Fic: No Hiding Place book Two: The Great Hall (1/14)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Two: The Great Hall (1/14)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Two: -Voldemort has a plan. To make it work, he needs his most loyal Death Eaters and their progeny. After a vicious attack, two Slytherins must decide if blood is thicker than potions.
Warning: This book contains some mild torture, violence and the death of a minor character as well as more emotional angst.

The same deal here as with book one. One part posted every other day (unless I have a damn good reason to skip a day or something). Written before PoA (the movie) came out. Not spoiling anyone about the deaths unless someone asks.

BOOK TWO
The Great Hall

Part 1

Spring had always been Draco Malfoy's favorite season.

He didn't know why; all logic would suggest the opposite. After all, he did enjoy the dark of autumn, then Yuletide. The first half of the schoolyear was shorter than the second. Most of his Slytherin housemates had their birthdays in autumn, so it was a time for parties and goodies.

But there was something about springtime that usually made him feel good. Snorting at the idiot nature lovers, he refused to even think that it was the way the whole world seemed to be full of life, green leaves blooming on trees. It was probably the fact that he wouldn't freeze his arse off flying.

This year, he should have loved the spring. So many things were finally either ending or beginning. There would be no more school after this year. He'd finally be rid of Hogwarts, ready to embrace his future. It was just a couple of months until his eighteenth birthday and his father was finally trusting him with some of the Dark Lord's plans.

Draco had spent most his time trying not to worry about feeling a bit off; telling himself it was only natural. He was leaving his childhood behind, facing adult responsibilities. Things would be changing. His father already had plans for him. His future.

After proving his loyalty to Voldemort, he was to marry a pureblood girl -- probably either Millicent or Pansy, a choice that definitely depressed him -- and then spend his life serving his Master while his wife gave birth to the next generation of Malfoys. He would stand side by side with his father, ruling the wizarding world under Voldemort's banner.

Thinking about it made Draco nauseous. His perfect life had never felt less perfect.

His father had sent him an owl this morning. That wasn't unusual, but the contents of the letter were. Draco had read the letter twice before really understanding what his father was trying to tell him.

It had been quite clear when he'd finally managed to shake off his disbelief. His father had warned him about things to come, giving him certain dates; places he should avoid, days when he would need a good alibi. Things his friends would do, and to which he shouldn't be connected to.

Draco had spent a few hours before dinner trying to decide what to do with the knowledge he had.

He was glad of the free afternoon. Instead of spending his time off in the Slytherin common room, he'd hidden here in the library. Seeing his housemates would be too hard right now. He couldn't help wondering how many others had received mail from their families this morning. How many had received instructions for the upcoming battles.

Everything had always pointed in this direction; his upbringing, the fact that he happened to be yearmates with Harry Potter. His part in the fight had been clear ever since the Dark Lord had returned.

One day soon he would be called to battle against Potter and Weasley and their mudblood and Muggle-loving friends. He'd be drawn to the other dark figures wearing masks.

He was quite certain he'd rather turn his own wand on himself and end it all.

Draco heard someone laugh at the other end of the reading area. He didn't even have to look up to see who was making such noise. The sound was a familiar one, followed by another, deeper sound of chuckles. Granger and Weasley, probably accompanied by the boy who had the one thing he didn't. Freedom.

It was incredible how mad that sound made him.

Didn't these people know? Didn't they understand everything was racing towards a very ugly end? If they had seen what his father had written, they would be crying.

Like a part of him wanted to. But he couldn't. It simply wasn't what a Malfoy did.

The thought made him sneer at himself. No. A Malfoy wouldn't be human enough to show any weaknesses like that. A Malfoy would simply tremble before his Master and then obey any insane orders he was given.

He'd never felt such confusing emotions before, but his father's plans terrified him. Everyone at Hogwarts would get to know real pain and fear. There would be no great last battle. Only small, precise attacks on people no one really counted on, but who were vital to the ones Voldemort concentrated on.

That had been a shock to Draco. He'd assumed, as everyone else did, that the Dark Lord and his followers would attack Hogwarts in a couple of months. It was logical. One final battle between almost equal opponents.

The outcome of such a fight would have been impossible to predict.

Ignoring the noise the Gryffindor trio was making, Draco contemplated his options. He didn't have anything tangible. A few outlines of the plan. It could be real, or it could be a test. To see how he would react.

A test he would pass with flying colors, for he didn't dare to do anything. No one would believe him anyway.

Nothing he could do. Draco smiled cynically. To hold so much power, and still be so damn weak. It was almost inconceivable.

Collecting his bag, he got to his feet. It was almost dinner time. His duty was to make an appearance with the other Slytherins. He would be the one the others would look up to. His father had made it perfectly clear.

He would have an important role in the plan. The Death Eater progeny would follow his lead.

Draco could see the irony in that; to be forced to take such an active role in something he detested was indeed poetic justice. He'd pay for the sins of his father.

Lost inside his gloomy thoughts, he didn't notice the Gryffindors walking towards the door.

"Hey!" Ron Weasley's offended huff brought him out of his reverie. "Watch where you're going."

Looking up at the redhead who'd managed to walk straight into him, Draco felt all his anger gather like a storm inside him. "If you don't want to be squashed like a bug, don't act like one, Weasel." At least this was an enemy he could fight against.

Harry and Hermione hovered behind Ron. Hermione obviously wanted to leave, to simply walk away from the Slytherin menace and show everyone she had grown as a person. The expression on Harry's face was peculiar. He stared at Malfoy, looking puzzled. As if wondering whether he should laugh at him or curse him.

"Bastard." Grounding it out, Ron squeezed his hand in a fist. He'd not let Malfoy treat him like filth anymore.

The simple word made Draco react in an unexpected way. Instead of sneering yet another insult at Weasley, he smiled an open smile. "I wish." Life would be so much easier if he wasn't who he was. Being a bastard son of Lucius would be so much better. At least then he wouldn't have to uphold family traditions like a good son.

Ron saw the condescending smile spread on the hated face, and swung his arm. Seeing his fist connect with Malfoy's face was surprisingly satisfying. The Slytherin was thrown back by the strength of the punch, flailing to regain his balance. Then he fell down on the ground.

He didn't stop smiling.

Hand on his cheek, Draco stared up. It was clear that Weasley was enraged, his face flushed with an interesting shade of pink that clashed with his hair. The sight made Draco's mouth twitch. This was so stupid. So futile to snipe at each other, to keep up the old game.

"What the hell are you smiling at?" Ron growled at the grinning Malfoy. He could feel his anger burn even brighter as the git just kept sitting there.

Draco felt the smile drain from his face. It had once been a perfect opening for even more insults, but not now. He knew exactly what he was staring at, even though he was probably only one of two people at Hogwarts with that knowledge. "A dead man, Weasley. I'm smiling at a dead man." They were all dead, all future victims of the Dark Lord.

"You..." Eyes blazing with rage, Ron stepped closer to him. Malfoy was going too far. He was definitely going to kick his sorry arse this time!

To everyone's surprise, it was Harry and not Hermione, who grabbed Ron's arm. "Don't. Leave him alone." Harry's gaze was on Malfoy. There was something hauntingly familiar in the blond's eyes. Like a reflection of the weariness he sometimes felt.

Ron stared at his best friend for a moment, as if to see if he was serious. When Harry didn't waver, he growled out something, and then rushed out of the library. Looking worried, Hermione followed him.

"You'd better go to see Madam Pomfrey." Harry watched Malfoy climb to his feet. "You're bleeding." It wasn't that bad, but there was crimson liquid trickling down Malfoy's nose.

The look in the grey eyes was cold as a midwinter's breeze. "Go to hell, Potter." Grabbing his bag, Draco walked out, not paying any attention to the group of third years who were standing at the door, staring at him and whispering loudly.

Harry shook his head slowly. "I probably will."

Trailing Ron and Hermione to the Gryffindor tower, he couldn't help thinking about the absolute desperation he'd seen in Malfoy. It wasn't all that hard to figure out why his nemesis was looking harried these days.

By some miracle, the winter had passed without any traces of Voldemort's final attacks. At first, Harry had been even more stressed because of it, making his way down to the dungeons mind heavy with doubts and fears. There had been frequent Order meetings, where he'd hidden his true emotions and spent hours talking to the others, trying to figure out different plans to counter any possible attack.

The third week of February had been the most stressful. Then things had started to go better. Harry didn't know why. Nothing special had happened. It just felt like maybe there was a way to survive this after all.

Harry stepped through the doorway, smiling at the Fat Lady. That was something that had changed as well. He didn't have to force smiles these days. They were back, reminding him of a more carefree time.

Seeing Ron and Hermione bicker by the fireplace only widened his smile. Some of his lightened mood was undoubtedly due to his friends.

"I don't care if he's right or not. He's a bloody Death Eater, and you know it!" Ron was still seething with anger, his friend's soft words only annoying him further.

For a second, Harry stood still, words of denial raising to his lips. There was only one person at Hogwarts who had once been one of Voldemort's servants, and he wasn't one anymore. Then he realized they weren't talking about Snape.

Hermione looked doubtful. "We couldn't find any traces of a Dark Mark..." Noticing the way Ron glared, she sighed, "All right. Let's say for a moment Malfoy is a Death Eater. Wouldn't he try to do something worse than call you names then? And wouldn't it be more reasonable for us not to aggravate him if he's joined Voldemort already?" They were the only three people in the common room -- the others probably at dinner already -- but out of habit, the last bit came out as a whisper.

"I'm not going to start tiptoeing around the Slytherin scum!" Ron didn't even know why the whole thing was making him so irate.

"I'm not asking you to." Honestly, some days she wondered if he'd ever grow up. "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't let him goad you into a fight."

Ron grunted. He didn't agree with Hermione. If the bloody ferret kept annoying him, he'd punch him again. And again, until he stopped sneering at him. "Whatever."

Seeing her words had been completely futile, Hermione sighed, "Let's go and get something to eat." With luck, Malfoy would be in the hospital wing, and they could manage the rest of the evening without incidents.

---

Comments

[garish-light04.livejournal.com]

I feel so insanely bad for Draco, and I often find his character to be unsympathetic sometimes. He can be portrayed as such an arrogant little twat sometimes-it's interesting to see his outward appearance, and yet also see the internal gears moving. Lovely characetization. And I wonder what Lucius was warning Draco about? Must be in the next chapter. =)

--GL

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

I really like writing Draco, because he feels so complex even though his canon character seems rather simple. His situation is awful; realizing that all the things he's taught may not be right after all but finding no way out. Poor chap.

You'll have to keep wondering for a while longer. :D There'll be just a bit more background stuff before the plot really starts to roll...

[lyr]

You have an interesting take on Draco here. And I have to say, if anything could make joining the dark side look really bad, it's the idea of being forced to choose between Pansy and Millicent to marry.

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

*hysterics*

Oh yeah, that would be a real incentive to join the Order. :D

Poor Draco. It's not easy being a Malfoy.