Madame Butterfly

Madame Butterfly

He had been following her for a good half an hour when she finally exited from the dirty and damp streets of London into small dingy building from a side alley. He was out of breath; she had been running through the streets, obviously late for something. He had paid no heed to his surroundings, but when he approached the door that she had disappeared into, he found himself unable to open it from the outside. It would take magic to do so and he knew that using it in these circumstances would alert her to his presence. Making his way around to the front, he saw for the first time the sign written in scrawling neon lights 'Le Petit Théâtre'. The harsh pink bulbs flickered slightly, hurting his eyes. Glancing nervously around, he ducked quickly into the building and disappeared from sight.

He had been following them for weeks now, memorizing their movements, their routines. They were creatures of habit he discovered, lowly, animalistic beings that ran by a set schedule. Organized some would say, he even prided himself on such qualities; but he could only look at them as subhuman forms. He knew where to find them that night, always at home by this time of the day. They would be sitting down to dinner, eating roast beef. This he knew. The kitchen was at the back of their home and they always shut the door to the hall while eating, turning up the classical music that they played over the radio. The last Thursday of each month their daughter was conveniently absent for dinner, a fact that he didn't investigate, but wasn't concerned over.

The foyer of the theatre was much more presentable than the outside. The plush red carpet looked almost new and the people milling about looked quite stylish in their Muggle attire. He blended in well in his pressed black slacks and polo shirt, clothing he reserved only for excursions like this when he knew he would have to assimilate with these types. He bore no Muggle money, so he was forced to very carefully slip past the meek looking women standing by the doors to the main auditorium. It was obvious it was almost show time; all the seats were more or less occupied. He lurked at the back until the last person filtered in, before searching out an empty seat. As he took his spot, the house lights dimmed and the music began.

He walked confidently up to their front door, the concealment charm protecting him from prying eyes. He spared no sneer for the shabby dwelling, today was not a day to think about such things. He had spent enough time while watching them to contemplate it. Wordlessly, he slipped in the front door, which he knew would be unlocked awaiting their daughter's arrival home later that night. Standing quietly in the front hall, he removed the concealment charm as he stealthily made his way towards the door. His long blonde hair glimmered in the soft light of the setting sun and he paused as the shine caught his eye in a mirror. Regarding his aged reflection, only slightly altered from his stay in Azkaban, he lightly smoothed down his robes and raised his chin haughtily before continuing down the corridor.

To say he was shocked when he first saw her would have had to have been an understatement. Seeing the first few dancers appear on the stage was crazy enough, but when she appeared, he was wide mouthed in amazement. Never had he thought that this was where she had disappeared off to. He spied a discarded program on the floor by his foot and leant down, swiftly picking it up. Written in delicate cursive across the cover were the words 'Madame Butterfly'. Opening up the program he was shocked as he read the first line of casting.

Butterfly - Principle Dancer, Hermione Granger

Their soft chatter could be heard over the music and through the door. He waited for the opportune moment there, listening to the pointless murmurs that they said to each other, not the type of words one would recite during their last few moments alive.

He became enthralled with the story of Butterfly and her husband, Pinkerton. Hermione was enchanting in her dance, insane and naïve in her devotion to him. She looked slightly absurd with her gleaming mahogany hair adorned in the traditional Japanese geisha makeup, but he thought her beautiful anyway. He felt her pain as Butterfly longed for her husband. He felt her anger and sorrow when she realized that while he had come back to her, he had not come back for her. He watched as her dance became more and more crazed, that of a woman pulled to the brink of despair.

He knew that right at this moment the man would be leaning over to kiss his wife softly on the lips. The man always did at this point in the song. Last week, it had been discovered that it was during this song the man had proposed; at this exact moment they had shared their first kiss as fiancés. He smirked, thinking of how he had learned it was exactly 30 years since that day. His hand gripped at the cool metal of the door knob, carefully, quietly, turning it.

He watched as Butterfly grew even more desperate. As she sent away her maid and the other unwanted guests. She seized the long silver blade off the table in the room and his heart began beating quickly as she danced with it, her feet moving faster and faster to the beat of the music.

Quickly and swiftly he wrenched open the door to the kitchen, his wand already pointed straight at the embracing couple. The middle aged woman screamed as the wand came only a few mere inches from her neck. The man's arms clutched at her protectively, but his own expression one of utter horror and fear.

Faster and faster Butterfly danced, Hermione brandishing the sword about in a destructive dance.

A crackle as the radio died from the presence of the magic.

A sudden silence in the theatre as the music stopped.

A few whispered words.

A deadly slash of the blade.

A flash of green.

Her body falling limply on the stage.

Their bodies collapsing onto the table, lifeless.

All goes black as the curtain falls.

All goes black as the lights are extinguished.

Applause rips through the theatre as he quietly makes his way out before the house lights flip on.

The silence is screaming as he quietly makes his way out of the room, casting a quick spell over his shoulder. An eerie green serpent coils out of the skull's mouth.

Without a word, Draco Malfoy steps out onto the street.

Without a word, Lucius Malfoy steps out onto the street.

-Fini-