Starting Over

"People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone."- Audrey Hepburn


The snow was still falling when I glanced out of my window at a quarter past eleven. I wasn’t able to sleep. I couldn’t sleep for weeks. I would just sit and listen; sometimes I would write.

I tiptoed to the window. I didn’t want to wake Hermione. I pressed my nose against the glass. It was ice cold, just like him.

“I can’t take this,” I mumbled to myself. Rummaging through the piles of clothes on my floor, I found my winter cloak and left my room, careful not to make any noise. Walking down the stairs was another challenge. They seemed to have got even noisier throughout my years at Hogwarts. Careful to skip the step that creaked, I landed firmly on the first floor landing and had already wrapped my cloak around me tight. All that was left to do was get my broom. Fred and George had just bought me one for Christmas.

The snow crunched underneath my feet as I walked to the broom shed, leaving footprints that I quickly erased with my wand. It was even colder outside than I had anticipated. Shivering, I wrapped my cloak around me tighter. I wiped the snow off of the lock on the door, unlocked it, opened the door, and stepped inside. The warm air that hit my face from the shed was a needed a difference from outside. Smiling, I then grabbed my broom and left.

***

I carefully landed on the ground, trying not slip on the ice. This is where he is, I thought. The trees were covered with snow, icicles hanging from their branches. It was amazingly beautiful, and yet, eerie all at the same time. Holding onto my wand in one hand and my broom in the other, I began to walk up the hill, towards the tree at the top. Halfway up, I stopped. I saw him, just sitting there exactly like he was a few days ago.

I had just landed carefully on a patch of ice after a midnight flight. I wanted to try out my new broom without mum and dad there, watching with smiles on their faces. I loved them, but I wanted to feel free.

I had started to walk up the hill towards a tree, just to sit for a bit, when I noticed someone else had seemed to think the same thing. Calmly, I approached them, until I realized who it was.

“Malfoy! What are you doing here? Oh wait; never mind. The Ministry raided your house again! Is your dear old mother with Lucius now?” I mocked. I instantly felt regretful of my words.

He looked up at me, his face hard and serious, eyes with dark circles underneath them, glaring right at me. His white-blonde hair was overgrown and he looked unnaturally pale and skinny.

“Don’t you dare speak about my mother like that!” he spat. “You know nothing about my family or myself. Leave me be, Weaslette.”

“Look, I didn’t mean it. What are you doing here?”

“What part didn’t you understand? Leave me be! Go!” He had started to pace, hands deep in his pockets.

“What’s the matter with you, Draco?” I had sat down by the tree by now.

“Look, Virginia...” he had started, but I cut him off.

“Actually, it’s Ginevra. Though Ginny’s just fine.” I smiled up at him.

“Right. Whatever. The point is, you know nothing, so just leave me alone. I want my space. Why else would I come here?”

“To escape?” I answered, questioning him.

“It was meant to be rhetorical. Ginny, I’m a Death Eater. That’s not something you tend to have tea and biscuits over. It’s serious.”

“So, you don’t want to be a Death Eater? Harry told me what you did in June. It was really simple to figure out you clearly didn’t want to be there.”

“What did Scarhead tell you? Potter wasn’t anywhere near me in June!” Draco had sat down finally, eager to hear what I had to say.

“But he was, Draco. He told me about when the Death Eater’s raided the castle. I was there, obviously, but he told me about what happened in the Astronomy Tower.” By now Draco had started to run his fingers through his hair.

“The Astronomy Tower,” he mumbled, and then shuddered quickly. “Potter wasn’t there. It was just Dumbledore, me, and some Death Eaters.” It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than me.

“His Invisibility Cloak. He had it on. He told me about the necklace and the poisoned mead. Everything being meant for Dumbledore.”

“I tried to kill Dumbledore!” Draco shouted. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Because that’s what happened! I tried to kill him but I couldn’t do it! There you go! Now that you have the upper hand you can officially laugh in my face, say how stupid I was to think I could defeat him, mock me, and leave!”

I turned towards him. His face was red, and his breathing was deep. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. “But you didn’t kill him, Draco. Snape did.” With my two simple sentences, he seemed to relax a bit.

I got up, brushed myself off, and began to walk away. Quickly I stopped, turned around on the spot and smiled. “Everyone deserves another chance. Some more than others.”

I began to run up the hill, careful not slip on the ice, smiling. When I reached the top I was out of breath and Draco was already standing, ready to greet me.

“Happy New Year, Draco,” I whispered, trying to catch my breath at the same time. I sat down under the tree, putting my broom down beside me, careful not to scratch it.

“You too, Ginny. You too.” He seemed to be doing better. You could still see the dark circles under his eyes and he still looked too skinny, but he wasn’t pale anymore.

“You look better than you did a few days ago,” He had sat down next to me, stretching his legs out completely.

“Things at home have been … better, I suppose,” Draco replied. “Mother is hardly ever around and Father is still in Azkaban, so there’s not much to pressure me anymore.” He paused and stared at the stars twinkling high above, then added, “I still like it here though.”

“Draco?” I asked, waiting for his approval before continuing, “What did Dumbledore say to you when you were in The Astronomy Tower?” His body went rigid at the mention of Dumbledore and his eyes seemed to enlarge.

“Scarhead didn’t tell you?” he queried, and then continued, without waiting for my response. “It was probably the worst mistake I could have ever made by not taking his offer. He said he could help Mother and me. Of course, I didn’t believe him. I mean, what could one old man do to help Mother and I from the Dark Lord? All I knew was that I had a job to do or else Mother and I would be in serious trouble. So I tried, and failed, and tried again, and failed yet again. Then I figured let’s just raid the place with Death Eaters.

“‘That’s when I’ll get him’ I told everyone. ‘That’s when he’ll pay’. And then, he was just there, on the floor sort of slouching, he must’ve been really tired from whatever he had just come back from, having a nice conversation with me, as if I wasn’t about to kill him. He knew it, too. He knew I couldn’t do it! He told me I wasn’t a killer.

“Pretty soon more Death Eaters were up there, raving and chanting, telling me to do it, and then … Snape was there, shoving me aside like it was nobody’s business. Dumbledore begged him not to, but he did anyways. He killed him, and then we all fled for our lives.”

By the end, Draco had wrapped his arms around himself and was rocking back and forth.

“I never wanted to do it,” he mumbled, “I never wanted to.”

I just sat there, watching him rock; watching him go insane. “You need help, Draco. You need serious help to be saved. I’m sure if you told Mum what you just said, you could stay with us at The Burrow. Dad could even let you into The Order. Well, Harry might need a bit of a convincing. Or rather, a lot. But we can work on that. And while we’re working on him, we can work on everyone else, too!” I smiled, and then continued. “You don’t belong with them, Draco. You’re not pure evil. I think you’ve just been molded all wrong and could use a little help to reshape yourself.” Smiling, I stood up and stuck my hand out towards him.

He took it, thankfully, and we began our descent down the hill, towards a new beginning.

I guess in the end, I thought while we walked, people are just lost, looking for themselves. Some need more help than others, but in the end, we all want the same thing.

To be forgiven.