Difficult Positions

Denying the lying

A million children fighting

For lives in strife

For hope beyond the horizon

-Nightwish "Planet Hell"

London Heathrow Airport was abuzz with the characteristic hustle and bustle that large airports are so well known for. There was a constant hum of chatter and the occasional pleasant female voice projecting over the crowd through a loudspeaker to announce which flights had arrived, which were delayed and which were leaving. Snippets of conversation could be heard in passing, diverse languages from exotic nationalities or, on occasion, the comprehensive native tongues.

Hermione struggled to keep up with her parents through the ever-thickening throngs of people, lugging their two fully packed carry-ons over her shoulders. Regretfully she watched the backs of her parents, walking arm in arm, passing saccharine glances at one another and an occasional peck on the cheek, forehead or mouth. For the most part, they ignored her.

"Ah, yes, here we are. Gate nineteen." Mr. Granger said, glancing briefly at his ticket.

Hermione caught up, breathing heavily from the exertion of carrying the overloaded carry-ons.

"Thank you, Annette." Mrs. Granger said, patting Hermione on the arm. "We're fine here, dear, you needn't see us off."

"But I insist!" Hermione said, trying to keep the desperateness out of her voice.

"Well, all right then… if you are so adamant about it…" her mother gave her a strange look and led her husband to the nearest seats in the waiting area. Hermione took a seat across from them, where she could study her parents one last time.

She didn't really look like either one of them, which, considering the circumstances was actually a relief. Of course, she had her father's bushy hair, but seeing as he was male and kept it short, it wasn't such an obvious attribute. She had an even enough balance of physical characteristics from the both of them that they could not be too easily spotted as her relatives. She'd witnessed phenomenons where children looked nearly identical to one parent or the other. Draco Malfoy, for instance, was very nearly a carbon copy of his father.

Both physically and mentally, she thought with disgust.

In any case, Hermione felt fairly confident that her parents wouldn't be hunted down based on their physical likeness to her. At least, she hoped.

Her parents looked blissful. They laughed and joked almost as though they were young teenagers again. Their public displays of affection were perhaps a little more than Hermione thought was necessary, but then, was it really such a big deal?

At least they're happy.

They looked as though they were going on a vacation to Australia, rather than moving there. But they had never been to Australia, so what did they really know about how to dress in less than tourist clothes? It didn't matter. They would fit in soon enough, she was sure.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to British Airways. We will now begin boarding for international flight 203 to Tokyo. First class passengers and those who--

"That's us!" Mr. Granger said brightly, standing, "Ready, Monica?"

Wait! No! Where had the time gone? Hermione glanced at her watch quickly. No… yes, it was 11:47.

"Ready as I ever will be!" Mrs. Granger said with a sultry glance at her husband and grinned playfully. "This is it! Australia, here we come!" she squealed.

Indeed. This was it. Hermione was beginning to regret getting her parents first class tickets, but she supposed delaying the pain of letting them go wouldn't make it any easier. She reached down, picked up their carry-ons, and walked with them to the boarding gate.

"Here are your bags, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins," Hermione said as her parents reached the gate.

"Thank you, darling." Mrs. Granger said sweetly.

Hermione suddenly could not resist the urge. She rushed forward and wrapped her mother in a gigantic bear hug, tears bursting forth. Her mother was startled, glanced nervously at her husband and patted Hermione awkwardly on the head.

"Now, now, dear, you worry too much, we will be fine."

Hermione stepped back and smiled tearfully at her mother, then turned to her father and gave him an identical hug.

Finally she stepped back and looked at her bewildered parents once more. "Bye," she said tearfully. "Ha--have a safe trip…"

Have a nice life.

"Goodbye, Annette, darling, and for heavens sake, it isn't as though we're dead! You are always welcome-- to give us a call," Mrs. Granger said hesitantly.

Hermione sucked back her tears. "I know, I know. Now go."

Her parents glanced at one another again and turned to board the plane. Hermione could hear her mother as they maneuvered down the platform.

"Sweet girl but a little strange, don't you agree, Wendell? An outsider might suspect we were her parents or something!" she laughed, her husband chuckling with her, neither of them looking back once. Hermione tried to smile through her tears and turned. Slowly, she drifted over to the large window and leaned on the railing, gazing out at the plane that now contained two people who had loved and raised her.

Gradually, the waiting room emptied as other passengers boarded the plane. But Hermione remained at the window. She wanted to stay, to see the plane take off, to know that her parents were indeed, safe and out of harms way.

That morning, she had performed the inevitable. It had been difficult. Not just emotionally difficult, but physically, it was a difficult spell. As it turned out, it was much more complicated to erase years and years worth of memories, than to merely alter life goals.

She and her parents had been standing in the driveway next to their fully loaded car. Her parents were as giddy as ever. Hermione had hugged them desperately, much in a similar way as she had done just now in the airport.

"I…I…I love you guys… I'll…I'll miss you!" She had cried, the tears, which had been dammed up all day, finally broke through. She hung her head, wiping frantically at her cheeks.

"Oh, Hermione…" her mother had said sympathetically, "It's not like you'll never see us again."

But you have no idea. I might not!

Finally, after many deep breaths and self-scolding, she'd managed to muster up the determination she needed to perform the spell. When she had reached for the wand in her pocket, her parents' eyes widened in surprise.

"Hermione… what are you--" her father began…but he had been unable to finish.

Mum, Dad, Marion Granger and Gary Granger, you are going to Australia, where you will live. You were never dentist and you know nothing about dentistry. Your names are Monica and Wendell Wilkins. You never had a daughter named Hermione. You don't believe in magic and you have never heard of a school called Hogwarts. I am your neighbour. I am taking you to the airport. My name is Annette.

Hermione had squeezed her eyes shut and hot tears had leaked out from under her lids and streamed down her cheeks. She stabbed her wand in front of her like a dueling sword and swiftly performed the complex wand maneuvers.

"O…Ob…Obliviate!

And then, there was silence. It pounded in Hermione's ears. Slowly she had opened her eyes and gazed at her parents' faces, which were etched with the familiar dazed expression that was so typical of memory modification. A sob very nearly had escaped her lips and she had to slap a hand over her mouth to contain it. Quickly, she turned away from them, shoving her wand back into her pocket and desperately wiping the tears from her eyes. Her chest heaved with the attempt to hold down her sobs.

Breathe, Hermione, Breathe!

And then, her mother spoke. "Annette, darling, are you ready?" It had been then, that Hermione knew the painful truth of it all.

Her mother's voice. She was speaking to Hermione in an entirely different manner than which she was so used to. There was more of a formality to her tone, similar to how she had always spoken with her patients. Yes. But there was something else too. There lacked the motherly tenderness that Hermione had grown so accustomed to. And it was a shock that she had not expected.

But of course. It makes sense. A woman who has never had a daughter before, would not have the motherly instinct that comes with having a child.

Hermione hung her head, tears sliding down her cheeks as she gripped the railing tightly. The plane was now taxiing away from the loading dock.

Suddenly, a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Hermione jumped and very nearly screamed in shock. She whirled around.

"It was a very brave thing you did, dear." An elderly woman was facing her. She was dressed a little oddly, in mismatched clothes, clothes that looked far too young for a woman of her age.

"Wh—what?" Hermione stuttered, surprised. A wave of panic washed over her. Did she know? How?

As though the woman read her mind, she said, "I know. Come. Sit." The woman led Hermione to the rows of chairs in the now empty sitting area. Hermione sat and eyed the woman warily.

"How do you…?"

"My name is Henrietta, dear, pleased to meet you. Don't worry. I'm here because I've done the same thing you have, my dear. Desperate measures come during desperate times. For one so young to have to send off her parents…" she shook her head, tutting.

"You're…" Hermione lowered her voice, "A witch?"

"Oh, but of course! How else could I recognize the signs of memory modification?"

Hermione looked worried, "Is it obvious?"

"Only to someone who is going through the same dilemma as you, darling," Henrietta said. "Those of us who are unlucky enough to have Muggle relatives we care about must do what is best for them under these dangerous times. But you know," the woman added brightly, "They say the Boy-who-lived, Harry Potter, he is the one who can save us. What a future that lies ahead of him… poor dear."

Hermione swallowed and nodded vaguely. Right. What a future. What a responsibility it was… to save the world. And she was going to be a part of it. She had a mission now. Hermione set her jaw and pulled her shoulders back. It was time to focus on that task now and she needed to face it head on, with all of her strength. There was no time for weakness in this war.

"It will get better," she said, determinedly. "It will get better and when it does, we can go find our family members and bring them back."

"Of course. Well, we can hope it does, can't we, dear?"

"What do you mean, hope? There's a good chance he can be defeated!"

The elder witch shook her head sadly. "Oh to be so young and hopeful. Times are getting dark again, just like last time. I'm afraid there are some truly evil souls in this world. It's so easy to lose faith when everything becomes as hopeless as it was then."

"Well, you mustn't!" Hermione cried. "The day we lose hope is the day we lose this war!"

"My you are a determined one aren't you, dear? Gryffindor, I expect. You will make a great leader someday."

There was a deafening roar and Hermione looked toward the large window in time to see her parents' jet taking off. So that was it. They were gone now. She could only hope this war was won soon so she could bring them back that much quicker.

She turned to the elderly woman. "Thank you, Henrietta. I have to go now, but try not to lose hope. Believe in Harry Potter!"

Hermione shook the woman's hand and barely shouted a "Goodbye!" over her shoulder before she ran off.

There was only one place left for her to go now.

.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.

"A raid?"

"Yes, Draco. It's what we do," Lucius sighed in exasperation throwing a heavy cloak at his son.

Draco peeled it off his shoulder and held it at a distance as though it were diseased.

"What's this for?"

"Death Eater robes, Draco. And this," his father handed him a mask. "One of my old ones."

Draco held this, too, at a distance, making a face.

"What if I don't want to?" he asked.

"You don't have a choice," Lucius said calmly, without missing a beat. "Put them on now. Go on."

Draco slid into the too big robes and stood with his arms held out, studying the awkward sleeve lengths. Looking down he noticed that he would easily trip on the hem. His father whisked his wand in Draco's direction and instantly, the robes fit perfectly.

"Where are we going?"

"Around," was the vague reply. "Come, Draco."

Draco followed his father to the entrance hall where they met with several other Death Eaters, including Aunt Bella, who snickered at Draco maliciously.

"Ickle Drakey-poo is coming on a big grown up raid! My, aren't we excited?" she taunted.

"But of course he is, Bellatrix. Remember, he fainted at the meeting the other night, he could just not contain his excitement," Avery called, laughing loudly. More sniggering rippled through the small crowd of Death Eaters.

Draco could feel heat rising in his cheeks and quickly put the mask on to hide it.

"And Lucius, remarkable of you to join us. Isn't it a bit difficult to go on a raid without a wand?" Dolohov asked smoothly, fingering his own idly.

"I've got one. It's Narcissa's."

Everyone jeered.

"Enough!" growled Snape. It seemed being the Dark Lord's right hand man had earned him a grudging respect from the others, though Bellatrix's level of respect was much more resentful than the others. "Are we all here now? Let us get on with it then."

With that, everyone slid their masks on and Snape ushered them out the door. Draco was last and as he passed his professor, Snape grabbed him by the shoulder. Draco's breath caught in his throat.

"Why are you coming with us?" Snape hissed in his ear, once he had made sure the others were out of earshot.

"Father said…"

"To regain the Dark Lord's confidences? Petty as always, Lucius is. It may be a shot too late now that you've gotten involved."

Draco recoiled. "What? What's that supposed to mean, 'now that Ive gotten involvedYou just think you're all high and mighty because the Dark Lord likes you! Well I know you're just a slimy, nosy, git!"

"Draco, you are being childish. I am only trying to warn you, what you see tonight…I don't know what they have planned but…"

Why was it that everyone was treating him like he was some sort of child now? He was a perfectly capable adult!

"Oh, shut up old man! Stop sticking your greasy nose in our family business!" Draco growled, pulling away from Snape and stalking down the dark path to catch up with the others. Once everyone had reached the end of the drive, they apparated.

They came out in a Muggle suburb of London where moderately sized houses were lined up in neat rows. Glowing street lamps lined the sidewalks. Nearly every driveway had one of those strange car contraptions, but outside of that, it was just like any other neighbourhood Draco had seen. Someone had cast a disillusionment charm on the lot of them and they marched in a huddle following Bellatrix.

One house seemed to have loud music blaring from it. A loud thumping a loud thumping emanated from with in and crowds of teenagers were huddled outside in tight knit groups. A safe distance away, Bellatrix removed the disillusionment charm and marched through the crowd of Death Eaters until she found Draco.

"Ok, Drakey poo!"

Draco winced. Must she call him that?

"This one is aaaaalll yours!" she cackled. "Are you ready to prove yourself a true Death Eater?"

Draco glanced at the distant house and the spattering of young people. They looked to be about his age. Occasionally, a laugh floated into Draco's ears. The truth was, no, he didn't really want to prove himself a true Death Eater at all.

He swallowed, "What do I have to do?"

"You have to crash that party. Once you get in and get chummy with them, we'll join you. And then we'll have some REAL fun."

"How…how do I do that?"

"Really, Draco," Bellatrix sounded exasperated. "You've got social skills, haven't you? As a Malfoy, I should imagine your parents taught you a thing or two about social events, have they not?" she asked loudly.

Lucius coughed and muttered something that resembled "thinking before speaking".

Draco nodded feebly and Bellatrix pushed him toward the house. He glanced back toward the crowd of Death Eaters and then hesitantly made his way toward the party, removing the mask and lowering the hood of his robes.

What exactly were they planning on doing to these kids?

As he approached the house, some of the boys and girls stared at him. They held odd little rolled up pieces of parchment between their fingers or in their mouths. The smoke that was issued from them had a pungent sort of scent. Those who weren't staring at him, were too involved in eating each other's faces to pay him any attention.

Disgusting. They could have a little decency at least. Muggles.

"Hey! Weirdo! Where do you think you're going?" someone shouted. Draco nervously glanced toward the voice and paused.

Wait. No, this anxious attitude would not do. He quickened his pace to a saunter and lifted his chin. He owned this party.

With that, Draco clamored up the porch steps of the house and was about to open the door when it flung open and hit him square in the nose. He reeled. This was not working out in his favor.

"OW!Draco shouted, staggering and holding his now gushing nose.

"Oh, oh terberely sorry," slurred the girl who had burst through the door. She glanced at him bleary-eyed and suddenly covered her mouth. Her face seemed to turn a rather green colour. "Oh…oh…" She grasped the porch railing and leaned over the edge, vomiting quite unceremoniously into the shrubbery. How disgusting.

Draco made a face, then, still holding his bloody nose, raced through the door, trying to avoid looking at the puking girl. Instantly, he collided with another girl, or rather, she collided with him. Lazily, she wrapped her arms around him and tried to sway to the music. Draco pushed her off.

"What are you doig? he shouted, tasting some of the blood that was now dripping into his mouth. He spit it out and tried unsuccessfully to wipe his face clean with the sleeve of his robe.

"Oy, you! Don't yell at her! 'Who are you?' is the better question! And what makes you think you can just walk in on my party? What are you? Some sort of freak?" asked a burly looking male, looking him up and down, his arms crossed threateningly across his chest. Draco was suddenly missing Crabbe and Goyle very much.

"Er… I'm Draco…"

"What kind of a name is that?" another male roared with laughter.

Draco glared at the boy and pulled himself to his full height, ready to have a go. Suddenly someone shoved some kind of paper tissue into Draco's face, "Here, for your nose," said a gentle female voice. Draco snatched them from her and attempted to blot some of the blood from his face. He glanced at her and she smiled kindly.

"You're kinda cute," she said. "You know… if you didn't have blood all over your face…" she giggled.

"Blimey Gabby, you think every man that walks this Earth is attractive!" the burly guy shouted good-humouredly taking a sip out of a red plastic cup he was holding.

"Not so, Nathan!" Gabby cried, she gave Draco another glance.

"Whatever." He flung at her dismissively. "She's a flirt," Nathan said, addressing Draco now. "But since Gabby seems to like you, you can stay. Just so long as we don't have any more freaks crashing my party. Here, have a drink." He shoved another red plastic cup into Draco's hand, glancing at his buddies and sniggering. Draco eyed the cup suspiciously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just drink it. You'll love it!"

Its probably some dirty Muggle poison, they're all going to laugh as I shrivel up and die. Ah well.

Draco took a sip of the red colored liquid in the cup. It was fruity and sweet and sent a sort of warmth through his body. He shrugged and took another gulp.

"He likes it! He likes it! Come dance!" cried the girl who had originally latched on to him when he had first entered the house. She grabbed Draco's bloody hand and let go.

"Maybe you should go wash up first," she said, grimacing as she looked at her hand, now covered in his blood. "I'll show you where the washroom is."

Draco took another sip out of his cup and followed her. After she had washed her own hands, he quickly washed his own, splashed his face with water and dried with a towel she had shoved at him. When he looked up she was smiling at him.

"You are kinda cute. But you dress weird, you know that? I'm Christine by the way."

Draco looked down at his robes and realized that though robes were quite normal for wizards to wear, they were quite out of the ordinary for Muggles. Silently, he reached for the red cup and took another swallow. It made him feel more relaxed, like the time when he had tried some of his father's firewhiskey. But this tasted much more pleasant.

Suddenly, there were shouts coming from another part of the house.

"Ooh I bet there's a fight! Let's go watch!" the girl said, grabbing Draco's hand and dragging him. He guzzled the remaining contents of his cup. He would need it, if he knew at all what was coming. They certainly didn't waste time.

The Death Eaters were marching through the house, wands brandished and knocking Muggle teens out of the way. Bellatrix was cackling madly, earning herself more than a few terrified glances and references to 'being certified'.

"Where's Draco?" she cried, spinning around and spotting him. "Ah, Draco! Enjoying yourself? Would you like to do the first honours?"

Honours? What honours?!

"Oy! What the bloody hell is going on??" Nathan shouted from another doorway, more teens peering from behind him. "Who the fuck are these freaks? It's not bloody Halloween or anything!" He paused for a moment, thinking swiftly. "They're with you, aren't they!" he pointed an accusing finger at Draco who was feeling a bit dizzy. He wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or what he was sure was about to happen.

"Get out! The lot of you!"

Bellatrix laughed and flicked her wand at Nathan. Suddenly Nathan was hanging upside down by his feet, eyes wide and arms flailing.

"What the?"

The house was suddenly very quiet. Someone had turned the music off and the teenagers fell silent, staring at the phenomenon in front of them.

"Come on, Draco, do something to this stupid little Muggle who wants to kick us out of his house… as if he has the power. Ha!" Bellatrix laughed madly.

The other Death Eaters were now lifting some of the other kids into the air. Shouts of surprise surrounded Draco as he found nearly half of the kids above his head now, including Christine, who was staring at Draco with a terrified expression. The other half were making their way to the door, frightened. Bellatrix flicked her wand at the doors locking the kids inside and Nathan dropped to the floor with a thud.

Draco stood frozen in place. There was chaos around him and the room seemed to be spinning slightly.

Someone pushed him forward, his father. "Do something, Draco! Prove yourself!" he hissed in Draco's ear. Lucius forcefully grabbed his son's wand arm and positioned it so it was pointing at Nathan.

Weakly, Draco whispered, "Crucio.

Nathan doubled over and gave a shout of pain as though he had been punched and Draco let the curse go immediately, staring wide eyed at the boy who had been relatively friendly towards him earlier.

Bellatrix screamed in frustration, "You have to mean it, Draco! That was pathetic! Watch this!"

"Crucio! she aimed her curse at Nathan, who screeched in agony, contorting and writhing in the pain which Draco knew all too well.

"Stop!" Draco suddenly cried, reaching for Aunt Bella's arm.

She laughed. "You want me to stop, Draco? Why? They're just Muggles!" She gave her wand a slashing movement and suddenly Nathan's blood spurted into Draco's face. Screams sounded from all sides of the room as the other teens watched in horror. Bellatrix cackled madly and reached for Draco's face, swiping a finger across his cheek.

"See this, Draco?" She asked, pointing the bloody finger at him. "This is Muggle blood. It is worthless. I thought you knew this but it seems you need a refresher. Do I need to convince you further?" she asked, pointing her wand at Draco's chest.

Draco stared at his aunt wide eyed and shook his head jerkily.

"Good. Kill… her," she said, scanning her eyes over the crowd of fearful teenagers and pointing at Gabby.

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me, Draco. Kill her. Alcohol poisoning… you know…"

"Just do it, Draco," Lucius said.

Draco glanced down at his shaking wand hand. There was something terribly familiar about his current position and he was blanching once again. He stared at Gabby who was pleading at him with her eyes, still clutching a red beaker. The room swirled and suppressed memories of the Astronomy Tower came flooding back. Draco shut his eyes, trying in vain to stop himself from thinking.

He was back on the Astronomy Tower, wand pointed at the weakened Dumbledore. He was trembling uncontrollably and his hands were sweaty and cold at the same time. Feet, rooted to the spot, trying to find the strength, trying… trying… no… he couldn't do it… he couldn't…

"Let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options! I'm standing here with a wand—I'm about to kill you--"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options! I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position. Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized that I suspected you."

Don't say that name! Please don't say that name!

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you. But now at last we can speak plainly to each other…No harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived… I can help you Draco."

"No, you can't. Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."

"He cannot kill you if you are already dead. Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hid her likewise. Nobody would be surprised that you had died in your attempt to kill me—forgive me, but Lord Voldemort probably expects it. Nor would the Death Eaters be surprised that we had captured and killed your mother—it is what they would do themselves, after all. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban… When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, Draco… you are not a killer…"

Not a killer…

With a jolt, Draco was knocked to the floor and a red light shot out of Aunt Bellatrix's wand over Draco's head. He caught a glimpse of a billowing black cloak and a green flash filled the room. Gabby fell to the floor in a lifeless heap, the liquid spilling out of her red cup into a pool beside her. Draco gasped and stared up hesitantly. Snape towered above, glowering down at him, his black eyes piercing into Draco's very soul. Draco could only imagine what he was thinking.

I've saved your ass again, you worthless coward.

.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.

Author's Note:

So sorry for the delay on this update! School has started again for me so it's hard to fit writing in. I had a difficult time writing this chapter. For some reason I just couldn't pull off the creativeness I had for chapter two. I hope it's not too disappointing to everyone.

A gigantic thanks goes out to Chaotic Veins for being the awesome beta that she is. Without her excellent additions and edits this chapter would not be fit for publishing. So thank you again for your additions, they were the details that this chapter needed.

Thank you for reading and again, please, please review!