A/N: I kind of bludged this chapter *bows head and shuffles foot in dirt*.
Anyway, please r/r.
Draco stared out the commonroom window, his gaze sweeping over the large green field that led down to the cluster of trees that formed the Forbidden Forest. The sky was full of thick clouds, a strange purple colour. They were heavy with rain, ready to burst open. He sighed and tapped his quill impatiently on the table, splashing bits of bright green ink on the parchment that lay before him.
"What are you doing?" James asked nonchalantly, his hands full of what looked like a bunch of frog legs.
"Homework. What's in your hand?" Draco asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as James tossed one of the things into the air.
"Oh, just some frog legs I stole from the Potions room," James said, before aiming one towards Pansy. It hit her on the head, falling to the ground as she turned around. She took one look at it before screaming in utter fear, rubbing her head violently.
"Stop it," Draco hissed loudly as James began to throw the legs at other people. Soon, the commonroom was alive with the sound of screams as everyone ducked the flying legs.
"James, stop it!" Draco yelled loudly, knowing that he couldn't be heard over the high-pitched squeals. James smiled crookedly and turned around.
"What's the matter Draccy-Waccy? Don't you like having fun? I mean, come on! This is so boring. Why don't you escape through a secret passage way or something? You know, be exciting for a change," James said, looking seriously at Draco. "There is only so much room in life for study and…work, you know."
Draco sighed and rubbed his head in frustration. For the past three nights, he'd been racking his brain, trying to figure out a way to reverse the curse and send James back to the land of the dead. On top of that, he still couldn't forget Snape's words the night he'd brought James back. He knew the other voice was distinctly familiar, it's clipped tone recognisable. If only he had dared to look, to peek out from under the table to see who the other man was…
With a start, Draco realised that the room had suddenly gone ominously quiet. He looked up and stared around at the Slytherin's, bewildered at their frightened faces. Slowly, he turned around, dreading the outcome. He could tell from the looks on the faces of the other Slytherins that he was going to be in big trouble. And from the ugly look on Snape's face that greeted him when he turned, he knew that it would be serious stuff.
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It was dark, the cold penetrating through his skin as he trembled in his hiding spot, ferns brushing against his bare back as he tried to move and stretch his muscles without making any noise. He could hear the breathing, deep and coarse, behind him and fingers scratching his back, leaving bloody trails where they had been. He could feel no more pain, his body immune to the piercing stabs. He looked down at his legs, blue with cold and tried to think clearly; where was he? How had he gotten here? More importantly, what was he doing here?
He heard a muffled groan from behind him and he turned to stare into the face a tiny girl, no older than three sleeping behind him. Her pyjamas were ripped and her lips were a cold, deathly blue. He moved trying to turn so he could see her more clearly. His fingers sunk into something soft and he pulled them out, examining them. With a start, he realised that they were stained red. Red with blood. He glanced down at the little girl again and noticed the blood staining her shirt. He realised she was dead, that her legs were as stiff as ice; she'd been dead for a long time.
But the muffled groan…
It was then that he realised that he and the dead girl were not alone.
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Draco sat up quickly, his face damp with sweat as he breathed hard, fists clenched. He slowly gazed around the room, calming as he saw that he was in bed in the Slytherin dormitory. He stared out the window, the full moon shining brightly, casting eerie shadows across the floor.
"Can't sleep either?" a voice said from across the room. James stood up and walked over towards him, a glass of milk in his hand. "Sorry for getting you into trouble earlier on. Snape sure likes to hand out those detentions, doesn't he? Fancy getting three detentions for throwing frog legs around. I remember a time when Sirius and me bewitched a suit of armour to make it walk around covered in blood and we only got two detentions for that. Of course, they did write a letter to our parents but still…"
"How can I bloody sleep when I've got so much on my plate? First and foremost, I've got to find a way to fix up this problem with you, and now I can't stop worrying about what Snape and that other guy were talking about the night I brought you back from the dead. Do you know what I just dreamt about then? I dreamt I was in a forest with a dead girl and I kept hearing muffled groans. It must be some sort of sign, or something. I can't figure it out," Draco sighed, kneading his forehead with his knuckles trying to relieve some of the tension he felt.
James sighed and stood up.
"Life isn't always what you want it to be, Draco. Fate chooses the paths we take. I mean, who would ever have thought that a Malfoy would bring a Potter back to life, even if it was by accident. What are the odds of that happening?" he said, shaking Draco's shoulder, trying to crack a smile.
"I'm going to tell you something, Draco, that I'll probably regret telling you for the rest of my life…or death. It happened seventeen years ago, before you were born. I can remember it so clearly. Now, don't get me wrong, Lucuis Malfoy, your father, was always rotten to the core, no offence or anything. Anyway, I think that too many things just went wrong in his life and this was the last straw for him, or something."
"It was a Sunday, that I remember, and there was mayhem all throughout magical England. I know that no one ever told you this, but you once had a sister who, should she be alive, would be twenty years old. She was three when it happened. Well- there really is no easy way to tell you this, no matter how I say it, it comes out rude and uncaring. You see, she was kidnapped by Voldemort," to Draco's surprise, he didn't feel the familiar ripple of fear flow through him at the mention of his name. "Your mother was pregnant with you at the time, and as you can tell, she was so distressed, she fell into a coma. They never found your sister, and no one knows if she was killed or is still alive, living somewhere in London today. It sent your father into a frenzy, and many thought that he would give up his alliance with Voldemort."
"Yet something happened. No one knows what, exactly, but Voldemort managed to convince Lucius that he never had a daughter, only you. It broke Narcissa's heart, but she was trapped. Voldemort threatened to kill you if she ever left Lucius. There is a secret at the manor, Draco. That's why I think your dreaming about the little girl. She must be your sister."
Draco's head spun around as he tried to think clearly, digesting all that James had just said. He tried to talk, to utter a sound that would just break the horrible silence around him, but he couldn't get his voice to speak. Finally, he managed to blurt out the first thing that came to his mind.
"How come no one ever told me?" he tried to rephrase it better. "Didn't they think I had the right to know?"
"They tried, but your mother wouldn't let them. She was afraid that you might have been cursed with the thought of your sister over your head, and that you would reach the same fate. And, of course, your father refused to believe anything said about a daughter that he'd had. What could be done?"
"But, wouldn't some-one from Hogwarts known? Couldn't they have told me or something?"
"Everyone who knew was sworn to secrecy, Draco."
"But…" Draco trailed off as he stared out the window, the stars glistening in the dark blue sky. He breathed deeply. "What was her name?"
"Her name? Her name was Siria."
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Draco rubbed the heel of his hands against his eyes, trying to keep awake. What James had told him the night before hadn't helped his inability to sleep at all. In fact, now, instead of just worrying about James, Snape and the dead body, he couldn't stop thinking about his dead sister.
"Draco?" a soft voice said.
He turned around and stared at Ginny, her pale face tight with worry.
"What?" he turned back to his breakfast. He'd forgotten about this problem.
"Um-can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, what?" he replied, irritated.
"Not here, in, uh, private," she glanced warily at Pansy who was eyeing daggers at her.
"That's suggestive. Not too long, okay. I'm busy," he muttered as he stood up, following her out of the room. He glanced back and saw James standing behind Harry, gazing down at him lovingly. He figured he was safe.
"What?" he asked as soon as they were out the door.
"Your vocabulary amazes me, you know that? I mean, can you say anything other than what?"
"No. Now what do you want?" he snapped.
"Well, I need to ask you to do me a huge favour. I heard all about your detentions for throwing frog legs stolen from Snape's office around your commonroom, and I was just wondering if, well, you know, you could steal some stuff for me."
"What do I get in return?" he asked.
"Nothing, but please, I really, really need this thing."
"What for? I hope it's not some love potion your making for Harry or anything."
"No," she blushed furiously. "It's for something else, something you don't need to know about. Now, will you get me the stuff or not?"
"Okay," he sighed. "What is it?" She slipped a piece of parchment out of her pocket and placed it into his before running out of the room before Draco could say anything.
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Draco fell onto his bed as he walked in after finishing his detention (scrubbing three bathrooms with no magic and a toothbrush). He groaned and started to change into his pyjamas. As soon as he was dressed, he sat down on the bed and pulled out the book he'd borrowed from the library on Krillic curses. He read every page over and over, trying to find out an answer, something to help solve his problem with James (who was currently in Snape's office trying to steal three ounces of kneaval tongue for Ginny). After finding nothing, he sighed and dropped the book, picking up his father's diary that his mother had sent to him. He reread the one and only passage his father had written, trying to make some sense out of the slightly hysterical words. Again, he looked through the book on the bed after finding nothing. He opened the trunk at the end of the bed and placed the two books in there. His eyes caught sight of the corner of the Daily Prophet that his mother had wrapped his package in. It then came to him. Newspapers would give him answers. All he had to do was go to a library that kept records of them and find the one that reported his sister's disappearance. What was it that James had said? '…There was mayhem all over magical England.' There was sure to be an article of some sort on his sister.
Excitedly, he opened the covers and slid in, falling asleep quickly, his fatigue overpowering the excitement he felt.
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A week later
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It was if luck was shining on him that week. Spurred on by the excitement of finding some leads on his sister, he'd managed to finish all his assignments, give Ginny the potion she'd asked for without any hassle and he found out that there was going to be a trip to Hogsmeade that weekend.
He was there now, making his way over to the large library near the edge of the town. He entered the musty room, choking on the sound smell of damp, old books. He walked towards the librarian before pausing, staring at the large sign that read newspaper a couple of aisles away. Perhaps it would be easier and more discreet if he found the article by himself. He nodded and walked over to the stand. He'd already figured that it must have been 1984, around May sometime, as that was his birthday, May 29th and she'd disappeared just before he was born. He picked up a reference sheet and found the papers he was looking for, kept in top condition by some sort of magic. He picked up May the first and began to read.
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Two hours later
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Finally, he'd found it. May 18th, 1984. The front page, with its large headline, had a photo of his parents on it, tears silently falling down his mother's face. He moved it closer to his face and began to read.
MAYHEM has struck England on all accounts with the kidnapping and presumed death of the child of what is suspected to be He-Who-Must-Not- Be-Named's most loyal follower
Three-year-old Siria Malfoy, whose father Lucius Malfoy is one of the most notoriously known men in all of magical England. He is thought to be You-Know-Who's most loyal follower and greatest believer. Accusations are not enough, however, and there is no evidence at all, really, to suggest that he is indeed guilty of being a co-conspirator of the alliance formed by the Dark Lord.
Siria Malfoy went missing from the Malfoy Manor in secluded forest last night, during a party thrown by parents. Her parents did not realise she was gone from her bedroom until ten thirty that night, after her mother checked on her, only to find her gone.
What happened then is unknown, as Ministry Officials have not found any traces of intruders, magic or burglary gone wrong. The only lead that the Ministry has is that Siria may have known her kidnapper and followed him, or her, willingly.
Narcissa Malfoy, who is pregnant with her next child, is said to be in a critical nervous condition, lapsing in and out of consciousness. Lucius has denied talking to the Daily Prophet, instead staying by his wife's bedside as she tries to regain herself.
Friends of the family are said to be absolutely devastated by what has happened, recalling Siria as a beautiful, happy child. Many send out their love and comfort to the Malfoys, saying that Siria did not deserve what had happened to her.
The Ministry of magic has declined saying anything, only stating that they have the top officers working on the case.
Continued inside.
Draco quickly turned the page- only to find it had been ripped out. He cursed, and he realised, then and there, that someone knew what he was doing.
Draco stared out the commonroom window, his gaze sweeping over the large green field that led down to the cluster of trees that formed the Forbidden Forest. The sky was full of thick clouds, a strange purple colour. They were heavy with rain, ready to burst open. He sighed and tapped his quill impatiently on the table, splashing bits of bright green ink on the parchment that lay before him.
"What are you doing?" James asked nonchalantly, his hands full of what looked like a bunch of frog legs.
"Homework. What's in your hand?" Draco asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as James tossed one of the things into the air.
"Oh, just some frog legs I stole from the Potions room," James said, before aiming one towards Pansy. It hit her on the head, falling to the ground as she turned around. She took one look at it before screaming in utter fear, rubbing her head violently.
"Stop it," Draco hissed loudly as James began to throw the legs at other people. Soon, the commonroom was alive with the sound of screams as everyone ducked the flying legs.
"James, stop it!" Draco yelled loudly, knowing that he couldn't be heard over the high-pitched squeals. James smiled crookedly and turned around.
"What's the matter Draccy-Waccy? Don't you like having fun? I mean, come on! This is so boring. Why don't you escape through a secret passage way or something? You know, be exciting for a change," James said, looking seriously at Draco. "There is only so much room in life for study and…work, you know."
Draco sighed and rubbed his head in frustration. For the past three nights, he'd been racking his brain, trying to figure out a way to reverse the curse and send James back to the land of the dead. On top of that, he still couldn't forget Snape's words the night he'd brought James back. He knew the other voice was distinctly familiar, it's clipped tone recognisable. If only he had dared to look, to peek out from under the table to see who the other man was…
With a start, Draco realised that the room had suddenly gone ominously quiet. He looked up and stared around at the Slytherin's, bewildered at their frightened faces. Slowly, he turned around, dreading the outcome. He could tell from the looks on the faces of the other Slytherins that he was going to be in big trouble. And from the ugly look on Snape's face that greeted him when he turned, he knew that it would be serious stuff.
א
It was dark, the cold penetrating through his skin as he trembled in his hiding spot, ferns brushing against his bare back as he tried to move and stretch his muscles without making any noise. He could hear the breathing, deep and coarse, behind him and fingers scratching his back, leaving bloody trails where they had been. He could feel no more pain, his body immune to the piercing stabs. He looked down at his legs, blue with cold and tried to think clearly; where was he? How had he gotten here? More importantly, what was he doing here?
He heard a muffled groan from behind him and he turned to stare into the face a tiny girl, no older than three sleeping behind him. Her pyjamas were ripped and her lips were a cold, deathly blue. He moved trying to turn so he could see her more clearly. His fingers sunk into something soft and he pulled them out, examining them. With a start, he realised that they were stained red. Red with blood. He glanced down at the little girl again and noticed the blood staining her shirt. He realised she was dead, that her legs were as stiff as ice; she'd been dead for a long time.
But the muffled groan…
It was then that he realised that he and the dead girl were not alone.
א
Draco sat up quickly, his face damp with sweat as he breathed hard, fists clenched. He slowly gazed around the room, calming as he saw that he was in bed in the Slytherin dormitory. He stared out the window, the full moon shining brightly, casting eerie shadows across the floor.
"Can't sleep either?" a voice said from across the room. James stood up and walked over towards him, a glass of milk in his hand. "Sorry for getting you into trouble earlier on. Snape sure likes to hand out those detentions, doesn't he? Fancy getting three detentions for throwing frog legs around. I remember a time when Sirius and me bewitched a suit of armour to make it walk around covered in blood and we only got two detentions for that. Of course, they did write a letter to our parents but still…"
"How can I bloody sleep when I've got so much on my plate? First and foremost, I've got to find a way to fix up this problem with you, and now I can't stop worrying about what Snape and that other guy were talking about the night I brought you back from the dead. Do you know what I just dreamt about then? I dreamt I was in a forest with a dead girl and I kept hearing muffled groans. It must be some sort of sign, or something. I can't figure it out," Draco sighed, kneading his forehead with his knuckles trying to relieve some of the tension he felt.
James sighed and stood up.
"Life isn't always what you want it to be, Draco. Fate chooses the paths we take. I mean, who would ever have thought that a Malfoy would bring a Potter back to life, even if it was by accident. What are the odds of that happening?" he said, shaking Draco's shoulder, trying to crack a smile.
"I'm going to tell you something, Draco, that I'll probably regret telling you for the rest of my life…or death. It happened seventeen years ago, before you were born. I can remember it so clearly. Now, don't get me wrong, Lucuis Malfoy, your father, was always rotten to the core, no offence or anything. Anyway, I think that too many things just went wrong in his life and this was the last straw for him, or something."
"It was a Sunday, that I remember, and there was mayhem all throughout magical England. I know that no one ever told you this, but you once had a sister who, should she be alive, would be twenty years old. She was three when it happened. Well- there really is no easy way to tell you this, no matter how I say it, it comes out rude and uncaring. You see, she was kidnapped by Voldemort," to Draco's surprise, he didn't feel the familiar ripple of fear flow through him at the mention of his name. "Your mother was pregnant with you at the time, and as you can tell, she was so distressed, she fell into a coma. They never found your sister, and no one knows if she was killed or is still alive, living somewhere in London today. It sent your father into a frenzy, and many thought that he would give up his alliance with Voldemort."
"Yet something happened. No one knows what, exactly, but Voldemort managed to convince Lucius that he never had a daughter, only you. It broke Narcissa's heart, but she was trapped. Voldemort threatened to kill you if she ever left Lucius. There is a secret at the manor, Draco. That's why I think your dreaming about the little girl. She must be your sister."
Draco's head spun around as he tried to think clearly, digesting all that James had just said. He tried to talk, to utter a sound that would just break the horrible silence around him, but he couldn't get his voice to speak. Finally, he managed to blurt out the first thing that came to his mind.
"How come no one ever told me?" he tried to rephrase it better. "Didn't they think I had the right to know?"
"They tried, but your mother wouldn't let them. She was afraid that you might have been cursed with the thought of your sister over your head, and that you would reach the same fate. And, of course, your father refused to believe anything said about a daughter that he'd had. What could be done?"
"But, wouldn't some-one from Hogwarts known? Couldn't they have told me or something?"
"Everyone who knew was sworn to secrecy, Draco."
"But…" Draco trailed off as he stared out the window, the stars glistening in the dark blue sky. He breathed deeply. "What was her name?"
"Her name? Her name was Siria."
א
Draco rubbed the heel of his hands against his eyes, trying to keep awake. What James had told him the night before hadn't helped his inability to sleep at all. In fact, now, instead of just worrying about James, Snape and the dead body, he couldn't stop thinking about his dead sister.
"Draco?" a soft voice said.
He turned around and stared at Ginny, her pale face tight with worry.
"What?" he turned back to his breakfast. He'd forgotten about this problem.
"Um-can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, what?" he replied, irritated.
"Not here, in, uh, private," she glanced warily at Pansy who was eyeing daggers at her.
"That's suggestive. Not too long, okay. I'm busy," he muttered as he stood up, following her out of the room. He glanced back and saw James standing behind Harry, gazing down at him lovingly. He figured he was safe.
"What?" he asked as soon as they were out the door.
"Your vocabulary amazes me, you know that? I mean, can you say anything other than what?"
"No. Now what do you want?" he snapped.
"Well, I need to ask you to do me a huge favour. I heard all about your detentions for throwing frog legs stolen from Snape's office around your commonroom, and I was just wondering if, well, you know, you could steal some stuff for me."
"What do I get in return?" he asked.
"Nothing, but please, I really, really need this thing."
"What for? I hope it's not some love potion your making for Harry or anything."
"No," she blushed furiously. "It's for something else, something you don't need to know about. Now, will you get me the stuff or not?"
"Okay," he sighed. "What is it?" She slipped a piece of parchment out of her pocket and placed it into his before running out of the room before Draco could say anything.
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Draco fell onto his bed as he walked in after finishing his detention (scrubbing three bathrooms with no magic and a toothbrush). He groaned and started to change into his pyjamas. As soon as he was dressed, he sat down on the bed and pulled out the book he'd borrowed from the library on Krillic curses. He read every page over and over, trying to find out an answer, something to help solve his problem with James (who was currently in Snape's office trying to steal three ounces of kneaval tongue for Ginny). After finding nothing, he sighed and dropped the book, picking up his father's diary that his mother had sent to him. He reread the one and only passage his father had written, trying to make some sense out of the slightly hysterical words. Again, he looked through the book on the bed after finding nothing. He opened the trunk at the end of the bed and placed the two books in there. His eyes caught sight of the corner of the Daily Prophet that his mother had wrapped his package in. It then came to him. Newspapers would give him answers. All he had to do was go to a library that kept records of them and find the one that reported his sister's disappearance. What was it that James had said? '…There was mayhem all over magical England.' There was sure to be an article of some sort on his sister.
Excitedly, he opened the covers and slid in, falling asleep quickly, his fatigue overpowering the excitement he felt.
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A week later
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It was if luck was shining on him that week. Spurred on by the excitement of finding some leads on his sister, he'd managed to finish all his assignments, give Ginny the potion she'd asked for without any hassle and he found out that there was going to be a trip to Hogsmeade that weekend.
He was there now, making his way over to the large library near the edge of the town. He entered the musty room, choking on the sound smell of damp, old books. He walked towards the librarian before pausing, staring at the large sign that read newspaper a couple of aisles away. Perhaps it would be easier and more discreet if he found the article by himself. He nodded and walked over to the stand. He'd already figured that it must have been 1984, around May sometime, as that was his birthday, May 29th and she'd disappeared just before he was born. He picked up a reference sheet and found the papers he was looking for, kept in top condition by some sort of magic. He picked up May the first and began to read.
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Two hours later
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Finally, he'd found it. May 18th, 1984. The front page, with its large headline, had a photo of his parents on it, tears silently falling down his mother's face. He moved it closer to his face and began to read.
MAYHEM has struck England on all accounts with the kidnapping and presumed death of the child of what is suspected to be He-Who-Must-Not- Be-Named's most loyal follower
Three-year-old Siria Malfoy, whose father Lucius Malfoy is one of the most notoriously known men in all of magical England. He is thought to be You-Know-Who's most loyal follower and greatest believer. Accusations are not enough, however, and there is no evidence at all, really, to suggest that he is indeed guilty of being a co-conspirator of the alliance formed by the Dark Lord.
Siria Malfoy went missing from the Malfoy Manor in secluded forest last night, during a party thrown by parents. Her parents did not realise she was gone from her bedroom until ten thirty that night, after her mother checked on her, only to find her gone.
What happened then is unknown, as Ministry Officials have not found any traces of intruders, magic or burglary gone wrong. The only lead that the Ministry has is that Siria may have known her kidnapper and followed him, or her, willingly.
Narcissa Malfoy, who is pregnant with her next child, is said to be in a critical nervous condition, lapsing in and out of consciousness. Lucius has denied talking to the Daily Prophet, instead staying by his wife's bedside as she tries to regain herself.
Friends of the family are said to be absolutely devastated by what has happened, recalling Siria as a beautiful, happy child. Many send out their love and comfort to the Malfoys, saying that Siria did not deserve what had happened to her.
The Ministry of magic has declined saying anything, only stating that they have the top officers working on the case.
Continued inside.
Draco quickly turned the page- only to find it had been ripped out. He cursed, and he realised, then and there, that someone knew what he was doing.