Chapter 1: Persuasion
1998 - Battle of Hogarts
"Dispose of your dead with dignity," he said, his voice echoing through the temples of Hogwarts' remaining professors and students. "Every drop of magical blood spilt was a waste."
And a waste it was. Chaos abrupt along the castle and its corridors. The dead were spread along what used to be the cheerful, magically great hall. Those who fought ruthfully and fell fighting for the cause in this treacherous battle lay lifeless on cots that multiplied in numbers. Among those, the great wizards and witches that fell were two brilliant souls: Professor Remus Lupin and his love, Nymphadora Tonks—both were members of the Order of Phoenix and loyal protectors of Harry Potter and those who followed. Professor Lupin and Tonks had died, understanding that they would put the people they love in a safer place...a safer world. Amidst those was their beloved son, Edward Remus 'Teddy' Lupin.
"Others will tell him what his mother and father died for. One day he'll understand."
-Remus Lupin.
2001 - 3 Years Later
Malfoy Manor
Misty haze fog washed over the cold dark manor on the fine Saturday evening. A now older Draco Malfoy can is seen walking down the dark black marble hallway. His footsteps echoed in the hall. The signature Malfoy family colours were the manor's dark features and aggressive colour tones. Hurrying down the corridor, the older Draco Malfoy allowed his dark black robes to fly behind him as he took consistent-length strides.
"Ah, hello, Dear," Draco called out blissfully.
On sat the long black sofa was a young woman who went by the name of Astoria Greengrass. Having been a part of the sacred twenty-eight pureblood families in wizarding history, Astoria understood the dark, ferocious colours that decorated the manor. Draco and Astoria were newlyweds trying to enjoy their now-married life together.
"Good morning to you too, darling," Astoria said in a calm voice as she flipped through the Daily Prophet as the warm colours of the fire reflected onto her face.
"Right, I will be off then to work. I probably will come no later than midnight, dear." Draco said exhaustedly, shrugging on his coat.
She eyed him, annoyed. Astoria always became displeased when her husband came home late. However, she began to understand that working for the ministry was a challenging profession.
"Post came for you, Draco." She gestured a cold white hand to the house-elf, who stumbled into the room with a salver neatly placed with the post.
"From whom might I say!?" Hissed Draco as he snatched the post aggressively from the silver tray. "I am going to be late".
The house elf stumbled down and hurried out of the room.
Some things never change. Draco still had his white-blond hair, with the same pesky attitude.
"POTTER!?" Wheezed Malfoy bringing a hand to his face. "I don't believe that fool wrote to me."Smashing up the letter and heading towards the fire pit.
"Draco…you should listen to him, perhaps." His wife pleaded, getting up off the couch. "What he has to say is important."
With one sly glance at his wife, Draco realised she knew of the letter's contents that fumbled between his palms.
"Why? Have you gone through my post? I understand you are my wife, but my post is mine! Some of it may be personal!"
"What, like the letter from a Mr Harry Potter is personal?" An eyebrow raised towards Malfoy.
She has learned to subdue his sharp attitude throughout her years of living and loving the cruel man.
Draco stood chewing with his bottom lip, eyeing the woman with crossed arms and a glare too similar to the one he does.
"It doesn't matter", Draco finally said, breaking the silence with a lawful sigh. "I don't want anything to do with that blood filth Potter. I could barely stand him whilst I was in school. I don't want to be bickering with that selfish prat in my adult years now, do I?" The husband gave a final scowl and tossed the letter in the fireplace.
Weeks passed, and Harry sent Draco several owls within the period. However, each time one of his elves handed the post to him, he ignited it with flames using the spell 'Incendio'.
"Why the hell isn't he responding!? It has been nearly a month, and I am getting impatient waiting for an owl!" Bellowed an older and exhausted Harry Potter. Harry wore a dark red jumper with jeans. His glasses were now much like his father's, and his hair appeared ruffled with lack of sleep.
Ginny could see how frustrating this was to Harry and hated to see him stressed.
"Perhaps we shall send him one more tonight, Harry-"
"Or perhaps I shall go over to his filthy manor myself and use one of the unforgivable curses!" Growled Harry ruffling his hair as he sat at the dining table.
The memories of the Malfoy manor flushed through him as he remembered the terrified screams of his best friend, Hermione.
Harry had rewritten the letter several times, wondering if Malfoy had seen the letter at all. What he wanted wasn't urgent, but it was necessary. The wizard was infuriated at his helpless attempts to persuade the wrathful man but ultimately failed.
"This wasn't even my idea", he repeated to himself several times. Ginny and Andromeda have convinced him to do it, saying it was a 'good idea'.
Nothing about it was a good idea.
Harry broke out his quill and parchment and began to write…again. Ginny watched eagerly, sipping her hot chocolate as Harry put together his words and splattered ink throughout the parchment. After he finished, he sealed it up and kissed Ginny to bed.
"I'll send it in the morning." Signed the exhausted wizard rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. "I am going to wash up now. Meet you to bed."
Harry receded upstairs, and once Ginny had heard the door close, she swiped up the letter and reached for her wand. She wrapped the letter with the Daily Prophet that came in the mail today and mumbled the spell 'Portus' under her breath, pointing her wand towards the letter. Once Ginny was pleased with her wrapping, she quickly set the letter back in its place and ran up the stairs to join her boyfriend.
The following day came, and Draco was already running late to work. He hurriedly bellowed at the house elves to fetch his things as he collected his briefcase and wand. Shrugging on his coat, he noticed the pile of unopened posts and parcels by the door.
"Bloody fools! Can't even do your sodding jobs, eh? Collect the post, will you!?" Malfoy barked at the house elves scurrying to his feet with his belongings in hand.
Malfoy sneered and snatched the rest of his things from the terrified elves.
"Whatever, you useless pieces of flesh! Get out of my sight now!"
Malfoy took a glance at the pile of posts and parcels. With hesitation, he scrambled in the pile for the Daily Prophet. He was working on a case and found it necessary to collect any information on the suspect he was hunting. Merlin knew Rita Skeeter couldn't help keeping her nose out of anything.
Draco finally came upon the letter that was wrapped with the daily prophet. He swept it up, stuffed it into his coat pocket, and began to the fire pit. Scooped up some floo powder and said in a loud, clear voice.
"Ministry of Magic."
Green flames appeared, and Malfoy was gone.
A sweep of wind bristled the older wizard's face, and Draco set off to his office. Another late night shift he would be working.
Blimey!
Astoria wasn't aware of his late shift, but he had hoped she would understand.
After stumbling past crowds of Aurors, teachers, workers, and prisoners, he finally made his way to his office. Giving the heavy door a slam, Malfoy sat exhaustedly in his seat. Fumbling through his schedule and stacks of confidential documents, Draco laid back and reached for the
Daily Prophet.
A confused look appeared on Malfoys face as he examined the finely wrapped…thing. As he untied the strings and ripped apart what was left of the Daily Prophet underneath revealed a letter. The words H. Potter reflected in his eyes, and a furry rage shadowed his body.
"What the sodding hell P-" With the grasp of the letter, it sent Malfoy flying in a spinning gaze. The surroundings of his office were completely dissipating as the man's body spun. Draco began to feel disorientated until he landed with a hard thud on a grassy surface.
Ouch.
Malfoy had hit his head on the tumble down, and he struggled while trying to make the world stop spinning. Crackles of thunder broke overhead, and grey clouds began to flow over the area.
"Where the sodding hell am I?"