Ashes to Ashes - A postwar story... Where Voldemort
has succeeded.
In the year 2000, Voldemort finally won the war against the Light, but what price will Harry, Ron, Draco, Snape, Ginny, and a very pregnant Hermione have to pay? Few are lucky, while most pay ... With their lives.
*
The reason for the title will become obvious in future chapters, of which I have all planned out, amazingly enough. Am I working on too many stories at the moment? Probably. Enjoy, and don't forget to review.
Aimée
*
Chapter One - The Battle of London
The War as lost in September of 2000 to Lord Voldemort, in the Last Battle of London. Over two thousand soldiers were lost, most of them supporters of the Light, including Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. The soldiers who had survived and had not vowed to pledge their life to the Death Eaters were captured and sentenced to death less than three days later.
In a small flat south of the city, Harry Potter set down his newspaper, sighing in defeat. Turning towards the man next to him at the table the two were sitting at, eating breakfast, he studied his features for nearly two minutes before the other man turned towards him, confused.
"What?" he asked, spearing one of the sausages on his plate with a fork. "Am I really so amazing that you have to stare at me?"
Harry snorted, forcing his eyes to break away and reread the article in front of him.
"Not today, Draco. You've won."
The fork Draco had been holding fell to his plate with a loud clatter as he turned to read over his friend's shoulder. "What the fuck did you just say?"
"I said," Harry breathed in before continuing, "You've won. Voldemort and the Death Eaters won the battle."
Draco made a small noise, and Harry couldn't tell exactly what he meant by it. Turning to face the blonde once more, he rubbed his forehead and blinked, trying to take the information in. "All of the people against the Death Eaters were captured, many were killed, and… Oh God…"
Draco peered over at Harry's pale face, who was now reading a different headline, trying to read his expression. "Oh God what?"
"Dumbledore…" Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. "And McGonagall. Dead."
Draco smirked, "It's about time."
Harry opened his eyes long enough to glare at him, trying fiercely not to break down that very moment.
"Shut the fuck up, if you know what's good for you." Harry threatened, closing his eyes once more. "He was a friend."
"And the leader of your army." Draco said, now more interested than ever. "So does this mean that Lord Voldemort's won not only the battle, but the war?"
"Yes."
Draco stood up immediately, the chair he was sitting in falling to the floor with a loud noise that startled Harry.
"I need to go then," Draco said in an excited sort of voice, "He'll be expecting all of us to show up."
"Then go," Harry growled, "But be warned, this may be the last time I see you."
Draco turned towards Harry, curious as to why his friend would say such a thing. Despite him and Harry being from different armies fighting one another, they had found the small but strong friendship they had forged late in their sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, amidst the protests of both their groups of friends.
Harry seemed to tell what Draco had been thinking, for the next words from his mouth answered Draco's silent question.
"I'm a wanted man, Draco. Harry Potter, alive and well in a world where Voldemort reigns? Never."
Before Draco could toy with the idea and concept of his friend being killed by his master, a loud bang sounded from the front of the flat. Quickly, the two brandished their wands, but it was too late. In a moment's time, wizards surrounded them, each in long dark robes with their wands pointed straight at the both of them.
"Harry Potter, you're under arrest for multiple acts of treason against Lord Voldemort."
Draco looked around, confused. He recognized each individual in the room, but the majority of them seemed to regard him with distrust. Before he could move an inch, stunning spells spilled forth from nearly fifteen wands, hitting both him and Harry.
"Harry… Harry…"
A soft voice seemed to come from a long distance away, as Harry struggled to regain consciousness. He opened his eyes and blinked, trying to focus on the blurry images floating in front of him.
"He's waking up!" a familiar voice whispered frantically to a third party. As Harry sat up slowly, he looked around at his surroundings, still too groggy to catch exactly where he was.
"Harry, look at me. Harry." The familiar voice commanded him to turn the ninety degrees to look at their face, and as he did, his eyes went past on a set of metal bars, immediately setting off alarm bells in his head.
"Hermione?" he asked, squinting slightly. "What…?"
"Shh," the woman in front of him – Hermione – said, rubbing his shoulder gently. "You and Draco came in here a few hours ago. Can you remember what happened?"
For the first time since he arrived, Harry looked around him, his face set in a bemused manner. Stone walls surrounded him on two adjacent sides, with iron bars forming the other two, giving him full view of the other two cells in the small area. Both cells held two occupants each, but in his current state, he couldn't tell who or what they were.
"Draco – " he paused. Had Hermione said both he and Draco had come in at the same time? " – Where?"
"Over here," came a cold voice in the cell diagonal from his and Hermione's. "The guards made a mistake – the idiots didn't realize I'm one of them."
"Oh.", was all Harry could manage. The rest of the world slipped into focus, and he suddenly caught sight of two redheads in the cell opposite theirs. Ginny Weasley and –
"Ron!?" Harry exclaimed, bolting upright and walking quickly to the cell door, ignoring the stabbing pains in his temples. "What…?"
"Don't bother," Hermione came up to him and set a hand on his arm. "He's not talking to any of us."
"Hasn't for ages." Ginny sighed, leaning up against her cell wall. "And why is that, you ask? He thinks his master betrayed him, that's why."
"What?" Harry's eyes moved from Ron to Ginny to Ron once more. "Voldemort…?"
"Stuck me in this hell hole because I spent the worst seven years of my life being your idiotic best friend and sidekick." Ron growled, his voice gravely. "Sentenced me to death for treason that I hadn't committed."
"Shut the bloody hell up, Weasley." Came another voice, this time from the cell Draco was residing in. "You're not the only Death Eater in here suspected of such."
Harry's eyes snapped over to where a tall, slightly graying man, was standing. Blinking twice to see if it was a joke, Harry's mouth dropped open when his mind confirmed who was standing next to Draco, locked in a cage just as the rest of them were.
"…Professor Snape?"
In the year 2000, Voldemort finally won the war against the Light, but what price will Harry, Ron, Draco, Snape, Ginny, and a very pregnant Hermione have to pay? Few are lucky, while most pay ... With their lives.
*
The reason for the title will become obvious in future chapters, of which I have all planned out, amazingly enough. Am I working on too many stories at the moment? Probably. Enjoy, and don't forget to review.
Aimée
*
Chapter One - The Battle of London
The War as lost in September of 2000 to Lord Voldemort, in the Last Battle of London. Over two thousand soldiers were lost, most of them supporters of the Light, including Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. The soldiers who had survived and had not vowed to pledge their life to the Death Eaters were captured and sentenced to death less than three days later.
In a small flat south of the city, Harry Potter set down his newspaper, sighing in defeat. Turning towards the man next to him at the table the two were sitting at, eating breakfast, he studied his features for nearly two minutes before the other man turned towards him, confused.
"What?" he asked, spearing one of the sausages on his plate with a fork. "Am I really so amazing that you have to stare at me?"
Harry snorted, forcing his eyes to break away and reread the article in front of him.
"Not today, Draco. You've won."
The fork Draco had been holding fell to his plate with a loud clatter as he turned to read over his friend's shoulder. "What the fuck did you just say?"
"I said," Harry breathed in before continuing, "You've won. Voldemort and the Death Eaters won the battle."
Draco made a small noise, and Harry couldn't tell exactly what he meant by it. Turning to face the blonde once more, he rubbed his forehead and blinked, trying to take the information in. "All of the people against the Death Eaters were captured, many were killed, and… Oh God…"
Draco peered over at Harry's pale face, who was now reading a different headline, trying to read his expression. "Oh God what?"
"Dumbledore…" Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. "And McGonagall. Dead."
Draco smirked, "It's about time."
Harry opened his eyes long enough to glare at him, trying fiercely not to break down that very moment.
"Shut the fuck up, if you know what's good for you." Harry threatened, closing his eyes once more. "He was a friend."
"And the leader of your army." Draco said, now more interested than ever. "So does this mean that Lord Voldemort's won not only the battle, but the war?"
"Yes."
Draco stood up immediately, the chair he was sitting in falling to the floor with a loud noise that startled Harry.
"I need to go then," Draco said in an excited sort of voice, "He'll be expecting all of us to show up."
"Then go," Harry growled, "But be warned, this may be the last time I see you."
Draco turned towards Harry, curious as to why his friend would say such a thing. Despite him and Harry being from different armies fighting one another, they had found the small but strong friendship they had forged late in their sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, amidst the protests of both their groups of friends.
Harry seemed to tell what Draco had been thinking, for the next words from his mouth answered Draco's silent question.
"I'm a wanted man, Draco. Harry Potter, alive and well in a world where Voldemort reigns? Never."
Before Draco could toy with the idea and concept of his friend being killed by his master, a loud bang sounded from the front of the flat. Quickly, the two brandished their wands, but it was too late. In a moment's time, wizards surrounded them, each in long dark robes with their wands pointed straight at the both of them.
"Harry Potter, you're under arrest for multiple acts of treason against Lord Voldemort."
Draco looked around, confused. He recognized each individual in the room, but the majority of them seemed to regard him with distrust. Before he could move an inch, stunning spells spilled forth from nearly fifteen wands, hitting both him and Harry.
"Harry… Harry…"
A soft voice seemed to come from a long distance away, as Harry struggled to regain consciousness. He opened his eyes and blinked, trying to focus on the blurry images floating in front of him.
"He's waking up!" a familiar voice whispered frantically to a third party. As Harry sat up slowly, he looked around at his surroundings, still too groggy to catch exactly where he was.
"Harry, look at me. Harry." The familiar voice commanded him to turn the ninety degrees to look at their face, and as he did, his eyes went past on a set of metal bars, immediately setting off alarm bells in his head.
"Hermione?" he asked, squinting slightly. "What…?"
"Shh," the woman in front of him – Hermione – said, rubbing his shoulder gently. "You and Draco came in here a few hours ago. Can you remember what happened?"
For the first time since he arrived, Harry looked around him, his face set in a bemused manner. Stone walls surrounded him on two adjacent sides, with iron bars forming the other two, giving him full view of the other two cells in the small area. Both cells held two occupants each, but in his current state, he couldn't tell who or what they were.
"Draco – " he paused. Had Hermione said both he and Draco had come in at the same time? " – Where?"
"Over here," came a cold voice in the cell diagonal from his and Hermione's. "The guards made a mistake – the idiots didn't realize I'm one of them."
"Oh.", was all Harry could manage. The rest of the world slipped into focus, and he suddenly caught sight of two redheads in the cell opposite theirs. Ginny Weasley and –
"Ron!?" Harry exclaimed, bolting upright and walking quickly to the cell door, ignoring the stabbing pains in his temples. "What…?"
"Don't bother," Hermione came up to him and set a hand on his arm. "He's not talking to any of us."
"Hasn't for ages." Ginny sighed, leaning up against her cell wall. "And why is that, you ask? He thinks his master betrayed him, that's why."
"What?" Harry's eyes moved from Ron to Ginny to Ron once more. "Voldemort…?"
"Stuck me in this hell hole because I spent the worst seven years of my life being your idiotic best friend and sidekick." Ron growled, his voice gravely. "Sentenced me to death for treason that I hadn't committed."
"Shut the bloody hell up, Weasley." Came another voice, this time from the cell Draco was residing in. "You're not the only Death Eater in here suspected of such."
Harry's eyes snapped over to where a tall, slightly graying man, was standing. Blinking twice to see if it was a joke, Harry's mouth dropped open when his mind confirmed who was standing next to Draco, locked in a cage just as the rest of them were.
"…Professor Snape?"