A/N: I said I’d write my “End of the Line” songfic as a real fic. Well, here it is. I think it’s going to turn out to be in more than one part, because I keep getting more and more good ideas. This has a few teensy-tiny things different from the songfic, but that happens when you actually NEED details (as I didn’t in the songfic). Ron, Hermione, Draco, Voldemort and Dumbledore belong to J.K. Rowling, blabbity blah blah.
End of the Line (Part 1)
Ron was walking away from the library, where he had been with Hermione. He was feeling great, and walked with a spring in his step. He loved her, and he was pretty sure that she loved him, too.
A figure stepped out from behind him and sneered, “Weasley, I’m disappointed in you. Kissing a mudblood. Tsk tsk.”
“What do you care, Malfoy?”
“Just trying to help a fellow wizard friend,” Draco’s smirk looked even more evil as he said the last word.
“Go play hopscotch with a dragon.”
“Ooh, I’m hurt,” He paused, “Think of it, Weasley. You’re a pureblood. You should only associate with purebloods. Like me.”
Ron remained silent. Why was Malfoy being so nice to him? “Why do you want to ‘help’ me?”
“I need a reason?” Draco asked innocently.
Ron snapped back to his senses. “Look, Malfoy, even if you would have a reason, I don’t care.” He turned to walk away.
“That’s fine,” Draco hissed, “if you want her to die.”
Ron turned his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Oops, did I say that out loud?”
“You stay away from her,” Ron growled.
“Oh, of course. I’ll stay away from her, but I can’t guarantee that the Dark Lord won’t.”
“Voldemort?!” Ron shouted.
“I’ve said too much. See you in Potions tomorrow,” Malfoy said quickly and started walking away.
“MALFOY!” Ron bellowed. When Draco showed no sign of hearing him, Ron quickly removed his wand from his belt and shouted, “Muertus amus!”
Malfoy grinned and slowly turned around. He tightened his grip on his own wand, which was concealed underneath his robes. “Ron, Ron, Ron. I thought you would have known better. You’d think at least a little bit of your brothers’ smarts would have rubbed off on you. I guess not. Because if they had, you would have known that the correct spell is,” He raised his wand to a Ron who was gasping in horror, too shocked and scared to move, “Muertus armus!”
Draco felt himself thrown against the wall and then slipped down to the floor. The last thing he saw before the darkness enveloped him made him grin weakly in triumph. Ron Weasley was dead.
*~*~*~*
“Mr. Malfoy.”
Draco opened his eyes to see Dumbledore hovering over him. He squeezed them shut again and grabbed his throbbing head.
“Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore was stern and insistent this time. Draco forced himself to look at the headmaster. “I know you’re not in a good condition, but it is imperative that you tell me what happened between you and Mr. Weasley that night. You’re the only one who may know.”
Malfoy moaned. His head hurt. A lot. He forced himself to think. Oh yes, he was trying to win Weasley over to the Dark Side. The weakling refused and tried to kill him. Draco almost laughed in remembering that Weasley had said the wrong spell, and he had “corrected him.”
Draco realized he couldn’t tell Dumbledore what really happened. If Dumbledore would find out that Draco knew Ron had used the wrong spell and proceeded to kill him, he would be expelled for sure.
Draco decided that he’d say he was defending himself. Dumbledore would think him too weak to make anything up and wouldn’t bother to use a Truth Charm on him. Malfoy blinked rapidly a few times for emphasis, as if the lighting in the room was too much for him.
“Stay with me, Draco. I need to know what happened.”
Malfoy swallowed. “I… I can’t remember much… all I can remember was I felt this urgent need to defend myself. And then… then everything went black.” Dumbledore said nothing and stroked his beard. Draco was proud of himself for lying so convincingly.
“Are you sure that’s all you can remember?”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose I should let you rest now. I have things to attend to.” And Dumbledore was gone.
A/N: In this story, there’s going to be a bit of overlap, because I’m switching whose point of view it’s being told in. Well, not really, since it’s not in 1st person, but you know what I mean, right? This one’s a bit somber, unlike the first part. A bit short, too, but there’s more coming.
The usual: Hermione, Draco, Ron and Harry belong to J.K. Rowling.
End of the Line – Part 2
Hermione heard shouting coming from somewhere in a hall near the library. She couldn’t positively identify either of the voices, but wanted to know what was going on. She packed up her books, since it was getting late, anyway.
She tiptoed through the hall, towards the sound of the voices. Hermione thought that one voice sounded like Ron. She walked a bit faster. There was only one person who Ron would be yelling at that heatedly. Hermione broke into a run.
She rounded the corner and saw it. Draco Malfoy and Ron, her love, were sprawled on the floor. Draco looked like he had been thrown against the wall. Ron just lay there, lifeless.
Hermione took an unsteady step back, losing the grip on her books. “No…” She whispered. It had to be a bad dream. She had to have fallen asleep while studying. The scene in front of her couldn’t be true.
“NOOOOOOOOO!” Hermione fell to her knees next to Ron’s body, which was still and cold. She held his head in her lap, stroked his hair and sobbed. “Ron… no… you can’t… leave… me…” She wove the bright orange strands through her fingers. Her tears splashed on her skin and rolled onto Ron’s, but she knew he’d never feel that, or anything ever again.
After Hermione had sat in place so long that she couldn’t imagine what time it was, she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She slowly looked over to see Harry crouched down next to her.
“Oh, Harry!” She flung herself onto Harry and wept on his shoulder. “He’s dead,” She choked.
He held her close and whispered, “I know,” wishing it weren’t true. He stayed with her for a time that seemed like forever, but it didn’t matter.
Hermione had fallen asleep a while ago. He stayed with her as Ron and Draco were taken away. He stayed with her when she moaned and cried in her sleep. He stayed with her when he was fighting tears of his own. One of his best friends was dead, and the other was losing herself in his arms.
When Harry finally got up, it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He carried Hermione, who hadn’t awoke, but occasionally stirred, to her dorm. Her roommates weren’t there because they were at breakfast. He was glad for that because he didn’t want to be seen. He was a wreck.
Harry carefully set Hermione on her bed, as if she were a glass that might break. Not wanting to wake her, he padded out of the room and quietly closed the door. He didn’t know where he’d go or what he’d do.
He found himself alone in the Gryffindor common room. He sat on the floor, hugging his knees and gazing into the warm fireplace. He was wondering what happened, and what would happen. He didn’t have any clue about either.
A/N: Not much to say for this one, other than Ginny, Prof. Flitwick, Dumbledore, Ron, Fred and George belong to J.K. Rowling. Abner Hawthorne is my own twisted creation.
End of the Line – Part 3
Ginny Weasley was in charms class, her first class of the day, when Dumbledore appeared in the doorway. She thought to herself, What did Abner Hawthorne do now? Abner was always in trouble.
“Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, I need to see Miss Weasley,” The headmaster announced.
“Ginny?” Flitwick was surprised. “I’m sure she didn’t have anything to do with - ”
Dumbledore cut him off, “She’s not in trouble.” He motioned for Ginny to follow him out of the room and led her wordlessly to his office.
When Ginny returned to the office, she saw Fred and George already there. They had confused looks on their faces because for once they didn’t do anything bad (at least not recently).
Dumbledore sat down at his desk and folded his hands. “I’m sorry that I have to be the one to tell you this, but your brother Ron was killed last night.”
Ginny gasped and the twins’ jaws dropped. It couldn’t be true. Just last night the twins had seen him. Just last night they had played a cruel joke on him that they now regretted. Just last night he was alive.
“But… but… how?” George stuttered, still in shock. Ginny had her head buried in his arm and was sobbing like a madwoman. (Thank you Draca!)
“Last night he and young Mr. Malfoy,” Fred and George scowled at the mention of Malfoy, “had a chance meeting. Supposedly, Ron tried to attack Malfoy and he defended himself,” Dumbledore paused, “By the time Madame Pomfrey got to him it was too late for the countercurse to be performed. I’m so sorry.”
“Draco KILLED him? In defense? You PUNCH or KICK someone in defense. You don’t KILL someone!” Fred burst out.
“I know. It’s not right,” Dumbledore said, implying, “but it happened anyway, and we have to deal with it.”
The four sat in silence for a little while, if silence only means the absence of conversation. Ginny was weeping loudly and George was comforting his little sister in a tight embrace. Fred had his arms crossed and was glaring at an empty spot on the wall.
“I must leave, but you can stay here as long as you need to. You’re excused from classes, and you can even go home, if you want,” Dumbledore walked to the door, “Also, I, along with the rest of the staff, am here for you.” Then he stepped out.
Ginny looked up. “He’s gone.” George didn’t know whether she was talking about Ron or Dumbledore. He felt a single tear slip down his face. He nudged Ginny to get up and told his twin, “We’re going to the common room. No one else will be there for a while. You coming?”
“Not yet,” Fred said.
George walked out of the door with a comforting arm around Ginny. Fred knew he should be with his siblings, but he felt that what he was going to do was more important.
He cast a sly look at Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix and cooed, “Aren’t you a pretty bird? Yes, you’re a pretty bird. Pretty bird…” A/N: Help, help, animagi geese are after me and Draca! And Harry, Ron and Hermione didn’t do a darn thing about it! Harry was SLEEPING! I think I need a break after I finish this… yes… no more tree branches will come out of nowhere, practically pummeling me and Draca… I’M ONTO YOU RON WEASLEY! I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE UP TO! No more caffeinated water for me (Yes, you heard me right. Caffeinated water. Water Joe is really good!)… Okay, okay, yes, back to THIS fic… the plot starts getting good here… =) The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, as they always have. Also, spunky springs work! Get lots of white ones! (They’re like karma bracelets but cheaper and just spiffier!)
End of the Line – Part 4
Draco Malfoy laid in his bed in the hospital wing. He had almost fully recovered, and Madame Pomfrey wanted to get him out of there as soon as possible. The more strength he gained back, the more obnoxious and disrespectful he became. He was getting right back to his usual self.
He just started to doze off when a familiar voice shouted, “Hey, Draco!”
“Goyle, I was just about to fall asleep,” Draco muttered irritably.
“Sorry, but I heard something and wanted to see if you knew.”
“I don’t know anything that has happened lately. Dumbledore could resign,” Draco liked that idea, “and I wouldn’t know. Who would tell me?” He said exasperatedly.
“Oh. Yeah. Well, you would never guess what happened.”
“Apparently not. Mind TELLING me?”
“The Sorting Hat was stolen.”
“Oh,” Draco mumbled absently because he had been hoping the news would be something more interesting. He didn’t really care about that ratty old thing, anyway. “That’s all?”
“Well, er… yes.”
“Then get out of here, you shmuck! I need my sleep!”
Madame Pomfrey, hearing the commotion, had come into the room. “Mr. Goyle, what do you think you’re doing, working him up like that? He needs to rest! Out! Out!”
Goyle walked disgruntledly away from the wing. Fine, he thought, if his best friend didn’t want him around, he wouldn’t stay around. Goyle had had just about enough of Draco bossing him around. Now he wouldn’t be able to boss him around. He’d have to find someone else, like Crabbe.
Goyle scrunched up his nose. He didn’t even like Crabbe, despite the fact that the two of them were practically inseparable, as Draco’s sidekicks. Well, he wouldn’t be Draco’s sidekick anymore, or Crabbe’s fraternal twin.
Goyle stormed back to the common room, then it was up to his dorm. He looked around the room. It was a mess. Draco flung his stuff all over the room, since Crabbe and Goyle never complained. Well, not anymore, Goyle thought.
Goyle took out all of the stuff from underneath his own bed. He threw Draco’s socks on top of Draco’s bed, along with his books and some crumpled parchment. Hey, wait a minute, there’s something written on that parchment, Goyle observed. He straightened the parchment out and read it:
Hermione, I know you’ll never believe me… but I love you. I know you’ll think I’m crazy. Maybe I am. I don’t know
It stopped there. Draco must have decided not to finish it. Goyle simmered. Malfoy in love with a mudblood? What was wrong with him? He put the parchment in one of his drawers, for safekeeping. This could come in handy.
Goyle decided to look for some more discarded notes. He wondered why Draco didn’t just throw that note away, instead of letting it lay where Crabbe or Goyle could easily have found it. Oh well, his loss, Goyle thought.
He picked up a big heap of Draco’s robes, and saw something buried under them that he least expected to see. It was the Sorting Hat.
*~*~*~*
A/N2: Sorry that this part isn’t quite as well written as the other ones. But I had other things on my mind. Like Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew plotting my demise… and Draca’s… Oh dear, they’re going to get me for that… A/N: I kinda forced myself to write this, so I don’t think it’s as good as the first 3 parts. Parts 2 and 3 are my favorites so far. I’ve got a lot of ideas for this story, and it may end up being pretty long. But bear with me! I haven’t really written any other stories in installments, except the untitled story, but that’s different. Next part will be back to Draco. At least I think so. Sorry about the overlapping, but I think that makes this better. More explanation. Anyway, I’ve babbled enough for now, on with the show! Er, story. All the characters and stuff belong to the talented J.K. Rowling of course.
End of the Line – Part 5
Fred Weasley laughed to himself as he looked in the mirror. “Fred, old boy, you are a genius.”
He couldn’t get over how perfectly his plan worked. He smiled to himself as he remembered exactly how he had carried it out.
*~*~*~*
The Sorting Hat had seemed to call out to him, giving him the idea. He’d be rid of Draco Malfoy at last. He’d be able to do what his brother had failed to do in life. If only he could get to the hat – Fawkes, that darned phoenix, was in the way.
“Aren’t you a pretty bird? Yes, you’re a pretty bird. Pretty bird…” The phoenix was tilting its head down for Fred to pet. Just an inch further… “You’re the prettiest bird of them all. Yes, you are…” He slipped his hand just beyond the bird. Ha! Got it!
Fred clutched the ragged hat in his hands and made his exit, making sure to shut the door. Now all I have to do is get the invisibility cloak from Harry, he thought.
Everyone else was in their classes, so no one was in the dorms, except Harry and Hermione. They were the only ones who really knew what happened other than Fred and his siblings. Of course, there were rumors, but no one knew the real story because those who did weren’t quite willing to tell.
Fred was able to easily get to his dorm without getting caught with the hat. He hid it in one of his drawers, so no one would notice its presence, though it wouldn’t be there for very long.
He then had proceeded to Harry’s dorm, and Harry was just laying stomach-down on his bed. Harry’s fists were clenched in silent rage as he stared blankly into space. He’s mad. Maybe I could let him in on the plan, since he’d want to get Malfoy back, too. Fred shook his head. He didn’t want to get anyone else involved.
Fred stood in the doorway, watching Harry. Harry didn’t move at all; he just stayed frozen in the same position. Fred took this opportunity to reach into the room and grabbed the cloak, which had been flung carelessly about on Harry’s dresser. As soon as Fred had stolen the cloak, he was out of the room and back in the hallway, on his way to his own dorm. That’s where the cloak would stay until that night.
The rest of the day was hard for Fred to get through. His mind kept wandering to the fact that his brother was dead, and never coming back. He couldn’t quite grasp the concept. One concept that he could grasp, however, was that Draco Malfoy was to blame for Ron’s death, and he must be avenged.
Fred was lying awake in his bed that night when he decided that it was finally time to carry out his dirty deed. He pulled the cloak out from under his pillow, where he had cleverly hidden it. The room was pitch black, so George nor Fred’s other roommates could see what he was doing, and he was making sure that they couldn’t hear it, either.
As soon as he was fully concealed under the cloak, Fred softly treaded out of the room, Sorting Hat in hand, careful not to make the floorboards creak. It delighted him when Mrs. Norris looked around for him, but couldn’t see him anywhere when he was on his way to the Slytherin dorms. Since he had long ago memorized the Marauder’s Map, he knew a secret passage to the dorms.
He didn’t know which room was Draco’s, but he knew a surefire way to figure it out. He put his ear to each of the doors and listened for two sets of very loud snores. Sure enough, it worked, and he opened one of the doors to find Crabbe and Goyle sound asleep. They were in such deep sleep that Fred had no trouble burying the Sorting Hat under some robes that were strewn about. They had to have been Draco’s, because they were too small to be Crabbe’s or Goyle’s.
On the way back to the Gryffindor dorms, Fred was almost happy that Malfoy was sure to be expelled. He wished that there was more he could do to Draco, but he decided this would be enough, for now. A/N: I personally think that this is one of the best parts since Part 3 (which, of course, is only a second to Part 2). I guess this part isn’t really an explanation one like the last, but it’s one that just brings up more questions. Enjoy! J.K. Rowling’s crew belongs to, well, J.K. Rowling!
End of the Line – Part 6
Draco Malfoy had fully recovered and was finally up and about. As soon as he had gotten back to his normal routine, he found that he was swamped with homework that he didn’t even understand. Because of what happened, Dumbledore arranged for all the professors to have remedial classes. That was how he ended up in the Potions classroom with Hermione Granger, of all people.
“You’re not supposed to put the bat’s wings in yet!”
She drew her hand back from directly above the cauldron. “Oh,” She said distractedly, “Sorry.”
Hermione sighed.
“Focus on what you’re doing,” Draco scolded.
She cast him a withering look and put the next ingredient, the right one, into the potion. She was still upset, and really didn’t want to be around anyone, let alone Draco, the murderer. She knew that Draco hadn’t killed Ron in defense. Draco knew perfectly well that he could have shielded off the spell with a simple “allus rebersai.” Hermione knew that he loathed Ron just as much as she hated Draco, and she would never kill him if she were given the chance. Never.
Hermione looked at Draco. He definitely looks like a killer, she thought. Those cold eyes. His hard, pale face. Definitely the face of a killer.
“Stir it three times,” Hermione commanded the killer. She hated him at that moment more than she ever had in her life. In fact, she hated him then more than she hated anyone in her life.
Draco silently complied, swiftly sifting through the bubbling liquid. She hates me, he thought. I didn’t want to kill Ron. It wasn’t my choice. I wish I could tell her…
His thoughts were interrupted by Filch yelling, “Draco Malfoy! He’s the one who stole the Sorting Hat! Vincent Goyle told me!” Draco’s jaw dropped, and Hermione gasped, with the look on her face saying, Haven’t you done enough already? Draco hurried to scribble something on a scrap piece of parchment and then rolled it up, placing it in front of Hermione.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions so quickly,” Dumbledore’s voice was coming from around the corner and he then appeared in the doorway and beckoned to Draco, “Mr. Malfoy, would you please come with me?
*~*~*~*
Great. Now I’ve got to do this all by myself. Hermione mentally slapped herself. What are you saying? That you miss the little twerp? She shook her head.
“Last ingredient… Hog liver…” She mumbled aloud and plunked it into the cauldron. The potion was emitting a fine mist, and Hermione knew it was complete.
She eyed the parchment that she had shoved aside after Draco had left the room. He had hurriedly written it and pushed it towards her, so it must have been something important. Besides, he wouldn’t bother saying anything to her if it wasn’t important.
Why should I care what he has to say? He’s a murderer. By killing Ron, he said all that he needed to say – that he’s heartless. She fingered the parchment nervously. I wasn’t really there. I could have been, but I wasn’t. I don’t know what really happened… maybe… just maybe – no. There can’t be a good explanation for killing someone. Not a good real explanation.
Hermione slapped the parchment on the table. I should have been there. I should have stopped it from happening. If only I could have… The tears burnt in her eyes, …would have.
I can’t get hurt any more than I already am. What’s a little note going to do? Hermione wistfully concluded to herself, while unfurling the parchment.
I did NOT steal the Sorting Hat… Please believe me, Hermione…
Oh, great, just a plea for me to believe that he’s not guilty. Since Goyle was the one who squealed, Crabbe must think he did it, too. Why would he think that I, of all people, would believe him? Hermione thought, while forcing herself to read further.
* THUD! *
A/N2: I like saying “Thud”… just as not to confuse you, I’ll clarify that the “THUD!” was Hermi passing out. =) A/R: Sorry in the delay in writing this part. I had to take some time off, because the plot was really getting quite cliché (well, my PLANS for it). So, yesterday when I had been bummed about losing my money at Penn State (I lost 66 dollars… yes… I know… I suck), I was writing some depressing poetry, then decided to move on to this. Usually I write the parts all in one shot, hence the reason they’re part 1, 2, etc., but this one took me 3 days… and they weren’t even consecutive. So, umm… yeah. *Turns music up* Thunderstorm? What thunderstorm? All I hear is Powerman 5000…
End of the Line – Part 7
Professor Snape looked up from the tests he was grading just in time to see Hermione Granger’s knees buckle and her falling to the floor. He immediately ran over to her. Snape never really liked Miss Granger, the know-it-all, but he was the only one around.
He slapped her lightly in the face, slightly taking joy in what he had wanted to do for years, until she fluttered her eyelids and awoke. The professor took no time in shoving his fingers in front of the still drowsy girl’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Hermione struggled to keep her eyes open, but wasn’t looking at Professor Snape’s outstretched fingers. “Crystal ball…” She whispered.
Snape sighed. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Oh.” She said, finally comprehending his speech which had been nothing but gibberish until a few seconds ago, “You’re holding up three fingers.”
Snape took a quick look at his hand to make sure his fingers were actually doing what he had commanded of them. Yup, two fingers. “No. I’m only holding up two.” He shook his head. This can’t be good.
Hermione squinted for a second, then her face lightened up. “Oh! You shouldn’t have held your hand so close to your nose.” She was definitely wide-awake again.
“Since you seem to have recovered, I suppose a trip to Madame Pomfrey isn’t in order. Get back to work,” Snape snapped.
“Oh, I had finished the potion already,” Hermione was slowly getting up out of her seat, “So, I’ll be going now.”
Before Snape had a chance to say anything to her (though he probably wouldn’t have), the door had slammed and she was gone. Her work area was spotless as the professor surveyed it. His eyes then came to rest on an almost unrolled piece of parchment.
“What’s this?” He wondered aloud.
Professor Snape picked the parchment up and unfurled it, reasoning that since it was in his classroom, he had the right to read it. Had the owner passed the note in class, Snape would have confiscated and read it anyway. His eyes scanned the words on the paper.
I did NOT steal the Sorting Hat… Please believe me, Hermione…
Oh, so it’s a note from Malfoy to that Granger girl. As if she’s going to believe him, Snape thought, almost not bothering to read further until he saw the two words that Hermione had uttered before coming to her senses.
…Voldemort’s been speaking to me through the crystal ball in Divination class…
Snape gasped. “Not again,” he said aloud before rushing out of the room and into the hall. When he got to Dumbledore’s office, he threw the door open without so much as a knock. Dumbledore still had Draco Malfoy with him, and the two of them stared at Snape as if he were insane.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dumbledore roared.
“Albus! It… it’s happening… again!” Snape huffed.
“Calm down, Professor Snape,” Dumbledore, suddenly calm, soothed, “Now tell me, what’s happening again?”
“Exactly what happened six years ago.”
Dumbledore was silent for a moment. “No… It can’t be… Are you sure… that it’s what happened six years ago?”
Snape nodded.
A/R: I’m getting REALLY bored and fed up with this story. And once I finish it, NO SEQUELS (that’s sequels… with an E… NOT sequals)! Well, I may finish Hold Her Closer (refer to Saved Cut and Unfinished Works), but that’s all! I’m hoping 10 parts will be enough, or maybe even 9. So, maybe I only have one more part to write! Yay!
End of the Line – Part 8
“Wh-what happened six years ago?” Draco stammered.
Professor Snape looked at the boy, then to Dumbledore. “Is it okay to tell him?”
“He should know.” Dumbledore fingered the parchment that the professor had passed on to him. “I’ll explain it to him. You go assemble all of the students and teachers in the Great Hall. They’ll be safer that way.”
“Yes, sir,” Snape said as he hurried away.
Draco looked expectantly at Dumbledore. His eyes pleaded with the headmaster to tell the tale, but he dared not say a word. There was something about Dumbledore’s presence that did that to Draco.
“Six years ago,” Dumbledore started, “There was a 6th year student from Slytherin, not unlike yourself. His name was Matthias Stambach. He was in the first part of the Advanced Divination Class, and that was where Voldemort started to talk to him. He didn’t tell anyone because he was afraid of the consequences,” Dumbledore said, leaving unspoken the fact that Matthias was afraid of being killed by Voldemort.
“Then students started disappearing. After a while, it added up to 13 missing students – 5 Muggle-born, 5 half-blood and 3 purebloods. No one really knew what was going on because there was no real pattern in the disappearances. No one had any clue who, if anyone, was at the root of it.”
“So how was Matthias caught? How did you find out that it was him?” Draco inquired, getting quite interested in the story.
“One night Matthias left a note in my office. It explained that Voldemort was making him kill those students – the Muggle-born and half-bloods because they weren’t pureblood, and the purebloods because they would cause resistance to his return. I was so busy because of the disappearances, and I didn’t get the note until it was too late,” Dumbledore saw Draco’s eyes widen at the words ‘too late,’ “That night, Matthias went to the top of the Astronomy Tower and leapt to his death because he couldn’t take it anymore.”
Draco was stunned. He realized that the same thing could have happened to him and that he was lucky that Professor Snape had found the note and recognized what was going on.
“So, Mr. Malfoy, you should be glad that Professor Snape found the note that you had written to Miss Granger.” Dumbledore must have read Draco’s mind. “Otherwise, you may have suffered the same fate as Matthias Stambach.”
“Why haven’t I heard about this Matthias person until now?”
“When this happened, it terribly scared the staff and students here at Hogwarts. No one wanted to repeat the grisly tale.
“Grisly? There wasn’t anything ‘grisly’ about it. Or did you leave something out?” Draco demanded.
Dumbledore nodded. “You’re better off not knowing.” He didn’t wait for a response from Draco before adding, “You should go to the Great Hall with everyone else so you’ll be safe. Stay around one of the professors or Harry Potter. I’ll be there shortly.”
Draco scowled. Who really cared if Harry Potter was the only person other than Dumbledore that might be able to defend Hogwarts against Voldemort? Draco didn’t. He wouldn’t willingly hang around Harry Potter if his life depended on it – which it did.
A/N2: Yes, I know, I could’ve done better, but I’m so SICK OF THIS! BTW – Matthias Stambach is my own creation (as everything else is not; they belong to J.K. Rowling, of course), but he is based on a guy that haunts Hawk Mountain. I love my Ghost Stories of the Lehigh Valley book. =) A/R: Woo hoo! Finally, the long-awaited part 9! I think I’m almost done with it (I better be!). And there was much rejoicing! *waves a little flag* I’m really sorry that I ventured into the language of profanity, but it just didn’t sound right to me without that word. Anyway, there should be one or two more parts after this, and then I’ll be done! I’m trying to figure out a way to tie up all the loose ends, so that’s why it may be more than the original 10 parts that I had anticipated. Anyway, I think this part is pretty good. I love writing about characters just thinking about events and their lives instead of actually writing action (you may or may not have noticed that if you’ve read most of my stuff), and that’s a lot of what this part is. Enjoy! (Besides the plot, nothing in this belongs to me – it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.)
End of the Line – Part 9
Draco was in the Great Hall, surrounded by students from every house and every year. None of them knew what was going on, except Draco and Hermione.
Draco wondered if Hermione even believed him. She seemed disinterested when he gave her the note. He hoped with all of his being that she believed him.
Thinking of this, he started searching for her among the masses congregated in the room. Draco was frustrated when he couldn’t find her. There were just too many people milling about without any organization.
He sat down on the floor in a corner that was far away from everyone else. Sighing, he looked up at the enchanted ceiling. It offered a little bit of peace to his troubled soul. He wanted this whole ordeal to be over with. He didn’t want to be associated with You-Know-Who, but now, this incident was forever affixed in Hogwarts history.
Draco wondered what the future generations of Hogwarts students and teachers would think of him from hearing the story. Would they think of him as a terrible murderer, forgetting about the fact that Voldemort made him do it? Or would his tale become like that of Matthias Stambach, tragic and too frightening to tell?
Matthias Stambach. He had been through this before Draco. Draco wasn’t the first. He was just following in Matthias’s footsteps. Snape himself said it – “It’s happening again!”
Draco was always overshadowed by someone. In school, Hermione Granger was always better than him. At home, he was overshadowed by his father and his involvement in the Dark Arts. Draco was afraid that he would end up following in the footsteps of his father. He didn’t want to be a dark wizard, no matter how much it seemed like it to anyone.
“Excuse me?” The voice of a person that Draco didn’t know snapped him out of his state of self-pity. He looked up from his place on the floor to see a boy that seemed to be about his age. He was tall, but not quite as tall as Ron Weasley. Draco shuddered when he realized he was comparing this boy to Ron, even though that was the only trait he shared with the deceased. His hair was black, not the red of Ron’s. The boy’s eyes were green, almost like Harry Potter’s. Draco was ready to slap himself for the parallels that he was letting himself see.
“What do you want?” Draco finally responded.
The boy stepped back, almost in mock terror. “I just thought you might know what’s going on. I would ask someone else, but they’re all so… unapproachable. You know, the way everyone is in their own little group.”
“I don’t know anything.” Draco didn’t want to have to explain the ordeal to anyone, especially not this stranger.
“What was that?” The boy seemed to have not been able to hear Draco.
“I said, I don’t know anything,” Draco answered with annoyance.
“I can’t hear you. Why don’t we go somewhere else where we can actually hear each other talk? I don’t want to try to compete with the noise level in here.” The stranger didn’t even wait for a response from Draco and yanked him out of the room. They were in the hallway that led to the Great Hall. Draco was worried for his safety now that he was away from the group.
“Now we can talk.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you that I don’t know anything, so there’s no reason for us to talk. I’m going back into the Great Hall,” Draco replied angrily.
The boy grabbed Draco’s arm. “You’re staying right here.” He tightened his grip. “I’m going to talk, and you’re damn well going to listen.”
Draco was writhing in his grasp, trying to escape. The stranger had a death grip on his arm, and it was hopeless, but Draco still struggled. He had to get away.
The stranger whipped out a wand. “I said, you’re staying here.”
A/N: This part might be a bit confusing. There’s a lot of stuff I still haven’t quite explained. Some stuff in this part might strike you as odd, but I assure you, I will explain it. The next part will be an epilogue of sorts to do exactly that. As soon as I’ve posted this, I’ll be working on that. So, anyway, enjoy the [almost] conclusion of End of the Line. Disclaimer: None of the stuff in this belongs to me, except the plot.
End of the Line – Part 10
Hermione saw the whole thing. She saw the strange boy take Draco out of the Great Hall, and she was now watching him pointing his wand at a defenseless Draco. She didn’t know who the tall, black-haired boy was, but she did know that Draco needed help in getting away from him, and she was the only person that knew he did. She had to do something.
She was just about to get her wand out when she saw a sight that just stopped her dead in her tracks. The boy had turned into a man, right in front of her. She recognized him right away, and Draco seemed to recognize him, too, judging by the look on his face. With his grasp still firm on Draco’s arm, the man was talking to Draco. Hermione leaned in just a little closer to hear what he was saying.
“Since you told them about me, you have to die. You betrayed me. You betrayed your father.”
“What does he care?” Draco responded through gritted teeth. He then muttered, “What do you care?”
Voldemort heard him, though it seemed that he wasn’t supposed to. “You little brat. I’ll teach you to talk back to me. Crucio!”
Hermione saw Draco crumple to the ground and twitch uncontrollably. Voldemort didn’t seem to be planning to move his wand away anytime soon. His sick, evil laughter filled the hallway and penetrated Hermione’s eardrums. It was too much for her to take.
“Stupefy!” She shouted, as loudly as she could. She forced all of her energy, all of her being, into making that spell as powerful as she could.
Voldemort slammed into the wall and then lay still. The whole hallway was still. Draco had stopped convulsing. Hermione gripped her wand tightly and looked, almost in disbelief, at where the powerful Dark wizard lay.
She snapped out of her trance and strode confidently over to the unconscious murderer. She jammed her foot into his ribs. “That’s for Harry’s dad!” Planting another well-placed kick, she screamed, “And that’s for Harry’s mum! And this,” She stomped on his ugly nose, “is for my friends!”
After the last blow, she broke down crying, her tears running down her face in the same fashion as the blood streaming profusely from Voldemort’s nostrils. She knelt down on the floor and let the tears flow freely.
It was over. She cried, happy for the end. She cried, knowing that Ron was dead and she would never see him again.
“Granger?” Hermione heard a confused voice say. She turned around, remembering that Draco was there.
“Draco! You’re okay!” She exclaimed, running over and hugging him.
He shook her off. “Of course I am. It was the Cruciatus Curse. He didn’t try to kill me.”
“But, Draco, most people who survive the Cruciatus Curse go insane and wind up in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!”
He smirked mysteriously. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Hermione looked around uncomfortably. “We should get Dumbledore. Quickly.”
Draco shrugged, “Alright,” and walked away.
Hermione took one more look at the body that was still against the wall. “Stupefy!” She shouted once more, just to be safe.
Now, read the songfic that motivated Madd Spammer to write this fic!