Fan Fiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, for if I did, I wouldn't spend most my time on the computer while eating Rocky Road ice cream, now would I? No, I don't think so. Well, I'd still be eating the Rocky Road…
A/N: All right, we'll try this again, shall we? This chapter is kind of short, but it's just telling you some vital information. Another AN at the bottom.
A day like any other: bleak, unrelenting, and overall boring. Life hadn't much differed since Draco Malfoy first on his life in his sixth year. He wouldn't, however, tell you that a lot had, in fact happened. Dumbledore had been murdered. He himself ran away from school with his Potions Professor whilst the castle had been under attack of the Death Eaters; after the initial attack, Snape had slain Dumbledore. Harry Potter had then in retaliation, gone after horcruxes with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, and finished Lord Voldemort off. Of course this is only a slight summed up version of what happened to one Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Wizarding world; but really, what is yet to happen is where our story takes place. We find Draco residing in Malfoy Manor with his mother. Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to an extra lifetime term in Azkaban after the Dark Lord's fall, and being recaptured by Aurors after escaping Azkaban in the first place. This story takes place six months after the fall of the Dark Lord.
Draco stared listlessly at his crème wall awaiting the arrival of the Minister of Magic. He'd been sitting in his room for half a day already, staring off into space. Young Master Malfoy hadn't been sleeping well for a few months (understandably) and the events as of late just added to his troubles. There had been dreams of torture, of what he could've done to save his family, himself, so many people; Not to mention the 'what if's' that were running rapidly, like wild stallions through his mind. The Minister's visit was about something very important, though top secret. The office of the Minister couldn't even tell the family House-elves who answered the mail what the meeting would include, because they themselves didn't know exactly why the Minister wanted to meet with the remaining Malfoys. After hearing of the impending meeting, Draco went to his room and sat there. He didn't feel sorry for himself in any way (He repeatedly told himself this). He didn't know what was to come, so one would think he'd be nervous, but he wasn't. He thought he deserved any punishment that would be brought upon him. He really had no disposition on the situation, and wouldn't care either way if the Minister came or not, or decided he needed to be incarcerated in Azkaban. He really thought he didn't care. But as you know, these things, they always get worse; and that's exactly what happened, or is about to happen, or so he'll think.
The anticipated day was actually a quite sunny one. The birds were chirping in the fine, yet unseasonably warm February afternoon air; and the squirrels joyously collected their nuts, bounding from tree to tree, oblivious like so many beings, of the turmoil proceeding in Malfoy Manor. At exactly noon, one Rufus Scrimgeour: Minister of Magic had just flooed to said Malfoy Manor; and was waiting as Draco Malfoy: Head of Malfoy Manor, proceeded down the grand staircase for his awaiting consultation.
As Draco descended down the white marble staircase, he couldn't help but think why he was in this mess. It wasn't long before he arrived at the parlor door. Said door was rich, thick mahogany inscribed with many grains, creating intricate designs deep inside the wood. As he took the gold doorknob in his hand, he took a deep breath and made sure his face was impassive, so as to not show anything that might be (even though there wasn't anything) going through Draco's head to give away his view of the predicament. The door opened, and what sight Draco saw inside made his move to remove his emotion from his face futile, because after the door open, it looked like he would pass out from shock.
Standing next to the Minister of Magic was someone Draco never expected to see ever again…especially not standing in the center of his parlor.
Hermione Granger was a somewhat normal girl of 18. Well, she was more a normal Witch of 18, if you were to call anyone normal. She was of 'normal' height, 'desirable' weight, and curly, unruly Chestnut-brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes. This witch however, was not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill girl. You see, Hermione Granger fought with the Famous Harry Potter, graduated first in her class from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and was as of now, working under the Minister of Magic himself. After getting the top scores in Hogwarts history on her N.E.W.T.'s she was immediately offered a position in the Ministry.
Hermione lived on her own in a small flat in London. It was moderately small, but served the purpose of housing one witch and her unusual cat. Her flat was located just a short muggle bus ride away from the Ministry of Magic itself, or half an hour by foot. It was here that Hermione received an owl that would change her whole life. Said owl was from the Minister of Magic himself ("That in itself is quite the honor" as Percy Weasley would say).
One cold day in February, Hermione was awoken to a sharp, insistent rap on the window. The hour was early, so early in fact, that the sun had not even risen. It was three AM and Hermione, like any other sensible person cursed the exasperating bird. Throwing back the covers sleepily, Hermione made her way, sluggishly to the window to let the damned bird inside. Upon opening the frost-covered window, the grey tawny owl bolted inside, either eager to escape the bone-chilling cold, or to deliver it's message. After untying the scroll from the owl's leg slowly and tiredly, Hermione gave it some owl treats (she usually kept a stock for the owls that delivered her anything), which it gobbled down quickly, and with a hoot, was out the window again, flying off into the night.
Now, Hermione was still, as a lot of us would be at three in the morning, was still incredibly tired. However, a feeling in the pit of her stomach told her to just read the letter, as it was, she reminded herself, delivered by an owl in the middle of the night, and so therefore must be very important.
She couldn't have been more right. However tired Hermione felt before reading the letter vanished after reading what was written on the scroll of parchment, to be replaced by mild curiosity.
AN: all right so, this is a repost. I didn't like how this was first written, so I redid it. Please let me know what you think. This chapter is sort of rushed because it's just the starting chapter, and thing's have happened that needed to be laid out. So, please hit that little purple button, and tell me what you think! More to come with more reviews, or I get bored...whatever comes first.