Chapter 5
Later that day, Draco sat surrounded by his friends as he picked nervously at his dinner plate. He had yet to take a bite. Every time the fork came near his mouth, the bile would rise and he worried that if he opened his mouth, he would vomit all over the table. He could see apprehension on his friends’ faces, but none of them seemed as nervous as Draco.
“How can you all be so calm about this? Why am I the only one who can’t handle this? Why am I so weak?” Draco whispered this desperately into Theo’s ear. Theo looked back at him sympathetically.
“You know why, Draco,” he whispered back. “You feel things that the rest of us don’t. It’s easier for us to divorce ourselves from the fact that we’re causing pain and fear. It’s easier for us to pretend it’s not a living thing we’re doing these things to. It doesn’t make you weak. None of us thinks that of you.”
“Maybe you don’t, but everyone else does. Especially Professor Carrow.”
“Forget Professor Carrow. If you’re thinking about him, you’re not concentrating on keeping your walls up, which is the only thing that is going to get you through this. You said that you’ve been making good progress with Snape, right?
Draco sighed. “Yes, you’re right. I should be able to shield well enough to kill a spider at least.”
“That’s the spirit! Now eat up. We need our strength to go kill some bugs.”
An hour later, the dining table had been vanished and replaced with the same individual tables they had used during their first lesson. Draco stood with his elbows propped on the table and his face resting on his hands as he waited for the lesson to start. To anyone on the outside it just looked as if he were bored, but he was actually hard at work putting up Occlumency shields and testing them for weaknesses. He finished just as Professors Snape and Carrow entered the room. Carrow walked to the table in the middle of the room and set down the box he was carrying. Professor Snape brought the meeting to order and informed them that their victims this week would be spiders, just as Draco had predicted. Professor Carrow began handing out spiders, purposely passing Draco multiple times. Draco scowled. Something fishy was going on. Finally Professor Carrow came to a stop in front of him. He made a show of looking in the box and pretending to look surprised.
“Oh, no! It seems I have somehow miscounted. How could this have happened? Well, we shall just have to find you something else to kill, now won’t we? Let me see here.” Carrow waved his wand and said “Accio rodent!” Suddenly a fat, screaming rat came flying through the air and landed in Carrows hand with a soft thud. “I think this should work nicely, don’t you?”
“But that’s not fair! That git is easily ten times bigger than the spiders you were handing out.” Draco said indignantly.
“Oh dear. Is ickle Dracykins too soft and weak to kill a wee little rat?” He came up behind Draco and whispered in his ear, “Goodie. Looks like I’ll be getting a new play thing sooner than I thought.” And with this, he dropped the rat on Draco’s table and walked away, chuckling to himself. Draco scowled at the rat and attempted to get himself back under control.
Professor Snape began the class by going over the correct wand movement for the spell, which Draco was grateful for since he couldn’t remember it to save his life. He waved his wand silently and concentrated on committing the movement to muscle memory. He focused solely on the act, and did not allow his mind to wander to the inevitable consequence of the action. When Professor Snape gave the go ahead to try the spell, Draco took a deep steadying breath. He closed his eyes tight and his mental shields tighter. He knew he needed desire in order to make the spell work. He thought about Carrow and his father, and how he needed to prove himself. He focused on his need to succeed and to stay out of Carrow’s clutches. Then, without allowing himself to hesitate, he opened his eyes, waved his wand and shouted “Avada Kadavra!” There was a jet of green light, and the squeaking of the rat abruptly stopped. Draco stared at the dead rat for a moment, dumbfounded. Then, to his horror, Draco was filled with a feeling of elation. Suddenly he felt strong, powerful. The emotion was heady, making him feel higher than any drug ever had. He had expected the creeping chill that normally accompanied Dark Magic, but instead he felt warm. It started in his wand hand and flowed to fill his entire body. He felt warmer than he had in years.
And then, just as quickly, the feeling began to fade and the frigid cold crept back into his bones. NO! He thought, and frantically looked around for something else to kill so he could make the warmth come back. His gaze landed on Amycus Carrow, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. He was raising his wand to cast the curse again when Snape’s voice startled him out of his haze. “Draco! Impressive work!” Professor Snape was standing at his elbow, looking at the rat with an impressed, if slightly shocked, expression.
“Er, um, that is, I mean, thank you sir.” Draco’s brain was barely working as the full weight of what he had almost done hit him. “May I be excused sir?” He managed to say in a voice that sounded almost normal.
“What?” Snape pulled his eyes away from the rat with difficulty. “Oh, yes, of course. Good work, Draco.” But Draco barely heard the end of this as he was already walking as swiftly as propriety would allow. He burst out of the Great Hall and began running up the stairs, not knowing where exactly he was headed, just needing to keep moving. At some point his shakes had returned. It started in his hands and spread slowly throughout his body. He forced himself to keep walking. He walked up and up and up until he came to a corridor he had never seen before. The only things he could see were a giant tapestry on one wall and a giant, peaked window at the end. He walked to the end of the corridor and placed his forehead against the cool glass. He looked out over the castle grounds, the glow from the windows the only lights he could see as he tried to slow his breathing.
As his heart rate slowed, his mind wandered back to the Great Hall. He had feared that casting the killing curse would make him feel evil, or that he would be able to feel the creature’s pain and emotions. He hadn’t counted on it feeling good. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would actually like it, or that the feeling would be so addicting. He felt sick. Disgusted with himself. Carrow thought his unwillingness to harm others was a weakness, but to Draco, giving in to the pull of that feeling felt like the greatest weakness there was. But he knew he would have to do it again. And again. And again. And he knew that every time he cast it, he would be less and less able to fight the pull and more and more willing to do it again. Once an addict, always an addict, he thought to himself morosely. He pushed away from the window and began pacing up and down the hallway. He had to get out, he had to get away. A tremendous shudder shook his whole body and he had to hold onto the wall to stay on his feet. He couldn’t stay here and do this. He would turn into a shell of himself. The person he’d been in the Great Hall was already unrecognizable to Draco. If he continued on at Slytherin, would any part of him be left unchanged? He could feel the panic rising in his chest. He needed to run. He needed to hide. He couldn’t let them rip him apart and turn him into some mindless killing machine in service to a madman. Draco tore at his hair and spun around and stopped dead in his tracks. There was a door in the middle of the empty wall. The wall had been empty, hadn’t it? That’s why Draco had stopped here, he’d thought there was nothing and no one. He approached the door cautiously.
There was no way he had simply missed this door. It was exquisite. Its peaked arch matched the window next to it. It was 10 feet tall and 8 feet wide. At the top of the peak was a sculpted stone lion head roaring menacingly. On the right side of the door, in intricately carved detail, was a honey badger eating a snake. On the left side was an eagle in flight, with a snake in its beak. The tails of both snakes curved to make the door handles. Draco pulled one, expecting it to be heavy and difficult to open, but it swung easily and silently, as though its hinges had just been oiled that morning. When he looked inside, his breath caught in amazement. This room could not be in Hogwarts. It simply could not exist in the spot where he knew it to be. It made no sense. Draco walked into his childhood bedroom and looked around in amazed confusion. The massive door swung closed behind him, and he turned to find the door had been replaced with a gigantic, gilt framed mirror. He went up to it to try to figure out how to open the door again, but stopped in shock when he realized the mirror did not show his room or even his reflection. Inside he saw a girl. A beautiful girl. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Not that that was saying much. There were a few girls at Hogwarts, but besides Pansy, he had not known very many girls. Pansy was beautiful. She had long black hair and piercing blue eyes. But the trauma looking back at him when he looked into them left him feeling nauseous. He had known Pansy his whole life, and Draco kept a running tally in his head of all the awful things he wasn’t able to save or protect her from. His guilt ate at him every day. But the girl he saw in the mirror… she looked HAPPY. She looked free. He could not see what was happening around her; only that she was smiling the widest smile Draco had ever seen. And then she threw back her head and laughed. He had never seen someone laugh with such abandon. She laughed until tears streamed down her face and she tried wiping them as she continued to laugh uncontrollably. He wished with all his heart that he could hear the sound of it. And suddenly her laughter was ringing in his ears. The most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The mirror shifted, and a message appeared on the glass.
“To change your fate and win the day, you must open what is locked and find what is hidden. You must break apart the past to build the future.” Draco stared at it dumbfounded. What the hell did that mean? He was too tired to think it through, and he had just started shaking again. He tried to rip the mirror off the wall so that he could find the door and leave but it wouldn’t budge. With a cry of frustration he turned around, and his gaze landed on a small table in the middle of the room that shouldn’t be there, and hadn’t been there when he entered. On it was a small vial. In front of it on the table was a note in flowery script that said “For withdrawl symptoms.” Draco picked up the vial and stared at it for a moment before his body shook once more, and he pulled the cork and drank the lot in one swig. Instantly, his insides felt like they were being coated in a warm, soothing liquid. It started in his belly and slowly flowed outward until he felt it in the tips of his hair and nails. He felt like he had turned into the sun and was now radiating heat. What a lovely change from the freezing taint of Dark magic. Even the phantom warmth he’d felt after casting the killing curse was nothing to this feeling. He stumbled to his bed, still in a daze. He pulled off his shoes, crawled in, and fell instantly into the deepest sleep he’d slept in years.
Draco woke slowly the next morning. Still completely disoriented, it took him several minutes to realize that he should NOT be in his childhood room, sleeping in his childhood bed. He sat up and shook his head, trying to clear the remaining fog. He pressed his palms to his eyes as he tried to remember everything that had happened. What was the message on the mirror? He looked over, and the message was still there. Draco committed it to memory. As he walked closer to the mirror, the image shifted again, and the girl’s face appeared again. This time she was sleeping, and Draco noticed details he had missed the first time. She had long, dark brown hair that streamed out around her head in a cloud of curls. As he looked closer he could see a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Although her skin was a sun kissed light brown, something about the shape of her nose and lips reminded him of his friend Blaise, and he wondered idly if she had African ancestry. He had no idea if this girl was real, a figment of his imagination, or some trick the mirror was playing on him. After trying to memorize every curve of her face in case he never saw it again, he wished that she would open her eyes so he could see what color they were. And he desperately wished he could see her smile again so he could feel like maybe, somewhere, in a different life, he could find that kind of happiness. At that exact moment, her eyes slowly opened, and it seemed as if she looked straight at Draco. She looked confused for a moment, and then one side of her mouth slid into a smirk, and one eyebrow arched at him. Then her smile widened into a genuine smile, and the entire mirror shimmered and disappeared, becoming a regular mirror again.
HERMIONE
Hermione awoke with a start. She had been dreaming. She tried to catch the edges of the dream before they blew away in the gentle breeze coming from her open window. There had been a boy. A heartbreakingly beautiful boy, with hair so blonde it was almost white. The details of his face were hazy, but she remembered the look in his eyes. He had looked… sad. Desperately sad. But the way he looked at her… It was almost like the way Ron looks at a Big Mac. Like he was starving, and she was the only cure. She didn’t think Ron had ever looked at her like that. She shivered from more than just the cold as she stood and got dressed for the day.
Throughout the rest of the day, Hermione felt as though there was something she was forgetting. She couldn’t remember the details of her dream, but a strange feeling lingered. She could not place the feeling. Longing maybe? Desperation? It was odd to have a feeling in your heart for which you don’t know the cause. She met up with Harry and Ron for dinner in the dining room. The large room was the oldest part of the manor. It was the original home of Isolt Sayre that had then been turned into the local magic school and had been expanded as needed over the last 400 years. It was quaint and cozy with wood paneling painted in navy blue and cranberry red, with ancient looking brass fixtures. Although the rest of the manor used a combination of electricity and magic to light and heat itself, this room still used candlelight and heat from the enormous fireplace, which made it feel as though you were dining in a medieval pub in Europe. There were no assigned seats or areas. The students were free to eat wherever and with whomever they chose.
Hermione chose a table near the fire. It was almost Christmas and the air had turned decidedly chilly. The boys were droning on about quidditch- their house teams were set to play against each other next week- and Hermione’s mind began to wander. She looked out the window and sighed at the beauty of the snow on the mountains. The house elves had been busy bringing the beauty inside and now there was greenery tied in red bows everywhere. Large evergreen trees sat in each corner, decorated with candles, popcorn, and cranberries. Mistletoe hung in various spots around the room; spots being studiously avoided by the majority of the student body. Another sigh of distracted contentment brought the boys’ attention back to her.
“We’re sorry, ‘Mione. We didn’t mean to leave you out of the conversation. You know how we get about quidditch.” Said Ron sheepishly.
“It’s alright. I know how you boys get during quidditch season. Besides, I was busy enjoying the scenery.” Hermione replied good naturedly. “So, have you boys finished your Charms homework yet?”
The boys were saved from answering this question by the appearance of three house elves carrying a large enchanted tray over their heads. A fourth, older elf walked with them and came to stand beside Hermione.
“Good morning, children! What would you like for lunch? We have hamburgers, clam chowder, lobster ravioli, or pizza.” Said the elderly elf in a high pitched, wobbly voice.
“Mimsy, how many times do we have to remind you we’re not children anymore?” Asked Harry in an annoyed, but not unkind, tone.
Hermione waved her hands to silence him. She had always had a soft spot for the small creatures who took care of all their physical needs, and Mimsy had always been her favorite.
“Mimsy, I love your outfit today! You look so stylish! Is it new?” Hermione asked. All of the house elves working at Ilvermorny were free elves. Hermione knew that many house elves around the world were in captivity, forced by magic to do their master’s bidding and forbidden from leaving unless they were given clothing. The debasing act of depriving a sentient creature of having control over their own body rankled Hermione to no end, and she had long ago decided to go above and beyond in her treatment of them. She knew full well that Mimsy’s outfit was new. It had come from her. There was a box in the foyer of the manor for students to donate their old clothes to the elves. Unlike most of the kids though, Hermione didn’t just donate old clothes. She frequently made trips into North Adams and bought new clothes to donate. She knew Mimsy had a love of fancy dresses, so she had found a frilly red cocktail dress and shrunk it down to her exact measurements. She was pleased to note that Mimsy was preening like a peacock in the new dress.
“Oh, yes, Miss Mione! Mimsy found it in the box, Miss Mione. None of the other elves wanted it, but Mimsy was glad because Mimsy thinks it is the most beautiful dress Mimsy has ever seen, Miss Mione!” At this, she did a twirl to show off the ensemble, which made the trio’s grins grow even wider.
“I agree. I think it is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen, too. Don’t you think so, boys?” Harry and Ron nodded dutifully and murmured their ascent. Then Ron, who rarely thought about anything besides his stomach, decided this conversation had gone on long enough.
“Alright, enough of that. Mimsy, I would like a hamburger with two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun with a large order of fries and a large Coke.”
“Ron! This is not McDonalds!” Hermione said in a harrassed tone. Ron just grinned as his order appeared on the enchanted tray and was handed to him by Mimsy. Harry ordered a supreme pizza with milk duds and chocolate milk. Hermione ordered a breadbowl of New England Clam Chowder with a small ceasar salad and a water. Ron eyed this with clear disdain as he shoved twenty perfectly cooked French fries in his mouth at once, and the immediately started heaving breaths and flapping his arms yelling “Is HO’!!!!!!!” While Harry and Hermione laughed at him.
It was in this moment that she thought she saw a shock of white blond hair and her entire body gave a start. Hermione was confused. She had never met anyone with hair that color before. Was it a new student? Did someone dye their hair? And why did her heart skip a beat when she saw it? She had a vague memory of a dream. More of a feeling, really. But before she could really think about it, they had to leave to go to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
DRACO
Draco laid back in his bed and began to replay every moment he had just witnessed so that he would never forget it. It only took a few minutes before he slipped into a dreamless sleep once more. He awoke slowly several hours later, comfortable and content for the first time in forever. Why had it been so long since he felt this good? For a moment, he couldn’t remember. Slowly, his life seeped back into his consciousness and he felt the ever present horror return. And then it hit him. He couldn’t be in his house. He was still at Hogwarts, in the strange room he had found that had somehow perfectly copied his bedroom. He sat up and looked around. On the table was a new tray, filled with steaming breakfast food and orange juice. Draco tucked in with a fervor.
When the food was gone, he turned back to the mirror on the wall. He wondered how he would get out, but more than that he wished to see the girl again. He didn’t even know if she was real, but he didn’t care. The glass seemed to ripple, and her face appeared, glowing in the combined light of a fire to one side and a window to the other. This time, the mirror did not focus solely on her face, but pulled back to show the whole scene. The view was a breathtaking panorama of snow capped mountains. The room was painted in blue and red, and was decorated elaborately in greenery. The decorations reminded him of the yule celebrations he’d attended as a child, back before they’d been outlawed. The girl was sitting at a table with two boys, and Draco felt a surge of jealousy. Both boys were attractive and athletic looking. One had red hair, blue eyes, and freckles covering his entire face while the other had light brown skin and black hair, and looked like he was from India, aside from his startling green eyes. They were all wearing what looked like school uniforms in blue and red, with golden brooches pinned to their chests.
Slowly, sound began to trickle into Draco’s ears. It took him a moment to be able to understand what they were saying. They spoke in strange accents that he thought may be American but he wasn’t sure. Quidditch! The boys were talking about quidditch! They must be wizards, and so the girl must be a witch. He noticed that the girl was not paying attention to the boys, which made his jealousy die down a little bit. She was staring out the window with a dreamy smile on her face and Draco couldn’t blame her. The view from that window was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, besides the witch next to it of course. And then he heard the ginger one call her Mynee? That couldn’t be right, could it? That didn’t sound like a real name. Then Draco got distracted by the appearance of several house elves, all wearing clothes. He had only ever seen elves either naked or barely covered by a dirty cloth. The elves Draco had seen were pale and malnourished with dull eyes. These elves were hale and hearty with sparkling eyes and large smiles. The oldest one was talking animatedly with Mynee and twirling around in her dress. Draco’s heart clenched when he thought of Dobby and the other house elves they had had when he was young. They had never looked like this. And then, they’d been forced to kill them all. The Dark Lord had determined that all lesser magical creatures, such as elves and goblins, should be eradicated. Draco’s dutiful parents had complied willingly, and had taken the opportunity to get ahead in Draco’s schooling by getting him to practice the cruciatus curse on the elves before he was forced to watch them die. Hurting Dobby, who had been Draco’s closest confidant as a child, and being forced to watch him die, had been the formative experience that had led Draco to turn against everything the Death Eaters believed in. No one knew this, of course, except for his three best friends, but Draco had been planning how to kill the Dark Lord since that day when he was 8 years old.
Draco watched as they ate foods he had never heard of, but which looked amazing. He listened to their light hearted banter and watched them laugh with rapt attention. The whole situation was alien to Draco. Even with his friends there was rarely laughter, and what laughter there was involved humor so dark he hated to even think of it in the witch’s presence. His sadness and longing reached a fever pitch, and Mynee’s head snapped toward him. He thought for a moment that she could see him, but her eyes never focused on him, and she still had a puzzled look on her face as she packed up and left for class, and the glass rippled again.
After standing there for several minutes committing what he’d seen to memory, Draco began to contemplate how to get back into the castle. The mirror had responded to his wish to see Mynee again. Would it reveal the door if he asked?
“Please show me the door.” Nothing happened. Draco considered everything that had happened so far. The room seemed to respond best to intense emotions and needs. That could be an issue. He really didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay here forever watching the mirror. But he knew that if he were missed, he would be subjected to punishment. He glanced at his pocket watch and found it blinking frantically at him MEETING WITH SNAPE IN 5 MINUTES! Bollocks. Suddenly the door appeared in front of him, responding to his need. He looked back at the room longingly and then ran down the hall toward the headmaster’s office.
Draco placed his hand on the wall and heaved some breaths, trying to calm his heart rate and breathing before entering the office. Then he told the gargoyle the word that had been the password for at least as long as Draco had been at Hogwarts.
“Lily!” The gargoyle moved and Draco rode the stairs as they twirled themselves upward toward the headmaster’s office. Professor Snape sneered as Draco entered the office and tossed his shoulder length black hair with one hand.
“You’re late. And my sources say no one has seen you since last night. Where have you been?”
“Ummm…” Draco racked his brain for an explanation that would appease the surly man who was now cocking an eyebrow at him. “My apologies, sir. As you know, I have been dealing with withdrawal symptoms recently. I was struggling last night, but did not wish for anyone to witness my weakness, so I began walking the grounds by myself. Eventually I came upon the old groundskeeper’s cabin. I broke in and fell asleep on the bed. The absence of Zabini’s incessant snoring allowed me to sleep much longer than normal. I apologize, professor.”
Snape’s eyebrow rose higher, but he mercifully did not question Draco further. “I hope this step will not have a negative effect on your progress. The Dark Lord has been very impressed with you so far, and given your family connections and aptitude for Occlumency and Legilimancy, it should come as no surprise to you that there is already talk of where you can serve most effectively when you graduate.”
“No, sir. I am aware of my place in the Dark Lord’s plans. I will do my duty.”
“Alright then. Let us resume our training. Would you prefer to begin with Legilimency or Occlumency?”