When the Past Catches Up with You...

When the Past Catches Up with You...

Chapter 1 - Doubts

It was a cloudy day in autumn and the rain drummed against the tiles on the roof. In Ron Weasley's house in a small town outside of London, the wind whistled through the empty rooms. A blaze crackled in the fireplace of the living room, giving the room a cosy atmosphere. In the leather armchair by the fireside sat Ron, he gazed lost in thought at the flames.

The spot by the fireplace had always been his favourite one. Already at the time in Hogwarts he relished the reassuring roar of the flames, the low crackle of burning wood and the changing colours of the fire. Here he could always relax and arrange his thoughts.

On days such as these, when the sunlight could not find it's way through the clouds and the storm whipped the rain against the windows, Ron preferred nothing more than to make himself comfortable in his favourite place. It was the perfect opportunity to do nothing at all.

Lately he sat often in his armchair. In Autumn he always found himself musing over every detail of his life, the effect of snuggling down into his favourite chair in front of the fire. Most times he sat reading a book as a way of diverting his thoughts away from his life. More often than not, even the words on the page ceased to have meaning and his thoughts would drift away again and again.

'I shouldn't really brood so much. It serves no purpose to dwell on what cannot be. Besides, I won't find any solution.'

Suddenly the door to the hall flew open and Ron's fiancée Hermione Granger came into the room. She crossed ver to him and said "Darling, I'll go now." She sat down on the armrest of his chair.

Ron was startled and looked at her. "What?"

"I said: I'll go now. You must remember that I wanted to visit my parents over the weekend." Hermione looked a little disconcerted at the expression on his face, that, and she was pretty annoyed that Ron couldn't be persuaded to come along.

Ron thought back to the discussion they had a few days ago. He had tried to explain to her that he needed this weekend before his departure, so that he could relax. A family meeting was rather inconvenient for him at this time. Hermione was quite frantic. She was convinced that just his departure would be a good enough reason for spending the weekend together. Ron agreed with her but didn't really want to spend his free time with more people than necessary. He had suggested her spending the weekend together at home. Hermione could visit her parents the following weekend.

That had been too much for her. Hermione had begun to cry and grumble reminding him that the weekend was her parents' thirtieth wedding anniversary. In the end Hermione left to be alone in her work room while Ron stormed from the house inflamed with rage and went to the nearest pub. Both of them were very on edge in the following days, only exchanging the most necessary of words with one another. Neither Ron nor Hermione were good at giving in.

"RON! Are you listening to me at all?" Her voice tore Ron away from his thoughts. He looked at Hermione somewhat agitated. "I mean, if you want to come by eventually..."

"I don't think so. I have yet to prepare some things for Monday. Enjoy yourself and send your parents my best regards," Ron replied somewhat distractedly. Hermione's expression clouded again.

"'til Sunday evening," she said quite frigid and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, with that she apparated.

Ron sighed. He really could do with this free weekend. At the moment it wasn't working out between him and Hermione. They had been together for four years now. But recently their relationship had waned.

Ron thought of the time briefly after their graduation. Harry, Hermione and he had all gotten jobs at the Ministry.

Harry had started his Auror training, which he had completed quite recently. When his friend's workload permitted, he would sometimes play Quidditch for the Tutshill Tornados, in the British and Irish League. Thus he was away a lot and had barely any time for a restful evening with his old friends.

Ron liked to think of Harry. He was married to his sister Ginny and was to become a father soon. Ron smiled. He looked forward to becoming an uncle. Harry and Ginny had asked him and Hermione if they would like to be godparents, but they both had refused, not ready to accept such a responsibility. They both had to get their own lives under control first.

Hermione... She had been spoilt for choice after her graduation. The Ministry had offered her a job as Auror which she refused immediately. Alternatively they had offered her a job in the spell research department.

But there had still been the offer from Hogwarts. After Albus Dumbledore had become Minister of Magic, Minerva McGonagall succeeded him as headmistress. And thus the position as teacher for Transfigurations had become free. Hermione had the best qualifications for the job.

But in the end she decided in favour of the research position. She had always been eager to learn and she preferred to remain in her element. Hermione was exceptional in her occupation - the very best. In the meantime she was often snowed under with so much work that she spent less and less time at home. The offer from Hogwarts was still available and was ever more appealing to her. She constantly sought after new challenges. Professor McGonagall had still not found a worthy successor. Either the teachers did not emerge as sufficiently qualified or they left the school for other reasons.

Ron had to smile. It seemed that there was always one position at Hogwarts which appeared to be cursed. Finally they had found a teacher for "Defense Against the Dark Arts" who was staying for more than only one year. But they already had problems with another position to fill. Apparently nothing really ever changed.

Ron breathed deeply. He liked to think back to his time at Hogwarts. They had experienced a lot and many of it had not been pleasant. Nevertheless it had been memorable years- years of friendship. But now they all stood in the middle of the war and nothing of it had remained much longer. How the years had changed them all.

Ron was also often away from home recently. He had a job at the Department of Magical Transportation and because of the upcoming Quidditch World Cup in Romania he had to go abroad many times and make preparations. On Monday he would travel to Romania again, he'd be gone for a few weeks to supervise the last precautions.

But there was another reason for his presence at the World Cup. Next to his job at the Ministry he worked as a strategic adviser for the Order of the Phoenix. His abilities had often helped them to avoid assaults on the Ministry. Also he had arranged planned attacks at the Death Eater structure, which had all been met with great success. He had become an important link between the Order and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

International cooperation was also an important assignment for Ron. An international consortium for the safety of the Quidditch World Cup was being founded to which Ron belonged to. Security during the championship lay in his hands. There would be Aurors positioned at various entrances, guarding especially critical points like the accommodations for the teams and the ministries. They had assigned Ron with the task of planning the routes for transportation. He was to maintain the high level of safety at this point and catch any potential assassins before the start of the cup. The consortium had complete trust in him.

Admittedly, he enjoyed the challenge; it beat hands down his rather easy desk-job. In the last years relatively few changes had been made concerning the transportation of wizards and work was a bit boring for Ron's taste. Also the job for the Order had become less. The war seemed to have taken a break and that was quite dangerous in Ron's eyes. You never knew when the next attack was imminent and as far as he was concerned people were tending to think too fast that they were safe.

Ron didn't feel like agonising about his job. His private problems gave him enough to think about at the moment. In the meantime he was asking himself if his relationship with Hermione made sense at all anymore or if they were together only out of pure habit. They only saw each other occasionally, preferring to each go their own separate paths. When they were together, it ended with more quarrelling which only meant more frustration.

He often wished he had someone to talk with about such personal things. Since he had been with Hermione he couldn't talk to her about such things, like he had in former times. She always took things immediately to heart. However she often regarded the things no longer objectively and felt like she was being attacked.

Harry was impossible to talk too. When they saw each other at a meeting of the Order or when it has something to do with the Ministry, personal talks never quite got off the ground, sometimes not at all. Harry had very strange opinions. His relationship with his sister Ginny had quite changed him. He spent each free minute at home - which was great in view of the fact that Ginny would soon give birth to their child, but as for his friends there was barely room in his life.

Thinking of Harry and Ginny gave Ron an idea. With his sister he could in fact always talk openly. She listened to him, spoke to him straightforwardly and often she had the right words at the ready. She didn't judge him but treated him as a friend rather than a sister. And for that he was more than thankful.

With her he felt always at home, particularly after the rest of his family went somewhat to pieces. Everyone had their own lives, so the once frequent family meetings amounted only to the holidays or special occasions. Ron was still nonetheless permanently in contact with Ginny.

'Hmmm... Perhaps I should really hook up with her again.'

Still lost in thought he searched for the bowl with the Floo Powder.

^~~^~~^~

The light of the full moon made his sallow face appear even paler. A black clothed figure sat under a tree next to a great lake, near a little village somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. Silvery strands of hair were tossed by a moderate breeze, concealing the view of his steel-grey eyes.

Draco Malfoy had wandered through the Scottish Highlands for some days. In the daylight he didn't dare to fly, lest he be seen. There was little protection from forests. He tried to fly further distances at nightfall, to make up for the lost ground he made in the day. However he couldn't move too fast in case he missed an important clue.

He was searching for something...

Night had fallen and he knew that it was futile to move on yet. Too many dangers lurked in the darkness. He would surely miss something if he moved on now. Draco chose to make his camp in this spot. He had found an uninhabited cave and was grateful that it was big enough to protect him from being found. The added use of a guarding spell meant nothing and nobody could seek him out there - he would be safe.

The night was too clear for spending it in a cave. The twinkle of the stars weaved its own specific magic on Draco. Therefore he decided to stay outside for a while and plan his next steps.

Until now he still hadn't found any clues and slowly he began to have doubts as to the accuracy of his father's old books. Would they lead him to his destination at all...?

'... the black diamond...'

He thought back to the last few months...

Because of Lucius and the Death Eaters, Draco had access to many rare and often illegal things like prohibited books. Since his graduation from Hogwarts he had become an "unofficial" member of Voldemort's followers. During the preparations for a new attack at the Ministry, he had come across a note about a strong source of power.

Draco didn't tell anyone of this and researched it further in private. He discovered that this source of power, in the form of a black diamond, could bequeath the owner very useful abilities - control on the forces of nature. Additionally it would protect its owner through a combination of these forces. An aura encircled the one who controlled the diamond.

But this was not so simple because you couldn't use the gem without giving his powers to one or more persons through an activating-spell. Despite everything, he had to find the diamond first of all. That turned out to be more difficult than he had guessed at the beginning of his journey.

He had found a sort of map, in an old book "Forgotten Legends of the Celts", which hopefully would lead him to more information.

'The whole thing evolves into a bloody paper chase. I only hope that I don't have to stay here forever searching for it.'

Draco wasn't planning on bringing the diamond to Voldemort or his father. He loathed the Dark Lord and his megalomaniac personality. And he wished his father dead for years. But he had found it wiser not to turn his back on them for the time being, it was his pure instinct of self preservation kicking in. Luck would have it he hadn't received the Dark Mark as yet. Instead he had pretended to be a valuable spy at the opposition. Without the Mark they couldn't foist something upon him. Voldemort had accepted his excuse offhand, particularly since Draco had many a time proven his "loyalty".

No, he wanted the diamond for himself. He wasn't attached to either side, neither to Voldemort nor to his opponents. He was mindful only of his own well-being. He wanted to know how it felt to have real power. It was that lust for dominance that propelled him onward. Thus, he could arrange his life to that what he most desired, without having to be considerate of anyone.

Draco fingered the silver snake pendant of his necklace, his thoughts wandered back into the past, to a time in which he wasn't yet confronted with the reality of the war.

Hogwarts had always provided him with a home. There he could be himself, far away from the repression by his father's rules. Summer holidays had always been torture for him and the pressures of his father's expectations grew with each passing year. He could never please him and Lucius let him know how much he had failed the Malfoy name at every opportunity. Draco sometimes dreamt about the torture he endured at the hands of his father. The physical abuse he could stand, it was Lucius' psychological games that had broken him in the end. Draco had been conditioned early on in his childhood and had promptly adapted to his fathers views.

That was a long time ago. Since then, he had purged himself of his father's poisonous parenting and strived to live on his own terms. Draco still found he craved revenge for everything Lucius had done to him; he knew his time would come.

Hogwarts had been different. There he had found what his parents couldn't give him or in the case of Narcissa hadn't been allowed to. A home, a family and the feeling of being truly of value. Everything that he couldn't get at Malfoy Manor, security, friendship, love...

All of that had been abruptly over after he had graduated. Of course, his father had expected him to step into his footprints. His fit of rage had been the worst when he found out that Draco didn't intend to take his expected place in the ranks of the Death Eaters. His work room resembled a battle ground afterwards. When Lucius finally brought him to Voldemort, Draco was all the more astonished that the Dark Lord understood his arguments better than his own father.

Draco suggested to Voldemort that he could work as a spy at the opposite side. He brought forward several arguments why it would be better not to receive the Dark Mark. The most important in his eyes was that it would be simply more believable. Regardless of how easily it might have been to hide the Mark, he knew many members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry were aware of most of the camouflage spells available and would eventually uncover the Mark if he had one. Surprisingly, the Dark Lord agreed with him and accepted his suggestion. Oh, he could remember very well the facial expression on his father, rage almost jumped out of his eyes. If Voldemort himself hadn't agreed with Draco, Lucius would have probably placed many hexes upon him that he would have eventually craved death.

That is the story how Draco had begun his employment as a spy. Severus Snape had introduced him into the Order. Severus and Draco were aware of each other's role as spy and consequently the war holds the balance. They didn't betray one another, instead they respected each others role in this war. However they avoided purposely having too much contact with each other.

Draco had almost considered working as a double-spy but consistently he had decided against it. No matter how contemptuous he was of Voldemort's ideas, his feelings towards Albus Dumbledore were not much better. It seemed to him that he was the only one who understood the pros and cons of both sides of the war.

Draco took a deep breath of the clear night air.

'This is not the right moment for thinking about the war.'

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore these unpleasant thoughts. He needed to keep a level head if he wanted to be successful on his quest. He might become distracted and that may be the death of him, he had to be on his guard all the time. No error was allowed to happen to him at this juncture.

For a few minutes Draco sat leaning against the trunk of the tree, with his eyes closed, he tried to empty his mind. For a short period he managed to do so as well. But suddenly there were these blue eyes, blue like the ocean is deep, with a twinkle that can eclipse even the stars.

'If he ever... No, definitely not... Now where everything had changed.'

Draco opened his eyes and shook his head to get rid of the picture. In another time and place he would have welcomed such thoughts, but here was neither the right time nor the right place.

'Too many memories for one night...'

THAT was the last thing he needed - feelings. Maybe he would act on these thoughts after he had found the diamond - when everything was over.

Maybe...