Descent into Darkness

****

"IÂ’m very sorry Mr Malfoy, your FatherÂ’s dead."

Harry swearing loudly and creatively broke the stunned inertia that followed. Draco was oddly calm. He stood with assured, aristocratic command. "This is it," he intoned quietly. With steel eyes he regarded the assembled mass and said with finality, "this is where it begins."

The silence that fell after DracoÂ’s declaration was thick with apprehension. Younger students appeared in the doorways that led up to the dormitories, blinking sleepily. With a single glance the first of them seemed to understand the situation, and passed the news back to their classmates. Harry saw Seamus creeping up behind the Slytherins, gesturing to let him know that the door-lock charms had failed. Yeah, thanks mate, thought Harry absently.

Draco stood perfectly still and regarded the room indifferently. "Fellow Slytherins," he said, his voice carrying easily though the large room, "over the many years we have known each other I have come to regard you asÂ… people IÂ’ve met."

"Draco," Pansy said anxiously, "WeÂ’re a team, weÂ’ll get you though this."

Draco turned on her with wide, manic eyes, "Yes, and there is no ‘I’ in ‘team’." He nodded vigorously, "but there is an ‘M’ and an ‘E’."

Ron came running in, hastily pulling a shirt over his naked torso, "Draco! Draco, I heard, IÂ’m so sorry, I - " He stopped abruptly as he felt the full force of DracoÂ’s glare.

"My Father," snarled Draco, "Is dead, and youÂ’re sorry?"

Ron stammered, "I- well, I didn’t… I only just heard and – oh I didn’t mean to - "

"Leave, just go." He turned away and spoke harshly, "I donÂ’t want to see you anymore. It just isnÂ’t working out."

Ron felt his heart contract; he looked with huge eyes at the tableau around the common room. Harry glared fiercely at the ground, Snape with one eyebrow raised suspiciously, stared from Harry to Draco and then to Ron, and finally the assorted Slytherins cramming through the doorway, gazing with deadened eyes at their leader. Their leader was a fallen prince with psychotic eyes, currently muttering furiously and pulling out strands of his silky blond hair.

Snape stepped towards him, "Mr Malfoy" he said carefully, "If I might have a quiet wordÂ…"

Draco looked back at him blankly, "Did that go well, do you think? No? Which phrase in particular?"

At that moment McGonagall arrived, looking remarkably formidable despite wearing a tartan dressing gown and hairnet ensemble. Hermione followed her in.

"Professor Snape," she began, "I believe you may be able to assist me."

Snape frowned, "If youÂ’re referring to your missing students, I would be happy to take them off your hands."

"Not at all Professor, I will see them back to Gryffindor and we can sort out a suitable punishment in the morning."

Snape grunted in reply and turned back to Draco.

"Mr Potter, Mr WeasleyÂ… and Mr Finnigan." McGonagall smiled grimly as Seamus stepped into view, "Come along then."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded undiscernibly. He followed Seamus out of the common room.

"You too, Mr Weasley," snapped McGonagall.

There was an awkward pause, as Ron seemed not to hear. Hermione caught his hand and half-pulled him into the corridor. She glanced back and saw that the Slytherins had not moved and looked utterly destroyed.

****

The journey back to Gryffindor was unremarkable. They stopped outside the portrait hole. Professor McGonagall glared at each of them in succession; Seamus reprovingly, Harry gravely, Hermione disappointedly and Ron thoughtfully. "Alright then," she said at last, "Mr Weasley, you may go. You three, with me please."

Harry, Hermione and Seamus followed her in silence to her office. Harry remembered the other times he had ended up in the exact same place after sneaking out at night. But things were different, they were older nowÂ… and Ron was not with them.

"Well," McGonagall said crisply, "A little while ago I came across Miss Granger here casting some highly advanced magic and Ginny Weasley in a somewhat altered state. Would anyone like to make a comment at this point?"

"WhereÂ’s Ginny?" Seamus ventured, "Is she alright?"

McGonagallÂ’s expression softened slightly, "SheÂ’s in the infirmary being well looked after."

"Oh." Seamus exhaled with relief, "Thanks."

"ThatÂ’s quite alright Seamus, although I might ask you why you didnÂ’t take her there yourselves."

She was met with blank stares from Seamus and Hermione. Harry was withdrawn and stared moodily into the middle distance. She leant back into her chair and drummed her fingertips impatiently on the desk. She stopped and looked up at a sharp knock on the door. Snape entered and nodded curtly at McGonagall in greeting.

"Mr Potter," Harry was jolted back to reality as Snape fixed him with a particularly unpleasant stare, "About your little midnight trip to SlytherinÂ…" Harry stared back impassively. Snape narrowed his eyes, "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office on Monday morning."

"Professor Snape," McGonagall protested, "Surely the Head doesnÂ’t need to speak to Mr Potter personally - "

"Perhaps you should know, Professor McGonagall," Snape cut in, "Lucius Malfoy was killed by some Aurors earlier tonight."

Disbelief, consternation and resignation crossed her face in an ambivalent haze. "Oh, how terrible," she said automatically, but Hermione could see her mind working furiously through the possible implications of the news.

"Of course, weÂ’re all very concerned by this unfortunate event." Snape said insipidly. His dark eyes fixed on Harry again as he added, "IÂ’ve put Mr Malfoy in a disused dungeon to recover."

"A dungeon?" Professor McGonagall looked perturbed, "Surely thatÂ’s a bit - "

"Draconian?" Snape looked back at Macgonagal. "I felt a room without any valuable furniture might be a good idea." SnapeÂ’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly, "Mr Malfoy is in a somewhat destructive mood."

McGonagall obviously understood the implication, leading Harry to wonder whether something like this had happened before. She stood, "ThatÂ’s all for now, return to your rooms and be thankful itÂ’s Sunday tomorrow."

Snape and McGonagall left together and walked quickly in the opposite direction. Harry watched them go, "TheyÂ’re going to see Dumbledore."

"Now? It must be serious then." Seamus speculated with interest but allowed Hermione to steer him and Harry back towards Gryffindor. "You were in there ages, Harry. What did you find out?"

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily, "Way too much, I havenÂ’t quite made sense of it all yet." He summarised what Draco had told him.

"So the Slytherins are basicallyÂ… alright?" Seamus could not bring himself to say, "good". "Yeah right, and IÂ’m a Niffler!"

"Just because they seem a bit shady doesnÂ’t mean theyÂ’re evil." Hermione said reasonably.

Seamus grinned, "Yes it does."

"IÂ’m sold!" said Harry. He sobered as they climbed through the portrait hole. "What it means is that Lucius MalfoyÂ’s death is not as good as it might sound. For one thing it marks Draco out as the son and heir of a Deatheater, bound to take up his legacy. But I got the impression that the Slytherins had a helping hand in causing his death, something I imagine Voldemort would be none to happy about."

"So is that why Malfoy went a bitÂ… psycho?" Seamus asked none too tactfully.

"Yeah. If he doesnÂ’t join them he risks exposing the other Slytherins who would probably be disowned, disinherited and dismembered as a result."

Hermione nodded, "I think youÂ’re right. I never even thought something this big could be happening right here in Hogwarts."

Seamus frowned, "But why isnÂ’t Malfoy packing up and shipping out to get the latest in skull tattooing?"

Harry didnÂ’t respond. Hermione said gently, "Because of Ron. ItÂ’s not a simple choice, Seamus. He would have to be completely devoted to the cause and, while he might have been willing to do that if it was just about giving the others more time to fight back, Ron has changed him. He doesnÂ’t want to lose him. "

"And thatÂ’s why heÂ’s all mad-eyed and straightjacketed. HeÂ’s not man enough to deal with it." Harry ended.

Hermione looked at him in surprise but his expression didnÂ’t soften, "Look Herm, he might be brave and noble and all the other pointless abstract nouns you want to decorate him with but right now it is a simple choice, Seamus is right."

"You donÂ’t knowÂ…" she shook her head. "Are you going to talk to Ron tomorrow?"

"No." Harry replied stubbornly, "I thought IÂ’d go to Hogsmeade and get really drunk. Failing that IÂ’ll rearrange my sock draw."

"ItÂ’s a tough choice," Seamus observed absently.

"Yes, IÂ’ll have to toss a coin and hope it explodes and kills me."

"Fine," she replied just as staunchly, "Then I will."

****

Hermione woke late the next morning and discovered that Harry had indeed gone to Hogsmeade and taken Seamus with him. She collected a jug of pumpkin juice and a plate of sandwiches from the ever-helpful Dobby and backed into the door of the boysÂ’ dormitory.

RonÂ’s bed was curtained off. Hermione set the food down on the bedside cabinet and unceremoniously pulled back the curtains. Ron sat fully clothed, curled up on the cover. He blinked in the sudden light. "What dÂ’you do that for?" he mumbled resentfully.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and examined him objectively. He was thinner then she remembered and looked drawn and tired. He hadnÂ’t shaved but his piercing eyes peering up through his tousled red hair made him seemed every inch the rebellious teenager. "How do you feel?" she asked. He blinked again in mock surprise to remind her of the last time she had had a heart to heart with him about Malfoy, when her approach had been less than level headed.

She handed him a glass of juice, which he held dejectedly. "I feelÂ… broken, but oddly calm." He drank the juice in one and gave her back the empty glass, "Although IÂ’m still thinking up complex metaphors to express my pain."

Hermione set the glass down, "Well, ‘calm’ was good."

She looked up to find him studying her pensively, "Yeah, it was either that or wailing hysteria and I didnÂ’t think that was very manly."

They sat in silence for a while as Ron shredded the crusts from the sandwiches. Then he broke the quiet with a tentative question, "Hermione, how did he find out, what made Harry storm Slytherin?"

Hermione thought back to the day before, which seemed like an age away, "We found Goyle breaking into the sixth year dormitories. He was leaving Ginny; sheÂ’d been knocked out by a sleeping spell. She was going to spy for him."

"Ginny?" Ron’s eyes widened and he spoke almost to himself, "Then I guess that was Draco’s way of ‘taking care of it’." He bit his lip, "I’m sorry ’Mione, I didn’t know he would do that. Is she alright?"

"SheÂ’s a bit shaken up," said Hermione truthfully, "SheÂ’ll mend. You will too."

The look on his face was enough to contradict her. Then a thought occurred to him, "Oh god, I bet McGonagallÂ’s going to contact my parents," Ron swore with annoyance.

"About you?"

Ron laughed suddenly, "And say what, ‘Hello Mr Weasley, we’re sorry to inform you that your son’s going through a bad break-up, with the spawn of your arch-enemy. So, how’s the Ministry?’ No, not about me, about Ginny. He had to pick her, didn’t he?" His smile had ebbed and he was sedate and reflective again. "I didn’t understand how Harry got in; I guess that’s where you come in. And what was Seamus doing there?"

"I helped Harry, IÂ’ve been working on some complex magic," she admitted, colouring slightly. "SeamusÂ… IÂ’m not sure how he got involved in it all. I think he likes Ginny."

RonÂ’s eyebrows flickered, "Really? I missed that one completely."

"YouÂ’ve missed a lot these past few months," Hermione said simply.

Ron checked his watch, which was a finer model then she remembered him having, "Five minutes until you got the first punch in, youÂ’re loosing your touch Â’Mione."

"Well, itÂ’s got to be said, hasnÂ’t it? So much has happened, IÂ’m not sure I know you now."

He shrugged, "I havenÂ’t changed that much. And IÂ’m back here now, arenÂ’t I?" He sank dispiritedly back against the pillows.

"I can guess where youÂ’d rather be," she said sadly, pushing his hair back.

Ron pushed her hand away. "He said that he couldnÂ’t bear to see me hurt, so when he broke my heart, do you think he closed his eyes?"

Hermione shook her head, "I donÂ’t know Ron, really I donÂ’t. If thereÂ’s one thing IÂ’ve learnt from all this itÂ’s that I didnÂ’t know Malfoy at all."

"Maybe he laughed."

"I donÂ’t think he can, heÂ’s so intense about everything."

"I think I made him laugh." Ron shut his eyes in anguish, "It shouldnÂ’t have happened, it was fucked up from the start!"

"Why?" She demanded with surprising force.

"HeÂ’s Draco Malfoy, Hermione. What on earth did he see in me?"

"Ron, for the last six years weÂ’ve hated Malfoy, because heÂ’s a conceited, pampered little rich boy. YouÂ’re honest, loyal and brave."

"No, you donÂ’t know him. HeÂ’s incredible, whatÂ’s heÂ’s been through with his Father, what heÂ’s managed to doÂ… And when heÂ’s not around it hurtsÂ… worse than a sickness."

She grabbed his hand desperately, "Ron, weÂ’ve seen Ginny, we know he been working the Imperius curse and dark magic; itÂ’s not your fault you feel like this."

Ron sat up and stared at her in astonishment, "You think thatÂ’s what this is?! This is beyond Imperius, or any magic, Hermione. I may not be scoring the highest NEWTs but I know what magic isÂ… and this isnÂ’t it." He sat back and murmured, "I canÂ’t explain it to you, try to put it into words. I couldnÂ’t believe it, I thought he was the embodiment of everything IÂ’ve learnt to hate. But itÂ’s over now."

Hermione thought for a bit, "Maybe itÂ’s the nature of all things to be pulled towards their opposites. Like Magnets, opposing forces. Because there is so much light in you Ron and he spends everyday fighting against darkness. But the thing isÂ… what heÂ’s trying to doÂ… itÂ’s impossible. You canÂ’t stop the sun from setting; you canÂ’t fight the inevitable. He doesnÂ’t want to drag you down with him."

Ron looked directly at her, his eyes clear with cold resignation, "ItÂ’s too late, IÂ’m already there."

****

The dungeon door creaked open and Snape squeezed through the narrow gap. The cell was stark and rarely used He picked silver spider webs from his cloak fastidiously and peered into the darkness. "Mr Malfoy," Snape began, addressing the hunched figure in the corner of the room, "I think this would be an opportune time to talk about your legacy."

"My duty, my destiny, my bloody palimony, his last sodding wish, the final fucking command, the - "

"Yes, so weÂ’ve establish that," Snape interjected smoothly. "Tell me Draco, will you be leaving us?"

DracoÂ’s head jerked up and his grey eyes shone like beacons in the darkness, "Join the Deatheaters!" he yelled, "Travel to exotic, distant lands. Meet exciting, unusual people, and kill them!" He laughed bitterly, "IÂ’d rather die."

"The you will die." Snape spat onto the slate, "And what a waste of my time you would have been." He stepped closer to DracoÂ’s corner. "When you came here you were a spoiled, precious little sod. I watched you grow into an arrogant, obsequious, slightly taller sod."

"Gosh, thanks" muttered Draco.

"And then, rather abruptly, things changed. You suddenly developed a passion for learning, for progressing that Dumbledore assured me was the result of my firm but fair tutoring. I have since discovered that you and your fellow Slytherins were in fact motivated by the indescribable fear of having your lives decided for you. Mr Malfoy, if you continue to act through fear then you will die. You need to fight for something else, dare I say it, something better. If you believe in something worthwhile then you will lose that fear."

"And what if I choose the Dark Lord? It is all I know."

"Then your Father will be very proud," replied Snape sardonically.

These words had the desired effect. Draco uncurled and sat with his back against the wall, "My Father," he began, his voice harsh and broken, "My Father beat me until I was 13. After that it was far subtler, it was verbal gibes, an emotional trigger he always threatened to pull. I never believed in anything better."

Snape crouched so that his eyes were level with DracoÂ’s. "You know you canÂ’t just opt out of joining him. YouÂ’ll have to fight against him, heÂ’ll target you specifically."

"Well, IÂ’ve spent most of my life dodging one dark and vicious father-figure anyway. IÂ’ve had more practice then most."

"But do you want to? Fight, I mean."

There was a long pause, "No," Draco replied in a monotone, "I really donÂ’t."

"Then you will be leaving us, we canÂ’t protect you now." Snape rose to leave.

"How long?" asked Draco, "How long before I have to leave?"

"That, Mr Malfoy, is up to you." Snape turned away. A shot of pain tore from the mark on his left forearm as he placed his hand on the metal door bolt. In a sudden moment of regression he realised that during the dark years he had been briefly resident in this very cell, as he fought to break the compulsive thrall of the Dark Lord.

"Wait!" DracoÂ’s voice resonated with familiar authority and conviction.

Snape turned back and saw that Draco had got to his feet. He regarded the slight young man dispassionately, "Yes?"

****

****

To be continuedÂ….