Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Lord Voldemort
Genres:
Action Mystery
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban
Stats:
Published: 06/12/2003
Updated: 07/28/2003
Words: 7,605
Chapters: 2
Hits: 2,092

An Alliance of Necessity

Aenea

Story Summary:
AU: Fourth Year. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Draco are plagued by mysterious dreams of events decades past... an alliance of necessity must be formed if the truth of Grindelwald's reign is to be revealed.

Chapter 01

Posted:
06/12/2003
Hits:
1,306
Author's Note:
This story is dedicated to my sister, Night's Mistress, for making me finish it.

The tree branches whipped furiously at her, cutting her face and bruising her body as she ran. Her breath caught sharply with every step yet she couldn't stop. Not while they were still after her. Caution thrown to the wind, she ran around the corner, blinded by the pouring rain, and found herself on the edge of a sharp drop. She caught herself, teetering precariously on the edge when she heard something.

A footstep behind her. She turned slowly, dreading what she would see.

"Come here girl," a voice rasped from deep within the coat. The woman shuddered, then glanced briefly over the edge of the cliff. The fall would surely kill her, but anything was better than the fate that awaited her if she joined them. A fierce determination lit in her eyes and, without a moment's hesitation, she threw herself off the precipice...

Draco Malfoy awoke with a start, cold sweat drenching his body. He looked around the familiar surroundings of his room at home, breathing heavily as he searched for reassurance that what he had just seen was just a figment of his imagination. After a minute of gazing aimlessly at familiar objects his breathing calmed, and he ran a long, slender hand through his light blonde hair, inwardly cringing at it's disarray. He threw back the bedcovers and pulled a leather-bound book out from under his mattress. Draco leafed through it until he reached a blank page, and then lifted his quill.

'The dream again. It's longer now, clearer. I still don't know what it means...'

Draco chewed on his quill for a second, indecisive, then added:

'Probably has something to do with Potter. Stupid git.'

He closed the book again, ignoring similar entries over the past few weeks. He pushed it back under the mattress and went back to sleep, hoping desperately for normal dreams, ones in which he wasn't female...or running for his life.

*

On the other side of the country, in a comfortable two-storey house, a teenage girl with rather bushy hair sat on her own bed, oblivious to the events in the Malfoy Manor. Hermione Granger stared out the window at the clear night outside, her face thoughtful. She reached absently for her own diary, allowing it to spill open on her lap. She lifted a quill and sucked on it as she read.

'I've been having these strange dreams lately. Sometimes they're not very clear, and other times they seem as real as when I'm awake. In the dreams I'm always running, but sometimes I'm being chased and other times I'm the chaser. It's always raining. I wonder what it could mean...'

Hermione pulled the quill out of her mouth, surprised by how good it tasted. Realisation dawned, and she ate the rest of the Sugar Quill as she looked for her actual quill. Finding it, she dipped the end in her inkbottle and paused, her hand poised above the blank page. A droplet of ink budded and dripped, spilling onto the page, shaking Hermione out of her reverie. She frowned at the stain, which seemed to spread across the page just to spite her, and then began to write.

'I was the chaser in the dream this time. It was the clearest it's ever been. I was chasing someone- I think it was a woman- through a forest. It was stormy outside, but I could hear her breathing. We'd obviously been running for a while, and I was getting tired. Then I caught her. She was standing on the edge of a cliff, and I swear if the wind was any stronger she would have been blown right over the edge. Then I spoke. Well, it wasn't really me; it was the thing I inhabited, whatever it was. Anyway, it spoke in this voice that sent chills up my spine. There was no emotion in that hoarse voice, none at all. It makes me cold just thinking about it. Anyway, I said, "Come here girl." The woman just stared at me, then threw herself off the cliff. I was shocked- so shocked I woke up. I've never seen that in the dream before, just the running. It must mean something; it's been recurring all holidays. I want to go back to school so I can do some research in the library...'

There was a sharp tapping sound at the window, causing Hermione to stop writing. The tapping increased in volume. She dropped the quill in the inkbottle and walked over to the window. It opened quietly, for which Hermione was thankful. She wasn't looking forward to explaining why she was up at this hour to her parents. Something fell inside, something that looked like a dirty old dishrag. It hooted mournfully from the floor.

"Oh, Errol," Hermione whispered, lifting the owl gently off the floor. She laid him on her table and teased the letters out of its beak. Errol nipped lamely at her fingers and she smiled at him. Then she carried the letters over to her lamp and switched it on. A dim light permeated the room, exposing the god-awful mess Hermione had created in the week that she'd been home. It had been a Herculean effort to get it this bad this fast, and she was somewhat proud of herself.

"Ron and Ginny," Hermione read excitedly. "Thanks Errol!" She tore the letters open, throwing the ripped envelopes onto the floor where they joined the rest of the potential fire hazard Hermione called the floor. She opened the envelope covered in Ron's barely legible scrawl first.

'Dear Hermione,

How've your holidays been? Read any good books lately? Mum says me and Ginny-'

Hermione snorted. "Me and Ginny? Honestly Ron, I would have hoped your grammar had improved," she admonished quietly. Errol cocked his head to one side and looked at her. Hermione just shrugged at him, and turned back to the letter.

'-can invite someone over for the rest of the holidays each. I wanted to invite both Harry and you and was really worried that one of you wouldn't be able to come, but Ginny said that she was going to invite you anyway, so it's all good. Let me know when you can get here, okay? There's something I need to talk to you and Harry about.

From,

Ron'

Hermione finished the letter and folded it carefully. She placed it on her desk (which had somehow escaped from the deluge of things Hermione had brought home) and unfolded Ginny's letter. Her neat writing contrasted drastically with that of her brother's.

'Dear Hermione,

Ron's probably already told you but Mum said we could invite one person over the rest of the holidays each. Ron was telling me that I had to invite you, or he'd kill me. I thought that was a bit harsh, but you know Ron. Like I'd invite anyone else anyway. Honestly Hermione, sometimes my brother is so stupid. Though I guess you already knew that...'

Hermione snorted, then kept reading.

'Anyway, you'd better come, or I'll be even more swamped with boys...well, more swamped than usual anyway. You have to come...there's something I need to talk to you about. Oh, I better go, Fred and George using Pigwidgeon as a snitch and Ron's going psycho. See you soon!

Love,

Ginny'

Hermione folded Ginny's letter and placed it on top of Ron's, then turned to Errol, who hooted softly to himself.

"Could you wait until tomorrow so I can send Ron and Ginny a reply?" she asked, then wondered what her old friends from before she'd found out she was a witch would think of her now. Talking to owls in the middle of the night. Hermione smiled ruefully. Errol hooted softly and curled up on the desk. Hermione watched him for a moment, then climbed back into bed. She'd ask her parents in the morning.

*

The next morning Draco wandered aimlessly around the Manor house, deep in thought. His ice blue eyes looked pensively out the window, flicking over the familiar landscape. He heard a voice behind him and jumped. His parents stood behind him. His mother frowned at him, her pretty face worried. His father had the same irritatingly aloof expression he always had. Draco squashed the urge to mimic him, deciding that pushing his father's temper wasn't really a stroke of genius.

"Are you alright Draco?" his mother asked in a gentle voice, her mouth crimped with worry. Lucius Malfoy glared at her, unexpectedly angry. Draco looked up at him, suddenly anxious. Looks like he didn't need to push his father's temper, his mother was perfectly capable of that on her own.

"You smother the boy," Lucius said coldly, making his idea of good parenting blatantly obvious. Narcissa spun on her heel, her hands shaking with fury. Draco sighed in boredom. It wasn't like they'd never said it all before. They argued for a few minutes, and he mouthed along with the words, performing a startling good imitation of his parents.

"You'll make him too dependent," Lucius spat angrily, slamming the end of his wand on the table for emphasis. Draco stopped mimicking his parents- it was getting boring...and they were both watching him. He schooled his face to give away nothing.

"At least he knows I care about him, not like you!" Narcissa shot back. Lucius turned on her, his face furious. Draco listened resignedly for a moment, then turned away and ignored them completely. He started to head for the door. Narcissa noticed him leaving and stopped fighting long enough to say

"Where are you going Draco?" Draco waved his hand at her dismissively, a gesture that sharply reminded Narcissa of Lucius. She flinched.

"Outside. Somewhere. Anywhere. Nowhere," he said absently before leaving the room. Narcissa turned on Lucius and began blaming him for their son's recent preoccupations. Lucius blamed her in return, and Draco hurried to as far away as he could get.

He wandered for a while, and then found himself gravitating to the west wing attics. He frowned, then shrugged and pulled open the heavy oak door. It opened noiselessly- quite an accomplishment.

"At least the house elves are working properly," Draco muttered as he entered the musty room. Piles upon piles of junk greeted him, and he shook his head.

"What am I doing here?" he asked himself, not really expecting enlightenment.

"Would master like a drink?" piped up a small voice from the corner. Draco glared at it.

"No, master would not like a drink. Master would like some privacy," Draco spat. The house elf (Draco didn't know it's name, nor did he want to) let out a squeak and sped away, leaving Draco by himself. Draco smiled and delved deeper into the attic. You never knew what kinds of things you could discover here. Draco ignored the dust, heading for the bookcases.

*

"What have I told you about that bloody bird?!" boomed the voice of Vernon Dursley from 4 Privet Drive. Harry sighed in resignation. 'Here we go again...' he thought. His eyes flicked to the nearby chair, wondering if sitting down for the lecture would just irritate his uncle further. Probably. Dammit.

"She's tired, that's all," explained Harry in a placating voice. His uncle, however, did not want to be placated. He'd much rather yell at Harry some more. Harry sighed, waiting. 'This is getting dreadfully repetitive,' he thought tiredly.

"Either you leave that bird outside, or it stays in the cage!" demanded Uncle Vernon. Harry's cousin, Dudley, snickered at Harry through a mouthful of food. They'd eaten dinner hours ago, but Dudley was having a "night time snack" of a hamburger so he could "sleep better". Harry shot Dudley a glare (causing Dudley to whimper in fright and a self-satisfied smile to cross Harry's face), then gathered up the snowy owl.

"And I don't want to see it again!" yelled Vernon, his face growing purple. Images of him suffering an embolism right there flew into Harry's mind, and he snorted.

"You really should calm down. This kind of stress can't be good for your arteries," Harry said quickly before running out of the room. He carried Hedwig up the stairs, ignoring Vernon's apoplectic splutters, and into his room, shutting the door tightly behind him. Hedwig nipped playfully at his fingers, and Harry finally noticed the letter attached to her leg.

"Who's that from?" he asked, more to himself than to the bird. He teased apart the string curiously. It was too soon to be a letter from Sirius. Harry glanced at the envelope, recognising the writing instantly.

"Ron!" he exclaimed, ripping the envelope. Hedwig climbed into her cage and promptly fell asleep on her perch. Harry unfolded the letter and read it eagerly.

'Dear Harry,

How are you? Are the Dursleys actually feeding you these holidays? If not, let me know, we could stage another daring nighttime rescue, just like old times.'

Harry laughed, and then continued to read.

'Hopefully that Aunt of your isn't staying, I doubt you could get away with blowing her up twice...though it must be tempting to find out...

I am writing to you for a reason though- other than wasting all my parchment so I don't have to write that stupid potions essay. I'm inviting you to the Burrow for the rest of the holidays- Mum said that Ginny could invite someone too, but I think she just didn't like the thought of you being all by yourself with those...people you live with. Ginny's inviting Hermione, we're waiting for her to reply. Send an answer back with Hedwig pronto. Don't bother asking the muggles, you're staying here no matter what. There's something I need to talk to you and Hermione about. See you soon.

From,

Ron'

Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill eagerly, scrawling his reply straight away.

'Dear Ron,

This might take a while getting to you, Hedwig's very tired (I sent a letter to Sirius, and she was gone for ages.) I can't wait to stay at your house, come get me as soon as possible. What did you want to talk to me about? Oh, don't worry you can just tell me when you get there. Maybe I'll be able to get some sleep, I've been having the strangest dreams lately. I'll tell you about them later. See you soon.

Your friend,

Harry'

Having finished, Harry yawned widely and glanced out the window. It was getting late, and he was exhausted. He decided to let Hedwig sleep; she could deliver Ron the letter the next day. After brushing his teeth in the bathroom, he glanced at his reflection. A skinny, short fourteen year old with emerald green eyes and messy black hair stared back at him. 'Not exactly the stereotype of the hero,' he thought to himself as he climbed into bed tiredly. He lay his glasses down on the bedside table and promptly fell asleep.

*

Hermione woke early the next morning, but wasn't the slightest bit tired despite having been awake most of the night. She showered and pulled her wet hair back so it wouldn't soak her shirt. Having made herself remotely presentable, she plastered a cheery smile on her face and walked downstairs to breakfast. Her parents were already there, her mother drinking coffee and her father munching on toast. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Oh, good morning sweetheart," her mother greeted her. "Did you sleep well?" Hermione nodded quickly, then took a deep breath. 'Just come right out with it,' she thought.

"Ginny's invited me to stay at her house for the holidays, and I was wondering if I could go," she said, then waited anxiously for the answer. Her mother and father exchanged looks. Hermione waited on bated breath.

"I don't know honey," her father started. Hermione exhaled sharply, her face falling. "It's just that...well, you spend all your time at school, we hardly ever see you," he finished quickly, turning to his wife for support.

"Your father has a point dear, you don't even come home for Christmas any more. We never get to see you...you're growing up without us," she added. Hermione looked up apologetically.

"I know I don't spend as much time at home as I used to, but...well, it's Harry. He can't really go back to the Dursleys and I'd feel terrible if I was here with you, having a great Christmas, and he was all by himself at school," she explained. Her parents sighed and Hermione knew she'd scored. 'Hermione: one, Parents: zero,' she thought to herself, then reflected on how much of an influence Harry and Ron had on her.

"Well...I suppose you have been here nearly all holidays..." her father started hesitantly. Hermione smiled angelically. A halo appeared around her head- witches take looking angelic a bit far. Fortunately she stopped before she sprouted wings.

"And you do write frequently..." her mother added slowly. Hermione turned her smile on her mother. She blinked at the halo, and it disappeared- Hermione thought that perhaps it was a bit excessive. The smile stayed though.

"So...yes, you can go," her father finished. Hermione grinned broadly and tried not to punch the air. Instead she hugged her mother and kissed her father on the cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed before rushing back upstairs. Her parents looked at each other.

"Did she even eat anything?" her mother asked, worried. She regularly voiced the opinion that her daughter was too thin. It didn't matter how big Hermione actually was, she would always be "too thin."

"I expect she'll eat something later...when she figures out that she's hungry," answered Hermione's father, finishing his toast.

Upstairs in her room Hermione grabbed a piece of parchment so harshly it almost tore. She grabbed her quill (making sure it was a real quill this time), and almost knocked over the inkbottle in her excitement. She dipped it into the bottle and began to write.

'Dear Ron and Ginny,

Mum and Dad said I could go- they were a bit reluctant because I haven't been home much lately, which I feel slightly guilty about, but eventually they broke down. Being an only child does have its benefits after all...

I can probably get there sometime tomorrow; I'll travel by Floo Powder. See you soon.

Love,

Hermione'

Hermione read through the letter, and then folded it carefully. She gently nudged Errol awake and tied the letter firmly to his leg. Errol hooted softly, and Hermione patted his head. Then she lifted him carefully, carried him to the window and released him. Errol fell for a minute, then spread his wings and flapped away. Hermione watched him go, and then turned back to her room. Her brown eyes surveyed the room, trying to figure out what she'd forgotten.

"Breakfast," she said, then dashed back downstairs.

*

Ginny ran down the stairs of the Burrow, almost tripping. She jumped down the last few stairs, landing heavily. Percy poked his head around the corner, his flaming red hair dishevelled.

"Do you think, perhaps, you could have been a little louder?" he asked sarcastically. Ginny just grinned and waved at him, then walked into the kitchen. Fred, George and Ron were already down there, eating breakfast.

"Morning all!" Ginny greeted them cheerfully. She sat down on the seat and began to eat the food on the plate her mother had placed in front of her.

"Morning," mumbled Fred around a mouthful of food. Mrs. Weasley glared at him, and he grinned at her, showing more of his half-eaten toast. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny grimaced.

"You're cheerful this morning," commented Ron dryly. Ginny smiled at him, pushing her long, red hair out of her face so she could eat without consuming any of her hair.

"Don't you remember? Hermione's coming today," Ginny said before shovelling a forkful of sausages into her mouth. She chewed it contentedly, spearing another piece with her fork.

"So?" asked Ron, confused. Ginny swallowed her mouthful of food hurriedly, making "wait, wait" gestures with her hand.

"So I wont be surrounded by boys anymore," she explained in a patronising voice. Ron glared at her, and George gave her a look of mock hurt.

"You mean...you don't like us?" he asked, pretending to sniffle. Ron snorted into his eggs.

"I thought...that you loved us..." added Fred, dejected. He looked at George, then they both burst into mock tears. Ron laughed, spraying half chewed sausage across the table. Ginny frowned at it in disgust.

"Gross Ron!" she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. Ron grinned at her, and Ginny laughed despite herself. She finished her breakfast and dumped her plate into the sink. It started to scrub itself immediately. Ginny ran back upstairs to get dressed.

*

Hermione hugged her parents tightly then pulled away. Her mother tried valiantly to conceal the tears in her eyes, then gave up and dabbed at them with a tissue.

"I'll write as much as I can," she promised before turning to the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the container Ron had sent her and tossed it onto the flames. They blazed green, and Hermione's father handed her the trunk and Crookshanks' cage. Hermione waved at them one last time, then walked into the fireplace, oblivious to her parents winces.

"The Burrow!" she shouted clearly, and disappeared.

She appeared in the Weasley's fireplace, a little dusty but otherwise fine. Her trunk managed to stand on its end for about two seconds, then fell to the floor with a thud. Hermione jumped. Mrs. Weasley turned at the noise and smiled at her.

"Oh good, Hermione dear, you arrived all right," she said, enveloping Hermione in a huge hug. Hermione hugged her back, then pulled away, her face confused.

"It's good to be here. Where's Ron and Ginny?" she asked, looking around at the seemingly empty house.

*

Ginny was pulling a brush through her hair roughly when she heard a familiar voice in the lounge.

"Hermione!" she called, dropping the brush on the table and running downstairs. Hermione, who had been trying to lift her trunk again, turned and grinned at her. The trunk surrendered to gravity again with a heavy thud. Ginny cringed.

"Ginny!" Hermione called back. They grinned at each other and Ginny ran over to her. They grinned at each other for a moment, and then Ginny frowned down at the trunk.

"Oh, here, I'll take that. You're staying in my room," Ginny said, grabbing Hermione's trunk. Hermione held up a hand, stopping Ginny in mid-sentence.

"Hang on a second, I'll just let Crookshanks outside," she said, carrying the cage to the door. She placed it on the ground and opened the door carefully. Crookshanks ran out of the cage and tore outside. Hermione had discovered fairly quickly that her cat didn't like Floo Powder. She stood up again and gestured up the stairs.

"Lead the way," she said. Ginny lead Hermione up the stairs and into her room. Hermione looked around the room, curious. It was painted a cream colour, with a purple trim. Ginny's own trunk full of her Hogwarts things sat open at the end of her bed, with several books spilling out onto the floor. Hermione wondered quickly what new subjects Ginny was taking. There were a few posters of some wizarding bands on the walls, and a small bedside table with a leather book on it. Hermione frowned at it.

"My diary. After getting over what happened with my last one, I kind of liked the idea of keeping one," Ginny explained. Hermione grinned at her and kicked open her trunk roughly. Her own diary tumbled out onto the floor. Ginny laughed, then pointed at another bed set up in the corner.

"That's your bed. I hope you like it," she said. Hermione walked over to it and sat on it. It bounced slightly and she smiled.

"Perfect." She grinned evilly. "You wanna jump?"

"Jump?" Ginny asked, frowning in confusion. Hermione grinned.

"You know, on the bed," Hermione explained. Ginny looked scandalised. "It's really fun," Hermione added. Ginny frowned at the bed dubiously.

"Okay, maybe later," Hermione relented. Ginny smiled in relief. Suddenly someone pounded on the door, making them both jump. Hermione giggled.

"Hermione? You in there?" Ron yelled through the door. Ginny clapped her hands over her mouth and ran to the door. She pulled it open and Ron nearly fell in. Hermione giggled, and Ron glared at her. Ginny backed away from him and sat on her own bed. Hermione remembered something and frowned suddenly.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, looking around. Ron snorted.

"Not in here, that's for sure," he joked. Hermione glared at him. "We're getting him right about...now, actually. Do you want to come?" Hermione glanced over at Ginny, who looked dejected. Obviously the invitation didn't extend to her. She remembered part of Ginny's letter and frowned indecisively. "There's something I need to talk to you about..." Hermione stopped frowning and smiled at Ron apologetically.

"I think I'll stay here. I want to talk to Ginny for a bit," she said. Ginny's face brightened and Ron glared at her. Ginny resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at him...for about three seconds. Ron sneered back at her.

"Fine. Well, I'll let you get settled in. See you later," he said. Hermione and Ginny both waved, and Ron left the room. Ginny shot Hermione a look of heartfelt thanks.

"Thanks," she said quickly. Hermione grinned.

"Couldn't have them leaving you behind. Anyway, you said you wanted to talk to me about something..." Hermione invited. Ginny's face darkened and she joined Hermione on her bed.

"Yeah..."

*

'It happened again last night...except it was different this time. I was in a room full of people, but I couldn't see any of their faces. They were all wearing these black cloaks, like father does sometimes when he meets people. And there was this one person; I think he was in charge or something. He was punishing one of the other people for something, I couldn't quite catch it. Something about failing to "capture the air" or whatever. I don't know, I couldn't hear it properly over the man's screams. Inconsiderate bastard. Then the man in charge, he sent people to "look for the girl. She'll lead us to the air." Or some rot like that. So all the people left the room in a hurry (not that I really blame them), and I woke up.

Still have no idea what it means. Was tempted to ask father about it, then decided that didn't have a death wish. '

-(Extract from the diary of Draco Malfoy)