I laid on my stomach on my bed on a sunny Saturday morning, marking homework parchments. Half a foot on the uses of the disarming charm made for interesting reading. The interpretation of twelve year olds on this matter produced both serious and amusing results. The personal ones were mostly of vengeance. 'To block spells and steal Edwards wand. His wand has a core of unicorn hair which is awesome, way better than my useless dittany stalk.' I remembered doing this same assignment and writing a full foot of malicious hate about Potter which got me a month of detentions. My second week back of teaching had gone even better than the first. The target practice dummies had taken a beating and both sets of students left the classroom grinning from ear to ear.
An owl's beak pecked at my window. I leaped up and opened it, instantly recognising Father's large tawny owl. When I'd returned to my room after my stay in the hospital wing, I arrived to a pile of homework the size of Mount Everest. It wasn't until I had moved the pile yesterday that I found a letter from my absent friend Goyle underneith. His letter described that his Mother was killed in the battle at Hogwarts, he and his Father escaped from the after math of the battle not long after we did. At the Goyle estate, Mr Goyle was captured by the Ministry and put on trial before being sent to Azkaban. He refused to take veritisirum before the hearing and was charged guilty for all crimes held against him. The Ministry had made it clear at the end of the war that anyone unwilling to prove their innocence, or in some cases ability for redemption, would be given a verdict of guilty. The war had been such a mess and had such a high death toll that finding reliable witnesses for any crimes committed by Death Eaters and other followers of the Dark Lord was near to impossible. Goyle had escaped the Ministry's grasp and was hiding out in the Forest of Dean. He was bored and unsure what to do with himself. Goyle, not knowing of our move, had written to ask if he could stay at the Manor with us. Living rough wasn't suiting him well.
Draco,
I will meet you at 11am in the Three Broomsticks.
Father.
I had written to ask Father to meet me. I knew that Father would not agree to have Goyle stay with us while he was a fugitive. However, I wanted to help my friend. I just didn't know how I could. I checked my watch, ten o'clock exactly, I needed to get moving. I petted Maali quickly and grabbed my coat and bag before racing to the door.
"Where are you going?" I heard Granger ask. Surprised I turned to her. She was dressed warmly with her blue bag clutched close.
"Hogsmeade. Meeting my Father for lunch." I answered honestly.
"Can I walk with you? I need to go to the post office for some muggle books I ordered." She blushed.
"I guess but we have to go quickly, I'm supposed to be there in an hour." I retorted.
"Thanks." She went through the door ahead of me. I frowned.
"Why didn't you ask the Weasley girl to go with you? I thought the two of you were glued together." I puzzled. Her smile faltered as we made our way up to the bridge.
"It's a long story Malfoy." She said sadly. I didn't care at all why but I was trying to be a better person and if that meant humouring the Granger girl, so be it.
"It's a long walk to Hogsmeade." I replied. Relief flooded her face.
"Well, you know that Ron is at Durmstrang?" She asked.
"I overheard you yelling in the first week of term, yeah." I admitted.
"He wrote to me a few weeks ago, asking me over to the Burrow for lunch on boxing day. Which insinuated that I wouldn't be welcome there for Christmas break."
"Hmph." I nodded along as we started down the road.
"It's a little odd. When he left I was staying at the Burrow, it was at the same time Harry left to Auror training so we assumed he'd gone with him. You see, since the battle at Hogwarts and all that went on with Lavender, Ron sort of went into himself. Wouldn't talk to anyone. I didn't really understand it but I tried to give him space. That's what men want when confused isn't it?" It seemed a rhetorical question and I really hoped it was.
"I guess." I answered anyway.
"So, he disappeared. Then the week before I came back here, the Weasley's received a letter from him." She sighed. "They wouldn't let him on the Auror training course. The grades he received for the pre determined NEWTs were far too low."
"He never did seem to study much." I pondered.
"Your right. He was told to return to school to achieve the required grades to be allowed on the course or to look for employment elsewhere. I suspect that with Harry doing the training and his feelings of constant peer pressure that he wanted to do the same no matter what. However, he wanted nothing to do with me or Lavender. He said that he had written to McGonagall about his dilemma and she in turn sent a letter of recommendation to Durmstrang. Although he lacks to meet their standard academically, he has the skills and physical endurance to impress them." She shivered with cold and rooted through her bag, pulling out a pair of gloves.
"Physical endurance? Weasley?" I asked perplexed.
"Fighting built him up. He does have a damaged left shoulder from the splinching but it was well on its way to recovery the last time I saw him." She stated whilst putting the gloves on.
"Splinching?" I asked. Weasley got splinched?
"It was last September and my fault, I don't want to talk about it more." She looked upset.
"How is it that you're not friends with the Weasley girl anymore?" I asked trying to distract her from the memory.
"Well, I asked Ginny about the letter, if she thought it meant I couldn't stay at the Burrow for Christmas break. She got really defensive and started yelling that I'd never been invited. Which I do agree with in theory but I just assumed. Mrs Weasley has said many times that I'm always welcome at the Burrow. I've spent more Christmases with them than I can count." She thrust her arms out in exasperation.
"Why can't you spend Christmas at home with your parents?" I asked.
"Memory charm. I went to reverse it after the War but I couldn't do it." Tears sprung in her eyes. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and passed it to her. "They adopted a little girl. Ellie, Ellie Granger. She's the most beautiful five year old. Blond hair and grey eyes, I could almost swear that she's a witch." More tears came as she dabbed at her face. "They looked so happy. Filled with such pure love and joy that I just couldn't disturb it. I can't risk that happiness for my own selfish reasons." She sobbed. I put my arm on hers in a reassuring gesture, as my Father would do with me.
"If you need a place to stay, the Malfoys new apartment welcomes muggle borns with open arms." Did I really just say that?
"Really? The Malfoys in an apartment. I've never heard anything so ludicrous!" She sniffled and gave a half laugh which was almost a snort. Part of me agreed, it did seem ludicrous. It did also feel like home none the less.
"I mean it Granger, Father might stick his nose up but Mother would love having an extra person to dote on a little." I admitted.
"I'll think about it, thanks Malfoy." She said genuinely. I looked ahead and realised we were almost to Hogsmeade.
"I need to get going to meet Father. Enjoy your books Granger." She gave a half smile before making for the post office.
I spotted Father sat in the corner of the pub with two butter beers on the table. His butter blond hair, the same shade as my own, hung right down his back. It was longer than I'd ever seen it.
"We drink butter beer now?" I asked. His grey eyes looked up.
"Draco I'm trying to blend in. Everyone else is drinking butter beer." He snapped. I sat across from him on at the small table. "Whatever it is that demands my immediate attention had better be important Draco, I was supposed to be working today."
"It is Father, at least I think it is." He looked impatient as I pulled Goyles letter from my bag, passing it to him. He read and re read it while I sipped down the butter beer in front of me.
"What is it that you expect to come of this Draco? I presume you already understand that I would say no to his request of staying with us?" A serious expression rested on his face. More serious than usual, I worried.
"I want to help Goyle, he's been my friend for as long as I can remember. Maybe if he went before the Ministry they'd give him a free pass like they did with me." I expressed. With Crabbe gone and his Father in Azkaban I feared I was his last hope.
"Draco. Why were you given a free pass by the Ministry?" What an odd question, he knew the answer as well as I did. I humoured him.
"I was coerced, threatened and often under the effects of the Imperious curse." I said. My stomach tightened.
"Forgetting that you were influenced. What crimes were you brought to trial for?" The relevance eluded me but his pressure bore down.
"Father.. "
"What crimes Draco?" His voice hardened despite being no louder than a whisper. I felt helpless but to answer.
"Murder, rape, grievous bodily harm, torture and the obvious, being a Death Eater." I retorted trying not to throw a fit, bringing up such memories was reminiscent of torture itself. "Satisfied Father?" I hissed.
"Consider this my boy. Besides being a Death Eater and I assume rape, Goyle I'm certain committed all of these crimes." The unspoken sentence hung in the air. No one cursed him, no one threatened death and brutality if he didn't follow orders. He wasn't even given orders. He had even yelled in the room of requirement that he didn't take orders from anyone.
Goyle committed all of the crimes by choice.
It hit my stomach so hard I had to grasp it to keep from vomiting. In all this time I had never given thought to Goyles actions being of his own making. He had always been my back up, showing unwavering loyalty even when I mocked him or made him jealous. Him and Crabbe had been my two. They tried to learn dark magic in a bid to become Death Eaters, to become like me. This was my fault.
"You must realise Draco, you have no choice but to pass this letter along to the Ministry. Goyle will undoubtedly be sent to Azkaban unless he can prove that he has no further malicious intent." No. "We have no choice. The new wizarding world has no room for those without the ability to repent." I put my head to my hands. The weight of the letter rested upon me. In sending me the letter, Goyle had practically given himself over to the Ministry. Such a huge part of myself was loyal to him that despite everything, I hoped they wouldn't find him in the Forest of Dean. "Draco." I looked up at my Fathers sympathising gaze. It was a look that I had never seen on him before. "I will fix this. I want you to go back to school and put this out of your mind. It will be okay." His hand rested on my arm.
Back at the cabin I broke down in hysterical tears. I was glad Zion was home visiting his family for the weekend. I had already lost Crabbe to dark magic and now I was going to lose Goyle to the dementors. Guilt washed through me in waves. Every inch of my body felt it. In an effort to quell the feelings I went into the bathroom to wash the stains from my face. I looked up from the faucet at myself with hate. My cheeks looked sallow and my eyes haunted. My fist connected with the mirror. It took a moment to sink in that shards of the shattered mirror had impaled themselves my right arm. I stood in a confused daze with my arm running blood into the sink. I could feel blood on my face too.
"Malfoy! What on earth have you done?" Grangers yell pulled me from the daze. I looked at the sink full of blood. "We need to get you to the hospital wing." She bustled about doing who knows what. Her reaction reminded me of when I broke my arm in third year.
"No. I don't need to hospital wing. I'll fix it myself." I added, taking out my wand. I frowned at the thought of trying to heal my wand arm with my wand.
"Stop, Malfoy. You need to take the glass out first." She said in a panic. I dropped my wand down the side of the sink, trying to balance it on the edge. Ignoring it I tried to pull out a larger shard of the mirror which was stuck in my arm. The pain made me stop. I hadn't realised that it hurt at all until that moment. Granger picked up and passed my wand back to me before pulling a pile of towels out from underneath the sink. She handed me one. "Hold this under your arm. Let's go into the common room where its lighter. I'll draw the glass out for you." I held the towel and stumbled into the common room, beginning to feel light headed.
"I'm not sure I can do to lose much more blood Granger." She looked non puzzled and led me to sit down on the sofa.
"I'm pretty efficient at healing. I had lots of practise healing Harry and Ron." She took hold of my arm and withdrew her wand. "It might hurt a little and take a few minutes, why don't you tell me what happened?" She asked.
"It's my fault. Goyle will be sent to Azkaban." I stated and scowled at her look of sympathy. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, tell me about something else." She thought. "What it was like being a death eater?"
"You really want to know? I know that you know about my second dark mark." I asked taking in a deep breath to ease the pain as she removed a piece buried deep in.
"I expect it wasn't great." She said while healing the cut left from the piece of glass.
"There were odd perks. Some of the people I was sent to capture were overseas. I'm well travelled and my apparating is leaps and bounds better because of it." I admitted. Although the bad far outweighed the good, I had been to some beautiful places. Granger looked thoughtful. "What is it?" I asked.
"It doesn't matter, a stupid thing to ask." I was puzzled.
"It's okay. Ask away. There's still a lot of glass in my arm." I suggested.
"Some in your face too Malfoy." She added. "I'd wondered. If you ever killed anyone." She looked a little afraid that I might lash out at her for asking. I tamed down the building urge to do so.
"It's complicated and a little confusing." She nodded. " I was under the effects of the Imperious curse but the Dark Lord had tampered with the spell. He found a way for me to be witness to myself even though I was taken over by the curse. My memories and experience of it are fuzzy and clouded as if I were drunk. My Aunt Bella did teach me to use occlumency in an effort to fight the effects of the curse but it didn't work at all. Plus when I did try it, the Dark Lord threatened to kill me." I gasped in pain.
"So you did kill someone?" She asked.
"The Ministry classified it as Murder, though I didn't kill anyone living. I destroyed Dementors." I sighed. Her face hardened.
"Dementors cannot be destroyed Malfoy. They're a non being." She stated.
"The Dark Lord referred to them as the undead. He wished to be master of all species but Dementors were tricky. They are never fully ruled by anyone because they have nothing to gain and nothing to lose. I was largely involved in the experiments which led to the death of the undead. It was gruesome, horrible stuff and I'm grateful that I cannot remember it with great clarity." I shuddered.
"Didn't they try to suck out your soul?" She asked.
"To the Dark Lord, that was part of the fun." His laugh rang in my ears.
"Why would the Ministry consider it murder?" She puzzled.
"The Ministry is working hard to win over the Dementors. Through my taking veritusirum before the Ministry, they now know how to kill them if they don't conform. However, instead of stooping to threatening to cull the race, they took a rather more amiable approach. Should they be killed, the attacker would be charged with murder as if the Dementors were a human race." I finished as the last shard was removed from my arm.
"And you were let off because you were under the influence of the imperious curse?" She healed the final cut before turning her attention to the mirror shards in my face.
"Yes. Any and all crimes I committed were either under the influence of the curse or under threat of execution or worse by the Dark Lord." I answered.
"Why do you still call Voldemort the Dark Lord? After being forced to do such terrible things I would have thought you might call him Voldemort." She drew another shard from my face and healed the laceration it caused to the same point as the rest. She must have been a believer in allowing injuries to complete healing on their own. I took a deep breath.
"I was the Dark Lords favourite. In turn, I was the only Death Eater with permission to call him Tom. Although I first became a Death Eater by way of the Dark Lord punishing my Father, after the death of Dumbledore and the release of the Death Eaters from Azkaban it seemed he took a shine to me. He stayed in my room at the Manor, any spare time he could find was spent teaching me dark magic and commanding me to torture people. He seemed to find it hilarious. I call him the Dark Lord because I don't want the memories of calling him Tom." Grangers face had contorted in anguish. She had finished removing the glass, shards laid bloody on a tray on her lap. There looked to be an awful lot of it.
"I still think you should go to the hospital wing. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey would be able to give you something for the pain." She looked adamant.
"I've been through so much pain lately, these cuts almost feel like a friendly tickle." I itched the dark mark on my left arm.
"Did you get glass in there too?" She asked looking at my arm. I rolled up my sleeve to reveal my dark mark. It was covered in scratch lines and the skin around it was raised and red.
"No, it just constantly itches and burns." I admitted.
"It looks horrible Draco. You need some soothing salve." She took hold of my arm and studied the mark. "Is the other one like this?" She asked and blushed.
"I'm pretty sure it's worse but I aren't showing you that one." I smiled to myself whilst pulling my sleeve back down.
"I didn't mean.." She blushed brighter.
"I know. It was meant to be a joke, Hermione." A hint of smile showed on my face and she responded with a mirrored expression. I wasn't sure I was comfortable with first names but I was appreciative of her patching me up. A trip to the hospital wing was something I wanted to avoid.
"I need to grade some Transfiguration papers but I can bring them out here if you want company." She offered.
"I'll just go grab my homework." I replied.
A/N - Thanks for reading, more adventures to come!