Title: Amaranth
Full Summary: AU/AR – In their seventh year of Hogwarts, the trio must come to terms with their destinies, and with the sacrifices it takes to achieve their common goal. As the Dark Lord bides his time, coming to power slowly, the inevitable war comes closer and closer. While Draco Malfoy runs from the destiny he refuses to accept, he tries to survive his father's abuse until he is free. Fate has a different plan for the young wizard as he is thrown into the resistance against his will by one of his biggest enemies. The Wizarding world hangs in the balance, but will good conquer evil? D/Hr.
Please Read:
I wrote this story, originally, in 2003 between the publication of Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix. As I want the story to be close to the original idea I had, it is now considered to be Alternate Universe/Alternate Reality. I'm updating the story, however, with information that we now have from the last two books and I'm updating it with the maturity as a writer I have gained in the years following my original attempt. I will state now, that all of the *major* events of OotP, IE Dumbledore's Army and Sirius's death have occurred. However, the events of HBP have not occurred…meaning Dumbledore is still very much alive and Harry does not yet know of Horcruxes. Many of the events of HBP and DH will occur in this story, but in my very modified way. I have confidence that this will be a great story and I have nothing but pride from the parts I have already written. I ask that you give it a chance and please let me know how it can be improved. I'm old enough to handle both praise and criticism. Thank you.
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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
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Chapter One
"Mother Earth"
He bit his tongue to keep from crying out in pain. He was used to it, and quite surprised he didn't have half of his tongue missing. He could feel the belt being beaten into his back. BAM! BAM! BAM! The repeated beats were merciless, as was the one administering it. He could just see the blank watery steel eyes, almost the same eyes he had. They would be filled with malice, hatred and loathing . . . yet blank, blank because he had no free will left in him. He was a full servant, and he groveled to his master constantly. Of course, if he were lucky…it would only be the belt tonight. Each single crack of the belt dug deeper and deeper into his skin. The young man with short blonde hair and a sharp, gaunt face closed his eyes and let himself feel the pain. It may sound strange, but each sudden rush of that dull pain was a reminder that he was still alive. He was still human, able to feel. He hadn't given up his free will yet, he was still his own master.
The young man's grey eyes slid around the room, counting the furniture. Then he counted the candles flickering on the walls…then his eyes slid to the fireplace. Everything in its place, everything just as it always was in his father's study. His gaze drifted down to the rug, he counted the number of strings of fringe on the sides, one hundred and thirteen, same as yesterday.
The young man, Draco Malfoy as it were, heard the belt clatter to the floor. He tensed, unsure if his father was finished. After all, there were other, worse ways of making him hurt. There were magical ways. Draco waited for a minute before straightening himself up. He stole a glance at his father he was learning against his desk, breathing heavy, as though he were thoroughly spent. Still, Draco knew that if he moved too quickly, drew too much attention to himself…he would suffer the pain of the cruciatus curse. Draco felt a tickle down his back and he realized he was bleeding, he quickly inferred that that was his father's motive for stopping. Many times his father was unable to stand sight of Draco's blood dribbling down his back. Other times, it seemed to excite him more and the beatings became more severe.
Beating Draco had seemingly become one of Lucius' favorite pastimes. Draco knew that his father was also a sexual deviant, as his room was unlucky enough to be directly above his father's study. He wasn't sure how many mistresses the man had, but Draco knew from walking in on his father too many times as a child, that his father's sexual tastes ran towards the dark. Draco knew him to be a sexual man, a powerful man and knew from personal experience that when the two combine together, it often makes for a chilling combination. He was a man obsessed with power, obsessed with possessing and obsessed with blood.
It was no secret to the wizarding world that Lucius Malfoy's loyalties sided with Voldemort. His father believed with his whole being that muggles were inferior to wizards in every way. He thought squibs should all be exterminated as shameful, freakish spawn of unworthy wizards. In his mind, however, the worst offenders were mudbloods. The dirty blooded, disgusting magical spawn from muggles, descended from squibs. Unnatural, he believed.
Draco had often mused that his father was no better than the wonder trio. They were all just trying to impress their master, with Lucius it was Voldemort and with the wonder trio it was Dumbledore. Draco would have no master. He hated them all, but especially those three, perfect Potter, his sidekick Weasel and of course the Mudblood Granger. While Draco didn't put as much faith into blood superiority as his father, certain habits had become ingrained in Draco, one of them being the hatred of the muggle born. Despite his hatred of them, and his belief that pure blood could only mean a more powerful wizard he was still intrigued by Granger. She was obviously clever, having had the last six years of classes with her. He begrudgingly admitted that she was probably the exception to the rule. It was her social ties that truly puzzled him, however. She was not like Potter and Weasel, she was academically motivated, she followed rules and school policies to a 'T' and from what Draco had heard, she was shoo-in for Head Girl. Draco did respect her, though he would only tell someone that under pain of the cruciatus curse. Despite this, he still disliked her…perhaps even hated her. She was insufferable for the past six years, always right, always sucking up and always surrounded by her two faithful body guards.
The beating was most assuredly done, as his father had not taken his wand out yet. Draco turned on his heel, meeting his father's empty steel gaze. Since the Dark Lord returned, his father's eyes had taken on a vacant stare, as though Voldemort had taken his thoughts straight from his head. His father muttered something about how this'll teach him a lesson of character and loyalties. Draco didn't care; he couldn't even feel the pain anymore.
He left his father's study without a word to him, his back still dribbling blood.
He entered his room and sighed. He walked over to the bed and sat down upon it. This was his final year at Hogwarts; he was Head Boy and confident that he would successfully be able to disappear off of the face of the planet after graduation. His plan already in place, he would go into hiding. He would hide somewhere where they had never heard of magic. Places where no wizard would ever think to look for him. His 'Plan B' was a modification on the fidelius charm that he had been working on, one that allowed the caster to be their own secret keeper. He wasn't very good at inventing spells, but if he could perfect it, his troubles would be over. Then, no one would ever see him again; he could live his life the way that he wanted to live it. No more Lucius telling him to worship Voldemort, no more Dumbledore urging him to choose the path of light. It would all finally end.
***
The chattering bustles of students buying their Hogwarts supplies was definitely a sight to behold. Over the chatter one could barely hear themselves think. Students milling about, in and out of stores, seeing old friends and enemies, their arms and hands weighted down with their purchases. Not many of the residents near Diagon Alley came into it when it was time for Hogwarts students to buy their things; they were too smart for that.
Hermione sat at Florean Fortescue's looking over her summer homework. She had always enjoyed sitting out in one of many Fortescue's outside tables, one could always see people coming and going. She was waiting for Ron and Harry to show up. They had obviously stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies, because it certainly would not take them three hours to get to Fortescue's. With her quill in one hand, a bottle of red ink sitting on the table, she began to make corrections on her paper for the fifth time. It had to be perfect; she was Head Girl and expected to get top marks in all of her classes. Besides, her focus on academics would be a welcome distraction to the reality she was facing as one of Harry Potter's best friends.
As Hermione made a few grammatical changes on her History of Magic paper a cold chill befell upon her. It was as though the outside temperature had dropped a few degrees. Hermione's head snapped up, her quick reflexes taking over. She dropped her quill and her hand was fingering her wand in no time flat. Her mind raced with possibilities. Her head whipped around to see Draco Malfoy. He had entered the alley and was looking around. Her eyes studied him for a moment; he was walking with a slight limp and his eyes were wincing with pain though as always, his face was set in that trademark Malfoy sneer. Hermione mentally shot a few nasty hexes his way but still couldn't help but be curious as to his injuries. She picked up her quill and returned to work after he had disappeared into a store.
Harry and Ron came bounding to where Hermione was sitting a moment later; they were grinning ear to ear and carrying QQS bags. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at her friends, they were so predictable. To avoid mishaps, Hermione quickly bottled her red ink, and took her parchments off of the table; she did not want any of Ron's clumsiness to result in her having to do an entire summer's homework again. The two boys smiled at her and started to tell her all about their purchases. She still, after six full years at Hogwarts had trouble understanding the game…but knew enough to follow along at matches. She could only offer them an encourage smile and tell them how lovely their purchase seemed to her. She knew it was all they wanted anyway.
When they were done with their babble about quidditch, they decided to go and get their books together. Hermione once again needed more as she was taking at least three more classes than Ron and Harry.
Harry pulled her aside to speak with her while Ron continued obliviously ahead.
"I've already told Ron, but I wanted to tell you that after we're done shopping, Dumbledore's meeting me. He's taking me somewhere to hide for the rest of the summer, not sure where. I'll try to get a letter to you if I can."
Hermione could only nod. She gripped his arm and gave it a squeeze, worrying for the first time all day that this could potentially be the last time would be near him before he died. She knew that Harry would want her to push that thought from her brain. Hermione, ever determined to be the best friend she could possibly be, knew that Harry would want things to remain as normal as possible while he was out. He hated the fuss that came with being The Boy Who Lived and The Chosen One, so Hermione and Ron had promised him to never treat him as anything but, Harry…their friend.
They walked into Flourish and Blotts Hermione's eyes got a far away gaze to them, as it always did when she entered a bookstore. She ignored the looks being passed between Harry and Ron. Ever since Hermione was very little she had loved books. She often sneaked down to her father's personal library to look at the books. It also helped that her father read her muggle classics before Hermione learned how to herself. She had grown up listening to her father's voice reciting Charlotte Brontë, Emily Brontë, Daniel Defoe, Jules Verne and many of the likes.
Thinking of her father brought pangs of pain to Hermione.
It was Christmas; Hermione had just finished with the first half of her fifth year. She had decided to spend Christmas at school, wanting to keep Harry company, Ron had gone home to the Burrow. On Dumbledore's orders, Harry was not to leave the school grounds. On Christmas morning she received a large, heavy parcel via owl in the Great Hall. Thinking it was a late present from someone, she furiously and happily ripped open the package.
Inside the parcel were the severed heads of her mother and father.
Upon closer examination it was revealed that her parents' foreheads had been stamped with a non-magical form of the dark mark. Hermione knew that they were killed because of his association with Harry. Despite her deep, emotional pain…logically she found herself able to compartmentalize, able to logically state that her parents' deaths would be two to prevent the deaths of all. She threw herself into her studies, determined to find someway to help Harry defeat Voldemort. Despite this though, Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty over the fact that she was not there.
Harry and Ron followed Hermione around the store while she carefully picked up their textbooks and handed them to the boys. She picked up a divination textbook and clicked her tongue in disapproval. Ron grinned at her disapproval. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to book shopping. She finished with the boys first and they waved to her as they walked to the purchase counter. She walked through the books, sighing happily as she felt she was at home again. She picked up her textbooks for next year and continued to leaf through the various books, hoping she could gain more knowledge. She passed books on several subjects, care of magical creatures, history of magic, medical magic; while these were important pasts to her education they were not her favorite subjects. She much preferred potions, charms and transfiguration. Picking up a new book on each of those subjects she walked to the purchase counter. She handed the galleons, sickles and knuts to the plump witch working behind the counter. She walked outside with her bags weighing her down heavily with books. Seeing Harry and Ron waving to her she walked over to join them.
"Oi, Hermione you got enough books in there to last you the rest of your life"
"Well, unlike you Ronald Weasley I have a plan for my future."
"Oh yeah? Planning on becoming a librarian? Because you could start a new library with all of those"
Hermione glared at Ron and stalked away, he could be such a git.
"Trouble in paradise?" a silky voice drawled, Hermione recognized it immediately.
"Leave me alone Malfoy"
"Ohh, poor Granger. Weasel unable to give you what you need?" with that, Draco gave a crude, sexual hand gesture.
"Go to hell Malfoy!"
"Touched a nerve I see mudblood"
"Malfoy, leave her alone"
Hermione and Draco looked behind her to see Harry and Ron, their wands pointed at Draco. Ron looked livid and Harry had a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Now, now Potter, you wouldn't want to deprive me the pleasure of talking to the mudblood bitch now would you?" Draco drawled
BAM!
Draco saw stars for a moment; he fell to the ground and expected to see Weasel standing over him when he saw Hermione, her hand clenched into a fist. Draco couldn't believe it; the mudblood had hit him, and hit him hard too. Still, he couldn't control, his first thought 'damn, Granger's got a mean right hook.' Draco jumped to his feet.
"You'll pay for that mudblood, remember your body guards won't be around you all the time . . . just like you and your parents" he hissed
At that last comment Hermione's eyes pricked with tears. When his back turned, they started to flow down her cheeks. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and she hugged the first one she could get her hands on, this time it had been Ron. With her head buried in his chest and her fists clenching his robes Ron looked unsure. He looked over to Harry, who motioned that he should put his arms around her. When he did he was surprised to see how good it felt to hold her, just like he had imagined.
***
The god damned perfect little mudblood had the audacity to hit him. Oh he would get her back for that. He may not be loyal to the Dark Lord but he wouldn't hesitate to hand her over to him. He needed a drink.
Turning down to Knockturn Alley, Malfoy stepped into The Dark Cauldron, the local pub. He had always assumed the name to be a play on 'The Leaky Cauldron', but was never sure. He sat at the bar and ordered a glass of Ogden's Old.
The barkeep nodded and served the drink, as he was putting the glass on the counter, he made sure Draco got a glimpse of his dark mark. It looked like a horrible burn; the kind of burn that left skin black mixed with a muggle tattoo. It clashed horrible against the man's yellow skin. Draco eyed the man with an air of distaste. Not only was his drink being served by a Death Eater with no qualms about showing his mark, but the glass he was being served was absolutely filthy. Still, Draco accepted the drink from him.
Seeing The Mark on the man's arm flashed his mind back to his morning. What a terrible morning it had been. He had risen early, as always, to avoid his father. Only to discover, upon descending the stairs and heading for the kitchen, that his father hadn't gone to bed yet. Lucius had been in the hallway with one of his women, shagging her up against the wall. Draco didn't see them before it was too late. The woman, who he recognized as a Ministry of Magic employee made a startled noise upon seeing Draco. Lucius whirled around to see his son and cried with bloodthirsty rage. He used his trademark walking stick to incapacitate Draco by hitting him in the leg with it. He had been subject to the cruciatus curse and Draco had been beaten until he passed out. When he woke up, he discovered it was past noon. He left the house, deciding to buy his school books, though he would have used any reason to get away from his father.
He sat for a moment, nursing his drink while contemplating what had just transpired. Draco knew that bringing up Granger's parents was a low blow, and he truly did not wish to have sunk to such a low level. His morning had left him in sour mood, and seeing the Dream Team had made his anger boil over. He took it out on Granger who he knew was the easiest and most intriguing target. He tried to quash the little pangs of guilt he felt with each swallow of the whiskey. Still, his pride was hurt from being hit and he felt the need for revenge, which he hoped would also squash his guilty feelings out of his heart.
***
Because of her parent's death, Hermione had spent the last two summers and Christmas at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had to stay with the Dursley's and could not offer Hermione company, but Ron had felt particularly upset that Hermione was spending her time off from school in an inn. He had invited her a hundred times to come and spend her time at the burrow. When she finally accepted his offer, he was overjoyed. His older brothers had taken to teasing him about it, but Ron didn't care.
On the day that she was due to arrive, Ron paced the living room like mad. His eyes glanced upwards at the photo of his deceased parents, wishing that they could be here to see her. He still felt a sharp pain in his heart when he thought of them, he supposed he always would.
Asleep in his bed, Ron was perfectly content with the fuzzy dreams he was having. He was awoken with a crash and scream. Confused and decidedly worried he padded downstairs in his slippers. As he rounded the corner to go into the living room he saw his mother lying on the floor in a sobbing heap. His eyes followed her to his brother standing around something. He fully entered the room to see his father; Arthur had been hung from the ceiling, his neck broken. His father was hung right over the Christmas tree, a star taped onto his head, which was hanging limply. His forehead had been printed with the dark mark. Behind him, on the wall were the words 'Blood Traitor' written, presumably, in blood. Ron heard a low moan, like a ghoul, only to realize that it was him. His eyes were pricked with tears, but he was too shocked to cry at first. Ron could hear a soft voice call out,
"What's going on Ron?"
'Ginny'
Ron grabbed his sister's shoulders and tried to get her to go into her room.
"No, Ginny don't go down there"
As Ginny was every bit as stubborn as the rest of her family she broke free of her brother and ran to the living room. Her screams could be heard all through the house.
Charlie stood and walked over to his sister, while Ron took his place at his mother's side. Charlie wrapped a protective arm around her and tried to stop her screams. Ron hugged his sobbing mother and silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Bill stood and walked over to a wall. In a fit of rage he punched it, leaving a massive hole in it. Fred and George walked over to their brother and helped him pull his hand out of the wall. Percy looked up at his father and Ron could see tears flowing freely down his freckled cheeks. Percy calmly stood up and walked to the fireplace. He took a handful of floo threw it into the fire and called Dumbledore. Molly was never the same again.
Molly Weasley died right after her husband's funeral.
A week after her husband's funeral, Molly Weasley was starting to get along with her life. Ron and Ginny were allowed a special trip from Hogwarts to come and visit their mother and brothers. As they were eating dinner, there was a crash outside. The young men jumped to their feet, pulling their wands to the ready.
A chilling laughter filled his ears, one that he knew all too well. A woman appeared in the doorway, her wild black hair waving about her. Her black eyes carried a dangerous glint. She was beautiful and yet, her face was gaunt and drawn, her skin stretched as tight as a drum across her face.
It was Bellatrix Lestrange.
Behind her, Ron recognized the faces of Rodolphus and Rebastan Lestrange, Avery and Augustus Rookwood. Charlie and Bill, being the oldest and the fastest fired off a stunner spell, but not before Bellatrix, being the best dueler of the group had fired off a shield spell. She laughed maniacally, and the duel began.
Spells were fired left and right, but no Death Eater had cast the Killing Curse. Slowly, the Weasley's fell. Charlie had been stunned, Bill disarmed. Percy had been subject to the cruciatus curse and he was left writhing in the ground in pain even after the spell had stopped. Molly Weasley, seeing her children fall in pain went wild. She took her wand and cried out for them to leave her children alone. As she raised her wand, Bellatrix laughed. She flicked her wand at the older woman as green light emitted from its tip.
Molly Weasley fell to the floor, dead.
Her black eyes focused on Ron, "Crucio!" she cried.
Ron fell to the floor, screaming in abject pain. He felt as though every nerve in his body was firing. He felt thousands of needles prick his skin and his intestines twist up.
Bellatrix leaned over him and took his face in her hands. She looked into his eyes and whispered sweetly, "if you don't hand over Harry Potter, we'll kill your brothers…one by one. Then, we'll kill your sister and your mudblood," she pushed him to the ground.
She stepped delicately over Molly's body, turned and then spit on her corpse muttering, "Filthy blood traitor"
Bill and Charlie came home from their respective jobs and started to work at the Ministry. Bill underwent auror training and Charlie was given his father's old job. Percy, Fred and George also moved back in. They felt that it would be better if all the Weasley's were together under one roof. They all were sad, but managed to rise above it. However, Ginny could not.
Ginny was never the same again. She became quiet and reserved. She skipped meals, and grew very thin. When one of her brother saw her arm, and saw many bruises, gashes and scratches it was decided that she would be taken out of Hogwarts for the time being and put into St. Mungo's. Charlie took it upon himself to see her most often and to give her things because she was the most responsive to him. She often had to be restrained from scratching at herself. Her brother Percy had been banned from visiting her, as it turned out her diseased mind associated his face the most strongly with her parents, leaving her to bouts of manic hysteria. So, Ron was the last Weasley at Hogwarts.
There was a sudden rapping on the door and Ron ran to it, he opened it up and saw Hermione standing with a single suitcase, and her Hogwarts trunk. She bit her lip endearingly and Ron could just stare at her in amazement. After a few minutes she began to get a little nervous, but Bill led Ron to the living room and Percy welcomed her into the house. He sent Fred and George out after her trunk and put it in her room.
"Well, Hermione . . ." Percy said, "you've certainly changed since I last saw you"
Hermione smiled and a slight blush crept on her cheeks, "I guess I have . . .its been about three years"
Percy smiled, "Ron, are you going to say anything to Hermione or just stand their gawking at her?"
Ron blushed to the scalp of his fiery red hair; "Hey Hermione"
Hermione stifled a laugh as she spoke with mock seriousness, "Hello Ron"
"Why don't we all sit down? It will give us a chance to get reacquainted" Percy asked.
Hermione followed the boys and sat down on a couch. Ron sat next to her, Bill on a chair across from them, Percy to the right, and Fred and George to the left.
"So, Hermione I heard you got Head Girl this year?" Percy asked.
Hermione's nervous face brightened, "yes, I did. I'm very excited about it"
"I remember when I got my Head Boy Badge" Percy said dreamily.
"Yeah and we enchanted it to say 'Bighead Boy'" George said with a laugh.
Percy scowled, "yes, I remember that too"
"As much as I hate it . . . I have work tomorrow, so I better be getting to bed"
"G'night Bill" they all called
One by one they all left; soon it was just Ron and Hermione sitting in the living room. Ron had his head down, but reached over and clasped Hermione's hand
"I'm glad you're here 'Mione"
"Thank you Ron" she said and kissed him on the cheek.
Ron blushed slightly, but recovered. He stood and offered to walk Hermione to her room. She knew that she was taking Ginny's old room and felt slightly guilty about it. As Ron stopped at the door, he reached over and pecked Hermione quickly on the lips. He mumbled 'goodnight' and walked down the hall to his own room. Hermione was left standing there, shocked.
***
Hermione was awoken by a gentle rapping on her door. She yawned and told the person they could enter. Bill poked his head in and said there was breakfast on the table if she wanted some. Hermione thanked him and began to get out of bed.
Hermione appeared in the kitchen, a robe over her pajamas she yawned and smiled at the boys. There was another red headed male at the table; she knew it to be Charlie.
"Good morning Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George and Ron" Hermione said with a smile.
A chorus of "Good morning Hermione" sounded through the kitchen
Hermione smiled, she had always loved Ron's family, they treated her so nicely, they were the only pureblooded family to ever do that to her. She traced designs on the little wooden table with her fingertips.
A clock chimed and all they boys with the exception of Ron stood. They all bid Hermione and Ron their good byes and said that it was time for work. Percy, Bill and Charlie were off to the Ministry, Fred and George to their joke shop. Hermione smiled and said that she was going to take a shower.
Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. She quickly brushed her hair and changed into some muggle clothes. She went back into Ginny's room, sat down and read. A few minutes later, Ron showed up at her door. Hermione smiled when she saw him, and he suggested they go out and do something. Hermione aptly agreed, thankful that she had something to do.
They left a note for the rest of the Weasleys and took floo powder to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione had decided to take Ron on a tour of muggle London. Ron went first, and stepped out of the fireplace with ease. Hermione, however wasn't as experienced with floo as the Ron was, she didn't know to tuck her elbows in so when she yelled the location, she hit her elbows and nearly choked on soot. She was thrown out of the fireplace and into Ron's arms. She breathed his name and buried her face in his chest. She pulled away a moment later having gotten over the shock that flooing can cause. Ron missed having her in his arms, and Hermione felt embarrassed.
They left the Leaky Cauldron and walked into muggle London. Ron was unsure of everything, and felt scared of the muggles. Hermione on the other hand was completely at ease with how things were turning out. This was her home, and no matter how long she had lived in the wizarding world, she always knew that she could belong here as well, and it was a great feeling.
She led Ron all around and even took him on one of those tourist double-decker bus tours. Ron sneaked his hand down and clasped Hermione's in his. She looked taken back, but did not draw her hand away.
At the end of their trip, they got back to the Burrow and found everyone waiting for them.
"Have a fun trip?" Charlie called from the kitchen where he was making dinner
"Yeah, Hermione really knows her stuff"
Hermione bit her lip and smiled. This house certainly liked giving compliments. Ron and Hermione walked into the kitchen where everyone was gathered. Hermione certainly stood out; she was not only the only female, but also the only one without red hair. She smiled and asked how everyone else's day was.
"Well, I'm still stuck shuffling papers on my desk and writing reports on cauldrons and wands. Now they have me writing reports on parchment, ON parchment." Percy vented, "at least my boss knows how to pronounce 'Weasley'" he mumbled as an after thought
"the usual business these days," Bill replied, unable to go into further detail.
"Ginny is doing a bit better. She didn't need restraining today "Charlie said with a hint of sadness
Hermione's heart went out to Charlie. He visited Ginny everyday, and Hermione had heard about how hard it could be to visit her.
Hermione smiled, but still felt sorry for the Weasley's. She had felt a very personal loss when Arthur and Molly had died, their deaths taking place a few days before the deaths of her parents. They were like a second family and Hermione would never forget them. She was happy that they were strong and supportive of each other. Hermione thought briefly about young Ginny, she had been friends with her, and they had gotten truly close over the years. Hermione felt horrible about what had happened to the young girl. She was absolutely terrified of losing her mind as Ginny did. Ginny had been such a strong girl before this, Hermione could remember the battle in the Ministry all too well. Ginny had handled herself as well as anyone. Hermione didn't want to go crazy; she just wanted a semi-normal life, but who could get that when they were a witch?
Hermione slept restlessly that night. She was having nightmares about her parents.
In her mind, Hermione would always be haunted by the images of her parent's heads. It broke her heart every time she thought about it.
Hermione had never had a chance to grieve like a normal muggle would do; days earlier were the Weasley's murders. At that, Hermione knew that her talents would be best spent in books, finding out as much as she can abut Voldemort and how to defeat him. She wanted revenge. She had become even more engrossed in her studies; her friends thought the best thing was to leave her alone. It wasn't until Hermione stopped showing up for meals, and became extremely thin that her friends became worried. They started to spend more time with her, and they wouldn't let her be depressed at all. Hermione still sometimes felt like an obligation, but after today with Ron, she felt that to him . . . she wasn't an obligation. That thought made her heart fill with a warm sensation that swept to her toes.
Having decided that she couldn't sleep, she put on her robe and crept quietly down the stairs. She walked outside to the garden and sat down upon a bench staring up at the moon. She had often marveled at its celestial beauty, it truly was timeless. A full moon tonight, up close and down to earth. Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms tighter around her form. She leaned back against a pillar and heard the rhythmic beating of her heart. She was content, and amazed at the moon. It reminded her of reality; she was but a small speck in the universe. Everything that happened to her was not international news, and the world did not revolve around her. That thought both cheered and depressed Hermione. It cheered her because it proved that she could disappear if she wanted to. It depressed her because it reminded her that when she died the world would continue to move without her.
Unbeknownst to her Draco Malfoy was watching the very same moon . . .
***
He rose from his bed, still staring at the moon. He didn't know that Hermione was looking at the moon too; his thoughts were far away from her. They were on Voldemort. Draco wanted nothing more than to see that disgusting git vanquished for good, but Draco didn't want to join Dumbledore's side. He didn't want to join Voldemort's side either. Draco wanted no part in the war; he would just sit back with a bottle of Ogden's and wait for it to be over. He didn't see hoe he had an obligation to either of the parties involved. Lucius wasn't much of a father, and he refused to give him such a term of respect as 'father'. No, the closest thing to a father was his head of house, Severus Snape.
Draco had seen Voldemort up close once, and he didn't want to do it again anytime soon. His face, was so grey, with slits for nostrils…he resembled snake more than man. His eyes though, his eyes are the thing that shows his power, brighter red then you will ever see, they drip with evil.
Draco just wanted Potty to go up against old Voldie and be done with it. If either one of them was killed the world would be a better place, but for Draco's own sake he was able to realize that it would be best if Voldemort was the one defeated. As he knew, as long as Voldemort was in power, Draco was in danger of getting The Mark. If the two could duel and kill each other in the process, he would be rid of the two most annoying wizards his world could ever have produced. Draco thought for a moment, he should throw Lucius into that mix. Draco's life would be set if the three of them were killed at the same time. Draco reached into a drawer on his bedside table, he pulled out his wand and twirled it in his hands for a minute, thinking and contemplating. He wondered what the new year would be like at Hogwarts, it was his final year and he would be able to practice magic at home . . .which included banishing Lucius to kingdom come, or putting him under the cruciatus curse. Of course, being seventeen and a having a life sentence in Azkaban? Draco could think of better things to do with his life.
When he was younger had had always thought about becoming a playboy of sorts, never having to do a thing. He could be living off of daddy, having a new girl every night. Draco realized though, that you couldn't have any of that, or rather HE couldn't have any of that. He had accepted these facts long ago and got over them. After Hogwarts, he had his plan. After the inevitable war… he still didn't have a clue.
Draco turned his back on the moon. He walked over to his bed and lay down. As his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.
Draco awoke the next morning to his Lucius' yells. Draco rolled his eyes and got out of bed. He walked down to the study with a smirk on his face, even though he knew what was going to happen. Lucius' eyes were crazy, the watery steel was filled with hatred, and yet they were blank like they usually were. Draco's father grabbed his arm and wrenched him to the side. Before beatings Lucius seemed to take a strength-enhancing potion, because Draco knew for a fact that Lucius wasn't strong enough to pull him across the room. His father pulled out his wand and cried:
"CRUCIO!"
Draco fell to the floor in pain. There was no way he was going to give his father ANY satisfaction by crying out. Eyes wild, Lucius continued to curse Draco until Lucius himself cried out in pain. Draco looked, even though he already knew the answer. Voldemort wanted his slaves. Draco suppressed a smirk at the older Malfoy's pain. He sent Draco to his room.
"Your master is calling you, father," Draco said with a smirk.
Lucius kicked Draco in his stomach before disapparating with a loud pop. Draco coughed and struggled to get to his feet.
Draco walked to his room, ignoring the latent twitching in his muscles from the curse. He had a smirk on his face, but the smirk was just a mask. He had perfected it at a young age, because of Lucius; he always said emotions were weaknesses, same with feelings. That was why Draco had never had a steady girlfriend. He had a few girls, but no one he actually cared about. 'Feelings are for the weak' he thought quickly.
Draco walked into his room, and stared out of the window, bored. There was never anything to do at the Manor. It was so boring, unless you wanted to spend time with Lucius, his mother, his Aunt or the servants. He didn't particularly care to be social with anyone in the Malfoy Manor, so Draco took it upon himself to stay locked away in his bedroom for as long as possible. In his room, just staring and thinking. He actually was looking forward to Hogwarts, because at least there, there would be entertainment, and his revenge to plot. As he stared out the window, an unconscious smirk spread across his face.
"Just one more year," he said to himself, a true smile crossing his face for the first time in a long time.