Another Chance?
By Cedar1
A/N Thanx to Vampiress-Alexiel, Megz, jessica, Allayne, ellabelle1, mesmer, thallion, steph for all your lovely reviews! on a completely different note, on a bit of a rant i've just tried booking a ticket on the net for a train, and due to some mistakes and a clevery hidden point have had to pay 20 quid extra,
grrrr.... so to that company (u know who u are) u are so not forgiven!
Sorry bout that... but hope u enjoy this chapter and review please! (meant to be read pitifully)
Important note: Forget about splitting the chapter, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger and still have not finished it. So consider this a separate part.
But rather enjoyed writing this one, came a lot easier than the other, hope u guys like it...
Chapter 12: Loving a monster
Previously
No they would have to go far, far away, disappear from everyone and everything they were familiar with. But then could she do that with a man who destroyed her as much as he loved her?
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What the hell did Weasley have? He had be so sure in his belief that by the end of today he would be walking out, laughing in the faces of his accusers. Ten years had gone, and not even a blemish on his record. They always had nothing. He was so careful, there was no way they could have got any evidence. He prided himself in the way he played with their surveillance teams and there could be no one brave enough to stand up against him. Malfoys weren't called bastards for nothing. Yet even if they did not fear him, they would certainly fear the rebelling dark side. They would be as soon as dead if they were to help imprison one of the key members of the resistance. Who would be foolish enough to do that?
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Then he heard it - " Mrs Pansy Flint."
And the words that came from his lips were not the ones that he had planned...
"Oh Fuck."
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Chapter 12: Loving a Monster
It was hard trying to put up a mask of grace and composure when in reality she felt that she was going to shatter into a million pieces. The nerves were tearing her apart and her heart was beating so fast that she thought it was going to explode inside of her. The silence of the dungeon had been broken by the announcement of her name and the surprised gasps and excited chatter of those gathered accompanied her walk to the witness stand. Yet it wasn't those wizards and witches who had induced the nervous energy that swallowed up all of her inner poise but those that had remained silent. Those who were hidden in the darkest corners of the courtroom. Those whose arms were inscribed with the intricate design of the dark mark. It was they she feared. It hadn't entered her mind before now. She had been so blinded by her jealously that the actual consequences of her actions had passed her by. However she could practically feel the weight of them bearing down upon her now. She remembered a comment made by Weasley and Potter about protection, but she had waved them off, putting silent their concerns. Pansy, you stupid idiot, she thought, berating herself, she had just successfully signed her life away on someone who probably didn't give a shit about her anyway. She turned her head slightly, facing the cause of all her problems. He was the only person not looking at her in the entire room, his gaze was fixed in an altogether different direction. She tracked his intense stare to a witch who sat at the far end of the public area. It took her awhile to recognise the woman. The mass of frizzy hair covering the majority of her face, but it eventually hit her,
viciously striking a chord in her heart.
Granger.
Even now he would still only look at her, even when she had his life in her hands, and that green monster that had started this whole process in the first place rose within her, crushing all her fears.
Well if she was going to die. So were they.
With renewed confidence she turned to the faces of the Wizengamot, who were all looking at her curiously, trying to understand exactly why she was doing this. But the thing was they probably never would. Nobody would. Well perhaps Weasley, but then he was nobody.
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So this was it. This is what they had been hiding. Pansy. The shock had burst the bubble of hush and the atmosphere suddenly electrified with pure anticipation at the secrets that the new witness may bring to light. Yet Hermione did not partake in the chatter instead her eyes remained trained on Draco. The smirk had fallen and his lips had been pulled into two thin lines.
But it were the eyes that gave him away. The eyes that were normally so hard, so unreadable were now darting from side to side. Flicking from door to door, searching for an exit.
Desperate. Scared. That tiny light of hope that she had kept alight for him flickered out. He was never one to look anxious, especially not in public. It was enough for Hermione to lose faith.
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"Could you please state your full name for the court." Frickin ordered, beginning the proceedings.
"Pansy Flint, previously Parkinson."
"And who are you and what have you come to tell the court."
Pansy wetted her lips before starting, " I was a school mate of Draco Malfoy's back in Hogwarts and was. Sorry am a member of the Death Eaters together with Draco Malfoy."
"That is a strong accusation Mrs Flint. Draco Malfoy has already been trialled for his participation in Death Eater related activities and had been found innocent." The statement was said by a rather portly witch who sat further back.
"Perhaps. But the incompetence of a prosecution team and the importance of money can bear a lot of weight on a verdict." The bold comment raised a few eyebrows as well flushing the cheeks of the woman who had questioned her allegations. Frickin broke through the tension created with a clear of his throat before starting to speak again.
"Is that so Mrs Flint. Well. Well what evidence can you provide us with to back up that claim."
"I can prove that Draco. Sorry Mr Malfoy has partaken in improper conduct during times of war, has been involved in the torture of muggles and has also kidnapped and assaulted a member of the auror department."
It was hard to describe Hermione's feelings at this point. Improper conduct? Torturing muggles? Things that Hermione felt so strongly about. Things that Hermione had classed in her mind as being wrong, bad...evil. Things that Pansy could prove Draco had done. She felt hot.
She felt like she was burning from a sudden fever. She felt sick and dizzy, her head heavy with the thoughts that were multiplying in her head. And yet at the same time she felt cold and empty,
almost as if her soul was leaking out of her. Had she really fallen in love with the devil? No.
No.
She couldn't have. She could never love a person like that. Draco. Draco had done some bad things in his time, but it was during the war. They had all done some bad things in that time,
hadn't they?
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"Pardon my rudeness Mrs Flint. But how can we trust you?"
"I understand your weariness. But over the past years I've made a habit of collecting my memories in a pensieve." On cue a guard brought in a small bowl shaped from the finest white marble. All eyes were fixed on the light that the silvery contents within emitted. He placed it on the table that magically appeared in the centre of the room. Having done his job the wizard completed his task by handing a sheet of paper to Fricken, who in turn read through the proffered document before once more clearing his throat.
"Well it appears that the pensieve has already been prepared."
Pansy merely nodded, knowing fully what the word 'prepared' meant as did every body else.
Over the past years pensieves had played an important part in trials, memories proving far more reliable than the words said in the stand. However the process by which each member of the Wizengamot would be sucked into the swirling liquid was too time consuming and drained far too much energy. Though with time spells had been invented that enabled the entire Wizengamot, in fact, the entire attendance to experience the memories, with the witness themselves appearing only when they wanted and only to who they wanted. This was what the word 'prepared' meant, and with just a tap of his wand and a muttered word all who gathered found themselves being drawn into a whirl of black.
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In a split second they were all taken back nine years. Their feet hitting the baking, hot ground hard. Hermione looked around, her hand shielding her eyes from the harsh rays of the sun that beat down upon her. The Hurkpunkle trees on the right. The crimson flag of the Order wilting on its pole in the distance, the still air preventing it from flying high. It all came flooding back to her, in a tidal wave of memories that she had hoped to forget. She couldn't place the exact spot but the location was that of Gilringham field, the piece of land where the most ferocious of the fighting had commenced during the war. With the heat causing sweat to seep out of her flesh it was obvious that it was sometime in the summer, so the war was near its end she concluded. Swimming her way through the memories that filled her head Hermione tried to remember what she had been doing.
The war had begun suddenly. Voldemort's attack had surprised them all, even Dumbledore.However that didn't mean they were not prepared. Roles had already been decided and by the time war was officially declared everybody just slipped into their designated jobs, quickly and without complaint. She herself had been an integral part of the strategic team, cooped up in a tiny room, head bowed over maps in the early mornings and for the rest of the day she fought like everybody else. Her station had been Gilringham field. But she hadn't realised that Draco too had been here. It probably wouldn't have mattered, at the time she had considered him the lowest of the low. Her heart had still not fully recovered following that night after graduation and the anger that filled her had been stronger than ever.
What would she have done had she come face to face with him?
The question however remained unanswered in her head as voices from behind her made her turn around sharply. Instinctively she wanted to pull out her wand that was secreted in her inner robe pocket, and in fact her fingers had already found their way around the smooth rosewood. However there so no need, for even though they were so close to her they took no notice of her, indeed they didn't even glance in her direction. She walked towards them, her wand still at hand. There were two figures, a taller one and a shorter one, both wearing black robes that had patches of dust marring the fine material they were no doubt made off. The first voice she instantly recognised. Draco's.
"What the fuck do you want us to do? Leave them here so they can run back to Dumbledore and tell him who we are. Think about it you bint. They know who we are. They can stand up against us in court and then we'd be well and truly fucked up wouldn't we?"
Them? There was no one else here. She watched confused as the smaller person, who she presumed was Pansy - for they still wore their masks - bow her head, deep in thought. Head still downcast, a tiny voice could be heard coming from her, words so quiet that Hermione had to strain to hear them.
"I know. But Draco what can we do. Voldemort's dead. We've surrendered already. We can't kill them. It's against the law. We can't kill outside of war."
Hermione caught the tears that punctuated the girl's argument and could see the fingers that trembled at the ends of the long armsleeves. She was afraid. Hermione had never seen Pansy look so vulnerable. She always seemed so cold, so harsh and yet here Hermione felt something akin to sympathy for the girl. Draco meanwhile was standing stock-still on the spot, his conscious battling with the ingrained need to survive.
In the silence, the sudden sound of shoes against gravel caused Hermione to shift her attention away from the two. Stepping to her right she saw the source of the noise that had been shielded by Pansy and Draco, and she gasped in shock. Crouching in a huddle on the floor were a mass of bruised and battered bodies, the tattered bands that were on their forearms showing them to be members of the order. Hermione ran towards them, her fingers trying to undo the knots of rope that tied their hands together, but her hands simply slipped through them. Tears of frustration were coursing down her burning cheeks, and she collapsed on the floor next to them.
Despite the wails of despair that left her lips the girl next to her did nothing, her red eyes remaining fixed on an invisible point in the distance.
In truth Hermione wasn't sure whether she was crying at the state of the people beside her or the fact that the man she loved was so casually proposing to kill them. She turned back to him, staring hard, trying to make him realise that killing people was never an option, no matter what.
"There's no other option. It's either us or them," came the determined voice of her lover. Hermione's stomach turned at his decision. She knew he had killed, but somehow lately that particular piece of information had slipped into the part of the brain where she never went. It was like she was deliberately trying to forget that part of his life, trying to erase his past. In the background she vaguely heard Pansy's meek acceptance...
"Fine you do what you want. But me, I'm having none of it."
Pansy walked away, removing herself away from the scene of a mass murder. And in slow motion Hermione watched Draco remove the mask from his face, throw it on the ground and move towards the prisoners. With a look of indifference on his face the young Draco hauled each one of them onto their feet and with the efficiency of a trained assassin pointed his want at each, killing them with statements of Avada Kedavra? He moved on from one person to another, and the way their mouths rounded to an 'o' of pain during the act having no affect on his composure whatsoever. Whereas Hermione was curled up in the fetal position, her head buried in her hands. For despite the fact that they were silenced by the silencio charm she heard each of their screams. They echoed in her head again and again. Together with the thump of their lifeless bodies hitting the ground. And it was through the gaps between her fingers did she see Draco pick up the mask he had discarded earlier and calmly place it back on his face.
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Still crying, the bodies, the ground, the sky dissolved around her. Their colours turning to different shades as she was brought into another time and another place. It was dark now,
with the only strip of light being cast by a lone flickering streetlamp. Whispers from the shadows ruffled the strands of her wild curls and caused the hairs on her neck to stand up on end. Then there were feet near her head and Hermione looked up to find herself in the centre of a group of Death Eaters, and her heart stopped beating. She saw nothing but the white of their eyes and the colour of their pupils glittering between the eyeholes of their mask. Suddenly they began to move away from her, walking quickly and purposefully. Hermione struggled to get up, her legs shaking violently beneath her. It was as if she knew what she was going to see but she didn't want to believe it until she actually saw it. She followed them to the steps of the house. A normal blue door with the number twelve displayed on it in gold metal their only obstacle. Hermione looked round, trying to figure out where she was. Even in the bad light she could see no evidence of magic. It was a muggle neighbourhood she realised in horror. Turning back to the Death Eaters she saw them blast the door away from the hinges in a flash of blue. The sounds of screams filled with terror soon began propelling her to run inside the house, following one of the Death Eaters up the stairs.
Her legs moving beneath her she found herself in a bedroom and as soon as she stepped over the altar her legs immediately froze. A girl. A tiny girl was shrieking, her high voice shattering Hermione's eardrums. So much agony. Her thin arms were wrapped around her small frame, trying desperately to quell the immense pain that was ripping her insides to shreds. Sweat was dripping from her small face, together with the fresh blood that was falling from her bottom lip, that she was now biting hard. In the midst of all this the Death Eater she had followed was laughing merrily, her piercing giggles mocking the child's attempts at defence. Whereas the other, who had been there already, maintained their rigid hold of their wand that was pointed at the girl. Granite grey eyes concentrating behind the mask so not to destroy the link between killer and victim.
Draco.
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The scene began to change again, objects blurring and then merging again to give a different setting. But Hermione couldn't take any more, she needed to get out and as soon as her surroundings began to solidify she tried to find an exit. Her hands pushing against things,
hoping to open some secret passageway out of Pansy's memories. Yet as before her fingers simply passed through the stone, the wood. And then it started again. The screams of suffering.
I've got to get out. I've got to get out. That was her only thought, but it was useless there was no way out. She was trapped and she collapsed on the floor in defeat. Hands covered her ears trying to block out the noise. She was rocking. Thinking of anything but this. Anything but him. A hand suddenly grasped her shoulder, while another tried to rip her right hand away from her ear.
"Don't you want to watch? Don't you want to see what your beloved does?" A voice taunted her.
Hermione shook her head. No. She couldn't take any more.
But the voice continued.. "Have a look Granger. Go one."
Her eye's snapped open and she found herself looking straight into clear green slants set in the beautifully carved face of Pansy Parkinson.
"I don't want to," Hermione screamed back to her.
"Tough shit Granger. I love Draco. He loves you. Life's not fair." With that Pansy forcefully lifted Hermione, grabbing her chin with her hand, making Hermione look behind her.
It was her. Her hair was filthy, greasy, matted, in a mass of disorganised tangles. It was her who had been screaming. But Hermione couldn't remember this. Wait. It was the cell that Draco had tossed her into those many weeks ago. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a figure in the shadows. Pansy? Then she saw him on the opposite side. His hair messy, almost as if he had been constantly running through it with rough fingers.
He stood in front of her.
"Tell me where they are goddammit!" He yelled in her face.
She merely gazed up at him, eyes glazed.
That's when it happened. The hand flew though the air slapping her soundly on her cheek,
catching the corner of her lip, drawing blood.
The hand of the Hermione that watched was now resting against the bruise that was the remains of that hit.
"You know now don't you?" came that voice again, Pansy's voice.
"You know what it's like to love a monster."
A/N Please review if uve read till here! Thanx!
(really wanna reach the 100 mark in review world, so please .....) Gotta love an evil Draco - he's so much fun to write! 1/2 big chapter/s left to go and a smaller last one (which am writing at mo) and all will be done! have actually decided whats gonna happen at the end, huge achievement for me cos am norm the most indecisive person ever.
NE how looking forward to hearing what u thought about it.
Luv Cedar1
