Darkness Before the Sun Rises
Chapter 7
"Draco!"
Cold wind swept over him as the voice of Narcissa Malfoy pulled the warm covers away from his body. Tiny goose pimples broke out across his skin as he reached for the sheets in an attempt to rid himself of the cold that seemed to clamor to him. "Oh, come now, Draco. Wake up. It's Christmas morning."
Draco squinted one eye open and looked at his mother. He groaned and buried his head deeper into the pillow, blocking out the harsh sunlight that spilled into his room.
"Draco Malfoy." His fathers' voice came from across the room and Draco jumped at the sound. "Get up out of that bed right now, son. Your mother is anxious to begin the celebrations. Now come on, your presents are downstairs waiting for you to open."
Draco eventually sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. He let out a loud yawn and his mother ruffled his bed hair with a chuckle. His feet touched the cold marble floor and he shivered at the contact until a house elf brought him his slippers and housecoat.
Narcissa wrapped an arm around her son's shoulders and walked with him through the manor to the sitting room below. There the adults had coffee, and Draco had tea while the house elves sorting the presents and handing each master their gifts. Each Malfoy took turns in opening one present while the other two looked on. It was a slow process, seeing how each member had a large amount of presents. They basked in the loveliness of each gift, showing gratitude to the one that gave it to them. It was a merry occasion for the three of them.
"Come here, son," his father beckoned. Draco complied. "Thank you for the wand case, Draco. It's just what I needed." His father hugged him and Draco returned the embrace wholeheartedly.
"Draco?" His mother called for his attention and Draco turned in his father's embrace to look at his beautiful mother.
"Yes, Mum?" He smiled at her.
"Thank you for the bracelet." She held her arms out and Draco moved from his father's embrace to that of his mother's. "The sapphires will look lovely with the new dress your father gave me." She kissed the top of his head.
"You're welcome, Mum." He kissed her cheek before pulling away and looking from his parents to the stack of unwrapped presents the house elves were now clearing to take to their rooms.
Draco Malfoy sighed out loud and ran a shaking hand through his blonde locks. The noise carried across the room and caused the attention of one witch to be focused on him.
"Malfoy?" she asked. "Are you alright?"
Draco rubbed his hands across his face and shifted before turning around, his mask back in place. She wouldn't be able to tell that he'd been thinking of the best Christmas he had ever had, or rather the best memory of his parents he had.
"What does it matter to you, Granger?" he scoffed, sitting down in one of the chairs.
She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the present in her hands.
Draco sat there, watching her every move. He watched as she meticulously ran her hand over the framed picture beneath her fingers. He couldn't see it, but he'd bet all the galleons he had that it was of he and her stupid friends. He suppressed the agitated groan that was begging to be released. It was annoying watching how much she adored them.
He admitted it. He hated their close friendship and the bond that they shared. He should have had that bond the day he offered his friendship to Harry Potter, but that offer was turned down for the friendship of aWeasley! It was utterly ridiculous and a hurtful blow to him, but he'd never admit it openly to anyone.
He watched as Hermione continued to stare at the picture and subconsciously run her finger back and forth over the faces of her friends. As he heard her sniffle, he immediately rose from the chair as he had an uncontrollable urge to reach out to her and tell her that they were fine. He went back to standing in front of the window, his back to her as he stared out at the cold grounds below.
He had a picture stored in an old box in his dormitory. It was the last happy memory he had of his family. It was the same Christmas memory he had been daydreaming about beforeshe interrupted his thoughts. It was but a few days before his father was called away to serve Voldemort and become one of his cronies. Lucius Malfoy had always served Lord Voldemort, but it wasn't until then that his father sold himself and his services to him.
Draco had lost all aspects of his father to that villain. His mother and father fought each other for months after that, pleading with him to change his ways, to come back to her; but her cries and pleas fell on deaf ears. His father, tiring of her begging and sobbing, placed the imperius curse on her and she no longer acted the way she used to. Instead of the loving and doting mother he had once had, Draco was now left with a mother who would sit for hours in her room staring out at the scenery beyond her bedroom window.
At a young age, Draco lost the father he had known because of Lord Voldemort, and Draco had hated the dark bastard ever since with more malice than any normal person could have.
As Draco stood there watching the snow fall, he could feel his eyes burn with unshed tears that wanted to escape and make their presence known for the first time in four years. He rubbed his eyes roughly against his palms, inhaling a deep breath as he took control of his emotions.
"Malfoy?"
Her voice sounded so quiet and welcoming he had to close his eyes and take a few slow breaths to control his escalating heartbeat.
"Are you okay?"
He could hear the concern in her voice. It was blatantly obvious, but he didn't want it. He didn't need for her to be worried about him.
He turned around and looked at her with what he hoped to be a mask of disgust for her presence. He hoped that she couldn't see what was going on inside his head, and even if she could, she didn't seem to notice it as she handed him three packages.
"Two of those came this morning by owl," she said, averting her eyes to look at anything but him.
He arched an eyebrow. "And the third?"
She opened and closed her mouth a few times before glancing up at him and then to the floor, "The third is from me."
A bubble of laughter emitted from him before he was able to stop it and when the sound died down, he looked at her and saw the sadness written in her eyes and he groaned aloud.
"All right, Granger. I'm sorry," he mumbled and sat the other two gifts down before tearing apart the silver wrapping of her present. He got to the box and lifted the lid and looked up at her then back to the object within the box.
"I thought you could use it. One can never have too many quills."
He took the quill out, throwing the box haphazardly onto the sofa next to the other gifts, and examined the fine piece of wood. The intricate patterns carved into the wood were some of the best he had seen in years. The form of a serpent coiled around the stick and the feather at the head of the quill was that of a Phoenix. He had never seen a quill with such mastery since his father had given him one for his first year at Hogwarts.
"If you don't like it, I can take it back," she said, fiddling with her fingers in a nervous gesture that he knew all too well.
He ran his finger across the carvings and examined it closer. "No, I think I'll keep it," he announced and noticed a look of surprise cross her face. "I rather like it."
She smiled. His stomach jumped and he quickly averted his eyes, inwardly scolding himself for thinking those thoughts again. As he turned away from her, he spotted the other two gifts that he had tossed aside before, and picked them up.
One was from his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange; he tore into the wrapping and opened the box to find yet another book on the dark arts. He rolled his eyes and chucked the book into the chair, knowing that Hermione was watching him very closely just a few feet away.
He tore into the second package, knowing for a fact that it was from his father, and opened the box to find a dagger with a piece of parchment wrapped around the blade. He took the dagger in his hand and unraveled the letter from it.
Draco,
Your silence has not gone unnoticed as you have hoped. Your time to join the ranks is fast approaching. Start preparing yourself to serve your master; this dagger will be very useful when we go into battle against Dumbledore and his ridiculous followers.
Make me proud, son.
Your father,
Lucius Malfoy
Draco's seethed and he balled the letter into his fists. Blinded by anger for his father and Voldemort, he gipped the dagger at the handle and sent it barreling across the room.
Hermione let out a scream, ducking as the dagger swept by her and into the painting of Lady Pricilla. The dagger missed Hermione by a few mere inches, but Lady Pricilla wasn't as lucky and she gave a great cry and rushed from her painting into that of Lord Shepherd.
Draco's narrowed his eyes at Hermione as he tried to figure out why she had screamed before realisation of what he had done dawned upon him. He took a deep breath and was at her side before he even had time to rationalise with himself what his actions meant t.
"Are you okay?" His voice held the panic he felt and he placed his hands atop her shoulders, gripping them. Her face was white and her breathing erratic.
He stood rooted to the spot as she reached for his forearm. At her gentle touch, all his conscious thoughts left and all he could focus on was her touch and her breathing. He knew this was wrong and the little nagging voice in his head was arguing the same, but for the first time in his life he went with what he felt, instead of what his head was telling him to do.
"What in the name of Heaven did you do that for?!" she suddenly cried, backing away from him as her hand came to her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear and something else that he'd never seen cross her features before.
He shook his head, not knowing if he could answer her question as to why he had did what he did, and backed as far away from her as he could. Quickly, he decided that he had to get out of there. He mumbled a quick apology and a message that he was going to the library before he darting from the common room, leaving Hermione to clear up the mess he had left.
Draco ran a hand through his hair as his footsteps echoed through the corridors. He couldn't believe he just did that - apologised to her! He was a Malfoy and -
And dammit, he cared for her.
He stopped dead in his tracks as the weight of his thoughts bared down upon him.
There was no denying it. Somewhere in his fucked up head, he cared for her.
As stupid as it sounded, he knew it was true. He knew not how or when it happened, but if had.
"This will not be made known," he whispered to himself. "I don't care. Well I do care, but that's not for her or anyone else to know. Ever."
He gave a grunt and opened the doors of the library, marching through the place as if he owned it. He had planned to research the Placidus Casuscurse later in the day, but after the events in the common room, he was going to get an earlier start. His favourite table awaited him in the back of the Library and he made his way around the many shelves looking for the books he thought would contain the answers he was looking for. He threw them on the table with a loud thud and flopped into the high back chair whilst opening the book nearest him.
"What a lovely Christmas this has turned out to be," Hermione muttered, repairing the torn picture of Lady Pricilla.
"The day is still young, my dear," spoke Lady Pricilla, giving a small nod of her head when Hermione looked at her. "Christmas day 'tis the day when all faults are forgotten and hopes for a better tomorrow. It's the day of hope, love and celebration. Try not to look so glum, Miss Granger, 'tis a happy day and you should enjoy it."
Hermione gave a faint smile. "I would be happy if I had Harry and Ron," she mumbled.
"You'll all three be together soon. I'm sure of it, my dear."
"I hope you're right," Hermione whispered, checking the common room for anymore debris from Malfoy's fit.
Her eyes fell upon the picture frame she had been holding earlier and a sound between that of a hiccup and a sob escaped and she rushed towards it, reaching out and pulling it protectively to her chest. Her sobs echoed throughout the room and she fell into a nearby armchair, rocking back and forth with the picture wrapped in her arms.
If this was supposed to be the day when all were happy and carefree, why was it that she felt as though there were a huge gaping hole in her heart?
Placidus Amentis: A mixture of the Amentis root and the wax of a whale; it produces a crème that can cure measles. It can only be used once in a wizards' lifetime as it is highly toxic and if used again it will result in a very painful death….
Draco Malfoy let out a sigh as he continued to skim through the list of all things beginning with Placidus. Who would have ever thought there'd be so many? He was down right annoyed and hungry. It was already noon and he had yet to eat anything. He'd been through over half the books he'd retrieved from the shelves and not a single one held the information he was looking for.
He picked up another book and skimmed the index searching for anything that mentioned the curse.
"Placidus Amentis, Placidus Bantook, Placidus Boral, Placidus Casus!!… About fucking time!" He turned to the page listed, pulled his chair to the table and set the book out in front of him, his index finger following the words on the page.
Placidus Casus:
Pronunciation: Pla-see-dus Cas-us
An ancient curse dating from Egypt during the Late Period (400 B.C. – 332 B.C.) It is unknown who created this curse. After its creation, it was used for only a few hundred years before it disappeared. However, the curse was discovered again in 1983 by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Effects: The curse grasps at the insides of its victims and quite literally squeezes the insides, causing sharp, icy pains that can leave the victim in a state of either unconsciousness or in some odd cases the victim may be in a trance-like state. However, in a few remarkable cases, the victim experiences very little to no pain at all, but will eventually suffer the fate of death.
Anti-dote: The counter curse to the Placidus Casus must be performed by someone who has been exposed to the Dark Arts. The potion is to be brewed on the night when the old year crosses over to the new one and administered to the victim along with the spell.
For more information on Placidus Casus and its counter curse, see "Victor Monrose's, Vials of Death".
Planctus Dracill:, a well known plant with highly susceptible roots. It's used as an agent in helping cure common foot fungus…
"Dammit!" Draco's fist connected with the table, causing it to rattle and a few books to tumble to the ground. "Oh yes, that was really fucking helpful. Stupidfucking book."
He tossed the book on the table with the other scattered books, then hopped up and marched to the reference desk, looking up Victor Monrose's, Vials of Death. He searched under every possible category he could think of, but each came up with the same result – fuck all.
"What's the point of having a book that mentions it without its companion?! Damn this school." He ran a hand through his hair, kicked the table, and groaned out loud.
There was only one way in which to get the book.
His father's library.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked up to see her Head of House standing over her, a worried expression etched in the older woman's wrinkles. Hermione wiped her eyes and pushed her hair away from her face.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall?" She stood as she spoke.
"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Minerva McGonagall placed a calm hand on the younger woman's shoulder. In all the years that she had known Hermione Granger, she had never seen the girl look so distraught and emotional. Hermione was the one that everyone turned to for leadership and guidance when things went wrong, and now Minerva could see that it was she who needed someone to look to and help her this time.
"Yes, Professor, I'm alright." She tried to give a small smile.
With one look at the girl in front of her, Professor McGonagall could tell that Hermione was anything but "alright". Her eyes were red and glass, and her hair was in disarray, however the professor gave no indication that she had noticed this.
"Hermione?"
Hermione looked up at her teacher, surprise on her face at hearing her use her first name. Professor McGonagall had never called her that before.
The older woman gestured for Hermione to sit down, and when she finally did, Minerva sat beside her. She wasn't sure how Hermione would take the news she was about to give her, so all precautionary measures were to be taken.
"Hermione, there's been some news." Minerva spoke very slowly as Hermione looked at her. "Mr. Weasley has been found."
I know it has been a long wait for this chapter, and I apologize for it, but real life got in the way and this chapter was probably the second hardest that I'm going to have to write for this story. The other will be in about five or so more chapters, maybe more. But, I finally got this out and I know I left it at a cliffehanger, but it needed to be done! :D I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter and please drop a review. If you have questions about anything leave them in your review and I will answer them in the next chapter.