Chapter One – The Escape

(Not Draco's POV yet… you'll have to wait until chapter two)

A/N: Hi there! This is one of a number of stories I've had going for a while now but haven't had the guts to publish, and now I'm just slowly putting everything I have up... This is the first proper fanfiction I started and I have put a fair bit of effort into this but the middle is still a bit hazy...

Please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts and/or suggestions :)

Thanks to my beta IJuggler for all your help!

This first chapter is more of an epilogue so the following chapters will be about twice as long, probably a lot more actually... Anyways, I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: The following story is based on the excellent works of J.K. Rowling, they are not mine. Not including the characters you don't recognise, which are mine.

Also: Being Australian, I may have a few spelling variations to what you may or may not be used to, just skim over them and try not to let them get to you. But let me know if you think there's something wrong :)

...

Lightning cracked across the sky. On the top of a cliff overlooking the choppy waves of Pembroke Inlet, a small cottage braved the weather. As the rain began to pour down in earnest, a gaunt-looking man threw open the front door. The wind tried in vain to push him back in, and he struggled to hold onto a porch post as his vision was blocked by his long dark hair as it wrapped around his face.

There was a quick flourish of his hand and whatever he held within it, and the offending hairs were immediately pulled out of his face by an invisible force. Another flick and the gate to the front garden, which had been on the verge of breaking as it had been banging back and forth at the mercy of the wind, was pushed and held back in place. The man then made some complicated moves with his hands, and the lawn decorations that were being thrown about were magicked to a box that appeared out of nowhere, which then levitated itself into the cottage once it was full.

The man looked satisfied, but fear remained etched across his face as he looked out across the inlet and up towards the thunderous clouds blanketing the sky. Another strong gust of wind, and the man almost lost his grip on the post. His weary eyes scanned the hills around the cottage before he headed back inside.

In a small study within the cottage, a beautiful woman sat on a plush sofa alongside a small boy. She wore smart, velvet-coloured robes, with a black shirt and trousers visible underneath, and her feet were bare, oblivious to the chilly weather outside. Her hair was a soft blonde, with natural curls that had been brushed into perfect waves that trailed down her back. Beside her, the boy wore simple yet elegant blue pyjamas, and his dark curls framed his laughing face as he watched a cushion fly around the room, carrying some of his toys that managed to stay on even when the cushion looped around the lamps and furniture.

The woman's hand followed the cushion, making complicated movements which caused the cushion to do flips and whirls. She directed the cushion into a landing on the boy's lap as the man entered. The boy clapped and giggled, screaming nonsense in his delight, and demanding more of the cushion by prodding and pulling at it, then he watched in horror as one of the toys, free from his mother's control, lost its balance and fell off. He carefully put the cushion and remaining passengers beside him on the sofa, then climbed off to pick up the offending toy and scolded it, before placing it carefully in the front row for the next ride. He turned to plead to his mother, but she wasn't beside him anymore.

"Sal?" the woman began, rising to meet him. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm not sure," Sal replied, "but something is definitely wrong with the storm outside. I think they might have something to do with this."

"But why?" the woman asked, her face a mixture of worry and apprehension.

"I don't know." Sal became more agitated by the minute, running his hand through his unmatted hair. "I know there are nicer ways of going about this, about what I believe is the right way for us all, but my point is justified nonetheless. They seem more than happy to welcome in anyone with even the slightest bit of magic, regardless of parentage."

"Maybe they are just as afraid as us," she reasoned. "Maybe they want to help more wizards and witches control their powers to aid our battle for survival? What's the worst that could happen from a simple school? It isn't readily known to be a school of magic, just a prestigious boarding school for the higher classes and intellects of the kingdom."

"We are all going to burn for it," Sal argued. "What if word gets out? The priests will be storming the entire land for the school – and then what? Plead for them to understand the goodness and so forth as Ro always says?"

"That's not the only way to–"

"Or take up arms and die for what we believe in? Rick is a poor excuse of a man. If he, too, had a family, perhaps he would be wiser when planning to place himself and others into such risks."

"Honey, everyone wants to fix this, but there are so many ways to –"

"No, Beth!" Sal's voice rose, and the bubbly boy on the couch went silent. Sal noticed and ran his hair through his hair again, sighing. "We are all at risk because of their stupid ideas of living in peace with Muggles. It won't happen. It can't. Why am I the only one to see this?"

Beth remained quiet, for the sake of her child who was in the process of wrapping himself around her ankles for comfort from Sal's anger. She gave Sal a look full of sadness and pity.

"We cannot keep going on like this," she said as she picked up her son and gently rocked him back and forth to soothe him. "We have children to think about. I think it's time we acted upon Luc's idea. We can escape. And we will all be safe."

"I am not a coward," Sal said menacingly. "I am not going to run away, let alone fake my own death just so that Malfoy–" he spat the name out in disgust "–can take my place. The man's a coward; he's only concerned about his own bloodline. His son Armand is just as–"

"He means well," Beth interrupted, "and you know he does. Yes, there is an advantage for him if we disappear; he will be the strongest of all our pureblood families with you gone, Sal, but what about us? What about living? What about your children?"

"That is a choice I refuse to make," Sal replied coolly. "My life's work is here, within that castle. And with you and the children. I want both. Forever."

Beth stared.

"If you don't choose soon," she warned, "They will for you."

Sal looked down, regret crossing his features.

"I know."

Beth moved to hold him, to comfort him in some way, but was held in place by the little boy, who was now asleep resting against her.

"Sal?" Beth said quietly. "A little help?"

Sal looked up from his thoughts, and noticed Beth looking down at her son, a smile playing on her lips.

"That boy will never cease to amaze me," he said, all tension from the room gone. He moved forward and gently collected his son in his arms. "Where do you want him? In his brother's bed?"

Beth laughed. "No, I think Henry is already asleep, he won't be too pleased if you wake him now. And before you ask, Charlotte is, too. She was tired after her swim this afternoon."

"She was out there in this?" he said incredulously, gesturing to the storm outside which had shown no intentions of slowing down since he'd last walked outside.

"No, she came up just before it started. She felt it just like you." She gave her husband a meaningful look.

"It's not my fault," Sal defended, "Charlotte is at the castle too much. And she loves the tunnels I made for her. She goes down there all the time to talk with that snake. The others keep asking what she's up to, and because she won't answer they've taken to calling it the Chamber of Secrets. I haven't the faintest idea how it's any of their business to begin with, though. Miss Smarts and Mr. Brave Deeds have entire towers to themselves. Daydreamer probably has somewhere secluded, too, though what a waste of space and concealing magic that would be." He shook his head as he bent to pick up the little boy and held him to his chest.

Beth moved to stretch her legs, and then came over to hold her husband and son. "I have a good feeling about this little boy. Who would have thought we'd have a second son? He's put an end to your family's curse."

"Just in time for another one if we go with Malfoy's plan," Sal said through gritted teeth.

"Hush now," Beth scolded. "You'll wake the poor child."

"This one?" Sal said, a smile playing across his strained features. "He can sleep through anything."

"Well, let's not test your theory. Come, bring him to bed," she instructed, and Sal followed as she led him down the hall to a door with Marcus written across it in elegant red script.