Hermione Granger self consciously smoothed an imaginary wrinkle of the fabric on her navy blue robes for the third time in as many minutes. She looked around the grand parlor of Malfoy manor. The walls gleamed with 24kt gold leaf and padded burgundy brocade lined the walls. Everything was trimmed in dark woods. The floors were a sheet of obsidian black marble so glossy that she was sure she could use it for a mirror if needed. The ceiling soared twenty feet above her, boasting a huge crystal chandelier that looked as delicate as a snowflake.
Every bit of décor screamed old money. Hermione and her mother had dabbled in antiques for fun, and as Hermione never dabbled in anything without thorough research, she was able to recognize that the Malfoys' had an incredible collection in this room alone.
She was sure the piece on the huge mantle was a rare Galle vase. Works of numerous famous painters hung on the walls. Including some of Draco's' ancestors expertly painted by her favorite painter Hans Holbein. Funny, she had always thought him muggle, but the enchanted paintings proved otherwise. She was also sure she had seen a small Rodin sculpture on a side table in the foyer.
She looked up to see the striking clear silver eyes that belonged to Draco Malfoy. He was smirking at her as if he could read how uncomfortable she felt, how awed she was by the magnificent palace-like manor. His long muscled legs were stretched gracefully out in front of him.
Clad in his trademark black, it seemed to Hermione that his silvery blond hair glowed in contrast. His smooth pale skin and square jawed angular features were more strikingly handsome than she remembered; reminding her that she hadn't seen him in nearly four years. Not since their seventh year at Hogwarts. The war had started just weeks after graduation and had lasted two grueling, horrific years, but it was over now. Harry had killed Voldemort and everything, it seemed then, would be fine.
Shaking off his smirk, Hermione squared her shoulders and willed herself to stop fidgeting. She focused, with effort, on the words that her colleague, Bill Weasley was speaking.
"So you see Mr. Malfoy, we are here to ask you to submit to a minimally invasive memory scan. We understand that you have stated you have no recollection of the battle in which Harry Potter received the curse that has debilitated him over time; however, we are asking everyone to undergo this memory probe. We believe it is the only way to ensure that nothing has been…blocked from ones memory…subconsciously of course."
"Tell me Mr. Weasley," Draco drawled "What happens if I prefer not to undergo this-'minimally invasive' procedure?" Draco's eyes looked unblinkingly across at Bill Weasley. The older man gave as good as he got, returning the stare with only the smallest tinge of pink suffusing his neck and ears.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, if you choose not to comply with the ministries request, the ministry will summons you to ministry headquarters and a more invasive full memory scan. The full scan is the type that is usually reserved for hostile interrogation of witnesses and prisoners."
The two men regarded each other across the delicate antique occasional table for long moments.
"And I thought we were saved from the dictatorship that was Voldemort." Draco mused more to himself than Bill Weasley or Hermione.
It was a necessary injustice, Hermione reminded herself. She tamped down the twinge of guilt she felt. Anger at the situation rose in her and she bit her tongue. 'He should be glad to do something that might help Harry" she thought. It was invasive, to require Draco to allow the ministry access to his memories of the war, but damn if Harry hadn't sacrificed enough for everyone else. It was high time for someone else to do some sacrificing.
Finally she could contain herself no longer, "Bloody Hell, Malfoy, nobody wants to skip around in your head. We just want to check to see if you have something, even an abbreviated memory of the curse that was cast on Harry. Until we can find out what curse he was hit with, we can't find the counter curse!"
Draco turned to regard her coolly a small humorless smile on his lips. "So the Profits' got it right for once? With Rita Skeeter being the new Editor-In-Chief, I never believe anything that rag prints anymore. 'The Golden Boy has been afflicted by Voldemort's last curse and has been deteriorating over the past two years'
Hermione glared back at him, refusing to speak anymore, she had already said more than enough.
"As I seem to have no choice," Draco spoke, his eyes still on Hermione, his voice dripping sarcasm "I suppose I acquiesce. Merlin knows I wouldn't wish anyone to think for a moment that I wouldn't want to help the famous Harry Potter at all costs. Lets get on with it Weasley, I want you done and out my head and my house as soon as possible. I have appearances to think of after all."
Bill Weasley pressed his lips together in exasperation. He'd never had to meet Draco Malfoy before. He'd taken Hermione's' description of his arrogance and snobbery with a grain of salt when she tried to warn him what they were in for when they came to Malfoy Manor today.
Bill had told Hermione to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Even though he was the son of a Deatheater, he'd done his bit during the war and fought against Voldemort. She could see now that Bill was having a hard time remembering what he'd told her earlier.
Early on in the war, Draco had covertly switched sides. Neither Bill nor Hermione knew the details about what capacity he'd served during the war, few people did. But, at wars end, Alistair Moody had been a witness for Draco's loyalty to the Order. Moody had spoken on Draco's behalf in a special private session before the Wizengamot. Apparently the Wizengamot had agreed with Moody. He'd been acquitted of all charges and had actually been given some type of commendation, nobody but Malfoy really knew all the details, and he wasn't talking. Hermione had not been able to believe it, but Moody's staunch support of Draco had convinced her to try.
"If you will sit forward in your chair and maintain eye contact with me, we will begin."
"You, Granger?" Malfoy balked. "Oh, no, you're not getting into my head. Big Weasel here is bad enough but not you, absolutely not." Malfoy stood with his hands on his hips, his sneer firmly in place as he looked down at Hermione. Bill's face flushed scarlet now and he balled his fists at his sides.
"Watch you mouth Malfoy." He gritted thorough his teeth.
"It's OK, Bill." Hermione said her expression determined, placing a hand gently on Bills' forearm. "Draco here is an old classmate; he just likes to get digs in here and there for old times sake. Can you please switch places with me so I can sit across from Draco? It will be more comfortable that way.
"Didn't you hear me, Granger, I meant what I said. I'll not have some half trained, half baked, mud-" Draco's next words were cut off as Bills shot to his feet sending an ivory inlaid table toppling.
"Say it Malfoy! Say it and give me the excuse I'm looking for!" Bill raged indignant for the insult to Hermione. Bill was taller and more muscular than his baby brother, Ron. Malfoy was not as stout as Bill, but his leaner muscular build and was just as tall and the two men stood eye to eye glaring at each other.
"I don't want some…Muggle-born… trainee probing around in my mind testing to see if she's got her lessons right." Draco modified seamlessly as if Bill hadn't spoken at all. He arched an aristocratic eyebrow at Bill and resumed his same bored, half reclined position on the winged chair.
"For your information, Malfoy, Ms. Granger here is the best Legilimens the ministry has. She's trained the last four years exclusively with Iriac Misrioka, the famous Thai Legilimens.
Draco sat quietly across from Hermione regarding her with an inscrutable expression. Hermione made her expression go blank and looked back at him just as intently.
Finally after several moments Draco narrowed his clear grey gaze at her almost imperceptibly. Hermione knew from her years of training at reading the nuances of facial expressions that he had made his decision and she waited to hear what it was.
"OK then, Granger. Do your best, but no wandering, I am after all" Draco drawled, "a gentleman." Hermione flushed slightly at the meaningful look in his eyes but ignored his attempt to fluster her.
She would need all of her focus and concentration to perform occlumency. She asked Bill to lower the lights to which Draco snapped his fingers. A tiny wisp of a house elf appeared immediately. Draco commanded her to lower the lights and the tiny elf did so magically then backed out of the room bowing and shaking with nervous fright.
Hermione had to take several deep breaths to calm herself as her anger flared. The poor elf looked positively malnourished. Its fragile bones stuck out beneath its dusky skin in sharp points beneath her black tea towel. The condition of the poor creature made her blood boil. She flashed a glare at Draco who smirked at her, correctly guessing the cause of her anger. Shaking herself mentally she refocused.
Propping herself on the edge of an ottoman she sat knee to knee with Draco.
"Please maintain eye contact with me, Mr. Malfoy."
Liquid silver eyes locked with golden brown and just as Draco smirked and opened his mouth to speak again Hermione raised her wand and arching it deftly in the air whispering "Legilimens!"
She tumbled head first into the silver pools of Draco's eyes just as they widened in surprise. She found herself in a black void of a room crowded with doors of every shape, size and material. Knowing what she was looking for she immediately raised her had to summon the doors that were made of metal and heavily locked and armored.
More than fifty doors all heavily fortified glided forward. Hermione quickly counted the number of doors in surprise. These doors were Malfoy's subconscious attempts at defending his darkest and most disturbing memories, both from himself and others.
Hermione knew that each door contained a disturbing memory. The more heavily locked and secured the door, the more disturbing the memory. These were the thoughts that were most painful for Malfoy to dwell upon or to remember.
Most people usually had fewer than ten such doors unless they had been subject to extreme hardship, abuse or as she suspected in Malfoy's case, war.
'Lots of hang-ups and deep dark secrets, eh Malfoy' She smirked to herself. She was surprised when she stepped forward to the first door only to have several smaller, less sturdy doors rush to surround it.
Usually, as long as eye contact was maintained, breaking through the door to the protected memory was the most difficult part of her work. She had only experienced secondary protection of memories, such as Draco was exhibiting while practicing legilimency on subjects with advanced levels of skill at occlumency.
Malfoy was actually subconsciously causing the other, less painful, less guarded memories to jump before her. He was, in effect, offering her other, less disturbing memories in hopes that they would distract her from her chosen target.
She knew Malfoy was accomplished at occumency in his own right. He had reportedly been tutored in the subject by his godfather, Severus Snape and she had, in fact expected it to be more difficult to break through the heavily guarded memories his mind contained because of his training. This diversionary tactic, however, put a new twist on things. Undaunted, Hermione continued.
'OK' she thought, looking at the weak doors in front of her. 'If you want me to see these memories instead, I'll bite.'
A small wooden door stood directly in front of her. She reached forward and turned the knob which, as she suspected turned freely as it was unlocked. Whatever was behind this door, Draco was perfectly willing to allow Hermione to see it.
She found herself in a corridor that was eerily familiar. She knew this place. In a few seconds, it dawned on her. It was a dungeon corridor at Hogwarts. She was standing before a group of what looked like fourth year students in front of the door to Professor Snapes' potions classroom and she was feeling strangely exhilarated, happy yet angry at the same time. She was looking thorough eyes from someone else's perspective. Professor Snape came into view.
"But, Professor!" Harry Potter exclaimed.
His voice irritated her, grated on her nerves. 'Stop whining!' She thought as she turned to see Potter, his face flushed with rage.
"Look what he's done to Hermione!" as Potter spoke Hermione was shocked to see him point to his left. Standing there hunched over, clutching her books to her chest with a barley tamed mane of auburn hair was a 14-year old copy of herself. As she looked at her 14-year old self through Draco Malloy's eyes, the girl she used to be raised her head and Hermione felt sick and elated at the same time.
The young Hermione raised her head, her books clutched to her chest and her face awash with tears. Two huge magically enlarged front teeth protruded past her chin, giving her the odd appearance of a half beaver, half girl.
From her vantage point of Draco's' perspective, Hermione was horrified to see Professor Snipe give Draco a brief, almost imperceptible wink before he pursed his lips as if trying not to smile saying flatly,
"I see no difference."
As she watched a humiliated 14-year old Hermione flee down the corridor, rage battled against mirth. Hermione realized with a shock that she was actually feeling Malfoy's feelings; his emotions during the time of the memory were intermingling with her own.
This was all wrong. She was supposed to be able to see his reactions and view the memory, but never before had she actually felt the emotions of the subject.
She whispered "fimale" and found herself in the door filled antechamber of memories, the door she had entered with the memory of the day Malfoy had cast a spell that made her teeth grow into monstrous tusks closed again.
No wonder that door had been forced forward and not even locked. Malfoy was playing games with her. He was a much more accomplished occlumense then she had given him credit for.
She would have to venture forward very carefully. Again she waved her hand and the fifty most heavily fortified doors flew to the front of the room in front of her. Again she stepped up to the door with the heaviest looking barriers and as before several easy access doors flew before it.
Hermione, this time taking extra time to prepare herself mentally again took the bait and walked into a door that she merely had to "Alohamora" to get open.
She instantly found herself in a dimly lit bedroom. Her cheeks flooded with color. Luckily, instead of seeing the memory through Malfoy's' actual eyes, she stood by the door, able to distance herself from the couple entwined in and on the sheets of the bed. Malfoy was arching his hips slamming forcefully into the curvaceous blond haired witch beneath him. The beautiful witch sighed through parted red, swollen lips and moaned his name over and over.
The muscles in Malfoy's back bunched and rippled with coiled power as he thrust rapidly into the witch, who, was now wrapping her long slender legs around his waist and meeting his thrusts lustily.
See something you like, Granger? Malfoy's low chuckle filled her head. The words ran across her mind. Hermione gasped and started. It was more of a feeling than an actual thought, but Hermione knew instantly that it was not her own. He knew exactly what he was doing. This was not Malfoy's' subconscious she was dealing with. He was fully aware of everything she was seeing in his supposedly subconscious mind.
Hermione whispered "fimale" again and found herself in the black space surrounded by doors. She waved her hand again and again the heavily fortified doors appeared before her.
Feeling her frustration mounting Hermione took a moment to refocus before deciding how to continue. "What else have you got Malfoy?" she said aloud. This time when the flimsy doors appeared before her she choose one that was off to the side, not directly in front of her.
She immediately found herself looking into a train compartment. She was on the Hogwarts Express. The compartment was empty save for two people. Malfoy stood above Harry, who was lying oddly motionless on the floor of the compartment. Malfoy had obviously used pertrificus totalus on Harry and with a sickening feeling Hermione realized what was to come, because Harry had told her exactly what happened.
Harry stared up with malice at Malfoy. Then quite slowly, very deliberately, Malfoy lifted his foot and stomped down on Harry's face, crushing his nose and sending his glasses flying. Thick red blood oozed out of Harry's face as a smirking Malfoy bent down and whispered something she couldn't hear in Harry's ear, then after flinging the invisibility cloak over Harry, Malfoy exited the compartment closing the door firmly behind himself leaving a seemingly empty compartment behind.
Outrage engulfed Hermione as she shouted the exiting incantation again to return to the antechamber filled with doors.
Raising one hand in a fury, she arched her wand around her. A vortex of blurred colors surrounded her like a windless tornado. Keeping her hand aloft, she stepped toward the heavy metal door closest to her and placed her left hand upon it. 'Enough games, Malfoy.' She thought.
The weaker doors surrounded her again and tried to jump before the door she had chosen as before, but the vortex shield she had created kept them at bay as she had intended.
"Linguistia!" She said and then she spoke to the door, slowly, clearly and comfortingly in Draco Malfoy's own voice.
"Onvidimas Barrage" she murmured. The door made a grating sound and cracked open, light spilled out and just as it started to slam shut again Hermione connected with her physical body. As she stepped though the door in Malfoy's mind she grasped his hand in real life. Malfoy's' body twitched in surprise, as did his mind. In the second of surprise Hermione was able to link to his mind beneath his defenses. She slid through the Heavy door and she was in. What she had done was a long shot, but she'd had to severe Malfoy's' concentration. And it worked she was inside Draco Malfoy's darkest most secret memories.
