When the Snow Melts

I Need a Hero

Dearest Draco,

I am sorry we had to move you so abruptly. We received word that the Ministry is conducting searches. It will only be for the week and then I promise we will come get you.

Love Always,

Your Mother

He crumbled it up and threw it against the wall, furious that she could even keep deluding herself into thinking there was any love between them.

Knowing it would be useless, he tried the doors and windows anyway. They were all locked and warded. He wondered vaguely if this place would repair itself just as his room did. It was then that he decided to trash the place just to see. It wasn't like he had anything better to do and he was sure it would irritate his mother.

When he had broken everything that was in his power to break, he collapsed in exhaustion, ignoring the food that had magically appeared on the floor beside him.

By the end of the week, he was desperate to be back home. He had thought he hated hearing Harry's screams, but at least then he knew he was still alive, at least then there was the smallest glimmer of hope. Here, with only the occasional birdsong and chirping of crickets, he found himself wondering more and more about Harry and if he was okay. It was absurd of him to miss his screams.

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"Get up," Mistress barked in irritation, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the sight of his clean appearance as he stood. "I see my sister has come to visit again."

"Yes, Mistress," Harry whispered, hoping he wasn't getting the woman in trouble. He liked her a lot. The way she looked and even her scent seemed vaguely familiar to him. He couldn't explain why, but he felt safe with her.

"As much as it pains me to see all my hard work hidden away, I suppose the Dark Lord wouldn't care for the assault on his senses."

She poked him in the ribs experimentally, a grin lighting up her face when he cried out in pain and fell to his knees.

"We're going to see him today - my Master," she chirped happily. "And you're going to answer all his questions. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," he panted, standing up once more.

He followed behind her, his eyes fixed on her back as they walked down the hallway and out into a waiting carriage. He dared not glance at the countryside rolling by and kept his eyes firmly fixed on his hands which were folded on his lap.

It was nightfall when they finally arrived, a dimly lit mansion appearing from the gloom as they walked from the drive to the front door. She didn't bother knocking, just opened the door and made her way to a study off to the left as if she owned the place. She may have.

Alarm bells were going off in his head, something deep down inside screaming at him to run, but he was terrified of what Mistress would do to him if he disobeyed. He swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and followed dutifully behind, his eyes once again fixed on her back as they moved and then the floor when they finally came to a stop inside the study.

"Ah, my beautiful Bella," a raspy voice hissed. He struggled not to look up, struggled to keep his eyes on the ground, struggled to remember how to breathe. "What present have you brought me today?"

"A new pet," she purred. "Although I daresay he needs a little more training first."

His eyes pulled up slightly to land on a pair of men's black dress shoes that began to step closer to him.

"Wonderful," the voice hissed. "Your work never ceases to amaze me."

"What questions would you ask of him?" she inquired casually. He noticed her stiffen next to him before she stepped back slightly as if in fear. He glanced up and caught sight of murderous red eyes boring into her. The man's face was ugly - tiny slits for a nose and no hair on his head. He was both hideous and frightening. He felt like he should know this man, his fear seemed instinctual and deep-seated. He dropped his eyes back to the floor to relieve the panicky feeling that was building up in him.

"I will leave the two of you alone," Mistress whispered before stepping away and heading towards the door.

It seemed absurd, but he wanted to beg her to stay, to not leave him alone with this frightening man. As if sensing his feelings, Mistress turned to face him at the door, her voice firm and commanding.

"Do as he asks - answer all of his questions. If you fail me, expect to be punished severely. I have been playing nice with you so far because you are my favorite. Don't disappoint me."

He bit back a whimper of fear, nodding his understanding as she finally left the room - left him with that monster.

"Such a magnificent woman," the man remarked, his raspy voice sounding harsh and unnatural. "So loyal and so talented."

He nodded his agreement, hesitant to do anything else.

"For now, I only have one question to ask - what does the prophecy about us say?"

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Two months had passed, the end of term was almost upon them and yet no one had been able to find out where Harry had been taken. The Ministry had conducted a few futile searches that had resulted in zero leads. Ron felt hopelessly sick with worry, wondering where his friend could be and what could be happening to him. He'd never felt more useless in his whole entire life. If the roles were reversed he was certain Harry would have already figured something out, but he was at a loss. What could he do that The Ministry and The Order hadn't already done?

"There's been another attack," Hermione announced, setting down the paper so she could look him in the eyes while he poked at his breakfast in disinterest. "They wiped out a small muggle village. More than one-hundred people dead."

Ron took in a deep steadying breath, his anger bubbling just below the surface. It felt like he was always angry lately. The slightest thing set him off and he found his knuckles in a perpetually bloody state from all the walls he had assaulted.

"This is the tenth attack this month," Hermione exclaimed in frustration. "And the month has only just started."

Last month, a muggle village had been attacked out of the blue, leaving the wizarding world shocked. Since then, the Death Eaters weren't even trying to hide their activity. Ron suspected that it had something to do with Harry, that somehow Voldemort had learned what was really in the prophecy. It worried him to think about what it would have taken to drag that secret out of him. He felt sick just thinking about it.

Hermione was studying him with fearful eyes, begging him for some reassurance, but he had none to give. The first couple of weeks after Harry had disappeared, she had spent most of her time crying. Admittedly, he'd done a bit of crying himself. Now, they were both past the point of tears, lost in fearful wonderings, helplessness clawing at them. Everything felt like it took too much effort, like it was pointless. He had no reassurances to give her because he had lost all hope. Everything had gone disastrously wrong.

"I know, Hermione," he grumbled. "I know."

"Why isn't The Ministry doing anything? They lost their Chosen One. What are they waiting for now?" she cried.

"I know," he grumbled, irritation rising up in him.

"If they don't start ramping things up soon, more people are going to die."

"I KNOW!" he finally shouted.

She blinked at him in surprise, her mouth agape. Several other Gryffindors turned to stare at them.

Ron sheepishly bowed his head. "I'm sorry I screamed at you," he apologized. "I'm just tired of hearing about things I can't fix...so tired of everything."

Hermione's face turned sympathetic as she studied him. "Me too," she whispered, placing a hand on his knee and squeezing it gently. "I really miss him."