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Shatter the Wall

The silence was deafening. After the intense noise of the Battle at Hogwarts, sound was muffled. He could smell smoke. Slowly, faraway voices began to ring, some weeping in sorrow, others crying in victory.

Voldemort was dead!

He opened his eyes.

"Come, Draco," his father commanded. His mother held out her hand.

"Just a moment, Father," he replied. He couldn't leave Hogwarts yet.

Was there hope? A chance for a fresh start?

He looked at his parents and felt trapped.

"May I have a minute alone, Father? Mother?"

His parents nodded and stepped back, but not too far away. This was their second chance too, and they weren't about to lose their son now.

Draco surveyed the remains of the battle scene below. Smoke was rising from the stone rubble of Hogwarts. Children and teachers huddled in groups, comforting one another. He felt the weight of condemnation descend upon his soul again. These were deaths that he had inadvertently caused. His own history seized him by the throat, and his eyes turned flat.

Lifting his eyes away from the fallen stone of Hogwarts and the dark people in pain below, he pondered the sky instead. The sky was a thick layer of grey, a typical overcast day in Scotland. Clouds were dense and flat. He touched the stone wall before him. His life was grey like the ashes of Hogwarts, like the sky above. This was his future: stone and ash.

He deserved no less. He was lucky to have his family who loved him and supported him. Trapped him, controlled him, his mind accused, but he brushed the thought aside. As a marked servant of the Dark Lord, he deserved his just rewards. Leaving Hogwarts with his parents was truly his only option. He would not be welcomed down below with his grieving classmates; his presence would only inflict more pain.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy waited quietly for their son. They stood nearby, watching his back, wondering what he was thinking. Lucius was anxious to leave, but Narcissa whispered, "Give him time, Lucius."

A future of years and years of dark skies made his lips tremble more than the loss of his friend Crabbe and other innocent lives down below. How pathetic to be grieving over his own future when so many had no future at all. Success, wealth, prestige, power, blood purity, all that he had thought was important was nothing to him now. Nothing.

A movement caught his eye. He turned his head. Dead, hopeless eyes encountered grief-stricken ones. He didn't even notice the bushy brown hair, the dirty disheveled clothing, or the wand in her hand. His eyes locked on hers relentlessly, almost as if she were his lifeline. Then he gave a start of surprise.

It's Granger, he realized. Hermione Granger, of Potter's Golden Trio, who had been tortured in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor by dear Aunt Bellatrix, while Draco had watched without lifting a finger to help. Shame for his own part in her suffering overwhelmed him.

Confronted by silver eyes and silvery blond hair, her eyes widened in surprise and she gripped her wand. But before she could say anything, Malfoy's eyes began to speak to her.

She froze. Would he spit out a sneering comment? Would he pull himself up to his snobbish height and peer down at her with disgust? She stood poised, ready to run or ready to attack, depending upon Malfoy's reaction to her.

Instead, she saw him shake his head as if he had just recognized her. He closed his eyes. He felt remorse, she realized. She sensed desperation in him, as well as anguish.

Could Malfoy be suicidal?

She consciously put aside her anger toward the boy and blocked from her mind all the memories of the wrongs he had done. She ventured forth cautiously.

He heard her step. He felt her hand on his arm. He opened his eyes and gazed into Granger's. He searched them for hatred, scorching condemnation, even pity, but saw nothing but pain. She searched his for coldness, disdain or rejection, but saw nothing but pain.

When Lucius saw Hermione Granger appear with her wand in hand, he drew his wand out too. Granger did not look friendly, and he would protect his son if need be. Narcissa put her hand on Lucius' arm and lowered his wand.

"The war is over," she said firmly to her husband. "We don't want any more violence, Lucius."

He paused to consider her words. Then he nodded and pocketed his wand. He would be facing a trial soon after all. More violence would not help his case. The two continued to watch their son and the Mudblood with narrowed eyes. Lucius was impatient and struggled to keep from telling Draco to hurry.

Hermione felt Malfoy's gaze search her soul. She didn't fight him but opened herself up. She shared her grief over the deaths of Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Lavender Brown, young Colin Creevey. They shared their pain, and she felt stronger because of it. As she gained in strength, Malfoy seemed to crumble.

"Granger," he said huskily, brokenly, "I'm sorry."

"I know," she replied without taking her eyes from his. This was an important moment for Malfoy, perhaps life-changing. She mustn't run. She mustn't give in to anger. She must think carefully before she spoke.

He realized suddenly that if he had hidden his emotions behind his typical smirk and mask of indifference or superiority, she wouldn't have given him the time of day. She would have scoffed at him, despised him, hexed him. Another lesson learned.

"What should I do?" he asked her, trying not to give into gut-wrenching sobs. He lifted his hand to trembling lips and took a shaky breath. Granger gazed at him intently. She sensed his despair and decided to speak strength into his soul. Her words could matter, so she spoke with conviction.

"You live, Malfoy. You make a difference for good. You look out for other people, take care of them. You heal and become strong for others. You do right."

The ghost of a smile materialized at the force of her passionate words. Typical Granger. He needed to be honest with her, though. His troubled grey eyes continued to hold hers.

"I'm not good; I'm not strong," he confessed.

True, she agreed to herself. There was a silence, but she did not break away from his gaze as she considered the other side of his story. Voldemort had chosen Malfoy's home as headquarters. Malfoy might have been trying to survive as best as he could in an impossible situation, and he had never once abandoned his family.

"None of us are strong, Malfoy. We are all weak. And broken. We all struggle with doing the right thing, but we still try. You can too. You are stronger than you think."

Her candid words surprised him. How could she even say this? The Brightest Witch of her Age admitting weakness? This was her chance to lord her victory over him, to grind his nose in the dirt, to pay back his every evil. But instead of superiority, she spoke with humility? He shook his head in bewilderment. If Voldemort had been victorious, Draco didn't want to think how he himself would have treated his enemy.

He stood on a precipice of change and wavered uncertainly. Pulled toward hope, he leaned in to drown in the deep waters of her clear brown eyes. The burden he carried began to lift. The grey sky shifted in color, suggesting a blanket of possibilities he hadn't considered. He shouldn't have broken his gaze or raised his eyes to the sky, because then she noticed his parents standing nearby.

Merlin, she thought, horrified. Malfoy's parents were staring with narrowed eyes and tight lips. She could feel their tension. Had they overheard her words to Malfoy?

She stiffened and whispered, "Your parents are waiting for you, Malfoy." Then she glared ferociously back at them.

Lucius seethed with anger. Again Narcissa placed her hand on Lucius' arm and turned him away from Draco and Hermione. This was a private conversation. She did not approve, but she also knew that Draco needed help. Perhaps this Hermione Granger would be the one to bring her son back to his mother.

Draco's lips tightened and tears once again threatened to fill his eyes. He really didn't want to return to Malfoy Manor. A life constricted by expectations, traditions, and false beliefs like blood purity. A future tainted with darkness and evil. It was horrifying, actually, to think of returning to the place Voldemort had reined supreme. And from there, Azkaban?

He clutched Granger's hands with his own and gave a shuddering breath, "I don't want to leave Hogwarts, Granger."

She stared in amazement at their clasped hands. Had he forgotten that she was a Mudblood, that horrible name he himself had called her for years? How could he bear to touch her? She risked a glance at his parents, but they had turned away. She whispered back, "Do you want to come with me?"

"No one would want me in Hogwarts, Granger," said he, and his voice broke.

True. It might even be dangerous for him to return. She whispered back, "Do what you think is right, Malfoy. If you want to come with me, I'll stand by you."

He kept a firm grip on her hands while he closed his eyes. She guessed that he was looking deep within for answers. She waited calmly, without fear, but with a tiny sense of incredulity at the unfolding scene.

What on earth was happening to Malfoy?

He opened his eyes and said hesitantly, "I need to go with my parents."

He searched her eyes for condemnation, but she nodded with a only a trace of amusement at the thought that he was running home to his mother.

"I guessed you would, Malfoy. Family is important to you. You'll be fine."

He looked so vulnerable, so uncertain, so full of pain, that she reached up to kiss his cheek. She meant to give him confidence and to let him know that he had found a friend, but Draco was startled. His eyes grew wide with shock, he dropped her hands, and he stepped back away from her.

Hermione felt mortified. She had crossed the line and in front of his Death Eater parents! Her cheeks grew red, and she turned to run.

"Granger," he called. She stopped and looked back. Grey eyes met brown. He swallowed and gave her a wobbly smile, "Thank you."

Hermione Granger nodded, then turned again and ran away from Draco Malfoy.

Draco watched her run down the stone stairs. He gave the scene below one last glance; it might be his last glimpse of Hogwarts forever. After a moment, he faced his parents. His father was gazing at the valley below, but his mother stared at him with a raised brow.

"I'm ready," he said shortly.

As the three of them stepped together away from Hogwarts, Draco noticed a break in the soft blanket of dark clouds. It was small; it was distant, but there was definitely a ray of sunlight bursting through a crack in the sky.

He felt hopelessness begin to shatter as the glint of sun warmed his face. A bird began to sing in the quiet, and he took a breath.

Shatter the Wall

Fragile walls break,

Uncertainty rises,

Followed by the pain of hope.

A breathless pause

Waiting for faith.

More? Is there more for me?

A hand comforts,

Eyes bring light.

Shatter that wall of grey!

Let in love

And live.

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