Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money off of it. Quote taken from Microsoft Encarta World English Dictionary.
Reminder: This story has slash of the H/D variety. Homophobes may leave now.
Author's Note: I'd like to say thank you to Villain (I hope you feel better, and I think that your reviews more than do justice to this story; they're fabulous! =o) and Morien Alexander (biting your fingernails in anticipation? I'm flattered!) for their magnificent feedback. =o)
"Death is the greatest evil, because it cuts off hope."
--William Hazlitt, Characteristics, 1823
Harry didn't know what to think.
Perhaps a more accurate statement was that he wasn't sure how to feel about what had happened that morning in the Great Hall.
It wasn't every day that you saw someone get word that their entire family was dead, and the fact that Harry wasn't exactly sure how he felt about this particular person only made the situation even more complicated and bothersome.
Even though he knew he should be gloating and pleased at the news that one of the people he most despised had just lost everything important in life, Harry didn't feel that way. He simply couldn't. He knew what it was like to feel like you were alone in the world…he knew what it was like to feel as if no one cared. He'd lived like that for many years, until that glorious time came when he'd been informed of his remarkable heritage and Wizarding roots, and made the journey into another world, and a safe haven…Hogwarts. The only place Harry would rather be was in The Burrow, the dwelling-place of his best friend Ron and his large, but nevertheless enchanting, family.
But Draco Malfoy didn't have a Burrow, and Harry got the distinct impression that Hogwarts wasn't a place that the pale young man enjoyed staying at.
Hogwarts was, after all, the site of every embarrassing situation and foiled plan that Malfoy had ever known, all due to the miraculous luck and wit of Harry Potter himself.
Harry knew he should be at least a little pleased that his rude, malicious enemy had at long last gotten his due, but, in the absence of that feeling, he was left with only pity and understanding…and the overwhelming need to follow Draco from the Hall and sweep him into the warm comfort of his arms, to try and take all the pain away.
He raven-haired boy knew that this was not how one was supposed to feel about one's enemy, but he couldn't help himself.
There had to be some hope that everything would be all right, that a happy ending was on its way.
Without that hope, Harry would be lost.
He didn't think about the consequences of his actions, or pause to ponder what anybody would think, because Harry Potter was a young man who often acted on impulse, and evaluated his actions at a later time. He'd survived 16 years and counting so far while using this survival technique, and, despite Voldemort's attempts to prove otherwise, it had not yet failed him.
Using this reasoning (or lack thereof) Harry Potter proceeded to go about doing the only thing he felt he could do at the time, and ran after Draco, leaving behind a stunned Ron and a confused Hermione amongst their fellow classmates.
The whispers got louder, and the rumors began flying from table to table.
**************************************************
Dumbledore sighed from his place at his office desk.
"And what exactly might those demands be?" he asked, tired and depressed although it was not yet noon.
"My first term is that you must hide me on these grounds for the duration of my stay, however long that may turn out to be," said the girl shrewdly.
Dumbledore nodded in acceptance.
"Go on," he urged.
"The second term is that, should the need come about, I may train whomever has the power of Foreknowledge by myself, without any interference from that twittering ninny Trelawney."
"Fair enough," said Dumbledore. "That is, if the student in question gives you their permission to do so," he added.
Doncenella thought about this for a moment before continuing.
"Fine then," she agreed.
"The third and last term is that I must have full access to four students here."
"And who might they be?" inquired Dumbledore inquisitively.
"Harold James Potter, Draconius Evarion Malfoy, Ronald Timothy Weasley, and Hermione Rosemary Granger."
Dumbledore looked appalled.
"Certainly not!" he declared.
"Why not?!" shouted the girl angrily.
"None of them are to get involved with y-- with…this," he said.
Doncenella glared at Dumbledore.
She knew as well as he did what he'd been about to say.
"So, you don't want them around me, is that it?" she spat vehemently.
"They've all gone through enough. I refuse to add more hardships to their lives," he said solemnly.
"You don't have a choice," was the response.
"Without them, we're all lost. Don't you understand that? If you don't allow me to see them, to talk to them, then all the long struggles and broken dreams and sacrifices will have all been for naught. Can't you see? Those kids are the key against Voldemort!" she burst out.
Dumbledore sat in silence, thinking about what his Granddaughter had just said.
He knew he could put his trust in her power to foresee the future, and he knew that she'd do all she possibly could to keep those kids alive…but still. Still. He knew she wasn't young anymore, that she wasn't the seven-year-old girl that had unknowingly brought about such tragedy, but it was still so very hard to trust her. He didn't know whether he had it in him to put his faith in her when he never had before.
"Can you ensure their safety?" he asked finally.
"You know I can do no such thing," she admonished promptly.
"But I'll try. You've got to believe that I'll try," she continued, softer now.
He believed her.
He was taking a leap of faith, and risking everything on the chance that he, and the rest of the world, would come out alive in the end, but, damn it, what else was he suppose to do?
This was the Light's last hope.
"Alright," he said wearily.
"The third term is agreed to."
"Good," she said, relived.
"I'll need to see them immediately. I expect they'll be excused from any classes they might miss today, though of course we'll have work out a schedule of meetings within the next few days--" she began brusquely, but was interrupted soon enough by Dumbledore.
"My dear, I think it would be best if we waited a few days before they meet you. One of them has just recently undergone a great loss, and I feel that it would be best to give him a bit of time before we spring this on him."
"Oh, yes, that Malfoy fellow, correct? He got quite a few unwelcome messages this morning, I believe. But don't worry, that Potter boy went and found him. I suppose I could wait a day or two before I meet him and the others."
"You know about what happened to young Mr. Malfoy's family?" asked Dumbledore quickly.
"Yes, of course I do. What do you think I am, a novice?" she responded.
"I didn't mean to offend you. I merely thought that perhaps you could enlighten me as to why one of my students received such a vast amount of death notices this morning, with no one the wiser as to how those people came to be…deceased, or even who all of them are," he said, trying not to provoke her.
"Well, I suppose there's no harm in telling you," she began, after a few moments careful thought.
"Understand that this conclusion has been drawn not only from my visions, but from prior knowledge and a healthy dose of guesswork as well," she cautioned.
"Such is always the case when dealing with the future," said Dumbledore somberly.
"Alright then. The Malfoys, as I'm sure you are aware, usually threw annual Christmas parties at their hidden manor. They were really quite huge and splendid, and filled to the brim with prominent, notorious Voldemort supporters. People from all over the world were invited, and, as many guests had underage children not yet allowed to legally practice magic while not in school, quite a few guests would appear early on, before the actual day of the party. Now, if I understand it correctly, Hogwarts has recently made a few alterations to its Holiday schedule, and has not yet let out for Christmas break. This seems to be very fortunate, for, you see, the Ministry received word, from an apparently reliable source, that a congregation of Dark Lords was assembling at the Malfoy Manor to make plans to extend Voldemort's power from where it has been growing in southernmost area of Spain. The Ministry, now under the rule of that upstart Evan Anderson since Fudge's death last month, decided to follow a more violent plan of action than they have thus far. They decided to attack the people in the Manor, as they believed that there were no innocents in the there at that time, and sent several Aurors to wipe them out. The Aurors didn't even have to enter the house. They used a new curse developed by the Ministry. No one's ever seen the likes of it before…if it fell into the wrong hands, the effects can be disastrous. They already have been. I don't know its name…all I know is that it's some kind of vastly amplified Avada Kedavra curse that can wipe out many people in one area at the same time. It's sort of like those Muggle, what do you call them…bombs? Yes, bombs, that's the word. It wiped out everyone in the house. Everyone. The Ministry of Magic didn't discover their blunder until they entered a few minutes later. There were bodies everywhere."
Dumbledore stared at the girl before him, aghast.
"Oh my," he said, shocked.
Doncenella was again staring out the window.
"That explanation still doesn't explain why Draco Malfoy received so many letters. Surely the Death notices of the Malfoy's guests would go to their own families?" said Dumbledore after a few minutes.
"That's true," said his granddaughter, sinking into a chair in front of his desk before continuing.
"There's more to the story, you see. Lucius and his fellow Death Eaters had a pact amongst themselves, arranged many years before. There was a sort of…of network, if you will, that bonded the Death Eaters and their families to one another. If a Death Eater died, and that person had no heir to inherit his or her fortune, then all of that money would be split up equally and distributed to all those Death Eaters or their families remaining in the network. There were quite a few Dark Art families in the Malfoy house at the time of the attack…quite a select group; almost every person in the network was there. Draco was the only person in the network not present at that time, actually," she said.
"Meaning what?" asked Dumbledore.
"Meaning that Draco Malfoy has just become the richest Wizard in the world," she replied.