Starlight

Starlight

By Sharptongue31

Chapter One

You know the feeling of knowing you have to let go, knowing that all your hard work and efforts thus far will only go to waste? How you know that no matter what you do, in the end it won't matter because you just can't win? Knowing that there's a stronger Evil side than there is Good... there's nothing worse than that. But it happens, and sometimes, locked in Harry's arms, there was nothing I can do but wait until Voldemort made his next move. That battle is one I'll never forget, for more than one reason, but particularly for the way Harry fought, never giving up. It made me not only proud of him for his magical skills but for his perseverance, his determination to bring the world to Good.

But then, right when we all thought that he was going to lose, when he was pushed against the wall with his wand being held by Lucius Malfoy, something amazing happened. Voldemort turned around with a sick smirk on his face, as if he was proud of his achievement. Right then, something flew out of nowhere and hit him on the head, and for reasons unknown, he fell to the ground. We'll never be sure if the thing that hit him was really an untampered copy ofThe Quibbler, or if it had been enchanted to hurt a lot, or something else. All we know was that the moment it hit him, Harry slid out of his grip and grabbed his wand from Lucius Malfoy. That was when the duel started between he and Voldemort.

Guess who won.

Wrong. Harry won, but there was a 'catch.' A group of the Order - as well as D.A. - members who had been dueling the Death Eaters quickly raced over to help him, but he was so weak. Ginny, who had apparently known quite a bit of Healing magic, cleared the room of everyone but me and her. We tried reviving him, and eventually he did come to. But... his memory was gone. Don't panic. We gave him a potion that gave him the memories he missed, and he was as good as new. But he was missing something that could never be restored. He no longer had his trust of others, after seeing all that he had in the final battle.

Harry owed his life to someone, though nobody knew exactly who. Some say it was Ginny, for knowing the Healing that saved his life. Some say that it was me, for clearing the room of everyone else. And some say it was Luna, for throwing that copy of the Quibbler at Voldemort. Apparantly, Harry thinks that it was Ginny, because he abandoned me for her. "Sorry, Hermione," he said gently, "but I don't think we're meant for each other." And then perfect little Ginny wrapped her icy arm around his waist, and the rest, as they say, was history.

I knew that that only happened because she had always fancied him, and seeing him so weak caused her to show off. Maybe she did something to that Healing potion. Yeah, that's what I suspected, although doing so would be illegal.

That was the beginning of it. I filled with hatred, slowly, towards Harry. I refused to be anywhere near him for our remaining year at Hogwarts. Ginny, still sixteen and therefore in none of our classes, spent more time with him than I thought was humanly possible. In the common room, he always shared an armchair right in front of the fire with her. At mealtimes, she sat on his lap and they even used the same silverware. It was sickening. So, so, so, soooo sickening.

And as for Malfoy, he seemed to take pleasure in seeing me so miserable. At Quidditch matches, as Gryffindor was seated right next to Slytherin in the bleachers, he sat right near me and taunted me. "So, Granger, Potter abandoned you for Weaslette? Pity, pity. Even a mudblood like yourself would be better than a Weasley. Tell me, Granger, just how far did they get?"

That was it. I couldn't sit there and listen to his taunting. I grabbed him by the collar with my left hand and began pummeling him as hard as I could. I was about to knock his teeth out when he wrentched himself out of my grip and in turn grabbed me. He pulled me out of the stands, and for some reason nobody noticed. I fought to escape his grip but he was too strong. I was left to wonder why he walked around with those oafish bodyguards, because he was capable of doing anything. I suppose, as he would have said, "Malfoys aren't physically violent." Apparantly, however, doing magic was fine, because judging by the way he held his wand, he was prepared to hex me with every jinx known to man.

But he didn't. He pinned me against the wall, his face far too close to mine. The look in his eyes was enough to scare me out of my wits - full of loathing. I couldn't have known just how deep this situation was, but I sure knew that it would be difficult to overcome it. "Beg me to let you go," he ordered quietly. The entire corridor was empty, and I could tell that there was no way anyone would find us. If he decided to kill me, which he probably wouldn't, he would be able to.

"No way," I replied, my voice fifty times stronger and steadier than I felt. For the first time in my life, I knew that Harry wouldn't be there to get me out of trouble. "I have my wand too, you know." He slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out my wand. With a wave of his own wand, mine snapped in half. He promptly threw it out the window.

"Beg me," he repeated in a murmured tone. "Beg me to release you... or else." His midnight-black wand was sticking out of his shirt pocket, but I knew better than to grab for it. He was quicker than me. I saw no other solution to my problem.

"Please let me go," I said loudly. Clearly, that was not the kind of begging he had in mind, because he had his hand halfway to his pocket. Resigned, I adopted his murmur and whispered, "Let me go, Draco. Please."

He didn't respond. He shifted his neck, whether accidentally or on purpose I wasn't sure, but his hair appeared to be even shiner with the reflection of the torches. His silver eyes bored into my own plain brown ones. "More," was all he managed to whisper.

I don't know why I did it. I screamed, loudly enough for the people out on the Quidditch pitch to hear me. Maybe - I hoped - Harry might hear me. Quickly, he hissed, "Silencio!" I continued to try to scream, but it was no good. He was just as good as I was in magic, if not better, but he just didn't study as much.

I continued to attempt to scream as he dragged me towards the Slytherin dungeons.