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It was a dark stormy night, the windows rattled on their hinges when the wind blasted against them. Hermione Granger had just returned home, back from the Ministry after a tedious day's work. Closing the door to her apartment behind her, she made a beeline towards her sofa, where she ungracefully fell back onto it. Looking to her left, she saw the trees bend low to the commands of the wind. Exhaling deeply as she looked away, she flicked her wand, and the fireplace came to life with a soft purr.
It was the second week of November, and she felt by now she should have been used to the turbulent tempest of London climate. Yet, something about this very night felt different. She felt a sense of foreboding and an untamable adrenaline rush was over her.
Hermione tutted at herself irritably, telling herself that she had enough of a hectic day as it was, there was no point to worry about some incomprehensible sense of anxiety. Her mind dismissed this feeling, but her subconscious begged to differ. She tiresomely pulled herself off the sofa, and trudged towards the mantelpiece. Her eyes shifted to the photographs on the mantelpiece, each of them smiling back at her with such warmth, that her heart fluttered with love and affection for her family.
Along with the smiling faces of her loving parents, several other faces greeted her in the photographs. She chuckled at the photograph of Harry and Ron who waved cheerfully, a smug smile playing on Ron's young face as a much relaxed smile was drawn on Harry's. The photograph had been taken a few months after Voldemort's downfall. The way Harry seemed to relax as Ron draped an arm over his shoulder showed how relieved Harry was with the removal of the Dark Lord from his life.
Tearing her eyes away from the duo, she watched a photograph of the boys with her. She seemed to be a very happy girl, unaware of the trials of adulthood that she would have to face despite the end of the war. Although she was comforted by the fact that she would not have to fret and worry about bringing down Voldemort anymore, she yet had to face a fragmented Wizarding world, which was recovering from more than decades long wounds and pain.
Therefore, it meant all the more work to piece together a broken world and being Hermione Granger she could not sit back at home and relax while she was needed out in the Wizarding world. Helping the Ministry and the general people to combat post battle losses and turmoil was something she had to do. Turning away from the photographs she headed to her small kitchen to help herself to a quick leftover food as her dinner. As she ate, she aimlessly flipped through the channels of her television. Inspite of being the smartest witch of her time, Hermione had not lost touch with her muggle side, and preferred to keep herself up to date as much as she can with the fast evolving muggle world.
Once finished with her measly meal, she took a quick shower, and after getting dressed, she slipped under the cozy comfort of her bed sheets. Sleep didn't come to her right away. Hermione stared out into the night sky through her bedroom window. She saw as a strike of lightning painted the night sky purple while the lightning itself glowed like some sparking jewel. She found the sight to be horrifyingly beautiful and with that thought came the sudden thunder startling her. Hermione slid deeper between the covers, her mind drifted off to her mundane days of work, initially working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures she had quickly risen to an important post in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
With Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley as two of the most credited Aurors by her side, she helped the Department with her witty insights and knowledge that gave leverage to the Aurors in solving intricate cases. Yet, tonight she felt unsettled and dreary. She sensed that she was about to encounter something that would be her own problem in which Harry and Ron would not be able to offer her much help with.
Harry had been in a steady and endearing relationship with Ginny Weasley since the war ceased. Whereas her relationship with Ron still felt half-baked and uncertain. Being together for almost 4 years since the war, she and Ron mutually came to a decision to take a break, and it has been an year since that "break" but she seemed to be reluctant to get back together with Ron.
Her passion for her work kept her from dedicating attention to her relationship and with Ron being the ever temperamental man that he was, he often accused her of being too dull and frigid. It was this that made her crack and accuse him of cheating on her with Lavender Brown, who too worked at the Ministry. She refused to delve deeper into the matter, the romantic glances and looks that passed between the pair as well as the rumors fuelled her anger and bitterly came to the solution of taking a temporary break in their relationship. Ron had protested initially but he too seemed somewhat relieved when he agreed to her decision. His guilt was written all over his face and that had given Hermione more than the assurance she needed that she was not taking any wrong step in this crumbling relationship.
She reached for her wand lying on the bedside table and pointed at the air in front of her and whispered a soft, "Lumos." The tip of the wand glowed, throwing a soft light onto the room and she stared at it pensively—
"Nox."
She felt this gut feeling that something big was about to happen to her. Since the war—
"Lumos."
Something that would shake the very foundation of her delicate life that she had mended since Voldemort's death—
"Nox."
Something that would plunge her into action and leave her breathless, and the pace of her slow life would pick up.
"Lumos."
A fateful incident would occur that would shove her into a world of chaos and shadows once again—
"Nox."
The room plunged into darkness but oddly she felt excitement play on her tired muscles, igniting renewed vitality into her world-weary soul. The shadows of night and the thunderstorm lulled her to sleep; as she subconsciously pushed her inconceivable anticipation to the recesses of her mind.
A scream echoed through a magnificently decorated hall, the air was punctuated with the shrill cries of a woman, who writhed on a lush beautiful carpet adorning the cold marble floor. She visibly convulsed and altogether soon the screaming stopped. The woman looked astonished that her agony has ceased and wildly looked about her, her foggy vision rested upon the face of a man standing opposite to her. He could hear her shallow breathing and edged near till he could see the somewhat unfocused gaze of the woman. He felt a shadow of disgrace and guilt envelop his soul, as the woman before him squirmed with renewed energy, trying to muster enough will to get up from her sorry state and flee from this ornately marvelous manor.
"Draco, don't! You don't need to do this! You don't have to do this," reverberated the strained voice of Narcissa Malfoy, as she tried her best to persuade her son to fight the evil that was forcing him to hurt his own wife.
Draco looked at his mother, his eyes glassy and vacant, and still holding her gaze, he raised his wand once again to point at his cowering wife on the floor.
"Avada Kedavra," furiously whispered Draco, as he watched as the light vanish from Astoria's eyes. She fell back on the carpet limp, unmoving and with a frozen expression of terror displaying the vileness of Draco's act.
Suddenly the world seemed to be spinning off its axis and Draco dropped to his knees staring past Astoria into the glowing embers of the fireplace. Astoria was beautiful, dull, and obedient. A perfect recipe for a Malfoy wife. Her vices ran as far as being vain and materialistic but that was a given, after all she had an ostentatiously extravagant upbringing in the Greengrass family. She was a wife to serve the purpose of a wife barring the emotional connection. They never shared anything even remotely romantic; their day began with his leaving for work and her for her frivolous social gatherings and parties.
Yet, he felt a tug in the pits of his stomach when he looked over to the pale and very dead body of his wife. A person no matter how shallow he or she may have been with no worthwhile contribution to anything important did not deserve to die for it. However, he was forcibly coerced to do so. All to bend to the delusional whims of a mentally deranged person. The said person looked at Astoria with a malicious smile and that appalled Draco to the core. He gingerly rose from the floor squaring his shoulders, and reached over to hold his mother, but to his horror she was dragged back away from him.
"No! You said you would not hurt her, you would let her be safe if I agreed to join your ranks," Draco roared. He glowered at the Death Eater, who was the epitome of evil besides the Dark Lord, who turned to him with a maniacal laugh.
"Draco, you really could not have believed that! I plan to keep her hostage so that I know you won't rat me out and betray me."
The colour drained from Draco's face as he realized how deep he had sunk into an abyss of danger. Before he could say another word, he was cut short as he saw the floo network glow brilliantly as it was activated and Narcissa being dragged to it with a wand jabbed at her neck.
"Well I best be leaving now, I got loads to do with our Dark Lord not being with us anymore," the Death Eater said mournfully and adding acidly, "Remember Draco, you keep your word and I would try my best to keep mine."
With that, the perpetrator vanished with a smile all the while holding onto a struggling Narcissa Malfoy. Before his very eyes, his mother disappeared into the flames and the Manor suddenly felt too cold and empty. The grandeur of the mansion did nothing to hide the horrors that happened within its walls.
The man staggered to the fireplace, the wand clutched tightly in his pale hand, when the floo network was activated again, and the face of Lavender Brown appeared in the flames.
"Malfoy, the papers for the Carrow case just arrived. They will be sent to you by morning, it is imperative you sign them and immediately return them to Harry. I wouldn't be flooing you this late, hadn't it been that important and…and…". Her words faltered, as her eyes rested on the lying corpse of Astoria and then followed the man in front of her whose eyes were blood shot and seemed to seething in anger.
"Oh Merlin, what have you done Malfoy!" The horror struck distorted face of Lavender vanished too soon and before Draco could register the gravity of his situation, he saw several Aurors enter his manor entrance hall.
The men stepped towards him with caution, they could see the lifeless form of Astoria on the floor, and a quick search told them that the elderly Mrs. Malfoy was missing.
"Where is your mother, Malfoy? What have you done with her," fervently asked one of the Aurors, but the words seemed lost on the young Malfoy heir. With, his eyes blank with dried tears staining his alabaster skin, he shrugged.
"I don't know where she is, they took her away, I had to….. I had to do that to…Astoria…" Eyes suddenly wide as he was suddenly hit by the reality hard. "You…you see! I was left with no choice," shouted Malfoy.
A look passed amongst the Aurors, and they steadily approached Draco, snatching away his wand and hauling him away from Astoria's side before disapparating with loud cracks.