Chapter 1 - The Beginning
Chapter 1 - The Beginning
It was a beautiful summer night. Hermione J. Granger was standing in her silk night attire, leaning against the window sill of her room, eyes closed, lost in thought.
Wind was flowing through her, slightly less bushy, hair and it brought her restless mind to ease. She had a lot to think about. She was going to be 18 soon, in three months and two days to be exact. Yet despite this, she still had no idea of what she wanted to do, the war, her career, the future… nothing.
One thing she did know was the fact that she would help Harry Potter, her best friend, until the end of the world. She would do all she could to help him destroy Voldemort, and save such a world from darkness. A rather big task, but attainable, and it would all be worth it in the end.
The war had not started yet. Harry was currently at the Burrow, and Hermione had already promised that she would join him and Ron after Bill and Fleur's matrimony to help them. She was going to leave for the Burrow in the next three days to attend the wedding.
With the thoughts of the wedding and meeting her two best friends soon, she smiled and slipped into her blanket to have a peaceful sleep. Her mind was content for now, as she knew she at least had a vague idea of what was approaching. She was determined to come through with flying colors, as always.
Several hundred miles away, a young boy with pale skin, blond hair, pointed features, and eyes, gray and cold like his father, was also standing near the window in a large room of Malfoy Manor. The only difference being that he did not have his eyes closed, but was staring out into the huge garden. This so-called 'garden' looked more like a forest, since it went far into the horizon.
The room he was standing in had tall, vaulted ceiling with petite, yet intricate, chandeliers. An enormous four poster bed and a fireplace took up nearly an entire wall, which was framed by a plush sofa and two large forest green armchairs, with straight backs. The bedspread and sheets were a bright, emerald green, accented with a deep silver. The ceiling was also painted green, and the furnishings were 'Old World' exquisite.
Draco, Draco, you are not a killer.
The words still rang in his mind. The words of a dying man, one whose wisdom Draco had never acknowledged. The words beset him for days as he sought to either deny or accept them. His features were once more still as carved marble, giving no hint as to the torment of his thoughts.
Bloody Snape! He thought bitterly.
Well if it wasn’t for his timely – or untimely? – arrival me and my entire family would be dead by now… he argued among only himself.
It would have been better than being cooped up at the manor all day! And The Dark Lord won’t kill my parents because of me. He reasoned.
I could’ve Avadaed myself if they would give me my wand back! Less pain that way… but no wand means I have to resort to other means…
Well, I could just drown myself in the pond in the backyard of the Manor…
His face contorted into his usual sneer of disgust as he thought about the thick revolting mud sinking into his boots and the lime slime touching his hands…he shuddered. There are worst things than death. And going anywhere near that disgusting pond, with my sensitive skin is one of them!
Instead of turning in for the night, to bed, he decided to get a midnight snack. Since he had lost his personal house elf, Dobby, he now had to go down to the kitchen and ask the other house elf to fulfill his desires.
He was almost at the kitchen when he heard some noise coming from the foyer. It sounded like a man’s voice, and since his father was still in Azkaban, he had to wonder who would be visiting mother… and at this time of night!?
He slyly crept near the foyer, backed up against the wall, trying to hear what they were talking about. He now knew that there was a man present, but why on Earth would a woman be too? And what could this all be about?