Title: Lost Memories
Author: Counter Spark
Disclaimer: Surprise! I don't own Harry Potter! I know...cause you guys really thought I did. I figured I'd have to set the record straight and all.
Summary: Fulfilling the Dark Lord's task was torture for Draco Malfoy, but letting her go was even worse. Set during HBP. D/Hr.
Author's Note: I swear...I always said one day I would start a multi-chapter story that I would finish, and I really think this is the one, people. Hold my hand. We're gonna do get through this, I promise. Also, I just figured I should point this out cause it was one of my pet peeves...I take great pride in having everyone in my stories in character, so if you've never read any of my stories, just know Malfoy is an insufferable git and Hermione is a bitchy know-it-all. Just the way God intended it. So, with that out of the way, enjoy! And R&R if you're a good person, which I'm sure you are. :]
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The first thing that made Hermione suspicious was the fact that she wasn't alone.
For as long as she'd been attending Hogwarts there was one thing she knew very clearly: no one used the library as much as her. Sometimes she could tell that it even annoyed Madame Pince, but she didn't care...as far as she was concerned, the library was opened until midnight, and if that meant that she was the only one in it between the hours of eight o' clock and closing, so be it. Besides, the Common Room had never been an ideal place for study; Hermione learned that early on. Not with Harry and Ron talking her ear off about Quidditch practice and and their hatred of almost every professor (because they committed the unforgivable crime of actually making them do work, she thought amusedly, rolling her eyes) and trying to convince her between every breath to put down her homework and join them in a game of Exploding Snap.
And that, of course, will not do, she thought, sighing primly to herself and making another mark on her Arithmancy equation, eyes scanning down the feet-long scroll of parchment.
Another noise broke her focus and she groaned, setting her quill in her bottle of ink and leaning back as far as she could, relishing in the sound of her popping vertebrae. How long had it been since he started coming to the library at night? Had it only been a week ago?
At first Hermione had ignored his presence, as she always had no matter where he was anyway, but it had somehow become increasingly difficult. One of the most annoying things about him being there, strangely, was the fact that he had not once looked up to acknowledge that she was there. In fact, she would've felt much more comfortable if he was throwing paper wads at her or calling her a Mudblood whenever he passed her table for a book. He'd been eerily silent. It was alarmingly out of character, and it made Hermione even more uneasy about the whole thing.
Part of her even wondered if he had seen her, which was even more off-putting. It didn't matter when she came in or how late she started dinner. Malfoy was there it his usual seat, almost buried behind a tall stack of ancient-looking books, bent forward over an open page and scribbling on a scroll of parchment, tapping his foot and pausing every five seconds to hold his head in his heads and mutter something to himself. Not once had she glanced up to see him looking anywhere but the inside of a book, which was strange considering how little he seemed to care about studying in class...
But this night he was particularly distracting. Usually Hermione could ignore the quill sucking and the foot tapping and the trips to the bookshelves every ten minutes if she tried hard enough, but there was something different tonight. His usual mutterings were somehow louder. It seemed as though every time she flipped a page, he was out of his seat and rummaging through a pile of books on the other side of the library. "Honestly," she mumbled under her breath as he got up for the fourth time in five minutes, hoping inwardly that he could hear her and maybe adjust accordingly. He did not. Hermione turned around for a moment, catching Madame Pince's eye. They both shared a knowing look before sneering at Malfoy and going back to their business. It's like he's never been in a library before, she thought to herself angrily as she heard Pince walk out of the library, the light from the hall dashing across her desk for a moment along with the librarian's thin, wavering shadow.
That's when she heard it. A horrible commotion of falling books and a loud, resounding thud. Hermione dropped her quill and shrieked a bit, looking around wildly for the source of the noise. She tutted thickly before speaking. "...Hello?" Setting the quill down, she timidly scooted her chair back and stood up, making herself speak his name. "Malfoy?" It felt like poison, coming off of her lips.
No response. Sighing loudly, she walked down the closest bookshelf, running her hands past the exposed spines of the books, taking her sweet time. The further she walked, the more she wished she'd stayed in her seat.
"Malfoy," she said flatly, turning the corner towards another endless row of bookshelves. She closed her eyes and walked down one randomly, speaking lowly to herself. "What are you trying to pull-?" Hermione opened her eyes and gasped out an involuntary, "Oh-!"
There he was in the middle of the aisle, flat on his back and surrounded by half-open books, a thick layer of dust still hovering in the air.
"Merlin," she uttered breathlessly, rushing over mostly out of human response and not really thinking about who it was that was sprawled out unconscious on the library floor. Cautiously, she kneeled down next to him and spoke his name again, more firmly this time, gripping his shoulder gently. "Malfoy, can you hear me?"
A terrible moment of absolute silence passed before he groaned loudly and twitched his head to the side, eyes blinking open slowly and then going wide with terror at the sight of her. "What the-?" He snapped into a sitting position, his overlong legs flailing a little bit, and smacked her hand away, horrified. "What did you do to me?" Malfoy snapped his head around, taking in the fallen books and the empty library, momentarily stunned and somehow convinced that she had something to do with all of this. "And most importantly," he started, narrowing his gray eyes at her, "why were you touching me?" He visibly shuddered and took a heaving breath, grabbing his temples.
There he is, Hermione thought with a small laugh to herself, standing up and dusting off her skirt. The Malfoy she'd always known. And here I was thinking he wasn't acting like himself. "Well," she started with a harrumph, throwing her hands on her hips, "for your information, I was just trying to quietly study when the sound of you passing out distracted me from my work. But excuse me- next time I'll just leave you unconscious on the floor."
"Alright, don't be a bitch about it, Granger," he muttered, rubbing his temples in hard, circular motions with his fingertips, slowly getting up from his spot on the ground. When he finally was standing firmly on both feet, he flashed her an annoyed look as his patent smirk stretched across his narrow face. "...You can go now."
"Oh, well I'm sorry! I was just waiting for a 'thank you', but I guess that's just expecting too much, isn't it?" Of all the nerve, she thought strongly, folding her arms across her chest and trying to muster the dirtiest look she possibly could.
He regarded her coldly before taking a deep intake of breath and glaring in the distance at nothing in particular, that indescribably horrible sneer stretching across his pale face. "If I say it, will you go away?"
"Yes, Malfoy," she responded cheerily, absentmindedly drawing a book from the shelf next to her and flipping through the pages before putting it back. Translating another novel for Ancient Runes couldn't hurt, especially if she wanted to pass her N.E.W.T. She'd consider it later. "In fact, I would be delighted to walk away from you."
A slight smile broke across his features. "You know what? I decided I don't feel like thanking a Mudblood today. Now if you'll excuse me." He turned on his heel again, a couple of absolutely ancient-looking books stuffed underneath his armpit, before stumbling dangerously and throwing an arm out to catch himself.
"-Whoa!" Hermione dashed forward in front of him and grabbed his arms firmly, letting his weight fall on her and staring pointedly at his face, gaping a bit. His head hung limply and his eyes swam for almost five seconds before gaining any recognition of her, and when they did they went wide again with horror as he flung her away from him.
"Stop doing that!" His nose flared out as he breathed deeply, kneeling down in an almost embarrassed manner and picking up his fallen books for the second time.
Hermione almost didn't know what to say. There were so many options really, and all of them raced through her head at light-speed. Finally, she settled with something and balled her hands into fists at her sides, fuming. "Stop what, then? Helping you? Honestly, I'm...I'm telling Madam Pince!"
Suddenly he was up on his feet again and his cold hands were gripping her elbows with much more strength than she would've wagered he had. "No you will not." His voice dipped dangerously low as a frightening light took over his eyes. She could feel his shallow breaths on her neck- in fact, Hermione could've swore she could hear his heart racing, but then again, it could've been her own. For the first time, she really looked at him, the dim, yellow lights of the library framing his face and throwing shadows across it. He looked...positively terrifying, she thought, swallowing down the lump in her throat.
How had she not noticed how...ill he looked? He'd always been pale, an alarming shade of white, but now...now she could practically see through him. Like he was the color of bone. His bright eyes were surrounded by purple lids that seemed to sink into his skull, and was it just her, or had he somehow managed to get taller and thinner?
His white-blonde hair fell over his eyes in strands as he took a deep, pained breath, his long fingers digging into the sides of her arms. "Do you understand me?"
Hermione felt completely hollow, small tremors running through her stomach as the sound of the library door creaking broke the silence. He didn't let go of her. "Malfoy...what's wrong with you?" She whispered to him, eyebrows furrowed and part of her actually concerned for the poor git.
He opened his mouth, as if debating on what to say, before letting his hands fall away from her and backing up a few paces, horrified. "Just...just leave me alone, Granger."
Afraid to move, she watched him stalk off around the corner and disappear, his books still lying on the dusty floor, spines up. Closing her eyes and focusing on the cold sting his hands had left on her arms, she held her breath until she heard the quick sound of the door open and close, a square of light from the hall appearing on the broad wall in front of her, his long shadow stretching from the floor to the ceiling before disappearing into darkness again.
"Granger?" Madam Pince's high-pitched voice broke the silence and sent her heart skipping erratically around in her chest. "Granger, are you still here?"
She drew a shaking breath and closed her eyes. "Yes, Madam Pince. I'm just about to leave." Opening her eyes in a flash, she noticed Malfoy's books tossed on the ground and dropped to her knees, picking them up carefully and turning them around in her hands. What would he possibly need with these? She thought, running her fingers down the old, leather covers. The first one, a giant blue volume with Medieval-looking font, read: Restoring Ancient Artifacts and How to Care for Them. The second, a heavily worn brown book with cracking, yellowed pages, read: Magical Travel and the Many Ways of Accomplishing It: The Science of Apparition, Floo, and Other Means of Travel. She wouldn't have been so suspicious if she didn't know so very plainly nothing Malfoy was learning in classes at the moment could possibly have anything to do with these subjects.
Standing up and holding his books to her chest, she calmly walked back to her desk, stuffed everything into her bag, and walked out of the library, so many untraceable thoughts running through her head.