The Phantom of Hogwarts
I'm back everyone! RonFan has returned after long months of thinking and thinking about a new fic, I finally have one. The movie, The Phantom of the Opera inspired me. This fic is not based on it, but it has a few elements from the movie that I'm sure you'll recognize. And now, on with the story!
Disclaimer- I own nothing. Though I do with I owned Rupert Grint and Gerard Butler, who played the Phantom in the movie. Now he was definitely hot!
Draco Malfoy staggered through the thick branches and the soft glow of the moonlight. He dared not looked up ahead for fear that the blood might impair his vision. The sharp branches of the forbidden forest poked, scratched and marred his pale flesh. Nothing, however, would make him go back to that gory battle.
The war between the Light and Dark Sides had finally begun. Now no wizard was safe. You were either on one side or the other; there was no neutral. Those who were neutral died at the hands of the Death Eaters. Under every cloak was a murderer and around every corner was a new danger. It was as though the world was no longer in full color, but now stained in blood and filth.
Harry Potter and Lord Voldermort were battling at least once a week, desperate to finish the other off. They were obsessive, and would stop at nothing to win the war and claim victory. One side or the other was killing everyday dozens of witches, wizards, and even magical creatures.
The battles were the worst. Corpses laid, bloody and mangled in the soaked grass, were trampled over by fighters, who later joined them down in defeat. Blood was splattered on rocks, trees, and grass. Witches and wizards were covered in it. No one could stop to mourn the dead for they themselves would be killed before a single tear was shed. This was no place for mercy or weaknesses. In the end, no one would win, and both sides would pull back and retreat, leaving the dead to rot.
"I'm not going back…" whispered Draco to himself.
Now as a seventeen-year-old man, Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, who was a very powerful Death Eater, had pulled young Draco into the war. To scared to stand against his father or run away, Draco fought for the Dark Side, killing very few and only when he had to. For days he dreamed of running away and leaving the war behind. But as each day passed, he remained, until now.
How could he go back? No spell could fix what that one had done. A fierce battle was still going on behind him, but Draco couldn't show his face there again. Not to the Death Eaters and certainly not to the Light Side, who would mock him, torture him, then finally kill him. There was only one thing that Draco swore he would never loose, and that was his precious pride.
He didn't even know how it happened. One minute, he was about to curse a man barely a year older than himself. The next, he was hit by something hard in the face. Unconscious and sore, he had passed out. Thinking he was dead, the others left him alone and went off to fight.
When Draco awoke, the battle had moved to the other side of the lake by which it had taken place. He could hear the shouts, screams, and please of mercy from both sides. Something, however, was not quite right with his body. He couldn't see straight and his hand, which he had been laying, were scarlet. Turning over, he looked into the lake next to him, and what he saw next horrified him.
Gone was his handsome face, and in its place was a face fit for a corpse. One half of it was bloody, marred, and disfigured completely with cuts and bruises. It also looked like a huge patch of skin had been taken off around his eye. Whatever had hit him was permanent so it seemed. He tried everything he could think of to change the terrible sight, but nothing worked. A monster he had become. No one would ever look upon him and see past the scars and skinned flesh. He thought himself lucky enough not to be seen by any of his enemies or fellow Death Eaters.
So Draco did the only thing he could think of. He ran.
Past the shinny moonlit lake and into the thicket of the dense forbidden forest. Not caring about where he ended up or who he met, Draco ran as fast as he could. Once or twice a tree root tripped him sending his sore and bloody body crashing to the ground. He quickly got up and continued his run.
Nearly a half hour went by when finally, the trees began to thin out and a monstrous shape loomed before the mangled man. Hogwarts Castle.
Nothing had changed about the beautiful castle. The war had been going on, but none dared to touch it. Its many towers stood majestically and the windows were glowing softly. Unlike the battleground, Hogwarts lawn was sleek and smooth. The Whooping Willow swayed delicately and the lake shimmered. Draco could just make out Hagrid's house and the green houses on the opposite end of the grounds. Not far away was the neatly kept Quidditch pitch, which looked as if it had never been played on.
Draco had never seen a more beautiful sight. It was his sanctuary. The castle was large enough; it would hide him from the cruelness of the outside world. Here he would hide away never to be found and take out revenge on the staff and students of the castle. Term would begin again in another month, and Voldermort would go back into hiding and pot for revenge for it was useless to attack when Voldermort wouldn't have the chance to destroy Potter. Harry Potter and his friends would return to finish their last year and to plan for the final demise of the Dark Lord. Now he could hurt them, and show them what real pain was like.
But they must never see his face.
A proud man, Draco Malfoy was. No one dared to make a fool out of the Malfoys, and those who did found themselves deeply regretting it later. He knew Potter and his best friend, Ron Weasley, would kill him in an instant if they ever found him. Weasley was by no means a genius, but he was somewhat smart and strong as well. And in Draco's state! They'd only make it worse, and Draco would have a one-way ticket to hell.
Then there was Hermione Granger, the Mudblood.
Oh, how Draco hated her. Always the bookworm and smart as could possibly be. Granger had never failed to come back with a witty remark. Nothing seemed to frighten her. With her bushy brown hair and deep chocolate eyes, it seemed to Draco that he had met his match in academics. He, of course, would never admit it. Still, what he wouldn't give to rip out her hair!
Yes, she would laugh at him for sure if she ever saw him.
Hidden and tucked away, Draco would prowl the school and take out his revenge on those that had hurt him; a mask he would wear to hide his hidious face. No one, not even Albus Dumbledore himself, would ever find Draco. He knew enough dark magic to outwit anything capable of detecting his presents.
And when the year came to an end and he had hurt Potter, Weasley, and Granger in every possible way, he would leave them all forever and never come back.
A/N: Thanks for reading this first chapter. I'm not sure where I'm going to take this, but I hope it'll be good! Please review and tell me what you think. Criticism is welcomed!