Only Ashes

Chapter 1 – Old Memories

Noise. Laughter. A bunch of people smiling and shaking hands. It was the same every year. At King's Cross, on Platform 9 and ¾, some were ready to walk on the train to Hogwarts and some were staying home and waving goodbye. Old friends and schoolmates were happy to see each other again, parents stood sad, but proud on the platform, giving their last advice to their sons and daughters. It was just the same every year, always just the same: the same people, the same gestures, the same words… Everything was unchanged, excepting Ginevra Weasley – Ginny, or Gin for short. Actually, she never was the same person as the year before. She never was the same person since meeting the famous Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. She had seen him for the first time just there, on the Platform 9 and ¾, five years ago. He was only a small, thin boy, with a messy black hair and a pair of broken eye-glasses. He had a very sad look on his face and he didn't smile at all. Right then, she had felt sorry for him, smiled at him and waved him goodbye. He hadn't even noticed her at the time. Then, the next year, when Ginny went for the first time to Hogwarts, she had had a crush on him – a huge one at that. She always blushed when near Harry, she always went clumsy and shy. But only until her third year – when she realized that other boys existed… like Neville Longbottom, or Michael Corner…

In her fourth year, Ginny had dated various boys from different houses. She had thought that she was over Harry. And she was. But she couldn't manage to stop that furious heartbeat she got every time when she saw him sad, when she heard him scream, woken up by a nightmare, or when she saw him cry, very late at night, gazing at the fire, as if he wanted it to burn up all his pain. She had talked to him more than once, telling him it wasn't his fault so many people had died – Harry wouldn't listen… And that… that broke Ginny's heart.

Now she was in year five, her terrifying O.W.L.s awaiting, and she was yet another Ginny - a Ginny that was afraid of long, dark hallways with laughing Death Eaters at the end of them; a Ginny that was determined to no longer live in the shadow of her older brothers; a Ginny who didn't want to love, because she thought love meant loss, and loss meant pain. It meant Harry's pain, Neville's pain, and, most importantly, her own pain.

The train was passing by villages and forests as if they were only illusions, only blurry images in a broken mirror. And it wasn't just because it was going very fast past them – Ginny's eyes were filled with tears, and she didn't even know why. The tears burnt her skin like streams of fire, sliding to her chin, then falling on the pages of the book she had been trying to read. She watched them falling, one by one, and with every falling tear she could feel that her heart became lighter, and lighter. She began asking herself if she could deal with this new Ginny she had formed inside, and if love could really be pushed away that easily. She was almost ready to wipe her tears and to come back to reality, when a slow, sweet music reached her hearing. There were the sounds of a guitar playing a sad love song, as Ginny supposed. Pushed further by curiosity, she left her lonely compartment, following the music. As she passed by students of different houses and different years chatting and sharing each other the latest gossip, she wondered if she was the only one hearing the heavenly music, if it was only a dream. Just as she was thinking this, she felt she was closer and closer to the source of the music, as she could hear the guitar sounds more loudly and clearly. She slowly opened the compartment door, her hand shaking, unable to create in her mind any face that would fit the singer, when she almost had a shock: inside was sitting one boy, alone, leaning over his guitar almost in pain, black, messy hair all over his face. Ginny gasped, the door creaked, and the boy raised his head – it was Harry Potter.

"Ginny! What are you doing here?"

"I… Can you really play the guitar?" the girl asked in wonder.

"Well… I… I… no… yes! I mean…! Yes, I can play the guitar…" he sighed, uneasy about revealing his new secret.

"It's… great! Angelic! But… where are Ron and Hermione? And… I thought you weren't playing any instrument…"

"Errrmmm… thanks… I learned how to play it during summer… You know… nothing to do, and I saw it in a shop while walking on the streets of London, I liked it, Lupin was with me and… he thought it was worth a try… Oh, and Ron and Hermione… Well… I thought they needed a little privacy…" Harry grinned, much to Ginny's amusement. "But hey, Ginny, have you been crying?"

The girl hurried to wipe away some of the tears still lingering on her face.

"N-no! Of course not! What in the world would I cry for? You know what I think: tears are just a loss of energy!" Ginny forced a smile.

Harry knew Ginny was lying, but what could he say to her when he himself to Ron whenever he caught him in a desperate phase?

"Oh, O.K., then." He smiled back absently, with his mind on those nights when he didn't dare to get out of his bed because he was afraid of the dark images that haunted him in his sleep.

"Errrrmmm… Would you mind if I stay? I'd love to hear you play some more…"

"Not at all, Gin."

While the music once again flew from the strings Harry touched, in the next compartment another lonely person with shady feelings kept away from the outer world was thinking of his life that far. Grey eyes seemed mist over the depths of soul, unspilt tears were heavy padlocks at doors that hid awful memories. Draco Malfoy was, for the first time in his life, wondering if that was how he really was, if that was how he was meant to be. He thought of his name – 'Draco' – what an irony, 'Dragon'… He was just like a dragon, breathing fire and turning everything in sight into ashes, just to protect a fake treasure, fake values that sustained his being, his acting, his understanding. But what if he would destroy all those fake values, forget all about them? No, if he'd do that his whole 'perfect' world would turn into a haunted castle.

(flashback)

"No, Draco! Please, don't do that! Your father will be furious if he finds out!"

"But he won't! I'm sure you won't tell him anything, mother!"

"Draco!"

"Oh, come on, it's just for this evening. I'll be back in no time! Please!"

"But you know very well your father said…"

"Yes, yes! But I can't stay locked inside the house all day long! I haven't done anything wrong and I had Dark Arts training with him every day! I deserve an evening out!"

Narcissa Malfoy was unsure whether she should follow the orders her husband was now accustomed to give to everybody, or whether she should just let her son have some fun outside the gates of the dusty old manor. After a few minutes of deep thinking, she had taken her decision.

"Very well, you may go… I won't tell a word to your father…"

"Thank you, mother!"

"Just make sure you get back in time!" she shouted her last words while Draco made his way out of the dormitory.

Six hours passed and there was still no sign of Draco. Narcissa began to feel worried. Lucius would be home very soon and if he wouldn't find his son, he would get extremely angry and who knows what could happen!

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway.

"Draco?" Narcissa asked hopefully.

"No, it's me." the answer came to her fright. "Where's my son?" the man's voice asked in turn as his hand pushed the door open. "Well!" he shouted while seeing the very pale face of his wife.

Draco hurriedly opened the door to the living-room downstairs, just in time to hear Lucius conjuring the Cruciatus curse and one sharp scream given out by his mother. He lowered his head and he tightened the grip of his fist. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and his eyes were aching.

(end of flashback)

As the Hogwarts Express continued its way over the swampy hills, in a lonely compartment a blonde young man tightened the grip of his fist at the remembrance of an evening some time ago.

A/N: Please REVIEW! Might be an OotP sequel, I haven't decided yet… REVIEW, anyway!