Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, they still belong to the great JKR.
AN: Hi! Thank you Landry Anne, Sucker for Romance, Kay, Icyfire, Blanche Dubois, Deirdre Puney, LuckyDuck, Author LT, and of course, Hell's Hauntress, Magik and PinkDiaryGirl for reviewing for chapter one ;)
Please be patient with me for a few chapters, Hermione and Draco won't be meeting yet. The first few chapters are mostly dedicated to the plot and building of characters. I'm trying not to make it too long and dragged out, but I think a good story needs a good plot because anything juicy comes out.
Chapter TwoDraco arrived precisely two seconds after he Apparated from the muggle warehouse. It was a dark, forested clearing area nearing Little Hangleton. The graveyard where the Dark Lord murdered his father was his favorite meeting place, for it was where he had given himself completely over to the Dark Arts.
Pulling on his mask from his pocket, Draco stepped into his place in the Inner Circle, second from the Lord's left side, and to the direct left of his father, Lucius. As soon as he did, the pain in his arm ceased. Draco gave a slight nod to Lucius on his right. Lucius returned the same way. A proud, full satisfaction filled him. He was worthy to be his father's equal.
Slowly the circle began to fill itself out as more Death Eaters Apparated in. The Dark Lord himself wasn't there yet, either that or he was invisible. Either way, he did not like to appear to be waiting for his servants.
There were about twenty or so Death Eaters who were in the Inner Circle, and about thirty in the second ring, not including Wormtail, the Lord's personal slave. Draco didn't know the full details of how Wormtail came to have that position, except that he was a criminal of whom the entire magical community thought to be dead. Also that Wormtail was a clumsy idiot whom the Dark Lord planned to dispose of now that there was no longer a shortage of Dark supporters.
Within a few minutes, the two circles were filled with black-hooded Death Eaters like himself. There were several Death-Eaters-in-training kneeling. Draco knew some of them from school – Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe – but he certainly didn't owe it to bring himself as low as to call them friends. It's been months and those idiots still haven't passed initiation, Draco thought with a sneer.
Draco also noticed from behind his hood that several of them had to be supported to stand. He knew some of these Death Eaters: Nott, Crabbe, and Tadris. They must still be injured, Draco realized. Obviously their skills aren't up to standard. There were about fifty Death Eaters in total, but most of them weren't really worthy of the honor.
Soon, a small wave of Dark energy flowed through Draco's body. Everyone else felt it, too and they all fell to their knees and bowed their heads.
The Dark Lord had arrived.
The strange negative energy emitted in his presence was so strong that one did not need to look to know where he stood. "We live only to serve you, My Lord," came the humble simultaneous murmur of the prostrating Death Eaters.
"Of course," he hissed. "My servants, my Death Eaters, arise."
Draco stood up, keeping his head bowed. He could see only the hem of the Lord's black robes draping over the dark grass. Everything was black, black, very, very black.
"My faithful Death Eaters, is it not a beautiful night?" the Dark Lord said lazily. He was very confident in his power, wasting time, giving even giving a small laugh at his own joke. Another murmur waved through the rows of hooded servants. No one dared give a proper answer of course.
The Dark Lord walked around the circle slowly, surveying the Death Eaters. "Our circle," he began, in hardly more than a whisper, "is complete again. The Lestranges," he gestured to a pair standing to his right, "are back after waiting so long in Azkaban for me." Draco saw the Lestranges, a married couple, bow humbly as the Dark Lord began to praise them and speak of their loyalty. Salina Lestrange was one of the only female Death Eaters.
"Severus!" he exclaimed, stopping at a Death Eater several spaces to Draco's left. "How kind of you to join us again, my good friend." He paused. "I don't believe I need to doubt your loyalty to me anymore, do I?"
"Never, my Lord," replied Severus Snape in a confident voice.
"Never?" he laughed. "I should hope not, Severus. Your decoy with Dumbledore provided useful information. May you never let me question your reliability."
"You will not, my Lord," Snape countered in a voice that was altogether humble yet fierce.
"Good, then." The Dark Lord walked towards Draco and Lucius. Draco stood up straighter to face him.
"Lucius, Draco, Malfoys senior and younger," he stated.
"My Lord."
Now that he was standing so close, Draco could see the ghostly white skin of the Dark Lord's snake-like neck and the slit-like mouth. Draco fought back a shudder. As fearful as is to be respected.
"I must say I am very pleased with your work, Draco…Lucius, your son holds great promise." Lucius murmured his thanks. "Yesss, this is very satisfying work. Draco, your organization last week at that muggle village was very well done. Any mishaps were managed, I presume. Regrettably, some of our number were injured," he waved nonchalantly at Nott, Crabbe and Tadris, "but a job well done. Now as the area is cleared, I shall be able to go myself…as for you, I shall expect no less from this father-and-son pair in the future."
Draco nodded a humble thanks before the Lord moved along to another matter. He caught a small nod of approval from Lucius and smiled to himself.
"Now, I believe, Tadris, you had something you wished to tell me," the Dark Lord was now addressing one of the Death Eaters suspended in the air by magic. A stifled cry and a thump told Draco that Argyll Tadris had lost his support and had fallen onto the grass.
"Y-yes, m-my Lord," he said, with an obvious effort. Draco lifted his head and saw that Tadris was trembling on the ground in pain. He had been in St. Mungo's for burn treatments when they had been summoned and really wasn't in good condition.
"I-I," he continued, "b-believe th-there w-was a-a-a-" The Dark Lord sighed impatiently, and within an incantation, and seemed to relieved Tadris of his physical pain.
"Th-thank you, My Lord! You are most generous –"
"Continue."
"Y-yes, of course. My Lord, on the night of the fire at Torchensend – the muggle village – at which I was there, with some others – there was a traitor among us…the girl, that girl, the one whom was our guide, that Chang girl, she did not help us, she left us –"
This seemed to catch the Lord's attention. "Are you sure?"
"Yes! I am completely sure of it! She sent us to the wrong house, where we were nearly burnt to death, I am completely sure that she is a traitor!"
"Enough. Wormtail," the Dark Lord turned to a whimpering figure cowering by a gravestone.
"Wormtail, I believe it was you who found this contact, was it not?"
Wormtail stuttered a few excuses, but to little effect. "She g-gave me very good information, my Lord, I was s-sure she was trustworthy…there must have been a mistake…"
"There was no mistake, my Lord!" Tadris cried. "She –"
"That is enough. Wormtail. This girl attended Hogwarts. Was she in Slytherin house?"
Wormtail stammered something inaudible.
"You used a spy not from Slytherin house? You did not bother to find out?" The Lord turned to Tadris. "Where is she now? Was she killed?"
Tadris seemed to swallow the words that he was planning to say. "I –"
"Did she get away?" came the icy tranquility of the Dark Lord's voice.
"I – she – I thought she had perished in the fire, I –"
"Punish them both. Lucius, you may have the honor, Cruciatus –"
"No, my Lord! There is more –" Tadris protested desperately, the fear rising in his voice.
"Are you interrupting me, Tadris?" the Dark Lord said lazily.
"NO! Never, I would never! I just wished to tell you, the vampires, they were there, too, caused a lot of trouble – " Tadris was speaking very quickly as to try to escape a possible sentence.
"Lucius, please have the honor of punishing Mr. Tadris and little Wormtail here," the Lord went on silkily. On Draco's right, Lucius stepped forward to follow orders. If Draco had been the sentimental type, he'd feel sorry for the two, pathetic as they were. The Dark Lord was losing his patience with Wormtail…it was only a matter of time before he executed him altogether.
"Vampires…" he rubbed his palms together thoughtfully, calmly ignoring the pleading of Tadris and Wormtail. He turned and addressed Draco. "Did you know about these… vampires?"
Draco knew exactly how to respond. "Yes, my Lord. But they posed little threat. I apologize for Tadris's foolishness." He let a little bit of his usual arrogance show into last sentence. It was mostly true; Draco had been able to operate without interference, but then again, he hadn't actually seen the vampires.
"Hmm," the Dark Lord stroked his long white fingers together. "I have been hearing about these vampires causing a nuisance to our plans. They are no threat – but still, a nuisance." He emphasized the words 'no threat' and slammed a fist into his palm. "Who are these vampires anyways? Vampires are only cursed blood-sucking corpses, easily taken down by a simple hex."
Without thinking, Draco blurted, "They're immortal."
The Dark Lord spun around to stare at the Death Eater who dared to interrupt. But he let it go.
"Yesss…immortal, if not…undead." He now sounded amused. "Damned to the night. I have not yet forgotten my own studies at Hogwarts, young master Malfoy," and he laughed, a high-pitched cackle that made hairs stand up on end. "But," he paused, "there must be a way to utilize this strange power. I have never met a real vampire face to face… but I have more power than before – thanks to young Harry Potter, who must be killed – there is no present need for any alliance with any magical creatures…" His lipless mouth paused. "Harlan Avery," turning to the Death Eater behind him. "I want you to find these…so-called vampires. Bring me back whatever intelligence you can collect. As for you, Draco. Find the Chang girl. If she is bold enough to try and trick Wormtail and Tadris – however stupid they are – she is a threat, and obviously not stupid enough to simple die as Tadris claims…find her…no doubt she is a traitor, but bring her back if you can, otherwise, kill her, it matters not…"
Draco was silent as the Dark Lord went on to speak with some of the other Death Eaters.
Then, finally, he finished talking about business matters. "Time for some entertainment. Shall we have some? I have an old friend I'm sure you'll all love to be re-acquainted to. Igor, please, come here…"
A trembling gray-haired wizard tied with ropes was pushed into the center of the circle. Draco recognized him as Igor Karkaroff, the former Headmaster at Durmstrang Institute, a foreign magic school. He had visited Hogwarts several years ago for a Triwizard Tournament. He was looking as scared as hell, his robes were damp and unwashed, his face was scabbed, unshaved and dirty…and he was groveling horribly, screaming for forgiveness and sobbing excuses.
"I believe Igor here has a circus routine to perform for us tonight," hissed the Dark Lord pitilessly. "Shall we have him swallow a sword? Balance knives in his eyes? Imperio!"
Evil, thought Draco. Karkaroff was being forced into doing humiliatingly back flips as the Death Eaters around him laughed. He could hear Wormtail and Tadris screaming some several dozen feet away, where Lucius was using the dreaded Cruciatus curse on him. Remorseless, pure evil. The true beauty of the Dark Arts.
Draco began to laugh along, too.
~
"Aurgh…" Hermione groaned and rubbed her temples roughly. She sat up off the small temporary bed set in one of the back rooms of the Diagon Alley post office. The sun was shining dustily through the windows. She didn't get much sleep the night before, after being to the church during their nightly round. She hadn't been able to get the image of the red and black roses placed there on the church steps out of her mind. The roses for the priest killed by a dark force the muggles couldn't explain. Vampires, she thought. Whatever.
Still, the day was new again, and the world looked a lot bright from this side of the sun.
A few feet away, Lavender murmured something in her sleep. It was still early. After sharing a dormitory with the same people for seven years, Hermione was still always the first up. She would have to be quiet.
A large ginger furball leapt stealthily up onto Hermione's lap.
"Morning, Crookshanks," Hermione whispered to her cat. She petted Crookshanks lovingly on his squashy head. He purred and snuggled into her robes. Great, Hermione thought. Did I fall asleep in my robes again? Hermione gently pushed Crookshanks off her lap and scooted under the bed expertly.
Pulling on soft slippers, Hermione transfigured her watch (5:03 a.m.) into her suitcase, which flumped softly onto her bed. She opened in and pulled out socks, a pair of cream-colored slacks and a pink halter-top. As an afterthought, she took out a pink and gray sweater. Most of the muggle clothing her parents sent her were too dressy for the cold weather, but she still found it more or less more practical than witch's robes.
Hermione crept outside of the room, stifled a yawn, and tiptoed into the bathroom. It was a small, windowless area designed originally for the employees. The sink was cracked and the shower was tiny. Hermione waved her wand a few times to light a magical candle and whiten the porcelain a little. She picked up a brush (Parvati's?) and a spray-can of Sleakeazy's. Her hair wasn't frizzy like it had been when she was younger, but it still took a bit of wrestling to get it smooth in the morning.
After a foamy face scrub with a specially charmed towel and a good tooth-brushing, Hermione changed out of her wrinkling dirty robes and into her clean outfit. She stopped to examine herself in the mirror. No zits…I think we're okay for today.
"You know, dear, a nice shower would do you well," offered the sink mirror.
"Not now, thanks. Work," Hermione said hurriedly, sounding slightly annoyed. She didn't smell that bad.
"Or a little make-up? There's a nice pink lipstick that'll suit you real cute right behind me here," the mirror coaxed hopefully.
Hermione rarely took the hassle to apply make-up, unless it was for a special occasion. Most of the stuff in the shelf were the essentials of Lavender, Parvati and Padma. She knew they wouldn't mind if she borrowed some…but aww, what was the point? Who was there to impress, anyways? Hermione rushed out of the bathroom without answering the mirror.
Hermione stepped inside the office from the back door. The sun was tickling the mellow wooden floorboards. It was still frosty, though. Hermione pointed a few Warming Spells in the air to soothe the cold. She plopped down behind the large wooden desk and tapped a locked drawer with her wand.
"Ouvrirum," she muttered, and it popped open.
Diagon Alley was pretty much deserted because of the war; most of the shop owners had moved back home to their families. The Leaky Cauldron and Gringotts, the goblin-operated bank (honestly, what did goblins have to fear?) were still open, but that was it. The post office was where Dumbledore allowed Hermione and the other Aurors to stay. They had to keep it operating and keep track of the post, sometimes even filtering it for information.
Carefully, Hermione took out a plain sealed envelope and slit open a side using a pocketknife she always carried in her pocket with her quill and ink. Inside was a thick stack of parchment – NEWT practice exam. Typical Hermione, she thought self-mockingly, thinking of what the others would say if they saw her. She knew even Harry and Ron, her best friends since their first-year, wouldn't be able to stop themselves from rolling their eyes. Ron especially, would've given her a hard lashing of the sarcastic tongue. He was the one who really couldn't get used to her work habits. Yeah, typical Hermione, doing final exams when there's a war going on.
But no matter. They didn't understand how utterly calming it was to immerse herself in her books, how supernaturally comforting it was. Hermione didn't have the qualities of the other girls in school: she wasn't much of a flirt and hardly knew how to attract boys in that way. Besides maybe a few dates, her love life wasn't very active. And why push it anyways?
But what about Ron? You had a chance with him! piped the unavoidably irritating voice in her head. And what about Ron?! She screamed back at it. Hermione shook her head and forced herself back to NEWTs.
Besides, Hermione had her grades. Maybe it would be all she could ever have, but at least it was more reliable than boys and beauty. So, anyways, Part One, present essay on the discussion of the innovations of Dirkwin Dindlewood…okay, think…Flying Charms, Levitating Spells…
A few minutes passed, and soon Hermione was scribbling away at the parchment with her eagle-quill, temporarily unaware of her surroundings. Discuss: the cause of a child with extremely low magical potential (more commonly known as a 'squib') born to a wizarding family is a genetic disorder called –
RINNGGG!! Hermione's attention suddenly turned to an alarm clock ringing on the wall. Six a.m. Suddenly, a swarm of owls swooped into the office, dropping their letters and packages onto the floor.
"Oh great," she said out loud and started to pick them off the floor. Normally, it was Seamus's job to take care of the owls. How does he do it? The owls were now screeching like mad, some settling onto their perches on the walls but some still dropping their packages. A small mountain of envelopes had piled up in the middle of the room with seconds.
"Okay, okay. Accio! Accio!" Hermione waved her wand at the envelopes and packages and started to guide them towards their respected bins. Most of them were flying properly towards the 'Local mail' and 'Long-distance' but one package zoomed towards her desk –
"Oh, damn," she cursed, as her inkbottle hit the floor with a smash onto the floor. "Reparo!" It fixed itself, but the ink was still spreading onto some of the mail. "Geez! Accio!" It flew to her hand. "Parchius!" she said to it, and the ink dried up.
Turning around, she started to send the other envelopes back into their boxes. The magically enhanced bins usually sorted themselves nicely, unless they couldn't read the addresses. One such package floated towards her.
Huh? Where's Sbane? Hermione wondered, frowning at the messy scrawl. Sbane, sbane…Spain? She started looking for her quill, while still holding the package. Papers fluttered around her desk as Hermione brushed them away in search of a writing utensil.
"Great, where'd it go?" she murmured to herself. She kneeled down to search under the desk and surrounded. "Huh?" Her eyes darted around the room in annoyance. She messed up her NEWT exam and walked all the way around the desk.
"You have it!" she shrieked suddenly at an owl. "Hey, give that back!" Hermione reached for the small owl, who was now squabbling madly and circling around the shelves. It reminded her acutely of Ron's owl Pigwidgeon. Hermione started chasing around it stupidly. "Great, just great," she muttered. She raised her wand in the air and yelled, "Accio quill!"
"Finally!" Hermione fixed the mistake on the envelope and set the post owl onto his perch.
Great, where was I? Another package with a wrong address floated towards her. She grabbed it. Arjinteena, arjinteena, Arg –
"Stop that!" Hermione dropped the package and started to try and pull two owls that were fighting, apart. The Great Horned owl was scratching her talons at a small barn owl that had stolen what looked like a small mouse. Grimacing, Hermione Summoned a box of Owl Treats over. Now all the owls started screeching madly.
"Shut up, or none of you will get any!" Hermione hissed at them. They instantly settled down, much like a classroom of toddlers. "Good," Hermione breathed. She started breaking some treats apart and distributing them.
"Morning, Herm," came a cheerful female voice from the back door. Hermione turned around to see Lavender Brown in a purple velour robe looking at her. Her hair was perfect and she looked as if she had slept forever. How can anyone wake up in the morning looking like that?
"Oh, well, hi, Lav…" Hermione said hastily.
Suddenly Lavender looked very tired as she saw Hermione's position in the room. "Damn, Hermione, do you have to be working at this time?"
Seamus Finnigan, also a fuzzy, blond-haired mess, joined Lavender at the door. He yawned widely. "Why are we up so early?" He eyed Hermione and the squawking owls warily.
"Herm, are you actually taking care of the owls now? It's six," he accused.
Hermione looked around the room slowly. "Well, they came in, and were really excited and everything…" she began defensively.
"That's because you were in here," Seamus said matter-of-factly. "Usually I don't feed them until at least eight. It's my job, remember?"
"Yeah, when normal people get out of bed." Lavender said with a laugh. She stepped over to the desk and looked at the practice NEWT's Hermione had been doing. Before Hermione could step in front of her –
"Oh my god, Hermione, what the hell were you doing?" Lavender's jaw dropped practically to the purple satin hem of her pretty robe. "Hermione, we are in a war! There is no school! You are doing NEWT's. We were out until one last night, how can you -"
"Huh?" Seamus walked over to the desk, too. He shook his head as he saw the brown envelope. He looked as though he was about to open his mouth and give her the same sort of tirade as Lavender had, but instead, stuck to a simple, "Typical Hermoine, doing final exams when there's a war going on."
Hermione rolled her eyes, laughed it off lightly and walked passed her gawking friends and into the back room. You know, the routine reaction.
"Morning, everyone," she said dryly to the others, who were just coming into the kitchen. They all murmured their greetings, as none of them were really awake yet. The kitchen wasn't really a kitchen, but a few chairs and a table placed in a storage area. Actually, all their rooms were only storage areas.
Parvati, Padma and Dean were currently assembled around, slurping half-heartedly on what looking like runny oatmeal.
"Hey, guess what Hermione was doing?" Lavender bounded into the room.
"Who wants eggs?" Hermione said loudly, clearing her throat.
"NEWT practice exams," Lavender said, sounding very amazed. "Isn't she just mad?"
"I do!" Dean said, putting down his spoon.
Hermione looked around at the dusty room. There were certainly no eggs to be seen. "How 'bout breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron?"
"I'm up for that," Padma said brightly, and she put down her spoon as well.
"Hermione, how can you do tests willingly at a time like this?" Lavender inquired, obviously caring more about Hermione doing practice exams than about eating.
"They were just essays," Hermione replied with a shrug. She took a packet of ground coffee from the table and poured started to boil water in a kettle using a magical, no-fuel fire.
"Just essays?" Parvati cut in incredulously. "But how do you do it? Is that why you drink so much coffee? No wonder, Herm, I could never find the energy to do all that…"
Hermione sighed. Padma and Dean grinned at her. Parvati and Lavender were really the flirty, gossipy who could talk on for hours. They were the type who could make a situation like Neville Longbottom's toad running away seem like the Rita Skeeter gossip scoop of the year. Padma, Parvati's Ravenclaw twin, was a lot calmer in comparison. She and Dean make a really good couple, Hermione decided. They were both balanced and thoughtful and very in love.
Hermione poured herself a mug of coffee and set out the fire. Seamus came in and struck up a conversation with Parvati and Lavender, something about using his razor and sharing a bathroom with girls. Soon they had directed their attention to him and were giggling and flirting fiercely – typical before-we-have-to-worry-about-work conversation. Padma and Dean were talking quietly, Dean's arm gently touching Padma's waist.
Hermione sipped slowly on the hot coffee. She missed having proper breakfast. Her own mother's hot apple pie, Mrs. Weasley's indulgent egg-and-sausage when she visited the Weasleys in the summer, cinnamon pancakes and waffles with butter at Hogwarts…
Breakfast at Hogwarts then reminded her of Harry and Ron. Sure, the Gryffindors and Padma were Hermione's friends, but it wasn't really the same as Harry and Ron. After all, the three of them were The Trio. She thought back to the last memory of breakfast she had with them, on that last day in Hogwarts. The grand hall had been filled with students and teachers saying last-minute emotional farewells to each other. The house-elves had outdone themselves, with the tables laid with everything from toast drowned in berries and syrup to apple crisps to sausages to creamy scrambled eggs to fried tomatoes and bacon…
But even more than the food, Hermione remembered the way Harry and Ron promised that they would always be friends. Harry's green eyes and Ron's brown ones were strangely clear, showing more genuine love than they had ever shown before. She herself was holding back her tears as she held their hands and hugged them both.
It was Harry's fault now that they were apart. Dumbledore wanted him isolated for his own safety, even if he did continue work abroad, but Harry wanted to have at least having one companion with him as he went into hiding. Hermione suspected it was out of sexism that Harry didn't insist on bringing her too, which was just stupid, of course, she was just as capable as Ron…but Dumbledore didn't object…and now Hermione didn't even know Harry and Ron's location, in case she got interrogated with Veritaserum. It wasn't fair.
A lot of things are unfair, she thought. Hermione drained her coffee. Beside her, Dean was planting soft kisses on Padma's lips.
"So!" she announced loudly, letting the mug hit the table with a rude thwack. "Are we all ready for work today?" She stood up to administer the others' attention. Dean and Padma snapped out of their lovers' trance, and Lavender and Parvati stopped giggling with Seamus. Gee, sorry for waking you all up. "Let's get to work! What about that letter to Dumbledore we were going to send?"
~
AN: Nope, still not much excitement. A little more will happen in the next chapter, which will be centered mainly on Hermione. Actually, chapters 2 and 3 were originally meant to be one chapter, but I decided to split them up. Don't give up on me!!!
