It has always been said that war is just another excuse for men and women to kill each other. It is the battle ground of racist, terrorist and lovers; radicals, assassins and spies.
Yet, not all wars are fought with guns, wands and blood. Some wars are fought with the heart and mind.
These wars test the weak and the strong, in mind and body. It test the wills of men and weakness the have in falling into temptation.
But the biggest test of all in war is where loyalties lie. In in war, there are only to loyalties. To ones heart, or to ones death...
"Impedimenta!! Try harder, Draco!!! No, no, NO!!! Stop looking at the attacker and start looking at the target!!!" Again, Draco did as he was told, holding up his wand and concentrating, again, the same results as last time. Snape, frustrated beyond measure, shoved Draco to the ground and made his way back up to the castle, leaving the exhausted young man to himself.
For the last month, after recovery, Draco had submerged himself in rigorous training to get his mind off his memories. But, as his speech was still not what it should be, and his mind not where it should be either, all his teachers, whether training or not, were becoming increasingly tired of his inability to work. He had become distant in mind, never paying attention in class and therefore getting grades that were unusual of him. He drew attention from students and teachers, even though they already knew what happened to him. But nobody seemed to want to let it go.
After all, he was a Death Eater living around innocents.
Not that it bothered people much anymore. He was constantly under watch by a Ministry guard that stalked him everywhere, as Dumbledore had refused to let the Ministry take him while he was recovering from his trauma.
Draco gave a laugh that sounded like somebody yakking and stood, looking around for his guard. Ah, there you are, he thought to himself, spotting the man next to the lake, watching him carefully. Pocketing his wand, he spat at the man and began walking up to the castle. The guard followed him at a safe distance and when they entered the castle, he took Draco's wand and disappeared. It was dinner anyway. As Draco limped into the Great Hall, he was stopped by a small group of people. Looking up at them, his lip curled.
Blaise Zambini, his best friend, Ginny "Red" Weasley, Blaise's girlfriend, Ronald Weasley, Red's stupid brother, and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Brilliant.
"What da 'ell do you wan?" Draco snapped out, cringing inwardly at his words. He was sensitive about talking and only did around these four. Not even. Ginny glanced behind him, tossing her red hair.
"We saw your training," she commented and he spat at her too. He saw Ron clench his fist but keep his head. That's how it had to be. Draco was unpredictable in his actions towards them and they had to deal with that, even if it meant being slightly bruised. Ginny merely wiped her face and continued. "You really need to stop. It's not going to help you, Draco. It's making you worse." Draco limped past her and stomped over to the almost deserted Slytherin table.
Ever since the incident with Draco, Death Eaters had pulled their kids out of school so that nothing similar happened to them. Draco sat down, smothered in anger and then flipped his plate into the air with a moan of anger. The four students sat down with him as several students looked over, shaking their heads. Harry eyed him critically.
"You're acting like an idiot."
"Screw you," Draco spat. That was the first phrase he learned upon regaining his speech. As he continued to fume, he noticed the looks he was getting from several girls. It was no secret that he wasn't as good looking as he used to, but he was looking better than before. His face held less scars, though the eyepatch remained. His hair was dyed platinum blonde so that it didn't look miss-matched with the tuffts of grey/brown hair. There was nothing to be done about the limp, nor the small chunk of skin missing from his arm, but most girls agreed that he now sported a 'ruggedly handsome' persuasion. Not that he cared. Girls were just another thing he tried not to think about. It pained him too much.
"Malfoy!" Ron snapped and Draco turned his good eye on him.
"Wha?" Ron nodded to the Daily Prophet that was set in front of him. Glancing at the headline, he grunted and shoved it back to Ron. "So?"
"So?" Ron looked shocked. "So? You're name is all over this attack!!" Ginny grabbed the paper.
"Hogwarts Housing Murderer," she read. "Known Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, is known to be being sheltered at the world known Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Should parents be concerned about the saftey of their children in the presence of this man? Headmaster Dumbledore said in a press conference that Draco Malfoy is being held for recovery and nothing more, but several have already posed questions on whether or not Dumbledore is housing more Death Eaters inside his school. Is it possible that this Dumbledore that all have known and reviered is siding with You-Know-Who? This is rubbish! How can they even assume that Dumbledo-"
"Oh shup, Red," Draco snarled, standing. The Great Hall was starting to close in on him and he needed to get to a wider area. "I'm outside." With that, he limped out. Ginny watched him and sighed, tears coming into her eyes.
"I'm so worried about him," she whispered. "With the way he's going, he'll end up killing himself, and we can't afford two deaths this year. Merlin, I wish Hermione was here. I miss her so much." She choked and Blaise wrapped a careful arm around her, noticing the warning look from Ron. Harry lifted up his cup and sighed.
"We all miss her, Ginny," he whispered. "It's going to be hard getting through this war without her..." Ron nodded silently, and shook his head.
"I can't believe she's really..." Ginny's sob halted him and he rested his head on the table, tearing up as well.
He sat next to the lake, staring out over the still surface. He didn't want to think, but thoughts came to him, causing him to close his eyes.
Draco...
Immediately, his eyes flew open. "No," he grunted. "No." He refused these thoughts. They weren't doing him any good, but letting them fester wasn't doing him any good either. He hated them.
For the five days after waking in the hospital wing, he had submerged himself in pain, grief and tears, refusing to talk to anyone while wrath and pain swallowed him whole. He had let memories wash over him like a fountain and watched as images of what could never be broke forth, leaving him to his sobs of agony and hatred for himself.
After those five days, he threw himself into his recovery and training, refusing to dwell on his heart.
"Draco," came Snape's voice. Draco didn't turn around as the man sat down next to him. "You'll get points taken off for being out here after hours." Draco grunted and made a rude gesture. Snape laughed and they fell silent. "Draco, what do you plan to do with your life?"
"'ou men after I go to Azkaban?" he grumbled.
"No. I mean what do you plan to do with your life if you don't go to Azkaban. You can't wear that ring forever." Draco looked down and for the first time in a month, realized he was wearing his wedding band on his hand. Fingering it, he shrugged, eyes shut.
"I hate remembering...It hurts."
"It'll hurt more the longer you don't."
"Why don' you go ta hell? I don' 'ave time for your philisophical bullshit."
"First of all, you need to practice a bit more on you speaking. Second of all, it's not bullshit. It's the truth. And the longer you hide from it, it'll end up killing you."
"The truth already killed me. Or I killed et...her...see, ya go me..." But he could not continue. Memories, jerked into existance by his words, flooded into his mind, attacking his heart and invading his soul. Tears ran down the right side of his face and he put his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Severus watched him in silence as the young man let down his guard, like he did every night, and let his broken heart run down his face and into the ground. It happened every night. Severus brought up the subject so that Draco could let out the pain he was keeping inside of him so that, in the long run, Draco would't go totally insane. There was a war going on and Draco would need his sanity if he would face what was to be hurled at him.
Her eyes fluttered open and she shivered at the cold. Pulling the rags closer around her, she curled into a ball next to the wall, shutting her eyes to the cool breeze that blew through the alleyway that she lay in. Voices from the street floated towards her but she ignored them, trying to fall back asleep, but her grumbling stomach did not allow for it. Finally, she stood behind the dumpster and stretched, still shivering from the cold weather. Her clothes were tattered and frayed at the ends, with spots of blood dotting them. Her shoes were strips of cloth torn from what had been left of her robes and her hands also wrapped in cloth. Her hair hung down, lifeless and dull, in front of her face, whipping around her when a breeze came. Her body was frail, though someone could mistake her for slightly poochy. But it wasn't pooch, or an eating disorder, that affected the young woman.
It was pregnancy.
Moving along the alleyway slowly, she quickly tried to remember what happened yesterday.
Oh, that's right, she thought bitterly. The same thing you've been doing for as long as you can remember...which isn't much...
Shaking her head, she reached the street and glanced around. It was pretty early, so London was mostly quiet, which was what she liked. People didn't notice her as much. Entering the main sidewalk, she kept her head down and headed towars the nearest bakery. She knew it would be closed at this time, but the man who owned it always gave her something for the mornings. She reached the shop and stood outside, watching silently as a petit woman in an apron placed little pastries on the window shelves. The woman looked up and, upon catching sight of the woman outside, smiled and motioned her in. The door gave a ring as she came inside, glad to be out of the cold.
"Good morning, Elly," the petit woman greeted as the street woman rubbed her hands together. Elly looked up, smiling wanly.
"Good morning, Nicole. How are you today?" Nicole shrugged as she began putting some rolls into a brown paper bag.
"Ok. Arnold has a cold, so Hillary is coming in. How are you?" Elly snorted.
"Cold, pregnant and cold." Nicole sighed.
"Still don't remember anything?" Elly shook her head.
"Not a thing. I had a weird dream last night about people on dreams, like witches, but only there were boys too. It was strange. I don't know. Maybe I belong in an insane asylum."
"Don't say that!" Nicole scolded. "I'm sure you'll find out sooner or later. I've heard concussions are fickle things. It might take a while for your memory to come back."
"I'm not even sure it was a concussion," Elly muttered. "There wasn't a bump or anything."
"No, there were terrible bruises and gashes and other unmentionable things that covered you. You're lucky Arnold found you like he did, or you might not be alive. Who ever dumped you off there tortured you bad, poor dear." Elly shrugged.
"I've gotten over that well enough," she told her. "It's more this thing attached to me." At that, she motioned to her bump. "I'd like to know how it got there."
"Well, we found you with a ring around your neck," Nicole said as the door rang once more and a tall, plump woman hustled in, carrying a covered basket. "Hello, Hillary. You remember Elly?" Hillary looked up and smiled widely at Elly.
"Yes, yes! Elly! The girl from the alleyway, glad to see you so plump!" Elly laughed.
"Well, we were just discussing that. I'd like to know who gave me this bump." Hillary put the basket on the counter and shook a finger at the younger woman.
"Time, my dear. All in God's good time. Don't fret, all will come to you when it's supposed to. Right now, why don't you go upstairs and change into some nice clothes. Nicole should have something your size. You'll work here today. I don't want you out there while it's so cold, you'll catch your death." Elly gave a grateful smile and headed upstairs. Nicole watched her leave and shook her head, smiling.
"Bless her heart," she said. "Poor girl has no idea who she is, can't remember her past or anything. It's a sad business, but she's a good girl about it." Hillary nodded.
"She is. Hope someone's looking for her. Imagine being dumped in an alleyway with no one to love you."
"Oh, with that face and that personality, someone loved her. She was married. Look, I still have her ring." Nicole opened a drawer and took out a box. Opening it, she smiled. Inside held a platinum/gold slim wedding band. On the inside was etched a snake and a lion. "Someone loved her. I just hope that someone finds her."
Ok, so the title was do to popular demand, but it can change if you, as the reader, want it to. All you have to do is review. Oh, and if the first chapter sucked, than it's because I can't do starting chapters, just like my first one in Rings of Marriage. Any who...
Merry Christmas!!