Broken

By Stellar

2003

*Chapter Three: Rain*



The train came to a halt, so did some very vehement and furious thoughts about one particular Slytherin that kept popping into Hermione Granger's mind. They had taken their positions in the front of the train, patiently awaiting the time in which they would file off the gleaming red steam engine to begin their first major duties as the Head Boy and Girl. Indeed, after several infuriating encounters with one impossible Draco Malfoy, it was enough to make Hermione resort to glaring at him at every moment possible, trying to subliminally send her messages of hate to the insufferable git that she was supposed to spend the next year of her life rooming with. The mere thought of the ominous year ahead of her with one Draco Malfoy sent Hermione into waves of hatred, fury, and indigent self-pitying. But, she thought, brushing a stray strand of bushy, curly brown hair from her face, there was no time for that. She was about to start her first true duty as Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had worked ridiculously hard to get to where she was, and she was not about to screw up on her first assignment of her honourable position owing to being distracted by thoughts of murdering Draco Malfoy, as pleasant as it may be. No, certainly not.

As Hermione huffed and threw obvious glares in his direction as they waited for the train to come to a complete stop, Draco Malfoy regarded Granger with a very pale, very blank face, just as he had been so trained to do. Show no emotion, wasn't that how it went? Draco almost snorted. Of course that was the way it went. He was a Malfoy, and....proud of it? He wasn't entirely sure anymore. Thoughts idle, he stared absently at Granger. After all, there was nothing better to do until the train stopped. It's not like she was as hideous as she had been in third year anymore.

He must have had a strange look on his face, for she glared at him, her brown eyes in absolute fury, like they normally were when she looked at him. "What?" she snapped, crossing her arms moodily.

He smirked. He loved pissing her off. "Nothing."

"You're such a prick, Malfoy," she huffed.

"Why, thank you, Granger," he said coolly, smiling as pleasantly as possible at her. She had a bit of a fight to her, that one. He remembered when she had slapped him in his third year. Brave, really, like the rest of her little friends... Sometimes they were brave to the point of being stupid. Rush in and save the day, Potter. Think not of your own hide. he mocked in his head. Gryffindors.... Always the first to leap into the line of danger and always the ones who needed the most rescuing.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She should have expected it. Of course there was no decency left in him; come to think of it, she was never sure that he had any decency to begin with. He always did hate her; that much would never change.

If Granger could read his mind as he leaned casually against the door of which they would soon be departing through, she would have surprisingly found that Draco Malfoy was actually thinking about her. No, not with the usual disdain for her exceedingly poor bloodlines, or for her bushy hair, or for the fact that she was always situated around those annoying Gryffindor favourites; but rather, his mind was taking her in distantly, completely out of touch from his conscious self. Hermione Granger, still with her bushy brown hair that curled very slightly into ringlets, still with her pallid skin colour, still with those dark brown eyes, and, as he was quick to notice, still with a book. Smirking, he eyed the book clutched tightly in her hands in all curiousity, wondering what the subject was. It was fairly small, leather-bound, like so many books, and was remarkably tattered... Draco's silver eyes brushed over the spine of the book, making to read it, and was slightly surprised at what the words formed in a delicate silver text: Hermione A. Granger. So, a diary, is it? he thought, in all honesty amused at the prospect that there was a slightly less studious aspect about the girl in front of him. Wonder what she's got written in that thing? A flash of two boys came quickly to him: one tall, skinny, freckled, and with trademark red hair, the other with a messy black mop atop his head, round, black-framed glasses, and a legendary lightening bolt shaped scar. Of course, she would write about them. he scowled, though to no one in particular.

His roaming thoughts shifted around when the Hogwarts Express finally stopped. He quickly stepped out of his amusement and straightened himself properly before reaching out a strong, pale hand to grasp the doorknob with ease, opening the door, and graciously stepping out to begin his first duty as Head Boy. Hermione Granger followed him, albeit she was still glaring at the back of his white-blonde head. He didn't seem to notice.



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



Ginny Weasely, who was approaching the section of the train that was her post, froze in her place as a sobbing Lavender Brown streaked down the corridor, her blonde ringlets trailing behind her. Well, that certainly wasn't normal. She perked up an eyebrow, thinking to herself. Really, Lavender had been very happy, overly so, ever since she and Ron had started dating. Then, slowly, she turned to look down the corridor and the puzzle pieces slowly came together in her mind.

Harry Potter was looking absolutely hopeless, backed up against the wall of the narrow hallway, his concerned green eyes focused on a heaving figure at the floor. As Ginny turned her head to look at the sobbing figure on the floor, the colour drained from her face. There, crumpled on the floor and leaning against a wall that offered no comfort, was Ronald Weasely, her brother, crying miserably, clutching a thin, delicate gold ring. Lavender's ring.

Oh, what had he done?

Ginny watched apprehensively as Harry crossed the narrow, carpeted walkway and tried to put a comforting, sympathetic arm around his best friend's shoulders. Suddenly, Ron let out an angry, anguished cry as he turned and drew up his strong, thick arm and hit Harry square in the chest, sending his best friend reeling over backwards and crashing into the hard wall behind him. Combined with both the force of Ron's blow and the final stop of the train, Harry Potter landed on the floor with a heavy thud, his glasses knocked askew on his chiseled face. Harry was in shock for a few seconds, catching his breath, before Ginny saw his brilliant green eyes turn cold and angry. Harry Potter drew himself up and glared down at Ron, who was still a sobbing wretch, dusted off his robes furiously, turned on his heel, and stalked past Ginny. She winced.

This was not good.

However, after living with Ron her entire life, Ginny knew better than to approach him when he was this upset. He was irrational when he was mad, scared, most of the time, really; he became careless in the face of his powerful emotions and began reacting without thinking. This was one of those times. Once she realized that the train had stopped, Ginny gave one last sad look at her older brother before jolting to do her duties. She would talk to him about it later.



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



Draco looked on in a rather bored manner over the sea of Hogwarts students that were pouring out of the train and into the cold, unrelenting rain as he signaled them on towards the carriages. It was a rather depressing, really, to see so many young people whose families and friends had perished in the last two years as the war between good an evil had begun, filing out fairly silently into the cold, drenching rain that was pounding down mercilessly from a gray, unforgiving sky.

He looked up at the sky slowly to muse to himself, something he did quite often on days like this. It was eerie, he thought, how it seemed that the sky served as a symbol of the evil that had been reigning down on the wizarding world for the last two years, and the wizards and witches below it marched drearily on, silent in their slow overtaking, oppressed beyond natural belief by fear, save for a select few. Draco regarded the thought for a second before shrugging it off. It didn't matter to him. He was on the winning side, either way he looked at it. Currently, the son of a Death Eater most loyal to the Dark Lord, he would be rewarded beyond his dreams if the Dark Lord won. If not, he had enough money and honour left in his name that no one would bother him, and if they choose to, he could play off his father, saying that he lived a very oppressed childhood and his father forced him to be loyal to the Dark Lord, all out of the hope that someday his cruel father would love him. The thought of it stung him harshly, for it was all true, especially the last part, and he knew it. He had admitted it to himself several times now. Well, maybe it did matter, a little bit. Maybe.

He turned his face upward for a moment, the drops of rain slickly sliding down his pale, pointed features, drenching his white-blonde hair, trailing down in small, nearly invisible but still significant trails onto his black robes. It had been raining on Draco Malfoy for years. He closed his silver-gray eyes, for they reflected the sky that he did not want to be a part of. He did not move. He stood there, pale, drenched, eyes lightly closed, with tones of gray playing on his features, mimicking the cruel sky above. For the first time in seventeen long years, he let his guard down. For the first time in seventeen long years, he let the weight of his life bear down on him. Scenes of his childhood flashed behind his closed eyelids...





Mummy, playing with him in their garden, laughing as he tried to curse toads.

Sitting on Daddy's knee as he read The Daily Prophet. He peered over the edge of the paper, trying to eye it importantly like his father, even though he was only three and couldn't yet read.

Mummy sitting on his bed, smiling and laughing as she read stories to her son.

Daddy pacing the drawing room, lecturing him on the difference between purebloods and muggle-borns. Correction, mudbloods.

Daddy, kissing his forehead for the only time in his entire life, the day he first called a muggle-born a mudblood to their face, making them cry. He was only five.

Playing in the hallway outside Daddy's room, finally managing to hex a spider so that it danced with all eight legs. So proud, he practically waltzed into his daddy's room to show him his handiwork. Daddy, hunched over by a fire talking to someone, clutching his left forearm, an ugly scar of a skull and snake. Daddy, screaming at him to get out. Daddy, hitting him on his head, hard. That was the day Daddy became Father.

Mummy, cleaning his cuts formally, not speaking, her lips pursed in a thin line.

Father, glaring down at him when asked for a hug after Mummy yelled at him for interrupting her.

Father, saying he was weak.

Father, saying he was useless.

Father, saying he was a waste to the family name.

Mummy, agreeing with him.

Father, hitting him, telling him to live up to his name, his duty, you worthless slime, what's wrong with you.

Mother, scolding at him for being inconsiderate towards Father.

Mother, "We love you when you're perfect."

Not perfect. You are not perfect. They don't love you. You are not perfect.

Curled up on the windowsill, looking at the rain. Blinking absently, wishing the rain were tears running down his cheeks.

Don't cry. You are weak. You are useless. You are a waste of the family name. Depression. Don't cry. Not crying. Show no emotion, show no emotion, show no emotion....

God, it had been raining for so long.



Some fifteen feet away from him, Hermione Granger channeled the students above first year to the carriages as the new students followed the enormous figure of Rubeus Hagrid. She was straining on her toes to look over the mass of students for Harry and Ron, which wasn't working very well. While Harry and Ron had grown considerably, she had remained fairly short, much to her dismay. Finally, just when she was about to give up, she spotted Harry, who was, she was surprised to see, without Ron and with a very emotionless face. He must have spotted her, though, for his features brightened and his eyes lit up in recognition quickly as he glanced in her direction. He started calmly weaving around students to make his way to her.

"Harry!" she called out, though quite unnecessarily. He was only ten feet from her now, looking at her dead on.

Finally, he had made his way to her and smiled in her presence. Hermione immediately flung her arms around her best friend, nearly knocking him off balance. He gratefully hugged her back. When they broke apart, Harry smiled down at her. "Feeling better, are we?"he asked, ruffling her hair affectionately, even though it was creating even more knots in her bushy hair. He seemed unusually happy this term, having come back from a good time at the Burrow.

She grinned and nodded. "I'm not going to let Malfoy get to me this year," she said decisively, but she wasn't so sure that would be the case. He had a way of crawling under her skin sometimes. She shrugged it off. "How's Ron?"

Harry eyes darkened. "Horrible," he said earnestly. "Lavender found out."

Hermione's eyes immediately widened. "Lavender! Oh, I had forgotten!" she said, reality dawning on her features.

Harry nodded, suddenly looking shifty. Students began walking around him, and Hermione tried her best to usher them on during the conversation. Harry seemed to be recalling the previous events in his mind, shuddering every so often as he gave Hermione a synopsis of what had occurred when Lavender Brown had arrived to the compartment. "It was awful," he concluded. "Ron's a mess, as is Lavender. She broke it off. Ron's furious with himself."

Hermione wanted to hug Ron, but as he was not present, she couldn't. "Where's Ron now?"

Harry shrugged. "Last I saw he was still on the train. He was crying, hitting the wall...." he paused before looking Hermione in the eye. "He hit me."

Hermione's hand predictably flew to her mouth as she gasped, "Why? What happened?"

Harry ran a hand through his wet, messy black hair. "I dunno.... He was just crouched on the ground crying. I tried to comfort him, put my arm around him like I do when you cry... He just hit me in the chest, flung me off of him. You know how he gets when he's upset. Irrational and all..." he trailed off.

Hermione nodded understandingly. "Well, it doesn't stop the fact that I'm going to have a talk to him tonight. He might be upset and all, but he's got no right to hit you, Harry. He needs to learn how to control himself."

Harry nodded. "Ginny probably will talk to him too. She saw some of it happen, but I don't know how much of it," he said.

There was an awkward pause. Harry wasn't sure if he should tell Hermione what Ron had told him. He wasn't sure what Hermione would do if she knew it was unprotected... She was mad enough that he had sex with Pansy, was terrified enough that he had cheated on Lavender, but Harry thought it should be best left to Ron's discretion as to who should know and when. He changed the subject. "So, Head Girl this year, eh?" he smiled.

Hermione beamed up at him. "Yeah. I was so surprised when I got the letter in the post....I just couldn't-"

Harry punched her arm affectionately. "C`mon, now, you must've expected it. You've been at the top of our entire class since you first stepped foot in Hogwarts!" he teased.

"But really, I didn't-"

"Liar," he challenged jokingly.

"Well, maybe..Maybe just a little bit," she laughed.

Harry crossed his arms jovially, and raised his eyebrows disbelievingly.

A small smile formed on her lips. "Well, ok, I knew..."

Harry merely grinned in triumph. "Told you so," he said knowingly. "Hey, were's the ferret? Isn't he Head Boy?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, unfortunately he is. He's supposed to be helping me move everyone into the carriages, but I haven't seen him since we stepped off the train," she said. "Useless git," she added for emphasis, crossing her arms. She began to look for him, quite hopelessly, as she was looking in the wrong direction.

"There he is," said Harry, pointing to a spot in the crowd behind her.

Hermione whipped around, her brown, bushy hair that was even more untamable in the rain flinging out behind her, her mouth opening to yell at her nemesis, scolding him for not attempting to control the outpour of students eagerly awaiting to get in the carriages and out of the rain. but the sight before her eyes stopped her abruptly. There stood Draco Malfoy standing out in stark comparison to the bleak sea of Hogwarts students. Only, this was not the Malfoy she knew. He stood still, almost calmly, rain gliding silently down his every feature, his eyes closed, relaxed. There was no trace of prejudice, no trace of biting insults, no trace of arrogance, no trace of money, no trace of hatred, nothing more than a pained expression on his pale features. He seemed so forlorn, so helpless, so burdened with life...

He seemed so.... vulnerable.

Rain was now pouring down Hermione's unruly mane of tangled, bushy brown hair, but she didn't even notice. She was in a kind of trance, staring at this man who seemed, in so many ways now, very much still a boy. Admitted, a boy with many burdens in life, many regrets, one who had been forced from an early age to be a man. It struck Hermione now that, in all possibility, that Malfoy did not have much of a childhood to reminisce on under the province of his cruel, hate-ridden father. Forgetting that Harry was standing next to her, tears sprung in her eyes, why, she was not sure, but she did not blink them back. Two tears slid shamelessly down her slightly flushed and already-wet cheeks. For the first time in her life, she felt sorry for him.

She stood in the rain, Harry Potter next to her, and all she could think about was her enemy, Draco Malfoy. She was being ridiculous. Ridiculous, right? Right then. She practically marched up to Malfoy in determination, Harry automatically trailing behind her for protection.

"Malfoy, get a move on. We've got a job to do, you know," she barked much more harshly than she meant.

He didn't open his eyes. He was rooted in place, lost in his thought, emotions he had never allowed himself to feel swelling inside him.

Hermione reached out a hand and laid it on his shoulder, ready to shake him back to their surroundings.

Draco's eyes immediately snapped open, silver eyes glinting angrily at her. "Get your filthy hand off me, mudblood!" he screamed.

Hermione jumped, taken back by his sudden change of emotion and appearance. She retreated her hand quickly

Harry immediately stepped forward, wasting no time. "Don't call her that! She didn't do anything to you," he snapped, hovering next to his best friend possessively.

"What, Potter? Come to save the day again? She's quite old enough to defend herself now, you know, or are you just playing the brave boyfriend act again?" he sneered, looking down at Harry a solid four inches in absolute disdain. "Ta, ta, Granger. I'll be seeing you later. Quite looking forward to it," he said snidely, slipping in a rather obvious innuendo just to piss the great Harry Potter off as he turned sharply on his expensive Italian leather heel and stalk off, bellowing for all students who were not first years to follow him. She was a bit shaken at his aggressiveness, but really, she knew that she shouldn't be. Malfoy had always been like that. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself.

Harry glared at the retreating Malfoy's back for a few solid seconds before turning back to Hermione, his eyes immediately filling with concern. "He's such a prat. Don't pay him any attention, all right?" he said, searching Hermione's fairly pale face for an answer.

She nodded numbly.

Harry's eyebrows knitted together. "You okay, 'Mione?" he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders, which were shaking from the cold, biting air.

Hermione smiled. He was so wonderful. So concerned for her own being that he didn't even think of his own, or at least not often. That was what made Harry Potter great in her eyes. The lack of ego. The genuine caring. Despite the papers buzzing with untrue rumors, despite the fact that many in the wizard world despised him, despite girls falling over him, despite his burdens in life-- he was still human. She smiled up at him. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine, Harry. Thank you."

He smiled back. "Good. Now, let's get these people in their carriages, shall we?"

Some twenty feet ahead of the two friends stood Draco Malfoy, menacing as ever, roughly shouting at students to follow him to the carriages, and taking the time to insult those whom he noticed were not paying attention to him. While his mouth was harshly running a mile a minute, his thoughts were completely separate from his actions. The emotion that had been building up inside of Draco Malfoy as he let his thoughts linger in his mind was becoming too powerful for him to think about, to handle, to control, and he had let it out on Granger. He shouldn't care, he really shouldn't, but he did. He had let a part of it out, he had let part of himself out. He felt uncharacteristically vulnerable. After years of hidden suffering, he was beginning to break down, he was beginning to turn into his father. He was beginning to become hate. And Granger had a glimpse of it, what he had been so careful to hide, his emotions, his pain, a whole lifetime of suffering. It's raining. It's still raining. With great effort, he pushed it out of his mind as students began to follow him to the carriages. He strode on with quick, powerful strides, keeping his head higher than mudblood Granger's in as much dignity as he could muster, his Head Boy badge gleaming blearily, his overbearing thoughts pushed out of sight, his back straight with as much pride as he could humanly allow with a broken boy crying inside of him. It was still raining, but no one but him could tell. He was a Malfoy. His father would have been proud.





*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



Parvati Patil was officially pissed off. She sat rigidly in her carriage, her dark brown hair in a neat plait, make-up in perfect place, anger steadily boiling up inside her as she listened to the miserable sobs that echoed around the circular carriage. The sound was coming from her best friend, Lavender Brown, who had her pretty blonde head on Parvati's shoulder as she cried, and in the process, further drenching the side of Parvati's school robes. Neville Longbottom sat across from them, somewhat nervous, wringing his hands idly. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable in the presence of the two of them, especially since one was crying and one was obviously seething with anger.

Parvati, noticing this, tried to smile at him apologetically, sorry troubling him, but it flittered across her face as a sort of angry grimace, for Neville whimpered and flattened himself up against the white wall of the carriage, drawing back as much as possible, and started petting his pet toad, Trevor, a bit too quickly in his nervousness. Since the end of their fifth year, when Neville and some fellow Gryffindors had a row with a deal of fiercely loyal and vicious Death Eaters, Neville had become a stronger person, more determined and brave than he had before. However, in the face of two pretty girls, he was rendered helpless.

Neville, much to his dismay, was quite literally thrown in the carriage by Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be in a particularly bad mood today. Neville had hoped to be in a compartment with Ron, Harry, Hermione, or even Luna Lovegood. He didn't chose to be with the two girls, as nice as they could be, he just felt uncomfortable around them. Parvati felt a fleeting pang of pity for him, but her anger soon returned, and she was imagining doing several very violent things to one Ronald Weasely.

Well, this is it, she decided. This is the end of Ron Weasely. How dare he do this to Lavender? He had promised to marry her! She had worn his ring! And he cheated on her for....that...that....that Slytherin THING?! Parvati huffed to herself. What an ass.

She focused on the crying heap that was Lavender. "Lav, Lav.... It'll be all right. Ron will pay for what he has done," she said in what she thought was a comforting manor, patting her best friend on the head.

Lavender nearly choked on her own sobs. She suddenly looked up at Parvati, her watery eyes blinking wildly, causing even more tears to fall down her face, which held a disbelieving expression. "W-what? What? Parvati, no!"she exclaimed, horrified.

Neville whimpered from his feeble position against the wall, imagining what the girl had in store for his good friend, Ron; also, he was now intrigued as to what Ron had done. Unbeknownst to Neville, who had been in one of the first few compartments playing a game of wizard's chess with Justin Finch-Fletchly and Colin and Dennis Creev, Ron and Lavender had indeed severed ties, and Neville was left oblivious to it. Now, braving to lean slightly forward, he listened to Parvati and Lavender talk in whispers, but keeping his eyes locked on his toad as he petted the slick skin.

Parvati looked down at Lavender, who was still curled against her shoulder, and said, "Why not? He should pay for what he's done. He cheated on you, Lavender, with a Slytherin, remember? He deserves it," she whispered harshly.

"But...." Lavender began, unsure of what to say. Her eyebrows knitted as she tried to find the best possible wording. Finally, she decided on: "Parvati, even though Ron did all of those horrible things, I don't want you to do anything bad. Yes, he did let me down, but I think that he felt very guilty about it, honestly. Knowing Ron, his guilt will be more than enough punishment. Please don't do anything to him," she said, her voice wavering through her tears. She drew in a shaky breath and looked her best friend right in the eyes. "I still love him, Par, I really do."

Parvati Patil eyed the blonde sternly, trying to make up her mind between wringing Ron's neck, cursing him, or torturing him; however, she did not enlighten Lavender upon her thoughts. Instead, making up her mind, she let a soft, deceiving smile play on her features. "I'll try not to, Lavender."

"Promise?" Lavender pleaded.

Parvati nodded quickly before turning her head to look out the window and across the cold, dark grey terrain. It was nearly nightfall now. Lavender shuffled beside her, pulling Witch Weekly out of a fashionable purse before flipping idly through the pages. It was silent. Neville kept to himself, keeping his eyes fixed on his toad, which he was still petting rigorously. Now, this wasn't his normal thing, but in this case, in the case of one of his very good friends, he had to tell.

Parvati, wishing to change the subject in Lavender's mind, crossed her arms angrily. "What the hell is taking so long? The carriages haven't moved!"

Lavender's eyebrows knitted together. "You're right. We haven't moved. What's going on?"





*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



Unknown to her, Lavender's lost love was the source of the hold up with the carriages. Ron Weasely sat in a carriage, quite alone, looking sullenly out of the window, idly watching the dark clouds swirl angrily across the sky, looking like some terrible doom looming over the first years that were crossing the lake in their little rowboats. Having forced everyone out that Draco Malfoy had practically thrown into his carriage, he was, as he wanted to be, alone. Of course, Malfoy had put up quite a fight, yelling and threatening him when he refused to have anyone share the carriage with him. He demanded that he be left alone, so Malfoy had taken to literally picking up students, throwing them in the carriage, slamming the door shut, and instantly putting his back up against it to prevent Weasely from opening the door and pushing the poor students out. While doing this, Malfoy shouted through the door at Ron.

"Weasely! This is no time to fuck around! We're running out of carriages, and yours is the only one left that has room!" he had screamed.

Ron had totally ignored Malfoy's insistence. Instead, he had opened the window and ushered the students out, opposite from where Malfoy was angrily barring the door. Once Malfoy had figured this out, he had opened the door, himself dripping wet with the cold rain outside, a look of absolute fury painted on his face. "Fine, Weasel," he spat, glaring. "I will take this matter to McGonagall, you can count on it. Losing points for your house on the first day never gets back the girlfriend who left you, Weasely." He slammed the carriage door. Malfoy stocked off into the rain, no shoving the students who weren't into a carriage quickly into one.

Ron, now alone as he wished, crossed his arms sullenly. Of course, Malfoy would have known by now. He was always amongst the top of the list in the gossip chain at Hogwarts. Furthermore, it wasn't as if he and Lavender were quiet about the fight. Had he heard such a loud fight outside his compartment door, he would have taken a look too. Ron shook his head. He couldn't believe that he had let his temper slip from him when he was telling Lavender about the horror that he had done. Now, he was paying for it more than ever. Guilt and Shame were very nearly devouring him . The carriages finally started off towards Hogwarts.

He was no longer as furious as he had been, but had, in the past ten minutes, turned slowly over to the despair of depression. The notion of no longer having Lavender as his girlfriend, whom he had hoped to one day be his wife, hit him like a freight train. His broad shoulders sagged, feeling the pressing issue of the burden he had claimed. His sad blue eyes looked out over the fairly bleak terrain, made various shades of grey by the incessant rain. How he longed to take it back, take everything back, so he could be with Lavender again.

Ron was quite sure that there was no other being on earth that was as wonderful as Lavender Brown. In his eyes, she was the definition of perfect. She was undeniably beautiful. Lavender had long, slightly curly blonde hair. This hair seemed to be fairly normal to the human eye, but Ron knew better. How many times had he ran his hands through her hair, while he kissed her, while he teased her, when they embraced? Even though he thought his hand to no be worthy of such a splendorous thing, he had let his hands fall through her hair every day that they had been in each others presence, which was quite a lot. Her hair, like the rest of her, was a glorious thing: luscious, golden in colour, with curls so beautiful you had to look again just to make sure you hadn't imagined it, and, most importantly, it was silken, like the most expensive cloth money could buy, all in all completely intoxicating. Sometimes, when he ran his hands through her hair and she looked up at him, he thought his pauper hands to not be worthy of touching this expensive silken hair.

But Lavender didn't care that he was poor. He loved her for it, too. As he stared out the window, a now seemingly distant memory crept into his mind, an old passing in time, now apparently hollow. It had been a late night, a Saturday, in the Gryffindor common room. It was particularly quiet that evening, all of the student having retired to their beds, with only the snow and wind gently rapping at the windows to serve a sound to the silence of it all. However, in a fairly distant corner, two people, madly in love, were laying on a lavish red carpet next to a fire blazing in the hearth. The boy had his arm draped affectionately around the blonde girl, who was slowly, idly tracing a manicured finger over the embroidered gold leaves on the rug. She was smiling distantly, watching her fingers trace patterns in the rug, while her lover was staring at her with a sort of awe, caught up in their sweet moment.

"Lavender?" Ron asked, a troubling expression coming over his face as the silence broke. He did not take his arm off of her.

The blonde turned her pretty head and smiled at him, the firelight flickering contentedly in her deep blue eyes. "Yes?"she purred.

Ron looked troubled. His red eyebrows, whose very colour mimicked the fire before them, creased in uncertainty. It was obvious something was pressing on his mind. He took his time, however, and Lavender patiently waited, knowing that when he was fully ready, whatever was on his mind would be ushered forth. There was no point in trying to urge him, for he would become frustrated and angry. Lavender, understanding this, kept her smile and waited.

It took him a while to find the right words. They came out in a tumble, but he was relieved to finally get it out: "Lav, does it bother you that I'm poor?"

Lavender was shocked. Her smile waned for a small second, but she kept her gaze intently on him. "No, it doesn't bother me, Ron," she said.

Ron didn't seem to be satisfied with her answer. "Really? Are you sure? I mean, with your family...."he prompted.

Lavender almost wanted to hit him, but refrained. She loved him too much, honestly, to ever harm him intentionally. "I'm positive, Ron. Positive. My family may be well off, but it's you I want, not your money," she said before launching into a story.

She came from a wealthy family, pureblooded, and money was unnecessary to her. She had told him that for all of her life, she had been around rich wizards and witches, who flaunted their money at any given opportunity, trying to gain popular vote and the affections of others. It worked most of the time, really, except when it came to her. Lavender didn't care in the slightest about the money, really, but rather what kind of person was behind it. Ron believed every word of it, and he knew it all to be true; he trusted her. But this did not stop his mind from reeling, what if she was lying? Ron, despite what she had told him, still felt insecure in the issue of money, and he was not afraid to express it to her.

Lavender looked at him with an expression of deep care and concern. She paused for a moment, watching the firelight play across his face and hair. She lifted a hand to that flaming red hair she adored, and trailed a delicate finger from his hair to his forehead, nose, and lips before it finally came to rest at his freckled cheek. Ron relished in her every movement, loving the feel of her soft skin moving against his; his eyes fluttered closed, but quickly snapped open, not wanting to miss anything, and he found himself wishing to stay in this moment forever. Her voice finally stirred his thoughts. "Ron, I don't need money to make me happy. I have enough of it on my own; anymore would be pointless in having. We couldn't spend it in a lifetime. Ron, all I need is love; all I need is you," she said with finality.

Ron let out a happy and somewhat relieved sigh before bending down to kiss her chastely on her soft pink lips. Lavender, however, was apparently not at all pleased with this chaste little kiss, for she giggled quietly and immediately grabbed his red hair and pulled him towards her, forcing him to kiss her. He was more than happy to oblige...

One single tear slid down Ron Weasely's face. He made no move to wipe it, but instead looked sullenly out the window, laying his forehead against it and trying not to pay attention to the blistering cold that emanated from it.



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



Draco Malfoy crossed his arms moodily, glaring at the wall of the carriage that was behind Granger's bushy head. He had been silent since he entered the carriage with her, and Hermione Granger could clearly see that he was very angry about something. She had her eyebrow perked up quizzically, but her mouth remained shut, and wisely so. An angry man was a bad thing, but an angry Malfoy was a natural disaster.

Malfoy wanted to turn his attention to Granger, which made himself angrier than before, but stubbornly kept his glare on the wall. Hermione pulled a small leather-bound book out of her worn bag. Draco, upon noticing this, as he tore his eyes away from the wall and allowed them to focus on Granger, snorted and rolled his eyes. "Not even at school yet and already pulling out books, eh, Granger?" he said, sneering.

Hermione did not turn her head from her book, but looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Oh, no, Malfoy. It's not an educational book, exactly," she said easily, then reached in her bag for a quill. "It's a book I'm making."

Draco raised a silver eyebrow, intrigued as to what she was putting in the book. He caught a glimpse of the spine of the book, and was rewarded with the silver engravings of Hermione A. Granger. The diary on the train he registered. "So a diary, is it?"

She put her quill to a page and began writing in her neat and tidy script. "Not exactly, Malfoy," she said simply, completely intent on her writing.

Draco was now unusually curious. "Well, what's in it, then?" he asked, all notation of anger gone from his deep voice.

"What's it to you? You've never been interested on what I've done before, Malfoy," she said, now breaking her concentration on what she had been writing.

Draco frowned. "Of course I've taken interest in what you've done," he said simply, waving a dismissive hand.

Hermione looked up at him. "Oh really? Why?" Curiosity and doubtfulness crossed her every feature.

Draco started to become uncomfortable. She had never really looked at him without glaring, and now, with her curious brown eyes upon him, he wished that she had been glaring. It was much easier to deal with her angry. He took a moment to think about how exactly he had taken interest in her. "Well, Granger, you know how the saying goes, keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer. I've got to keep an eye on you and Pothead and Weasel, see what you're up to, see if I can report you for anything. You've had quite a few run-ins with me when you're about breaking rules, Granger. I'd love to see you get punished," he said, the last line being more evil than the rest on purpose, having made it quite clear it was an innuendo, as his eyes had been raking her body as he said it.

Granger glared at him. Ah, back to the familiar. Draco thought gleefully. "You're sick, Malfoy!"

He smiled, crossing his long, muscular arms and leaning back comfortably. "That I am," he said, keeping his smile. "Hasn't anyone told you, Granger? I'm a sadistic masochist."

Hermione was appalled.

Draco's smile widened. He was in a much better mood now.



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



DISCLAIMER: Roses are red, violets are blue, me own none, so you no sue!



Author's Note: Well, well, well... Three chapters into the bloody story and they haven't even stepped foot inside Hogwarts yet. Ah, well. All in good time, all in good time. Sorry for the relatively short chapter, but I hope you all paid close attention to it; it's the most important one I've written yet. It gets into Draco's psyche (well, MY Draco's psyche... I'm afraid I might have made him quite a good bit out of character....*cringes* I hate that.). We find out a lot about his past, and how he's questioning (but not yet entirely defying) what he was raised in, as well as his state of mental health, which sort of seems to be deteriorating at the moment under the constant pressure of his life. Yes, he is slowly going crazy, but he probably will be saved, even though I think it would be terribly fun to write about a literally insane Draco Malfoy. Now that I think of it, I'll probably save that for a later fiction. It sounds rather interesting, doesn't it? Anywho, like I said, this was an important chapter in the story, hope you all paid attention, respectively. If you didn't, you will be properly lost in later chapters, of that I can guarantee.

Just to forewarn you, this fiction, in case you haven't yet noticed, you daft piece of cardboard, is going to be fairly dark, at sometimes extremely dark, and full of angst. Yes, there will be nice moments, happy moments, even sweet *cringes* moments, all in due time. Got to preheat the oven before you stick in the turkey, no? Anywho, this will be a dark fiction, I promise you that whether you want me to or not. Yes, there will be deaths, there will be violence, there will be jealousy, tradition, torture, murder, rivalries, war, and sex (of course, on that last bit, quite a few of you probably did perk up). In this fiction we will explore not only surroundings and feelings, but the condition of the mind as it as deployed under extreme and various pressures. That can be very dark, indeed. However, there will also be much humour, friendship, hope, compassion, lust, love.... All of these play a vital role in the most epic war of all time: Love. I think that it is clear now Draco and Hermione will have a rough time, but aren't all great things worth fighting for? Of course they are. Makes a great experience, a great story, if you will. You have been warned.



Quick Notes: So surprised, really, about how you all felt so terrible for Ron. Believe me, all of that will get sorted out in due time, for better or for worse. The parents of both Draco and Hermione will play bigger roles, as will Harry, who is standoffish at the moment. Ginny, too. However, not quite so much Quidditch, though there will be some. There will be several.... surprises, shall we say? And war. A very, very big war...Mentally and physically...



***EXTREMELY IMPORTANT NOTE***: Okay, people. I am vacationing in the South of France for 2.5 weeks. Packing my bags as you're reading this, probably. It's my break, so don't mope on about how I positively need to update, even if I do. My next update will be in about 3 weeks, I daresay. Hey, a girl has got to take a break every once in a while, no? However, please keep reviewing, dahlings.

What's even more surprising is the *wonderful* responses I got. I got so many. I feel so honoured, everyone. I feel like accepting an Oscar or something...You like me, you really like me!....Well, okay, you like my story! You really like my story! So, to show my appreciation for you wonderful people out there, here is my thank-you section, as always!





Thank You's (Yes, I can be rather redundant.):



Kristina Chang: Thank you for your review. I thought I was off to a rather bad start, honestly, but apparently this is not so. The humour was indeed intentional; there were a lot of dark themes and I felt that I had to put some funny scenes in to lighten the mood a bit, so my readers won't get too depressed and stop reading! Glad you like my writing:)

Amber: Well, the new chapter's up, obviously. And what did you want to know? You never told me, so I'm still scratching my head on that one.

Yassou: I simply want to hug you right now, I really do, but I don't know if you would like that or not. Absolutely smashing review, honestly, it was exemplary in what I like in reviews. You told me what you liked, what you didn't like, the best aspect of the story in your opinion, and a bit of constructive criticism. The perfect balance. Wow. Thank you so very much. After reader your review, I'm sure that I positively glowed for a couple of hours or so. Thank you for both your praise and constructive criticism. My reader's opinions count a great deal to me. About Mrs. Malfoy, there is a reason behind the madness and why she says all that, but I haven't quite gotten there yet. Don't jump the guns just now! Please keep reviewing! Wow... I'm on someone's favourites list... I believe you may be the first to hold me in those reguards. Well, cheers!

sandy: Thank you for the French bit. I asked Grandmere later on how to say certain things in French (she's fluent) and got that cleared up a bit. And, obviously, I'm continuing the story. Thanks for the compliment!

I-LOVE-DRACO: Hey! I do too! Well, I've posted. Hope you're happy with this chappy!:)

milehigh: Yes, there will diffidently be some steamy scenes later on. GUARANTEED. (sp?)

Sonicfan: Yes, I too like how I didn't make Draco and Hermione fall in love straight away; it rather takes from a story, doesn't it? Honestly, love does not pop out of nowhere. It takes a bit, no? And yes, I know that you, along with so many other people, feel bad for Ron. I promise that issue will be clarified and sorted out in due time. Thanks for the review!

Columbine: Ludicrous. Writing can never be taken too seriously unless you're analyzing it, but in this case you are not. You know, stories are supposed to draw you into a different reality. That's half of the fun, is it not? Of course it is, or we all wouldn't love Harry Potter so much. As for making Draco beg Hermione for forgiveness, he will not, though I understand why you want him to.... Let's just say, he'll grovel in a different way, one much more appetizing.... Popcorn, anyone? Cheers! ^_~

Marionette: Thank you for the French lesson! lol... I suppose I'm a bit ignorant, aren't I? Honestly, France is just a tunnel away from me, I should know the language, or at least how to say please. I'm oh-so-ashamed of myself, really. I'm glad that you "totally and completely adored" my story thus far. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Ron will be happier in later chapters, though, so don't you worry! Thank you!

ravenclaw-gal: I know. I feel dreadful for writing Lavender that upset. Part of me just wants to wring Ron's neck, but then I remember it's me who wrote it. As for the masquerade ball, it's come up in my mind before. Still debating on whether or not to write it in the story, though. Keep reviewing! Cheers to my first repeating reviewer!

Jadziaxxx: Still trying to figure out how to pronounce your name, you know. Ah, well... Glad you think my writing's original. I'm sure you do like true to character, but there are certain reasons why Hermione turned Ron in that will be revealed in a later chapter. Also, she's feeling very dutiful to her new Head Girl position now, which just enforced her actions. It not like she turned him in for what he was really doing, though. He's still her friend, mind you. As to Ron's behaviour and words, if you read the books, he is a fairly irrational person, really, especially when emotions come into play. Also, we've never really seen him in a romantically-linked situation yet, save for the scene with Hermione after the Yule Ball in their fourth year, in which case he was irrational. Therefore, we honestly don't know how he would or would not react, for it isn't even in his canon yet. I'm just writing a possibility in my own little world, you know? After all, it is FAN fiction, isn't it? Sorry if it sounds like I'm snapping at you, because I'm really not. I'm simply telling the reasons behind why I made the characters do what they did in this story and defending my writing, so no harm done, you know? Anywho, thank you very much for the compliment on the dialogue between Hermione and Draco. I've worked quite a bit on it and I must say that I am very pleased to hear that it was effective! Please keep reviewing; I love your input! Cheers!

littledoll: Yes, I'll email you with updates because you complimented me personally. Glad you think that I am good author, really, and thank you for saying that I'm funny and open and such. Lovely, dear. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy! Thank you very much, and I promise to keep updating.

Jase: Umm....Yes, yes, I think I will continue writing the story. No worries there.

Blanche Dubois: Yes, Malfoy is a jerk, a very sexy jerk. I'm trying to keep him in canon, but I'm afraid that I may be failing miserably. Oh, well... I've seen worse, I suppose. Very glad you're reading my fic because it's well-written and not just because it's rated 'R'... Just checking, you know. So many people out there just want to get their jollies off on the sex in the stories... It's very odd. Anywho, thank you very much for the compliments and reviews! They are very much appreciated!

squorpionlady: Odd spelling of your name, really, but no matter... Firstly, thank you for reviewing twice:) Yes, I know it's all very sad in the story, and I wanted to cry after writing a few of the scenes, but there's no use in crying over spilt milk. Things will look up for Ron and the rest, so don't worry. It's other things coming in this story that will be worth your tears. Like I said in the Author's Notes, it is very much going to be a dark fiction. However, it will be worth your while, I promise. Thank you for your reviews!

porcelain-starfish: Your name is a bit of an oxymoron. Sorry, I'm being weird, but you know, starfish are practically indestructible unless you destroy their center or take them out of water, for they regenerate and all, and porcelain is just so fragile... I dunno. I'm just amused. Anywho, glad I've got you hooked. If you like post-Hogwarts fictions, I suggest "Dark Wind" by Hype (shameless plug, really; that's my other pseudonym.) ^_~

Jamie: Thanks! Glad you like the story thus far! And the emphasis on *wonderful* didn't hurt, either! *grins*

Angelic hope: Love the name. Right then. Oh, yes, I have every intention of continuing this fiction, I just emmensely enjoy both writing and getting reviews. It's a lot of fun for me, really. Glad you like my story!

Lavender Trish: Obviously, I've just updated. Though, I must tell you that it takes a while to write this, and I have a very busy life as it is. I'm an artist, and I travel a lot during breaks. On top of it, I'm still in schooling at St. Andrews, which has a most demanding academic schedule. I've got quite a bit to do. So, if I take a week or two to update, you now know why. Anyway, glad you like the story. Please review again!

kagie-chan: Well, glad you like some parts, but disappointed you don't like other parts, or, in your words "yikes". Disappointed even more so that you didn't tell me one single part of what you liked or what you didn't like. Just giving me that much would be very nice, you know. Called *constructive* criticism. That's what helps writers. Anywho, keep reviewing. I hope I can get more out of you with this chapter! ^_~



See all of the beautiful thank-you's? Wouldn't you like to get one, too? I betcha would. I know you would. You know you want it... You can get one too, simply review, it's not much... Takes one simple moment of your time to review, you know, so.....



Please Review.



S'il vous plaît la revue.



Por favor revisión.



Bitte Nachprüfung.



Per favore la revisione.



Alstublieft beoordeling.



Por revisão de favor.



Behag anmeldelse.



There you go. "Please Review" in eight different languages: English, French, Spanish, German, Italian, Dutch, Portuguese, and Norwegian (albeit a little butchered, perhaps). Does that send you a message? Hope it does. Obviously, I love reviews. One of my pleasures in life. So.....



DON'T BE A CHICKEN! BE A MAN (OR WOMAN!) AND REVIEW!!!!! (I'm quite done now, thank you.)