To Sleep No More

"To die: to sleep no more; and, by a sleep to say we end the heart- ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."

-- Hamlet, by William Shakespeare

I hope you all enjoy my story. Please feel free to AIM me at Trillion86, or Email me, or... well, you get the idea!

Enjoy!

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We owe them so much.

We owe them terror.

We owe them horror.

We owe them murder.

We owe them their deaths.

We owe them so much. So very, very much.

I don't enjoy my job. But I don't hate it. I just... do it. It's a part of life. Like the falling of the rain, or the setting of the sun. It just happens, and you try not to let it affect you too much.

I wouldn't have said that I'm a cold and heartless person, but then, if you asked the witches and wizards that I worked against if I am, they almost certainly would say so.

It is a long story. And so, where better to start then the beginning?

There was a war. Before the war, everyone wanted to be a teacher, or a popstar, or a computer game designer. Suddenly, everyone wanted only one thing; to be a survivor.

It was an overcrowded profession.

There was a war between witches and wizards against other witches and wizards; 'good against evil' we were told. We ordinary humans had known nothing of these strange magical people, until they began to fight. Then the world seemed to fall apart. They fought against each other, although we 'Muggle' people were the ones to really suffer. We had no magic powers. We had no spells to make us invisible, heal our wounds, or rebuild our houses.

And why should they, these people with the magical powers, Spacers as we called them, the people causing all this destruction, who considered us so inferior, wish to help us? They did not. My daughter was killed, and I know they could have saved her. I just know. But they said there was nothing they could do.

With all that power, and all that magic, they couldn't help even one sick child? Maybe it's me, but I don't believe that.

Maybe that's one thing that makes my job easier. They would not save my child, so why should I help theirs? Don't judge me by what I do. You would be the same in my position.

After their war ended, death rates rose amongst us 'Muggles'. A mystery desiese. The wizards and witches were not affected by it. My son died. My husband died. My sister and brother died.

So, it was made illegal to be a witch or wizard. So, what do I do about it? I'll tell you;

I kill people for a living. Well, not really people; witches and wizards. Still, same difference, eh?

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

Ring ri-

"Hello?" I answered the phone.

"Jacqueline Raoul?"

"Speaking."

"This is Mr. Jonathan Harperston, of the British government speaking on behalf of your Prime Minister. We have job for you."

"Hey, yeah?"

"We have a number of known witches and wizards who need to be tracked down and dealt with."

"Look, mate," I told him "It's not my job to track people down. Just to get rid of them. So go and find someone else, will you?"

"Miss Raoul, if you are instructed to track down the suspects, you will do so. As it is, we have enough leads to go on for you to find them without too much trouble."

"So, give me the 'leads', and I'll do it," I told him.

"All right. I'll meet you in an hour at Canary Wharf-- or what's left of it. Can you make it?"

"I'll try. But you know what the train system is like. I might be a little late, OK?"

"No, Miss Raoul, it's not OK. You will be there on time," the line went dead. He must have put down the phone. Bloody government officials. Who does he think he is? The chief of the MIB? [A/n; Men In Black]

As life would have it, I was able to make it on time. Canary Wharf was pretty different to how I remembered it. It was now a shell of what it was. It used to be a huge block of flats, bustling with people, bloody tall. I know that the IRA [Irish Republican Army.] bombed it once, years ago, but it had been repaired.

This time, no one had bothered to rebuild it. It was like a hollow cuboid, burnt up, and glass littered the pavement all around it, like a million fallen stars.

Luckily, any bodies that might had belonged to people who died in it's destruction had been removed since. I still felt sick to my stomach looking at it, though.

"Miss Raoul?"

"Wha'?" I spun round. My hand went to where I have to keep a gun, in case I'm attacked, although it's little defence against a wand. I'd completely forgotten about the geezer I was supposed to be meeting.

"Miss Raoul?" he repeated.

"That's me, mister."

He was the smartest dressed bloke I'd seen since the beginning of the war. I guessed he might have had his clothes shipped in from abroad, else he'd be dressed like everyone else. You have to be careful, though; people round here would kill for a suit like that, me included, on a bad day. Luckily, I get paid just enough to keep myself decent.

"We have tracked down the Spacers," he meant the magic people. It's what we call them in the government, "and we have a record of their profiles. Here," he handed me a pile of sooty and fingermarked sheets of paper.

"Hmmm... these the Spacers I gotta get?"

"Of course."

I studied the sheets;

NAME; Virginia Frances Weasley

AGE; 23

APPEARENCE; Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, slim build-- Photo enclosed.

OTHER INFO; Mostly harmless, unless cornered. Member of the MRAMF [Magical Resistance Against Muggle Forces] group.

NAME; Hermione Helenor Granger.

AGE; 24

APPEARENCE; brown hair and eyes, slightly large front teeth. --Photo enclosed

OTHER INFO; one of the leaders of MRAMF. Extremely intelligent, and should not be underestimated.

NAME; Draco Malfoy.

AGE; 24

APPEARENCE; silver- blonde hair, grey eyes. Of small build and under average height. --Photo enclosed

OTHER INFO; Potentially dangerous, especially if cornered.

NAME; Harry James Potter

AGE; 24

APPEARENCE; Black hair, green eyes. Distinctive lightening- bolt shaped scar on forehead. Of small build. -- photo enclosed.

OTHER INFO; Leader of MRAMF along with HERMIONE HELENOR GRANGER. Potentially dangerous.

I had to admit, some of those names rang a bell. Harry Potter... wasn't he really important in the Wizard/ wizard war, even though he was so young? They said he was on the 'good' side. Yeah... good for what? Nothing, that's what. Nothing, that is, except destroying lives....

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"Harry?"

"What?" Harry Potter looked up from where he had been sitting, staring that the floor.

Hermione was twisting her hands uncomfortably in front of her. He could tell that she was nervous.

"Something's up. I can feel it. Can't you tell?" she blinked at him.

"Yes... but I couldn't say what it was."

"Oh..." he paused "Where's Ginny?"

"She's out, getting food."

"Good," Harry didn't know what else to say. Ginny helped steal food for them, when she could. She'd probably be better off if she was caught and shot. At least it wouldn't be cold in Heaven. And she'd be with her family.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I miss the others."

"Me too... but we've got to keep going, you know that?"

"I know, I know... we can't let them beat us," Hermione rubbed her eyes which were heavy with tiredness.

"Right."

"I need some sleep. You OK?"

"Could be worse. I'll keep watch. You go and get some rest."

"Thanks," she hugged him briefly, and left into the remainders of the room opposite

Harry sat and listened to his friend falling asleep. Everything was quiet. He was beginning to nod off, when suddenly, a noise made him bring his head sharp up.

He waited a minute or so. No more noise.

Harry let himself relax. It was probably just his imagination.

No! There it was again!

Someone, or something, was moving inside the only other room in the dugout that had no one in it. The food store. Harry's hand went into his pocket for his wand.

He made his way slowly towards the source of the noise. He was taking no chances. Whoever it was could be armed. It could be a Muggle investigator, planning to kill them all. It could be anyone.

Harry stepped through the door.

"Malfoy!"

In the shadows, he could make out the bony face of Draco Malfoy. Harry had assumed that he was dead, along with the other members of the organisation Malfoy had been part of. Harry didn't quite know if Malfoy was friend or foe.

"So, you found me, Potter," Malfoy glared at him. Harry noticed that he was not armed "are you going to kill me?"

"Why would I do that?" Harry lowered his wand.

"Don't tell me that you wouldn't love to, because I know you would."

"Don't be stupid. We're on the same side now. Just don't nick our food; we need it."

"You think you're so great, don't you, Potter." Malfoy glared at him, "You haven't changed a bit since school, I can already see that. Now, if your not going to kill me, let me leave."

"Harry, who-?" a voice came up behind him.

"It's Draco Malfoy, Hermione. Stealing food."

"I was not. I don't need to steal from you. I have plenty of food, thank you very much."

"Well," Hermione shrugged, "you won't want to share lunch with us then. Let him go, Harry."

But Malfoy, whose pale and gaunt face had lit up at the references to lunch, seemed reluctant to go, although he was unwilling to admit it.

"All right, Mudblood. I'll go. Move out of my way, Potter," he strode forwards purposefully.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to have lunch with us, Malfoy?" Hermione called after him. Malfoy stopped in his tracks.

"Hermione!" Harry objected.

"And what makes you think I want to share my lunch with a Mudblood, a weasel and a potty?"

"Fine then, don't," she shrugged, "your loss is our gain."

"Hermione, I-"

"Shush, Harry. Malfoy?"

Malfoy paused for a moment, then turned to her.

"All right," he said at last "although this doesn't mean I like any of you, or that I'm not perfectly capable of finding my own lunch."

"Of course not," Hermione assured him "we hate you too. But we're all on the same side. We have to stick together, right?"

Malfoy looked at her for another long moment.

"Right," he agreed, reluctantly.

"Hermione," Harry interrupted again, "can I have a word with you?"

"All right. Malfoy, just go into that room there. Don't steal or anything, or we will throw you out, no questions asked."

Malfoy muttered something, but did as she bade him. It was obvious that he had been fairing at least as bad as Harry, Hermione and Ginny, more likely, worse.

As soon as Malfoy was out of earshot, Harry turned on Hermione.

"What did you do that for?!"

"What?" She blinked at him, as if innocently.

"You know what! Letting that... that... that Death Eater in here, giving him our food...!"

"He isn't a Death Eater, Harry."

"How do you know?! Honestly! How can you let him in here?!"

"Harry, he's on our side. He doesn't have a choice," Hermione looked at him "The Death Eaters are all gone, now. Voldemort is gone. There are only two sides left; ours or the Muggles'. And Malfoy can't exactly side with the Muggles, so, we don't give him a choice, right?"

"The Death Eaters killed your parents like Voldemort killed mine! How can you let him in here?"

"Harry..." Hermione bit her lip, "Harry..." she broke off again, and seemed to brace herself "Just trust me. I don't like him any more then you do, but trust me... we all have to stick together, all of us witches and wizards, or else the Muggles will win. And we can't let them do that, or are you going to let them beat us?" she glared at him for a moment, and he looked back at her, "Harry, he's staying. That's all there is to it."

She swept away. Harry stared after her.

He was angry, so he didn't go in, even when Ginny came back with her pockets full of pilfered food. She gave him a bright smile, and told him she'd got cheese, and even some chocolate digestive.

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