I've been in Bulgaria the past week and can I just say how beautiful Sofia is. I love it so much, the people are so welcoming and the museums are so lovely. So, shoutout to Bulgaria for being such an incredible country.
Chapter Two: Orpheus
They say that when you fall down, you should pick yourself up again. But what if you shattered into a million shards? What happens then? It would take more than just a day, a week, a month to glue yourself back together because as you stick the fragments one-by-one, you relive each memory all over again. And it hurts occasionally, some memories are sharper, more painful than others. They are never bad enough to break that shard into another million pieces, nor are they good enough to simply glue back together. They are somewhere in between. Somewhere where white noise exists.
And that's all that Draco heard as he apparated himself out of London, white noise. He vanished out of Hogwarts and as he did, he felt his bones disintegrate into his flesh; he was no longer himself anymore. He was simply no longer the Draco that had sided with the wrong side to impress his father. Now, he was just Draco with skin, a beating heart, functioning organs, but with no humanity left.
Draco stumbled to the ground, unfamiliar with his surroundings. He gathered that he had apparated to an alleyway in Russia. He knew this because the last time he came here, he'd managed to learn the Russian alphabet. Россия was the Russian translation for Russia itself, and it was also printed on a wooden sign at down the alleyway. Draco rushed towards it, searching for Blaise who ended up bumping into multiple Russian folks along the way before he made his way towards his peroxide-haired friend.
"What now?" he asked Draco.
The Dark Lord had ordered them to return in three days with Granger's wand as a souvenir. Neither of them had any idea what happened to the wands. They had always wondered if Voldemort had been developing a plan to make his Elder Wand just that bit more powerful.
They exited the alley and began the hunt for Granger by first observing the people around them. It was crucial that they knew how to blend in as tourists, that's what made them Voldemort's best hunters.
Draco murmured, "I don't know but the last siting of magic was in" – he pulled out a miniature paper from his pocket and unfolded it – "the Mamayev Hill Monuments."
"Where's that?"
Around them was noise, and bright lights, and music, and people. There were countless tourists crossing the streets, stopping to take pictures, and arguing about where they were on a map that was probably useless. The tourism made sense to Draco. He managed to obtain, from listening, that tourists who visited this city were mainly here to witness the many monuments and industrial areas. Volgograd, after all, was a manufacturing city mainly known for the Tomb of the Unknown soldiers during World War II.
All around them were monuments that marked where the Soviet army defeated Hitler's troops on the Eastern Front during the 1930's – 40's. It was a bloody battle that cost millions of lives but Russia took pride in her victory. They were proud of their country even though the western world had been against them for their policy of communism. They fought through the Russian revolution with poise and, Draco thought, if an entire country with a population of 109.3 million could survive such a brutal history, then so could he. No matter how bad the Dark Lord made life seem, he could get through it. He would.
He pointed his head in the direction of the colossal monument named 'Mother Russia'. It overlooked the entire city of Stalingrad and was as tall as the Eiffel tower. "I assume it's over there."
"You take the monuments and I'll go underground to the metro."
Blaise turned on his heel hurriedly and Draco frowned at this retreating form. He realised that Blaise had been relatively quiet ever since they found out their next target was Hermione Granger, but Draco did not want to make assumptions too quickly. Perhaps he knew that finding Granger was going to be difficult and finding her would likely take more than just three days. They knew that Granger was the most intelligent Witch of their year. She knew every nook and cranny of every book and therefore she probably knew exactly how to stay hidden from Death Eaters.
Draco clasped onto Zabini's wrist firmly.
"Where are you going? We're not separating," he said. His voice was cavernous, almost as if he were talking to himself in a hollow room and his voice bounced off the walls.
"If we don't separate, how do you expect to find Granger? The city is big," Blaise protested and slowly, Draco released his firm grip. Blaise punched his friend jokingly on the shoulder and plastered on a weak, but reassuring smile.
"I'll be careful," he promised.
Greek Myths are quite comical to read. You don't really expect things to happen the way they do, but then you are surprised. For example, Athena springing out of Zeus' head or Hera throwing Hephaestus off Mount Olympus because of his ugliness. You question whether it really happened or whether the Greek Gods were even real. Nobody knows. I suppose they are just stories we tell children for their amusement or to scare them into eating their vegetables.
There is a Greek myth about everything. Love, anger, jealousy, strife, power, betrayal, you name it. Most myths about love are normally tragic. Take the Greek myth about Orpheus. He was a musician, married to the shepherdess Eurydice. They were young and deep in love. Their love was so deep that when Eurydice was killed by snakes, Orpheus ventured to the Underworld to ask the God of the Underworld, Hades, to return her back to him. Before he entered, he had to find a way to get past Cerberus, the three-headed guard dog of Hades. Orpheus played the beast a song that sent him to a slumber and he eventually faced the God of the Underworld himself. When Hades heard about Orpheus' plea he agreed to give him his wife by allowing her to follow him as they walked back up to Earth, on the condition that he did not look back to check if she was still there. So Orpheus agreed, but the closer he got to Earth, the more doubtful he got that Eurydice was actually following him. And, when the doubt got the better of him, he looked back and Eurydice was dragged back to Hades, never to return.
How awful would it feel to go on a quest only to return the same way you entered? It is tragic, yes, but what if you were the bad guy in the quest? What if you were Hades: cold, and heartless, and cruel. Maybe you lost someone too young and the only way you can deal with it is to inflict pain on others, whether it be emotional or physical. Perhaps Hades felt isolated by his brothers and so wanted to see people suffer. Maybe that was his way of dealing with his loneliness. He wanted to see his brothers suffer too.
Draco was Hades in that moment. Only he wasn't in perdition, he was in Russia. And he wasn't trying to capture a bride, but murder. There was no sunlight seeping through the curtains for Draco. There were no positive thoughts that swirled in his heads like the winds of Jupiter. There was nothing.
Draco's way to deal with his loneliness was to kill Muggle-borns, and to sleep, and to randomly wake up in the middle of the night and wash his face.
The water trickled from his chin like moist, crimson blood gliding down the surface of his skin. He wiped it away with the hotel towel. It had been a couple hours since he last saw Blaise, and he was beginning to get concerned. A little exasperated too. It was getting darker than before too, not a good sign.
He dropped his weight into the empty chair and sighed. He ran a hand over his damp face, and when he open his eyes again, a shimmering light appeared just a few metres from him. All of a sudden, there was a loud crack, like a whip vigorously pecked the skin of an animal. The familiar dark-skinned, lean and slouched physique that belonged to Blaise was standing in front of him.
Blaise's eyes scanned the room before they fell on Draco's. "Figured I'd find you here," Blaise said as he lifted the hand that was clutching onto a pack of beer. "Muggle beer, I'm afraid." He placed it on the table before launching a can to his best friend.
Draco opened it distastefully, his nose wrinkling. "How did you know I was here?" he asked, taking a sip of it.
The liquid kissed his taste buds before they slithered down his throat and plummeted into his stomach. The taste was awful, but at least it was cold. He needed something to distract him for a while before they had to go searching for Granger again. They had two days left and Draco hated to admit it, but she was clever. For some peculiar reason, he suddenly remembered the way a vein throbbed at the top of her forehead whenever he labelled her a Mudblood.
The sound of popping and sizzling interrupted Draco from his flashback.
"I saw you come in to this awful place about an hour ago before I stopped by some Muggle shop to buy these," Blaise answered. He raised his beer before taking another sip.
"You found anything then?"
"I did actually." Blaise fell heavily into the chair facing Draco. "Granger's living in a tent in the woods at the edge of the city."
"Well what are we doing here then?"
"Really? You'd rather kill Granger than have a beer with your best mate?" Blaise teased.
He was obviously drunk, so Draco sighed and tilted his head back.
"I could use a good laugh, Zabini," Draco hinted, referring to Blaise's witty jokes.
He snorted and gulped down the toxic liquid swimming in his can.
"Alright. Knock knock."
"Who's there?"
A smirk appears on Blaise's lips. "You know," he said.
"You Know Who?"
Blaise sniggered to himself just before he popped open another can. Draco rolled his eyes, but eventually he sneered too.
"That was the lamest of them all," he jokingly insulted.
He remembered just how pathetically witty his other jokes were. And then he remembered how innocent Blaise used to laugh when they were kids, when pursuing the role of the Death Eater was not the most important thing. When insulting Potter was funnier than trying to kill him.
He never thought he'd miss Potter's absence, but he did. Draco missed the way they could fling insults and spells at each other. He missed it all, he'd just never admit it out loud. Potter was dead anyway, and he was humbled.
The duo passed time drinking, laughing, and reminiscing their times with Theo. Pansy never crossed their minds and that was mostly intentional. They didn't want to divert the idea that Pansy was dead, that somehow, when she had fallen off the radar, something awful had happened to her. They both didn't want to confess how alone they felt, so they hid it behind selective memories of Theo. Theo had wanted nothing to do with Voldemort and his malicious plan, and neither did Goyle. They both had wanted to live somewhere far away, decrease their risk of getting murdered by the Dark Lord himself. Which they had so far managed to do quite well.
Blaise drank up the last can. He looked up at the clock and realised it was past four in the morning.
"Get some sleep Malfoy. I'll find Granger and bring her back here," he said.
"Why do you always get all the fun?" Draco set his drink down.
"What are you talking about? You get to kill 'em!"
"The chase is better than the killing, Zabini," Draco argued. "Remember Ted Tonks?"
Blaise snorted but then he abruptly stopped. "Scotland screamer?" Draco nodded proudly and then Blaise laughed out loud. "Handful that one. Felt like I was running a mile."
"And Donaghan Tremlett?" A smirk arose on the corners of Draco's lips and Blaise laughed uncontrollably.
"I didn't think he would run so fast but fucking hell!"
Draco laughed and then so did Blaise. They sighed simultaneously and stared at each other for a brief moment. Their short moment of laughter died down almost as quick as Bellatrix put the fire out in the hearth. They had been intoxicating themselves hoping that it would help them stop feeling guilty but it appeared that alcohol didn't seem to affect Draco as much as it did to Blaise.
Blaise rolled his head back. "How is that we ended up being murderous assassins for the bald cunt we call our superior?"
"I don't know."
"I should be in France with some lass, shagging her brains out, not here."
Blaise's words hit Draco like a train. He felt even guiltier now. The reason Blaise was not out there in France, messing up his bed with a girl he likes, was because of him. He had been the one to force his best friend to adjust to the murderer lifestyle.
Draco sighed the shamefaced thoughts away before he stood up, his head pounded like bells on a clock tower. He was beginning to get dizzy, but he knew he wasn't light headed. He was still sober enough to familiarise that he was in Russia, on the hunt for Hermione Granger, who was hiding out in the woods.
"How about you get some sleep and I'll go look for Granger," he advised. "Besides you're a little too pissed."
"Sod off Malfoy," Blaise replied mockingly, his eyes were beginning to close so Draco lifted him from his seat and shifted him onto the bed.
Draco rubbed his eyes and grunted as he stretched out his body. The tension had escaped his muscles. He exited the room but took a quick glance at his companion.
Goyle opened the door as Draco and Theo rushed inside, panting heavily. From the couch Blaise jerked his head and rose up from his seat, a look of worry drowned his eyes.
"Malfoy, what the hell happened?" Blaise asked.
"That sodding Mudblood happened!" Draco answered.
"What did she do now?"
A feeling of humiliation engulfed Draco's body and so he shot Blaise a disgusted look. "It doesn't matter."
"Malfoy –"
"I said it doesn't fucking matter, alright?!"
"He got punched by Hermione," Theo deliberately said and Draco closed his eyes, agitated that he had allowed his friend to humiliate him even further.
"I did not!" Draco argued defensively and Blaise quietly chortled. "What are you laughing about? It's not that funny."
And then the empty common room ruptured into a harmony of laughter. Theo, Blaise and Goyle were laughing, at him. Even though he was being mocked he didn't want to forget this moment because Draco had never seen his friends look so alive.
"It was!" Blaise said through a laugh. "And you know what they say about girls being mean to boys." A smirk crept on his face.
"No I don't."
"It means she likes you," Theo teased and the common room erupted into boisterous laughter once more.
Draco huffed out his nose. The brief memory was mildly amusing but at least he still had memories of Blaise's innocence. With a small smile he closed the door.
"Do you know where the bloody woods are?!"
Draco was frustrated now. He wanted to get to Granger fast so he could return home and get some sleep. But asking a Russian townsfolk for directions was easier said than done. Especially since the one he was talking to was older than 45.
"Wood?" the woman reiterated and Draco nodded.
"Yes. Do – you – know – where – that – is?"
The woman had bags under her eyes. There was twitch in her eye and Draco felt rather irritated by it.
There was also an ominous feeling swirling in the deep pits of his stomach. Something awful was going to happen. He didn't know what, and this petrified him the most. He hated not knowing what was happening.
The sun was starting to peer out from behind the murky clouds. They were the colour of vapour, grey and dismal. The one thing that Draco wasn't unsure about was the fact that the day was going to drag. It was just inevitable.
"Ah. Wood is that –" She pointed a rotund finger to her far left. "– way."
"Thank you."
Draco immediately dashed away, heading straight towards the woods, dodging every branch he could that got in his way. He ran until his legs could no longer carry him any further. They ached, and so did the rest of his body. There was the feeling of an anchor hauling him into the dark abyss of the ocean where the pressure was just too much. His head pounded from the toxins he had agreeably swallowed earlier.
But then the thought of Blaise eased his ache a little. He remembered his memory of their third year together. The teasing he constantly received from him whenever one of the Slytherin girls that he liked walked past. He tried to keep this reminiscence fresh in his mind to stop himself from feeling remorseful. He knew he couldn't feel if he wanted to get the job done. He had to turn his humanity off and Draco used Blaise as leverage to help him do this.
There was a humming of birds, a chorus of rustling trees as the wind kissed the branches. Some leaves fell to the ground like snowflakes pirouetting elegantly across the air. So vividly enthralling to witness.
All at once, there was an echo of an interrupted breeze. Like something had flown across the sky as fast as lightning. A luminous stripe of a pastel indigo dye exploded from a couple feet away and drew Draco's attention. He ran, but discreetly.
He tried to keep his footsteps subtle and unnoticeable as possible, but the brief crunch of leaves sent a quick head to turn and the lips that belonged to it cast Reducto. The opponent was quick, but not quick enough to injure Draco. He counteracted the spell with a flick of his wand and before he knew it, his legs were burning with the ache again. They were following the mysterious opponent and gladly, the person was not faster than Draco.
"Stupefy!" he shouted, but his aim was poor. He missed. He grunted in frustration. "Sectumsempra!" Missed again.
Draco's hearing was appalling, but he was positive that he could hear more than two people running. Leaves were chomping at random and it wasn't rhythmic like a standard sprinting tread. It was all over the place, kind of like Draco right now. With his head still muddled from the alcohol, he felt unbalanced with everything.
"Wait stop!" the person he was chasing shouted.
Draco halted immediately, he cursed his legs for doing so. "Who are you?" he asked through his gritted teeth.
The anonymous strangers appeared to both be girls. Both had their hoods up, blocking, and shading their faces from sight.
One was holding the other hostage.
"You kill me and I kill her."
"Draco…"
"Be quiet!"
That voice did not sound familiar. It did not sound the slightest bit reassuring either. The people concealed behind those hoods knew who he was but he did not who they were. That too, petrified him.
"Who – are – you?"
The one holding the other hostage gradually slid her hood down.
From beneath sprung a soft brown curl, followed by another, and then two beaming russet orbs were glowering at him. A calculating expression spread across her face and Draco felt repugnance dissolve in the blood inside his veins. His palms began to sweat with revulsion and antipathy as he glowered at the filthy Mudblood with neurotic eyes.
"I don't want to hurt her Malfoy," the voice of Hermione Granger breathed out. "Let me go and I'll let her go."
"You? Hermione Granger? You wouldn't hurt a fly if you saw one!"
"I'll kill her." Her voice was sharp, poised, and very positive that she was going to kill. "I will kill her."
Draco scoffed, his wand aimed at her sturdily. "You're bluffing."
She pulled down her hostage's hood and the face that he didn't want to see the most was staring back at him. Her eyes drowning in water as a tear streamed down her squalid face. Big, bright auburn eyes were staring into his soul like electricity passing through an idle body. He was sure he was slowly drowning inside but he didn't even want to try and swim. His feet were immobilised. He wanted to cast a spell and wrench her out of Granger's grasp but his hands only quivered. Why wasn't he doing anything?
"Does it look like I'm bluffing?" Granger's nostrils flared agitatedly. "Believe me, four years on the run is enough time to change a person. I've killed a lot of people to stay alive and I've lost more than I count, so don't miscalculate me, Malfoy, or so help me God, I will kill her."
"Let her go, Granger." Draco's voice was solemn, pecking the rims of a monotone.
"Only if you swear to let me run."
Draco shook his head. "I can't do that. He'll kill me and he'll kill Blaise and he'll kill you."
"Then run. Nobody has to know."
"Why? Why should I let you go?" he pressed resolutely. "You're nothing but a filthy Mudblood."
"I need to find my family. I'm tired of running, Draco. Please, I am begging you," she pleaded.
"Draco just say yes," Pansy said through an exhale of breath. "Just say yes."
And through her words he could hear his father's. The same demanding tone and scratchy exterior that nipped at the back of throat. The same pain of trying to amend his decisions just to impress his father. It wasn't a pleasant memory. He thought he could try and relive it but the thought of his father sent a quivering shake that caressed his spine softly.
"It's a life for a life, Malfoy," Granger said.
His hand trembled obstinately. What could he possibly say or do to make sure he had done his job and managed to obtain Pansy at the same time? He could promise that he'd let her run and then chase her after he acquired Pansy. That way he'd be doing his job whilst saving Pansy.
"Alright, fine." The words unintentionally slipped out. His quavering hand lowered and Granger surprisingly and willingly released Pansy from her grasp.
There was never any mention from Blaise, or Theo, or Goyle about his feelings for Pansy. They had always been extremely close and intimate but neither of his friends questioned whether they really liked each other. Perhaps it was Pansy who was miraculous at acting or maybe it was Draco's authority that stopped the three from ever letting the question slither out.
She ran into his arms like a lost puppy, damaged and desperate for a home. But when he enveloped his arms around her, it didn't feel like her. At all. Her hair was different, it didn't smell of apples. Skin to skin pressed against each other, yet Draco could not feel electricity pass through his flesh, through his veins, and through his bones. There was nothing there. No burning desire to hug her, to kiss her, not even touch her. No feeling of him falling off the edge of reality.
She pulled away awkwardly and turned to face Granger. That's when Draco knew something dreadful was about to happen. He knew in that brief moment when Pansy and Granger exchanged looks that something was odd and something was unbalanced.
Granger turned on her heel, dashing away. She looked back over her shoulder, shouting, "Luna, run!"
Thank you Maleday for betaing my first chapter. I appreciate the help. I'll be sure to repost the improved one soon. I'll be updating this fic every Friday. I hope you enjoyed and I'm sorry for any mistakes that I've made. :) I'm honestly so lazy.
Jenna xoxo
