Title: The Bleeding Eden
Author: toujouruspur
Rating: M (eventually)
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione (others to come, but it would reveal some plot)
Disclaimer: The usual: I'm not creatively responsible for anything in this story besides the plot and the people I make up. I don't think I'll be quoting from others, but if I do I'll mention it.
Warnings: Slash (Male/Male) and a partial disregard explained in the rehash section.
Rehash: I didn't want to completely disregard the sixth book, but I did want Dumbledore alive so here's what I settled on. Everything in the sixth book happened except that when Snape aimed the death spell at Dumbledore, he missed on purpose and fled the school. They still discovered that the locket from the cave was a fake and Ginny and Harry still split up. I think that about covers it…so yeah, enjoy.
Chapter One: The Blonde and the Burrow
Harry potter woke with a smile on his face without any recollection of why it might be there. He supposed it had something to do with his dreams. It was odd, the one place that seemed to provide nothing but turmoil had now become the only place in his life that wasn't tumultuous. His smile faltered at this thought, and when he remembered the things in his life that made it tumultuous, it faded all together. He opened his eyes to the blurry world and reached around on the floor for his glasses. His hand recoiled as it touched the cold hardwood, but he found them and quickly put them on.
It was the same room he'd woken up to for nearly two months now. Black burgundy planks on the floor, long black curtains that blew whether the window was open or not, two cherry wood beds (one his, one empty). It was bittersweet opening his eyes to the room each morning. Good because he knew that he was nowhere near number four, Privet Drive, Little Winging, Surrey; and bad because he knew that just over a year ago, his godfather had been alive and sleeping in the bed that now laid empty. It was all he could do to try and research as much as possible to put a stop to Voldemort; the cause that Sirius had died fighting.
He heaved a heavy sigh and a familiar headache threatened him from behind his eyes. Hermione, research, and horcrux; the three words sure to set him of at brief mention. After all the information Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, had given him last year about horcruxes, he'd been researching nonstop since he arrived at Grimmauld place in the middle of June. Hermione, who had come to stay as well to help the order research spells, had now adopted Harry's "horcrux problem" as her new personal mission: find out what the horcruxes are, and kill Harry in the process. He knew she meant well, but if it wasn't for Ron he didn't think he'd still be alive.
The smile returned. Ron; his best friend. The tall red-head had also been helping the order, though not at Grimmauld Place. He left each morning with his father to work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. While there, however, his work strayed greatly from muggle trinkets; more toward reviewing battle strategy with Kingsley and Tonks (two aurors). Finally, Harry thought, a good use for his chess skills.
Thinking that he was not quite ready to get up and that he would never be ready to start research with Hermione again, he decided it might be time to slip back to sleep. He made to remove his glasses, but the instant he felt the familiar frame on his fingertips an alarm sounded from the floor below him. Suddenly, the quiet morning was alive with sound: people running and yelling, Mrs. Black shouting her complaints about mudbloods, and a deafening siren ringing from the front lawn. Harry grasped his wand and jumped out of bed, nearly colliding into Hermione as he burst out the door.
"What's going on?" he asked, having to yell to make himself heard.
"Not sure!" she yelled back, pulling out her wand as they went down stairs two at a time. "I was in the family archives and I heard it, but it can only mean one thing, can it? Intruders at the apparition point."
"I thought this place was protected by the Fidelus charm?" He was referring to the spell that concealed a place from ordinary people, making itself visible only when the "secret keeper" told a person of its whereabouts.
"It is, so I'm not really sure what's happening." They had reached the bottom floor, Mrs. Black's voice now muffled slightly as Tonks tried desperately to magic the curtains over her portrait closed. Lupin ran by them, followed by Mad Eye Moody and Mr. Weasley who came running out of the kitchen. Before the kitchen door swung closed behind them, Harry caught a glimpse of Mrs. Weasley standing white-faced in her apron, staring after them.
As Harry and Hermione reached the door, ready to jump over the threshold, strong hands grasped them both on their shoulders and pushed them to either side of the door causing them to stumble backwards. They looked up and saw Mad Eye who said roughly "You stay here." Neither of them had an opportunity to protest before he and those following him were out the door.
"Come on!" Hermione said, scrambling to her feet, "we'll be able to see from the second story balcony!" Harry stood and ran after her, up the stairs they had just come down. On the second floor landing they tore down a hallway, past Harry's bedroom door, Hermione's, Ron's, Ginny's, and a spare to the end where two glass-paned doors separated the hallway from the balcony.
Halfway to them, Hermione had said, "Alohomora" so that when they reached them they had already moved out of the way. Hermione stopped quickly but Harry practically threw himself onto the stone railing as he peered over at the scene below them. Immediately, his heart slowed.
There was no fighting, in fact some of the people seemed to be heading inside, including a disgruntled Moody who said something that sounded like "Damn grease—ball."
Confused, Harry looked to the majority of the people who were standing, wands pocketed, in a circle around a bush he knew to be the apparition point. Hermione, from her position a few feet down from Harry, gasped. "What! What is it?" he said, anxiously, moving to where she stood to see. He saw it to. Severus Snape, potions master and absolute git, holding someone Harry couldn't quite make out.
"Who is it?" he asked Hermione, "who's he with?" While Harry thought Snape was a traitor, the house did not and it wouldn't go off if it was just him; the alarm went off because of whoever Snape was holding. From the way the dark shape slumped in the potion master's arms, it was clear he or she was unconscious.
"Think it's safe to go back down, Hermione?"
"Yes, let's," she said, tearing her eyes away from a vain attempt at unveiling the mystery person. When they made it downstairs, this time at a much slower pace, the last of the aurors were coming inside and Remus closed the door behind himself. Snape was no where to be seen.
"What happened? Who was that?"
"Severus," Lupin said, running a hand through his thinning hair.
"I know, but—" Harry realized that, despite the fact that no one was shouting, the alarm was off and Mrs. Black had contained herself, he was still yelling. He lowered his voice. "Sorry. I mean, who was with him?"
"Ah," Lupin said, looking suddenly nervous. "Well that's of no concern."
"As if telling us it's of 'no concern' would abate our curiosity," Hermione said, incredulously. "Just tell us."
"It's really not—"
"Remus!"
"—of any concern and—"
"Remus!"
"—I don't think it's important that—"
"REMUS!"
A sigh, and then, "fine." He turned to face them. "Severus brought a badly injured classmate of yours."
"Who?"
"Draco Malfoy," he said in a tiny voice, and then he turned and walked up the stairs, presumably towards his room.
øøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøø
"Remus, open up! I'm not going to go away until you do!" Harry shouted, pounding on one of the many cedar doors that lined the fourth floor hallway. Remus obliged, looking tired. It only took five minutes of pounding and yelling, but finally it had paid off.
"Don't ever let anyone tell you that perseverance is one of your weak points, Harry," he said as he moved to let him in. "Oh, and miss Granger as well," he added as the bushy haired girl followed Harry into the room.
"Hello, Remus," she said quietly, not looking up. From her awkward disposition it was clear to Lupin that she was caught between her desire to not impose on others and her desire to know everything. The latter, it seemed, had won; but only by a little bit. Harry was standing looking at him when Remus turned around, but Hermione had seated herself in a chair by the window and was looking out of it distractedly.
"What is it, Harry?"
"What is it?" he repeated, flabbergasted. "What is it?"
"Yes, what is it."
"Why the hell is Draco bloody Malfoy in my house?"
The words stung Lupin on a level Harry could never have seen. It was Harry's house now, not Sirius'…Sirius was dead. "I don't know, Harry, it wasn't me who brought him here."
"Snape didn't say anything? He just showed up with…him…in his arms and waltzed on into the house without explanation?"
"All I heard Severus say was that the boy was badly injured and that this was the only place he thought to take him."
"Why not Hogwarts?" Hermione inquired from her window-side perch.
"I'm not sure…I suppose because the events of last June are still fresh in his memory. It would not be best for Mr. Malfoy to return to Hogwarts without at least a conversation with Dumbledore, would it?"
"I suppose not," said Harry, still angry but no longer fuming, "but why did he have to come here? Doesn't Snape have a home?"
"No, as a matter of fact he does not. It was destroyed almost a year ago when the death eaters blew up a bridge in London. Parts of the debris crushed his home."
"Snape lived in muggle London?" Harry asked, now more confused than angry. "I thought he hated muggles?"
"No, he does not."
"But he's a death eater!"
"No, he is not."
Harry sighed; apparently they were all still pretending that Snape was on their side. "Fine, but he's still a pureblood!"
"Not all purebloods are bigots, Harry. Tonks is and she and Hermione are fantastic friends. Speaking of which, Hermione, I'm glad you came." She turned to face him. "I know that the youngest Malfoy isn't exactly friends with you all," Harry scoffed at the understatement but Lupin continued, "but please try and disregard his comments."
"You say that like you know he's going to offer them," Harry said.
"I'm sure he will, but I'm asking you, Hermione, and you too, Harry, to ignore them and do your best to at least remain neutral."
Harry gaped at him. "I can't even believe you're saying this! Do you know what he's—"
"I'm fully aware of the situation, Harry, and in spite of that I'm asking this of you. Shouldn't that tell you that I have a very, very good reason for requesting this?"
"I suppose," he muttered, resentfully. Lupin was many things, but irrational was never one of them.
"Treat him as you treat Severus; ignore him when you can, but when you can't be civil."
"I still think this is—"
But Hermione cut him off. "Come on, Harry, it's time we left," she said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to the door. "Thank you for the explanations, Remus."
He nodded his head in understanding, and they left.
"Come on, I had more questions!"
"I know you did, that's why I pulled you out."
"You confuse me, Hermione,"
"Lupin told you all he knew, or at least all he wanted you to know. Pressing him further would be rude and inconsiderate."
"Ok, Mrs. Weasley."
Hermione ignored the comment as she steered him further to the stairwell. "I think breakfast should be ready now; let's get some and hit the books, shall we?"
"Oh yes, lets!" Harry said with mock enthusiasm.
"I think Ron's rubbing off on you…"
øøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøøø
They arrived at breakfast to find that they were the only ones, aside from Mrs. Weasley, in the kitchen. Harry thought that by now the shock of that morning's events would have faded, but the elderly woman still looked as white as a sheet, the same way she'd been when Harry saw her while dashing for the door.
"Mrs. Weasley…" he said carefully as she set dishes with sausages and eggs on the table, "are you alright?"
"Oh yes Harry, dear, you just eat up."
He was amazed at how cheery her voice was when compared to her appearance. "Are you sure, because you seem—"
She broke out into a storm of sobs and collapsed into one of the chairs. As she leaned over the table, reddened face pressing and contorting against the marble surface as she laid her head on it, Harry and Hermione rushed to either side of her.
"Mrs. Weasley, what is it?" Hermione asked, looking concerned.
"Trouble with Percy?" Harry offered. At this, she sobbed harder and Hermione gave him a reproachful glare.
"You're so tactless, Harry!"
"No, it's alright," said Mrs. Weasley, tears slowing, "he's just concerned. It's just…I…there!" she said, pointing at a tear-soaked pile of parchments on the counter before she dissolved into tears once more. Harry crossed the way and picked up the Daily Prophet while Hermione continued to hold and rock a distressful Mrs. Weasley.
Harry's jaw dropped when he saw a picture of the burrow, complete with magically added rooms and yard littered with old Wellington boots, burning; underneath it, the article header proclaimed: DEATH EATERS TARGET HOMES OF "BLOOD-TRAITOR" FAMILIES. Harry read on.
A harsh reminder was sent to the citizens of the wizarding world this morning when the residences of several pureblood families were destroyed: Death eaters do not just target muggles. The homes of the Brown, Longbottom, and Weasley families (all of whom are pure-blooded), were burnt to the ground at the hands of several death eaters, the servants of he who must not be named.
It is a common misconception by wizards and witches alike that the death eaters are seeking to destroy non-magical peoples only. In reality, he who must not be named and his followers have set out to destroy anyone who is not at least half-blood in addition to pureblood families who's members have married muggles. These families, deemed "blood traitors" by the death eaters, are also part of the crowd the dark forces have targeted.
There are, of course, other "blood traitor" families, who's homes have not yet been attacked; the Ministry of Magic is working feverishly to ensure that—
Harry stopped reading, a sickening wave of sadness sweeping through him as he looked over at the sobbing woman with understanding. Hermione, looking to him confused, asked, "what is it, Harry? What's happened?"
He ignored her. "Mrs. Weasley, you have to know that you're welcome to stay here, right?"
The woman flung herself up from the table, nearly knocking Hermione to the floor, and gripped Harry in a hug that made him think of Hagrid. "Oh, Harry! I don't know what this family would do without you," she said, speaking into the crook of his neck and shoulder. "You've saved Ginny, Arthur, and Ron…now you've given us all a home." Harry blushed, thankful that she wasn't looking at him so he didn't have to divert his gaze. "Thank you, Harry. Thank you!"
She sobbed for a little while longer before composing herself and dragging Harry and Hermione to their seats. "Now…who's ready for breakfast? I've made eggs."