Disclaimer- All recognized characters, and places (London not included) are JK Rowlings. Not mine.
The figure stood black against the full white moon. The stars shone white in the black sky, illuminating the ground with an eerie intensity. It was past midnight and anyone watching the figure would wonder why it hadn't moved for hours or, perhaps, why it was there in the first place.
However, none were watching the lone figure on the hill.
The figure had been completely still, up until this point, when there was a heave of the shoulders, as if the person was carrying a great burden. The heaving went on for a long while, as if the person was letting something out, and stopped as suddenly as it began.
The next movement, which came moments later, was a throw. The figure had thrown an object, with all his might, and turned away from the moon. His hood had fallen in the process, and the light glinted off silver hair. With what appeared to be a sigh, the figure walked down the hill, away from the object that he had thrown.
The object, if anyone had gone to look at it, was a white mask, which by coincidence or not, looked like those worn by the Death Eaters.
He walked across the fields, towards his family's castle. The moonlight glinted off his white blond hair, making it glow in the darkness, in the likeliness of a halo. Of course, he didn't make this connection, nor would anyone else who thought they knew the boy.
Rather then going directly to the castle, Draco moved towards the garden, which his mother tended, refusing-even scorning-the help of the house elves. The garden was beautiful-day or night, with its abundance of roses, holly, orchids, lilies and belladonna. It truly was breathtaking, and, for Draco, calming. He felt more at peace within the confines of the garden then in his own house, which seemed infested with bad memories, determined to haunt him. The Muggles had a term they used, for things like this. "Skeletons in the closet." Draco thought it sounded appropriate, but not quite enough for himself. He decided that it should read "rotten flesh covered corpses in the dungeon" when concerning him.
He had had a lot of ugly things happen in his past, and he was ashamed to admit any one o them. Truth be told, he hated the whole damn pureblood culture and society. They were nothing but a bunch of inbred power hungry useless shells. They weren't people they were-what did the Muggles call them? Robots. Unfeeling robots that obey anything, which appear to have more power then them. His family was not exempt in the least. While his mother wasn't nearly as fucked up as his father, they both made him sick. Heartless bastards.
Draco turned away from the garden. He was tired, in more ways then one, and wanted nothing more then to sleep. He turned towards the castle, dreading the rest of his miss-begot life.
Hermione looked out the window of the bus. She was on her way back home, from the Dursley's, visiting Harry for the day. They had much to discuss, and to practice. Luckily, Harry had just had his 17th birthday, thus becoming an of-age wizard. They had both practiced defensive spells, and jinxes knowing that they would need them soon enough. Too soon, more then likely.
Hermione was excited to get home. Her aunts, uncles and cousins were all visiting them for her parent's family reunion. It was held every 5 years, usually in England, and was nothing something to be missed. She hadn't seen any of her American and Canadian family since she started Hogwarts-which they only knew as a special private school in the country. She couldn't wait to see her favorite cousin Sara, from Canada, who loved books, and reading as much as she did.
She pulled her hair out of her eyes, and turned back to the book that she was reading-Protective spells and potions.
Sometime later, Hermione arrived at her top. She stepped off the bus, putting her book away in the process, and turned north towards her house.
What she saw made her blood freeze, and her heart stop.
The Dark Mark. Above her house. Her family!
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