AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Hey! I've always been a big fanfic reader and I finally decided it was time for me to write my own story. Hope you like it! Here's the first chapter. Enjoy!
By the way, for now it is rated R for language, and in upcoming chapters for content too, although it is not one of those sick stories with pointless explicit scenes, so don't worry about that. I just want to feel free to write everything they way I picture it.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of JK Rowling's amazing characters. However the plot and the new characters are all mine.
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Chapter I : WELCOME TO MORKDRAGE
There was a time when witches and wizards coexisted in a world where there was no evil, no darkness, no fear. Where there was always someone to save the day, a powerful hero, a Harry Potter to defeat the Dark Lord and end with the sorrow in the hearts of the forsaken. Long years had passed ever since and now, after the war, darkness had taken over the world; the good turn to evil, the fairness to corruption, life into death and desolation. All muggles, and wizards of muggle heritage (or mud-bloods) had been wiped out of the planet, as well as most of the wizards who fought against the Dark Side. The unfortunate who survived, were forced to serve their Masters who where none others than the Death Eaters, together with their families.
All schools were confiscated and destined to be boarding schools where the young warriors between eighteen and twenty-three, many of them devoted Death Eaters already, would major the arts of dark magic and learn the most secret forbidden spells. That was the case of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft that was turn into a godforsaken place, where the glory from the past seemed nothing but a ghost, a fairytale that would perish with time.
The rowdy corridors that used to be packed with eager students, talking about the latest gossip or some annoying teacher who had just given them detention, were now deserted, and a deafening silence filled the air... The new name was The Morkdrage School of Dark Arts for Boys. 'Morkdrage' meaning 'Dark Dragon' in Norwegian.
It was in this place that a seventeen-years-old Ginevra, the only Weasley alive, was assigned to serve for the rest of her miserable life. With no family and no friends, the once Hogwarts' beauty queen had resigned to whatever the destiny would spit at her. She was still beautiful though... She had actually blossomed into a rare beauty. Her long, wavy hair reached her lower back in what seemed a waterfall of flaming fire, and her porcelain face still resembled that of a goddess, with pale pink lips, a small, slightly pointy nose, and her stunning deep chocolate-brown eyes, which had long eyelashes to match. However, her eyes were not half-as-intense as before, the glow in them had faded a long time ago; they had dropped so many tears, seen so much pain...
Ginny would've never thought that her wonderful life was going to end up that way. She had everything! A lovely family, some of the highest grades at school, amazing friends and the most handsome hero as a boyfriend. She and Harry had been together over two years when the war begun. With tears in her eyes, Ginny made him promise he would come back, but he never did.
During those years she stayed in a witch shelter at muggle London, where they were sure not to be found, but when the war came to an end, everything was wiped out and no hiding-place, as secret as it could possibly be, could remain unnoticed. One by one, the women over twenty as well as the girls under twelve were executed, while the others were taken as prisoners. Ginny would never forget the day when her mother was slaughtered in front of her own eyes and she was forced to stay at a prison until the bastards assigned a school for her. She would never be the same person again...
Ginny really hoped it wasn't Hogwarts the school she was going to serve in; she didn't think she could stand living among the memories of her past, with no future to look at. Unfortunately, that was her tragic fate and so, that Sunday morning, Ginny was transferred from the prison to her old School in a train that was packed with other girls that, like her, were being taken to their future 'homes'. The air was suffocating, smelling of sweat and dirt, among other pestilent smells Ginny just didn't dare to identify.
After the journey, that seemed like an eternity, the red-head looked with sadness at what used to be her beloved, old school. How she loved and prided it! Now, looking at what it had become, she couldn't help feeling nostalgic upon remembering the incredible years she had spent there.
When they finally arrived, a big, fat lady spoke to them. She had the ugliest nose Ginny had ever seen and her hair tied up in a huge, black bun.
"Now, you scumbags, listen to me, and listen carefully, for this will be the only time I will tell you what you'll have to do and we will make sure that ANY single mistake is punished accordingly," she yelled in a cold, rough tone and paused to scratch her nose, "My name is Mrs. Draggery and I will make sure you stick to the rules. First! You will clean and cook, wash an iron..." there was a girl whispering to a friend next to Ginny "...and NEVER speak unless spoken to!" she added, whacking the girl with her walking stick and giving her a deadly look.
"Second! You shall never interact with students or teachers. Your job will be to be ghosts, making sure you clean their rooms when you are sure that they have already left. You will never address the students or teachers, not to mention spending time with them. However if they do speak to you, you shall address them politely as "Madam" or "Sir" respectively. Third! It is absolutely forbidden to steal any of the school's property or use anything without the given permission. Fourth and LAST! If you are EVER caught in any of the previously stated circumstances, you shall IMMEDIATELY be expelled and taken to Dunklerdrache School, where the students are needing human prisoners to practice their new spells with... among other things of course..."
After saying all of this she gave the girls an evil glare and one of them dared to make a question.
Big mistake.
"Excuse me," came a skinny blonde girl about thirteen years old. Her name was Justine.
"What!" Mrs. Draggery shout upon looking down at the small girl.
"Are we allowed to use magic?" Ginny closed her eyes for a second, feeling sorry for that poor soul. "I mean, 'cause it would be a lot easier if we could -"
"Sure!" the old woman answered in an extremely sarcastic tone, "And you can pick a free day to go shopping to the mall as well, if you like!" She gave a fake smile to the girl who now realised her horrible mistake. "THIS IS NO SUMMER CAMP, MISSY! You are here as a servant! The filth of this planet! The scum out of the scum! So, sugar pie... you are expected to work! Now move your lazy, little arses and follow me before I change my mind about allowing Mr. Filch to give you brats a proper welcome!".
Argus Filch, the vile, old caretaker of Hogwarts school, had never actually left the place and, after the war, when he was hired by Morkdrage to apply sanctions to the servants who refused to do their jobs properly, he was more than happy to fulfil his dream of putting into operation and dispensing the old punishments that were used during Hogwarts initial years, among others of his own invention, of course. Mrs. Draggery wouldn't stain her greasy, fat hands with those girls' blood. To her, they were more like a disgusting disease. Therefore, she would just supervise the system and make sure that the sanctions were always severe enough.
Now, the woman was taking them to what would be their rooms, which were more like cells, for the rest of their lives. They all remained fairly silent and restricted to follow, absorted in the steady movement of the lady's boundless, blubbery arse.
On their way, the girl who had whispered during the "welcome speech" came closer to Ginny. She had brown, straight hair, that reached a little lower than her shoulders, and deep green eyes. She was wearing a green tank-top that had been ripped in the neck, showing a recent scar, probably works of the Death Eaters, and a beige plated skirt that had stains all over. Altogether she was very pretty, Ginny thought.
"Hi," she whispered in a low voice. "My name is Victoria, you can call me Vicky". Ginny thought for a while, and answered:
"I'm Ginevra, they used to call me Ginny," she replied sadly. Noticing the look on her face, Vicky held her arm.
"Cheer up girl... I can only imagine what dreadful things have happened to you, but I know one thing; if we're going to stay in this awful place for such a long time as forever, at least I want to make sure I don't spend my days alone, in misery..." Ginny looked her in the eyes. "That would only score more points on their behalf and we must not give them that satisfaction, must we?" she paused. "I saw your family... you must live for them, they would've wanted you to".
"How -" Ginny uttered, her eyes suddenly aching out of the need to cry.
"I saw you in the shelter," Vicky quickly explained.
"Oh... I see, but ..."Ginny paused to think for a second, and looked away "You would never understand, I -"
"Shhhhhhhhh, who is talking?" shouted Mrs. Draggery. There was no reply. "I said, WHO is talking?" she yelled looking towards Ginny. "Right, so it must've been my imagination... I must be bloody going mad, right? Or maybe you're already turning into ghosts!" she scolded at Vicky. "Very well, so on behalf of the naughty little ghosts, you will all have to clean the kitchen from now 'till dawn..." there were loud complains. "Excuse me? I say the ghosts are claiming for an additional night-up!" they all shushed. "Now get in your uniforms you filthy maggots and come back here in five minutes or I'll make sure that you never come back at all!" she shouted and the girls ran into their rooms, which were tiny cubicles with two bunk-beads and a candle.
Each bed had a gray suit that the girls would have to wear to work. It was a very ugly knee-high dress with elbow- length sleeves, but nobody cared to complain. They had a long night ahead.
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"Where the hell is my comb!" shouted a very pissed Draco Malfoy.
The rest of the boys just laughed.
"What the hell is so bloody funny now? Goyle! I can see it was you! Give me that!" he demanded, grabbing his comb out of Goyle's robe pocket. "You pillock... We have lessons in five and you still have time to play stupid pranks".
He carefully combed his hair, which wasn't gelled back as it used to. Draco had his perfectly blonde, straight hair cut in layers, just about shoulder length and he just wet his hair a bit, to make sure it matched his fresh looks. He was tall and handsome as always, he never quit working out either.
Before leaving, he carefully placed all his books in his leather bag and turned to the mirror to confirm with his dashing silver look that he was, as always, looking perfect. Realising Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise were standing right beside him in the mirror, making fun of him, his look changed to one of irritation and he snarled at them:
"Will you quit that, you faggots! It is not my fault that the genes favoured me in this life," he said with a smirk.
"Oh sure, Draco! I'm completely dying to be like you! Please teach me how to make it, please!" Blaise pleaded sarcastically while he pulled Draco's robes' sleeve.
Blaise Zabini had messy, wavy dark brown hair and green eyes that contrasted with his tanned skin, which gave him an exotic appearance. He used to be rather popular with the ladies at Hogwarts, among the Slytherins that is, of course. Sure Draco's appeal couldn't be matched, but you could say Blaise was the 'first runner up'. He happened to be a very charming young man and the girls always love that...
Draco and him had fought together during the war and had become fairly good friends. They were undoubtedly two of the most powerful wizards fighting for the Dark Side. For this reason, Draco felt that Blaise was one of the few persons he could talk to. Crabbe and Goyle gave him a good laugh every once in a while, but they would always make stupid comments about everything and therefore, it was no wonder why the more-than-witty blonde always felt like he was listening the echo of his own voice whenever he was around them.
"Sorry mate, it's in the blood and you -" he paused looking at his wrist watch. "Eight fifteen! We're so bloody late!" he urged, grabbing his bag and rushing towards the door. Noticing his friends weren't moving he shouted "C'mon ladies! We don't wanna start the week with a detention, do we?" and they hurried behind him.
When they reached their potion class, the door was already closed.
"Heck!" Draco yelled as he knocked on the door and a tall man with white hair, sharp eyes with a monocle on his left and a long, thin moustache opened.
"Late again, Mr. Malfoy?" he questioned in a slightly angry tone upon consulting his gold pocket watch.
"Sorry Mr. Blanchard. I had some inconvenients," Draco apologised
"With the comb," whispered Blaise to Goyle, making him chuckle. Draco gave them an evil glare.
"It will never happen again, Sir," he continued.
"I hope so..." Mr. Blanchard said as he let him in. "And you, lads? No! Don't tell me... You lost track of the hour, as usual, right?" he suggested ironically.
"Urm… Something like that, Mr. Blanchard," Crabbe uttered, as the teacher rolled his eyes in disapproval.
"We're really sorry," added Goyle, faking a tone that was full of regret.
"Hopeless, just hopeless... " he said giving them a very dissatisfied glare and turning around to face the class. "Well?" he questioned looking them over the shoulder, upon realising they weren't moving. "What are you waiting for? Come on in and stop interrupting my class!" he yelled.
"Yes, Sir," Goyle said, passing by him.
"Thank you, Sir," sighed Blaise. "Whew... That was close," he whispered to Goyle.
Draco took his place in the table, next to a chubby boy with freckles and orange curls named Chad. He was an exchange student from Sweden, the son of a wealthy diplomat perhaps. Malfoy didn't particularly like him, but students couldn't choose their seats. Morkdrage School had a policy which favoured no relationships between the students; the least they got sentimentally involved, the stronger they would act in the moment of truth. Affection was a feeling that was deeply related to weakness, so whenever a student signed in, the teachers made sure that they sat next to the least likely partner to make friends with.
"At least I'm not sitting next to Daryll", Draco thought as he looked over to the next table were Blaise was apparently struggling to shut up a pale, skinny boy with dark, greasy hair, split in the half of the head, and round glasses; the biggest chatterer in the class.
"Shut that bloody hole in your face, will ya?" he heard Blaise say.
"Yes, but first you just MUST listen to this! This one time, I was with my Dad hunting wild creatures, when I felt something slimy crawling into my pants and I was so scared! But my Dad knew exactly what to do, because he's one of the biggest wizards in the whole universe, and... did I ever tell you that?"
"Over a million times this week, retard! Now hush up before you get us in trouble, you wanker!" Blaise replied looking back to Draco. Then he quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper and showed it to him.
"S.O.S".
Draco couldn't help laughing.
"Yes Mr. Malfoy? Anything interesting to share with the class?" inquired Mr. Blanchard. Draco blushed with embarrassment. He hated to be told off in front of the class. He, a Malfoy, pointed out as a fool in front of all those simple minded squibs...
"Nothing, Sir. I'm really sorry," Draco replied.
"I'm terribly sorry too, but you can not disturb my class twice and expect to come out clean, young boy. You just earned yourself a detention on Friday afternoon".
The bell rang.
"That would be all for today, lads. Remember to bring your cauldrons and asphodel in an infusion of wormwood for next lesson, you shall prepare the Draught of the Living Death and make a written report on everything you observe, so be sure to come eager to work," he commanded and then, turning to face Draco, he added "And this time, young man be sure to avoid any inconvenients with the... urm... comb," which was followed by a general laugh.
Boy, he hated that bloody teacher! Draco was the only one who got reprimanded and they were all making a fuss. How he would yell at Blaise when he saw him…
"That blockhead," he thought "Always getting me into trouble... And that bloody bastard..." he thought, referring to Mr. Blanchard "How dare he give ME detention out of them all?".
He was the only teacher at Morkdrage who didn't treat him with the proper respect. After all, he was one of the wealthiest, not to mention youngest and good-looking, wizards alive, especially since his father, together with his whole family, were killed during the war, leaving him as the only suitor. Ever since, he had received the half of the Malfoy wealth. Unfortunately, it was his father's will that he had to go through Morkdrage to inherit the other half... But he wasn't worried. One day Draco would be the most powerful wizard in the whole universe and then they'd see... All those who treated him ill in the past would pay in the worse imaginable ways.
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"Wake up, you lazy bitches! There's lots of work to do today!" Ginny heard a very pissed off Mrs. Draggery shriek in the corridor, while she was still immerse in what seemed to her like an endless slumber. She was using the Sonorus spell to amplify her voice, that was loud and shrieking already.
"I love you too, aunt Draggery ass..." mumbled Rebekah, the girl who slept in the bunk-bed next to Ginny's, using the upper part, in a very sleepy voice. She was a nineteen-years-old black woman with curly black hair and stunning hazel eyes. She lazily stretched a leg out of the blankets and let it fall carelessly.
"What a pleasant way of waking up, Bekka..." grumbled Vicky who was sitting in the lower bed of that bunk-bed and ended with Rebekah's foot a couple of inches away from her face. She pushed it aside and moved towards Ginny's bed, which was right beside hers.
"Ginny, wake up," the young red-head heard Vicky whisper to her, while she gently shook her arm. She slowly opened her eyes and realizing again where she was, she quickly sat down on her bed and started getting dressed.
"A week already," Ginny thought. She had had a very harsh time at Morkdrage. The two nights that preceded the last one, had been a real nightmare, having to stay cleaning the entire school up to the most hidden corners. She couldn't sleep until last night when she laid on her bed and upon remembering Harry again, she cried herself to sleep. Her mind didn't want to, but her body was awfully tired and demanded some rest.
In the mornings she was in charge of the cleaning of twenty rooms of the first-year students. They were always so messy... It almost seemed as if they deliberately messed up everything for her to have to work even harder. They probably did.
"I mean, by Merlin! Who would keep a bundle of socks under the bed for heaven's sake! Or a hand mirror!" she had heard Justine, the skinny, blonde girl who got reprimanded, complain about. That had to be deliberately done for the girls to have to reach underneath and pick them up everyday. They were all the same... All but one particular room that caught her attention because the clothes were always left nicely placed over a chair and his belongings were never untidy either. It was one of the few rooms that had only one bed.
"Wealthy brat," Ginny thought. How else would he get such a spacious single room?
When she was ready, she tied her hair up in a bun, like they had instructed them to and, taking her cleaning cart, she made her way towards her section. The working schedule was extremely carefully planned so that they would never run into a teacher or a student; after a day, Ginny really started feeling like a ghost after all.
She arrived to the first room, which was always the messiest. It took her a good half an hour to finish that one, especially since there was a melted chocolate frog over the carpet. It looked like the guy had stepped on it and sure hadn't bothered to pick it up. Why would he? There were servants for that matter, right?
Afterwards, Ginny moved on to the next rooms, thinking about how denigrating her situation was. She saw Justine waving her hand at her in the end of the corridor, she waved back. Justine bunked on top of her. She was a very sweet girl. She had lost her parents during the war, as Ginny, and had to put up with everything by herself.
"Poor kid..." Ginny thought. She couldn't imagine being in the same situation at her age... She figured out that was the reason why the girl always had that sorrowful look in her tiny blue eyes, even when she smiled.
She stopped at the next room, it was the wealthy bastard's one. Opening the door, she stepped in and moved towards the window, drawing the curtains. "It's a beautiful day," she thought. Ginny remembered when she used to lay with Harry on the field. How they would go on talking about the kids they would have when they grew up, and the lifetime they would spend together...
"My, my, my..." she heard a smug voice behind her, "What have we here? A new, little, red-headed toy to play with..." Ginny's heart almost stopped as she turned around to face the steel eyes that used to hunt her school days...
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AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Yay! First chapter! Hope you like it. It may be the last if you don't. :( Actually English is not my first language so you might find a mistake or two in my way of writing :P I just had this story in my head and decided to give it a go. So please R&R!
Btw, my goal is to update by Sunday the latest, so please be patient.Principio del formulario
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