XX HARRY POTTER & THE GRINDELWALD PROPHECIES XX

2.

The Empty Corpse

As Draco Malfoy was leaving The Ministry of Magic to go to work, he kept feeling for the crinkled piece of paper in his pocket. Reassuring himself, that it was still safely secure in his pocket. He felt like, if he didn't check for it every few minutes, the piece of paper would disappear.

"Ferret problem." Draco snickered underneath his breath, he had thought about that incident in years...He was nostalgically amused. That had seemed like a whole other lifetime. He was an entirely different person then. Before the curse of Fenrir Greyback. Malfoy gave a small growl and clenched his fists.

Curse that Greyback!

"What would Father say about this?!" Draco amusing said aloud, his top lip curling.

It's not like I ever told Father anything. Despite, how many times I threatened.

Draco had not talked to Lucius for years; and on the off chance that they did talk, they bickered. They would quarrel about the importance of being a 'pureblood' and how disappointed Lucius was that Draco's blood was spoiled - how he could be considered a 'dirty, veil mud-blood like that Granger.' This always made Draco's blood boil. It almost seemed nasty, when other people called her that. He deeply fought with himself about that day he had called Hermione a mud-blood during their second year at Hogwarts.

He had been a fowl, nasty, privileged, spoiled prat!

Draco Malfoy had married Astoria Greengrass in hopes to please his father. At least she came from a long line of respected 'Purebloods' and surely this would please Lucius on one level or another. Or so he had thought. In fact, it had not been enough! Draco and his mother Narcissa would meet up, every few months, and each order a cup of Butterbeer and discuss family matters. She would ask about Scorpius.

"Good mornin' Mr. Malfoy, how are ye doin'?" Elizabeth Blithe, Draco's assistant, asked when he came through the front door of the small building, "Do you fancy a spot of tea?"

"Morning Eliza. No - No, Not this morning. I've got business." Draco said. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment and opened the door to his room. He shut it gently behind him and made his way over to his desk. He sat down in his chair and grabbed for some manuscript's he he was looking over from yesterday. It wasn't long before he lost interest.

Draco reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the small piece of paper. For a few minutes he just stared at the crinkled, folded piece of parchment. He smoothed the paper out before unfolding it. He gulped and re-straightened his tie feeling unbearably nervous. He cautiously looked left and right over his shoulder, he felt like a pair of eyes were watching him. Even though nobody was there. With shaking, sweaty hands he carefully unfolded the paper.

Hermione Weasley

435-6542

"Damn that Weaselbee!" Draco said and held the piece of paper with Hermione's hand writing on it. He cringed in his seat. Draco was unsure if his uneasiness was the fact that Hermione had given him a chance or that the full moon was coming up. Either way, he fidget in his seat restless and aggravated. He clenched his hands into fists.

What am I doing?! I can't be forgiven by Hermione, nor should I talk to her. She has that damn, red-headed lollygaggin' baphoon. She's happy with that - No, Draco, calm down.

Draco ran his hands through his blond hair. Then rested them on his neck. Controlling himself and his anger was harder when the full moon was due.

Hermione looked at the small dwarf leading her through the corridor.

"Horrible, horrible news Mrs. Weasley." The dwarf sobbed, "don't open the letter yet! Just wait till we get there." The little dwaf wiped away streaming tears.

Hermione's heart sunk in her chest, it squeezed within her chest. She had a bad, ominous feeling that this could very well do with Ron. The past few months he had suffered from severe drinking, after his mother and father had passed away he had kind of lost it. He was fired from his last job and Harry wasn't talking to him at the moment. Hermione didn't know why, Harry wouldn't tell her. Just that it was bad. Whenever they fought it was bad. She trembled and tried to keep an elegant air.

Why did I give Malfoy my number, that was soooo stupid!

"Mrs. Weasley, did you hear me?" The dwaf said tugging on her arm.

"Oh, no... I was distracted. What did you say?" She asked. They now entered the Hearing room. The room was full of witches and wizards of the Ministry. Hermione spotted Ron and excused herself from Grindlebeard the Dwarf who was still in a fit of silent but hysterical tears. Her heart stopped aching when she reached Ron.

"I thought, maybe something bad might have happened to you." She sat down next to him and squeezed his hand tightly. She felt tears swelling in her eyes, but she brushed them away before anybody noticed.

"Nothing is going to happen to me." Ron said with a smug grin.

"What is going on?" Hermione said, "I got this letter. Grindlebeard gave it to me." Hermione whispered as wizards and witches took seats.

"I don't know. We all got one. I don't think any of us have opened them yet. They only have our names on the front... doesn't say who they're from... I reckon' it ain't good." Ron squeezed Hermione's hand in his.

"If you would all sit and be silent." The Prime Minister Bartemius Wood bellowed. His deep, stern voice filled with concern. It was only mere moments for everyone to be seated and silently waiting. Letters in hand.

"It is of the gravest, sorrow that I have called you hear... and, might I say... horribly terrifying... in your hands... you all have a letter. If you could please, now, open that letter." Bartemius Wood said.

Hermione did not like the gut-feeling she had. It truly had been quiet for too long.

She opened her letter next to Ron. A few seconds letter, she heard the shrill of witches and the gasping of wizards.

Ginny Potter is dead. Harry Potter has gone missing. The only thing Aura's have found is The Grindelwald Symbol.

Ron turned to Hermione. He looked like he was going to cry but nothing came out. He just fell into her arms. Hermione was as shocked as him. She reread the letter, unable to believe what she read. Ginny couldn't be dead, Harry couldn't be missing.

But, darkness has a way of creeping in, when thing's are silent for too long. She finally cried. Her tear's streaked down her face, hot and salty. Ron whimpered into her shoulder, squeezing onto her shirt.

"I am so sorry Ron." She sobbed.

Following the cries, the gasps, were outraged yells. Everyone talked over one another.

"SILENCE!" Bartemius yelled.

The Hearing Room fell silent, apart from the silent of Ron and a few other sniffing, sobbing Wizards and Witches.

"The Ministry of Magic is seeking for the culprit's, as of now, we are unsure of who or what is behind this horrible deed. But, we need your help! We cannot succumb to another dark one or dark age! We simply cannot!"

"Hermione..." Ron whimpered.

"Yes?"

"Hermione... we destroyed the glass prophecies..." Ron said in terror.

"What?" What sort of a thing was that to say in a time like this!

It had been nearly two decades since The Dementor's Kiss had emptied Bartiemius Crouch Jr.'s body of his soul. It trapped away, drifting in the empty space, screaming, in the eternal void of darkness of a Dementor. The closest thing to hell's damnation.

To live in torment for forever. Meanwhile, his soul-less, lifeless carcass, sitting upright in a chair rotting away at this very moment!

The smell of putrid death heavily stank the cold room and despite the godawful stench, there where two figures standing, starring at the corpse of Bartiemius Crouch Jr. Not in the least bothered by the rot.

"Hmm, Demented Jr. here, wasn't my first choice Puppet. But, he will do. He's mad enough!" The first figure said, shroud in a cloak, "Beggars' can't be choosers, can they Puppet?!"

"Puppet tried to move the other bodies. Honest he did, but they all fell apart." The second figure, a house elf cried. He had indeed tried to move the other "empties" but, this one was the only one that didn't fall to ashes, the only one's who body parts didn't crack or disarm when moved. He had spent hours trying to search for the one she wanted, but, in The Graveyard of Empties, he had been the chosen one.

"Move the Vegetable Puppet!"

"It has to be done today!" A ominous voice lashed from underneath the hood of the black cloak, "-and don't let any of the pieces fall off him like the other veggies Puppet!"

"Yes. I ain't gunna let that happen!" The creepy, hunched over Puppet said. He craned his neck, "No mistakes this time. I promise! Puppet always keeps his promises. Doesn't he?!" The elf named Puppet said. He rubbed his cracked, aged hands together and kissed the hand of a cloaked figure, that just coughed in disgust. Then the shroud figure left the room in haste.

"Puppet never breaks a promise. No. No, Puppet could never break a promise." The elf moved over to the decrepit body of Bartiemius Crouch Jr. and attempted to move the empty corpse without any of it's appendages falling to dust.

Draco Malfoy sat fidgeting in his seat. From his desk, he took out some recent alchemical manuscripts he was studying, The Moonshire Dubree - the lost chronical's of natural reincarnation of a lost soul, during the event of the solstice of winter's end. It was utterly impossible to understand, and more then half of it was written in ancient magic runes lost in time.

It proved challenging and this was what Draco enjoyed most. A challenge. A challenge to duel. A challenge of wits...If it wasn't challenging him, it wasn't good enough.

Just like Hermione did back in school, she challenged me, and I accepted. I accepted with prejudice, and she challenged me with pride.

Distracting himself from starring at Hermione's number, was harder then he anticipated. Finally, in a fit of fury he tucked it away in his desk drawer. Where his wandering eyes couldn't end up looking at it. Unfortunately, this only made him think of her more. Had he been denying his feelings for her for so long, that finally it was driving him mad?! Or was it just the full moon...

"Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Malfoy!" Elizabeth cried from outside his shut door.

"Great..." Malfoy sighed, "Come in then Elizabeth. Don't be making a fuss outside my -" Before he could finish his sentence, Elizabeth barged in, teary-eyed and red-nosed. She was almost at the point of hysterical cries.

"What in the name of pete's sake are you crying about?!" Draco said. Unable to stand the fit of tears Ms. Blithe was in. Comforting a crying women wasn't one of his strengths. Instead, he always went to rude remarks or felt strangely awkward.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"You can just call me Draco. I've told you this. Calling me Mr. Malfoy reminds me of my-"

"There's been murder!" Elizabeth cried out, she sniffled and blew her runny nose into her handkerchief, "Ginny Potter has been murdered!"

"What?!" Draco said.

This has to be some kind of joke!

"That's not all sir, Harry Potter is missin'!"

Draco didn't know what to say. It's not like he ever really liked Potter. Harry had turned down his seclusive invitation to be friends during the first year at Hogwarts... but, then again... Harry had come back for him in The Room of Requirement as it was burning.

"At the scene of the crime was The Grindelwald Symbol..." Elizabeth cried, "They want you to look at it."

"Me?!" Draco choked, "Me? I don't know anything about it. Why me?" Draco cried. He found it hard to believe. His hands shook in aggravation and confusion.

It's not like I sympathize with the Weasleys, I never have. I've always thought shallowly of them...

"How did she die?" Draco snapped himself out of his thoughts, "How did Mrs. Potter die?"

"I don't know sir, no one knows yet. This just happened, this very mornin' " Elizabeth cried.

"You know what Ms. Blithe, pack up your stuff and go home for the day. Have a few days off, to collect yourself. I'll take care of everything else."

"Aren't ye upset sir?!" Ms. Blithe cried through uncontrollable sobs.

"I"m not the kind to get upset anymore, Ms. Blithe. It is troubling news..." He sighed shooing Ms. Blithe out of his room. He couldn't take another minute of her sobbing, or he was going to lose control and he didn't want to do that. His blood-broiled to much for him to cry.

Hermione was taking Ron to go say his final goodbye to Ginny. They were going to meet up with George too. George was closing down the shop and meeting them at Ron and Hermione's quaint little home.

Letter's were already sent out to Hogwarts for the children.

"What were you saying in The Hearing Room Ronald, something about the prophecies?" Hermione said. She was trying to distract Ronald from entering a state of shock. She petted his hair, his head resting in her lap.

Ron gulped, his eyes as red as his hair.

"Hermione. I can't remember. I don't want to talk right now." He said through pursed lips that quivered when he spoke. His voice cracked.

Hermione's eyes were sore and swollen too, but, she had to remain strong for Ron. Silent, salty tears strolled down her face. They plopped on Ronald's head and soaked up his hair, but he didn't seem to care or notice. How much death could one family take? It seemed like only yesterday his parents passed away. This was too soon. She thought about her parents, who didn't even know her anymore. This didn't help her silent tears.