The Banshee - a Draco Malfoy fanfiction

Chapter 19 : Farewell

The rustle of the wings echoes in the Great Hall. Once greeted with delight, the owls' arrival is now a cause of worry. Who will have disappear this time ? Nine weeks. In just nine weeks, the number of missing is monstrous. And it keeps growing. Each morning, the Hogwarts students check the Daily Prophet's list in hope none of their loved one appear in it. Sometimes sobs burst.

Of course, the Ministry, under the cover of the newspaper, accuses Harry Potter and his friends. Everything to silence what English wizards and witches fear : something worse than Voldemort surfaced. The fog gradually spread like an epidemic to Newcastle where the last kidnappings took place. The previous week, the bones of a missing boy were found very close to Hogsmeade...

Unable to swallow a single bite, Ginny stares at the scrambled eggs on her plate. How did they get there ? Neville and Seamus are hiding in the Room on Demand to escape Alecto's ire, Nora never reappeared, and she has not received a letter from her family since her return. The DA is nothing but a farce, a way of reassuring oneself, of saying they are doing something that matters. They did nothing, saved no life. How could Dumbledore believed children would save the world ?

The slight plop of the newspaper on her eggs brings her out of her rumination. With a resigned sigh, she opens the scroll to see a large portrait of Harry. Of course. In nine weeks, there were hundreds of odd disappearances. Some are clearly from Death Eaters, but the others ? The list of the day is a proof of this.

John Adams

Edgar Bones

Rose Jones

Lavander Martin

Robert Parkinson

Zacharia Wilson

Vesper Wilson

She recognizes two names. When she looks up, she can't miss Susan Bones' red eyes and Pansy's pursed lips. It is common knowledge the Bones family does not adhere to Voldemort's ideology and his henchmen, but the Death Eaters would never kill a member a Parkinson. They desperately need Pure Blood, no matter how corrupt they may be. Something is growing in the shadows, patiently waiting for its time, but what ? And above all, for why ?

Close to there, a body straightens up. Its eyes wander for a moment on the furniture, unable to recognize its room. Who ? Man or woman ? Alive or dead ? Its fingers reach a medallion engraved with a snake around its neck. Its mind clings to it. A spark lights up to gently hatch into hundreds of memories. Draco. Hogwarts. Nora. The migraine, so familiar to her since the past few weeks, blossoms in her head as the girl recovers. She brings together the scattered bridles of her minds. She remembers giving way to the Necromancer an evening, but how many days back ? It might be the day before, like a week back. She cannot say. He gets a little stronger every day He feeds. And His appetite is insatiable. Tangled in her slump, she vaguely recalls tasting the terror of numerous people. Around four or five. There even was a woman in the lot. And a man with a blood throbbing with magic. No doubt a pureblood. She will find out soon enough in the newspaper. She took the habit of skimming the Prophets received during her absence, looking for the names of the missing. Little by little, the morbid list of deaths she has caused adorns her bedroom walls. And the more it grows, the more she realizes the consequences of her actions. How much will it take for her to reach the point of no return ? It is probably already too late. Draco's medallion and Kynon's Reader are the only anchors tying her to reality. The grasshoppers' lullaby takes Nora out of her reflection. Night has fallen. Seven. She slept for seven days. And 32 names lengthen the list. She can only assume she is responsible of that much and not more. Suddenly, she stiffens. The Necromancer slowly awakens in her. She cannot let him do it. Not this time. She will not have the strength to come back. Her hand closes on the cold crystal. Barely dressed, she escapes from her room. Crescentia's painting is delighted by the young girl's stagger towards the stairs but for once, stays silent.