This is an alternative reality story in which the Battle at Hogwarts was won by Voldemort. It takes place 3 years after this battle. Draco Malfoy has remained inside the Death Eaters and working at the Ministry as the leader of an inside resistance. The remnants of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix work from underground. The two resistances team up in the effort to destroy the final Horcrux belonging to Voldemort: Nagini.
Just a note so as to not mislead readers: This is not a Draco/Ginny story, although it seems to lead that way toward the beginning.
Also, this is my first fanfic, so please leave reviews! ^_^ I'd like to know how I'm doing!
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At 5:17, things were going to change.
Draco Malfoy's eyes glanced up at the tall grandfather clock in the far corner of his office. Anxiously, he began straightening the papers that covered his desk. He glanced at the clock again. Six more minutes. He played with the idea of leaving early, but realized there was no real reason to do so. Two minutes later, he put the stacks of paper from his desk into his black briefcase and clicked the locks shut. As he tapped his fingers on its edge, he went over his plan in his mind. He didn't want a single glitch. Everything should be perfect.
The grandfather clock in the corner chimed five o'clock and Draco instantly stood, reaching for his briefcase. As his fingers slipped around the handle, a round, dark figure appeared in his doorway.
"You off?" the silhouette said, cheerily. It moved in a bit closer and Draco recognized it as Edgar Kratz.
"Yes, I am, Kratz," he said flatly.
"Well, be careful this weekend, Malfoy," Kratz said with a sincere smile, "I'm sure with the information you're carrying, you'd be a hot target."
Draco's face became creased and solemn, "Are you implying that the rebellion would know of this information—or that I am in possession of it?"
Kratz's eyes bugged and his jaw flapped silently a few times before he managed to say, "Uh, no, Malfoy! Of course not, sir! That's not what I—"
"Glad to hear it." Draco waved his wand over the briefcase and a thin, glowing purple thread issued from its tip wrapping firmly around the locks before disappearing. "Good evening, Kratz," he said and then blew past the shaken man and out the door.
Draco was able to leave the building with only mild interference. His new security clearance cut his exit time in half. He walked up the stairs from the bathroom and walked out into the street. He knew that he needed to get farther away, or the Ministry could track his Apparation. Once he was a few blocks down, he turned on the spot.
He reappeared in a deserted Muggle alleyway and checked his watch: 5:17. Step one complete; now for step two, he thought, his eyes combing the nearby rubbish bin. He found what he was looking for tucked under a bit of newspaper. It was a rotting apple core, yellow and warm from the heat. He hesitated for a moment then took hold of it and immediately felt a pull from behind his navel. As the portkey whizzed him off through a whir of colors, he gripped his wand firmly in his right hand—there was no telling what he was actually getting into.
When the movement stopped, he was hurled into a small clearing in a rather dense wood. He stepped backwards on impact to prevent falling. The sun was higher in the sky than it was in London. He wondered where he was but didn't give himself long to ponder this. There was business to attend to.
As agreed, Draco whipped his wand through the air sending out a rain of red and gold sparks—a rather unnecessary touch, he thought. He felt as though it put them on a bad start.
After this, he lowered his wand, and waited. Slowly, the Disillusionment Charms placed on those around him faded and the figures of his new associates were revealed. Most hadn't changed from when he had last seen them three years ago.
Longbottom might have procured more scars, but Draco couldn't really recall how many he had to begin with. He was defiantly formidable looking—something Draco never would have expected when he first knew the boy. Granger had managed to put her unruly hair back into a braid. She looked older and a bit more like a girl than he remembered. He looked away quickly, however, due to the ferocity of her glare. It took awhile for Draco to recognize the girl beside Granger. It was Looney Lovegood. Her hair was chopped short against her ears and she had a crescent shaped scar over her left eyebrow. It was her unfocused eyes and uncanny appearance of being "elsewhere" that gave her away. The two Weasley's looked most unchanged. Ginny was still attractive, but with the same annoying look of disdain which never left her face and would drive any man away, and the other one, Ron, was either attempting to sport a beard or merely forgot to shave. Draco also noted that his arm was placed securely around Granger's waste. How quaint.
Despite their correspondence, no one looked happy to see him. Their wands were raised, and Draco raised his own in reaction.
"Put your wands down," Draco said coolly. No one moved. "If I had wanted to kill you, I would have brought The Guard along. I knew I'd be outnumbered."
Ron scoffed, "Oh please, Malfoy. You're so full of yourself, you wouldn't get someone's help! Then you'd have to share the glory from your precious Dark Lord."
"I understand you don't trust me!" Draco exploded, stepping forward so that his wand was inches away from Ron's scowl, "but I assure you that I have done more for the Resistance than you ever will."
"Malfoy! Put down your wand this instant!" Granger commanded as she moved herself in front of Ron. Draco backed up. He was more concerned with Granger's wand than anyone else's. Powerful little witch, however much he hated to admit it.
"Do you think I'm stupid, Granger?" Draco asked.
"Weasley," Hermione chimed, wiggling the fingers on her left hand where a silver band was hugging her third finger.
"Weasley? There weren't enough in the world already?" he let out a cruel laugh. "Now you'll just start breeding! I bet—"
"ENOUGH!" Longbottom barked. "Alright, now everyone's going to put their wands down at three. One. Two. THREE." Surprisingly enough, all wands fell to the sides of their owners. "Okay, here's the deal. I know that Malfoy isn't the ideal person to be working with. Trust me, I am not his biggest fan."
"Likewise," Draco said.
"Duly noted. However," Longbottom's eyes scanned across the party's faces, "this is our best shot. Maybe are only shot. Things are about to get a lot worse, as I understand." He looked to Draco who gave a heavy nod. "And we can't afford to keep the two resistances standing apart. Malfoy may not be the first person we want around, but he's proven himself. He's the most valuable double agent we have and he's been running the Topside Resistance since...er, for a long time now. We can trust him. We have to."
"He's right," Draco sighed. "This isn't the schoolyard anymore. We can't let our...feelings towards each other get in the way. I have put a lot of work into getting everything into place for this mission."
"Good," Longbottom said. "Then, let's go back to camp and talk about our plans."
Draco followed the crowd through the trees. Apart from Hermione and Ron exchanging a few indistinguishable whispers, no one talked. After a few minutes, they came to a small orange tent situated below two towering pine trees. Longbottom held open the tent's flap and everyone filed in. Inside, Draco followed the group to a small table and took a seat. Once everyone was seated, he slid his briefcase onto the surface. Using his wand, he retracted the purple thread, opened the latches, and flipped open the briefcase.
"These are the most informative drawings I could procure of Nagini's keep." He pulled the parchment out of the briefcase and passed to Longbottom, who glanced at it then passed it on to Lovegood. "I also have a few details I discovered in regards to its protection," he said, pointing to some scrawled writings on the back of the page.
"These are the known whereabouts of the Sword of Gryffindor and a list of those with access to it." He took another parchment. "Honestly, I have little knowledge of the Objects or how to destroy them since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has removed all information about them—not to mention the taboo. From what I hear, you've already used the sword on a few." He gave this sheet to Hermione, knowing she carried the most knowledge on Horcruxes within the resistance.
"These," Draco sighed as he pulled out a thick stack of parchment, "are the most up to date plans on the Muggle Control Unit. As you can see, witches and wizards have been placed in positions of political power in various Muggle governments, including the UK, most of Europe, the US, China, and Japan." He fanned out the pages revealing quite a number of black and white portraits of smiling, waving politicians. "Some got there using magic to secure elections and others are stand-ins using Polyjuice potions. In a few months, they are planning on re-converging our worlds. The first step will be the big reveal. Step two, keep the Muggles calm and compliant. Step three, trim down Muggle population, and step four, total enslavement." Draco tossed the packet to the middle of the table. "We can discuss more after you have all read that."
"Are you sure that this system will fall when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead?" Longbottom asked.
"No," Draco shook his head, "I'm afraid it will be much harder than that." He took the last few sheets of paper out of his briefcase and handed them to Ginny. "These are the forms you'll need to fill out. I'll help you with them so everything goes through smoothly."
"Forms?" Ron asked, craning his neck to try and read them.
"Yes, well, she can't just go waltzing up to the Ministry and hope they like her, now can she?" Draco said, rolling his eyes.
"Wha?...What is this? I don't understand. Neville, what's going on?" Ron face read somewhere between confusion and anger as he turned towards Longbottom.
Neville let out a long sigh. "Look, mate. I know I should have told you, but Ginny's going to have to go topside."
"But, what about that pureblood woman? Helena Randall! I thought she was training for that!"
"Well, I'm afraid her Occlumency was far too poor to put her in such a situation."
"So my kid sister's the best answer for this?" Ron lashed out sarcastically.
"Yes," Longbottom answered with an unusual tone of authority. "Yes she is, Ron. We need a pureblood and we need a skilled one. Ginny is that good. You're letting your relationships get in the way...again." Longbottom's eyes flicked over to Hermione.
"Ron, you can't honestly think I would go into this if it was too dangerous or I wasn't prepared," Ginny said.
"Yes, actually. I do," Ron stood up, "I think that ever since Harry died, you've had a knack for running into any dangerous situation without giving it a thought, and you're only going to end up getting killed and Mum will have another grave to cry over!"
"Ron!" Hermione whispered, pulling at his sleeve. He jerked his arm away from her and sat back down. Ginny seemed unfazed. There was a long pause. It didn't feel too uncomfortable to Draco, but he knew that it was to the others. He had seen the headlines last year: "Known Traitor Killed in Riot." But Draco knew there hadn't been a riot. Arthur Weasley had been outside his home in a tool shed, tinkering with one of those Muggle picture boxes when the members of Merlin's Guard had barged in and taken him away. Draco had also heard that one of the twins was killed in the occurrence at Hogwarts. They had lost family, but they were far from the only ones who had.
"Fine." Ron said, breaking the silence. He left the table and stormed out of the tent. Hermione glanced around anxiously, then followed him. After watching them leave, Ginny produced a quill and began scratching away at the forms. Draco looked over her shoulder to make sure the answers sounded sufficient.
"Hmmmm," Lovegood hummed. It startled Draco, who had forgotten she was there. "There's something wrong about this picture." She held the drawing at arms length, upside down.
Draco frowned, "Do you think it's inaccurate?"
"No!" she returned with a wistful smile. "I don't know what it is."
Draco gave Longbottom a concerned glance, but he returned it with a reassuring nod. If Longbottom trusted Lovegood's judgment, that was good enough for him. When he found himself making this conclusion, Draco's skin crawled a little.