Chapter 13 – Shattered

It was raining. Huge, black clouds were covering the ceiling of the Great Hall and rain was pouring down the white marble columns, becoming invisible and untouchable in mid-air. Raindrops were falling against the windows, tears were coming down the cheeks of a sixteen year-old, curly brown-haired girl, covered in an emerald-green cloak. She was standing on the ice-cold floor, arms around her knees. Hermione was crying like a baby, unable to stop by any means. The cloak had been a birthday present from Draco. He had given it to her earlier in the morning. They had talked, and laughed, and been optimistic. But it seemed like the Fates would never support them: while everybody was having breakfast in the Great Hall and Hermione was opening all the gifts she had gotten, a pair of Dementors broke into Hogwarts. So it no longer was a safe place. They told Dumbledore that they had to take Draco away --- Ministry business. Dumbledore had tried to stop them, but with no success.

Hermione knew all of it was her own fault. It had seemed quite odd to her that Lucius would abandon the son of his Lord. She had known it was only a trap. Something to deceive Draco, to make him let down his guard. And yet she hadn't talked to anybody, not even to Dumbledore. Ginny had insisted that Hermione should ask for the headmaster's help, but she hadn't listened to her. And now... Tears were pouring down her face and she let desperate sobs out of her chest. Was she never going to see Draco again?

Hurried footsteps could be heard down the hall and panicked voices of both the students and the professors echoed through the old walls of the castle. Hogwarts was no longer safe... A student had been taken by the Dementors... The horrible news flew inside the school, carried by the fear of death. Voldemort would now surely take over Hogwarts and thousands of lives would be destroyed, that's what many of the students thought. Even Slytherins were very worried. They, too, were horrified by the Dark Lord.

***

"Let...me...GO!" Draco shouted at the Death Eaters surrounding him, but the only answer he got was a steel-cold smirk, much like the one Draco himself used in his time of being a faithful Slytherin.

"You foolish boy..." somebody laughed from the corner of the spooky room. It was a gray chamber, entirely made of stone. It seemed like the room of a very old castle, but Draco couldn't be sure – when he got here he was blindfolded, so he couldn't see a thing all the way up to this place.

Suddenly, the frightening silence was broken by hundreds of whispers. The only thing that came to the boy's ears, though, was "The Dark Lord is coming!"

Even though no steps could be heard, Draco knew the whispers were true. In a few seconds, a huge shadow darkened the room: a tall figure, apparently crawling or floating over the floor entered.

"My...ssssson..."

"I'm... not...your...SON!" the young man shouted. He was hardly breathing – someone...or something...was cutting its way through his head, through his mind...Voldemort! Draco felt truly helpless for the first time in his life. For the first time in his life he was truly afraid. Truly afraid of death, of Voldemort, of his Death Eaters, of losing the ones he loved... Draco screamed in pain. All the colors, all the images vanished in front of him. He could only see darkness, he could only feel pain... All he could hear was a cold voice laughing a cruel and scary laughter. When the laughter stopped, the voice whispered: "What did you think? Did you think that I was going to let you live after defying my powers? Did you think that you would live happily ever after with that mudblood and have kids and a little house on the sea coast?" The icy laughter again resounded in Draco's ears like an echo of the approaching death. "Did you think that I would have a bastard as my heir?"

"Then why didn't you kill me at my birth? Why did you let me live until now?" the young man screamed in anger and despair.

"Because, you foolish boy, I wanted you to suffer!" Again, the laughter of a mad man could be heard, a laughter which made Draco shatter. "Say goodbye to your miserable and pitiful little world, my son! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

***

The night was covering the old towers of Hogwarts. No sound cut through the misty air, except the cry of a huge, black owl, the last messenger of a tormented soul. There was silence in Hogsmeade's cemetery.

On a white marble cross, the words "Draco T. Riddle, 1980-1996" were carved by a rather clumsy hand. A photo of a smiling, happy Draco, wrapped in an emerald-green cloak had been attached to the cross.

Eventually, all the people that had come to the burial left, except of one. Except of a young woman with bushy brown hair and a dirty robe. Her once shiny eyes were now giving a blank stare, tears entirely drained from her eyes. She was kneeling on the wet earth, hands clutched deep into it. With her last energy, she smiled madly, managing to whisper, before falling unconscious: "White Ferret..."

A/N: Well, that was about all... "It's All in Your Choice" finishes here, but stay tuned for my upcoming fic, "Crimson Stain"!

zoogerbas1: Sorry, Sorry, SORRY! Horrible mistake! *^_^* But I fixed my error! I didn't know his exact "birth" year, I chose it quite randomly, but thanks a lot for the info!