Prisoners to Love
Summary: After a surprise incident hours after the Final Battle, Draco Malfoy is being blamed with murder. As he is tumbling into a pit of prejudice and deceit from his closest "friends," Hermione must inevitably make a choice: testify to try and help Draco, the innocent by her eyes; or remain silent and let Draco rot in a cell within the dungeons of Azkaban for eternity.
Prologue:
The lights went out. And all I could see was Light.
We all sat (some of us were actually seated magically with strings holding limbs up in peculiar positions—Luna and Mr. Weasley) huddled in a corner of the overcrowded hospital. The hospital was somewhere off of the coast of Iceland, in a Wizarding community called Grenvik. Everyone's face was in that pained expression between relief and exhaustion—every muscle in the jaw tense but at the same time, that forlorn look in their eyes that suggested desolate abandon from their problems.
I rubbed at the scar on my head, it was hurting again, and I looked at the mutilated mess that was called my left hand. That hand was the thing that clutched Voldemort's last sliver of a soul. That was the hand that strangled it, and then released it like a breath of wind into oblivion. I had no fingers, and all that was left of my palm was this wretchedly twisted and bloodied piece of skin. Of course, it was now bandaged and the magical potions currently caused the unpleasant tingle of digits building up again.
"Harry," interrupted the gentle and tentative voice of Hermione, "wait a second." She nursed bright red skin from a burning hex—one of the Death Eaters had somehow gotten to her. I can't believe all of this happened because of me. It was just supposed to be me, alone. It was my solitary journey—the journey of a hero. And, yet, too many people loved me to allow that to happen. Not to mention, too many Death Eaters cared for Voldemort's souls to not try and stop me.
The final battle, a cliché in my mind for ages, had started much differently than anyone could have imagined. I was alone on a hill in Shleyvborg, Iceland (another abandoned Ghost Town of Iceland). I reached into the hole I dug, and right in the center of a pile of human bones was the last Horcrux. As my hands clasped around the shiny glass containment, Lucius Malfoy screamed in terror. Where did he come from? I don't know. I grabbed my wand, but before I could curse him, Ron's voice was heard. Then, another Death Eater tried to curse Ron. Slowly, good and evil faced off. Order members appearing through the trees, Death Eaters came leaping from behind an old shack at the bottom of the hill. It was a bitter battle, and I can't believe that I have actually faced Voldemort for the last time. He had bright red eyes, and shiny, scaly white skin. All the power in the world centered in one small area. I'm glad most of my close friends are alive and surround me now. Except Ron, my best mate. He fought valiantly, but I wish—I just wish that McNair hadn't gotten to him in the very climax of the battle. Hit by the Killing Curse. At least he didn't suffer, then.
My scar burns again. "…but since you've abolished all of Voldemort and his Horcruxes, why would it still—Harry, are you listening to me!"
I blinked and a pain shot through my head again. Ginny got up and struggled to reach me. She had her mouth sewn shut, it was gruesome but it was the only way to stop her from emitting poisonous gas every time she spoke to us. Hermione silenced, pale as a bleached clean sheet.
Ginny began dabbing at the sweat pouring down my face, her eyes sparkled with concern. "I'm sure it's nothing, Hermione. Voldemort is dead after all," I managed to say through gritted teeth.
Remus confusedly reached out and pulled back my hair, as Tonks kneeled at my other side. Everyone became blurry as I struggled for air. My forehead was literally burning. I felt as if the flesh was melting like a big piece of wax from my face.
I had no control. My voice was shrieking hysterically; it sounded foreign to me and much too loud to really be emitted from a barely grown wizard. Fred and Bill got up from the other end of the grand room and rushed off to find a nurse, as the entire room silenced. People were staring at me. A light erupted from my scar, burning red. I desperately looked to Hermione, who was the only one of my closest that hadn't rushed to my side. She was paralyzed in her seat, staring into the darkness that lay at the end of a roped off corridor.
"Oh, God, Harry," Tonks whispered, mortified.
"Harry," Remus shouted. "Harry hold on, we can get through this, we can!"
Ginny's eyes flashed toward mine. The blurriness cleared for a second, and I saw with pristine vision. Three worlds collided into one—Muggle, Magical, and the Eternal. A teardrop fell from her dirty, scarred face. It landed coolly on the back of my hand.
The lights went out. And all I could see was light.
AN: Ahh, I've got to stop here for now. I promise it will turn out reaaaaaally long and reaaaally good. Please review, I really want feedback. This is just the beginning! Don't worry, it's not in first person beyond this chapter I don't think. There will be plenty of smut, Draco/Hermione (duh), and drama along the way. Immediately. I'm sure you can already tell.
deese avec les cheveux rouge
