Disclaimer: HP belongs to JK Rowling.
The wedding took place at The Burrow, in the Weasley's garden. Mrs. Weasley had magically enlarged it to fit all the guests. As Hermione watched the two lovers stand up and make their vows, she admired the beautiful decorations and reluctantly had to admit that Fleur looked beautiful in her dress.
Hermione sat at the front alongside Harry, Ron, Fred and George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Charlie was the best man and Ginny was one of two bridesmaids. She looked rather uncomfortable as she stood in her champagne-coloured dress, long flaming red hair a stark contrast to the other blonde bridesmaid, Gabrielle, Fleur's sister. Fleur had suggested charming Ginny's hair "just for ze wedding!" but Ginny had adamantly refused. Percy was the only Weasley missing from the wedding as he had not shown up nor even replied to the invitation declining.
Hermione found her mind drifting at the celebration dinner; wizards and witches continued to stand up, making long boring toast after toast to the newlyweds. She let her mind drift back to the night of Dumbledore's death. She refused to tell either of her best friends that it continued to plague her thoughts. She remembered hearing screams… the look on Snape's face as she and Luna let him pass…determined, stony, cold, yet troubled…all the curses flying around, narrowly missing them… A sinking feeling landed in the pit of her stomach. Dumbledore…dead. Then, suddenly, as if she had forgotten all about it and only just been hit with the realization – Malfoy. What had happened to him? She remembered Harry telling her about Malfoy and Dumbledore's conversation up at the tower…"he kept stalling for time...he lowered his wand...he wouldn't do it..." it had been after hearing about that encounter that she had known that despite all his nasty words, misguided views and cruel taunts and tricks, he was not truly an evil wizard.
She blinked her watery eyes hastily to prevent any tears from spilling. What was Voldemort forcing him to do right now? Was Malfoy being made to murder? Was he being punished? Surely he didn't deserve what hemust be going through, Hermione thought to herself.
Ron noticed Hermione sniff and gave her an odd, quizzical look, seemingly mistaking her emotion for the opposite and thinking she was touched. "His speech wasn't that good," he mumbled under his breath.
Glad of a reason not to admit why she was teary-eyed, Hermione simply flapped a hand at him, waving him off in the pretence of listening intently. Instead, she focused on keeping her tears at bay. The words Poor Malfoy kept repeating in her head. An overwhelming sense of pity washed over her. Poor, poor Malfoy.
XOXOXOXOXOX
Draco Malfoy prowled a dark, empty-looking street in Muggle London moodily as he glared at the three figures walking ahead of him. Heavy footsteps behind him belonged to Amycus, a fellow Death Eater.
"Hurry up," Amycus growled at Malfoy.
Draco scowled and gripped his wand tighter under his traveling cloak as he quickened his pace to draw closer to Bellatrix, Alecto and Severus Snape. He said nothing in complaint though. This was not like Hogwarts, where he could retort rudely back and perhaps throw out a hex or two, thus bullying the offender into treating him with more respect and fear. Death Eaters didn't bother restraining themselves; they would perform the crucio on him if they felt it suitable, or simply if they felt like it.AndDraco had fallen victim to their whimsbefore; they took it upon themselves tobully and pick on him, being the youngest. The only unspoken rule they seemed to follow was not to kill a fellow Death Eater; that task was left to Voldemort if he wished it so.
Lately, the Dark Lord had been sending him on almost every dangerous mission, as though somehow hoping he would get killed or perhaps that he might learn a thing or two. Draco scoffed inwardly. It was all utter rubbish, if this was his idea of punishment. He was not complaining, though. He'd rather this than be facing the Dark Lord alone. The missions gave him a false sense of importance. Still, he would have killed Dumbledore had Snape not interrupted and taken over, he told himself. But deep inside he knew it was not so.
"Here," hissed Bellatrix, coming to stop outside a dingy old abandoned-looking Muggle house. The others all halted outside it.
"On my signal, we enter and kill any threats. Make sure nobody escapes. I'll retrieve the locket. No mistakes," Bellatrix glared at Draco, who glared steadily back, restraining from an impatient toss of the head.
He'd been on countless of these missions already but had killed nobody – it was as though his mind was bursting to do it, to scream out those two words that would end one's life, but his lips wouldn't do the bidding and his voice did him no justice either. He'd taken to performing the Cruciatus curse instead, watching, almost wincing, as the screams of horror and pain escaped his victim's lips and they writhed desperately on the ground, clutching their head, eyes either scrunched up or rolling in their sockets. He'd leave them there for another to finish off.
Draco glanced nervously around. This was a stupid mission anyway! Kill everyone in sight whilst Bellatrix ran along to bring the Dark Lord back a stupid locket? Why must they kill anyone at all? Why not steal the bloody locket without any fuss? Things were much easier that way. He slunk along behind Snape, wand out and ready. Bellatrix and the others went round the back of the house. He and Snape waited in silence until the eerie hoot of an owl signaled it was time.
"Alohorama," Snape uttered in a low voice, and a click was heard as the door unlocked. They entered the house. At first, it appeared that nobody was home. Draco could not suppress a tiny wave of relief. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere a jet of light hit him square in the shoulder and his arms and legs snapped together, wand dropping to the floor with a clatter. He fell stiffly to the floor with a dull thud.
Snape ducked and dodged two more spells aimed at him and pointed his wand at the short, pudgy man who was issuing them with a terrified look on his face; "Avada Kedavra!" he said simply; the jet of green light did not miss it's target and the man fell dead to the floor.
Draco's eyes rolled to Snape's face, which was set in a grim expression as he said emotionlessly for him to "get up," undoing the body-binding curse. Draco collected his wand and stood up, feeling slightly foolish and embarrassed. The other Death Eaters did not scare him but Snape, whom he used to admire, trust and respect, now caused him to feel uncomfortable and cold in his presence.
They moved on to the next room where they found Alecto standing over two more motionless bodies. "This way," she jerked her head to the right and Draco followed her and Snape down a narrow hall to a bedroom. Bellatrix and Amycus were in there and whipped around as soon as the others entered.
"It's not here," Bellatrix said bluntly. "Let's go."
Without a word, the five Death Eaters left the house quickly, Snape bringing up the rear and turning around briefly once outside to cast the Dark Mark above it.
"Our Lord will not be pleased," Amycus grunted in a low voice.
The others remained silent.
Draco's eyes fixed upon the glowing Mark in the sky and he glanced down at his own branded Mark, the bitter taste of bile in his mouth as he turned to go.
A/N: Chapters will be longer from hereon. Also – Draco/Hermione interaction coming up.