White Winter Night by elite-fashionista
Reviews welcome : good and bad : )
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
"The world was covered in white that fateful night. I remember it well, though it is not a happy memory. Not one I would wish to look back fondly on, no, not happy at all." Dumbledore paused looking at the patch of space above his guest's heads. The normal twinkle in his eye was extinguished and one could practically see the visions of the past play across his pale blue eyes. His eyes snapped back into focus as one of the boys purposefully cleared his throat. Taking them all in he watched each of them as their eyes roved around the room.
"Their so young, too young maybe. But they need to know, they need to know what it was that brought them altogether in this place, on this day" he thought "well I guess now is as good as ever." "It was a time that was much different than this one." He spoke aloud, "Voldemort was just coming into his power, not known among many but those he thought were the purest of blood."
"So in other words none of the halfbloods or mudbloods even knew he existed," one of the students said raising a blonde eyebrow and interrupting the headmaster.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, and you will not use those derogatory terms in the future." Dumbledore replied giving his pupil a stern look. "It was a time when it didn't matter if you were magical… if one was not a "pure" witch or wizard then those who were of the cleanest blood would shun and ignore you. I cannot begin to express the dire circumstances one of them would be in if they were found in the company of unclean blood, but I will say that if it happened once you were punished, but if it happen ever again you were exiled, banished, thrown out. The mere threat of being exiled alone was the main reason many of them purebloods kept clear of those who weren't of the same station as themselves, and unfortunately it caused many of them to follow in the footsteps of their parents." He pause letting the students soak in his words, and absorb what it would have felt like for any of them to have grown up in a time when ancestry could make or break their future.
"But professor," the girl inquired "I don't understand. Why would it such a big deal to be exiled. I mean couldn't they have just gone to another magical community? I mean there is a community in probably every civilized country in the world." At this statement Draco Malfoy snorted causing the girl to cast him a weary look.
"Well yes there are other communities, but for a moment Ms. Granger imagine that your parents weren't the loving, kind, forgiving ones you have now. Imagine a parent who puts image and prestige, class, and blood before that of the love of their own child. Try and see how it would have been for their child who grew up with all of life's privileges to be suddenly cast out and cut off from everything they ever knew. If you had grown up in a house so cold and void of compassion and love would you or would you not, want to please your parents in the only way that they required of you. Wouldn't you want them to be proud of you, and if that meant putting on airs and acting superior to people whose blood wasn't as pure as your own, why wouldn't you do what your parents asked of you?" Dumbledore looked at each student thoughtfully assessing their reaction to his words. While some met his gaze, others looked away, and some challenged his stare with one of their own; it was the latter that needed to hear the story. They were the ones that needed to hear the truth of what really happened that night. A night that was covered in white, a night that changed the life of a family forever, a night when the world was black but hope was still etched in the faces of the young.
It was that night that they youngest sister from a noble and ancient house took the chance for a new start with a new love; the eldest sister turned even farther from those who cared for her and delved deeper into a world she wouldn't escape; and the last sister the one who held them together as a family, sobbed and broke down telling their story to him in his office twenty years ago. It was that night that Narcissa Black Malfoy told their story. It was a story of love, hate, death, destruction, pain, fear, longing, life, hope, but most importantly family and how one mans desire for power destroyed them.
"So…." Draco Malfoy began, it had seemed like a millennia since Dumbledore in his old age had gotten so lost in his own thoughts that it seemed he forgot he had an audience to attend too. "Albeit it was a rather odd grouping," Draco thought looking around him.
In Dumbledore's cavernous office sat seven expectant witches and wizards wondering why Professor Dumbledore had called them out of various classes and prefect meetings to gather in his office. In the mist of the office stood nine mix matched chairs each looking a little worn, like they had seen many long nights and heard many conversations that some would make some kill for the information discussed. Closest to the desk was Hermione Granger, looking rather peaked in her black robe uniform. Her curly chestnut hair had tamed from the early years at Hogwarts although her "know it all" attitude was still ever present, especially when slytherins were in the room. Closest to her sat the famous "boy who lived," looking older and far too wise to only be seventeen. Ginny Weasley sat on Harry's other side her flaming red hair catching the light of the flames in the fireplace. Behind him sat his best friend Ron Weasley and his current girlfriend Luna Lovegood. The two were clearly not paying attention whispering and giving each other knowing looks whenever they thought no one was watching. On the other side of the room sat Draco Malfoy in all his blonde and self-important glory with his two closest friends, if slytherins could actually have close friends that is, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. The ninth chair sat directly between the two groups and unoccupied, leaving it up for debate for who that late person could be, and yet Dumbledore had begun and continued without the presence of the mysterious absentee.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked looking to the young heir with apparent interest, along with everyone else in the room.
"You were going to tell us a bedtime story were you not." Draco drawled piercing Dumbledore with a look of disdain.
"Tell you a story? Hmm…. No I wasn't going to tell a story I am going to show you a story. One that may hit very close to home for several of you. But before I do I must tell you, you may not like what you see of hear and if that is the case I would ask you not to voice your opinions until the story is finished. Only then will I answer any questions you may have. Agreed?" Dumbledore asked rising from his chair and walking over to a cabinet along the far wall. He turned and looked back at the group expectantly before he heard a chorus of "yes and whatever's."
"Good. Well let us try to begin shall we," and with that he removed the glowing blue pensive Harry had stumble across years earlier. The mysterious bowl with its soft glowing blue light coming from within was held delicately, and brought before the group. The other students looked on in awe as Dumbledore sat the bowl in the empty ninth chair.
"This is how we're going to see the story?" Ginny asked never having seen a pensive before, but positively captivated with the one before her now.
"Obviously." Draco sneered "But just whose memories are we going to be reliving?"
"That you will only learn when we go into them, for I cannot say whose memories will come first they all will have to be seen in order for you to understand the my meaning in calling all of you here tonight. While some of you may not be directly connected with the events you will see you would have learned of them eventually and that is why I allowed you to be here tonight." Dumbledore paused only for a minute before continuing. "So the easiest way to do this would be to all touch the thoughts at once, I will come in after to make sure that all of you go in to the correct memory."
They all nodded that they understood and it was only a moment and they were being pulled headlong into the swirling silvery liquid below.
#Ok so, a little background for the story... Dumbledore didn't die at the end of the 6th book and no horecruxes (is that how you spell it? oh well) so yeah and obviously i'm not really following J. K Rowlings line to a T but yeah creative liberty. #