Second Chance - Chapter One
This is chapter one of the first story in the SpaceQueenSara HP AU. I placed this here to entice you to give Second Chance a read as well as show my love for Drarry. I hope you enjoy what I have here and look forward to seeing you in the comments!
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It hurt to breathe.
It hurt to think.
Most of all, it hurt to lose Fred Weasley.
Fearing I'd shatter, I kept my gaze turned upward.
Dark clouds poured its tears upon the gathered crowd surrounding Fred's closed casket. It's rained since Voldemort's defeat—as if the very sky had torn itself open, weeping for the war's lost souls.
I was grateful for nature's cold liquid running down my flushed face. It made my misery look like nothing more than the weather. After all, I couldn't appear heart-broken and tormented by guilt in front of the masses, now could I?
Rita Skeeter stood amongst the crowd along with dozens of other journalists. They all waited for a chance to catch me in a weak moment for their so-called news columns. The gossip vultures were a constant, like the rain, hounding me when I left the safety of the Burrow.
"Fred was..." the round-faced Pastor continued speaking in his soothing tone.
A drop of water hit me in the eye, forcing me to look down. My gaze traveled along the tear-streaked faces of the redheaded Weasley clan. The tight-knit family huddled around Molly and George. The two clung to each other, tears poured down their grief-stricken faces.
I choked down a sob looking at the lone twin. The memory of the pranksters taking pity on me by giving me the Marauder's Map, flooded through my mind. They said my need was greater than theirs. From that moment on, I felt a bond with them.
It hit me like a punch in the stomach—I wasn't going to see Fred's mischievous smile while discussing his brilliant, hair-brained ideas anymore.
My gaze ran to the casket. More tears mixed with the rain and drizzled down my cheeks.
Jolts of electricity shot through my nerves, urging me to hop on my broom—leaving all the death and pain behind. Instead, I held tight to Hermione and Ginny.
Anger suddenly ripped through me.
Swallowing hard, I attempted to keep my breakfast down due to my extreme swing of emotions.
I fumed over Fred dying and leaving me heart-broken. I was enraged that Dumbledore—whom I considered a father figure—was murdered in front of me. And pissed off that Sirius was ripped away from me after having him in my life for so brief a time.
I knew it was selfish to feel like this, but I couldn't help it. After all, I killed the Dark Lord, keeping the world from being consumed by that Mad Wizard. Didn't I deserve to have my loved ones safe and sound? Or was that too much to ask?
I don't know when it happened, but the pastor's voice was no longer attempting to comfort us. Fred's casket lowered into the ground to become one with the earth. The black-clad figures drifted away in all directions, like ripples on a pond.
Tugging on my arm pulled me back to reality. "Come on, Harry."
I looked into Ginny's reddened eyes and allowed her to lead me towards the portkey.
Feeling dizzy, I felt like I was slowly drowning. An overwhelming feeling of being caged like a circus animal grabbed hold of me. I needed to breathe and get away as fast as possible.
Detaching Ginny from my arm, I said the first thing that came to mind, "I just remembered. Kingsley asked me to come in and provide some more clarification on a few things."
"Haven't you already given the Ministry everything they needed?" Ron frowned.
Shrugging, I said, "I'm sure it won't take too long."
"Harry, the last time you went off alone, you were attacked. It's dangerous for you with Death Eaters and Voldemort loyalists still running around. Not to mention, I saw Skeeter lurking earlier," Hermione said in her disapproving tone.
"I'll be fine. Besides, I wasn't too injured, a few scrapes and bruises is all."
I went to the grocers the day after the war because we'd run out of a few items at the Burrow. I'd decided to go alone, not realizing how dangerous it still was. Unfortunately, I was jumped by a group of people and got the crud beat out of me.
I'd given them a good fight and ended up hauling one of them into the Ministry. Still, Hermione insisted I not go off alone after that.
"Would you like me to go with you?" Ginny asked before blowing her nose into the yellow-flowered handkerchief she carried.
"No, thanks, Ginny." I looked at Mione. "I have my cloak, and I won't take it off until I arrive at the Ministry."
She tilted her head at me as if knowing that I was lying. "Okay, Harry. See you back at the Burrow."
"Be careful, mate," Ron said.
"Right. See you later." I slipped my invisibility cloak on and started wandering around the graveyard.
Within minutes the cemetery emptied of people. Only rain and the occasional bird call filled the air.
My sneakers splashed through a puddle as I passed Lavender Brown's resting place. That had been yesterday and the day before that had been two other solemnities.
Remus and Nymphadora Lupin's sizable blue-grey headstone caught my eye. I shook my head, not wanting to think about Teddy losing his parents at such a young age.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the smell of damp soil filling my nose. When I opened them again, the dark patches of freshly covered graves stood out amongst the rows and rows of headstones.
Unable to stop, grief spilled down my face. Allowing myself this moment, sobs shook my body down to my core.
Eventually, I wiped my face dry and my feet carried me towards the portkey.
Shocking white-blonde hair popped into view. The black clad wizard drew towards Fred's gravestone.
Recognizing Draco Malfoy, I felt the heat of anger rip through me and set my feet into motion. Storming towards the offender, I clenched my fists. I was going to forgo my wand and break his stupid, perfect nose as soon as I was within punching distance.
A lone white rose dropped from Malfoy's slender fingers. It lay amongst the other flowers gathered there.
I froze in shock. My vision must have faltered. I wondered if everything I'd endured over the last few years was finally getting the best of me.
The haughty Slytherin dressed without a single strand of hair out of place. But as I drew closer to him, the truth of his state was evident. He looked broken, defeated, and wasted—like he hadn't eaten much in months.
Malfoy's silver eyes shimmered as he mumbled to my friend's headstone.
Even though I couldn't make anything out, I knew he meant whatever it was that he was saying.
Placing his long, pale fingers on the gravestone, his slight frame shook. As it did, his tortured cry reached my ears.
His remorse was powerful, like a black-hole that sucked all the air from my lungs. My throat was desert dry and tears stung my eyes. I didn't know what to do as I felt my anguish over the loss of Fred mix with Malfoy's remorse.
A magnet locked onto my body and pulled me closer to the dark-clad blonde. I don't know why—maybe to bring me comfort by being kind—but I wanted to tell Malfoy everything was going to be okay.
I froze mid-stride when realizing that my shaking hand was almost touching Draco Malfoy. I had no right to interfere. He was here to grieve or make peace and he'd come alone. It made me wonder how much he'd changed.
Confused with my compassion for the Slytherin, I commanded my feet to carry me from the graveyard. As I grabbed hold of the portkey, I vowed I would never tell anyone that I'd seen Malfoy there. Even so, it haunted my thoughts for many days to come.
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