Remember the Name
Mei Queen
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This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will…
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain,
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name.
He doesn't need his name up in lights,
He just wants to be heard whether it's the beat or the mic.
He feels so unlike everybody else, alone,
In spite of the fact that some people still think that they know him…
(Fort Minor, "Remember the Name")
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Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR. I'm just telling things as I see them. The story is based on "Remember the Name" by Fort Minor, because I think that if Draco actually chose not to pick a side, he would be incredibly alone as the lyrics say. And the story is about finding out that even the strongest people are vulnerable somehow, and that, as human beings, we all need to be vulnerable to live complete lives. Well…read it for yourself. If there is any resemblance to any story by Heart's Cadence, then I'm truly sorry, but I've been reading her stuff lately on ff.net…and I always find it very difficult to disentangle myself from a truly gifted writer when I've been reading their stuff. So read her stuff. It's fantastic. Also, one of the jokes in here was actually taken from "Chasing Liberty", that Mandy Moore movie. I just thought it was funny and couldn't get it out of my head.
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Chapter 1: You Need Someone
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A sulky blonde shifted from foot to foot, attempting to ignore the stares of most of the wizards on the platform. He had thought about dyeing his hair before he left for King's Cross, but didn't have time. His mother's emotional goodbye had left him just enough time to pack his trunk this year. But, he thought miserably as he turned away from the gawking stares, it would have been nice to hide the conspicuous platinum blonde for a few days.
You see, everyone knows this story.
Failure.
Draco Malfoy had been given a mission to prove his worth the year before, a task personally set up by Lord Voldemort: to murder Albus Dumbledore, the kooky Headmaster that Draco would have been just as fine without. Just as well, the old codger was dead now…but not by Draco's own hand. No, that would mean that Draco was now a murderer and that Voldemort had a new man worthy of his Death Eater ranks.
But Voldemort didn't…and Draco wasn't.
And somehow, the top-secret story of what had happened up on the tower that summer night had leaked into the masses. The wizarding world knew. 'That Malfoy boy…tried to kill the only wizard capable of shielding us from the madman'. 'Malfoy- the murderer who couldn't. What's the matter, Malfoy? Family suddenly gets some morals?'
Draco Malfoy wasn't enough of a people person for people to have confidence enough to directly approach him, but make no mistake; he knew exactly what they all were saying. His help told him. The few mates he had left (and they definitely were few) let him know.
But Draco didn't care what others thought. He was glad he didn't have the blood on his hands, but he was smart enough to know that things would never be the same. It had been difficult to convince McGonagall to let him back in this year, but there was little he could do about that. Narcissa Malfoy had employed her most persuasive techniques, even resorting to bribing the school with a large donation…but ultimately McGonagall had wanted to see him, alone.
He could still remember that conversation in his fireplace as if it were yesterday.
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"Mister Malfoy?"
The blonde bowed his head slightly. Though he was usually contemptuous of the old woman, he was growing to realize that she was the only person capable of keeping him from the Death Eaters, if only temporarily. "Yes, Headmistress?"
"I want to know why you want to come back," McGonagall said simply, a curious glint growing in her dark eyes.
Draco coughed slightly, face reddening. For one, he wasn't sure. Two, continuing this conversation with McGonagall would be, essentially, asking one of those moral Order members for help…a thought that made Draco shudder with irritation. Sighing, he replied. "You know what happened that night on the tower, don't you?"
McGonagall nodded slowly, wondering exactly where Draco was planning on going with this.
"I got back to Headquarters. The Dark Lord was very…unhappy. Disappointed. But disappointed doesn't really define an emotion of his…he usually goes from unhappy straight to vindictive, and an Avada Kedavra usually fixes those mood swings quick enough. But he had a problem."
"Your father," the professor surmised quickly, slowly nodding.
Draco's eyes cast to the floor. "My father. My father was unhappy, too. He was also…well…angry. But as he's the Dark Lord's right-hand man, he pleaded for a second chance for me. And he got it. But by the time my assignment had been developed and was ready to be delivered, I was already long gone."
McGonagall's interest was peaked. "Where did you go, Mister Malfoy?"
Draco sighed. It had been a long summer. "Anywhere and everywhere. Death Eaters have been after me, but I wanted to at least make them work for my life. The Dark Lord's got quite the price on my head right now, so there are more than a few of my old mates willing to double-cross me."
She nodded quickly. This was worse than she'd thought. She'd expected the Malfoy to go back, sniveling for his life, like so many Death Eaters before him. She knew that he wouldn't die immediately, his father was much too important to their side. But the one thing she hadn't expected was for Draco to grow a backbone, to decide that he didn't want to be ruled by anyone, Light or Dark, and to risk his own life for the sake of freedom…
And that was just what had happened, she realized with a shocking realization. Putting her fingers to her lips in wonder, she met the cold eyes staring back at her from Hogwarts' crackling fireplace. "Does anyone know the story that you just told me?"
Draco shook his head slowly. "My mother knows that I'm in danger, but little more."
McGonagall sighed. "Do you even think that you're safe in your own house here? I know there are more than a few of those friends that you mentioned, the ones who wouldn't mind turning you in, coming back to school this year."
"I know," Draco murmured. "But if I have to face them, I'd rather have it be at Hogwarts, a place I know, than some deserted forest. Or some field in the middle of nowhere. Only running, running and having no idea where I was going, having all the Death Eaters knowing the lay of the land but me knowing nothing. If they corner me, and I'm sure that someday they will, I want it to be on my terms, Professor."
There was grudging respect lighting in the woman's eyes. She knew immediately, the person on the other side of the fireplace was one who had fully made the transition from a boy into a man. He had seen things in his life that she even had yet to, and he did not fear death. She realized with a start, this is someone that Dumbledore would grant asylum to, no questions asked. "All right, Mister Malfoy. You may come back this year. You're welcome at Hogwarts for as long as you need."
"Thank you, Professor."
The woman nodded, before seeming to remember something important. "Oh… and Mister Malfoy?"
Draco sighed. What could the old woman possibly want now? "Yes, Professor?"
"I hope you won't mind doing me a small favor when you come back," she replied with a slight grin tugging at the edge of her lips.
He cocked his head to the side questioningly. "What kind of favor?"
She smiled more fully. "I need a Head Boy…would you, perhaps, be interested?"
-
So that is how Draco Malfoy came to be standing on Platform 9 ¾, waiting impatiently to board. That is why there was a bright badge gleaming from his chest, despite the attempted murder of the Headmaster only three months before. His eyes traveled leisurely across the platform, surveying who had arrived as yet. There were very few people he would actually be interested in speaking with, even fewer to share a compartment with for the ride, and none of the above were present. Draco sighed, lazily leaning on his trunk for support as he waited.
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"Ginny! Hurry up; we're going to be late again!" Hermione screeched up to the top floor of the Burrow, eyes rolling at the lateness of the redhead. Turning to Ron, she asked in annoyance, "Honestly, can your sister put down the hairbrush for five seconds?"
"I ask myself that question everyday," he quipped with a grin. "Do you think we're making the right decision, going back?"
"I don't know," Hermione murmured, twirling a brown tendril around her finger nervously and taking a few steps toward Ron. "I think that Harry will be fine, and I know he wouldn't let us sacrifice our last year for him…even though we wanted to. I'm just hoping that he'll have the common sense to owl us if he's in trouble. If he's in trouble…"
"We leave right away. No questions asked," Ron whispered, cupping her cheek and giving a reassuring smile. Truth be told, he was just as frightened for their best mate as Hermione was, but he wasn't going to show it. She was Head Girl this year, in addition to so many other responsibilities that Hermione already did on a regular basis. Ron wasn't going to give her the additional burden of worrying. He could shoulder that one himself.
The goodbye with Harry a couple weeks before had been an emotional one, Hermione was crying for hours. She had fallen asleep that night in Ron's arms, after he slowly rocked her to sleep, making shushing sounds all the while. Even now, she was still a little shaken up about it, often asking Ron randomly where he thought Harry might be and what he might be doing.
Ron Weasley had never felt so at a loss for what to say in his life as he had these past few weeks.
"Oh, thank Merlin, Ginny!" Hermione shrieked, quickly running to grab the trunks, Crookshanks, and Pigwidgeon, finally elbowing Ron to get a move on. After all, she didn't want to be late for her first official day as Head Girl; it was everything she had worked toward for her entire Hogwarts career. As she loaded everything up into the car, she idly allowed her mind to wander, fingering the cool metal of her badge. I wonder who the Head Boy is. Hopefully not Ernie Macmillan…I'm a patient person, but one can only take so many boastful stories…
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Quickly rushing through the barrier, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were met with a rushing throng of students. The train would be leaving in five minutes, so everyone was saying their last-minute goodbyes before rushing on the steam engine to secure a compartment. Hermione scanned the crowd for people they knew, slowly making her way to the engine. She had the Prefect's Meeting too, and from what she remembered, she needed to give some sort of speech at that meeting. Hermione felt her stomach churn slightly at the thought. Speeches had never been a strong point of hers…
Her eyes fell on a glinting badge.
Hey, that doesn't look like a Prefect's one…that one looks rather…like…mine. Excitedly rushing toward the badge, Ron and Ginny in confused tow, Hermione outstretched her hand to the Head Boy. Then her eyes traveled up to his face, and a sharp intake of breath showed her displeasure at the arrangement. Ron and Ginny simply regarded the boy in shock.
Hermione collected her wits first. "Ginny, I have a theory."
Ginny had the good grace not to roll her eyes, but the effort to keep from doing it was very difficult. Draco, meanwhile, was openly rolling his, meanwhile hoping that the pesky Gryffindors would fall into a pit, never to be seen again…preferably before they all had to board the train, then he wouldn't have to deal with them again. Sighing, the redhead prompted what felt like the thousandth theory of Hermione's (in the past month alone). "Yes, really, Hermione? What's it about?"
"Life in general, Ginny."
Oh, great. An even longer one than usual, Ginny's mind screamed. Grudgingly, she asked, "Well?"
Hermione's eyes traveled from Draco's cold grey eyes, up to his neat, blonde hair, down to the badge fastened firmly on his chest. "I think, Ginny…that someone up there must most definitely hate me."
"Wow. That was a short one," Ron remarked. Ginny elbowed him, stifling a giggle herself.
"I concur, but I think someone up there must hate me more, Granger," Draco replied with a sneer, rolling his eyes at the obviousness of Hermione's remark. "After all, Merlin knows why, but I've been placed with you as a counterpart. When did we start giving Mudbloods positions of authority, I ask you?"
The brunette was talking all of the energy she could not to just slap the sneer off his face, but the two redheads behind her knew no such restraint. "I'll kill him, 'Mione. Just give me five minutes, I bet I won't even muck up my clothes," Ron threatened, eyes flashing menacingly at Draco, who, again, was rolling his eyes, now examining his nails with obvious disinterest.
Ginny just shook her head in obvious fury, eyes seemingly laced with disappointment. "You know, Malfoy? For some crazy reason, I figured if you try to kill the Headmaster, you get expelled nowadays. How does that work, exactly?"
His eyes glinted with an emotion Ginny couldn't quite identify. It was something between irritation and pride. But it got the message to her quick enough.
Touché, they said.
She nodded at him coldly, turning back to the train. She wasn't a Prefect, or Head anything for that matter, so she was free to sit where she liked. Ginny Weasley was going to find a compartment, and try to forget about the exhausting interaction with someone she usually painstakingly tried to avoid.
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"Cockroach Cluster?"
Turning from the window, Ginny saw that Neville was proffering her a bag of sweets. "No, thanks," she replied with a grin. I should probably talk to him, Luna's been fairly quiet this ride, I bet he's bored. "How was your summer, Nev?"
He smiled, happy that someone had finally initiated a conversation. The atmosphere of the compartment had felt somehow stiff. Everyone was thinking of the missing member- Harry. He used to help keep a conversation going. Now he wasn't here. He was off risking his life…for all of them. Ginny felt a pang just thinking about it. I wonder where he is…I wonder is he misses me like I've been missing him…
Neville cleared his throat, obviously thinking. This brought Luna's attention from the edition of The Quibbler she had been scouring so religiously. "What's up?"
"I was just asking him how his holiday was, Luna," Ginny summed up neatly.
"Oh," she nodded. "That's nice of you."
"It was okay, thanks," Neville answered, bringing the compartment's attention back to him. "There was a raid near my town though. Gran's still in a right state about it all. She didn't want me to come back, but I didn't see any other way about it. If we don't do NEWTs…well, if the war ever ends…we can't get jobs."
Luna and Ginny nodded sadly. That was the plight most of the school was in. They needed the education in case the war ever cooled off enough for their first priority to be getting a job, and not merely survival.
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"Uh…um…." Hermione murmured, clearing her throat for the third time. Draco, as if on cue, rolled his eyes. What's so bloody difficult about talking to some prefects? It's not hard. It doesn't have to be an inspirational speech, hell; it doesn't even have to be good! You just have to say something so they can leave! More importantly, so I can leave!!
Draco's foot tapping echoed slightly in the compartment. Clearing his throat in impatience, he saw that Hermione's face was now reddening. Okay, that's it. "Alright everyone, settle down," he began, stepping in front of the Head Girl, much to her obvious irritation. "I'm Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, this is Granger. I mean…Hermione, and she's Gryffindor. We're the Head Boy and Girl this year."
"Obviously," one of the Prefects noted with a snort, sending up a round of giggles from the packed compartment.
Draco sent a moody glare in the direction of the whisper before continuing. "Quiet! Miss Granger and I will be demanding nothing less than one hundred percent cooperation from all of you this year. Don't test us, because I will have no qualms with reporting any of you to the Headmistress at the slightest infraction."
That hushed everyone up quickly enough.
Gathering her wits, Hermione interjected. "We want this to be a good year, everyone, and I think if we all band together and cooperate with one another, it will be. But it won't be easy this year. The students are scared after the incident of last year."
All eyes in the compartment darted to Draco accusatorily. He rolled his eyes. "Regardless of what happened here last year, we all know about the magical war going on outside Hogwarts. Don't think it won't affect us because we're away at school or some shite like that…it affects everyone. Everywhere."
A few students met eyes at Draco's cussing.
Hermione continued, all nervousness seemingly gone from her manner now. "Mal-…er…Draco is right. The war is a very real threat, and as the student representatives of our school, it falls to us to ease their minds, and to help them whenever and wherever we can. We need to be on our guard, patrolling often, and we also need to make sure to try to keep our year as normal as possible."
Draco sighed. "Do you know how Dumbledore was always the only one that Voldemort ever feared?"
There were nods.
"Now," he continued, "why do you suppose that was?"
There was no movement in the compartment. Everyone seemed afraid to speak, presumably afraid of guessing the wrong answer. Finally, after a few minutes of Hermione and Draco's expectant stares, a hand nervously ventured up. He was trembling slightly, and he had a Prefect badge attached to his robes, a Gryffindor tie clothing his neck. Draco nudged Hermione, as he had no idea who the boy was.
Smiling, she turned to the boy. "Yes, Colin?"
"Because…he kept living."
Draco nodded with relief. He knew the question wasn't impossible to answer, but he was worried that nobody would think of it, anyway. "That's right, Colin. Dumbledore lived his life as if the threat of You-Know-Who didn't exist. He lived his life the way he wanted to, and that was the only power he had over You-Know-Who…his indifference to You-Know-Who's existence. It wasn't as if Dumbledore wasn't powerful, he was…but the thing that dark wizards really want is a reaction, and Dumbledore refused to give that to You-Know-Who."
"So," Hermione continued, "we must not give You-Know-Who the reaction he so desires. We must live our lives the way we would have before…the threat's real, but we can't give in to it. Otherwise…"
Draco's eyes glinted sadly. "He's won."
-
Blaise Zabini shifted lazily on the compartment seat, gaze drifting out the window. He had really figured Draco would have made it by now. Or he had hoped, rather, as Blaise did not find Theodore Nott and Gregory Goyle very stimulating company.
Vincent Crabbe and Pansy Parkinson were, meanwhile, still in the Prefect's meeting with Draco.
Blaise was worried for his friend this year. Draco Malfoy had always had a bit of a superiority complex, a fact that Blaise had long since been used to about his best mate. But this year was different. Before, though Draco was contemptuous of nearly everyone, he had accepted the Dark Lord and his own father as figures who could order him if necessary. But now…
Now Draco took orders from no one. And Blaise Zabini knew just what a precarious position that put Draco in, something that made him extremely uneasy. Zabini's eyes darted across the compartment, to where Nott and Goyle were whispering, eyes occasionally darting over to Blaise.
"What are you two on about?" he demanded angrily, hand drifting to his wand.
"We're just wondering where your loyalties lie," Nott surmised quickly, eyes unflinching.
Blaise cleared his throat, eyeing the pair. Truth be told, he didn't know the answer.
Thankfully, at that moment, the door swished open, and Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, robes billowing impressively.
"Hello, ladies."
-
"What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing, coming back here?" Blaise whispered harshly after allowing Draco to beckon him out of the compartment. Draco scowled in reply, murmuring for Blaise to be quiet as they continued their search for an empty compartment.
Finally happening on one, the blonde beckoned for his friend to go in first, then closed the door tightly behind the both of them.
"I don't want anyone to rule me, Blaise. Not even Him."
"So I've heard," Blaise remarked dryly. "Exactly what do you expect to do about the geniuses in our House, then?"
"You mean the ones who want to kidnap me in the middle of the night, exchanging my life for a spot just that much closer to the Dark Lord?" Draco retorted sarcastically, eyeing his friend with irritation.
"Yup."
The Head Boy exhaled a shaky breath, allowing his head to rest against the wall of the compartment. "I don't know. I'm going to hope that they aren't thick enough to try anything out in the open, and with that hope in mind, I'm going to spend a lot of time out in the open."
"Most unlike you," Blaise quipped with a slight grin.
Draco nodded, returning the slight smile. "But you know why I'm doing it, don't you?"
Blaise's eyes traveled down to his feet. "You don't want to be ruled by anyone, I'd imagine. I must say, I'm not surprised. But you know what a liability this makes you, don't you? You probably can't even get shelter from the Order crackpots now…"
"I'm not asking for anyone to shelter me. I can handle myself, Zabini. I don't need anyone."
Draco walked out of the compartment, feet stomping and robes swishing as he did so. The door slam made Blaise cringe slightly, and he felt an involuntary wave of sadness for his friend. Shaking his head, Blaise allowed his gaze to trail to the side. After a few minutes of silence, he murmured to no-one in particular, "No…no, Draco, you need someone... If only I knew who."
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