Ashes and Dust : Chapter 1 : Remnants and Ruins
Disclaimer: I don't own Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy or whoever else you'll find it fun to sue me for. It's not that fun, I assure you.
A/N: The Draco/Hermione fic I thought up a couple of days ago. It'll only be a few chapters, but we'll se how we go.
It's a pretty dark and moody fic, and rating is PG-13 for some swearing every now and then. It's set about at the end of their seventh year, when the Wizarding World basically just finished a devastating war.
Please read and review!
Warning: There MAY be spoilers in future chapters. But not here in this chapter. This chapter is spoiler-free, so read on!
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Draco Malfoy walked among ruins. Ruins that could barely be identifiable as Hogwarts. He noticed a tower and some poorly repaired buildings in the distance, perhaps all that was left of what he once had known as his second home.
What had happened to this place?
He didn't notice the walls had fallen when he had had his wand out, firing curses and spells left and right. He didn't see the explosions as he had dodged the flasks of deadly potions. Torn, broken and ripping at the seams. Scorch marks, still smoking rubble where what once was probably a classroom. And how many dead? He wondered. How many lost their lives on the very ground he was walking on?
How many did he kill?
Draco took two steps and retched. He threw up as the faces of nameless victims rose from a sea of blood in his mind. Bodies. So many bodies. Lifeless, eagle-sprawled, dead. Dead! He choked, and sat down with a sudden force. What was left of the Wizarding World now that we were fighting each other? Muggles would've called it a Civil War. We had always called it brutality. And here we are. We killed ourselves. We're bringing ourselves into extinction. How are we any different to them?
"Malfoy, is that you?"
Draco looked up, and saw a figure walk towards him. "No. It isn't." He made himself say. His voice croaked, hoarse from the pain and tears.
"My name's Hermione. Are you hurt?"
The person was getting closer and by now, even Draco knew for sure it was Granger. Who else had the name Hermione? Shit. He brought his sleeve up and wiped his face, but it only served to dirty it further. His hair was no longer the slick blond, but the brown of dirt and maybe even the red of blood.
"No." He answered. Then: "Fuck off Granger."
Hermione was close enough. Only a few meters, and though her own face was still blanketed by shadow, she could see the boy as plain as day. And there was no mistaking that sneer.
"So it is you, Malfoy."
"Granger. So you're not dead yet. I always thought they would've killed off all you Mudbloods first."
The girl stiffened, but moved forward and sat down of what looked like the remains of a teacher's desk. Her eyes, Draco noticed, were unmoving and expressionless, which was exactly how he felt. Her hair was shorter, unlike the bushy mass it had been 'til fifth year, but tied up in what Muggles called a ponytail. Her Head Girl badge was gone, and her hands were red.
"Even you know that's not true. They didn't have any target. Whoever wasn't with them, they destroyed. We fought. All of us."
Draco felt a bubbling guilt he didn't remember.
"Not me." He said suddenly, jumping up. His voice was deadly. "I was ready to run."
"We all were."
"No!" He looked fiercely at her, and his voice pierced the silence around them. "It was different. If I could have, I would have. I was ready to run."
"But you didn't. And we all were."
Hermione looked at Draco, and the look in her eyes made him sit back down.
"We fought. But we didn't want to. You think we wanted this?" Her voice cracked, and she gestured around her. "No. We didn't. You think you were the only one who was afraid? Well, you're not so special, Malfoy."
Draco was quiet, and Hermione continued.
"Do you know many people died? Do you know how many people I know are lying here? How many Muggles died as well? Too many, Malfoy. Too many."
"My fa – Lucius died here."
"Yes. I know. He was in the first attack."
"I fought him. I helped kill him."
Hermione fell silent, but Draco knew it wasn't pity she was feeling, for him or for Lucius.
"What about Potter?" Draco said quietly.
Everyone had known Harry Potter had been the most important. Everyone had known that it the future itself had been laid in his hands. Everyone had known that he had been the one to protect, that he was the key. But no one knew if he was still alive.
"We don't know. We haven't found his body." Hermione felt sick. She couldn't believe she was talking about Harry like this. "Or his wand. But if his dead, then – "
"Voldermort's alive." Draco finished.
"And we haven't found him either."
"We?"
"What did you think Malfoy? That you and I were the only survivors?"
"Well…no."
"Many died here, Draco. And more in other places. Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, Wizard-inhabited places. But many survived as well. Some of us are still waiting, although most of us have nothing to wait for. I was lucky."
"Because you're not dead?"
Hermione glared daggers at Malfoy and shook her head furiously. "You think dying's the worst that can happen, Draco? Then you don't want to see some of those that have recovered. We don't have a certified nurse anymore. Bruises are easy to heal, but burnings are not. Some of the survivors are paraplegics or deaf or blind. There are enough of them to show you what war can do."
Draco didn't move, but he closed his eyes. He knew what type of 'burning' Granger had meant. He knew because he was guilty of acts similar. Torture with fire. But torture of Muggles and Muggleborns had turned to torture of any wizard against their cause.
"I should be in Azkaban."
Hermione shook her head again. "Azkaban is nothing anymore. It's worst than this."
Draco looked up, confusion betraying his emotionless tone. "So what did Aurors do with the followers?"
"Killed them. They were given power to kill Death Eaters on sight. It was slaughter on both sides, and you can't be imprisoned for murdering in a war. War is murder in itself." Hermione looked down at the ground, then back at Draco.
"So there's nothing left for me. Never was." He glared at her with annoyance. "Just go away Granger. Let me be alone."
Hermione didn't react at all. "Now we're just waiting."
"For what?" Draco sneered, though the essence of it had disappeared. The malice was gone and it was just an empty expression like those on the faces of the dead.
"For an answer."
Draco felt his heart freeze, though he knew many would say it was already made of ice already. He knew what came next, and he knew it was true.
"Though there's no one left to reply." He finished.
Hermione nodded, and felt the tears rise, though unwilling to fall. She looked down, and blinked once. The droplets fell, splashing against the dust. The remnants of a once magnificent and noble school.
"An answer, Draco. A reason to keep going. Some of us have hope, but most of us are just waiting for a chance for it to finish. We're just waiting for end's end."
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Was that okay? I know it's slightly confusing, but let me know what you think by clicking on the little thing below that let's you review my story. Pretty please?