Change and Hope: A Dramione Story

Chapter 1

Harry Potter was dead. Really, truly dead. As a doornail.

The whole courtyard outside Hogwarts had become absolutely silent. No student, professor, Death Eater, or even the Dark Lord himself made a sound. Draco could feel his heart racing in his chest as he looked around at the faces of his classmates, holding his breath and mentally trying to control the drops of sweat gathering on his forehead from dropping down his nose. He let out his breath slowly, his hands shaking in an effort to control the panic he felt rushing through his veins. What was going to happen now?

The silence was broken abruptly by a sharp, brutal, ear-splitting laugh. Draco focused his eyes on the source- the Dark Lord himself. He swallowed the fear in his throat, shuffling slightly so that he could feel the warmth of his mother’s arm on his. He was surprised to feel her shaking just as much as he was. Bellatrix soon joined in the Dark Lord’s laughter, their voices joining in a piercing chorus, one that drew tears to Draco’s eyes. He blinked suddenly, trying to disperse the water, but only succeeded in letting a large drop roll down his cheek and drip off his chin onto the pavement.

Draco looked down at the splatter, a perfect splatter, right in the center of a brick in the courtyard. The sight of his tear only made his eyes water even more and the hole in his chest grow. It felt like one thousand pounds was crushing down on his shoulders and he was suffocating.

It was then that he realized that it had become nearly silent once again. The laughter had died and the only sound heard now was the small sound of a crying girl. Draco lifted his head, glancing toward the sound, seeing Hermione Granger crumpled on the ground in defeat, her bushy hair falling in knots over her shoulders, matted in her face. Draco lifted his head slightly more, watching her body shake with sorrow. Draco closed his eyes and kept them closed for a long time, finally reopening them with his chin up, standing with an air of faux pride. He set his mouth in a scowl, trying to hide his emotion. The Dark Lord removed his wand from his robes and turned on Granger.

“You, Mudblood. Stand.” He pointed his wand at her as she slowly lifted her head, stood, and  pushed her bushy hair behind her ears. Draco tried to look away from her blotchy, tear-streaked face, but he couldn’t draw his eyes from her. There was a certain look in her eyes that kept him focused on her even through all her pain. The Dark Lord kept his wand pointed at her but did not cast a spell. Instead, he walked in a tight circle around her, whispering things that only she could hear. From the tears that once again began streaming down her cheeks, Draco could tell that they were not polite whispers. Finally, the circling stopped and the Dark Lord lowered his wand, standing in front of her once more. “So. What do you say, Mudblood?”

Hermione looked up into the face of the Dark Lord, furrowed her eyebrows, and spat. Loudly. A shriek escaped Bellatrix’s lips and she ran toward Granger, wand raised. “Crucio!” The Dark Lord swiveled on the spot, flicking his wand at Bellatrix with such force that she was knocked backwards onto her rear. “How dare you, you filthy Mudblood?!?”

“Silence, Bellatrix,” the Dark Lord spoke, unexpectedly and more calmly than Draco had anticipated. He reached a gruesome hand to his face and wiped the saliva off his cheek, flicking it back toward Granger, who was once again on the ground, shaking, this time in pain. Draco was having a difficult time breathing silently, his small, short breaths coming in shallow wheezes, audible in the deafening silence.

“I have a better punishment for her than that.” He turned toward the Death Eaters and smiled, though there was nothing happy about the smile. There was only evil. “We shall use her as a test.” Draco was shaking so badly that he could no longer control himself. He was squeezing his fists so hard that his fingernails had penetrated the soft flesh of his palms and had caused small trickles of blood to run down his fingers. The Dark Lord was walking toward Draco slowly, grinning that evil grin, his eyes glittering with malice. “She can help us initiate out newest member of the club.” That drew small, evil chuckles from several hooded figures and a slight shudder from Draco’s mother.

“Do as he asks, child,” she whispered to him as the Dark Lord approached. “Do what he tells you to do.” Draco looked up at his mother, watching her tired face wrinkle in pain. Draco could feel the stress form in her body. “Please, Draco. Do as he asks.” Her voice shook with the last whisper, sending chills up Draco’s spine. What was happening? He looked away from his mother to the Dark Lord, and then to the sobbing pile of robes that was Granger. The Dark Lord came to a stop in front of him and placed a cold hand on his shoulder, smirking.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you ready?” Draco looked around at the Death Eaters standing around him, listening to them chuckle softly. “Are you truly ready to be one of us? Truly ready?!?” The Dark Lord broke into a hideous cackle. He leaned closer to Draco, speaking softly in his ear.

“Take her and make her yours.” Draco looked up at the Dark Lord, his eyes wide in hear. The only response to his gaze was another laugh. Draco swallowed his fear and nodded. It was a disorganized, hasty nod, one stemming from the panic he felt and the pressure of the most powerful wizard in the world staring at him intently. Forcing his shaky legs to work, Draco staggered across the clearing to where Granger lay. She had become silent and was now looking at him through the mess of her hair, her eyes pleading.

“Malfoy, please…” She stopped speaking as soon as she started, her beautiful eyes going dead, losing all emotion, all feeling. Draco’s heart broke for her, but his heart broke for himself as well. How could he do as the Dark Lord had asked? Draco grabbed Granger’s arm and pulled her to her feet. Draco tilted her chin up roughly, forcing her to look at him, though, whether or not she was actually seeing anything out of her dead eyes, he did not know.

“I’m so sorry, Granger,” he whispered to her, tears welling up in his eyes. She just stared blankly, gave no response whatsoever. Draco looked over his shoulder at the hooded Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, took a deep breath and spun on his heel, still holding tightly onto Granger’s arm, disapparating.