Title: Rebirth
Author: darchangel
Chapter: 01 – The man with the hollow arm
Summary: set post-HBP After the Hogwarts incident, Draco fled—he didn't care where he would go, as long as no one could find him. When he nearly dies, a Muggle girl takes care of him. But it's Draco Malfoy—will he let her?
WARNING: HBP SPOILERS! Do not read if you haven't read the book! Readers, ye be warned!
Disclaimers: I don't own Draco (too bad, though), Harry Potter or any of the plot that happened before the story. I do own Anne and the rest of the characters appearing and that's awesome! LOL.
The plot, characters, bands and songs mentioned are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people and songs is entirely coincidental.
Author's Notes:
1. I never expected to be writing a Draco fic, but after HBP it just cried out! Please keep note that Draco is the only known character you'll see in this fic, except for the one or two last chapters. Don't wait for Pansy to appear or something. She's DEAD (no she isn't, but she might as well be :P)…!
2. Please ignore the slight anachronisms here and there—it is really hard to keep in mind you're writing a story that is set nearly ten years ago (1996, to be exact), even JK herself forgot about it more than once. Don't be too hard on that, plz.
3. The POVs (Points Of View) will change from time to time, and I won't say anything like "Draco's POV". Work it out yourself, you're a smart audience!
Oh, and italics mean THOUGHTS. Just in case you were wondering.
4. It would be strongly recommended if you read this chapter while listening to the "Village" OST by James Newton Howard (you know, M. Night Shyamalan's movie). That's what I was listening to when I wrote this, and it really adds to the atmosphere.
Please read and review and tell me if it's good or not,
constructive criticism is also appreciated! Thanks, and on you go!
xXx
There never was a matter of choice for me. Choice between good and evil… I guess it had always been chosen for me. I was to walk the Dark path, the evil one, whether I wanted it or not.
I actually thought I wanted it. For almost my entire life, I had believed that it was my destiny—but not anymore. When I was forced to face my destiny and see what true evil was like, I cringed. I wanted out. But I was not allowed. Nor was I ever to be.
I didn't care. It didn't matter to me whether I was the only under-aged Death Eater in history. I didn't give a shit for the Dark Lord's trust… I didn't like what was going on, and didn't want to be a part of it. But I had no choice. It wasn't me Voldemort had chosen. He chose Lucius Malfoy's son—for vengeance.
The air was dry and dusty—it was as if it carried with it a thick, black smoke so dense you could hold it in your palm. The sky was cloudless, but starless all the same. Time felt eternal and yet instant in the empty roads that he roamed. He was looking for something he couldn't find—peace. He knew he couldn't go back to who he was; his old self had been a lie from the start. But it was all he ever knew, and now he had lost it.
The dark figure kept walking on, and the road seemed to never end. His black cloak was trailing behind him, already worn and dirty. His big, gray eyes were empty and hollow, and his face was divided by a thin scar… So thin, in fact, that he would have to wash his face to get a proper look at it—but he didn't care about it. The scar, his face, anything. He didn't care about his own life. He hadn't eaten in days and his sleep-deprived eyes had started to sink. His once-blond hair was now a mousy yellow from the unending wandering… He had been on the road for weeks now. He had lost track of the days; was it two or three weeks ago that he fled from the Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort, his father? He couldn't remember—and it didn't matter anyway.
A black bird flew high overhead. Nothing else moved in that still night, not even the air. In the middle of the night, at the very early hours of a new day, no one except him walked that road… A road in the midst of a desert. Well, not exactly a desert, but it was barren enough to be called that. No one apart from that lonely, dark figure… Draco Malfoy.
He took his wand out once again. For the umpteenth time he tried to take away the Dark Mark from his forearm—otherwise it would only be a matter of time before they tracked him down. He whispered and whispered again a forgotten incantation, but it did no good; the Mark on his arm was there, clean and black as ever. His flesh burned more and more every day as the Dark Lord called all those who had abandoned him to return to their master. Draco recoiled. "You never were my master! Just go away!" But the Mark did not obey. Once again, he sank to his knees and cried silently. He had reached the outskirts of a town, and the orange light from the street lamps faded against the pitch-black sky.
He kept going a little bit more. A cat meowed nearby. The tempting thoughts he'd been having for some days recurred to him, and he tried to ignore them. But it seemed like the only way. His desperation didn't leave room for much else, and time was running thin. Could he risk it? By now those thoughts had become nothing but a mere background noise in his head… A solution for when all else failed. Bit too much, true, but still effective. Maybe he'd die in the process, but he didn't care anymore. What was left there to protect, to love, to live for? Family? Friends? Love?
Nothing. As dawn was breaking through the darkness of the night, Draco decided. He put his wand inside his pocket again and drew out the little knife with the serpentine emblem. The Malfoy crest. Draco sneered at it for a moment. Everything he had lived for, everything he had ever said or felt or even cared about was a lie. A well constructed and real-looking and sounding lie, but still a lie. Nothing could go back to anywhere. He didn't know what to feel, for one thing: angry at the betrayal, or thankful for the revelation? Nothing mattered now. So what if I die? No one will miss me anyway.
And with the knife that still bore the crest that haunted his life, he cut away the ugly, terrifying and unwanted—forever, it was unwanted—Dark Mark from his arm. A slight breeze carried away that black smoke that seemed to suffocate him, and with it went away all his guilt and fear and desperation… With his blood.
Maybe I'll die, he thought among the pain and the bleeding, but at least the part of me that had anything to do with you will die with me. There… That's something worth dying for.
xXx
Anne sipped the last bit of her orange juice hastily and put her favourite black shoes on.
"Dad, I'm going!"
Her father lifted his eyes momentarily from washing the dishes in the sink. He whispered an indistinct "bye sweetheart" and looked at his daughter take off without shooting another glance at him. He adjusted the rim of his glasses on his nose and continued with the chores, hoping to finish them on time for lunch.
The day looked okay so far—no clouds, a bright blue sky, sunny but not hot. A perfect summer day, for all she cared. She put her headphones on and clicked her iPod alive. Searching through her songs, she made a right turn in Portsmouth Crescent, walking towards St. Nicholas Hospital where she worked voluntarily every day during the summer and part-time during the winter. Her light auburn hair—almost orange—fell casually just above her shoulders, and her occupied light blue eyes skimmed the vicinity before returning to her playlist.
Artists
The Dead Cockroaches
The Fujis
The Patriots
The Phantom Princes
The Phantoms
The Rioting Bullets…
She selected the Dead Cockroaches and put the iPod on hold and in the back pocket of her gray pants. The first song started—"Man on the Looney Moon"—and she started walking with the rhythm. Life for Anne was a huge movie; every scene in her life was just like those in all the movies she so liked to watch. She enjoyed making sure that she had a soundtrack to go with it, too. The bands she liked were small and probably unheard of by most people around the world, let alone the small town she lived in. But she didn't care—as long as the lyrics were cool, and the music sounded nice, that's all she wanted.
Take away the pain, baby,
and kiss my lips like you know how…
Take me to the looney moon
and don't turn on the lights
'cause we aren't coming home…
Anne Richards was by no means a popular girl by everyone's standards. She liked to have fun, laugh and make the others around her have a good time, which meant that pretty much anyone could enjoy her company. Maybe the A-crowd people wouldn't exactly be her best friends, but it's not like she'd shove them away because she couldn't listen to Backstreet Boys… She had a thin and slender figure, light blue eyes, auburn hair and naturally pink lips, and liked to dress "simply, but dark". Her favourite attire, the one she was wearing now, was a black T-shirt and gray pants, and of course her beloved black trainers. A silver Braille talisman jingled at her neck, spelling the word "rose"—she'd been obsessed with roses for as long as she could remember.
The song was reaching the guitar solo as she turned left into Nelson Court towards St. Nicholas Hospital, when she saw an unbelievable sight: a man lay on the pavement close to the corner of an abandoned building… It had to be a man…
Is that… what I think it is?
She ran to the dark figure and knelt down beside him. Yes, it was a man—he was in such a state, as if he had lived in the streets for God knows how long. Anne threw the headphones away from her ears and tried to find where the huge amount of blood that stained the ground around her had come from. When she did, she looked away for a moment, but then refocused.
This man could die! This thing might already be infected! She nearly panicked at the sight of the man's brutally mangled arm—it was as if a whole part of his arm (flesh, blood and all) had been grotesquely removed from its rightful place. It looked like it had been bleeding for the better part of the night. She closed her eyes and breathed, trying to calm herself down. What do you do when you find someone dying? Think, THINK!
Suddenly it dawned on her—call for an ambulance! It would be Eric who drove the ambulance in the mornings, but she'd deal with that in order to save this man's life…
She pressed the hospital phone number that she knew so well, having called so many times for being late to work or something… It rang… and it rang… and it rang…
Of all days to be sleeping in! she thought frantically. Come on! Pick up! Someone!
Finally, Ruth the receptionist answered.
"St. Nicholas Hospital."
"RUTH! It's me, Anne," said Anne, almost panting from her hurriedness to save the poor man that lay unconscious in front of her.
"Why, good morning, Anne! Did you just wake up?"
"Ruth, I need to speak to Eric! I found a man lying on the street here, and his arm is open and bleeding! He might be dead, I don't know—"
"Did you check his pulse?"
"How do you do that?"
"Eh, you put your fingers on his carotid to see if there's a blood pulse."
"I thought they only do that in movies."
"Well, it works in real life."
"Oh, okay…"
Anne put her two first fingers on the man's carotid. His skin was soft, but dirty. She took a closer look at his face. He wasn't old at all—he barely looked 20.
There was a pulse beneath her fingers.
"I can feel it, Ruth! It's really faint, but it's pulsing!"
"Okay, I'll put you through to Eric! Hang in there, Anne!"
Moments later, Eric's voice replaced Ruth's on the other side of the line.
"Oy, Anne! How's it goin'?"
"I found a man here, and he's dying!"
"Slow down, princess, what's going on?"
"ARGH! Just get your stupid fat bottom here! I'm on Nelson Court and Pilkington Crescent. Be here in two seconds! He doesn't look alive!"
"Yes, but are you sur—"
"JUST GET DOWN HERE!"
She hung up and thrust her phone inside her bag. She turned to the man, who was fluttering his eyelids as if he was just waking up from a dream. His eyes were unfocused for a moment, and then he saw Anne.
"Hi…" said Anne awkwardly, eyes wide. She sat up and looked at the man's face intently. "Don't worry, I'm taking you someplace safe."
He didn't respond—he merely pulled his arm away from Anne's hands, where she was holding him tightly, not having noticed.
"Oh!" she gasped, retreating her hands. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! Are you okay? How are you feeling?"
Very clever question, Annie… The guy's almost bled to death!
He didn't answer. He looked at her with eyes full of contempt and whispered faintly, as loudly as his frail body allowed him, "Away… from me… Muggle…"
And he turned his head the other way, and passed out again.
xXx
The short trip to St. Nicholas' was quiet. Eric didn't talk much except his irritating "Good mornin' princess", which Anne had grown tired of since they had stopped dating quite a while ago, and a "Holy cow! Poor fella," or something to that effect when he first set eyes on the young man lying on the street. Anne wasn't listening; her mind was occupied with the young man's only words… They didn't make any sense, and that scared her. Is he mental? How bad is his case? What is "Muggle" anyway? Why the attitude? Perhaps it was a dream…? Who is he? She didn't dare guess any further. As Eric halted the ambulance in front of the Emergency doors, she resolved to let it wait until the man could speak… Given that he survived.
Eric took the young man out of the ambulance and rolled him past the Emergency doors.
"We've got a suicide case, he sliced his arm open…" he shouted as he came through, and the doctors took it from there. Anne watched in shock as the whole thing happened too fast before her eyes.
"Jesus!" a doctor cried. "A whole piece of his arm is missing! What did he do?"
"Man, these kids do crazy things to themselves…"
As the doctors disappeared behind a set of gray doors, the young man's words echoed in her mind…
"Away… from me… Muggle…"
I wonder what he meant.
And she turned away, shaking her head as if shaking the man from her head, and headed towards the first floor, where she'd change into her pink nurse outfit—she sighed at the thought—and begin her day. There will be room for everything… All in good time.
xXxXxZE ENDXxXxX
Another quick A/N: Sorry if this was short, but I don't want to give out too much from this early on in the story. Chapter 2 will be juicier, and it will be up soon…
I'll answer to all the reviews, so if you have any questions (not plot-wise, plz) feel free to ask!
Updation: I updated the chapter because there is a twist in Anne's character I didn't think of while writing. Chapter two is coming shortly; I had to build up three new characters, including Anne, from scratch! I didn't like the way she was coming along… I won't say patience is a virtue, because I don't believe it. Oh well. Worry not, my dear friends! It will be up within a few days!