May He Rest in Peace

Chapter One: The Silent Killer

Everyone watched as they walked out, their faces looking up from plates of half-eaten meals. Their expressions were like stone as if it was still too early for them to translate any emotion. If it had not been for their eyes it was plausible to believe that they were all dead and their bodies were placed at the tables as some cruel joke. An outsider walking into the Great Hall at that moment would have seen a sea of eyes darting back and forth, showing nothing but a strong curiosity. It was almost like they were whispering to each other, spreading both truth and fiction. What did they care about the gossip hurting any feelings? He had no feelings, according to them, and they barely knew his sister. She had just started a month ago and was being very introverted and liked being alone, so she was probably the same. Everyone believed it was their father's blood, bad blood. The kind of blood that makes you cold and evil, just like they say he was, but they didn't know him. They would never get the chance to know him. His own children never had a chance either, so it was like this man never existed. But he did exist, the proof was everywhere. It was in print, in words; it was etched in people's hearts forever. How much of it was actually true no one knew, but he was still evil.

            They reached the giant entrance and were greeted by somber faces. The kind of faces people make when they want you to know that they feel bad for you, but they really don't. They hardly know you. They hardly knew them. The headmaster motioned for him to stay back and let his sister walk ahead to the Ministry car waiting in front of the school. The headmaster was old, ancient even. He had been a teacher at the school even when the Dark Lord has attended, but age did not slow down emotion. The old man looked at his student with such sadness in his eyes that David Malfoy thought he would burst out in tears. But that would never happen. Ever. Not because he couldn't muster emotion, because he did have feelings. He was determined, ambitious, and he was passionate, but not in a romantic way.  There were times when girls would sit down next to him and bat their eyelashes. He knew what it meant, but he never liked it. He thought it looked disgusting, like the girl was having a seizure. Sometimes he would ask that and he would get a pout or glare in return, usually followed by being left alone. He just never understood the idea of romantic love. He understood love in general because always felt love for different things, or something like it. He loved his mother, his sister, and he loved some of his school work. The headmaster sensed this, among other things. He was good at that. He knew that David was covering most of his feelings and he didn't even know it, but he would never tell him. He'd tried explaining it to others, but they never listened…never believed it. Maybe it was just his aged mind playing tricks on him or is many years of experience because he'd seen terrible things stem from blocking out certain emotions. Or maybe he was just feeling too many emotions at one time, like taking every color of paint from a palate and mixing them together. The artist is left with a black mess. The human psyche can't function like that. Besides, when certain things are forced together they often times explode. The headmaster thought about what he was going to say, but decided to hold back. Instead he told David goodbye and walked away.

            David looked ahead, he felt both annoyed and confused. He walked outside and saw his sister sitting in the car, waiting. A Ministry car? He thought to himself, what the hell is going on? He climbed in the back seat, reluctantly, and sat next to his sister. She had her head turned and was staring out the window. The morning sunshine poured in and he could see golden flecks in her curly brown hair. She looked so much like their mother, except for her eyes. They both had their father's gray eyes, empty and cold. The only things that could make them blaze were hate and anger. Hers hardly ever did that, but he knew his did…a lot. People always said that he looked like a mixture of both parents. He had his father's pale skin, his eyes, and his straight hair but he had brown hair. His father's hair was blonde. The one thing that would always connect him to his sister was his brain. They were both intelligent, like their mother. That was the only reason why most of the teachers were civil with him. They had to be. He was bright and he asked questions and his family had been attending Hogwarts since, well, he really didn't know how long just that it was a long time. Sometimes he wondered if any of his teachers knew his father or his mother or anyone else in his family and that was why they never did anything to him.

He knew some of his friends' parents had gone to school with his parents. There was one student, a girl, he swore he would never call his friend and he knew that her parents went to school with his. Her name was Elizabeth Potter. Whenever he heard her name he wanted to throw up. It sent chills down his spine and he couldn't help but feel angry. He had to tolerate it though; she was in most of his classes. If she had been anyone else in the world he might have tried to build a good relationship with her. She wasn't ugly; he actually thought she was prettier than a lot of the other girls at school and smarter too. It was just her name, it disgusted him. His mother always told him not to hold her name against her. He knew she said that because she was best friends with her parents when they were at Hogwarts but he couldn't do it. Sometime he wished it was the other way around…that his father had killed hers instead, because he didn't think she deserved to have a father; she was always complaining about her parents.  But that's what happened; that's how his father died. No one knows exactly what happened, but the newspapers and magazines all had the same headline:

"VOLDEMORT'S CLOSEST ADVISER, DRACO MALFOY, KILLED BY REVOLUTION LEADER, HARRY POTTER."

There were no witnesses, but everybody figured that Potter probably did it. They all knew he was insane enough to try. The murder really did nothing to help the cause, it just made Voldemort's party more aware of what was going on around them. They just became more forceful in dealing with their cause. It wasn't much of a cause anymore, because there was nothing to fight for. They had already won and the wizarding world was at their command.

David never really thought about it much, he actually liked things how they were. It always felt ironic though, because everything his father fought for was against Muggles and mudbloods and he had fallen in love with one and had two children who were both mudbloods. All of the rules and laws were made to oppress mudbloods, but they made exceptions for "special cases" like David. If a child had one pureblood parent they had a better chance of being named a special case than a child whose parents were either mudbloods or Muggles. Most kids were named special cases because of school. First a child would have to pass the "parent test" and then take a written test. If the written test was also passed, then the child would get a special certificate and be viewed as a pureblood in society. The Death Eaters cared more putting together their super race instead of sticking to the philosophy. Their opposition, The Revolution, often called them hypocrites because of that. David thought they had no right to be calling other people hypocrites. He knew kids at school whose parents were part of The Revolution which was made up almost entirely of mudbloods and Muggle lovers, except for a few exceptions like the Weasleys, and they all went through hell to admit their children into the pureblood side of the school. He knew Elizabeth's parents, well parent, was a Revolutionary and she went to school on the pureblood side. Most of the real purebloods thought it was disgusting because she was not only a mudblood, but her father killed a Death Eater. Whenever David thought about it he shuddered. He always led himself to realize that he had a lot more in common with Elizabeth than he wanted to. She had one pureblood parent like he did and all four of their parents went to school with each other. He knew that his mother had been best friends with her father and her mother's brother because she talked about them a lot, Harry and Ron. Sometimes he wished he went to a different school where he wasn't surrounded by the past everywhere he went.

The Ministry car stopped abruptly and its brakes screeched loudly. David hardly even noticed that it had been moving, he was busy thinking about the Potions exam he was missing. The door swung open, also screeching, and they were motioned to step out of the car. The opener moved to the side for David to exit and then gave his hand in aid for his sister. She stepped out onto a stone driveway and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Heavy gasoline fumes lingered in the air, David smelled them too. He wondered why the Ministry didn't bother to get new cars. Then he remembered that the Ministry was a Revolutionary organization and it was spending most of the money it had on other things. David looked around and realized he was standing in front of St. Mungo's. His stomach dropped, he knew why he was there. He looked at his sister. She looked so scared and her hands were shaking at her sides. She also knew why they were there. David tried a weak smile, but it wasn't working. Instead he put his hand on his sister's shoulder as they walked in. He lowered his head and whispered something in her ear.

"Morgan, it might not be that bad. Maybe she woke up."

            He felt his sister pull away. He knew why. She would never wake up; Morgan was there when the doctor said it. Morgan wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed people trying to cheer her up in hopeless situations. David could tell because he was the same way. Maybe if their lives had been different they would have known about things like hope. To them the world was what it was, a fragile balance. It was always changing from second to second and if you were the one who made that change, it would come back to you. It was like a person's life was set a certain way and it was intertwined with the lives of other people. If something happened, you had to stick to the path assigned for you because if you strayed you knocked everyone else off course so it was better not to hope or think of different paths. It was a deadly philosophy but it had kept them out of trouble, so far.  

            They walked slowly to her room. She lived, not so much lived, but existed in isolation so it was a long walk. The driver had left them with a doctor to guide them to her room, but they already knew where it was. The doctor opened the door and turned to them with a weak smile. David wondered why people did that, it made them look so stupid. He decided then that he would never smile unless he truly meant it.

            The room was bright, the morning sun nearing its noon position. She looked no different than the last time they saw her. Exactly the same, like she never moved on the bed. David felt himself drift back to the last time he saw her and expected to see her chest rise and fall, but it didn't happen. It would never happen again. He felt a burning sensation, like a lump of fire, rising in his throat. He looked down at Morgan. She was already crying, but like a true Malfoy the tears were few and they rolled down her cheeks quickly like they were embarrassed to be seen. He looked back up at the woman on the bed and shoved the lump in his throat back down. The doctor stepped in front of them and pulled out a clipboard.

            "I'm so sorry. The nurse said she was stable when she left to check on another patient. When she came back your mother was gone. I'm sorry I can't tell you more; I wish I knew what happened to her. I've never seen anything like it before."

            Morgan looked away from the doctor. David looked around the room trying to avoid the doctor's eyes. No one said a word and an uncomfortable silence fell on the room. David was getting impatient so he lifted his head and stared at the doctor. This time the doctor didn't smile, but his eyes held a genuine sympathy. David didn't know whether to be thankful or feel insulted. He was never really taught how to accept sympathy, so having no clue what to do he looked back down at the floor.

            "What do we do now? Do we just leave?"

            David felt himself jump a bit inside. The room had been so silent and he didn't think Morgan would be the one to break it. He thought that maybe she was in shock and wouldn't be talking for awhile, like when their father died. The doctor flinched and David realized how cold Morgan's words had sounded. He wasn't surprised, she always seemed closer to their father and he wasn't sure that she'd miss their mother. He knew it sounded really bad, but it was the truth. Maybe she blamed her for his death. David didn't really care either way, what was the different between a person that sat on a bed and didn't move or talk or do anything and a person who did the same thing but in a coffin, which was sort of like a bed.

The doctor's forehead wrinkled as he though of what to say. David wanted to tell him that it was better to tell Morgan the truth and not think about it.

"Well, you will have to attend meetings with a Muggle lawyer to go over her will and then you will be meeting with Ministry officials to go over your magical inheritance. For now you'll go back to school and relax. All your teachers have been informed. A funeral is being planned by some of your mother's friends in the Ministry. They'll contact you with more information on it."

Morgan nodded and sighed. The doctor looked up at David for approval, he could feel his eyes burning into the top of his head but he kept looking down at the floor. There was another uncomfortable silence. David swore he heard a faint, distant sound like a scream but it was interrupted by a knock. It was the Ministry driver peering into the room.

"I'm-I'm sorry to interrupt, b-but I need to g-get the car b-back to the M-Ministry."

Everyone turned around and David saw Morgan's mouth twist like she was trying to hold back a smile. The old man did sound funny. He was stuttering and sweating like he was nervous. David's mind questioned a connection between the scream and the old driver but he decided it was stupid. The man could hardly walk, what power did he have to make someone scream? David walked slowly up to driver. The driver looked like he wanted to turn around and run away.

"It's fine. We just finished."

The driver let out a sigh of relief. He motion for David and Morgan to follow him. When they reached the car the air still smelled like gasoline. They climbed back into their seats and sat in silence. Morgan kept her head turned to the window, but she couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Don't you think it's weird?"

"What are you talking about?"

Morgan took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "How she just…died. It's weird, I don't understand it."

"The doctor doesn't even understand it."

"I don't think its right. There has to be a reason."

"She did go insane…"

"Don't tell me you believe that?"

"I don't really care. It's like she died a long time ago anyway. It doesn't feel any different."

Morgan was quiet for awhile. "Do you think she might've lasted longer if we had visited her more often…talked to her more often?"

"No. When we did visit she didn't even know we were there."

"I think it might've helped."

David rolled his eyes. "You think it's your fault don't you?"

"NO! I mean…I feel bad for not talking to her more. I hate silences; I like it when people talk. Maybe she did too."

"Whenever you talked to her you usually got angry."

            "I know. Sometimes I think that I knew she was gonna die the whole time and I didn't want to get close to her. I think she knew it too and she spent her whole life thinking about it until death crept up behind her. That's why I hate silence…it's sneaky and it hurts people. It makes people crazy."

            "Did you know that Dad was going to die too?"

            David felt Morgan stiffen next to him. He said the wrong thing.

            "It was just an idea. It's probably wrong…"

            Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and David wanted to take back what he had said but he never got the chance. The car stopped in front of the school and they got out. They were greeted by the headmaster and guided into the school. Morgan was told to go to Transfiguration class and David was told to wait in the Slytherin common room to take his Potions exam. He sat there for what seemed like forever going over everything had studied the night before.

Thanks for reading! This is my first fic, so I hope you like it. Please review!