Hogwarts Class of 2026

"Hogwarts Class of 2026"

+Malfoy Manor: South Wing: Library: Later+

"Please, Bray, just tell him how horrid an idea this is!" Roxanne pleaded as the three friends discussed Marsilio's idea.

Brayton raised his perfectly sculpted eyebrows in thought before replying, "But Roxanne, Marsilio has a point. Things could be a lot less confusing without everyone watching us."

She sighed loudly. "I can't say that I really expected you to agree with me."

"Why should I?" Brayton asked. "He makes a damn good point."

"What point, Brayton?" Roxanne demanded, throwing her hands up in obvious exasperation. "The only possible point that I can fathom is that this -- thing -- this plot can only make things messier."

"Oh, stop your foolish babbling Potter and help me look through mum's books," Marsilio said as he turned through a massive book that was so dusty that the slightest movement sent dust flying into the air.

"Am I the only sane person in this room?" she cried, frustrated.

"If sanity translates into annoying, I guess so," Brayton mumbled as he pulled an old Hogwarts Yearbook from a shelf.

Roxanne threw a glare at him, and said, "Go to hell, Bray, I agreed to help not agree."

"Can you agree to shut-up for half a second?" Brayton asked as he flipped through the yellowed pages of the yearbook.

Marsilio decided to speak up as he noticed the beginning of an argument between the two, "Calm down, Brayton, she's never going to agree just be thankful she's not leaving us to fend for ourselves. You know we couldn't understand half the crap in these books."

Brayton didn't even acknowledge his words. He just returned to flipping through the books slowly. "This book is from your granddad's Hogwarts days."

"Really? It's probably no help to us," Marsilio said as he handed the book he was holding to Roxanne.

Roxanne sat on a green ottoman near the fire and spoke softly, "Your mother is probably nearer than we think. Mum always said that men from her day thought with a mind much different from criminals of our day. We read in the Daily Prophet, every day, of kidnappers taking their victims to far off places in order to make the rescue search lengthy. However, a hardened criminal from mum's time would realize how the present Law Enforcement thinks."

By then Brayton and Marsilio both were listening with open minds, almost mesmerized by her easy logic. Marsilio blinked twice before asking, "Why'd you stop?"

"No reason, still thinking," she mumbled.

"Think faster," Marsilio urged impatiently.

"They think like the common criminal. If this criminal isn't common, if he's intelligent or better educated than we think he is, he could lead us in the wrong direction on purpose. So we can't underestimate him in the same matter he is probably underestimating the Aurors on this case," Roxanne finished enthusiastically.

"Yea, Dad did say that Uncle Harry thought that the criminal might have taken her to Porto - Novo or another place she fought at," Brayton said suddenly, struck with the same enthusiasm as his friend.

"Hmmm, dad's never too far off the mark. Hey, Malfoy did your mum ever keep a Journal of some kind?" Roxanne asked, looking over at the blond.

"I do not know but we could sure as hell find out," Marsilio replied, as he made his way back over to the shelves of books that covered the huge room.

+Meanwhile: East Wing: Parlor+

"Draco," Pansy whispered, getting his attention as she entered the room.

"Pansy, just the woman I needed," Draco sighed, trying to seem happy.

"How are you dear?" she asked, sitting next to him, removing the glass from his hand with love.

"Would you prefer the truth or a lie?" Draco asked reaching out for the glass full of his demons.

"Your truth could only be a lie, Draco, you're drinking again," she replied with patience and experience that few knew the former debutante had.

"She's tearing me to pieces again." He sighed drunkenly, mirroring Blaise Zabini's words from twenty years ago.

"Oh, Draco," was all Pansy could say.

"It's been years since her absence has eaten at me so," he mumbled, grabbing for the glass in Pansy's hand.

"It's been years since she was just a girl to you," Pansy whispered, gently wiping his hair from his forehead.

"How many times have you seen me hold my liquor but allow emotion to seep out between sips?" Draco laughed, taking another drink.

Pansy shook her head as she watched one of the strongest men in her life crumble, "Too many times, Draco."

"Do you think I'm a weak man, Pans?" Draco asked, calling her by the childhood name she hadn't heard in decades.

"Never weak, just not strong enough to live without your life," she whispered taking his hand.

"Do not you mean wife, Pans?" he asked, frowning up at her.

"No, I meant life."

Draco looked away from her blue eyes and into the brown liquid which threatened to poison him for a third time. "Is this really my life, again?"

"It is but it's not going to last much longer, dear, it can't," Pansy replied suppressing the urge to take the glass again but it would do no good.

"I'm not an emotional man, Pans," he mumbled.

"I know," she replied.

"How long can a man survive suicide?" he asked, looking at the glass again.

"You're talking nonsense, Draco," she scolded.

"I'm facing my demons again and I can't face them with dignity," he rambled trying to find depth in his words.

"No one can face demons with dignity, Draco. It's virtually impossible," she whispered, trying to soothe him.

"My father --" Draco started but Pansy cut him quickly.

"Do not, Draco, do not you dare compare yourself to him."

"Marsilio is more of a man than his father will ever be," Draco slurred, sitting the glass on the end table.

"Just as you were more of a man than Lucius," Pansy said, grasping his hand again.

"He loved her," Draco whispered as tears lined his eyes. "Probably more than I loved her and I can barely face him. His eyes haunt me, the pain behind him; the strength he fights to keep makes me envious. I am such a fool, I wallow in my pain, I drown my emotion in poison, and I leave my children to grieve. How could I?"

Pansy frowned at his words, she held back tears, whispering, "Draco, do not do this to yourself."

"Pansy, can't you see me? I'm forty-three years old and I can't find strength, dignity, or even integrity. Who is Draco Malfoy and when was he lost? Or was he just replaced by this idiot, shell of a man that stands before you and cries his pain into a glass?" he yelled as he threw the glass at the wall with loud groan.

"Draco!" Pansy screamed as the glass hit the wall, and she saw the depth of his pain for the first time.

"Do not love me, Pansy, I'm not worthy. I'm just filth, I can't even fight for my children," he cried as tears ran down his face and he lost all reserve.

"Come, Draco, you need to sleep," Pansy said, taking his arm.

"I can't sleep," he replied as she pulled him away from the couch.

"You have to sleep so pain can give way to forgiveness. It's about time you forgave yourself," she replied leading him out of the parlor.

+Just Outside of Yorkshire+

"Hello, beautiful," a voice whispered to Hermione.

Hermione looked around the cave, her captor was standing outside the cave and she could not find the source of the mysterious voice. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Have you missed me?" the voice asked softly, the sound making Hermione cringe.

"Who are you?" She trembled looking around the faintly lighted cave.

"Do not you worry your pretty little head about that, just do not forget me again."

"Where are you? Are you a ghost?" Hermione asked trying to figure out where this voice could be coming from.

The voice made a low gurgling sound, almost a chuckle. "No, my dear, I'm alive and I'm closer than you think."

"How close?" she asked squinting into the dark corners of the cave trying to sense another body.

The voice made the sound again. "Not physically, your subjugator cannot hear me, only you can hear me, my dear."

"H-how?" she whispered softly, the fear evident in her tone.

"Do not you worry about that. I'm sure you are wondering about your dear, dear, family?"

"How are they? How are my babies? And Draco? Oh, Merlin, how is my family?" Hermione begged, she ached for them so that she feared that it would kill her.

"They love you, beautiful. I cannot hurt you so as to say otherwise," the voice shuddered as it spoke.

"How is Marsilio? And Morgaine, Andreas, and Cillian?" she asked closing her eyes and envisioning every one of her children as she had last seen them.

"Hurt, crying, and grieving; none more so than your youngest and your daughter. One is asking for trouble and the other is confused; Cillian is keeping to himself and Andreas is angry. I think that anger is your fault since his name does mean war," the voice answered on key as if it had counted on her asking such questions.

Hermione fell out of her reverie. "How did you know that? How do you know all of this?"

"As I keep repeating, beautiful, do not you worry about that. I will keep you informed as long as you obey me," the voice replied.

"Obey you?" Hermione questioned allowed.

"Beautiful, you heard me."

"Stop calling me that!" she yelled, her voice echoing throughout the cave.

"Do you promise to obey me or do I have to make you do as I ask?" the voice demanded.

"Do not you dare threaten me!" Hermione replied defiantly, no voice was going to shake her up so that she would willingly give up her freewill.

"I see old habits die hard," it said more to itself than to Hermione.

"If you mean my resolve, I guess so," she sneered.

"Too many years with that Malfoy, I say."

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about," Hermione said angrily.

"I know more than you'd even imagine." The voice tried to laugh again and again it was that gurgling, choking sound that escaped.

"Miss Granger," Adelard said as he entered the cave, "I do hope you are not losing your mind."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the Frenchman. "How long do you think to keep me here?"

"Until I tire of your attitude and execute you properly," Adelard replied as he sat in front of the fire with a sigh.

"Execute me? Why? What have I done to -- "

Adelard cut her off mid-sentence as he raised the wand and whispered, "Crucio."

Her screams filled the cave as she squirmed on the cold, stone floor in more pain than many could imagine. He raised he wand again and whispered, "Paralice."

Hermione's body fell still on the cave floor, paralyzed, yet still stinging from the Crucio. The pain was so intense that she could not even shed a tear, she was thankful for the Parlice; she couldn't be tempted to move her sore body. She closed her eyes and attempted to fall into a haunted slumber.

+Malfoy Manor: South Wing: Library: Later+

Roxanne emitted a loud squeal as she fingered the very book they had spent the last six hours combing the extensive Malfoy Family Library for. It was red with 'Hermione Granger-Malfoy' written neatly in gold across the front. Yet, it was different, it didn't look like the Journal that Roxanne wrote in, it looked entirely real, in a way.

"Is that it, Roxanne?" Brayton asked as he looked over the book that his friend held excitedly.

"I think so," she replied, squealing again, this time catching Marsilio's attention.

"That's the one isn't it, Potter?" he asked walking over to her with a grin.

She nodded and held the book out for him. "Open it."

"No, you open it," Marsilio insisted, pushing it back toward her.

"How 'bout we all open it?" Brayton decided grabbing the book and sitting at the round table near the huge Bay window.

"Good idea, Bray," she said sitting near Brayton, Marsilio followed suit and sat near her.

Brayton opened the book to be surprised with Hermione's voice filling the room.

"I never knew," Marsilio whispered, the surprise very evident in his voice.

Roxanne closed the book, saying, "Then we shall return in the morning also, I think it's enough for tonight."