Revelatio

Lost Souls In A Flight

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One day,

I'll leave you a phantom

to lead you in the summer

to join the black parade.

- Welcome To The Black Parade,
My Chemical Romance

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A letter.

A letter from Lucius Malfoy.

Couldn't his day be made gloomy in any other way?

He had been tending to his owl, Spinturnix in the owlery when in came flying his father's large black owl, carrying a beastly letter, stating him to be ready by seven in the evening. He was to be at the Manor for some days and he knew what his father wanted all too well.

The Dark Lord was coming. All too soon, for him.

His father and aunt, being the ever-so loyal death eaters had rambled on and on about his abilities. "Draco does this, Draco does that" and other nonsense. By Merlin's grace they didn't know of his recent achievements. His aunt's attitude could be understood; she threw herself openly at Voldemort, even though she was married, therefore it was highly unlikely that she would care for a nephew if she didn't care for her husband. It was good that she was rotting in Azkaban.

But his father? Wasn't his father supposed to care about him and look out for him? Maybe other fathers did that but not Lucius Malfoy. Oh-no-never. Lucius Malfoy had everything in his mind except his son and wife. He was just a power hungry man with an ego whose size was equal to or even more than a Quidditch Pitch.

Draco had no choice but to obey the fanatics. They truly were fanatics. All of them failed to see the cruel irony of the situation. Didn't they realise that all of them so called superior purebloods were being led by a mad and evil halfblood, who was obsessed with the life a boy?

It was this observation that had first led him to break all ties with the belief that purebloods were superior. All the tormenting of muggle-borns that he did at school, was just a mere show for his fanatic pureblood 'friends', so that they didn't tell about his radical ideas to his family. He didn't mean a single word. So much had happened. So much had changed. He was no longer his twelve year old self.

Anyway, he didn't have a choice, did he?

The damned letter wanted him to be ready by seven. Then he would be picked up by a his poor excuse of a father. Apparently he had already talked to Dumbledore.

Damn stupid filthy pureblooddeath eaters...

He didn't pack anything, he was going home after all. He decided that since he was free, he would go to the library. He needed a good textbook to keep his mind from thinking too many bad things about his family because in the end it wouldn't do any good to him. And maybe I would meet her, he thought happily. She was the only one he looked forward to meeting in his grim life.

So he walked, confident as always, as his feet led him towards the library. Upon entering the library, his eyes immediately began searching for the bushy haired girl. He was right as usual. She was sitting in the corner, on the floor by a shelf in a corner, far away from Madame Pince's strict gaze, surrounded by piles of books.