When Losing It All

When Losing It All, pt 1


title: When Losing It All (1/?)
author: Chibimono Akuno
email: chibimono@msn.com
category: OH THE ANGST, drama, budding romance at a later date...
spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
rating: R for now because of violence and foul language... rating will
go up in the future, if things go to plan...
disclaimers: These characters, all except for any I may have made up
for the purpose of the story, belong to the wonderful goddess J.K.
Rowling and all other companies that own them. I bow before you all and
beg for your forgiveness of using these characters. I only wish to
entertain, not make money.
A/N: This is my first solo multipart writing excursion in this fandom,
and my lava lamp muse, Volcano, is demanding that this be done...
Please do not be too harsh with me! I want to know what everyone
thinks, as I am almost afraid to continue this... I hope you enjoy it!

When Losing It All
part 1: The Fallen Prince and the Tarnished Golden Boy
by Chibimono Akuno

~ So impressed with all you do
  tried so hard to be like you
  flew too high and burnt the wing
  lost my faith in everything ~
        - Nine Inch Nails, Somewhat
Damaged

The world became a very ugly place suddenly. Things that were once
looked forward to and much anticipated became horrifying and dangerous.
Things that were once trusted not to fail fell through with speed and
heaviness of a boulder down a steep mountainside. Things that were once
labeled as Dark truly began to show just why they were labeled so.

Following in his father\'s footsteps was all Draco Malfoy thought he
ever wanted. He wanted to make his father proud and bring honor to his
family. He wanted to prove that, yes, he was a Malfoy, and no one had
the power to stop him from doing what ever he wanted. Times were
different then. Tension of the undeniable upcoming war was felt
everywhere in the wizarding world. Everyone was waiting impatiently for
a move from Lord Voldermort, from an attack by the Death Eaters.

Draco was the only son one of the most powerful and influential Death
Eater families. He could observe meetings when they were held at his
family\'s manor and accept messages for his father. Everyday at home in
the large manor, Draco\'s father instructed him in the Dark Arts,
preparing him for the gift of the Mark on his twentieth birthday, and
for the upcoming Second War. Draco was a quick and studious learner,
his only flaw was the inability to bring himself to kill another
person, regardless of the threats and the punishments his father gave
him.

Graduation from Hogwarts was held without incident, and Draco went home
to wait for the beginning. Even though the Dark Lord was revived at the
end of Draco\'s fourth year at Hogwarts, Voldermort had made no true
move amongst the Wizarding world as of yet, save for an attack at the
Ministry of Magic to get at Harry Potter. Six months later, everything
Lord Voldermort needed was finally in place, and Azkaban was attacked.
All the Death Eaters were released and rushed quickly to the Dark
Lord\'s side. Lucius Malfoy wasted no time returning home.

Draco hung on to every word messengers brought to Malfoy Manor. There
were reports of whole wizarding towns lost of people, houses burned,
Muggles dying. Draco only laughed and said that was what they deserved
for trying to stop the Dark Lord. He only laughed harder when he heard
of the feeble attempts to stop the Death Eaters by a band of wizards
ridiculously named the Order of the Phoenix.

It was around New Years, after Draco\'s nineteenth birthday, that the
laughing stopped. Pathetic resistance suddenly became all-out guerilla
magic warfare as none other than the Boy Who Lived himself entered the
battlefield. Leading the way, Harry Potter reaped incredible amounts of
damage, fighting with wild magic that no one was sure how to counter.
The Order of the Phoenix seemed to have revived itself and was fighting
back, putting a nasty dent in the ranks of the Death Eaters. Draco
could not wait soon enough for his twentieth birthday to come...

And come it did.

But not the way Draco wanted it.

He awoke that morning with an unusual sinking feeling in his stomach.
He dismissed it as he quickly dressed. With light steps, he made his
way to his father\'s study. This was the morning he had been longing
for, desiring for as long as he could remember. Nevermind that he
himself did not want to fight, nevermind that he himself did not want
to kill, nevermind because his father would not hear of such a thing,
and nevermind because Lord Voldermort would kill him if he knew the
truth. Draco was to follow his family\'s honor and become a Death Eater.
It was only right.

He paused at the large oaken double doors and heard voices within the
study. With a knock, Draco signaled his presence outside the room, and
he was greeted by his father\'s voice. \"Come in, Draco,\" Lucius Malfoy
drawled as his son entered obediently. \"We were just discussing you.\"

Other than the tall and lean man of blonde majesty that was his father,
there was only one person in the room. This person, this man made the
feeling of unease had felt earlier return to his stomach. Draco
swallowed down hard on the feeling to force it away, but it lingered
regardless as he stared at the big man standing across the desk from
his father. Yes, this man was large framed, with large muscles, and a
large nasty sneer of pleasure. Of what pleased him, Draco knew nothing
of and was desperately hoping he did not have to find out.

Lucius’s hand moved toward Draco in a beckoning gesture. \"Come forward,
Draco. I want you to meet Jaeger Heidenrich, the head field operative
for the Dark Lord.\"

Draco\'s stomach suddenly clenched, but he stepped forward nonetheless
and took the broad man\'s beefy hand. \"How do you do,\" Draco said softly
and bowed slightly in the obedient way that he had been taught growing
up.

\"Are you veady for var, boi?\" The man asked, his German accent heavy.
He had a grin on his face as if he was kicking a puppy and liking it
immensely. Draco\'s stomach clenched again, and he realized it as his
instincts telling him he was in serious trouble. But instead of running
like he knew he should have, Draco stared at the man, his face blank...
and hopefully his eyes weren\'t betraying his fear.

Lucius stood and walked around his desk to place a hand on Draco\'s
shoulder. \"Today is a very momentous day, my son. You will become a
Death Eater, and join me in the ranks of the Dark Lord!\" He was looking
proudly at Draco, his eye positively shinning, and in his mind Draco
was desperately trying to tell his heart this was the right thing to do.

The elder Malfoy quickly steered his son out of the study and down into
the dungeons of the manor, with Heidenrich following. Draco\'s heart
pounded in his t ast as he realized they were going to the ceremony
room. \"We can not leave the Master waiting,\" his father said as they
moved quickly through the stone hallway. The quick footsteps that
echoed through the halls and the fast approaching doors made Draco feel
faint in a way he had never experienced. Blood was rushing hard in his
ears and breathing was erratic.

No, he was so wrong and it was too late!

He was never to have freedom again! He was to follow Voldermort\'s
command! He was to destroy all living creatures that opposed the Dark
Lord! He would have to kill Muggles and Wizards... and he knew he could
not. He had tried, but death was not something he could curse anyone
with.

And he knew the Dark Lord would not be happy about this at all!

The doors swung open to a room lined in candles and black velvet
fabric, and then were closed by Heidenrich from the outside. This was
the ceremony room and in all his evil glory, Voldermort himself,
clothed in heavy black robes, sat upon the alter. Draco was
unceremoniously pushed towards the powerful being on the other side of
the room.  Hands resting on both his shoulders, Draco\'s father
forced him to stop and stand right before the hooded being. The fear in
the boy leapt up ten fold as he felt the pure hateful, evil, negative
power roll off the Dark Lord in tidal waves.

\"Look at me, boy,\" came the harsh and high pitched voice from under the
hood. Ever obedient, Draco looked up, his eyes wide and helplessly
frightened. Eyes peered at him from under the hood, eyes that glowed
red with a wicked intensity. Draco held his breath as his gray eyes
locked with the glowing ones, and he felt a sudden pull inside his
brain. It felt like the Dark Lord was taking his thoughts, his secrets,
his dreams, and pulling them all out of his brain through his eyes and
forehead. Over the roar in his ears, he heard a wild wailing, but could
not tell where they were coming from. Images flew past his mind\'s eye,
showing him his childhood, his years at Hogwarts, his private times
alone, his training with his father-

\"NO! DON\'T SEE THAT!\" Draco heard himself screaming over the fierce
white noise in his ears. As soon as the words left his mouth he felt
his body strike something hard, his vision clearing to see that he was
across the room, slammed against the closed double doors. And the Dark
Lord was rising from the alter, coming forward.

Lucius was terrified, the horror written all over his face. \"My Lord!
Please... He is my only son- my only child!\"

\"SILENCE, LUCIUS!\" came the cold voice, full of rage. \"You have bred a
failure! I will not have my time wasted on failure!\"

Draco pressed himself against the door, wishing it were possible for
him to melt through it or slither under the slim space at the bottom of
it.  He held his breath as he knew the torture was coming, and in
the back of his mind he wondered how Harry Potter had survived the
Killing Curse as a baby with only a scar.

\"Crucio!\"

But instead of Draco screaming, it was his father\'s voice that howled
in agony. \"How dare you!\" Shouted the high pitched voice of Voldermort.
The Dark Lord turned his attack on Lucius, aiming the Unforgivable
Curses upon the man, as his son watched, frozen where he was against
the door. \"A long line of powerful pureblood wizards, ending here in
*failure*!\"

Draco\'s heart stopped as Avada Kedavra was cast and his father\'s body
went still. A sob choked him as he closed his eyes and wished he was
anywhere but here in the ceremony room, witnessing his father\'s demise.
He felt his body move with a loud _crack_ sound, and he opened his eyes
as he felt the change in temperature around him. It was cold and
midmorning in the middle of nowhere... Trembling violently and
terrified beyond all belief, Draco realized, as his world was crashing
down around him, that he had no idea where he was and that he no longer
had a home to return to....

~~~~~

~ In the blur of serenity
where did everything get lost?
the flowers of naivete
buried in a layer of frost ~
        - Nine Inch Nails, I\'m Looking
Forward To Joining You Finally

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was full of wizards and witches moving
about. A solemn mood was cast over the whole house as strategy,
reports, and the dead were discussed in hushed tones. People came and
went through toomsooms and up and down the stairs. It was one corner in
the parlor that everyone stayed away from, letting the lone occupant of
the worn and tattered stuffed chair have a few minutes of peace.

For there, in the corner, sat Harry Potter, curled up on the chair, his
green eyes closed to the world, a hand pressed to his scar on his
forehead. His body ached from his most recent battle with Death Eaters
only a few hours earlier. He was desperately trying to cut off the
angry surge of pain from Lord Voldermort\'s emotions. Every so often an
aching muscle would twitch or shudder of pain would pass through his
body. He pulled his robes around him tighter. He wanted to be left
alone to his pain, to remember all those who had stood beside him when
the battle started and were now lost. Tears were forced back from
tightly shut eyes and a sob became a shudder that once again racked his
body with pain.

He did not want to listen to anyone. He did not want to be there. He
wanted to go away, to go anywhere, where there was no pain and no hurt.
Suddenly it was too hot, too stuffy, too full of people to remain
inside. He rose to his feet, despite his aching body\'s protestations,
and moved to the door as others were coming in. He slipped out easily
into the cool night air, wishing, wanting, and waiting for this all to
be over. The only people Harry wanted to be with right now, the only
people important to him at this every moment were away and he was
unable to reach them. He missed Ron Weasley\'s reassuring pats on his
shoulder, Hermione Granger\'s gentle smiles, Remus Lupin\'s calm care,
Rubius Hagrid\'s pure trust and loyalty, and Albus Dumbledore\'s keen
protective wisdom. Sure, he knew everyone in the Order of the Phoenix
and they all followed his orders and looked out for him, but they were
not as close to him as his dear friends who were so far away at the
moment.

The night was dark and lonely as he walked along, staring everywhere
but not looking at anything. His heart ached as he realized how alone
he really was, now that he was closed off from the world. He was to
have no contacts outside of the Order, was not to travel alone in
public areas, or leave the secure neighborhood of Grimmauld Place
without an escort. No Quidditch, no shopping in Hogsmead, no time for
idle chitchat with friends. He could not be found or left unprotected
while Death Eaters roamed. He was to be ready for a battle every second
of the day, no distractions or commitments outside of war were allowed.

\"Wanna, what is it...? A fag?\" a voice asked beside Harry.

He jumped, coming back to reality and quickly whipping out his wand,
but stopping short only as he noticed it was another member of the
Order. The dark haired young man let out an exasperated sigh. \"You know
I don\'t smoke, Duo,\" Harry ground out with gritted teeth. He hated it
when someone got the jump on him. And out of all the members, only
Duode Viginti knew how.

The man chuckled, his rare violet eyes looked tired, but there was a
bit of mirth twinkling there. Viginti rose to his feet from where he
sat on the cold stone stoop of Number Eighteen, stretching his lean,
tall frame, a smoking cigarette hanging from his smiling lips. With a
toss of his head, he shook his long thick braid about behind his back.
\"I know. Just wanted to say, \"fag\". That, an\' b' a ' a gentleman, like
the rest of you Brit folk around here,\" he said with a grin.

Harry could not help but to smile. Viginti was rather disarming in
character, a happy-go-lucky and extremely honest man, with a sense of
humor that could cut you to the quick. He was American, chose to go by
the shortened name of \"Duo\", and traveled to England from the United
States to join the Order for revenge of a loved one\'s death by the hand
of Voldermort. In Harry\'s opinion, he was quite fearless, being one of
the few that would actually say Voldermort\'s name without flinching,
and he would never run from a battle unless he knew that winning was
impossible. To top it off, he was an unregistered animagus, and he
willingly taught Harry how to become one himself.

\"What are you doing out in the cold, anyway, Harry?\" Viginti asked, a
concern slightly coloring his voice.

With a shrug, Harry turned to the tall man. \"I just wanted to think
without everyone crowding me.\"

Viginti made a sound sucking at his teeth. \"It\'s your house, kid. Tell
them to move it out. They could use any of the other houses on the
block. The whole neighborhood is ours, thanks to you an\' Dumbledore\'s
shields.\"

The green eyed young man smiled, \"I\'m not as blunt as you are, Duo-\"

With a careless wave of his hand in Harry\'s face, Viginti cut him
short. \"Fine, lets go. I\'ll kick\'em all out. No prob.\" He turned Harry
around and threw his arm over the boy\'s shoulder, still puffing away on
the half finished cigarette, which he tossed as they reached the front
door to Number Twelve.

But before there hands were even on the doorknob, it was opened. Arthur
Weasley stood there, his face a portrait of strain and seriousness.
\"There is a report another attack. This time in Bath. Are you up for
it, Harry?\"

Harry grimaced, still exhausted in mind and body, but nevertheless he
nodded. Viginti patted him on his back, and threw in, \"Me, too! I\'m in!\"

~ to be continued ~

A/N: I just wanted to let you all know that I am also a huge fan of the
Gundam Wing fandom. Any of you GW fans may notice that Duode Viginti
has a striking resemblance to Duo Maxwell... Well, Duode is my homage
to Duo. Any Latin scholars out there? Duodeviginti is Latin for 18,
literally translated- \"two from twenty\". The meaning behind it is that
the character Duode behaves like he\'s barely an adult. Forever young,
one could say.

Let me know what you think!