Disclaimer: I don't have the honour of owning Harry Potter, although I get to own everybody else's thoughts since Ms Rowling only writes Harry's.
A/N: This chapter may be shorter than the previous few, but it's a pretty emotion-laden one, though I can't help it given the situation they are in, and whatever that had happened. Still, I hope you like it! Enjoy! (:
The dim light in the Hog's Head Inn was not helping their moods. Draco sat at the edge of a rickety bed, staring at the wooden floor. Ron kept throwing him frowns every now and then from the opposite bed, while Harry sat at the foot of the bed, his head hung. Neville was curled up on another bed, but his eyes were wide open, nervously darting from Harry to Draco. Corrinne was unusually exhausted, and was sound asleep. Ginny, Luna and Hermione sat on the last bed by the window in a contemplative manner. Hermione, in particular, was fidgeting with her fingers, something she didn't do very often. She cast a glance at Draco, then looked back down at her fingers again.
A sound of clopping hooves startled all of them out of their thoughts, and the three girls nearest to the window clambered towards it. There were two figures downstairs, barely illuminated by a lamp one of them was holding.
"The cold's settling in really fast... yer got to be careful goin' all the way back to yer hometown, sir..."
"I will, Hagrid. Thank you for lending me your Thestrals. They will be great company."
"If I may ask, sir, why so many Thestrals yer needin'?"
"What's going on?" asked Neville, worriedly. Ginny put a finger to her lips.
"Tribute to my brother. When I go back, the people of my hometown will understand the significance."
"Ah. Yer sure yer don't want ter bring him back with ye?"
"No, he will be happy staying in the school. Oh wait a minute... one, two, three, four... Hagrid, there're only seven Thestrals. I wanted eight."
"Aye, I mus'be countin' wrong. I'm sorry. Do yer need me ter..."
"It's okay, I understand you were very loyal to my brother, I know it must have shaken you a lot. There will come a time that the evil in the world will be vanquished, mark my words."
"I hope so, sir. Hope so." And there was a loud blowing of the nose. Finally, there was silence for a while.
Quickly, Ginny motioned to the rest to head downstairs, shaking Corrinne awake along the way.
"Aberforth?" Harry called out tentatively, as all of them came down the stairs quickly.
The door of the inn swung open, and the bells above the doorway gave a cacophonous ring. Aberforth trudged in, and slammed the door behind such that the whole inn seemed to shake.
Draco narrowed his eyes, then looked coldly at Aberforth. "So what's this brilliant plan of yours?"
"Don't mock me, young Malfoy." Aberforth returned the glare. "I'm not doing this as a favour to you."
"I know, it's Potter you care about." Draco threw up his hands. "Even when he's lost his parents, he's got a whole army of people waiting to..."
"Don't be a jerk, Malfoy!" Ginny nearly shouted. "You don't have to take it out on everyone just because your life's been screwed up!"
"Thanks for reminding me, Weaselette!" Draco snarled, his hand slamming against the bar counter.
Hermione pushed her way past Luna and Neville to stand in front of Draco, hands on her hips. "Stop it, Draco Malfoy."
Draco knew he couldn't retort much to Hermione, so he just snarled again and turned away angrily. Aberforth watched him for a moment, then turned his attention to Harry.
"Hagrid was here to lend me some Thestrals, which I've told him some story for its use. These Thestrals will be directed for Godric's Hollow. But I must still say this: It's a very dangerous task you are undertaking, and I am still very uncomfortable about letting you all go alone... I was thinking that..."
"No, sir." Hermione stepped up towards him. "Please don't come along." She pressed something hard into his hand, and he stared at the coin. "This is a charmed coin; if we are in danger, we will send you a message so that you can inform the Order."
"It's still too risky! What if..."
"This is my mission." Harry placed a hand on Aberforth's arm. Then he shot a look at the sullen Draco. "And Malfoy's. Please – we are just trying to find out where the Horcrux is. Your brother let Malfoy and Hermione go alone the other time. This time we have more people. Please trust us. We promise to inform you immediately if things are getting out of hand."
"It'll be too late by then!" argued Aberforth, but he knew he couldn't win. Sighing resignedly and in frustration, he led them all out into the cold night before the Thestrals. Luna put up a hand to stroke the mane of the one nearest to hers. All of them were now able to see the Thestrals, after witnessing their Headmaster's death. Draco found himself entranced by the ghostly figures of the Thestral as it turned its head towards him. The agony from his mother's death struck him again, and he grimaced.
"There are only seven..." Ginny announced. "Maybe Harry and I could..."
"Hermione?" Harry's voice broke in. "Why don't you share one with Malfoy?"
Ginny raised her eyebrows in surprise; everyone else was equally startled, including Draco himself. Harry looked a little awkward himself. Ron let out a derisive snort. "Harry, are you blinding insane or are you..."
"I think they need to talk." Harry tried to sound casual. "Yes?"
"Okay," was all Hermione could say. Aberforth helped her up into the nearest Thestral, and Draco swung himself up behind her. He saw Ginny and Harry exchange looks of understanding, while Ron was still peeved. That made him hesitate a little. This position that they were in reminded him of the time when they had to all fly out of the caves on one broom. It wasn't too long ago, yet it seemed like they had come a very long way.
"Draco!" Hermione shook him free of thoughts. "Harry's talking to you."
Draco blinked, then turned towards Harry, who was gesturing to him to go first. He took a deep breath, then slid his arms under Hermione's to reach for the reins which she was already holding onto. He felt her relax against him, while there was a deep snort from Ron disguised as a frantic cough. At the tug of the reins, the Thestral began to kick off, and one by one, the rest followed suit. Aberforth was calling after them to take care, but soon, he was out of earshot. All Draco could think of at the moment were his parents, and undoubtedly, Hermione, for the strawberry perfume in her hair was rather hard to ignore.
"Hey."
He jerked out of his reverie and cocked an eyebrow at Hermione, who was looking back at him. She looked worried.
"Don't be rash, okay?" She seemed to be searching through his eyes for any sign of recklessness.
A smirk formed on Draco's face, but it was tinged with bitterness. "I don't really intend to carry on this mission for long, you know. It's... it's like something's eating at me. I can't wait to get rid of it."
Hermione looked even more worried.
Draco let go of one hand on the rein to wrap his arm around her middle, causing her to gasp lightly. Then he pulled her against him and took a deep breath of the scent; it seemed to calm him. She sat there, frozen, almost holding her breath as he spoke, muffled.
"But I promised I would do anything to protect you. Which means I will have to stay alive."
Hermione's eyes went wide. "You – you promised? To – "
Draco chuckled, and she could feel the soft puffs of laughter against her curls. "Do you think I'd get to promise Weasel anything? He'd hex me if I even mentioned your name."
"So – you promised Harry."
"Can't say it's the proudest thing I've ever done."
Even though it was a chilly night, Hermione felt completely enveloped in warmth at that very instant, like she had just downed a cup of hot, toasty tea. She could scarcely bring herself to look at Draco, feeling the heat flush towards her neck.
"It's... well, I mean... goodness, Draco, do you remember when we were first allocated to patrol together? We were always at the opposite ends of the corridor. And you were always taking away points for no rhyme or reason, like when somebody dropped a pile of books on your toes and you got so..." She was rambling; she couldn't help it.
Another soft puff of laughter. "The beginning of your espionage mission."
Hermione winced. "It's not so much that... it's just that... Draco, you've changed so much. If we go back to first year, perhaps, you were just that wimpy brat who was frightened out of his lights in the Forbidden Forest when we had detention together!"
"Excuse me, did you say wimpy brat?" Draco forgot all his misery and raised his eyebrows.
"You dropped your lantern and ran out with these big, wide eyes!" Hermione demonstrated by widening her eyes at him, then grinned cheekily while Draco looked mortified. "And how about third year, when you were being such a prat about Hagrid, so I decided to give you..."
"Hey, leave the man some pride!" Draco twisted his face into a look of annoyance. Then a mischievous glint came into his eyes as he tugged a little at the reins. Suddenly, the Thestral jerked forward, and they were hurtling downwards. Hermione screamed, but Draco immediately clammed her mouth with his hand. He jerked the reins again, and the Thestral resumed flying at the usual pace and direction.
"Hermione, are you okay?" A distant voice called out. Apparently the Thestrals had been instructed to fly separately so that they would not be too conspicuous.
Hermione brushed away Draco's hand with indignance, then called out, "I'm fine!" before glaring at Draco, who was looking very innocent. "What was that for?"
He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. "Wimpy brat."
Hermione scrunched up her face, and he chuckled. At least it was better than when he was so touchy earlier on. "Well if that makes you feel better!"
"Mm..." He let out a sigh.
"Whatever it is, you've changed a lot." Hermione turned serious. "You know, when you picked yourself up after your mother, I was really proud of you. For everything. The caves, meeting Wentervale, fighting against Rookwood... and eventually Bellatrix Lestrange. Just two more, Draco, just two more."
Her words seemed to ignite a fire in him that gave his weary self some strength. "This is what I have to do. For my parents. But – you just came along and fought too," he struggled to find the words to continue, for he didn't like feeling sentimental and showing it, "and – and you didn't tell Potter everything, did you? Like my mission to kill Dumbledore."
She shifted slightly, but he held her more tightly.
"I - " He frowned and chewed at his lips for a while. Finally, he gave up and scowled. "Well yeah, just two more."
Hermione smiled, away from his gaze. She could see Harry in the distance on his Thestral. Well, I never thought I would see the day that Draco Malfoy would talk to Harry Potter about such things...
And as Hermione's thoughts ran on, Draco was looking at her intently. In the midst of the warmth that she gave him, he could feel the familiar ache in his heart as he thought of his father's imposing figure – dangerous, cunning, but yet gave everything for his family; his mother's matronly one – stiff, regal, but yet did everything she could do to protect her only son.
You know, Hermione, he thought, they wouldn't have wanted their son to fall in love with a Muggle-born. No matter how much they loved me. Now there's no one in the family to stop me from being with one. Is that supposed to be a blessing in disguise?He shook his head slightly, the bitterness flooding in again.
"Draco?" She spoke once again, prompting him to lift his head. "When everything's over, would you like me to attend your mother's funeral with you?"
His mouth twitched upwards as he held her tightly, burying his face in her brown tresses that were flying wildly as they zipped through the night sky.
-.-.-.-.-.-
When the Thestrals began their descent, none of its riders could make out where they were landing. There were faint, dim lights below, but no outlines of any buildings. It was only when the hooves made contact with the ground that Hermione realised that they were surrounded with fog. With a wave of her wand, some of the fog cleared, and amidst dim lights, there was a tall obelisk before them.
Draco slipped down the Thestral, and helped Hermione off it. The rest followed suit. Ron was muttering something about "I thought I heard her scream or something, don't believe that prat..." to Harry, but the latter was not listening as he headed towards the obelisk. Hermione looked around and noticed that they were somewhat in the middle of a village square of some sorts. There were rows of houses along the sides, but they were quiet and unlit, save for one or two dull streetlamps along the sidewalks. It was a lot colder here, and she wrapped her robe around her more tightly.
To her surprise, Harry had fallen to his knees before the obelisk, and his head was bent. Ginny rushed forward, but Hermione could see the faint letterings on the base of the obelisk against the light of Harry's wand.
"IN MEMORY OF JAMES AND LILY POTTER, IN THEIR VALIANT FIGHT AGAINST WIZARDING EVIL."
Wizarding evil.Draco stepped forward to stare at those words. As he saw Ginny place a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, he suddenly realised just how much this mission meant to Harry as well. In his mind, he could picture Voldemort casting Killing Curses at two figures who were protecting a baby – or at least, what the story of Harry Potter had gone – a baby who was cursed with a lightning bolt scar to his forehead to remind him of the tragedy of his parents. A physical reminder to exact revenge. Not to mention that everybody in the wizarding world was expecting Harry Potter to be the one to defeat Voldemort. It was insane – the social pressure, yet at the same time, how the flame of revenge must be burning in him!
"It's my father, it's none of your business," He could remember himself saying. "And I don't need Saint Potter to cover my back. This is between the Dark Lord and me. If Potter or any one else related to him comes into the fray, it's no longer a personal vengeance. And the more people despise me, the more they hate me, the stronger I am."
But that wasn't true. It was no longer just about a personal vengeance.
"WHY IS MY MOTHER CRYING? What the bloody hell did you..."
"Draco, your father is dead."
His fists clenched.
"Please..." His father's faint whisper came back to him again, the familiar haunt of his dreams.
"I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy."
He could feel tremors running through his body. "...and I pledge myself to the service of the Dark Lord with the undertaking of my late father's responsibility as your humble servant. I will fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities, and I will serve the Dark Lord with unwavering loyalty, and – a stone cold heart."
"Remember your father..."Wentervale's dying words.
"Draco, you must go to the Dark Lord, you must tell him that you didn't mean to do all that to him. Tell him you were foolish. You must go back to him, you must carry on for your father!"His mother's hysterical pleas.
"One move, Drakey, and mommy's dead."Bellatrix's purring voice.
Mother... you can't leave me.
Something warm covered his hand. It was Hermione – she was holding his hand.
"You must hold on Draco, if you really want to avenge your parents. You must hold on to search for the last two Horcruxes. It's only this way that we can get rid of him."Hermione. Always Hermione, getting him back on track.
I love her.
Everything was exploding inside his head, but Hermione's grip tightened. Gradually, the thoughts bombarding him receded, and he saw Harry stand up slowly, helped up by Ginny. Then the bespectacled boy turned to face Draco. There was a very determined look on his face, and Draco knew instantly that Harry had promised his parents the same thing he had promised to do for his own.
"Excuse me." Neville's shaky voice cut through their silence. Everyone turned to see that he had come across a rather perplexed-looking young man, who looked a bit uneasy at their presence. "Do you know where the Potters live?"
"Excuse me?" The man repeated Neville's words, then looked at him with a hint of distaste. "Who are you people? Why are you dressed in this – this... and holding those... is this some kind of a costume parade?"
"A what?" Ron echoed, but Hermione whispered. "This is a Muggle town!"
"The... Potters," Neville faltered, bringing the word into a jumbled mess.
"Oh, the Watters? They've gone to visit their folks back in uhh... wait let me see..."
"No, we meant the Potters," said Corrinne, rolling her eyes.
"Never a Potter!" The man shook his head vigorously. "Never a Potter that lived here!"
"Then what's that?" Ginny pointed at the obelisk. But the man just shrugged his shoulders. "War memorial for some folks who once lived here and fought the Civil War. Unnamed folks, bless them!"
"Unnamed?" Corrinne frowned. "That means they can't read those words either."
"I'd better be going," said the man, shooting them suspicious looks before he hurried off.
Shivering, the little group made their way along the streets, peering hard at each house to see if they could identify Harry's old house. They had walked quite a fair bit, and Draco was getting extremely frustrated. But he saw Harry in front looking fervently at each house and reckoned that if Potter was not going to give up, neither would he. Luna had begun humming something that seemed to soothe all of their frazzled nerves.
However, even Harry soon found himself getting disillusioned. They had almost made it to the end of the streets, with a forest right at the end signalling a no-go. An elderly man had come out of his house to yell them off his gate, and two young ladies had hurried off when Ginny tried to approach them.
"If my parents did live here, none of them would know, would they!" Harry was exasperated. "Everything all magicked, including that monument! Maybe it's all destroyed!" He ended off on a bitter note.
"Harry, if it was all destroyed, Aberforth wouldn't have bothered asking his brother to take you here," said Hermione, gently.
"Hey, look at that!" Ron pointed at a house right at the end of the street. "It looks like somebody threw a Blast Bomb there."
Harry made his way across slowly. It was a crooked little house with a top storey had been blackened and a little caved in. The lawn was now overgrown with weeds, and everywhere was covered with grime and cobweb.
"Excuse me..." Neville was trying his luck again, this time with a harrowed-looking woman. "Did somebody use to live there?"
"Live where?" The woman raised an eyebrow. "Young man, I thought you'd have better eyesight than I would! Oh right, you people are just visitors, aren't you? Well, it may just be an empty piece of state land, but you could get imprisoned for trespassing! Has been so for many, many years!" And she tutted, and left.
Harry turned and stared at the house, taking in its every feature. Something came into his throat.
-.-.-.-.-.-
"Nice house," commented Ron, casually, as they walked around what must have been the living room.
Everything was in decay, but the mantelpiece above the fireplace still stood upright, and there were four thin frames with cracked glass. Harry picked one of them up and tilted them towards his lit wand. He could barely make out faint figures moving around. His parents – moving around. He put it down and picked another up. This time there were three figures. His parents – and him. In his mother's arms.
Tears were running down Harry's cheeks, but he didn't seem to notice as he picked up another frame. Draco was surveying the door, then the staircase, imagining what had happened that night. He turned and saw Harry, a dark look overcoming his face. He marched forward and took the frame out of Harry's hands. Harry spun and looked fiercely through tears at him, but Draco was unfazed.
"We're here to get him," hissed Draco. "If you get emotional, he'd sense it." He pointed at Harry's scar. "I'm sure there's some kind of connection through that thing, I've heard! So get a grip!"
Harry brushed off Draco's hand rather brusquely, and with his other hand wrenched his spectacles off and wiped his eyes roughly, turning away from Draco. The blond boy stood there, no emotions written on his face at that moment. Yet deep inside, watching Harry stumble through the house and picking up random items that reminded him of his family, he could not help feeling a surge of emotions ball up within him. His gaze flickered back to the mantelpiece, and even in the dimness, he could make out the smiles on the Potters' faces. He felt wretched. He hadn't remembered a time when his family took a picture and all three were looking happy. Yes, even baby Potter felt like he was radiating happiness. It was obscene, the way it made him hurt.
But he wasn't hurting so much because they smiled and his never did. The Malfoy family never really preached happiness. But at least he was contented. It had been a grim childhood for him, for his father's high expectations and strict teachings had not been the happiest of lifestyles. His mother's tendency to defer to his father was not helpful either. Still, he knew it was their way of caring for him, because they wanted the best for him. And they had seen the best as allegiance to one of the most powerful wizards in the world.
Just that the route chosen was not the best after all.
"You know," Harry traced the staircase railing with his hand, "I feel as if I can imagine them here, alive."
Draco had to swallow the bitterness in his throat. Hermione had gone forward to place a hand on Harry's shoulder, and Ron the other.
"And then in that instant, just gone."
Personal vengeance.
It's not just mine.
Draco looked around and saw Corrinne Whitemayer's eyes flash. That bloody red was sickeningly frightening.
"Your family... they're all killers! All of them!"
With every word she had said, every word she had hurt him with – she had been hurt, too. His father had condemned her parents to insanity. He knew. But he had been a puppet.
He saw Neville Longbottom's expression – surprisingly determined. Also another one whose parents had been tortured, by his insane aunt. Another puppet.
It's everyone's personal hunt for revenge.
Harry's eyes met his. "Dumbledore once said – the power I had over Voldemort – is love."
Love?
He sighed. "I always thought that was so pathetic. What does love have against Voldemort? But now I know – at least it keeps me going. The fact that my mother died to give me life."
Draco was about to contemplate the profoundness of those words, when Harry suddenly jerked upright, and everybody was startled.
"What?" Ginny demanded, looking flustered.
"Listen!" Harry urged. "Hear that sound?" But no one could hear anything.
"Mate," began Ron, but Harry waved at him madly to keep quiet. Straining hard, his eyes widened.
"Harry..." Hermione's grip on his shoulder tightened.
At that moment, Draco thought he could hear a faint hissing sound. He went rigid.
Harry turned to Hermione. "He's nearby... it's Nagini."