New Life, True Magic, and Death at the Door

Throughout his life, Draco Malfoy had been a bit of a troublemaker. Well, to say a bit would be, to say the least, a bit of an understatement. Scratch that. Next to Voldemort and his Death-Eaters, Draco Malfoy was probably one of the biggest troublemakers in the wizarding world. He had been a constant supply of dissonance at Hogwarts ever since his first year. And as the son of Lord Voldemort's most powerful supporter, Lucius Malfoy, he had seen more than his share of the Dark Arts in his short life. His own power could easily rival most of Lord Voldemort's Dark Wizard supporters. Draco could see only one problem looming in the future he had been raised to embrace. Draco had no desire to be evil.

He stood now just behind his father, Lucius Malfoy, who in turn stood at the right hand of the most powerful Dark Wizard in history, Lord Voldemort. Even though Draco's height now threatened to tower over his father, he still had to strain to see what was happening in front of them. As Draco made a spot for himself between his father and another Death-Eater, he saw what had been so fascinating at the center of their ring, and drew a sharp intake of breath as he recognized the beautiful creature who seemed to be the target of his father's wand.

She was neither tall nor short nor average, but her bearing made all the difference. She held herself regally, giving the impression that she could withstand the worst that the Dark Wizards would inflict upon her. For a slight moment, Draco didn't doubt it. And although it was a slight moment, time seemed to slow down. Slowly, she turned her eyes upon him, and once again Draco was breathless. Those eyes, those beautiful green eyes shone in his direction as she slowly curled her lips into the sweetest smile he had ever seen. The beautiful creature then closed her eyes and Draco felt a lurch as time sped up again, and he heard two almost simultaneous words screamed into the night. Next to him, Lucius Malfoy had yelled out, "Crucio!" as Draco shouted, "Noooo!" The last thing he saw before the blinding light was the creature's eyes as she looked at him once more. No longer smiling, she knew that Malfoy had meant the worst of the Unforgivable Curses for her. Draco Malfoy woke in a cold sweat, with the feeling that Voldemort had been laughing at his outburst in the dream.

* * * * *

For a moment, Draco felt disoriented. He hadn't woken up in his room, nor was he at Hogwarts. Then he remembered where he had last seen the beautiful creature. It had been a week ago. When Voldemort had murdered his mother. Draco had come upon the Dark Lord and his supporters in a circle much like the one he had just dreamt of. He wedged himself into a place between his father and another Death-Eater and was stunned to see his mother standing in the middle of the circle. She seemed confused, as if she didn't know why she was stuck in the middle of the circle, and why her husband seemed not to recognize her. She was bawling, calling out his name. Draco looked at his father, but he seemed not to notice anything surrounding him but his Dark Lord. Draco was about to speak when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

When he turned around, he saw the creature that seemed to haunt him every time he was near the Dark Forces. She took his hand, and led him away from the circle of Death-Eaters. Only a moment later, the night sky was lit in a blinding light and Draco and his "guardian" fell to the ground. He tried to stand and run back to the circle as he heard his mother's last words. Except they weren't words at all. His mother was screaming in a voice he had never known capable, and Draco knew that Voldemort had murdered her. He wanted to run back to the clearing with the Death-Eaters, to kill them all at that very moment, but something was still holding him back. The beautiful creature took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. Her dark eyelashes sparkled with the tears that had gathered there, and her emerald eyes shone in the moonlight as she gently but firmly shook her head 'no'. Although she spoke no words, she seemed to say that he should leave that spot before he was seen and shared the same fate as his mother. So Draco, feeling very ashamed at what he felt was cowardice, allowed himself to be led away from the horrific scene and back to the Malfoy Mansion. The beautiful creature left him at his front door and he found himself walking as in a dream up to his room, where he spent the night awake and full of new thoughts.

The next morning, he told his father that he was going to London to wait out the last week before his started his seventh year at Hogwarts. Lucius Malfoy seemed not to notice as his nearly grown son marched out of his study and continued to walk out of the Mansion without looking back. As he passed the portrait of his mother in the front hallway, Draco made a promise that he would not let her death go unpunished, and wiped the renegade tear from his cheek as it fell. He took a deep breath, stepped outside, and took the cab he had called all the way into London, where he had made arrangements to stay the next week at The Leaky Cauldron under a false name. It was here that he had woken up.

* * * * *

Draco wondered why there was an owl sitting in the window of his rented room. He wondered how long this owl had been staring at him in his sleep. Most of all, he wondered who would have cared enough to find him here under his false name, John Doe. (He realized it was cliché, but it was the best choice he had come up with when he had talked to Tom, the owner of The Leaky Cauldron, about renting one of his rooms for the week. Draco made sure he had paid him enough to keep him from wagging his tongue.) The people he was worried about were not likely to be stopped by a simple alias, but he had to take every precaution he could until he got to Hogwarts, where he knew for sure that he would be safe.

The golden owl looked at him for a moment with its large green eyes. Draco thought he had never seen an owl quite like this one. For one thing, its eyes were green. He hadn't ever seen an owl with green eyes, but he released the thought, saying to himself, 'I don't go around looking at every owl in the eye.' But somehow Draco couldn't shake the thought that this was not your everyday owl. The owl flew over and perched upon his bedpost, dropping the letter from its beak into Draco's lap. It was his Hogwarts letter. Of course. Dumbledore could find anyone. "Odd," thought Draco, "this one seems to be a bit thicker than all the others." And he opened it. Draco felt a surge of warmth rush over him. Hogwarts always made him feel better, despite the fact that the whole school seemed to hate him. He hoped Dumbledore would forgive him for the sins of his father.

Dear Draco,

I'm hoping that this letter finds you safely. I understand that you've left your parents' Mansion. I hope you are well and ready to start your final year at Hogwarts. I will not pry into your personal affairs. I know you to be a young man of strong convictions and realize that you would not leave your family's estate over a trifle. I've seen much from you in the past six years, and I'm hoping that you will reach your true potential this year. I have seen many Wizards come and go in this world, most of them lacking half the talent you have shown. Please do not waste your talent, Draco. I will be here when you need me. There is hope. I'll see you at the welcoming feast tonight.

Until That Time,

Albus Dumbledore

Draco was speechless. He had been taught to hate Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Hogwarts, as a Muggle-Lover. Lucius Malfoy had always considered Dumbledore an enemy, and Draco could only do what he was taught. But a small doubt had entered his mind. He was no fool, he realized what risk Dumbledore had taken to give him this comfort. Though the letter was still somewhat guarded, Draco felt for the first time all week a bit of comfort. Dumbledore had let him know that he had a friend in his corner, and for that, Draco suddenly felt a newfound respect for the ancient wizard. He smiled and went to his trunk to get a treat for the owl that had brought him such glad tidings. He found a bit of bread and walked over to the golden bird. Draco offered the owl the only thing he could give an owl, and to his surprise, he received an affectionate nip in return. Draco smiled once more as the golden bird flew out of his window and into the bright new day.

* * * * *

The golden owl flew over the London morning and back in the direction of Dumbledore and Hogwarts. Upon its arrival to Dumbledore's study, the golden bird gave a slight "hoot" and its green eyes sparkled with pride. Albus Dumbledore appeared from behind a large pile of what seemed--to the untrained eye--to be junk. Of course, as the greatest wizard in the world, though unorthodox, that pile which had been hiding Dumbledore was most likely anything but. The ancient wizard made his way over to the window and stroked the feathers of the large bird, pondering aloud. "I do hope he will take me up on my letter. I have the feeling that something drastic has taken place in the Malfoy home, otherwise he never would have left. The Gringott's Goblins tell me he took his entire inheritance out of his father's vault and moved it to a new one. They say he insisted no one was to be told of this. They informed me immediately, of course, thinking he was up to something." The old Headmaster bent his head in thought for a moment. "As much as it pains me to think of how much trouble he could be preparing to cause as a Dark Wizard, I have the strangest intuition that this year he may be switching sides." Dumbledore paused as if waiting for a reply to come from somewhere. When he got none, his eyes met those of the owl, "Well? Aren't you going to tell me how he reacted to my letter?"

* * * * *

Draco was loading his trunk on the Hogwarts Express when he felt a sick knot form at the bottom of his stomach. When he had left home, he hadn't given a thought to what would happen to him when he reached school. Doubt now clouded his mind. Crabbe and Goyle, his "friends" were Death-Eaters, just like their fathers. Draco had never really liked having their company, but like so many other things in his life, that had been his father's choice. Lucius Malfoy had made sure that his son only fraternized with the children of other Dark Wizards, so that he would be sure to know his place as a Malfoy. Draco made his way into an empty compartment at the back of the train, distracted by his thoughts.

Still lost in his own thoughts, Draco didn't notice as the train slowly filled with students and eventually left the station. A scowl formed on his face as he tried to think of what he would do about Crabbe and Goyle. Allowing himself just a small laugh, Draco thought, "At least they're stupid! They probably don't even realize that I'd left home." But his thoughts were suddenly interrupted as his compartment door flew open and someone--or something--came inside and slammed the door behind.

Draco looked up and saw "Granger?! What are you doing here?" As Hermione turned around to look at him, Draco tried to assume his usual haughty air. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to treat her in the same way he had for the past six years. It finally occurred to him that Hermione was a person, too. Then she glared at him and reached for the door handle. "Sorry, Malfoy. Didn't know you would be in here," she said with obvious anger, opening the door. "Wait, Hermione! Please don't go. I'm--I'm . . . sorry." Draco whispered and shut his eyes against the tears that were threatening to form. To his enormous dismay, he heard the door close.

Draco leaned back, eyes still closed. He felt a single, renegade tear leave his eye and roll slowly down his cheek. He made no effort to wipe it away, no one was here to see him cry. He felt it didn't matter if he cried or not since no one was there with him, but his eyes shot open as Hermione swept the tear away with her hand.

"I thought you had gone," Draco said, his pale cheeks flushing a bright crimson.

Hermione spoke with more wisdom than should be found in any young woman of her age. "I figured it must have been pretty important for me to stay if you were going to say my name and the words 'I'm sorry' in the same breath," she said matter-of-factly.

Draco felt all of the pain from his mother's death welling up inside him, ready to explode. He let go a sob. Embarrassed, he looked up at Hermione, but could find no sign of judgment in her dark brown eyes. She smiled at him understandingly and squeezed his hand. This was more than Draco could take, and he began to cry uncontrollably. To his amazement, Hermione just knelt in front of his seat and held him in the first real embrace of his life.

* * * * *

Hermione Granger was no stranger to intrigue. As one of Harry Potter's best friends at Hogwarts, she had been at the forefront in the battle against Lord Voldemort since she had entered the magical world. She knew that she, as a Muggle-Born, a close friend of Potter, and an over-achiever, would be a particularly good target for the negative attention Voldemort and his followers tended to give.

Hermione did not know why exactly she had felt the sudden and strong urge to go off by herself when she had been riding in a compartment with Ron and Harry, but she never doubted her impulses. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to them having large effects in ways she couldn't seem to place a finger on. She, Harry, and Ron had been involved in a heated discussion over the appointment of the new Head Boy and Head Girl. Hermione was just a little miffed that they were teasing her over her appointment. True, she had broken most of the school's rules, but it was not without good cause. She had been itching to go off by herself to think ever since she had boarded the train with her two friends, and this argument was a perfect excuse to leave.

"I'll see you two later when your muddled brains have been cleared. You're just jealous," she huffed as she stormed out.

After the door closed, Hermione smiled to herself at her two friends on the other side. A small pause ensued, followed by a huge guffaw from one of them and, "See you later, Hermione!" from Ron. After six years together, the three of them had grown used to each other's quirks.

Hermione made her way to the back of the train, looking for an empty compartment where she could sit undisturbed and gather her thoughts. She was stopped quite often by other students congratulating her on her appointment as Head Girl. She was almost flattened by Neville Longbottom, who was so happy to see her and share the good news that he had been made Head Boy. Neville had grown up quite a lot in their years at Hogwarts, and she knew that if anyone was worthy of one of the school's greatest honors and responsibilities, it was he. By the end of their conversation, Hermione could not stand in the corridor a moment longer. She found the nearest compartment she thought to be empty, opened the door, and rushed inside. Where she came face to face with Malfoy.

Instantly, she sized him up, noticing a big difference from the year before. But before her thoughts could proceed any further, Draco brought her out of her reverie. His voice had the same sneering pitch as he asked her what she was doing. She turned around and flung open the door once more and was about to storm out when she heard a different voice, "Wait, Hermione! Please don't go. I'm--I'm . . . sorry."

Hermione slowly turned around and saw Draco sitting with his eyes closed. She softly closed the door behind her, not daring to breathe. Hermione knew it was dangerous to be alone with anyone so close to Voldemort, but she felt drawn to this side of Draco, she had never seen him like this before. He had never called her by her first name before, his voice was pleading. She thought more than anything that he seemed to need a real friend. He was even paler than usual, and his face was gaunt as though he hadn't slept for days. Hermione saw a tear roll down his cheek and it was more than she could take, she reached out and touched him. She resolved at that very moment that she would do everything in her power to save this side of Draco Malfoy. Only a moment later, to her immense surprise, she was holding the young man in her arms as he let out all the hurt he felt.

* * * * *

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, stroking his beard with one hand and holding a goblet of pumpkin juice in the other. He slowly took a sip, set the goblet at his desk, and looked at the young woman sitting across from him. He couldn't think of just one word to describe this great-grandniece of his, Dumbledore's only surviving relative. When Voldemort had been in power before, he had killed off Dumbledore's entire family. Except for Bette. Dumbledore had gone to great lengths to ensure that Voldemort did not even know the young witch existed. He had sent her to live with a Muggle family he knew and trusted when she had been born, much to the dismay of her parents, though they knew he was right. She had been raised in a way very similar to Harry Potter's upbringing in that she never knew that she had special powers, but she always felt loved. Finally, when she came of age, Dumbledore informed her of her fate. He knew that this was a lot for any child, but she handled herself magnificently. She continued to live in the Muggle world, attending Muggle schools, but during the summer holidays, Dumbledore would take her in and teach her what young witches and wizards her age were learning at Hogwarts Academy. Only a few people knew of her existence, and Albus Dumbledore preferred to keep it that way. Not only because he had a soft spot for her and wanted to keep her out of harm's (Voldemort's) way, but also because he knew that such secrecy would one day come in handy. He thought of her as one of his most powerful weapons against the Dark Arts. She had skills to rival his own, fierce loyalty towards him, a strong will, and, perhaps most importantly, she had lived a life outside of the magical world, and very few in it knew of her. Finally, Dumbledore spoke, "So you say Draco Malfoy smiled when he got my letter? That's good to hear," he said, a slight twinkle in his blue eyes. Then his expression turned serious, "I think, my dear, it's time for you to come out of the shell I've kept you in these seventeen years. This young man is going to need your help. Are you ready?"

Bette looked down at her hands sitting in her lap. It always stunned her great-great uncle how beautiful she was. Dumbledore saw her profile as she turned her head to look at the darkening sky outside one of his windows. Her hair shone a dark gold in the low light, and she seemed almost to be searching for the right words to say. He knew she had led a very difficult life since he had turned up at her door six years ago and told her that there was a whole different world that she must one day help salvage if it ever came to that. Bette thought she had never been close to anyone but her Muggle family and this one living relative. She had hardly been allowed any friendships due to her life of secrecy, not to mention that she hadn't had but a few moments of time to herself in years. Bette felt truly alone, but she accepted it as her fate unless she performed the duty she was born to serve. There was a slight pause as she thought of the exact words she wanted to use at this pivotal moment in her life. Bette looked at her hands once more, took a deep breath, and rose her eyes to meet his gaze. Albus Dumbledore, who delighted in life's small surprises, smiled widely as Bette's green eyes sparkled and she said with a smile in return, "I was born ready!"