A/N1: Warning for some disturbing imagery ahead in the next chapters!

A/N2: There is so much happening right now in the story that there will be chapters that retell events from different POV's. Eventually, I won't be writing a day-by-day accounting and things will move along faster!

A/N3: Thanks for all the get well wishes and for all the reviews! I love 'em!

Primoris Oraculum Duo (First Prophecy Two)

Chapter 7

Draco lay on his bed with the curtain drawn closed. Slytherins who supported a Pureblood-only society were celebrating in the common room. Draco had offered obligatory hurrahs and then escaped to the dormitory. He had finally stopped shaking.

He knew that the death of the Grangers had been engineered by his father. He had the letter that all but spelled it out …

you will soon be unchallenged as the brightest student of your year … the Mudblood will be leaving after we have done with those who spawned her …

He wanted to talk to Severus, but the man had been holed up in his office, refusing to see anyone.

Dumbledore had asked Draco to his own office late the night before. Draco had gone after the old man had insisted. He had spent the time chatting about school, the teachers, and had kept offering him Muggle sweets. Draco had been curious about why the Headmaster was so obviously detaining him, so he had sat patiently enduring the 'visit'.

In the early morning hours, Snape had stepped through the fireplace; Death Eater attire making him seem even more of a menacing, towering presence. He had looked at Draco for a long moment before ordering him to go back to his dormitory. Draco remembered seeing kind of sadness in the man's black eyes before it was quickly hidden and replaced by his usual sneer. The welling bruise along Snape's jaw had not gone unnoticed.

In his common room, some of the older Slytherins had been gathered, talking in quiet excitement about what was happening at that very moment. Their parents had apparently told them that an important event would be taking place and they were waiting up for news.

Draco sat down, saying that he had been unable to sleep and had been wandering the halls. There was no other choice but to join them in the waiting. When the first messages came, there was practically a riot that brought all the other Slytherins from their beds. He had finally managed to make excuses and retreat to his bed. When he thought about how excited most of the other Slytherins were about the deaths of Hermione Granger's parents, he had started to shake. Knowing that his own father had probably set it all up had made him physically ill.

He had thought about his family's beliefs quite a bit of late. He had been taught that pure blood was superior in every way, deserving of power and fortune. Muggleborns and half-bloods tainted the wizarding lines. Intermarrying ruined the power of the magic in families. It was only acceptable to marry a fellow pureblood. All others were less than human and fit only to be used and discarded.

Draco had talked to Snape about the things his father had said, trying to get a feeling for where Snape stood. He knew that on the surface Snape stood with those in support of pure blood supremacy. But he had read between the lines during their conversation. Snape was always very careful not to bad-mouth either side of the argument. He disguised this by encouraging Slytherins to use their own minds to think through the various schools of thought. He had often told them not to be a sheep and blindly follow a crowd. In Draco's mind, that meant that Snape believed that following the Dark Lord was the same as being a sheep. He believed that Snape was one of the smartest men he knew and he trusted him many times over his own father. For he had seen a madness shining in the eyes of the senior Malfoy, a madness and thirst for blood that had nothing to do with supremacy and everything to do with a cruel desire to hurt and destroy. He had felt his father's wrath over something as small as not being able to grasp a difficult spell on the first attempt. Lucius Malfoy craved power, and he would do anything to feel it. It was an addiction that he fed with whatever was at hand. He used Draco's schooling to impress friends and acquaintances about how highly intelligent his Pureblood son was. When he was bested by a Mudblood, he took it out in Draco's hide.

Draco remembered the first time his father had discovered that not only had Draco been beaten by a girl, but the girl was a Gryffindor, and a Muggleborn. The scores had come by owl during the summer holiday after Draco's first year. Lucius swaggered into the Ministry the next day, sitting down at his seat on the Board of Governors, oozing pride in his heir's accomplishments. That was when a fellow board member told him that the highest first-year scores had actually been made by a Gryffindor female of Muggle parentage. Lucius had managed to remain civil while still at the Ministry. Once home, however, he had ranted at Draco like a man possessed. Draco had stood quietly, head held high, expression suitably ashamed. He had been relieved when his father had sent him to his room to begin his summer studies with the order not to simply try harder to be the best, but be the best; whatever the cost.

But Lucius wasn't finished with him. Various Slytherin alumni had heard of the brightest mind of the year their own children were in, and it wasn't a Slytherin. It soothed their own egos that it wasn't Malfoy's son; as he had always been quick to insist that his was the brightest. Lucius had taken Draco to the Manor dungeon and beaten him. Narcissa had not interfered, but had crept to Draco later in the night, soothing the lash marks left on his back and legs with her wand, calming his tears with soft caresses of Draco's platinum hair.

Draco has learned then that his father was a sadistic egomaniac. He didn't know for certain if he treated his mother the same way, but he had suspicions based upon her familiarity with healing charms and her supply of pocket sized vials of pain relief potions.

So he had returned to school with hatred even bigger for Hermione Granger. These past years, he had nursed it, cultivated it, trying to tell himself that the academic honors she achieved were rightfully his, just as his father had drilled into him. But down deep inside, he had realized that she was the brighter. She did deserve it more.

This last spring, when they had attended a musical theatre of the presentation of The Phantom of the Opera, he had played right along with his parents in their pureblooded baiting and snubbing of the Grangers. His father had been very suspicious of the fact that Severus was with them. Severus had passed it off as an assignment from Dumbledore. He was to be keeping an eye on the trouble-maker, Harry Potter. Draco had been jealous that Severus was with Potter and the rest of the Trio. He had wished that he was part of that group, when they had watched from their limousine as they passed by, laughing and clearly enjoying their evening. It had not escaped him that the Grangers had maintained a classy sort of civility that his Pureblood parents lacked.

Turning over on his side, he knew he would not sleep this night. A quick time-telling charm told him that it was almost 4 in the morning. He got up and walked silently out of his dormitory, passing various Slytherins who were passed-out in the common room, a result of their overindulgent celebrating.

He didn't feel a need to be sneaky at this time. Who in their right minds wandered the corridors at this hour? Hands in his pockets, he walked aimlessly, finding himself at the Astronomy Tower.

Out on the ramparts he stood looking over the moonlit grounds below. How could it look so serene when elsewhere in the world such ugliness had happened? He sat with his back against the castle wall, arms around drawn up knees. His father would grimace in disgust at such a common way of sitting, getting his trousers soiled by sitting directly on the ground. Well that was great; really great, in fact. Who the hell cared what Lucius Malfoy thought anyway? He no longer did.

He wondered about his mother. What did she think about all this? She was coolly affectionate to Draco when they were alone, while maintaining the strictly formal aloofness that Lucius demanded when he was present. Did she agree with the extremes her husband had gone to? Was she a Death Eater, too?

Draco put his head onto his knees then. He had admitted it to himself, finally. His father really was a Death Eater. He really would expect Draco to follow him into service to Voldemort. He remembered how glamorous he had thought it would be, how powerful he would feel … the musings of an idiot, he thought now. It would take a truly deranged mind to want to do the things Death Eaters must do.

He steeled himself for the letter he knew his father would be sending; it might already be on its way, detailing the previous evenings activities. His father would have a need to brag about it, of that he was sure.

The sun was just coming up over the trees when the Malfoy eagle owl found Draco still sitting at the top most place in the castle. He pulled the rolled parchment from its leg and waved it off, muttering, "Go on, I don't have anything to give you, and even if I did, I hardly want to show my appreciation for you finding me to deliver my father's letter."

The owl gave him a hard bite before taking wing again. Draco rubbed his bitten hand, watching the bird disappear before looking down at the letter. He unrolled it slowly and read:

My son,

Your way to being the top student is now cleared. It is unimaginable that the disgusting Mudblood will stay at Hogwarts after last night. Details will have to wait until we are face to face, but rest assured that the facts are more delicious than anything you can dream up.

As the best of Hogwarts, it is assured that you will also be welcomed into the Inner Circle earlier than any other ever before. I will be so proud to be the father of the youngest in the service to our master.

L.M.

Draco wadded the letter up, wishing he had the courage to throw himself off the tower. Now it looked like he would be forced to become a Death Eater before he even took his NEWTS.

Standing up, he looked out over the grounds again, stepping close to the edge to peer down. It was a long way, high enough to kill, high enough to have time to think about it on the way down. He backed away, and then slowly went to the door and then back into the castle. He could always think about it again later, keep it as an option if things got really messed up, if it came down to it being the more appealing choice in the end.

Not wanting to go back to Slytherin, he went to the Great Hall. Very few were about at this early hour, but when he sat down, a selection of food appeared in front of him. He stared at it, knowing that anything going in would most likely come back up. He settled for a small glass of pumpkin juice and a piece of bacon that he dragged through the runny yolk of a fried egg. He was staring at it still when more Slytherins sat down at the table.

"What a night, huh, Malfoy?" Crabbe was shoveling food onto his plate as he talked.

"Bet all our dads were in on it. Wish we coulda been there too." Goyle sounded wistful as he began to butter a slice of toast.

Draco sat silently, but if they thought it was unusual, they didn't comment. They were used to his arrogant attitudes and that did make it easier to ignore them. They were each involved in their own thoughts when Professor Dumbledore stood and asked for their attention.

"I know that not everyone is present yet, but I would ask that each of you pass on what I am about to tell you, as it concerns us all." He paused, and Draco thought he looked tired and older this morning. He also thought he knew what the Headmaster was about to say.

Dumbledore continued, "Last night, one of our students lost her parents in an attack by Death Eaters." Many voices whispered around the other tables. Slytherin knew what was coming; so they were silent, a few even smiling behind their hands. "Hermione Granger's parents were Muggles and we assume they were targeted because of her affiliation with the school and with her close friends."

Dumbledore didn't say Potter's name, but any informed person knew who her closest friends were. "Due to the nature of what has occurred and the fact that it is so near the weekend, classes today are cancelled. Those of you who feel close enough to Miss Granger may address your condolences in care of the Weasley family. Regretfully, I feel that it would not be safe for any students to attend the services for her parents."

There was a heavy silence around the Hall for several moments before a tall Ravenclaw raised his hand and stood. Dumbledore acknowledged him and he asked, "Will she be able to return to class, sir? I mean, will she even want to?"

Dumbledore looked around the room and Draco could almost feel it the instant the blue eyes fell on him. "I do not know. I would hope that Miss Granger will choose to complete her education here at Hogwarts. Each person deals with grief differently. What I do know is that she will need the support of her friends, whether she stays or goes. No matter what house you are in, I am certain that she would appreciate your help and concern at this time." He sat back down, turning to talk to Professor McGonagall.

Draco noted that Snape was absent from the head table. He supposed that after last night, the man was finding that he also had a lack of appetite.

Slytherins were now making plans for another party later in their common room. Draco stood and mumbled an excuse about having more homework to catch up on since he had the time.

In the library, he went to the very back and slouched into an easy chair that was hidden from view unless you looked for it. He grabbed a book that lay on the table beside him and opened it, so he could easily claim to be reading if anyone asked. Minutes later he finally fell into a troubled sleep, his head propped up on his hand.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Snape fled the Headmasters office and walked quickly to the dungeons where he slammed the doors and locked himself away. He threw the Death Eater mask against the wall hard enough to crack it in two pieces. Ripping the black robes off, he tore it in half from neck to hem. A rage so deep welled up inside him and he needed to find an outlet for it. Striding to the lab, he went to a cabinet and methodically pulled vials and bottles out. Each one was sent crashing into the wall. Some combinations sizzled and smoked as they mixed against the stone. Pooling on the floor beneath, heavy fumes began to rise from the mess. His shoulders heaved with emotion that he was not used to feeling. He had forgotten how crippling such emotion could be.

He felt Harry probing hesitantly, asking softly, 'How could you? I'll never be able to look at Hermione again, knowing what I know.'

Snape answered tiredly, 'You don't know everything that happened, what forced me to take the actions I did –'

'Forced you?' Harry's voice sounded incredulous and Snape could hear the boy's fury. 'You were forced to kill a woman who was your friend?' Snape saw in his mind the accusing green eyes; Lily's eyes. 'She took you into her home and cooked dinner for you … she was gentle … she was good …'

'She was like Lily …' he heard the agony in his own voice.

But Harry was relentless in his sarcastic reply. 'Well, I'm sure you were just as broken up about her death too, weren't you?'

He didn't know what he would say, but he had to try and explain. 'Harry, let me tell you what –'

'I don't want to hear your excuses. I don't want to talk to you anymore tonight. I'm not sure that I ever want to talk to you again.' Harry closed the link with a snap that seemed to echo in Snape's head like a bell sounding a death knell.

With a cry of helpless rage, Snape swept the entire contents of his storage cabinet into the floor. He left the room, slamming the door behind him to contain the caustic and poisonous disaster. Sealing the door to his quarters against anyone who might try and enter, he then turned to the fireplace. Throwing in Floo Powder, he called out the destination of the one place he knew no one would find him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Hermione held the warm cup in her hands, not wanting to drink the tea but needing something to hold on to. Her hands were so cold and the heat felt soothing, as if it put a little life back into her. Her eyes were not focused on the table they seemed to be staring at and she started when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She lifted empty brown eyes to look into Molly Weasley's sad hazel ones. She absently thought how much Ron's eyes were like his mothers, and then remembered how her dad had always aid her eyes were like Ellen's … Tears began to make fresh tracks down her cheeks and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to stop crying, I really am trying to …" She put the cup down and swiped at the tears with her hands.

Molly enfolded her in a hug, rocking the girl as she sobbed. "Sh-sh-sh, It's alright to cry, dear. You need to let it out sometime, and there's no rules about how often, how much, or how long. You just do what you need to. I'm here … I'm here."

Hermione gripped the other woman tightly, needing the arms around her, needing to feel a physical presence there with her. Molly held her until she stopped crying. She knew the child had to be exhausted from lack of sleep, and the trauma of losing her parents. Perhaps she would finally let Molly take her upstairs and put her to bed.

"Let's get you a warm bath and settle you into bed, hmm?"

Hermione nodded and let Molly lead her upstairs. A bubble bath was drawn and Molly laid out soft towels and a bath robe of Ginny's. With a wave of her wand, she produced another steamy cup of tea that she left beside the tub. "You just have a good soak and I'll be up in a bit to help you get to bed. Madame Pomfrey sent a sleeping potion for you."

With a pat on her arm, Molly left her to herself. Hermione undressed and slid into the tub. She laid her head back, not caring that her hair was getting soaked because she forgot to put it up. More tears leaked out and ran down her cheeks to drop into the water. She would never see her mum and dad again. How was that possible? Surely there had been some sort of mistake. Why would her parents ever fall victim to Death Eaters? They had never hurt anyone … wait … back in the spring when they had all gone to the theatre … they had run into the Malfoys and Mr. Malfoy had said some awful things. Her dad had stood up to him, even placing himself between his daughter and a wizard he could not hope to beat if it came down to a fight. Had that been a call to vengeance for Malfoy?

Draco had never been pleasant, with his self righteous pure-blood snobbishness. He had called Hermione a fair number of names to her face and she was certain there had been even more and worse behind her back. But would he do something like this, murder another human being just for the sake of making a statement about the superiority of Pureblood wizards?

Sighing, she realized that Draco would have been at Hogwarts when this happened. If his father had anything to do with it, she couldn't blame his son.

She missed Ron already. It had been bad enough that they were worrying about Harry, but now she was separated from Ron, too. She hoped that he would be allowed to come here, since it was his home. She was glad to be with his mum and dad, but she needed him too.

The water was cooling off and she lacked the energy to cast a rewarming charm on it. Getting up, she dried off and tied the robe around her, glad that it was an over sized plush one that felt like being surrounded by a cloud. She made herself drink half the cold tea so Molly wouldn't worry so much about her leaving it.

Molly bustled upstairs and had Hermione in bed in no time, tipping the sleeping potion into her mouth as if she were a small child. "Tomorrow, we'll help you decide what you want to do about services. Don't worry about where you'll stay during breaks; Arthur and I have already decided that you'll be like a daughter to us, if that is what you want." She looked carefully, not expecting an answer, but because she wanted to make sure Hermione wouldn't worry about something like where she belonged now.

Hermione felt the sleeping potion beginning to work and she reached out to take one of Molly's hands in hers. "Thank you for taking care of me, Mrs. Weasley. I would have been so lost without you … I can't repay you …"

"Sh-sh-sh … there's no need, dear. You've been like our own all the times you've been here. Just rest, and lean on us."

Hermione's eyes closed and she fell into a sleep that managed to be dreamless and restful.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO