Fallen Angels

Chapter One: Catch Me As I Fall

"Catch me as I fall
Say you're here and it's all over now
Speaking to the atmosphere
No one's here and I fall into myself
This truth drives me into madness
I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away"

--Evanescence: Whisper (Fallen 2003)

It was the very last of the dog days of March. People always say that nothing ever happens during March, at least nothing exciting. This war made up for it; the war that would create a new era, the war that would determine the fate of all wizarding folk, the war that would change everything and turn the world upside down. Every bit of feeling we had had been drained from us faster than a Dementor sucks the life out of a room. My childhood background and my being a Slytherin caused me to be emotionless in public. I would show no feeling to those around me in the outside world, as I was once taught by my guardians. Little did I know that the emotionless stone-cold mask I wore that night, would soon wither and crumble to pieces with the events that partook later on.

We all watched them. Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws alike, we watched them fight. The seventh year boys were required to fight in the battle that was now waging at Hogwarts. During the battle, the girls were restricted to remaining in the Great Hall to stay with the younger children, who stood and sat huddled together away from the windows closest to the battlefield. They did not want to witness the fight that was to change their lives forever. It was one of those women and children first things. Our safety was their primary concern and thus, we were not allowed to fight alongside our friends and brothers.

Time felt non-existent for us. Watching them trying to fend off the foe made time feel as though it were standing still. What seemed to be hours, were in truth only a few short minutes. The clock was our enemy, silence was our friend, as we watched with our noses against the windowpanes, waited, and listened. They seemed like little chess pieces being moved on a chessboard, one attacking the other. Bright lights flew everywhere as cry after cry and scream after scream rang out into the crisp night. The wind blew softly through a high window on the far side, which Professor McGonagall had opened to allow a bit of fresh air to come in. But it felt icy. The day was done and gone was the sun. Ironically, as the night's black sky came upon us, true Darkness had crept upon us as well.

With our faces pressed against the cool windowpanes we stood together inside the Great Hall, observing the battle, fearing for the lives of our friends or boyfriends. Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Elizabeth Lestrange and Mona Jugson, fellow Slytherins of mine, stood beside me watching men fall one by one to a bright green light that blinded them into death. At the window to the left of us stood a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. I believe it were Mandy Brocklehurst, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones--though my memory might be deceiving me. To the right of us at another window were Hermione Granger, Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown. Of that, however, I am certain. All of them had very nervous looks on their face.

'Oh, do move over, Blaise!' came the bossy voice of Pansy Parkinson. She shoved me over with her shoulder, but not very far.

'Draco is fine, Pansy! I just checked a second ago! You're worse than a mother sometimes,' I replied. I wasn't even looking out the window anymore, and Elizabeth was silently watching me argue with Pansy, an unreadable expression on her face. 'Now leave me alone. I'm trying to see what's going on.'

I squinted my eyes to see a black figure get cursed and scream in pain. The figure's hood fell, revealing Professor Snape's pale face. For a moment, my heart panged. He was hurt. I felt terrible. I had always had a bit of a crush on the man and so did Elizabeth. It was the one reason that had made us become such good friends in the first place, but it was not the reason we stayed friends.

The spring breeze blew Snape's lengthy black hair out of his face, as my Godfather came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. I scowled, for I did not like my Godfather. He and my Godmother had raised me since I'd been very small. It was a pity that Voldemort had taken over Azkaban once more and let lose all of his most loyal followers after they had been captures at the end of our fifth year. Among them being my Godfather himself, but also Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and his brother Rabastan Lestrange.

Snape spun around to see who it was, having his wand at the ready, quite obviously fearing that it would be someone trying to kill him. In Slytherin House, it was common knowledge to a few of us--including myself--that Snape was fighting on the side of Darkness for one reason or another. Rumour had it that he was doing it for himself, but I had heard that it was because he knew what would become of the wizarding world if the Dark Sorcerer, Voldemort, took over.

Snape and my Godfather seemed to be talking for a minute in the midst of a short break from fighting. My Godfather looked completely livid as well, but with good reason. Aurors from the Ministry of Magic had killed his wife and my Godmother, Narcissa, only a few months prior. I remembered it well. Draco and I had been there and had seen what had happened. Both Draco and his father were torn by her death. Lucius got angrier for it, seeking to drown his grief in only revenge. Draco, on the other hand, had become a little less antagonizing than he had been when we'd been first years. Within the past few months, he had even stopped teasing and taunting Harry Potter and his friends, and with that he'd grown a little softer, but still gave his life over to the Dark Arts.

I'd scarcely had a choice. My parents had been Death Eaters and had been killed by the Ministry as well, when I had still been a baby. Since then I'd lived in the Malfoy household, under the heavy influence of Dark Magic. Everyone thought and assumed I would be the same, but I wasn't. I didn't like death in the slightest. I obeyed the rules of Malfoy Manor because I had to. That was a given, but I had vowed not to become that way. I returned my concentration to the window, the war, and the other five girls squishing me to be able to look out the window too.

Soldiers of the Light cast and blocked curse after curse. Shades of vibrant light were being released everywhere I looked. No one could tell who cast which spell. From the corner of my eye I saw a jet of light zap from one person's wand. It nearly hit Snape who managed to avoid getting struck and cast a curse of his own. A flash of green light emanated from his wand, without doubt the Killing Curse and the body of his attacker fell to the floor. Dead. Squinting my eyes to see better, I could make out the dead body of Mundungus Fletcher, and my Godfather moved closer to Snape, congratulating him on a good kill, or at least that's what it looked like to me.

'Girls, step away from the windows, please!' Professor McGonagall said, paranoid freak that she was. But the girls and I did as we were told and sat at the Slytherin table, waiting. Professor McGonagall looked terrified. She kept dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief. She was sweating from worry. I couldn't help but understand what she was going through.

Only five minutes later Pansy started up again.

'I've got to know what's going on!' she whined in exactly the tone that I found the most annoying. 'I need to know if Draco's--.'

'For the last time, Pansy, shut your trap!'

'Which trap? Her mouth or her legs?' Mona whispered to me in my ear. I couldn't help but giggle a little and my face flushed. It was common knowledge that Pansy draped herself over guys like a curtain. She fawned over them terribly, but according to our knowledge she hadn't done anything to that extent yet. We just made fun of her because she wanted it so bad. And that comment coming from Mona was a bit of a surprise. She did say stuff like that, but only to close friends. She typically was a quite girl who, like Hermione Granger, kept her nose in books. Except that Mona kept her nose in books about the Dark Arts that her father gave her. We wouldn't abandon her as a friend for it. It was her choice. And we wouldn't ever do such a thing, even if she did admire Voldemort's work.

Pansy gaped at Elizabeth, but then shut her mouth. Apparently, Elizabeth had finally gotten the message through that thick head of Pansy's. I felt bad for her sometimes, though. It was common knowledge in Slytherin House that Draco didn't really like Pansy, but she just didn't get the message. Not that I blamed him. She had always been a pushy and bossy person, even with the girls. She always insisted she was right too. She didn't take no for an answer. She nearly blew up our potion one day in class. If it hadn't been for my quick thinking, Snape would have scolded us for days, although he would never scold us in front of the Gryffindors, let alone deduct any points from his own house. No, when a Slytherin had disappointed him, he had that certain way of looking at us. I can't describe it because there was hardly a difference in his expression from the one we were used to, but somehow, he managed to make you feel small and insignificant.

'I don't know why we're not out there with them!' I could hear Hermione nearly shout. The whole hall practically heard her. The smaller kids who had been exchanging scared whispers fell silent.

'Anyone ask you to speak, Mudblood?' Pansy said. She just had to ridicule someone.

Elizabeth cut in before I could. 'Pansy, read my lips. Shut. Up,' she all but hissed. Remarkable how much like a slap in the face her voice could sound. 'You've been saying that since we got here seven years ago. I'm tired of having to listen to it! We're all in a precarious situation here! And as I see it, blood doesn't matter anymore. So be quiet. Show a little respect for the people who are dying out there.' Usually one could hear 'oooh' noises coming from various people when one person told another off. If we hadn't been in such a precarious situation I would have done it myself. Mainly because Elizabeth wasn't known for speaking very much when she wasn't asked a direct question. She'd always been a quite thoughtful person. But even her patience had its limits.

A Slytherin first-year, whose brother was fighting outside, burst into tears and Elizabeth got up to comfort the little girl as she knew the girl's brother quite well.

Almost regally, Pansy straightened her back as she sat and stuck her ugly nose in the air. 'Well, if the Dark Side wins, we aren't in a precarious situation,' she muttered. 'Or at least I'm not. I'll be heavily rewarded.' Apparently, no one but me had heard her.

'Girls, please,' McGonagall said, wiping her forehead again. 'We asked you to stay here because someone needs to help us look after the younger children. The female teachers can't manage them all alone.'

I didn't need to be told that twice. We sat down as we were told. As usual Mona and Elizabeth took their seats beside me and Pansy and Millicent for the hell of it sat across from us. Usually, Draco Malfoy would sit at least somewhat near us with Crabbe and Goyle, but he was fighting. I watched Hermione Granger take a seat at the Gryffindor table. Her eyes met mine very briefly and all I saw in them was fear, fear of loosing her best friends. Everyone noticed how the three of them got along so well for the past seven years, even the Slytherins. Of course no one missed Harry and Ron practically dragging Hermione into the Great Hall telling her to stay there for her safety. How those two cared about her and how she cared about them. It was so obvious.

Over the table, I made eye-contact with Elizabeth and Mona for a moment, then looked at Pansy and Millicent. There was always such tension between us. That tension just seemed to increase with every passing second. There was always that prevalent split between the little groups we formed among the Slytherin girls, but that was because of difference in attitude and feelings.

Suddenly everyone turned his or her heads. There was chanting coming from the Entrance Hall. Everyone could hear it but no one could make out what they were saying. It sounded somewhat like Latin, a language I had no desire to learn, despite the fact that most incantations were derived from that language. A faint glow of green could be seen, coming from outside.

McGonagall looked out the window. Her face blanched with fear. 'Oh, dear goodness,' was all she whispered. While she was in a trance, I took the opportunity to look out the window myself. Hovering high above the battleground, there was a large green skull glowing against the night sky. The sign of the Dark Lord seemed to be gleaming all too brightly, filling me with a sense of foreboding.

'What is it, Blaise? What do you see? Tell us!' my Slytherin friends nagged at me, but I was too paralysed with shock to speak. I spun around as the doors of the Great Hall opened with a bang. I jumped, staring around persistently, my heart racing faster than a horse running the Belmont Stakes. The Death Eaters stormed in, carrying the bodies of those who'd died. Only McGonagall and I were standing. In utter silence, we all watched them place the bodies of the important people on the High Table. One by one. There were ten altogether and, as I was sure of, more, but I assumed that they had taken the bodies of the less important people somewhere else or had just left them lying somewhere out there...

I recognised several of the Death Eaters, Professor Snape among them. He held the body of a student, placed him on the table and walked away. But as he moved, an ear-shattering scream filled the Hall. I looked again and saw that the dead body belonged to a Gryffindor. It was Ron Weasley's; and the scream had been uttered by none other than Hermione Granger.

I was surprised that Voldemort wasn't around. It had seemed like he had won, because another Death Eater (whom I recognized as Lucius Malfoy) carried the quite obviously dead body of Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster, to the table. Several students broke into tears as they began to realize what the loss of the Headmaster meant for their fate. I didn't break down though. Like everybody else, I was hurt by the loss, but unlike the others I had been taught not to cry long ago. My Godparents detested the sight of tears, especially my Godfather. My parents had been Death Eaters, but had been killed in a Ministry raid shortly before the Potters had been murdered. It was a reason why I disliked the Ministry somewhat. They had killed my parents and I had to live in the Malfoy household after that. The Ministry was responsible for them becoming my Godparents, whom I respected as such. But I also hated them.

I was too occupied with staring at the bodies of the dead people to notice that a shadow had moved near me. When I finally grew aware of it, I gasped and turned around to find Professor Snape.

'Sit down,' he said to me in a tone of voice that sounded slightly harsh though at the same time unusually gentle.

I obeyed and took a seat, finally being able to move. Just after I'd sat down, I noticed his head turn to the doors of the Great Hall. I mimicked his action--and saw Voldemort. Other students followed suit and turned their head to the door as well. Screams and terrified loud whispers began to ring out for two reasons. One, because Voldemort was standing there, and two, because of the body he held in his arms.

'NO!' Granger's scream was blood curdling, and shivers ran down my spine at the volume and pitch of the shell-shocked cry. She hopped up from her seat rudely dumping a first year on the floor. She sprinted to the Dark Lord's side and tried to pry the pale corpse from his murdering grasp. Voldemort looked to Snape as if to say "Get this sentimental piece of filth away from the proof of my glory". Acquiescing, Snape pulled Hermione gently aside, where she slid limply to the cold stone floor as if her bones were gone. She dissolved into tears and her body shook from the force of her weeping. Some people can cry prettily, Hermione wasn't one of them. Her lips quavered, her nose and eyes turned red, and she clenched her fists into tight balls at her side.

The body of our seventeen-year-old hero, Harry Potter, was presented to us like a trophy. Ron Weasley was laid out on the table behind. Hermione, who was now left behind and split from her Gryffindor trio, cried as her heart broke into pieces. My heart went out to her. Had it been Elizabeth, Mona, or any other of my very close friends, I would have been screaming at the top of my lungs in anguish.

A strange realization came over me; and it was nothing short of surprising to me that I was so utterly calm. This was it. Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were dead; Voldemort was alive. A new era was about to begin and our lives would never be the same. I watched Voldemort place the body on the centre of the table. He turned around to face the rest of us. His red eyes blazed with successful vengeance. It was as if the candlelight had gone out and we stood there knowing that it wasn't going to be lit for a very long time. Darkness had finally consumed us and pulled us into this black hole from which we could not escape.

'Hear me now!' he announced. 'I rule this castle! From this day forward, there will be a new society. Those of you who refuse to accept my reign will be sentenced to death and will be imprisoned in the dungeons until the day of your public execution.' A chill ran down my spine. I didn't like the sound of that at all. It sounded like something taken right from the Middle Ages.

Voldemort continued his speech. 'Now, you will all return to your dormitories. Tomorrow, the details of this glorious new society will be revealed to you. However, I have a special task, which I will appoint to a mere privileged seven among you tonight.' He paused meaningfully, and everyone stared at him wondering what this "special task" might be. Ideas of what it could possibly be chased each other through my head. It could be murder or torture or anything along those lines, although, it could have been a duty securing safety for whoever was picked. I was sure that he was going to put us to death right then and there...

'The seven names I call out are in alphabetical order so if you do not hear your name you will leave. If your name is called you must stay." And then Voldemort began to state the names.

'Mandy Brocklehurst.' The seventh-year Ravenclaw girl looked terrified. I'd be dead frightened too if my name were called out first, but since it was in alphabetical order, I would only be last, even if I were picked. I saw quite a few people begin to leave and return to their dormitories. Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones left the hall, terrified. Their names hadn't been called and they left because they knew they wouldn't be called. I didn't know that that moment would be the last time I'd ever see them.

'Millicent Bulstrode.' Ah, my fellow Slytherin and one I didn't care for at that. Millicent was this tom-boy type girl. Always pushy like Pansy. That's why those two got along just splendidly. On the other hand, Elizabeth and I got along because we'd always been the somewhat girly type. Always playing with our hair and such.

'Hermione Granger.' The heads turned for that one. We all looked towards the back of the Great Hall to where Granger was on the ground. Her sobs racked her entire body as large tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking her robes. I doubt she was aware that Voldemort had even called her name. Snape stood by her side, keeping a close watch on her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, but she didn't react. Not even flinch. Was Voldemort intentionally picking only girls? The hall was slowly emptying. Anyone whose name was before Granger's left as quickly as they could.

'Mona Jugson,' Voldemort sneered at this. And it was no surprise that he would. The Jugsons were among his most faithful, and Mona had done nothing but have a high regard for Voldemort since she started school. It was almost obsessive, but Elizabeth and I had no right to talk. Our families were just as bad and our silly school-girl crushes on Professor Snape were no better that Mona's admiration of the Dark Lord.

'Elizabeth Lestrange.' Oh dear. My breathing got harder and faster. Not my best friend. This couldn't be happening to me. Whatever this task was, I prayed that it wasn't painful. I didn't want to lose the only person I considered my friend and my sister. I didn't want to be separated from her either, yet I feared being called. Elizabeth looked as if she were about to cry. I guess the shock was too great for that, though. She was nervously biting her lip and seemed to want to be anywhere else but where she actually was. She wasn't even seeking eye-contact with me. I'm sure she would have lost her composure if she had exchanged a glance with me.

I was beginning to get scared. Fear crept upon me. My stomach began to churn, and I felt nauseous. I had a bad feeling about those that were getting picked. More people left. The hall was now more than half empty. A faint malicious smile crept over Voldemort's countenance. His eyes flickered to the Slytherin table again. For a moment his eyes lingered on me. My eyes locked with his and there was this unmistakable feeling of foreboding in me that coursed through the very marrow of my bones.

'Pansy Parkinson,' he finally said.

There was one name left and I was still here. Voldemort's eyes went to the Gryffindor table and then to the Hufflepuff table. He was going to pick a Hufflepuff. I was sure of it. He hadn't picked one of their lot yet. I was safe.

But then in a clear voice he said the two words that would seal my fate: 'Blaise Zabini.' For what seemed like a very long time, I couldn't breathe properly. I stared blankly at the High Table. I even shook my head to myself. I was in denial. This wasn't happening to me. It couldn't be happening to me. It mustn't. This could only be a nightmare I was stuck in. It just couldn't be real!

The room got blurry, then black. I stood up thinking I was dreaming. The last thing I saw was Voldemort walking towards me before I tumbled to the floor in a dead faint, with no one to catch me as I fell...