ANGELUS SOL SOLIS
Chapter Three Goddess of Imaginary Light
Disclaimer: the name of the title is taken from the song Imaginary by Evanescence
"Caught you red-handed this time, haven't we?" jeered the voice behind him.
"Three accounts of murder," muttered another voice, "three accounts of murder for the young Death Eater Draco Malfoy."
Three accounts of murder? Three black marks on his innocent slate? How could this have… the injustice of it all was enough to boil anyone's blood. These Ministry fools made great assumptions, and were willing to tarnish his so-far clean reputation without fair trial or equality in the eyes of the law.
What were they, barbarians?
"Expelliarmus," shouted the Auror, taking advantage of the young man's shock.
The force of the spell startled Draco, causing him to drop the tinted glass plate on the floor. It shattered into several pieces at his feet.
"Turn around at once with your hands in the air!" barked another Auror imperiously.
It was outrageous that they were treating him like a criminal when he had done nothing wrong. But he was outnumbered and wandless, there was nothing he could do.
As he turned around, he felt a prickling sensation on his skin, tingling heat pulsing through his body. Now he stood there, hands in the air, looking the complete idiot. He could feel sweat beads forming on his back, dampening his robes.
An Auror looked peered around his body at the great ball of light behind him. He could just make out the form of a human body, glowing strands of hair floating about.
"And do we add this to your list of convictions?" he asked sarcastically, indicating the ball of light behind Draco, "still an account of murder, I suspect, but tell me… how did your sick, twisted little mind come up with the idea of killing someone and then elongating the burning of their body afterwards?"
Draco glared at his accuser scornfully. It was so pathetic how they were determined to pin him down to some criminal act, even if the accusation came out sounding excruciatingly illogical. How pathetic of them to make assumptions without investigating and confirming the facts. Draco just knew that there must have been some kind of procedure that the Aurors could have used to determine whether it was his wand that had been the source of the murdering magic.
"Give him a taste of his own medicine," sneered the first Auror.
Another Auror emerged, grinning manically. His robes were seemingly clean. Not shabby, nor posh like Draco's own robes, but comfortably clean. The light from this Auror's wand illuminated his face, creating a menacing chiaroscuro effect.
"Let me do it," he growled, eagerly, "Long have I awaited this day, this moment. Ever since your father murdered my beloved wife and twin daughters… ever since that day… long have I been waiting for this."
"Who are you?" asked Draco, eyes widening in shock. He did not know whether his plan to ask persistent questions would make a difference between his life and death.
"I'll not indulge you," replied the Auror, whispering in a deranged manner, his eyes relishing the fantasy of murdering the boy for himself, his eyes gleaming at the thought of how close he was to revenging his darling Kitty, Kimberley, and Maria.
---
Somewhere in the neighborhood outside the house, several pops announced the arrival of a select band of the Order.
"I hope we're in time," whispered Tonks, afraid. She walked forwards, wand in front of her, striding to keep up with Dumbledore and Lupin.
Although she was only a few houses away, Tonks put out the light from her wand. The strong white-blue light emanating from the house had already attracted many people from the surrounding houses, but they found that they could not perpetrate. Perhaps an anti-Muggle charm had been placed around it.
"I'll deal with the Muggles," said Moody from behind. Tonks relayed the message to Dumbledore, who nodded in thanks.
Lupin reserved his thoughts for himself. They had received a hurried message from Kingsley Shacklebolt fifteen minutes before by means of a special paging device. The message had been very disjointed, and had come in spurts with a few minutes' wait in between, as if Kingsley Shacklebolt had been observing the danger to decide whether or not it was drastic enough for an emergency squad to be brought in.
Dumbledore… danger at Granger home… white ball… emanating light… human within… unsure… dead or alive… Malfoy caught… Tuckley… going insane… bent… on revenge…
---
"Something you'll be familiar with," muttered the Auror, who, to Draco seemed to be going slightly mental. He wondered to himself what the discipline was like within the Auror department now. It did not seem to be very secure.
"Tuckley!" shouted one of the other Aurors.
Choosing to ignore him, or perhaps really too focused on revenge, Tuckley raised his wand anyway.
"Crucio!"
The Unforgivable Curse shot Draco with pain that he had never known. Screaming, he shut his eyes tightly in pain.
---
Dumbledore pushed the door forcefully in time to see and hear young Draco Malfoy being struck with the Cruciatus. His first priority was to get to the boy and stop the curse, but the next thing he knew, the incredible happened.
The figure of light behind Malfoy rose and spun simultaneously. Wreathes of light spun out of the main source, enlarging itself to shield Malfoy within itself. A streak of light lashed out at Tuckley, flashing a bright vermilion colour, as if in anger.
Lupin could have sworn that the streak of light had turned into a hand. It was now choking the light out of the man named Tuckley.
The screaming from Malfoy stopped. The light seemed to have a mind of its own. Seemingly satisfied with Malfoy's reaction, the intense light shot back from Tuckley before catapulting itself towards the other Aurors from the Ministry, expelling them from the house with a shattering of the window glass. The Aurors who still had enough sense left in them Apparated away as quickly as possible, frightened by this unknown force.
Slowly, the light's intensity faded. With the evanescence of the light, the figure within was laid on the floor with the utmost invisible care.
Tonks ventured forward cautiously to look at the face of the figure. Brushing the hair away, she found herself looking into the peaceful complexion of Hermione Granger.
Dumbledore approached the cowering boy, genuinely concerned for his physical and psychological health.
Seeing who it was, Draco felt both relieved and repulsed. He forced himself to be strong, thinking arrogantly that any pity or sympathy towards him was unnecessary.
"Are you here to accuse me of murder too?" he snapped, uncaring that he was regarding Albus Dumbledore with disrespect.
"Malfoy…" growled Moody, warningly, who had been repairing the exterior of the house and obliviating the minds of any Muggle witnesses in the vicinity.
Draco cocked his head towards Moody, his eyes glinting with displeasure at the memory of being transformed into a ferret as punishment in the fourth year. Of course, the Alastor Moody who had turned him into a ferret was not actually the man who was there that night, obliviating the minds of the neighboring Muggles.
"Murder, my dear boy?" asked Dumbledore, looking into Draco's slate-gray eyes.
At first, Draco resisted, suspicious of the Headmaster's motives. Finally, he swallowed his pride, and allowed Dumbledore the freedom to peer into his mind, realizing that his chances of maintaining his innocence would be greater if he allowed the Headmaster such valuable insight.
"Stop," he muttered angrily, tearing his eyes away when he felt that the Headmaster was probing his mind for information beyond that which he had first consented to giving. He moved away deliberately, taking the chance to look at the sleeping figure of Hermione.
"Did he?" asked Moody, shuffling closer to Dumbledore for a private debate.
"Did he what?" asked Dumbledore absent-mindedly.
"Murder."
"Of course not. Did you really think he would have?" asked Dumbledore skeptically.
"Never can tell with these kids," muttered Moody, suspiciously.
"Her eyelids are moving!" whispered Draco with anxiety and excitement.
The exuberant gray eyes of Draco Malfoy were the first things that Hermione saw. However, she was too drained to register the owner of those eyes, yet even in her fragile physical and mental state, she would still sense the immense gratitude being expressed in his eyes. She sighed contentedly, and laying her head back, shut her eyes.
Well, I tried to make this chapter longer as one of you suggested. Let me know what you think by pressing the review button down in the left hand corner!
Thanks go to:
Samhaincat
Fain Oakenbringer
Angharad Marared Rhodri Gwynedd – by the way can I ask you what your name means?