Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. The song belongs to
Herbert Kretzmer.
A/N: Not many songs this time. There should be more songs in the next chapter. Once again, thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Trillian42. Thanks also to everyone who's reviewed so far. I do appreciate your thoughts. Oh, id anyone likes this story and would like me to e-mail them when the next chapter's up, say so in your review or send me an e-mail and I'll do so. Enjoy!
Chapter 6 - What Now?
Draco stared at Hermione, trying to think of something to say to break the uncomfortable silence between them. When he thought about, it she wasn't that bad-looking - "no, what are you thinking?! This is Granger we're talking about. Granger is not attractive!" But it wasn't the first time that Draco had thought this. He remembered back in their fourth year at Hogwarts at the Yule Ball. You probably could have knocked Draco over with a feather that night when Granger had entered the Hall. Her robes had been periwinkle blue and her hair, Draco remembered, had been sleeked down for the night and tied in a knot at the back of her head. That was also the year that Voldemort had been resurrected, Draco reminded himself
darkly. To distract himself from those thoughts, he looked at Hermione now. Her hair was still bushy but her face, which had once irked Draco with it's Holier-Than-Thou Smart Alec look, now seemed to bear wisdom beyond any books ever written. Her eyes, Draco now saw, were eyes that had seen death and suffering. Her eyes were of a mind that had experienced far too much suffering for it's years. Gone was the girl that had so annoyed Draco throughout his time at Hogwarts. In her place was a young woman whom Draco found that he admired and respected.
Hermione felt his eyes burning into her. "What?" She asked. Draco started slightly and for a moment seemed lost for words.
"Granger, do you remember the Yule Ball during our fourth year?" He asked, finally.
Hermione raised her eyebrows "Malfoy, I think I can remember that whole year. If I remember rightly, you told us that 'mudbloods and muggle-lovers' would be the first to go."
"I was right." Draco said.
"Yeah, you were. Which is exactly why I don't trust you."
"I'm not proud of my past, Granger. But we can't change the past. Does it mean anything that I'm trying to change now." Draco asked, taking hold of her hand across the table.
Hermione stared at his hand covering hers. "I don't know. Are you?"
Draco sighed. "Yes. I understand why you're less than trusting of me, but I'm not lying this time. When I came here last night and saw how much suffering there already is in the muggle world that it really hit me how horribly wrong what Voldemort is doing really is. He would tear this world - this time - apart. One person, at least, is already dead because of me. I don't want any more blood on my hands."
For the first time, Hermione saw Draco in a new light. His shoulders slumped as if he were carrying a great weight. His face seemed to Hermione to have prematurely aged several years, the eyes seemed full of suffering and confusion. And suddenly, all of her anger, her hatred and her suspicion of him seemed to disappear.
"You have no idea what it's like." Draco said, looking down at his hands, not wanting to look Hermione in the eye. "I don't want to see more innocent people suffering at Voldemort's hands and yet the thought that I've betrayed him makes me feel sick with guilt. It's not all about hating mud - muggle-borns and halfbloods, you see. Voldemort offered us power beyond any witch or wizard's wildest dreams. Anything we wanted, be it money, power, women - don't look like that, you know fine well that's what a lot of men would ask for," he said, glancing up and seeing Hermione's disgusted look. "Anything we wanted,
Voldemort gave us, on the condition that we follow him and do whatever he says. A lot of the Death Eaters can't stand what he does, but are too afraid to leave. If they did, they would almost certainly be killed. Some of them, my father included, really believe in the shit he spurts out, about how purebloods are the only wizards worthy of knowing magic and how anyone of muggle parentage or anyone 'in league with them had to be destroyed. Even I believed it." He hung his head, ashamed. "Even now the urge to turn you all over to
him is still there, at the back of my mind, tempting me."
For a moment neither of them spoke. "Well, at least you're being honest with me." Hermione said, at last. Draco smiled weakly. "And honest with yourself. You know where you weakness lies, Malfoy. You can change that. You've changed already, just by being here and confessing - to me, Hermione 'mudblood' Granger, of all people!" Draco winced at the reference to his nickname for her at school. "Because of you," Hermione continued, "we've got more of a fighting chance against Voldemort." Boldly, Hermione began to sing;
Hermione
#Red - the blood of angry men!
Black - the dark of ages past!
Red - a world about to dawn!
Black - the night that ends at last!#
Draco smiled. But he knew it wouldn't be as easy as that. Voldemort would still be there, inside his head. He inwardly cringed as he felt yet another stab of pain in his back as Voldemort tried to contact him. "I wish it was a simple as that, Granger. But he'll still be here" he said, tapping his head, to indicate where 'here' was. To prove his point, he began to sing, a mockery of Hermione's words;
Draco
#Red - I feel my soul on fire!
Black - my world if he's not there!
Red - the colour of desire!
Black - the colour of despair!#
"So you see," Draco said, gently placing his hand on Hermione's cheek - he hadn't realised that they were standing so close - "You'd be better off killing me now, before the temptation gets too strong." Hermione shook her head, taking his hand in hers. "I can't do that." She whispered.
"Why?" Draco asked. Confusion clouded Hermione's face. There was one question she didn't have an answer to. Draco began to lean towards her when the sound of Ron's voice from below made them jump apart , almost guiltily. Draco sat back down at the table an Hermione crossed to the window.
"We're back!" Ron called, thundering up the stairs.
"Whoop-de-doo." Draco muttered, darkly.
"Draco." Hermione said warningly. Draco shut up.
Ron's head appeared below them in the stairwell, followed by the rest of him. Oliver followed, wincing at the noise Ron was making clattering up the stairs. "Ron, no offence, mate, but do you really have to thunder up them stairs like a pet elephant?" He asked on entering the room. Harry and Ginny were last to enter. Harry stared coldly at Draco and sat down opposite him.
"What do you know about Voldemort?" was the first thing he said.
Draco raised his eyebrows sardonically. No matter what his situation, he wasn't going to give in to Potter that easily. "Say please."
"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands here, Malfoy." Harry said, his green eyes flashing dangerously.
Draco glanced from Harry, to Ron, to Oliver and licked his lips nervously. He didn't fancy getting into a fight with any of them as they looked as if they could all kill him without even trying. He may have had his wand and been trained in the Dark Arts, these guys were armed with more than just magic; they all had a knife attached to their belts - and they had muscle. Oliver in particular, who Draco remembered always being on the burly side, looked as though he could crush Draco's skull without even breaking a sweat. Obviously, living rough had had at least one good outcome. He looked back at Harry, who was still waiting for his answer.
"What happened to your glasses?"
Harry gritted his teeth and took a deep breath to calm himself down.
"Malfoy, just answer the question." Ron sighed. He could see that Harry and Oliver were beginning to lose patience with Malfoy already. Oliver's fists were tightly clenched at his sides and a muscle was beginning to twitch in Harry's jaw. Ginny went over and, sitting down next to Harry, took his hand. Harry glanced at her and visibly relaxed.
"Listen, Malfoy. I already know how you got here and why you came here in the first place. What I'm asking is, what else do you know about Voldemort. His whereabouts, for example, anything which could help us out." Harry said.
Draco sighed. "All I know is that he's got a whole bloody army. Death Eaters, vampires, dementors, you name it, he's got it." He cried out as a fresh wave of pain hit him.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side.
"Dark Mark," Draco said, as the pain eased off again. "He's beginning to get very insistent."
"It seems we've already lost," Oliver said despondently. "If Voldemort's got an army of vampires and dementors, what are we supposed to do?"
"We create an army of our own!" Ron exclaimed. "There are two hundred witches and wizards in Paris alone, who would be more than happy to fight against Voldemort. Most of them are gypsies like us, so there's more to them than just twiddling a wand and saying some choice words. And then there's the muggle gypsies at the Court of Miracles. They know about us, thanks to Fred and George's antics. They'll fight tooth and nail against Voldemort, whether we ask them to or not! So Voldemort's got dark magic and creatures on his side. We've got magic, strength and stamina on out side, not to mention loyalty. Half of
those Death Eaters'll turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble!"
The others stared at Ron in amazement. None of them had ever seen him like this. There was a mad gleam in his eye and all at once he seemed capable of leading an army of one thousand men to victory.
"First thing tomorrow, I'll go to the Court of Miracles and tell Fred and George what's happening. Then we'll address the whole Court. Tomorrow we'll attack and anyone who gets in our way will be killed." Ron continued, looking pointedly at Draco. "That includes your dad if the occasion calls for it, Malfoy."
"Unless..." Everyone looked at Hermione. "Unless you can somehow convince him to help us," she continued. "I mean, look at it this way. If we had someone who was right in Voldemort's circle on our side then we might stand a better chance. He might tell us something that we could use against Voldemort."
Draco shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Voldemort has got him totally taken in. It would take a miracle from heaven to change his mind."
"But you're his son! Surely that must mean something to him!" Hermione exclaimed.
Draco smiled sadly. "One time it would. He's too far gone now. When he finds out that I've betrayed Voldemort then I'll just become another name on his 'To Kill' list."
"Will you not even try?" Harry asked. His voice was a lot gentler now but there was still a glimmer of cold, grim determination in his eyes.
Draco, after several minutes thought, nodded resignedly. "I'll try. But not now. Not tonight. I'm just too tired."
"Aye, it's getting late, by the looks of things." Oliver said, glancing out at the rapidly darkening sky. "We'd best turn in early tonight as we're going to have a long day tomorrow."
***
"Wormtail, did you manage to locate young Malfoy?" Voldemort asked
Peter nodded. "I did, Lord." He said.
"Well? Has he found the boy yet?" Voldemort asked impatiently.
Again, Pettigrew nodded. "He has. But I wouldn't expect him to hand Potter over to you any time soon, my Lord. It seems young Draco has turned traitor." His eyes shifted over to where Lucius was standing as he said this. "I located him at the Notre-Dame cathedral and managed to listen in on his conversation with Potter's mudblood witch friend before Potter returned. He seems to be rather fond of her. If I may be so bold, I would say he's beginning to love her."
"No! Not my boy, not Draco! He wouldn't! He-"
"SILENCE!" Voldemort roared at him, cutting Lucius off mid-tirade. "So it is as I suspected. He obviously wasn't ready for this task. It's a shame, really, he would have made a good Death Eater when he was older, if we'd waited long enough." Voldemort continued thoughtfully.
"What do you mean, Lord?" Lucius asked. Then it dawned on him. "No. You can't, he's only a child!"
"A child who would see me dead!"
"Give him another chance, please! I can talk to him, make him see sense!" Lucius begged.
Voldemort turned on him then. "Do you not understand!? You son would see me, your Master, dead! Even if he did come back, who's to say he won't switch sides again? Who's to say he won't just be acting as a spy like that other traitor Severus Snape? Can you say that?" Lucius shook his head, whimpering slightly. Voldemort spoke again, his voice softer now. "I know this must be hard for you, but it must be done. Draco's loyalties are rapidly changing. You heard Wormtail! He is beginning to fall in love with Harry's mudblood witch friend as we speak."
"You mean that Granger girl?2 Lucius asked, his face a mask of revulsion.
Voldemort nodded. "The very one. Lucius, Draco is tainted. There is no way for him to come back now. And now, Lucius, is for the time for you to test your loyalties." Lucius stared up at him fearfully. "Lucius, Draco must die."
Lucius looked down and swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he looked up again. Slowly, he repeated his Master's words. "Draco must die."
A/N: Not many songs this time. There should be more songs in the next chapter. Once again, thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Trillian42. Thanks also to everyone who's reviewed so far. I do appreciate your thoughts. Oh, id anyone likes this story and would like me to e-mail them when the next chapter's up, say so in your review or send me an e-mail and I'll do so. Enjoy!
Chapter 6 - What Now?
Draco stared at Hermione, trying to think of something to say to break the uncomfortable silence between them. When he thought about, it she wasn't that bad-looking - "no, what are you thinking?! This is Granger we're talking about. Granger is not attractive!" But it wasn't the first time that Draco had thought this. He remembered back in their fourth year at Hogwarts at the Yule Ball. You probably could have knocked Draco over with a feather that night when Granger had entered the Hall. Her robes had been periwinkle blue and her hair, Draco remembered, had been sleeked down for the night and tied in a knot at the back of her head. That was also the year that Voldemort had been resurrected, Draco reminded himself
darkly. To distract himself from those thoughts, he looked at Hermione now. Her hair was still bushy but her face, which had once irked Draco with it's Holier-Than-Thou Smart Alec look, now seemed to bear wisdom beyond any books ever written. Her eyes, Draco now saw, were eyes that had seen death and suffering. Her eyes were of a mind that had experienced far too much suffering for it's years. Gone was the girl that had so annoyed Draco throughout his time at Hogwarts. In her place was a young woman whom Draco found that he admired and respected.
Hermione felt his eyes burning into her. "What?" She asked. Draco started slightly and for a moment seemed lost for words.
"Granger, do you remember the Yule Ball during our fourth year?" He asked, finally.
Hermione raised her eyebrows "Malfoy, I think I can remember that whole year. If I remember rightly, you told us that 'mudbloods and muggle-lovers' would be the first to go."
"I was right." Draco said.
"Yeah, you were. Which is exactly why I don't trust you."
"I'm not proud of my past, Granger. But we can't change the past. Does it mean anything that I'm trying to change now." Draco asked, taking hold of her hand across the table.
Hermione stared at his hand covering hers. "I don't know. Are you?"
Draco sighed. "Yes. I understand why you're less than trusting of me, but I'm not lying this time. When I came here last night and saw how much suffering there already is in the muggle world that it really hit me how horribly wrong what Voldemort is doing really is. He would tear this world - this time - apart. One person, at least, is already dead because of me. I don't want any more blood on my hands."
For the first time, Hermione saw Draco in a new light. His shoulders slumped as if he were carrying a great weight. His face seemed to Hermione to have prematurely aged several years, the eyes seemed full of suffering and confusion. And suddenly, all of her anger, her hatred and her suspicion of him seemed to disappear.
"You have no idea what it's like." Draco said, looking down at his hands, not wanting to look Hermione in the eye. "I don't want to see more innocent people suffering at Voldemort's hands and yet the thought that I've betrayed him makes me feel sick with guilt. It's not all about hating mud - muggle-borns and halfbloods, you see. Voldemort offered us power beyond any witch or wizard's wildest dreams. Anything we wanted, be it money, power, women - don't look like that, you know fine well that's what a lot of men would ask for," he said, glancing up and seeing Hermione's disgusted look. "Anything we wanted,
Voldemort gave us, on the condition that we follow him and do whatever he says. A lot of the Death Eaters can't stand what he does, but are too afraid to leave. If they did, they would almost certainly be killed. Some of them, my father included, really believe in the shit he spurts out, about how purebloods are the only wizards worthy of knowing magic and how anyone of muggle parentage or anyone 'in league with them had to be destroyed. Even I believed it." He hung his head, ashamed. "Even now the urge to turn you all over to
him is still there, at the back of my mind, tempting me."
For a moment neither of them spoke. "Well, at least you're being honest with me." Hermione said, at last. Draco smiled weakly. "And honest with yourself. You know where you weakness lies, Malfoy. You can change that. You've changed already, just by being here and confessing - to me, Hermione 'mudblood' Granger, of all people!" Draco winced at the reference to his nickname for her at school. "Because of you," Hermione continued, "we've got more of a fighting chance against Voldemort." Boldly, Hermione began to sing;
Hermione
#Red - the blood of angry men!
Black - the dark of ages past!
Red - a world about to dawn!
Black - the night that ends at last!#
Draco smiled. But he knew it wouldn't be as easy as that. Voldemort would still be there, inside his head. He inwardly cringed as he felt yet another stab of pain in his back as Voldemort tried to contact him. "I wish it was a simple as that, Granger. But he'll still be here" he said, tapping his head, to indicate where 'here' was. To prove his point, he began to sing, a mockery of Hermione's words;
Draco
#Red - I feel my soul on fire!
Black - my world if he's not there!
Red - the colour of desire!
Black - the colour of despair!#
"So you see," Draco said, gently placing his hand on Hermione's cheek - he hadn't realised that they were standing so close - "You'd be better off killing me now, before the temptation gets too strong." Hermione shook her head, taking his hand in hers. "I can't do that." She whispered.
"Why?" Draco asked. Confusion clouded Hermione's face. There was one question she didn't have an answer to. Draco began to lean towards her when the sound of Ron's voice from below made them jump apart , almost guiltily. Draco sat back down at the table an Hermione crossed to the window.
"We're back!" Ron called, thundering up the stairs.
"Whoop-de-doo." Draco muttered, darkly.
"Draco." Hermione said warningly. Draco shut up.
Ron's head appeared below them in the stairwell, followed by the rest of him. Oliver followed, wincing at the noise Ron was making clattering up the stairs. "Ron, no offence, mate, but do you really have to thunder up them stairs like a pet elephant?" He asked on entering the room. Harry and Ginny were last to enter. Harry stared coldly at Draco and sat down opposite him.
"What do you know about Voldemort?" was the first thing he said.
Draco raised his eyebrows sardonically. No matter what his situation, he wasn't going to give in to Potter that easily. "Say please."
"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands here, Malfoy." Harry said, his green eyes flashing dangerously.
Draco glanced from Harry, to Ron, to Oliver and licked his lips nervously. He didn't fancy getting into a fight with any of them as they looked as if they could all kill him without even trying. He may have had his wand and been trained in the Dark Arts, these guys were armed with more than just magic; they all had a knife attached to their belts - and they had muscle. Oliver in particular, who Draco remembered always being on the burly side, looked as though he could crush Draco's skull without even breaking a sweat. Obviously, living rough had had at least one good outcome. He looked back at Harry, who was still waiting for his answer.
"What happened to your glasses?"
Harry gritted his teeth and took a deep breath to calm himself down.
"Malfoy, just answer the question." Ron sighed. He could see that Harry and Oliver were beginning to lose patience with Malfoy already. Oliver's fists were tightly clenched at his sides and a muscle was beginning to twitch in Harry's jaw. Ginny went over and, sitting down next to Harry, took his hand. Harry glanced at her and visibly relaxed.
"Listen, Malfoy. I already know how you got here and why you came here in the first place. What I'm asking is, what else do you know about Voldemort. His whereabouts, for example, anything which could help us out." Harry said.
Draco sighed. "All I know is that he's got a whole bloody army. Death Eaters, vampires, dementors, you name it, he's got it." He cried out as a fresh wave of pain hit him.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side.
"Dark Mark," Draco said, as the pain eased off again. "He's beginning to get very insistent."
"It seems we've already lost," Oliver said despondently. "If Voldemort's got an army of vampires and dementors, what are we supposed to do?"
"We create an army of our own!" Ron exclaimed. "There are two hundred witches and wizards in Paris alone, who would be more than happy to fight against Voldemort. Most of them are gypsies like us, so there's more to them than just twiddling a wand and saying some choice words. And then there's the muggle gypsies at the Court of Miracles. They know about us, thanks to Fred and George's antics. They'll fight tooth and nail against Voldemort, whether we ask them to or not! So Voldemort's got dark magic and creatures on his side. We've got magic, strength and stamina on out side, not to mention loyalty. Half of
those Death Eaters'll turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble!"
The others stared at Ron in amazement. None of them had ever seen him like this. There was a mad gleam in his eye and all at once he seemed capable of leading an army of one thousand men to victory.
"First thing tomorrow, I'll go to the Court of Miracles and tell Fred and George what's happening. Then we'll address the whole Court. Tomorrow we'll attack and anyone who gets in our way will be killed." Ron continued, looking pointedly at Draco. "That includes your dad if the occasion calls for it, Malfoy."
"Unless..." Everyone looked at Hermione. "Unless you can somehow convince him to help us," she continued. "I mean, look at it this way. If we had someone who was right in Voldemort's circle on our side then we might stand a better chance. He might tell us something that we could use against Voldemort."
Draco shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Voldemort has got him totally taken in. It would take a miracle from heaven to change his mind."
"But you're his son! Surely that must mean something to him!" Hermione exclaimed.
Draco smiled sadly. "One time it would. He's too far gone now. When he finds out that I've betrayed Voldemort then I'll just become another name on his 'To Kill' list."
"Will you not even try?" Harry asked. His voice was a lot gentler now but there was still a glimmer of cold, grim determination in his eyes.
Draco, after several minutes thought, nodded resignedly. "I'll try. But not now. Not tonight. I'm just too tired."
"Aye, it's getting late, by the looks of things." Oliver said, glancing out at the rapidly darkening sky. "We'd best turn in early tonight as we're going to have a long day tomorrow."
***
"Wormtail, did you manage to locate young Malfoy?" Voldemort asked
Peter nodded. "I did, Lord." He said.
"Well? Has he found the boy yet?" Voldemort asked impatiently.
Again, Pettigrew nodded. "He has. But I wouldn't expect him to hand Potter over to you any time soon, my Lord. It seems young Draco has turned traitor." His eyes shifted over to where Lucius was standing as he said this. "I located him at the Notre-Dame cathedral and managed to listen in on his conversation with Potter's mudblood witch friend before Potter returned. He seems to be rather fond of her. If I may be so bold, I would say he's beginning to love her."
"No! Not my boy, not Draco! He wouldn't! He-"
"SILENCE!" Voldemort roared at him, cutting Lucius off mid-tirade. "So it is as I suspected. He obviously wasn't ready for this task. It's a shame, really, he would have made a good Death Eater when he was older, if we'd waited long enough." Voldemort continued thoughtfully.
"What do you mean, Lord?" Lucius asked. Then it dawned on him. "No. You can't, he's only a child!"
"A child who would see me dead!"
"Give him another chance, please! I can talk to him, make him see sense!" Lucius begged.
Voldemort turned on him then. "Do you not understand!? You son would see me, your Master, dead! Even if he did come back, who's to say he won't switch sides again? Who's to say he won't just be acting as a spy like that other traitor Severus Snape? Can you say that?" Lucius shook his head, whimpering slightly. Voldemort spoke again, his voice softer now. "I know this must be hard for you, but it must be done. Draco's loyalties are rapidly changing. You heard Wormtail! He is beginning to fall in love with Harry's mudblood witch friend as we speak."
"You mean that Granger girl?2 Lucius asked, his face a mask of revulsion.
Voldemort nodded. "The very one. Lucius, Draco is tainted. There is no way for him to come back now. And now, Lucius, is for the time for you to test your loyalties." Lucius stared up at him fearfully. "Lucius, Draco must die."
Lucius looked down and swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he looked up again. Slowly, he repeated his Master's words. "Draco must die."
