A/N: And there is Draco in this chapter, in his current life. And then, the beginning of battleness in Hogsmeade. The next chapter shall be entirely battleness. Because that is fun. Read and review, please!
I have several people to thank, without whom this story would never have gotten off the ground/out of the bunny closet.
Mynuet: Thank you SO much for all the talks, inspiration, plottings, and general encouragement. I admire you (fangirl, more like) as a writer, but value you even more as a friend. 333 you, Sharlene!
ChainedDove: Thank you for being the always-w00bie crazy shipper and overall plotter. D/G RULES, and just... love you to bits. Not to mention, without you, there would be no such thing as Roggie/Cho, etc. etc... either ;)
Sky: Thank you so very much for your continuing support, even when I'm being an annoying bint... and especially, thanks for being such a great sounding board for my mad ideas. 333!
Kimmie: Thank you for bringing Emma, her backstory and the Emma/Seamus ship into the world. I 333 you!
All Lovely Reviewers: Thank you for taking the time to read this bit of overblown angst from me and offering feedback on it. You don't understand how much I (or my inner review whore) appreciate it!
Disclaimer: This is where I claim innocence, you smile and nod, and the men in white lab coats drag me away.
~*~
During the day he wore a nauseatingly Muggle wig, and he figured that had Ron Weasley seen him like that, the great prat would never let him hear the end of it.
A Malfoy with a head of strawberry-blonde, almost ginger hair, in cherubic curls no less. And glasses (though still more stylish than those ugly things that Potter wore). Glasses charmed with a spell repelling recognition by the wizarding world.
He went by the name of Galen Wells, and worked at a book shoppe close to this 'home'. Pansy had been meticulous in helping him plan... and he reflected somewhat wryly that it was good, after all. Longbottom certainly needed someone who was just so efficient and organized about things. Even when the occasional witch or wizard ever graced his workplace with his or her presence, no one knew him for who he was (or more dangerously, what he was). Mandy Brocklehurst and Stephen Cornfoot walked in together, bought a copy of War and Peace, and left the store without a spark of recognition as the quiet man behind the counter as he took their money.
It was Sunday evening, towards the end of his shift. A slow day, and at the moment, sitting in the small cafe that afforded book shoppe patrons with tea and toast and the like, he sat at a table with one of his coworkers. A man in late middle age, perhaps nearing fifty, his hair flecked with gray and a pair of gold-wire reading glasses on his nose. He'd worked there, at this insignificant-almost-to-the-point-of-shabbiness little establishment, a gentle book-lover Muggle who tipped his hat gallantly at the ladies and carried a picture of his wife and sproglets in his wallet. Rob Markley had always been kind; showing the way around the store, patiently (oh so terribly patiently) explaining how everything worked... Rob had never thought it odd that a young man of nineteen, with no traces of a foreign accent, took several days just to become accustomed to the currency.
"Ah... it's nearing Christmastime," Rob took a sip of his tea and smiled, "Going home for Christmas? Or perhaps somewhere warmer, lad?"
Draco had never been called 'lad' in his childhood. "No," he answered simply. "I don't really have any family."
And here Rob looked astonished for a moment, and then stricken. "Why that's not right... you have to spend Christmas with someone... it's not right to spend it alone..."
Draco gave a light shrug, "Perhaps some other year, I'll be luckier."
Rob nodded, still apparently quite troubled over the whole thing. "Say, if you find yourself too lonesome on Christmas, you're welcome to come to my house. The wife won't mind, and I'm sure the little ones will love you. My wife makes a brilliant Christmas pudding, too..."
"I thank you for your offer," Draco replied civilly and rather noncommittally. Rob grinned and finished his tea.
"Good woman, my wife is... met her when we were both just babes, really... her mum was friends with my mum. Name's Betsy. Always generous... she'd love to meet you, I'm sure. And the kids... Bobby Junior, Mary, Little Mike, and Annie, ages twelve, eleven, eight and three. You have any brothers or sisters, lad?"
Draco shook his head again, a small, wry smile finally visible at the corners of his lips. He didn't have any siblings, that was true... but someone else did -- an overabundance of git brothers.
"Now, now... that's the spirit. Be happy and smile, I always say," Rob chuckled, "And let me in on the joke, too."
Joke? "Er... nothing," Draco quickly said, "Just someone... my... girl. She had a lot of siblings."
"Oh, your GIRL..." Now Rob perked up visibly, eyes glinting, "What's she like?"
'Just the type of girl you'd die for. Just the type that you'd kill for. Just the type that you're not supposed to love, who is too good for you by far, and whose brothers have good reason for wanting to kill you on sight.' Well. He couldn't say THAT. "She's... spunky. A year younger than me. She's... away right now. But we keep in touch. Pretty. Has this huge family and really annoying brothers. Ruddy gits, the lot of them... but she's just... sweet. And stubborn and feisty and too GOOD."
"Sounds like quite the lass you have," Rob grinned, "What's her name, then?"
And Draco's face was completely serious and steady when he gave the immediate reply. "Angel."
And then the hellish burning started in his forearm, the omen of ill, and he stood up, expressionless as he made his excuses.
~*~
The village of Hogsmeade was beautiful in the wintertime, and the students always looked forward to Hogsmeade weekends.
This day was no exception, and under the supervision of Professors Vector, Montague, Johnson and Li, many students from third year through seventh rode the coaches to the village, filling Honeydukes, The Three Broomsticks, and Zonko's with their irrepressible exuberance.
Su Li stood alone, her slim back against the wall of the Post Office, watching the people walk past, as still as they were rushed.
For the sake of politeness, Angelina Johnson, with a small smile, invited the younger woman to join her and Montague for lunch. With similar politeness and a smile belied by the slightly haunted look in her eyes, declined, saying that she wasn't hungry.
BY mid-afternoon, most of the students were starting to congregate, preparing to go back to Hogwarts. The sky darkened early these days... it was nearing the Solstice.
But students were still wandering around the streets when there was a loud, thunderous BOOM in the sky, except there was no rain. Lurid green against the gray clouds was a Dark Mark, and then came the screams.
Now Su jumped, as if hit with a shock, from where she'd been standing, and with eyes narrowed, ran forward, meeting Angelina Johnson, who was running out of the store. "We need to get the students out of here."
Within moments, the Prefects had been mobilized, ushering students into carriages even as various Hogsmeade inhabitants and teachers lined up, faces filled with anything from fear to stony determination, to hold off the encroaching threat. And as the Death Eaters swarmed in, the students swarmed out.
Even as the first spells erupted in the air, Ginny watched from the window of her coach, her arm comfortingly around a small, whimpering third-year Hufflepuff as their conveyance rapidly sped away. She thought she might have seen him... but soon the air was dense with smoke and sparks and then everything was too far away and small to make out.
But indeed, Draco WAS there, and he had been found. Su Li, her face utterly blank except for the look of complete and absolute hatred in her eyes, was facing him, her wand drawn in a fighting stance. There was a score to settle.
I have several people to thank, without whom this story would never have gotten off the ground/out of the bunny closet.
Mynuet: Thank you SO much for all the talks, inspiration, plottings, and general encouragement. I admire you (fangirl, more like) as a writer, but value you even more as a friend. 333 you, Sharlene!
ChainedDove: Thank you for being the always-w00bie crazy shipper and overall plotter. D/G RULES, and just... love you to bits. Not to mention, without you, there would be no such thing as Roggie/Cho, etc. etc... either ;)
Sky: Thank you so very much for your continuing support, even when I'm being an annoying bint... and especially, thanks for being such a great sounding board for my mad ideas. 333!
Kimmie: Thank you for bringing Emma, her backstory and the Emma/Seamus ship into the world. I 333 you!
All Lovely Reviewers: Thank you for taking the time to read this bit of overblown angst from me and offering feedback on it. You don't understand how much I (or my inner review whore) appreciate it!
Disclaimer: This is where I claim innocence, you smile and nod, and the men in white lab coats drag me away.
~*~
During the day he wore a nauseatingly Muggle wig, and he figured that had Ron Weasley seen him like that, the great prat would never let him hear the end of it.
A Malfoy with a head of strawberry-blonde, almost ginger hair, in cherubic curls no less. And glasses (though still more stylish than those ugly things that Potter wore). Glasses charmed with a spell repelling recognition by the wizarding world.
He went by the name of Galen Wells, and worked at a book shoppe close to this 'home'. Pansy had been meticulous in helping him plan... and he reflected somewhat wryly that it was good, after all. Longbottom certainly needed someone who was just so efficient and organized about things. Even when the occasional witch or wizard ever graced his workplace with his or her presence, no one knew him for who he was (or more dangerously, what he was). Mandy Brocklehurst and Stephen Cornfoot walked in together, bought a copy of War and Peace, and left the store without a spark of recognition as the quiet man behind the counter as he took their money.
It was Sunday evening, towards the end of his shift. A slow day, and at the moment, sitting in the small cafe that afforded book shoppe patrons with tea and toast and the like, he sat at a table with one of his coworkers. A man in late middle age, perhaps nearing fifty, his hair flecked with gray and a pair of gold-wire reading glasses on his nose. He'd worked there, at this insignificant-almost-to-the-point-of-shabbiness little establishment, a gentle book-lover Muggle who tipped his hat gallantly at the ladies and carried a picture of his wife and sproglets in his wallet. Rob Markley had always been kind; showing the way around the store, patiently (oh so terribly patiently) explaining how everything worked... Rob had never thought it odd that a young man of nineteen, with no traces of a foreign accent, took several days just to become accustomed to the currency.
"Ah... it's nearing Christmastime," Rob took a sip of his tea and smiled, "Going home for Christmas? Or perhaps somewhere warmer, lad?"
Draco had never been called 'lad' in his childhood. "No," he answered simply. "I don't really have any family."
And here Rob looked astonished for a moment, and then stricken. "Why that's not right... you have to spend Christmas with someone... it's not right to spend it alone..."
Draco gave a light shrug, "Perhaps some other year, I'll be luckier."
Rob nodded, still apparently quite troubled over the whole thing. "Say, if you find yourself too lonesome on Christmas, you're welcome to come to my house. The wife won't mind, and I'm sure the little ones will love you. My wife makes a brilliant Christmas pudding, too..."
"I thank you for your offer," Draco replied civilly and rather noncommittally. Rob grinned and finished his tea.
"Good woman, my wife is... met her when we were both just babes, really... her mum was friends with my mum. Name's Betsy. Always generous... she'd love to meet you, I'm sure. And the kids... Bobby Junior, Mary, Little Mike, and Annie, ages twelve, eleven, eight and three. You have any brothers or sisters, lad?"
Draco shook his head again, a small, wry smile finally visible at the corners of his lips. He didn't have any siblings, that was true... but someone else did -- an overabundance of git brothers.
"Now, now... that's the spirit. Be happy and smile, I always say," Rob chuckled, "And let me in on the joke, too."
Joke? "Er... nothing," Draco quickly said, "Just someone... my... girl. She had a lot of siblings."
"Oh, your GIRL..." Now Rob perked up visibly, eyes glinting, "What's she like?"
'Just the type of girl you'd die for. Just the type that you'd kill for. Just the type that you're not supposed to love, who is too good for you by far, and whose brothers have good reason for wanting to kill you on sight.' Well. He couldn't say THAT. "She's... spunky. A year younger than me. She's... away right now. But we keep in touch. Pretty. Has this huge family and really annoying brothers. Ruddy gits, the lot of them... but she's just... sweet. And stubborn and feisty and too GOOD."
"Sounds like quite the lass you have," Rob grinned, "What's her name, then?"
And Draco's face was completely serious and steady when he gave the immediate reply. "Angel."
And then the hellish burning started in his forearm, the omen of ill, and he stood up, expressionless as he made his excuses.
~*~
The village of Hogsmeade was beautiful in the wintertime, and the students always looked forward to Hogsmeade weekends.
This day was no exception, and under the supervision of Professors Vector, Montague, Johnson and Li, many students from third year through seventh rode the coaches to the village, filling Honeydukes, The Three Broomsticks, and Zonko's with their irrepressible exuberance.
Su Li stood alone, her slim back against the wall of the Post Office, watching the people walk past, as still as they were rushed.
For the sake of politeness, Angelina Johnson, with a small smile, invited the younger woman to join her and Montague for lunch. With similar politeness and a smile belied by the slightly haunted look in her eyes, declined, saying that she wasn't hungry.
BY mid-afternoon, most of the students were starting to congregate, preparing to go back to Hogwarts. The sky darkened early these days... it was nearing the Solstice.
But students were still wandering around the streets when there was a loud, thunderous BOOM in the sky, except there was no rain. Lurid green against the gray clouds was a Dark Mark, and then came the screams.
Now Su jumped, as if hit with a shock, from where she'd been standing, and with eyes narrowed, ran forward, meeting Angelina Johnson, who was running out of the store. "We need to get the students out of here."
Within moments, the Prefects had been mobilized, ushering students into carriages even as various Hogsmeade inhabitants and teachers lined up, faces filled with anything from fear to stony determination, to hold off the encroaching threat. And as the Death Eaters swarmed in, the students swarmed out.
Even as the first spells erupted in the air, Ginny watched from the window of her coach, her arm comfortingly around a small, whimpering third-year Hufflepuff as their conveyance rapidly sped away. She thought she might have seen him... but soon the air was dense with smoke and sparks and then everything was too far away and small to make out.
But indeed, Draco WAS there, and he had been found. Su Li, her face utterly blank except for the look of complete and absolute hatred in her eyes, was facing him, her wand drawn in a fighting stance. There was a score to settle.