…also known as 'Draco, Hermione and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.'
Or 'In which Bellatrix is mysteriously still alive'.
Or 'In which the readers play Spot the Labyrinth reference'.
Or 'The author forgot to update the story and is very, very sorry'. Take your pick.
Disclaimer: If I had written the Harry Potter books, this would not be called fanfiction. It would just be regular fiction. I own no part of Harry Potter (besides my copy of the books), the characters or their personalities.
Barsley, Audrey and the mysteriously unnamed girl (you'll see her later on) are my brain children. Please do not feed them.
Warning: More delightful Luna-swearing in this one. Plus lots of perspective changes and Draco is angsty.
Draco
I woke up to a dawn the color of old parchment. The yellowish sky looked diseased. No birds chirped. I got up and went to the window. The well-kept grass and large, elegant garden looked obnoxiously out of place in the scene. I checked the gold and silver clock still leaning against my bedside table. It was 4:03 AM. The sun shouldn't even have been up yet.
A sound like a gunshot startled me. Barsley had Apparated directly into my room.
"Master," he creaked with a low bow. The tips of his large ears brushed the ground.
"What do you want, Barsley?" I asked. Merlin's beard, that scared me. "You ought to punish yourself for startling your master."
"Terribly sorry, Master!" Barsley picked up my hideous gold clock and began to beat himself over the head with it. "Bad, bad Barsley! Master was startled!" He beat himself for several minutes. When he had tired himself out, he put the clock down and swept into a low bow.
"Barsley is a bad elf, Master Malfoy," he said quietly with utmost respect.
"You are a well trained elf. Do not let it happen again, am I clear?" I looked at him as sternly as I could while half asleep. Barsley looked up at me, his eyes glistening with gratitude.
"Master Malfoy will not be disappointed!" He said.
"Why did you come here, Barsley?" I asked, slipping out of my stern master tone.
"Your aunt, the Madam Bellatrix is here, Master," Barsley said. His voice was hoarse. "She is waiting for you in the second floor parlor. The Madam gave me a message for you, sir. May I deliver it?" He stayed in his low bow, looking reverently up at me.
"You may. And stand up." Of course, only Bellatrix would call at such a beastly hour.
"The Madam told me, 'Tell Draco we have...business to attend to.'" Barsley copied Bellatrix's tone so perfectly, I almost responded the way I would have to her. I caught myself just in time.
"You are dismissed, Barsley." He bowed again and hurried out of the room instead of his usual Disapparation.
How do those house elves keep bowing so often? I wondered. And what is Aunt Bellatrix's 'business'? It can't be good. I dressed in my proper wizarding robes (Bellatrix didn't allow Muggle clothing) and combed my hair. I left it loose that day.
Arming myself with my wand, I left the room and hurried to the tea parlor on the second floor. Malfoy Manor had several parlors, each designated for a different purpose. The one on the fourth floor, down the hall from my bedroom, was for signing agreements and contracts. The parlor on the first floor was for entertaining social guests. The parlor on the sixth floor was used for meetings of a violent nature, such as organizing duels. The dueling chamber was three floors down. This forced duelers to walk down the stairs together civilly before attempting to kill each other.
The parlor on the second floor was for family matters only. It was seldom used after the war, once the Death Eaters officially disbanded. Very few people in the family ever used it, as most meetings fit into the categories of social, business or violent.
I walked down the second floor hallway, mentally noting where each door led. I stopped near the end of the hall, in front of a black door carved with ominous looking Celtic symbols. I didn't even pause to look at the symbols. Instead I grasped the silver door handle and felt the familiar warm rush of the spell used to detect pure blood status travel through my body. When it had subsided, I turned the handle and opened the door.
Bellatrix Lestrange was sitting casually by the fireplace, holding a filled cup of tea and reading a small book. A teapot and another cup sat on the small, polished table. The west wall was entirely made of glass, one gigantic window. The dark green curtains were drawn shut. On the opposing wall was hung a portrait of my mother directly after her marriage, age sixteen. Two bookshelves were placed to either side of the fireplace, both crammed with books. The room's white and silver striped wallpaper was tasteful. This had always been my favorite of the parlors in the house.
Bellatrix looked up from her book when I entered. She had aged since I last saw her. The corners of her mouth had tightened, and wrinkles creased the edges of her eyes. A few strands of gray streaked her dark, unruly hair.
"Draco," she said in greeting.
"Aunt Bellatrix, how nice to see you." I kept my tone cool and detached. Though I would never admit it, this woman scared me. I took the chair opposite hers and poured myself a cup of tea. The Japanese tea set was my father's favorite. He used to say he wanted to be buried with the teacups. Why didn't we bury him with one?
I sipped my tea. It tasted like a cross between wealth and an old sock. I kept the grimace off my face and continued to sip politely.
"We have business, Draco," Bellatrix said. She abandoned all formality, including the necessary Malfoy silence before any business was conducted.
"And what business would that be?" I asked.
"You have been seen with the Mudblood girl," Bellatrix replied. Rage was barely concealed on her face. She leaned forward in her chair. I suddenly recalled Vera's words to me: Tell your aunt about the plan.
Damn, the woman was right.
"I can explain this," I began.
"No explanations!" Bellatrix cut through, her eye twitching.
"It is a-"
"Nothing can excuse this!" Her tone was the hysterical one I had heard her use to taunt her victims before she killed them.
"-Revenge plan," I finished calmly. "A revenge plan suggested by Vera Zabini."
"Vera?" Bellatrix's tone was still hysterical, but her eyes had calmed.
"Yes, I met her at St. Mungo's hospital in America. A very pleasant woman," I took another sip of my tea for dramatic effect.
"A revenge plan, did you say?" Bellatrix leaned back. "Tell me more."
I pulled my wand from the folds of my robes. Bellatrix reached for her own, but stayed her hand when she saw what I was doing.
"Accio revenge plan," I said, slashing my wand through the air. Almost immediately the paper Vera had given me zoomed into the room. It fell into my lap. I put down my cup of tea and waved my wand over the paper. "Vera told me so." I offered the paper to Bellatrix.
Her eyebrows climbed higher and higher as she read. She laughed and handed it back to me. "Yes, that's one of Vera's, alright," she said. "Just her sort of thing. She came up with the most marvelous plans. She was good with potions and poisons too. I do miss her." Bellatrix sipped her tea and grimaced. "Merlin, that's awful." She put it down on the table. I folded the paper and said the words to wipe it blank again.
"Is my explanation satisfactory, Aunt Bellatrix?" I asked.
"Your mother did teach you some manners, Drakey-Wakey," she replied, using my embarrassing childhood nickname. "Yes, your-" she dropped into a mockery of my voice-"explanation is satisfactory." She laughed again. "Call me Auntie Bella, dear. I never could stomach this ridiculous formality. Cissy always insisted on it, though. That, and bad tea. Why does she like this tea so much?"
I recognized that she was rambling off into a memory. I pretended to listen and tried not to fall asleep. Does she ever shut up?
"And that's why you should always listen to my stories. Wake up over there!" Bellatrix snapped her fingers in front of my face. "You need some sleep, boy."
"Yes, Auntie Bella." I tried not to roll my eyes like a sullen teenager. She ruffled my hair.
"Oh, you're all grown up now. A regular big man you are." She said in a coddling voice. "My wittle Dwako is awl gwown up!"
I mustn't fight Bellatrix, I mustn't, I mustn't. Despite my mental instruction to myself, I pointed my wand at her.
"You're testing me, Auntie Bella." I said coldly. She froze, then giggled like a school girl before looking at the wand resting against her collarbone. Bellatrix gulped.
"Very well, Draco," she said in her former composed tone. "You have passed my test." She smiled at me just a little too wide. It unnerved me. I kept my wand held high.
"Do not treat me like a child." I said quietly.
"I will not."
"Good." I stowed my wand back in my robes.
"Oh, and I'm staying here tonight," Bellatrix said.
"Why?" I asked, much like a child would.
"Oh, business in the area. Nothing interesting," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Then, if you'll excuse me I have other things to attend to today," I said, adopting my formal tone again. I picked up Vera's paper and left the parlor, feeling as though Bellatrix should probably be hospitalized for her mood swings. And the sadism. But that's not important. I thought sarcastically. I checked the clock in the hall. It was now 7:30.
What a waste of a morning.
I was tempted to go back to bed. But a Malfoy rises early, and I was already awake. My mother was already out of the house doing 'business' whatever that might mean and I didn't need to be into work until noon, so I decided to take a walk.
The cool morning air calmed me down and woke me up. I wandered through the woods on the outskirts of town. They were lush woods, filled with ancient trees. The forest was imbued with magic because it was so close to Ottery St. Catchpole. I breathed deeply.
The center of the forest was marked by a frayed and decaying red ribbon tied to the lowest branch of a large tree. Beyond it was the oldest tree in the forest, standing alone in a clearing. The tree had been there longer than anyone could remember. The people of the town treated it with idiotic reverence. While many of the other trees were carved with initials or messages, this tree's bark held no man made mark.
It was burned from lightening, and riddled with bowtruckle holes, and moles dug down into the soil at its roots. The tree's leaves were a coppery color and a few fell down as a sighing wind blew through the clearing.
I moved closer to the tree and leaned against it. I picked up a branch from the ground and took out the knife I always carried. Whittling was a Muggle pastime that I quite enjoyed. I had become quite good at it over the years.
I carved a miniature Bellatrix, leaving the face blank. I filled it in with magic and held it away from me to admire my handiwork. Her expression of ecstatic rage was the one I remembered she had worn during the War. I tapped my wand against the ground next to the tree and a neat, round hole opened in the earth.
Around the walls of the hole were small shelves I had made when I was thirteen. Standing on the shelves were more miniature people. I took inventory of them quickly, more out of habit than fear one had disappeared.
On one side of the hole were the Death Eaters and other thralls of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. On the other was the 'light side'. Standing at the front of the collection of the 'light side' were the three people I hated most. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, miniaturized in wood, were standing confidently at the edge of the shelves.
Though I would never admit it, I was especially proud of the Potter figurine. I had spent a long time detailing the clothing and messy hair just so during the summer after Dumbledore died. Where Weasley and Granger's faces were basic and stared blankly, Potter's was so close to the actual person that I half expected him to come to life and jinx me. It had been my only diversion from the plans of the Death Eaters, which seemed to buzz about my ears like a hive of hornets.
I put Bellatrix in the empty spot I had saved for her on the right of You-Know-Who. She fit there perfectly, as I knew she would. I looked around furtively to make sure no one was watching. When I was sure I was alone I whispered a dusting spell. Instantly all the figures were gleaming and new looking.
"Perfect," I muttered. I closed up the hole and put my wand away. After glancing around once more I settled against the tree and relaxed.
"A fine morning, tree," I said. "Bellatrix interrupted, though. Bitch." Of course, the tree didn't respond. I always felt a bit insane talking to a tree, but no one had ever caught me doing it. I had begun talking to this tree when I was seventeen and the war was in full swing. I had yelled and cursed at it and taken out all my rage on the old elm tree until I couldn't even speak. I fell to the ground in exhaustion and frustration and simply stared up at the branches for hours, thinking. I only went back to the house when it began to rain.
I'm going to break Hermione Granger's heart, I thought suddenly. It was a marvelous thought. I began to laugh uncontrollably and silently. A brokenhearted Mudblood! Granger, Granger, Granger! I'm going to break her heart!
Hermione
I called Luna (and woke her up) as soon as I had finished my coffee. That dream was just too weird to ignore. She had barely hung up when I heard a knock on my door. I knew it was Luna; no one else knocked in a rhythm like that. Tap…tap…taptaptap…tap…tap…taptaptap. I opened the door to Luna, standing in her pajamas.
"You could have put clothes on, it wasn't really that urgent," I told her, closing the door behind her.
"Dreams fade fast. The Nargles eat them up. Tell me everything you remember." Luna was as business-like as she could sound, although she couldn't have been awake for more than five minutes.
"Okay…" I took a deep breath and told her the whole dream, ignoring the lascivious mental shimmies of my libido. Luna didn't even blink.
"The art wall is just a familiar scene. This dream is similar to the last one, but Malfoy was outside the wall with you at first. That tells me that you're thinking about him more. Not a good sign, 'Mione! You can't trust Malfoy, no matter what he says to you. You're starting to believe that he's good on the inside, which is reinforced by the Dark Mark becoming the line from the poem. You can't let him get to you!
"The phrase 'Us, together', sounds like love poetry or a line from a song. Oh, be warned, Malfoy can sing. Watch out for that in future dreams. 'Everybody folds for love', suggests that some part of you wants to give in to him. Don't let it. No matter what that little voice in your head says, do not let him get closer."
Why does she know about that voice? For that matter, why does she know Malfoy can sing?
"He carved his name into your heart. That's a classic symbol of possessive love. But you carved your name into his heart, too. My guess is that that's meant to represent some form of mutual give and take, like the exchange of wedding rings. You might have been thinking about Harry and Ginny's wedding. However, this is the old trick offered by the fairy tale villain. It can be described as follows-
"'Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.'" Luna paused for breath.
"Note that in this agreement the terms of your slavery are clearly defined. Fear him and love him and do as he says. Whereas the terms of his slavery are simply marked by the word 'slave', which could mean almost anything. In this way you become more pledged to him than he is to you and your heart gets broken." Her expression darkened as she spoke and I wondered what had happened to her to make her give this advice.
"That you didn't feel disturbed by him ripping his heart out…that actually sounds like another of Agatha Reverie's theories. She made the parallel between evil acts and gruesome dreams. Being undisturbed my gruesome dreams reinforces the fact that you're starting to think of him as less evil.
"Here's my conclusion: You're intrigued by the idea of Malfoy, and as much as you deny it some part of you wants to get closer to him. Remember how yesterday I said you should just fuck him and get it over with? Don't do that. I can see now you have too much of an emotional attachment-to the dreams at the very least-to do that safely," she finished. Luna looked at me with her wide, sad eyes and her Care Bear pajamas and I knew she was right.
No-o-o….my libido cried silently from wherever it was lurking in my head. But what about the DREAMS? Can we at least keep those around?
No! I told it firmly. Go away.
I went into work for my afternoon shift that day. The coffee shop cheered me up a bit. Audrey smiled her big, Weasley grin at me.
"You look like you've got something on your mind," she remarked. I smiled back.
"Just nightmares," I replied.
"Drink some coffee-it keeps the sleep away!" She winked at me and left, letting the door slam obnoxiously loud behind her. I laughed and put on my apron. Time for another day of work.
Draco
There wasn't anything I needed to do at work that day. Assignments were spotty there. It was rare to have something to do for four days in a row. I curtly greeted my coworkers and left again, Apparating to the Café Du Locke where Blaise would probably be waiting. If he wasn't there, I could at least talk to Vanessa.
Hermione
The shop wasn't nearly as full as usual, so I spent some time discreetly people watching. I tried to figure out people's names and what they were thinking. The girl in the dark corner with a gigantic mug of coffee and too many piercings? I named her Catherine. She was mentally cursing her parents for restricting her so much. The boy dressed too formally with his hair combed over to the side? He was waiting for his girlfriend, his name was Kurt and he was wondering if his tie was crooked. The short girl muttering to herself in German? Her name was Emma and she was trying to make a large decision in her head.
"Slytherin." I looked blankly at the speaker. "I said, Slytherin. Or are you deaf now, as well as a Mudblood?" I blinked at the insult and my vision came back into focus. It was Malfoy, leaning against the counter with his usual scowl. "Hello? Earth to Granger!" He waved his hand in front of my face. "Not all of us have time to stare, you know."
Us. Together, my brain whispered.
No, I replied. Not together. He just called me a Mudblood. He's scowling at me now and insulting me. It was illogical that I couldn't stop looking at his arm, wondering if the Dark Mark was still there. It was illogical that I was trying to mentally describe the color of his eyes. It was illogical that I should be feeling pain in my chest…
"Like what you see?" Malfoy asked, smirking and gesturing to himself. I rolled my eyes at him.
"Granted. Go away, Malfoy, you're holding up the line," I told him impatiently, though there was no line behind him. The Slytherin door opened in the wall. With a wink and a scowl, Malfoy strutted off to the Slytherin room.
Talk about mixed messages! I thought to myself.
Us…together…some part of my brain-I had begun to call it the 'Dream 'Mione'-whined
No. I reminded it.
Oh, c'mon! Let DM dream! You don't want to admit it, but she wants to d-o M-a-l-f-o-y just as much as I do. My libido (Evil 'Mione) chimed in.
Will you two shut up! Go play strip poker with Divination Facts or something. They slinked off to find the small part of my brain devoted to Divination, presumably to play strip poker with it.
The German girl stepped timidly up to the counter. "Hullo," she greeted me quietly. "Um, can you tell me where I can find…" She looked down at a small scrap of paper in her hand. "Draco Malfoy?" I laughed.
"He went through the door that just appeared in the wall over there. Do you want me to take a message for him?" The girl's face brightened visibly.
"Oh, yeah, yeah. You are his girlfriend? I want to give him a message from the Salem Institute," she said quickly.
"Not his girlfriend. Oh, hell no. But I can take the message for him," I told her.
"But if you and he are not dating, why does he talk to you that way?" She asked. My cheeks grew suddenly hot.
"Er, what way? We're not friends at all, actually. I just see him a lot," I replied. The girl smiled nervously. I was suddenly reminded of Luna's expression when she was
about to say something embarrassing.
"Oh, okay. Then I will give you the message. Will you write it down?" She asked in a different tone. I pulled out the small pocket notebook and pen I kept with me at all times.
"Right. What's the message?"
"The message is this: 'The Juno girls liked your entrance before, and got a lot more severe taunting the Hestia students. It's become a real problem We need you to come in and fix that. Just talk to the seventh year Juno girls, please. Reply with the date you can do it. Regards, Professor Alxemia, potions master for the Salem Witches' Institute.'" The German girl talked almost as fast as I could write, but I got the message down. I tore the piece of paper off the pad and shoved both into my pocket.
"I'll give him the message," I assured her.
"Thank you!" She ducked her head and left the café, closing the door gently behind her.
Draco
All I could think as I stepped into the Slytherin section of the Café was Mission: Failed. I screwed that one up. Damn. Damn. Damn.
I bought a coffee from a squat girl with dull gray eyes. Vanessa was off sick. Blaise was not at our usual table, though why I had expected him to be I don't know. I went to the table any way, stepping around the stools that dotted the floor in an unruly maze. It was the kind of day where everything looked darker than it was and you could never drink enough coffee to wake up properly.
I didn't even get to drink my coffee. I tripped on one of the stools and spilled the hot liquid all over my shoes.
"Hell's bells!" I yelped, dropping my coffee cup. I looked around the room to see everyone staring. My cheeks flamed.
Calm, Draco. It's coffee. It's just coffee. It doesn't matter. I quickly gave up on calming myself. This is NOT a good day.
Special thanks to my reviewer, 3Draco123, who reminded me that I started writing this story and at least one person is waiting to read it. 3Draco123 (may I call you 3?), a special message to you: I really suck, don't I? I totally forgot about this story and kept you waiting for a month! *Dramatically breaks down into tears*. And the worst part is…this isn't even the end of the story yet.
The mysteriously unnamed German girl, Dream 'Mione and Professor Alxemia will all be making reappearances.
Did you find my blatant reference to the 80s movie Labyrinth?
Oh, and thanks to HachimansKitsune (speaking of Labyrinth references) for giving me that 'talking to your libido idea'. If you're reading this, I'm a big fan.
I solemnly swear that I, Katrina Lonestar, will not make you wait a month for the next chapter. Even if I have play rehearsals for the next two months or so.
I love you both, my small following!
-Kat