Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters! It all belongs
to the brilliant J. K. Rowling!
It was a chilly afternoon outside of the Leaky Cauldron, where a black haired young man sat, drinking a butterbeer to warm himself. He looked up as a young woman with brownish hair entered the room, carrying a small envelope.
"Hello, Harry," she said curtly, sitting at the young man's table.
"Hey Hermione," he said, taking another sip. An odd silence faltered between them.
"How've you been, Harry? It's been so long," she said laying the envelope on the table in front of him. He eyed it suspiciously.
"All right," he said simply, not taking his eyes off of the simple piece of paper with green calligraphy on the front. It read 'To Misters and Miss Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Malfoy' on the front.
"Harry, I heard what happened. I'm so sorry," Hermione Granger said exasperatedly.
"Don't be. It's over with."
"But Harry, there's nothing anyone could've done for her..."
"Yes, there is, Hermione!" Harry said furiously, slamming his glass on the table and standing. "I could've saved her, damn it! I should've!" A lone tear escaped his eye as he slowly sat back down.
"There, there, Harry, it's all right..." Hermione said comfortingly, patting Harry on the back as he sobbed silently.
"She's dead, Hermione, and I could've saved her. But I was too busy protecting myself. It should've been me, it really should've..."
"Now, don't you say that, Harry Potter. I know you. You have to keep fighting. If it weren't for you, this world would have gone to hell by now."
"In case you haven't noticed, this world is hell."
Another young man walked in, his fiery red hair covered by a winter cap. He walked over to the table and stopped abruptly.
"Hermione," he acknowledged as he pulled out a chair for himself and sat down.
"Hello, Ron," Hermione said, giving him a glazed stare.
Harry looked up, but remained silent. He couldn't face Ron anymore. Not after all that'd happened.
Ron Weasley looked at the letter, then focused his gaze back to Hermione. "How're you doing? Haven't seen you in a while."
"I'm doing fine, how about yourself?"
Ron didn't answer. Hermione knew why.
In walked the final member of the quartet, striding toward the table and sitting down hastily, pulling his cloak over his shoulders. "Let's get this over with," said Draco Malfoy as he picked up the letter and began to open it.
"Malfoy, we're supposed to do this together," Hermione said taking the letter and holding in her hands. "It's from Dumbledore. He told us all to meet here for a reason. Now whatever it is, we all have to promise to honor his wishes, whatever they may be."
"Just read the damn letter, Granger."
Hermione gave Draco a ruthless look, then slowly pulled a piece of parchment out of the envelope, which she tossed aside.
"It says," she began, clearing her throat, "Hello again, students. I have wished to reunite you all together for one reason. After previous events," she paused to look at Harry and Ron, who were both avoiding the other's gaze, "I have decided to send you four on a mission. Lord Voldemort has taken a liking to hiding from us, across foreign waters that he believes we cannot cross. I, on the other hand, believe in you four. Please meet me tonight back at Hogwarts, and we'll discuss this further. As for now, stay together and don't get into any trouble. Sincerely, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."
Hermione looked at each of the boys' faces in turn. They had grown to looking much older. It had only been two years since their graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, yet all had been through so much, she understood they wrinkles in their foreheads. She had them as well.
"Bloody bastard," Draco scoffed. "He's full of shit, always has been."
Harry finally spoke. "Don't you talk about him that way, Malfoy. He's the best headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, and you know it. He taught you everything you know."
"Actually, he taught me nothing. I learned all I know from my father."
"You mean the one that's in Azkaban this very moment?" Ron asked, undoubtedly knowing the answer.
Draco squinted his eyes. "Yes."
"Oh, what a damn shame," Harry said, unambiguous sarcasm in his voice.
"Boys, can we just get over this and do what Dumbledore said?" Hermione interrupted. The boys fell silent. "We can catch a train, and we'll be there by nightfall. Are you with me?"
"I am," Harry said swiftly.
"So am I," Ron joined.
Hermione looked at Draco.
He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Sure as hell not for your sake."
"All right. Let's go."
It was a chilly afternoon outside of the Leaky Cauldron, where a black haired young man sat, drinking a butterbeer to warm himself. He looked up as a young woman with brownish hair entered the room, carrying a small envelope.
"Hello, Harry," she said curtly, sitting at the young man's table.
"Hey Hermione," he said, taking another sip. An odd silence faltered between them.
"How've you been, Harry? It's been so long," she said laying the envelope on the table in front of him. He eyed it suspiciously.
"All right," he said simply, not taking his eyes off of the simple piece of paper with green calligraphy on the front. It read 'To Misters and Miss Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Malfoy' on the front.
"Harry, I heard what happened. I'm so sorry," Hermione Granger said exasperatedly.
"Don't be. It's over with."
"But Harry, there's nothing anyone could've done for her..."
"Yes, there is, Hermione!" Harry said furiously, slamming his glass on the table and standing. "I could've saved her, damn it! I should've!" A lone tear escaped his eye as he slowly sat back down.
"There, there, Harry, it's all right..." Hermione said comfortingly, patting Harry on the back as he sobbed silently.
"She's dead, Hermione, and I could've saved her. But I was too busy protecting myself. It should've been me, it really should've..."
"Now, don't you say that, Harry Potter. I know you. You have to keep fighting. If it weren't for you, this world would have gone to hell by now."
"In case you haven't noticed, this world is hell."
Another young man walked in, his fiery red hair covered by a winter cap. He walked over to the table and stopped abruptly.
"Hermione," he acknowledged as he pulled out a chair for himself and sat down.
"Hello, Ron," Hermione said, giving him a glazed stare.
Harry looked up, but remained silent. He couldn't face Ron anymore. Not after all that'd happened.
Ron Weasley looked at the letter, then focused his gaze back to Hermione. "How're you doing? Haven't seen you in a while."
"I'm doing fine, how about yourself?"
Ron didn't answer. Hermione knew why.
In walked the final member of the quartet, striding toward the table and sitting down hastily, pulling his cloak over his shoulders. "Let's get this over with," said Draco Malfoy as he picked up the letter and began to open it.
"Malfoy, we're supposed to do this together," Hermione said taking the letter and holding in her hands. "It's from Dumbledore. He told us all to meet here for a reason. Now whatever it is, we all have to promise to honor his wishes, whatever they may be."
"Just read the damn letter, Granger."
Hermione gave Draco a ruthless look, then slowly pulled a piece of parchment out of the envelope, which she tossed aside.
"It says," she began, clearing her throat, "Hello again, students. I have wished to reunite you all together for one reason. After previous events," she paused to look at Harry and Ron, who were both avoiding the other's gaze, "I have decided to send you four on a mission. Lord Voldemort has taken a liking to hiding from us, across foreign waters that he believes we cannot cross. I, on the other hand, believe in you four. Please meet me tonight back at Hogwarts, and we'll discuss this further. As for now, stay together and don't get into any trouble. Sincerely, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."
Hermione looked at each of the boys' faces in turn. They had grown to looking much older. It had only been two years since their graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, yet all had been through so much, she understood they wrinkles in their foreheads. She had them as well.
"Bloody bastard," Draco scoffed. "He's full of shit, always has been."
Harry finally spoke. "Don't you talk about him that way, Malfoy. He's the best headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, and you know it. He taught you everything you know."
"Actually, he taught me nothing. I learned all I know from my father."
"You mean the one that's in Azkaban this very moment?" Ron asked, undoubtedly knowing the answer.
Draco squinted his eyes. "Yes."
"Oh, what a damn shame," Harry said, unambiguous sarcasm in his voice.
"Boys, can we just get over this and do what Dumbledore said?" Hermione interrupted. The boys fell silent. "We can catch a train, and we'll be there by nightfall. Are you with me?"
"I am," Harry said swiftly.
"So am I," Ron joined.
Hermione looked at Draco.
He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Sure as hell not for your sake."
"All right. Let's go."