Trials of Sorrow
Disclaimer: Okay, if I were JK Rowling, why would I write on fanfiction? So, no, I don't own anybody from HP and whatnot.
A/N: Okay, this story is taking up pretty much where the 5th book left off. It is based off of an RP thing that my friend and I do. It's a bit weird, but that's okay. Oh, yes, during their 5th year: Ron and Hermione got together and Harry and Draco got together...yeah... PLEASE READ THE "CHAPTER" AFTER THIS FOR INFORMATION!!!!
Chapter One: The Beginning of the Rest of Their Lives
Draco lay on his black satin bed sheets. The jade drapes were pulled over the windows, letting in only one shaft of light that fell upon his tear streaked face. He tried to move onto his side, but pain raced up and down his spine at the slightest movement.
Draco reached a shaky hand to a small vial on his mahogany nightstand. He gave a couple of raspy coughs before emptying the contents of the container passed his cracked lips.
"...Great..." the silver-haired boy moaned as he noticed the pale gray mess that lay before him.
With a cry of pain, Draco swung his legs over the side of his bed and collapsed in a heap on the hard wood floor. Another tremor of coughs racked his body as liquid in his lungs stirred and flew into the boy's hand.
One Hour Previously
The healer left the house, the noise of the door closing echoed ominously through the mansion as Lucius turned around to face his son.
"Draco, enlighten me, did I give you permission to catch pneumonia? I don't seem to recall..."
"N-no, father, you didn't. I'm sorry, please forgive me...I-I'll get better within two weeks, the hea-"
"Two weeks isn't good enough," Lucius snarled as he roughly shoved Draco into the wall.
"Father, please!"
"What, Draco, how can I face the Ministry with the knowledge of a weak son? You've brought shame to the name of Malfoy! I must toughen you back up!"
At the last word, Lucius reached out and tore the flimsy silk shirt off of Draco's torso, exposing his milky-white chest.
"Father! No! Stop! Please! Don't hurt me, not again!"
"Don't hurt me!" Lucius mocked, malice glittering in his eyes.
The older man reached down and undid the clasp of his buckle, letting his pants slide down his legs. A large erection covered in blonde fuzz poked Draco's side.
"Hush, my little dragon..."
Resume Normal Time
"Father...no...please..." Draco whispered in his sleep. He tossed and turned. The boy arched his back and pushed into his wardrobe, causing a vase to crash to the ground, shattering at the impact. Flowers and water spread outward, soaking the already ill child. He coughed and began shivering in his sleep.
A thin line of sweat worked its way onto Draco's brow, his hair quickly plastered itself to his forehead. Again, he curled up a fist and brought it to his mouth , sitting bolt upright in bed. Ron reached for a glass of water and gulped it down, praying for the warm liquid to drown the torture that he had endured for the past few days.
He flopped back onto his bed; his lungs ached from non-stop choking. Glancing out the window, Ron realized that he had gotten at least three hours of sleep that night. The sun had risen and it's welcoming rays reached through the torn curtains.
"ROOONN!" Ginny shouted as she slammed open his door, shaking dust from the ceiling, which sent the boy into another coughing fit.
"Sorry, I just thought I'd wake you up, the healer is supposed to be here soon! You know, I bet you just have the flu...and a cough."
Ron felt his chest tighten; he grabbed his white handkerchief and brought it to his mouth. After a few moments he drew it away, catching sight of something red.
"Oh, gross. Gin, could get mum, please?"
"Sure, one second." Ginny said, with a grin spreading across her face. She took a deep breath and...
"MMMUUUUUMMM! RON WANTS TO SEEEE YOUUU!"
"I could have done that,"
"Could not!"
"Could too!"
"Could not!"
"Could too!"
"Could not!"
"Could too!"
"Could not!" Ginny retorted, throwing an aged pillow at Ron's face, silencing any retaliation he may have been brewing.
"VIRGINIA ANNE WEASLEY! How many times MUST I tell you to STAY OUT OF THIS ROOM!" Mrs.Weasley shouted as she entered the room, a blanket thrown over her arm. She moved foreword, her dress making slight swishing noises that cut through the now silent room.
"Ginny, dear, please go downstairs and wait for the healer. He or she should arrive any moment,"
The youngest girl glared at her mother for a moment for before turning heal and marching out of the room. Mrs. Weasley sighed and turned to her son.
"Was there a reason why Ginny screamed for me?" she inquired, smoothing out her ruffled apron. Ron looked at her uncertainly before displaying the once-white handkerchief.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think that's normal..."
Mrs. Weasley looked down and a small gasp escaped her throat. She looked up at Ron's questioning face through her bright blue eyes.
"Th-that's not...blood...I-is it?"
Ron glanced down and the cloth in his hand and back up at his mother before sighing,
"It appears to be,"
Mrs. Weasley put a hand over her mouth.
"Oh, poor bab-"She was cut off by a shriek heard from the kitchen.
"MUUUUUUUMM! THE HEALER IS HERE!"
Mrs. Weasley looked annoyed at the interruption. She turned around and yelled,
"SHOW HIM OR HER UP TO RON'S ROOM, PLEASE!"
Soon, the sound of feet tramping up several flights of rickety wooden stairs could be heard. The door cracked open and a woman's face peered into the room. It was relatively tan with black curls framing the delicate boned features. Her green eyes swept around the bright orange room and lay to rest upon a sunken eyed face lying in a small bed.
"Hello, my name is Healer Lewed, please, call me Anna," the woman addressed herself, stepping into the room with a medical tote in hand.
"Mrs. Weasley, I presume," she said pleasantly, facing the woman, "I'll need you to step out into the hall while I complete my medical examination of your son,"
Mrs. Weasley continued to stand, firmly in place. The expression on her face read concern and determination.
"I think I should stay here," she said, leaving no room for argument.
Anna looked surprised for a moment, before smiling at the motherly affection. She took a step foreword and placed a thin hand on Mrs. Weasley's rather thick shoulder.
"Your son is in good hands, I should reach a diagnosis in around ten minutes. However, a patient, teenage mostly, can feel discomfort with a parent in the room,"
Mrs. Weasley looked taken aback before nodding and quietly backing out of the room. Anna turned toward the bed and spoke.
"Ronald, Ron, I need to ask you a few questions and I would like you to answer them as truthfully you can, alright?"
"Yes, ma'am,"
"What was you temperature last time you checked?"
"103.2 degrees farenheight,"
"Do you find yourself coughing often?"
"Yes, ma'am,"
"Have you woken up to be covered in sweat?"
"Yes, ma'am,"
"Have you coughed up blood?"
"Yes, ma'am," Anna looked startled at this last comment and jotted something down on her clipboard. She drew a small case out of her bag and held it up to Ron.
"I'm going to have to draw some blood to get a complete diagnosis. Please, take your left arm out from beneath your covers,"
Ron obliged and turned to Anna, who was now swabbing down a small patch of his arm.
"How does one go about in d-drawing blood?" he asked tenetivly, a horrible gory picture of his arm being chopped off and a vial being held beneath the dripping stub of his shoulder.
"Like this," Anna stated calmly before sticking a needle into the boy's upper arm. He let out a small yelp of pain and surprise, but was more interested in gaping as the small glass container filled the sticky, red fluid.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
An automatic question, these were the types that were not expected to be answered, merely said in a comforting tone.
Anna poured a brown potion into the vial that the blood was in. It turned a brilliant green. Anna bit her lip at the results and brought her eyes up to meet Ron's hopeful brown ones.
"It's just the flu, right? I can get out of bed soon?" he asked, his whole face glowing with curiosity.
Anna shook her head and responded,
"I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that," she took in a deep, wavering breath, "Ron, you have tuberculosis," she glanced up to see the expression on his face. Ron's face was covered with an expression of shock and dread. He knew what tuberculosis was; everyone in his family did since their Uncle Billius passed away from it two months ago. He...
...stared into his shaking hands. Harry couldn't believe it...Sirius was dead and would never come back to him. His green eyes rose to look at a picture of his parent's wedding. They stood happily while Sirius laughed off to the side. Remus had his arm hooked through his and was resting his head on Sirius' shoulder.
Harry smiled grimly at the picture and stood up to go to the window, the sun glared into his eyes. The boy slid to the floor and picked up a picture of his lover. They had only been together for five months...
"Draco, if only you were here..." A tear of grief slid down his face and landed on top of Draco's sweet smile. He grabbed a piece of parchment and began to compose a letter to his boyfriend.
Dear Draco,
Life has been unbearable without you. I can't stop thinking about Sirius and how his death is my fault! I miss you so much, how's your father been? I know he's abusive, but did he lighten up?
Oh, crap, that's Aunt Petunia, I've probably got to go clean something...
Love with all my heat-
Harry
"Harry?" his aunt called, knocking lightly on the door, "Are you alright? You haven't come out this whole vacation..."
Harry threw his quill to the ground and shouted,
"I'm FINE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"But you've barley eaten..."
"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry yelled, throwing his bottle of ink, which shattered and spread all over the door and onto his carpet.
He grabbed the letter and roughly tied it onto the leg of his reproachful looking owl.
"Take this," he Harry hissed through clenched teeth, "to Draco, please," Hedwig glared at him but took out the open window into the bright blue sky. To Harry, the cheerful color of the sky mocked him.
He turned around and began to...
...pace back and forth. Her shadow passed over mounds of clothes that she had just purchased. She was, however, nervous. They had been out of Hogwarts for two weeks and her boyfriend had not written to her yet. She flung open the window and shouted into the winds,
"RONALD ARTHUR WEASLEY, IF YOU DON'T WRITE SOON, I WILL KILL YOU!"
After this outburst, Hermione felt much better and gazed into the fluffy white clouds. Suddenly, she spotted an official looking owl swooping towards her. She stood back, wondering why they had gotten their Hogwarts letters so quickly.
The tawny owl swept through the window frame and landed on her light pink bed. She rushed over to it and removed the letter from its leg. She then watched as it flew away.
The girl turned her attention back to the envelope in her hand; she tore it open and read,
Miss Hermione Granger,
In order to lighten the spirits of the dark days to come, Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged for a group of 34 people to participate in a musical. He has chosen...CATS by Andrew Lloyd Webber. It's based off of a book of poems by the muggle author T.S. Eliot.
He has requested that you play the role of Jemima. Your friends, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, have been cast into it as well.
Please write back with your answer.
-Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hermione looked up from the letter, one eyebrow raised in amusement. She glanced back at the letter to make sure she had read it correctly.
"CATS..." she murmured, "Ron in a skin-tight unitard, sounds good to me...
Disclaimer: Okay, if I were JK Rowling, why would I write on fanfiction? So, no, I don't own anybody from HP and whatnot.
A/N: Okay, this story is taking up pretty much where the 5th book left off. It is based off of an RP thing that my friend and I do. It's a bit weird, but that's okay. Oh, yes, during their 5th year: Ron and Hermione got together and Harry and Draco got together...yeah... PLEASE READ THE "CHAPTER" AFTER THIS FOR INFORMATION!!!!
Chapter One: The Beginning of the Rest of Their Lives
Draco lay on his black satin bed sheets. The jade drapes were pulled over the windows, letting in only one shaft of light that fell upon his tear streaked face. He tried to move onto his side, but pain raced up and down his spine at the slightest movement.
Draco reached a shaky hand to a small vial on his mahogany nightstand. He gave a couple of raspy coughs before emptying the contents of the container passed his cracked lips.
"...Great..." the silver-haired boy moaned as he noticed the pale gray mess that lay before him.
With a cry of pain, Draco swung his legs over the side of his bed and collapsed in a heap on the hard wood floor. Another tremor of coughs racked his body as liquid in his lungs stirred and flew into the boy's hand.
One Hour Previously
The healer left the house, the noise of the door closing echoed ominously through the mansion as Lucius turned around to face his son.
"Draco, enlighten me, did I give you permission to catch pneumonia? I don't seem to recall..."
"N-no, father, you didn't. I'm sorry, please forgive me...I-I'll get better within two weeks, the hea-"
"Two weeks isn't good enough," Lucius snarled as he roughly shoved Draco into the wall.
"Father, please!"
"What, Draco, how can I face the Ministry with the knowledge of a weak son? You've brought shame to the name of Malfoy! I must toughen you back up!"
At the last word, Lucius reached out and tore the flimsy silk shirt off of Draco's torso, exposing his milky-white chest.
"Father! No! Stop! Please! Don't hurt me, not again!"
"Don't hurt me!" Lucius mocked, malice glittering in his eyes.
The older man reached down and undid the clasp of his buckle, letting his pants slide down his legs. A large erection covered in blonde fuzz poked Draco's side.
"Hush, my little dragon..."
Resume Normal Time
"Father...no...please..." Draco whispered in his sleep. He tossed and turned. The boy arched his back and pushed into his wardrobe, causing a vase to crash to the ground, shattering at the impact. Flowers and water spread outward, soaking the already ill child. He coughed and began shivering in his sleep.
A thin line of sweat worked its way onto Draco's brow, his hair quickly plastered itself to his forehead. Again, he curled up a fist and brought it to his mouth , sitting bolt upright in bed. Ron reached for a glass of water and gulped it down, praying for the warm liquid to drown the torture that he had endured for the past few days.
He flopped back onto his bed; his lungs ached from non-stop choking. Glancing out the window, Ron realized that he had gotten at least three hours of sleep that night. The sun had risen and it's welcoming rays reached through the torn curtains.
"ROOONN!" Ginny shouted as she slammed open his door, shaking dust from the ceiling, which sent the boy into another coughing fit.
"Sorry, I just thought I'd wake you up, the healer is supposed to be here soon! You know, I bet you just have the flu...and a cough."
Ron felt his chest tighten; he grabbed his white handkerchief and brought it to his mouth. After a few moments he drew it away, catching sight of something red.
"Oh, gross. Gin, could get mum, please?"
"Sure, one second." Ginny said, with a grin spreading across her face. She took a deep breath and...
"MMMUUUUUMMM! RON WANTS TO SEEEE YOUUU!"
"I could have done that,"
"Could not!"
"Could too!"
"Could not!"
"Could too!"
"Could not!"
"Could too!"
"Could not!" Ginny retorted, throwing an aged pillow at Ron's face, silencing any retaliation he may have been brewing.
"VIRGINIA ANNE WEASLEY! How many times MUST I tell you to STAY OUT OF THIS ROOM!" Mrs.Weasley shouted as she entered the room, a blanket thrown over her arm. She moved foreword, her dress making slight swishing noises that cut through the now silent room.
"Ginny, dear, please go downstairs and wait for the healer. He or she should arrive any moment,"
The youngest girl glared at her mother for a moment for before turning heal and marching out of the room. Mrs. Weasley sighed and turned to her son.
"Was there a reason why Ginny screamed for me?" she inquired, smoothing out her ruffled apron. Ron looked at her uncertainly before displaying the once-white handkerchief.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think that's normal..."
Mrs. Weasley looked down and a small gasp escaped her throat. She looked up at Ron's questioning face through her bright blue eyes.
"Th-that's not...blood...I-is it?"
Ron glanced down and the cloth in his hand and back up at his mother before sighing,
"It appears to be,"
Mrs. Weasley put a hand over her mouth.
"Oh, poor bab-"She was cut off by a shriek heard from the kitchen.
"MUUUUUUUMM! THE HEALER IS HERE!"
Mrs. Weasley looked annoyed at the interruption. She turned around and yelled,
"SHOW HIM OR HER UP TO RON'S ROOM, PLEASE!"
Soon, the sound of feet tramping up several flights of rickety wooden stairs could be heard. The door cracked open and a woman's face peered into the room. It was relatively tan with black curls framing the delicate boned features. Her green eyes swept around the bright orange room and lay to rest upon a sunken eyed face lying in a small bed.
"Hello, my name is Healer Lewed, please, call me Anna," the woman addressed herself, stepping into the room with a medical tote in hand.
"Mrs. Weasley, I presume," she said pleasantly, facing the woman, "I'll need you to step out into the hall while I complete my medical examination of your son,"
Mrs. Weasley continued to stand, firmly in place. The expression on her face read concern and determination.
"I think I should stay here," she said, leaving no room for argument.
Anna looked surprised for a moment, before smiling at the motherly affection. She took a step foreword and placed a thin hand on Mrs. Weasley's rather thick shoulder.
"Your son is in good hands, I should reach a diagnosis in around ten minutes. However, a patient, teenage mostly, can feel discomfort with a parent in the room,"
Mrs. Weasley looked taken aback before nodding and quietly backing out of the room. Anna turned toward the bed and spoke.
"Ronald, Ron, I need to ask you a few questions and I would like you to answer them as truthfully you can, alright?"
"Yes, ma'am,"
"What was you temperature last time you checked?"
"103.2 degrees farenheight,"
"Do you find yourself coughing often?"
"Yes, ma'am,"
"Have you woken up to be covered in sweat?"
"Yes, ma'am,"
"Have you coughed up blood?"
"Yes, ma'am," Anna looked startled at this last comment and jotted something down on her clipboard. She drew a small case out of her bag and held it up to Ron.
"I'm going to have to draw some blood to get a complete diagnosis. Please, take your left arm out from beneath your covers,"
Ron obliged and turned to Anna, who was now swabbing down a small patch of his arm.
"How does one go about in d-drawing blood?" he asked tenetivly, a horrible gory picture of his arm being chopped off and a vial being held beneath the dripping stub of his shoulder.
"Like this," Anna stated calmly before sticking a needle into the boy's upper arm. He let out a small yelp of pain and surprise, but was more interested in gaping as the small glass container filled the sticky, red fluid.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
An automatic question, these were the types that were not expected to be answered, merely said in a comforting tone.
Anna poured a brown potion into the vial that the blood was in. It turned a brilliant green. Anna bit her lip at the results and brought her eyes up to meet Ron's hopeful brown ones.
"It's just the flu, right? I can get out of bed soon?" he asked, his whole face glowing with curiosity.
Anna shook her head and responded,
"I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that," she took in a deep, wavering breath, "Ron, you have tuberculosis," she glanced up to see the expression on his face. Ron's face was covered with an expression of shock and dread. He knew what tuberculosis was; everyone in his family did since their Uncle Billius passed away from it two months ago. He...
...stared into his shaking hands. Harry couldn't believe it...Sirius was dead and would never come back to him. His green eyes rose to look at a picture of his parent's wedding. They stood happily while Sirius laughed off to the side. Remus had his arm hooked through his and was resting his head on Sirius' shoulder.
Harry smiled grimly at the picture and stood up to go to the window, the sun glared into his eyes. The boy slid to the floor and picked up a picture of his lover. They had only been together for five months...
"Draco, if only you were here..." A tear of grief slid down his face and landed on top of Draco's sweet smile. He grabbed a piece of parchment and began to compose a letter to his boyfriend.
Dear Draco,
Life has been unbearable without you. I can't stop thinking about Sirius and how his death is my fault! I miss you so much, how's your father been? I know he's abusive, but did he lighten up?
Oh, crap, that's Aunt Petunia, I've probably got to go clean something...
Love with all my heat-
Harry
"Harry?" his aunt called, knocking lightly on the door, "Are you alright? You haven't come out this whole vacation..."
Harry threw his quill to the ground and shouted,
"I'm FINE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"But you've barley eaten..."
"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry yelled, throwing his bottle of ink, which shattered and spread all over the door and onto his carpet.
He grabbed the letter and roughly tied it onto the leg of his reproachful looking owl.
"Take this," he Harry hissed through clenched teeth, "to Draco, please," Hedwig glared at him but took out the open window into the bright blue sky. To Harry, the cheerful color of the sky mocked him.
He turned around and began to...
...pace back and forth. Her shadow passed over mounds of clothes that she had just purchased. She was, however, nervous. They had been out of Hogwarts for two weeks and her boyfriend had not written to her yet. She flung open the window and shouted into the winds,
"RONALD ARTHUR WEASLEY, IF YOU DON'T WRITE SOON, I WILL KILL YOU!"
After this outburst, Hermione felt much better and gazed into the fluffy white clouds. Suddenly, she spotted an official looking owl swooping towards her. She stood back, wondering why they had gotten their Hogwarts letters so quickly.
The tawny owl swept through the window frame and landed on her light pink bed. She rushed over to it and removed the letter from its leg. She then watched as it flew away.
The girl turned her attention back to the envelope in her hand; she tore it open and read,
Miss Hermione Granger,
In order to lighten the spirits of the dark days to come, Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged for a group of 34 people to participate in a musical. He has chosen...CATS by Andrew Lloyd Webber. It's based off of a book of poems by the muggle author T.S. Eliot.
He has requested that you play the role of Jemima. Your friends, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, have been cast into it as well.
Please write back with your answer.
-Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hermione looked up from the letter, one eyebrow raised in amusement. She glanced back at the letter to make sure she had read it correctly.
"CATS..." she murmured, "Ron in a skin-tight unitard, sounds good to me...