Nothing is Ever Easy

Author: Renegade Moon

Rating: RATING HAS CHANGED TO PG-13

Summary: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are killed by the Dark Lord. But Draco is in danger too, Voldemort has vowed to kill every Malfoy so that he would be the one and only Slytherin heir. Draco has to change his identity, and that means a new appearance, a new name, a new life. Things will be hard for him. But then again, nothing is ever easy.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling, except the plot.

Author's Note: First of all, I am very, very, VERY sorry! I know I haven't updated for a long time, but school has started a few weeks agoo and all I seemed to be able to do was eat, sleep and work. SORRY!!!

And I must warn you, rating for this story has changed from PG to PG-13. I'm sorry for all of you under 13, but the dreams (or should I say nightmares) that Draco's having after drinking the potion are a little violent... Sorry! Couldn't help it! And I made an effort, could have been R... By the way, for all of you who'd like to know, I'm planning on writing a very dark HP fic that WILL for sure be rated R. With much angst. But not for now, though, "Nothing is Ever Easy" already takes much of my time. ^_^

Anyway, thanks a lot for all your reviews! I definitely didn't expect so many reviews for only two chapters. Here's the third chappy, and I hope you'll like my story as much as I love writing it!!

Chapter 3 : Officially Dead

Blind. He had gone blind, that must be it. He couldn't see anything, wherever he looked he saw only white. Bright, very bright white. He wished it would go away, that the darkness would come, but it didn't. He tried to close his eyes, hoping his eyelids would provide him some protection against the brightness, but to no avail. He didn't even know wether his eyes were open or closed. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know who he was. He didn't know anything at all. His mind held not a single memory, instead it was all white. He was looking everywhere, his eyes frantically searching for something other than white, but there was none. He wished there was something, anything — an object, a person, a wall — anything that could have brought even the slightest bit of shadow, of blackness, but there was nothing. It was all empty.

Desperate to escape the whiteness, he looked down at himself, expecting relief at the sight of the color of his skin, of his clothes, but all he saw was yet white. He began to panick. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the brighteness surrounding him. In his mind, a single word was echoing repeatedly like a silent prayer: color... color... color... And his wish came true, color came. He hadn't been expecting this, though.

He felt a warm and coppery taste in his mouth. He coughed, and bright red drops appeared in front of him. Blood. His blood. He coughed again, and again, and again. Soon there was a lot of red in front of him. The blood stain had a strange shape, but he couldn't see what it represented. He coughed one more time, and the stain had a new shape now, one he recognized easily. I was a snake, tauntingly flickering its tongue at him.

Draco woke with a start, covered in sweat. He instantly wished he would fall back to sleep, though, for now the excrutiating pain was back. The word "unbearable" didn't even come close to the correct description of the pain. His vision was blurry, but he manage to make out a figure bent over him and realized that this person was trying to keep him down on the bed. For a second, he wondered why he was being held onto the bed, then he realized that he was struggling to get up and kicking and punching the air in a desperate effort to break free.

He thought he heard voices and someone screaming loudly, and it took him some time to realize the cries were his own. He looked up to the person who was trying all his might to hold him to the bed, and the first thing he saw was... white.

The memory of his nightmare came back to him in a rush and he was about to jump back from the white something in front of him, but before he could do anything a warm and sweet liquid was poured down his throat, and he fell back to sleep.

********************

Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat to quiet the curious or angry whispers of students wondering why dinner hadn't appeared in their plates yet. Silence fell instantly upon the Great Hall and all heads turned to the Headmaster.

"I suppose you are all wondering why your food isn't here yet," Dumbledore said slowly, and Harry noticed the usual twinkle in the old man's eyes was gone. "Well, I have something to tell you all which, in my opinion, — and I hope yours too — is more important than food right now."

Dumbledore paused as students were glancing at each other with worried looks on their faces. "Some of you would probably have noticed a student was missing today," he continued with a grim expression that was beginning to make students panic.

Dumbledore looked around the room for any reaction, and Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione, "Malfoy!"

"Exactly," Dubledore said, looking straight at Ron. "Mr Malfoy wasn't there today, and that is because he was killed."

Several students gasped, including Ron, Harry and Hermione. They were utterly shocked. True, they hated Malfoy and he had always been their worst enemy, but they had never wanted him dead... Hating someone so bad you wanted him hurt was one thing, but death was a totally different matter! Death was... well, irreversible. It was serious. Draco Malfoy never had been the most appreciated person in school, he was in fact despised by many. Of course, nobody would be crying over him, but learning his death didn't bring smiles to their lips either.

At first there was complete silence in the room, then everyone began whispering to each other at the same time or asking Dumbledore the same questions, "Who? Why?"

A muffled sob was heard, and everyone turned to see Pansy Parkinson, her face buried in her hands, weeping. Dumbledore gave her a concerned look, motioned for the students to quiet down, and said, "Miss Parkinson, here," he gestured toward Pansy, "Was the one who found blood in Draco Malfoy's private prefect bedroom, along with traces of a fight. What I want you all to remember is that he has been killed by Voldemort." There were more gasps at hearing the name, but Dumbledore ignored them and continued. "And I want you to realize that, even though he might not have been greatly appreciated by many of you," he looked pointedly at Harry, "He was killed by a man — no, a monster — who doesn't care whether you're with him or against him. He would kill anyone without the single hesitation." He paused and, this time, looked at the Slytherins. "He would not think twice before killing even a very precious follower of his. I want you to always remember that."

He sat back into his chair in the perfect silence of the room, then food appeared suddenly in all of their plates, but no one said a thing. His last words had cast a chill over the Great Hall.

********************

Madam Pomfrey checked that the infirmary door was still locked and that the silencing charms she had cast on the whole room were still on. When she was assured that everything was ok, she went back to sit next to Draco's bed and sighed. Enchanted rope around his wrists and ankles tied him to the bed, but he was struggling so hard that the rope was cutting into his skin. She knew that the potion to change his appearance hurt even more than the Cruciatus curse, but at least it was effective: it was the fourth day since he had taken it, and she could already see some changes. His silky white-blond hair was thickening and turning darker and his eyes, though she only saw them for brief moments every time he awoke, were losing their silver-blue color and turning greenish. The tone of his skin was changing, too, he wasn't as pale anymore.

Madam Pomfrey didn't like Draco Malfoy much. How many times had he sent other students to her because he had jinxed them or made them spill dangerous potions in class? But seeing how much he was suffering, she decided it was a punishment far worse than he really deserved. After all, he had lost his parents, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named intended to kill him, an now he was going to spend the rest of his time at Hogwarts in Gryffindor, with his worst ennemies.

Everytime Draco awoke, Madam Pomfrey saw fear in his eyes. He would see her and panic, then he always managed to break the ropes and free himself. She knew that the pain lessened when he was asleep, so whenever he opened his eyes she gave him a sleeping potion. That potion numbed some of the pain, but gave nightmares. That was the price to pay.

 She looked down at Draco. His face was covered in sweat, he was moaning and breathing rapidly but irreguarly, tossing his head from side to side. He was constantly pulling on the rope tying him and she heard him mutter something in his sleep, and Madam Pomfrey sighed again.

Only three days left and he would be fine. "Hold on," she told him in barely more than a whisper.

********************

Draco looked around, confused. He had no idea where he was. He was standing in the middle of a very crowded street that he didn't recognize. There were many people walking on this street, but they were all rushing past him as thought he wasn't there. He tried to move but realized that he couldn't, his legs were heavy and his arms were limp at his sides.

He looked at the people walking on the street, and it took him some time to notice that they were all dressed in red. He frowned, and tried to talk to one of them, a tall blond man in his late thirties, but the man didn't respond. Draco started to yelle at them, but no one seemed to hear. Noone of them even looked like they were aware of his presence at all.

Then he noticed something starnge. Something was wrong. He carefully observed the street, searching for whetever it was that bothered him, but didn't find anything. He looked around for a few moments, then it hit him: the people on the street were all walking in the same direction, straight forward, without a single glance back over their shoulder. They were all blond-haired men and women in their late thirties, all dressed in red, and—

Draco gasped. Something was coming his way. Something tall and black, coming from where all those people were heading to. Panicking, Draco struggled to move and run, but he was rooted to the spot. Soon, the tall dark figure was in fact a young man with black robes and a black cloak. At his belt their was a silver and gold sword, and on his chest was a drawing of a serpent being torn into pieces by a huge golden lion. The man's face was a blur and Draco couldn't see who it was.

It was a beautiful sword in Draco's opinion. He had always wanted to have a sword like this one. In fact, he'd often pictured himself with the exact same sword as this one.

The man stopped a few feet from Draco, and all the people in the street quickly steped back. As the man brandished the sword over his head, Draco held his breath. He knew what was coming, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He was totally helpless.

The last thing Draco saw before the man brought his beautiful sword down was the picture of the golden lion killing the long serpent.

a/n: I hope you liked this chapter. I know my chapters aren't very long, sorry!! Anyway, please review!! Again, I'm really sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. And to make up for this, I've updated 2 chappies today!! ^_^