Authors note: Hello again! I've got a new story a brewin... I'm currently still working on SheWolf (a Remus/Hermione story) but I've hit a writers block so I've decided to take a short break from it and work on something else. This is a Draco/Hermione story. It starts from a sort of third person point of view but will change between Hermione's pov and Draco's pov after the first chapter.
A bit of backstory, Sirius didn't die in the 5th book, he just barely missed Bellatrix's spell, mostly because I love the character, no real plot with him just some good scenes. Remus lived through the final battle because I found it cruel that Teddy was left with no parents... There's a couple more changes that will be explained in the story.
A few warnings; this story will contain mentions of domestic abuse, multiple mentions of sensitive subjects (miscarriage and stillbirth) and drug use for mostly medical purposes (marijuana). Please don't read if you can't handle any of these subjects and please don't leave bad reviews because you don't agree with it. This is also a minor King Arthur stories crossover. It's a past life thing.
Most of this chapter takes place in a pensive, I hope I don't confuse too many of you!
Hope you enjoy!
AliceLupin
Chapter 1- His Story
The woman roughly pulled her curly brown locks back, swirled them around and stuck a muggle pencil through the hastily made bun to keep it out of her face. She tried to ignore the man's familiar features as she approached the cot he was magically secured to. She thought the measure a bit silly as he was still unconscious but she tried not to dwell on the thought as she concentrated on her spell.
"Gravis retinentia." She pronounced carefully, pointing her wand at the wizard's temple. A silvery stand came out where her wand was pointed and she quickly caught the most important and shaping memories into a flask and stoppered it.
"Do you have enough?" Asked a man behind her. She turned to her old friend and smiled.
"Of course. This isn't the first time I've done this." She replied. "I'll come and find you when I'm done." He nodded once then left the Ministry of Magic's small hospital wing. She stored the flask in her robe pocket and hurried back to her office.
She stood in a bedroom. It was decorated with light brown and light blue furnishings. Her attention was immediately drawn to the blonde woman dancing in the middle of the room, a jade green bundle in her arms and a bright smile on her face. The memory was hazzy, almost like it was underwater and she quickly realized the green bundle was her 'target' as her boss called them. Infants memories were always a little fuzzy.
"I hope you know he will not be a dancer." Came a voice. Both women turned to see an imposing looking blonde man. He seemed out of place in the bright room.
"I know." The woman replied, she ceased her dancing none the less. "Come see him." She said, adjusting the child in her arms. He smiled briefly before striding over and looking down.
"Yes." He said, staring at the barely two week old baby. "A proper heir. Finally." She watched as the woman's face fell. The memory swirled away quickly and into a new one.
She stood in a nursery decorated with green and light greys. A baby cried from the dark wood crib in the corner and she walked over to it. The 6 month old blonde boy had his face screwed up in anger as he wailed.
"Go get the brat." She vaguely heard through the wall. There was a few moments of shuffling sounds. "Hurry up, I need my sleep!" The man's voice said. The nursery door opened a few moments later and the woman from earlier came in. She was shocked, the woman looked so much older but the child said only about 6 months had passed. The exhausted mother picked her son up and quickly soothed him, changed his nappy and sat down to feed him. While she fed him, she whispered softly to him.
"You look just like your sister, your beautiful sister." Still feeding him, she stood up and went to a shelf where she picked up a small picture frame then went to sit back down.
Even though she knew they couldn't see or hear her she still crept carefully over to look down at the picture. She was shocked when she did. The woman sat in a hospital bed, beaming, with not one but two babies.
She watched as tears started streaming down the woman's face and wondered what had happened to the boy's twin.
The memory swirled away and then the nursery became much clearer. The crib had been replaced by a miniature bed and the decorations were a bit older. All three of the family members were in the room. The woman stood in the middle of the room crying, holding her blonde toddler, and the man stood in front of the shelf holding the picture of the twins.
"I don't want to hear about it again." He said angrily. He straightened himself and turned, the picture clutched in his hand. The woman shook her head, still crying silently.
"She's our daughter. His twin sister. Why shouldn't he know about her?" She demanded.
"Was!" He barked. "She was our daughter, was his twin. She's dead."
"How can you be like this?!" The woman shrieked. "How can you act like she didn't live for almost two days?!" The toddler squirmed uncomfortably and she set him down. He waddled away and clutched a green stuffed Dragon.
"She was defective." He said forcefully.
"I don't care!" She yelled. "She was my daughter!"
"ENOUGH!" He roared. In his anger, he flung his arm down with enough force that the picture slipped out of his hand and shattered on the floor, shooting shards of glass across the room.
And then there was a blood curdling scream as the woman saw a shard impale itself in her son's side. The toddler collapsed and the memory faded away.
The images became clear again and she stood in a field, a large, grey, imposing manor stood against the blue sky to the right, some horse stables were off to the left and a garden was in front of her. A small blonde child ran away from the manor and towards the garden.
"Come back here you little mongrel!" bellowed a man's voice.
"Don't you call him names!" A blonde woman yelled back, coming out of the garden and picking up the boy, who couldn't be much more than 4 years old.
"He's been playing with the elves again! How many times must I tell you?! They are your servants, not your friends!" The boy cowered in his mother's arms.
"Well maybe if you didn't lock us away he'd be able to make real friends!" The woman yelled back. The man's face turned red and he pulled his arm back to slap the woman.
"NO!" The boy screamed. Suddenly, a bright blue light shot out from the child in a tantrum and hit the man in the chest, throwing him off his feet.
"Why you little..." The man started, climbing to his feet. The woman quickly set the boy down and whispered to him.
"Run to Nina!" The boy took off towards the manor obediently as the man stood straight and adjusted his robes. He glared off towards the boy before turning back to his wife.
"He must learn! He won't behave properly if you coddle him all the time." He demanded.
"I will not let you hurt my son." She replied angrily. He pulled his hand back and, without his child to stop him, backhanded the woman in front of him.
"You are my wife and you, and OUR son, will learn to obey me!" The man yelled before stalking off back to the manor.
The scene changed and she stood in a large entrance hall. There were double doors behind her, a large swirling staircase in front and a doorway to each side. The man stood at the bottom of the stairs, the woman behind him and two boys in front of him.
"This young man's name is Blaise." The man from earlier said to the boy who looked about two years older. "His father is a good friend of mine and he'll be visiting frequently, I suggest you use your time to make proper friends." He turned away, his wife following him, effectively ending the conversation. The blonde boy turned to the new child.
"What would you like to do?" The blonde boy asked, carefully pronouncing every word. He looked the other boy over, taking in his bright green eyes, dark, olive skin, and light brown hair.
"Have you ever played exploding snap?" The boy asked, mischievously.
The scene changed again and she was standing outside a large office. The door was open and she peaked inside. It looked to be an office at first glance but when she took a second look she noticed the kid stuff; the, now quite worn, green stuffed Dragon from earlier on the desk, magical markers placed neatly in a row next to a stack of parchment, all sorts of fairytale books and children's stories.
In the middle of the room sat the two boys, playing with some cards. Not much time had passed it seemed. The woman sat in the chair behind the desk reading a book.
"Snap!" The brunette boy yelled.
"Again?" The blonde boy cried. "You always win."
"It's all about luck!" He replied, smirking.
The woman jumped as someone came storming into the room.
"We are trying to work!" The man bellowed.
"We're just playing." The brunette boy said. The blonde looked at him incredulously and the man glared at him. The woman lowered her book, eyes still on it but obviously not reading any longer.
"You will either do so quietly or find another place to play." The man said, leaving the room.
"If I'd been the one to say that, I'd be knocked on my arse." The blonde boy said.
"Watch your mouth young man." The woman said, going back to her book.
"Sorry, mum." He said, grinning adorably.
The scene changed again and she was standing in another, much larger, office furnished in dark wood with dark green fabrics. The man stood behind a wide, dark desk, his hands splayed on the surface, leaning forwards in anger and glaring at the boy who looked a few years off going to Hogwarts.
"What did you say?!" He angrily asked the blonde boy in front of him. The woman stood in the corner, almost cowering.
"I said he's my friend." The boy demanded.
"That boy is not fit to be your friend." His father said. "He's far too... Muggle. That squib nanny of his has him talking like a muggle!"
"Nina is a squib!" The boy retorted.
"And unlike Rose, Nina knows her place!" The man said, standing quickly. "If the dark lord rises again we must not be seen as sympathisers!" He walked around his desk and the boy shuffled back a few steps but his head was still held high.
"Blaise is my only friend! We'll end up at Hogwarts together anyways." The boy demanded.
"Maybe we'll send you to Drumstrang. Karkarov is a... Highly recommended teacher to whip you into shape." The man smirked and the boy got a slightly horrified look on his face. "You are to avoid the boy. End of discussion."
The room swirled away and she ended up in a dining room with the family. The man sat at the head of the large table with the woman to his left and his son to his right. The smell of the steak and potatoes made her stomach grumble, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in over 10 hours. The man was, once again, angry.
"You will do this. There will be serious consequences if you don't, at the very least, try." She couldn't miss the boy rubbing his chest and she had a feeling there was a deeper meaning. "I'm the only one in the inner circle with a son the same age as the little twit and the dark lord would look upon us with favour if you were to befriend him from the get go."
"Why do you care what a half dead, half-blood wants?" The boy said, seeming to gather his courage. His mother whimpered just before the man's arm shot out, knocking his son out of his chair. The boy smacked his face on the table as he went down.
"The dark lord is the most powerful wizard ever known and you will not talk about him with such disrespect!" He growled. The boy stood up and wiped his bloodied lip, shaking with anger. He glared at his father before storming out of the room.
The scene shifted slightly and suddenly she was following the boy down a flight of stairs.
"Nina?" He called out.
"Yes love?" She called from the kitchen. She followed him into the room and watched her turn around, her eyes widening. "What did you do?"
"I disagreed with him." The boy said sitting down on a stool. Nina dropped her dishes back in the sink, dried her hands and went over to a cupboard, looking through rows of potions.
"You should know how dangerous that is." The plump brunette woman said, pulling a small vial out. She unstoppered it and went over to the boy to dab some of the blue gel on his lip. "It should be gone in an hour." She said, kindly, looking over the rest of his face with her blue eyes.
"Thank you Nina." He stood up and she went back to her dishes.
"You're welcome. Stay out of trouble now."
The kitchen vanished and everything was dark for a moment. Slowly a dungeon came into view. She was startled by the surroundings and large gap in time. She wondered if her targets memories had been tampered with in his early teens before turning her attention to the scene.
"Tonight you will meet the greatest wizard of all time son." The man said. She looked around the room and recognized a few Death Eaters. Slightly confused she looked around again. They were all just standing there. She looked back to her target. He was practically trembling, dwarfed, at almost 15, by all the adults around him. "This is what you've been trained for." She saw the boy clench his fists but he said nothing.
Suddenly, every Death Eater got to his or her knees. She watched the man pull his son down next to him and watched the horror on the boys face as Lord Voldemort appeared before them. Her stomach twisted even though she knew he was gone in her time..
"Welcome, welcome. The thin, bald man practically hissed. "It pleases me to see so many of you are still faithful."
"More so now that have returned Master!" Said a woman she recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange. Her blood boiled at the sight of her and she absentmindedly rubbed her forearm.
"Yes Bellatrix. No doubt." The man sighed, looking around the small crowd. "The faces that are not here anger me." He paused. "But that shall be rectified." He continued quickly. He clasped his hands together. "And I see we have some new recruits. Good." The boy shivered and his father elbowed him in the side. The man continued to gaze around the crowd before speaking again. "I am not as... Fit as I once was but I'm quickly getting my wits about me again. We shall make our move on the sympathisers soon."
With that, the man waved a bony handn dismissing them and the memory swirled away. When it came into focus again she was once more in a dungeon but a very different one. It was warm, despite the stone floor and walls, and the room was decorated in deep green and silver. She realized almost immediately that it was the Slytherin common room at Hogwarts. The boy sat in front of a fire in a large armchair, a glass with amber liquid in one hand and a piece of parchment in the other. He was glaring into the fire.
"What's got your knickers in a twist, mate?" came a voice. He silently handed the parchment over to a much older Blaise. She walked around quickly to read it over the boys shoulder.
Son,
My boss requests a visit over the summer holidays. He has an incredibly important task for you. I expect you won't dishonor you or our family.
Hope you are well.
"Hope you are well?" The brunette asked sarcastically. "What kind of 'you're-being-sent-to-your-death' farewell is that?!" The blonde snorted derisively.
"He wants to know if I'm willing to cooperate." The blonde said. Blaise sobered up considerably.
"What kind of task?" He asked. The other shook his head and drowned the last of the amber liquid.
"Who knows. The man is a lunatic." Said the blonde.
"Which one?" Blaise asked, smirking.
"Both." They were both silent for a minute before the blonde lost his temper and hurled his glass into the fireplace.
"Why must I blindly follow a complete nutter just because my father says too?!" He asked no one in particular.
"Because he'll kill you if you don't?" Blaise replied anyways. The blonde almost smiled.
"Which one?"
The scene swirled away and was quickly replaced with a new one. The boy, almost man, stood on the center of what looked like a ball room. A large armchair sat about 15 feet in front of him and it held Voldemort. A small crowd was gathered behind him, smaller even than the one in the dungeons. It seemed only Voldemort's inner circle was here.
"Ah the young heir. I have a very important task for you." Voldemort said. The boys father was at the front of the crowd looking nervously between his son and master. "If you should agree you will receive the great gift of wearing my mark."
"What is my task, my lord." The boy said. She held back her revulsion, noticing his forced words.
"You are to repair a very precious item located on the Hogwarts grounds, send word when it is accomplished." said the snake-like man.
"What does this item do?" He asked curiously.
"It will allow my followers to enter uninhibited." The boy shuffled his feet.
"What if I can't repair it? I'm only a student still." He asked nervously.
"I have taken... A precaution." The dark lord paused, nodding at the back off the room. "To be sure that this task it's executed. A masked minion stepped around the crowd with his mother tow.
"Mum?" He whispered, pain written all over his face.
"Don't worry. She'll be well taken care of until the task is complete." Voldemort said. The boy watched helplessly as his mother was being dragged from the room. As she left the room swirled again and changed scenes.
She was back in the fathers office and the boy was screaming.
"How could you let them take her?! She's your wife, your supposed to protect her!"
"You're the one that needs to protect her now." The man said, sounding tired. She wasn't surprised. After what had happened the year prior at the Ministry, he had fallen out of Voldemort's graces, who was now apparently taking it out on his son. The boy pulled up his sleeve and rubbed the black mark, an angry red around it's edges.
"I shouldn't have to." He finally said before leaving the room defeatedly.
The memory swirled away, quickly being replaced with the next room.
"You can't do that!" Blaise almost yelled. The blonde shushed him.
"I have to, he has my mother." They were obviously in a Slytherin dorm room. The blonde was on his four poster bed, leaning up against the wall it was pushed against and Blaise was perched on the edge of said bed.
"They'll kill everyone." Blaise said. The blonde looked terrified and was almost rocking back and forth. His breathing became ragged and he clutched at his chest.
"But my mother," he croaked, panicked.
"Are you ok?" Blaise asked, looking at him with concern. He had pulled his knees up to his chest and was having difficulty breathing.
"'M fine." He mumbling, getting paler by the second.
"You're not." Blaise replied. "You look like death. We need to get you to the hospital wing."
"NO!" He shouted, taking another raged breath. "They'll want," ragged breath, "to know why," He said.
"Mate you look like you're having a panic attack." The blonde nodded in agreement.
"Been getting them," ragged breath, "since the summer."
"Do you trust me?" Blaise asked the boy, who quickly nodded. Blaise got up from the bed and started rummaging around in his trunk at the foot of his own bed, before pulling out a purple cloth bag triumphantly. He went back over to Draco. "This is a muggle herb. It should help. Before my dad died, I had chronic panic attacks. This was the only thing that helped."
He pulled a green container about the size of a potion bottle but cylindrical, a hard plastic case almost twice the size the container and a muggle lighter out of the bag. While he unzipped the case, the blonde reached for the green container and attempted to open it before looking questioningly at his friend. Blaise took the container and squeezed the sides and the lid popped open. Blaise pulled a chunk of green leafy stuff, that looked suspiciously like gillyweed only much less slimy, out of the contained and shoved it in the glass tube thing he'd pulled out of the plastic case and handed it to the blonde who, again, looked questioningly at him, his breathing still laboured and shaking slightly.
Blaise huffed and took it back. He put the smaller end to his lips, lit the lighter, touched it to the gillyweed looking stuff, and inhaled, pulling smoke into his lungs and lifting his finger off the end of the glass, showing the blonde a small hole. He handed the stuff back to the blonde.
"Go slow." Blaise said, blowing out the smoke and sitting on the edge of the bed. The blonde shakily copied Blaise's movements but he choked almost as soon as the smoke touched his virgin lungs. Blaise clapped him on the back as he coughed up smoke. He leaned back when he was done dying and took a deep breath, already considerably calmer. He studied the glass piece in his hand. The mouthpiece was flat at the end, rounding as it went and ending in a large bubble with an indent in it where the grass stuff was nestled. The whole thing was deep blue and silver. Better?" Blaise asked, smirking.
"Surprisingly..." The blonde replied. "I don't enjoy the smoke but I'll take it over the panic attack any day." Blaise took another inhale before putting it all away. "What is that stuff?"
"It's a plant popular with muggles." Blaise explained, leaning over to store the stuff in the blondes side table. "It's called marijuana. They don't have potions like we do so they use plants and these things called chemicallys to help conditions. Weed or pot as it's usually called is a natural medicine they use to treat all kinds of stuff... Panic attacks, anxiety, pain, insomnia, seizures, cancer, the list goes on and on. It's even used by some as simply recreational, like alcohol. The glass piece is called a pipe, is the most common way to smoke it. You can also roll it into a fag."
"Why would you use medicine for fun?" The blonde asked.
"You can't tell me you've never drank enough pepperup potion to get drunk." Blaise laughed. "It does have some side effects you should watch for, nothing serious though. It'll make you hungry and a little spacey for a while and when it starts wearing off in a few hours you'll get tired. That's usually when I take another couple hits."
"Hits?"
"It means inhales." Blaise shrugged. The blonde nodded. "You're welcome to use some anytime you want. I usually take a hit when I start feeling anxious so I don't get the panic attack stage."
"Thank you." The blonde said earnestly.
"Of course. What are friends for?"
The scene swirled away and she stood in a large, incredibly messy room when it materialized again.
"Argh!" The blonde yelled, punching an old cabinet. Time seemed to fastforward in front of her eyes and she watched as the young man tried time after time. He would come in with a new apple, place it in the large cupboard, wave his wand around for hours and leave frustratedly, only to return shortly after. Until he figured it out and the apple returned with a bite mark. She was slightly appalled when he switched to birds, and he seemed just as upset about. When the first one came back dead he picked it up gently and cradled it, tears leaking from his eyes while he found a box for the tiny thing. It wasn't long though before a bird came back alive and he hollered with joy before he turned green and hurled his lunch all over a pile of books. She cringed at the sight.
Time seemed to stop all of a sudden but it really just moved normally again. She saw him come in to the Room of Lost Things, point his wand at the cabinet and then run off. Moments later, she was following him through the school, already knowing where he was heading. He ran to the slytherin common room, threw his dorm room door open, fumbled in his side table for a moment and finally took a hit from Blaise's pipe before leaving again. She followed him up to the astronomy tower where she knew Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore had landed after destroying one of Voldemort's horcruxes.
She knew what happened already but she still watched as the blonde threatened the headmaster. She looked down and could see Harry under the deck of the tower. A few Death Eaters joined them, shouting at the young man to kill the old coot. She knew he wouldn't though and the look on his face said he wished he were anywhere but there. Severus Snape joined the group a moment later and she watched with deep sadness as he killed Albus and fled with the other death eaters, Harry running after them, shouting obscenities.
When the manor came into view again she had to repress a shudder. The young man was called into the drawing room where Voldemort and his father were talking.
"Ah the young heir." The snake-like man hissed upon seeing him enter the room.
"My lord." The blonde said automatically.
"You did well my boy." The man grinned creepliy.
"Thank you my lord." The blonde said, his head still down.
"I have a reward for you." Almost as if on cue, the drawing room door opened. A Death Eater walked in holding into a thin, pale, almost sick looking woman, swaying on her feet.
"Mother." The young man whimpered but made no move to go to her.
"You have done well." The bald man hissed. "Next week you'll be sent out with a group of snatchers. We must find those brats. Enjoy your time off while you can." Voldemort turned back to his father, dismissing him.
The young boy sagged in relief before turning a walking swiftly to his mother. He took her weight from the masked minion and lead her out of the room. The moment the door closed, the woman collapsed in his arms, sobbing. Her heart broke for the woman.
"Mum, mum. Its ok, you're safe, you're okay." He whispered. He picked her up quickly, shocked at how light she felt in his arms, and practically ran to the kitchens. "Nina!" He screeched, calling for his childhood nanny.
"What is-" Her words stopped dead as she saw the trembling almost unconscious woman. "Lie her on the counter." She said quickly. She ripped her brown hair into a bun hurrying over to the potions cabinet. She quickly grabbed several as the young man carefully laid his mother on the table. He summoned a pillow for her head and sat down, holding her hand. "What happened?" Nina asked. She tipped a pepper-up potion into the woman's mouth followed by a calming draught. Color began returning to the woman's face quickly and Nina began checking for signs of injury.
"I-I don't know. Voldemort just 'returned' her to me. We got outside the room and she just collapsed." Nina pursed her lips.
"There's no telling what she saw or went through." She looked sadly down at the woman before going back to the cupboard and grabbing another potion. "She doesn't seem to be physically injured. Some good sleep would probably do her a world of good." She came back to the table and tipped a dreamless sleep potion into the woman's mouth. "Take her up to her room. Call Mipsy up when she wakes and I'll send some food up."
"Thank you." The young man said, picking his mother up once more. She was forced to follow him up the stairs and into his mother's room. It was the blue room, from the first memory. He levitated the covers back then set her down gently. He flicked his wand at her and her clothes changed to a comfortable looking nightgown then he covered her up, pulled the arm chair from the corner and settled down next to her, holding her hand.
"Please be ok, mum. Please." He whispered, a few tears running down his face. The room swirled away and then came back into focus.
She was in the middle of the woods. Very familiar woods at that. She turned when she heard leaves shuffling. The young men was crouched behind a bush, watching something.
"What's happened to him?!" She heard a voice and went to look. She was shocked to see who he was watching. Last autumn she had run away with two of her best friends. She was shocked to see herself, several years younger, in a clearing ahead. The young mans breathing was ragged as he watched. Suddenly he stood, shaking his head.
"No. They can't find her. Not her." She watched amazed as he backed up several feet and began placing protection, sound and sight proof charms. When he was done he turned and ran the other way, forcing her to follow. He ran into another death eater and he grabbed him. "I found a clearing back there! There's smoke coming from the southeast, maybe the twits were stupid enough to start a fire." The death eater nodded and followed him away from the occupied clearing. She had a feeling she knew what memory was coming next and she braced herself as the scene swirled away.
She arrived in the drawing room from before. The young man and his father were sitting by the fire, the blonde reading a book and his father with a daily prophet. The door bangged open and she saw hee and her friends being pushed into the room, followed by several snatchers.
"What is this?" The older man asked.
"They say they've got Potter," said his mother in a cold, detached voice. "Son, come here." She watched him set his book down and stroll over, trying to seem confused. She could see the panic in his eyes though.
"Well boy?" One of the snatchers asked as the man looked over the three ragged looking friends.
"Well?" His father demanded. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
"I can't — I can't be sure," said the young man uneasily.
"But look at him carefully, look!" His father said. "Come closer! If we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv —"
"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope?" One of the snatchers sneered, cutting the older man off.
"Of course not, of course not!" He said impatiently. He approached the three himself, staring intently at them. "What did you do to him? How did he get into this state?" He demanded.
"That wasn't us." The snatcher said quickly.
"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me," He said, still looking them over. "There's something there," he whispered, "it could be the scar, stretched tight... Come here, son, look properly! What do you think?"
"I don't know," he said quickly before he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching.
"We had better be certain," his mother called to her husband in her cold, clear voice. She was apparently incredibly good at acting. "Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord… They say this is his" — she was looking closely at the wand in her hand — "but it does not resemble Ollivander's description… If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing… Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"
"What about the Mudblood, then?" growled a snatcher. They were nearly thrown off their feet as the Snatchers forced the prisoners to swivel around, so that the light fell on the girl, her, instead.
"Wait," his mother said quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut, probably knowing what was coming. "Yes — yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, isn't it the Granger girl?"
"I … maybe … yeah." The young man stuttered,turning pale.
"But then, that's the Weasley boy! It's them, his friends — Look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name — ?"
"Yeah," He said again, his back to the prisoners. "It could be." He was shaking slightly but no one seemed to notice. He seemed to want to do nothing but run out of the room. The door opened and her stomach dropped as Bellatrix stepped in.
"What is this? What's happened?" She demanded. She walked around the prisoners, looking around the room. She stopped when she saw the girl. "But surely," she said quietly, "this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?" She tried not to flinch everytime someone used that word and unconsciously rubbed her arm, hoping this memory would end soon.
"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" cried his father. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"
"Potter?" shrieked Bellatrix, and she backed away, the better to take in Harry. "Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!" She pulled her sleeve to do just that
"I was about to call him!" said his father, grabbing Bellatrix's wrist, preventing her from touching the Mark. "I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority —"
"Your authority!" she sneered, wrenching her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"
"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy —" His father roared.
"Begging your pardon," interjected one of the snatchers, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold —"
"Gold!" laughed Bellatrix, "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his — of —" She stopped dead and spied the sword resting in one of the snatchers' hands. "What is that?" she almost whispered.
"Sword," grunted one of the Snatchers.
"Give it to me." She demanded.
"It's not yours, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it." The snatcher argued. Bellatrix lost is. She stunned the snatcher, ripping the sword out of his hand.
"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?" One of them cried. She quickly stunned all but one of the snatchers.
"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered to him as she pulled his wand out of his unresisting grip.
"How dare you?" he snarled. "Release me, woman!"
"Where did you find this sword?" she repeated, brandishing it in his face. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"
"It was in their tent," he finally rasped. "Release me, I say!"
She waved her wand, and the snatcher sprang to his feet, but appeared too wary to move.
"Move this scum outside," said Bellatrix to her nephew, indicating the unconscious men. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."
"Don't you dare speak to my son like —" said his mother furiously, but Bellatrix screamed.
"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine! We have a very serious problem!"
The young man took the opportunity to leave and he did so quickly, levitating the snatchers behind him and forcing her to follow him out the room and down the hall. The yelling could still be heard from down the hall. Suddenly there was a scuffling and her friends were screaming her name. The young man dropped the snatchers on the floor and crouched down next to the wall, putting his head between his knees and his arms over his head.
"No. No. No." He moaned helplessly. "Hermione." He whispered as her screams began echoing in the hallway. The memory swirled away and she breathed a sigh of relief before ripping herself out of the penseive early.
She took a deep steadying breath. She'd seen enough to know that he'd been under duress while the choices were made and he'd be released on parole. She took a moment to mull over everything she'd seen. What she was most stuck on was his reaction to her being caught. She had no idea he'd basically saved their lives after the ministry debacle. And what was with all the 'not her'? Hermione Granger stood quickly and adjusted her robes before running off to the magical law enforcement department to save her childhood bully, Draco Malfoy.
Authors note: What'd you think?! I hope I didn't confuse you all with the pensive phrasing. I didn't want to say their names until the end even though it's fairly obvious who they are...
Thanks for reading!
AliceLupin