When Worlds Collide

Chapter Two: Letters (The Angry)

The Great Hall was less crowded at breakfast on saturday morning than it was during the week, because the students of Hogwarts did not feel the need to rush to their morning classes. As the food magically appeared on the tables so too did the morning post arrive in the form of hundreds of owls shooting into the hall looking for their owners. Draco Malfoy was just taking a buttered roll from the bowl in front of him at the Slytherin table when his owl, Socrates, landed gracefully beside his plate. Socrates was a regal barn owl who, like the Malfoys he served, held a superiority in his nature.

The owl held out his claw to Draco, attached to it was a black envelope. Draco and his father, Lucius Malfoy, had a system. If Draco received a letter from his father in a green envelope, it was safe to open around others, if it was in a black envelope the letter was to be read in private, away from dangerously prying eyes. Glancing up and down his table, Draco rose from his seat between Crabbe and Goyle, who were too busy eating to notice, and left the Great Hall.

As Head Boy, Draco had his own private quarters, and it was there he headed with the letter from his father. Once inside his room he tore open the envelope to reveal the razor blade script of Lucius Malfoy.

Draco-

I hope that you have not yet begun to destroy your last year at Hogwarts. You'd better be planning on surpassing that mudblood Granger this year in your classes. Ah, but I have more important news to discuss with you than your numerous academic failings.

The Dark Lord has arranged an attack on the Weasleys, Arthur Weasley in particular. I have been chosen to lead this mission and I decided to inform you of this so that you might take some pleasure in watching that boy and his sister when they hear the news of their father's death.

Remember where your loyalties lie, boy. And don't do anything stupid, I'm busy enough without having to buy your way out of trouble constantly.

Lucius

Over the years Draco had become immune to his father's constant insults, and so he focused on the importance of this letter. Arthur Weasley was going to be murdered. He'd seen Mr. Weasley only once, before his second year, at Diagon Alley. Arthur seemed like a very loving father and, though Draco would never admit it, he had been jealous of the Weasley children on that day. His own father was cold, sadistic and uncaring, their father was warm, loving and likeable. And now he would be killed.

So, having only ever seen the man once, Draco didn't know Mr. Weasley and he didn't quite care that he would have his life taken from him, but he didn't quite feel right about it either. For the rest of the day his mood was rather dormant. He didn't speak to any one of his classmates, and he avoided tormenting the Weasleys. He was too busy trying to label the emotion that he was experiencing. Draco passed through the day in this manner until the evening meal.

At the Slytherin table Draco took his usual seat between his crones. Crabbe and Goyle immediately began gorging themselves with all the food within their reach, however Draco couldn't seem to find an appetite of his own. Well, if ever a family could make you lose your appetite it'd be the Weasleys, he thought with disdain. But somehow Draco couldn't summon the same loathing that he had held towards the family just hours before. Sure, he hated that brute, Ron...no grace at all. And his older brothers, Fred and George, thank God he didn't have those prats do deal with anymore. Percy was an absolute puke, and he didn't really know the rest of the Weasley boys. As for the youngest Weasel, Ginny...well, Draco had never had anything against her except for the fact that her last name was Weasley. Still...something in Draco didn't want these people, who he'd been taught to despise, to live through the absolute horror of losing a parent. It was only a small, miniscule part of Draco that felt this way, but still it was there, and it irked him. Without thinking his gaze turned towards the Gryffindor table and was immediately met by another's.

Ginny Weasley stared back at him from the rival table. Her green eyes were unfathomably deep pools, holding more emotion than Draco had ever known in another's gaze. They were sad. He could see right into her sorrow just by looking at her face, making him wonder how this girl could hide all this sadness from friends who knew her better than he. He was lost in her emotion, what could make this girl feel so melancholy? Before he could find an answer to this question his eyes were suddenly stripped of hers and he watched her retreating form as she fled the Great Hall.

What had all that been about? Why should he care about her? Some muggle lover's feelings didn't matter to him. He sat there for a moment with these questions invading his mind before making his own exit from the cheerful Hall.

"Aboriginie," Draco spoke the password for the portrait leading to his bedroom and stepped inside. Intending to go immediately to sleep, he stalked over to his bed but was disappointed to see that he had yet more business to attend to. Another letter sat upon his emerald sheets, this one in a green envelope, not that it mattered since it had been placed in his private quarters.

Son-

I neglected to include, in my previous letter a little reminder. You'll be expected to receive your Dark Mark soon. In fact this summer the Dark Lord is holding a commencement ceremony for those joining the Death Eaters. You'd better be prepared to join us. I won't tolerate any of your incolence this summer, you're getting a little old for disobedience.

Lucius

Draco sat on his bed for an eternity until the letters were blazed into his vision. Slowly he crushed the parchment in his fist. His body was numb as anger flooded through his veins. He exploded in a storm of rage and flew through his room destroying everything in his path. Papers, books, two lamps, clothing, and other indiscernible pieces of debris lay scattered on the floor when Draco had finally exhausted himself. He lay in the center of his room on the rug before his empty fireplace, pounding the ground with his fist. His face was contorted in anger and tears ran down freely. At length he even ceased punching the floor and simply lay there perfectly still.

After he had calmed down, Draco sat up and looked around at the shambles he had diminished his room to. Not wanting to deal with it, he stood and left, walking out into the dark halls of Hogwarts. It must have been past midnight. He made his way through the labyrinth of corridors, not quite knowing where he was going, just knowing that he couldn't stay still. He made his way down the halls, dark and faceless except for the occasional passing window. It was one of these windows that caused him to end his wandering. A shock of red was what caught his attention at first. He realized that it was a small person huddled against the window, sitting on the sill. A girl, she appeared to be crying. It could only be one person with that hair. Ginny.

He stood there watching her oblivious form for minutes before he shocked himself by reaching out his hand and placing it on her shoulder. Ginny at once lifted her face to look upon his. She, too, was shocked. She looked confused, but above all she looked as she had in the Great Hall, sad. Slowly she averted her eyes from his and stared out at the grounds of Hogwarts. Why wasn't he pulling his hand away? Why couldn't he pull his hand away?

He slowly became aware that he was moving his hand in circles over her shoulder. He couldn't tell for how long he'd been doing this. Hours passed without either person moving except for the rhythmic motion of Draco's hand. When the sky became dangerously bright Draco knew that he would have to leave before the other students began to emerge from sleep. He took his hand from her shoulder and replaced it in her crimson locks, he gently touched her head and brought his face down as if to kiss her hair but stopping short. With that he walked away wordlessly.