Title: The Trials of the Hidden
Disclaimer: All characters are property of the goddess J.K Rowling. If I was her, I would not be here. So don't sue!
Warnings: Slash(Harry/Draco), some A/U, maybe some angst later on (but not TOO much, it gets really sappy)
Rating: Mostly T(PG13), maybe some M(PG16) later on.
Summary: Draco's loyalties are certain. Everybody knows who he is going to serve. Or do they? When a dark secret breaks out among the circle of Death Eaters, Draco's world is thrown upside-down. In this new reality, where your enemies are now your allies, who will he lean on for support?
Wow, such a long time! I'm sorry for the delay, but I was so busy with midterms. And now, a question. Should I continue this story on ffn? Or should I discontinue it and then just email it to you? No pressure with chappies for me! Let me know.
And now, individual review responses. Only 1 this time! Hoping there'll be more...
badluck-ngprod: Thanks for reviewing AGAIN! I'm glad you thought Ron and Hermione were portrayed well. I wasn't sure how I did, but it's comforting to know I did well.
And my story takes place in AU, which means the 6th BOOK HASN'T HAPPENED.
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Ah, the beauty of the winter morning. Snowflakes still falling fresh in the chilling breeze, and the brave remaining birds call bright. It was too bad that no happy little sparrows had chirped near Harry Potter's ear that morning. At the very least, he wouldn't have been late for Transfiguration.
"Shit!"
The Fat Lady started awake with a shock as her portrait was violently thrown aside.
"No need to be so polite, dear! Of course I routinely watch out for late students!" she screamed after Harry's receding back, his book bag flying after him.
"Sorry!" he called back, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder
Grumbling to herself about the lack of respect from young ones these days(hadn't Neville Longbottom demanded the password lately?) the Fat Lady grudgingly replaced herself.
It was then she noticed the dirty piece of parchment lying carelessly on the ground, with hastily scribbled writing all over it.
Sighing tragically, she hoped Harry would buy himself some new writing material soon. That little scrap of paper didn't look like it was good for anything anymore.
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Draco had been in a nasty mood all day. By first period, he had already sent a first-year sobbing down the hallway. Third period found Peeves cussing madly as he swung in a glass cage over the Tranfiguration classroom. Stained glass, of course. The Malfoys liked to do things right.
Not that any of this bothered Draco. He considered it a form of stress relievation, and by the end of the day he was as cool as a cucumber. Or so he seemed as he walked along the Gryffindor tower hallway close to curfew. If someone had bothered to come along at that moment, or even slightly nearer to the Fat Lady's portrait, they would have heard a very undignified whoop of triumph, followed by a loud thump as a shockingly disheveled blonde raced down in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons, a torn piece of parchment fluttering wildly after him.
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"Harry! Harry!"
Harry turned to see Hermione waving madly at him from down the Charms hallway. Behind her, Ron was letting out ragged breaths and rubbing his arm where it had very nearly been torn off by the bushy-haired girl's enthusiasm.
"HarrylookI'vefounditoutitwassoobviousIdontknowwhyIdidntthinkofitbefore-"
Harry stared at her, mouth agape. Behind Hermione, Ron rolled his eyes as if to say, 'I know.'
"Hermione, look, is this about Drac-Malfoy?"
Since when did he call Malfoy by his first name? But the platinum blond's expression in the Great Hall the previous morning still seemed to haunt him.
Hermione nodded enthusiastically, perhaps missing Harry's downtrodden expression, and the common fact that he wasn't all that quick on the uptake over the past few days.
"Oh, Harry, how could we miss it? All the Slytherins -the pureblooded ones,that is- have been told to be initiated this Christmas!
"You-know-who, oh stop it Harry, all right, Voldemort, must have decided on an earlier takeover then planned!"
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Draco had run all the way from the Gryffindor Tower to the Slytherin dungeons, and had vowed, on the way, to resume his regular exercises. The distance had taken its toll on the Slytherin, whose blond hair, had anyone been allowed to come near him in this uncouth state, was slightly damp and stuck to his forhead. But none of this for the first time in his life, even unnerved him. Because in his hot, sweaty hand, he held the private diary entry of one Harry Potter.
Taking a deep, shuddery breath, Draco scanned over the grubby page. The writing's style, his snide writing tutor would sniff disdainfully, looked like a chicken had committed suicide. Draco could still remember his father's cutting comments as he struggled to end the Malfoy signature with a graceful flourish. He wasn't as quick as other boys. He wasn't as strong. He wasn't as smart. He wasn't to know that most little boys by the age of four were worrying only about Quidditch games and racing brooms.
But now he was to know. He was about to know the innermost secrets of the boy he had been trained to hate, compelled to despise, and expected to betray since the cradle. A true Malfoy's duty would be to read the entry. And now, thinking back on his former duties, he wasn't sure if he liked it one bit. But as soon as the fleeting thought had come to pass, it was replaced by his Malfoy conscience. As he stood still as a silhouette, with the day's frost turning to a bitter chill through his open window, Draco Malfoy leaned over his desk and began to read, his cool silver orbs scanning the page as if only scratching the surface of its contents.
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The sound of clothes being thrown all over (or from the poetic Lavender Brown's point of view, into disarray) was being eagerly eavesdropped on by the rest of Gryffindor House, along with the sounds of heated shouting.
" Damn it, Harry! You can't just leave us here, mate!"
In which there was a mighty BANG, and a furious, " I can handle it myself, Ron! I have to do this, what if Voldemort wants to attack Hogwarts eventually? I've got to bloody stop him!"
As a pair of wide-eyed first years shuffled their way closer to the boy's dorm entrance, they could hear Hermione Granger's piercing voice through the room.
"But don't you see, Harry, that to go there would be as good as suicide? You know Lucius Malfoy! The manor will be absolutely COVERED in Death Eaters, and dark spells! Not to mention you don't even know where it is! And I might have been wrong about the whole letter thing, you know!"
Parvati Patil swore she could have seen the irate girl stand glaring at her friends irritably, whilst Ron and Harry inwardly rolled their eyes at the fact that Hermione, of all people, was ever wrong.
Harry's voice was even more frigid than the night air as he replied,
"You don't understand, Hermione. This IS my destiny. I don't think anyone can protect me from it now."
" But Harry, surely Dumbledore can help you sort this out!" This in Ron's pleading tones.
A snort was heard.
"Dumbledore, Ron? D'you really think ANY of the teachers, including Dumbledore, could stop at least two fully armed hundred Death Eaters, WITH Voldemort, from taking home students over the holidays? What are you going to do, bring along Trelawney so she can tell Lucius Malfoy that 'his doom is near'? I'm sure he'd be shaking in his boots."
A few footsteps towards the dorm door ensued, and the first years, terrified of being caught, sprung back as if diseased at the sound of Harry's heavy stride down the stairs as he strode quickly towards the door, and disappeared into the darkness of Hogwart's halls to simmer, it seemed, alone.
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A/N: So sorry for taking so long! I had my birthday today, and finally mustered up enough time to post another chapter. Now, I need your guyses' help: tell me how my story is doing! Is there a hole in the plot? Are the characters unbelievable? Does the story hold your interest? Let me know!