A/N: Don't expect this fast an update every time: I was just having so much fun writing I got the chapter finished really quickly. As usual, please review!
Chapter Four
The group found themselves once again in a corridor at Hogwarts, but the atmosphere was lighter and the sounds more innocent than in Astoria's memory, suggesting that it was further in the past. This was confirmed when a much younger, and more innocent but less confident Neville Longbottom.
"Looks like it's your turn, Neville," Ron said, but Neville (the older) was frowning.
"I don't know," he replied slowly, "I don't remember this at all."
"But it has to be yours. I mean, who else could it be?" Hermione said.
"It's mine," someone said quietly, and everyone turned to see Draco Malfoy, who was gesturing at a younger version of himself, strutting down the corridor towards Neville.
"Hey! Longbottom!" the younger Draco called, and Neville glanced up in panic. "Locomotor Mortis!" Neville's legs locked together and he toppled to the floor. Draco laughed.
"Thanks, Longbottom," he said, "I've been looking for someone to test that on." He walked over to Neville and looked down at him, sneering. "Some Gryffindor you are," he said derisively, "And I thought you lot were supposed to be brave." Laughing, he walked away, leaving Neville lying helplessly in the middle of the corridor.
The scene changed, and they appeared to have moved backwards in time. Harry and Ron were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, talking about Quidditch and sharing Harry's sweets, on their way to Hogwarts for the very first time. Draco Malfoy was just sliding open the compartment door, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Is it true?" he said as he came in, "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" The scene played out, but Harry didn't need to watch the rest. He had been there, and he could still remember it fairly well. Instead, he looked at the present-day Draco Malfoy, who was watching his younger self with a very strange expression on his face. He looked far more vulnerable than Harry had ever seen him. No doubt, had he realised that someone was watching him – the older him, that is, rather than the younger one – he would have put his arrogant, impenetrable mask back in place, but for the moment he had let his guard down, and Harry swore he could even see tears glistening in those cold, grey eyes.
Soon, the memory finished and the scene faded to become a new one. This time, they were in a dark clearing, in the middle of which stood Draco and his mother, Narcissa.
"Don't do this, Draco!" Narcissa hissed urgently, grabbing his arm, "You don't have to do this! Please don't! You're too young!"
"Get off me, Mother," Draco snapped, shaking her off, "And be quiet! There's nothing you can say. I'm not too young, and I do have to do this."
"But, Draco-" Narcissa began, but was interrupted by a pop as a figure appeared in front of them. Harry heard a few people gasp behind him, and he had to admit it was a little scary to see Lord Voldemort standing only half a dozen metres from them, even if he was only a memory and couldn't actually hurt them. One by one, other figures popped into existence as the Death Eaters, those who weren't in Azkaban, at least, appeared, forming a circle around Draco and Narcissa. Reluctantly, Narcissa stepped away from her son and went to stand outside the circle. Not an official Death Eater, she clearly wasn't welcome in their business, though she was permitted to remain a little way away, waiting for Draco.
"Draco Malfoy," Voldemort said, in his low voice, "You wish to join our numbers?"
"Yes, my Lord," Draco said quietly.
"You are willing to obey my every command; even to torture or murder in my name?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"You will serve me, and only me, placing your obedience to me above everything else, until the day you die?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And you understand that, should you disobey one of my commands, betray me, or fail to carry out a task given to you by me, your action will result in death, not only for you, but for your entire family?"
"Y-yes, my Lord."
"Very well. Hold out your left arm." Draco did as commanded, and Voldemort pressed his wand lightly to Draco's skin. For a moment, nothing happened, and then Draco gave a scream of pain and collapsed to his knees. The Death Eaters laughed, and he looked down at his arm, which now bore the Dark Mark.
"Just remember," Voldemort said softly, "That was only a fraction of the pain you will feel should you ever fail me. Do you understand?" Still on his knees, Draco looked up at the man – if he could really be called a man – who towered over him.
"Yes, my Lord."
Before anyone could recover from that memory, they were thrown into another. They were standing on the top of the Astronomy Tower. Dumbledore was pressed up against the wall, his face white, and Draco stood with his wand pointed at Dumbledore, hand shaking violently.
"There is little time, one way or another," Dumbledore was saying, "So let us discuss your options, Draco."
"My options!" Draco retorted, doing his best impression of complete confidence, but not quite succeeding in making it convincing, "I'm standing here with a wand – I'm about to kill you – "
"My dear boy, let us have no more pretence about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first Disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."
"I haven't got any options!" Malfoy gave up completely on the tough act, "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"
"I appreciate the difficulty of you position. Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected you. I did not dare to speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you. But now at last we can speak plainly to each other … no harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived … I can help you, Draco."
"No, you can't," Draco insisted, "Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."
"Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possible imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban … when the time comes we can protect him too … come over to the right side, Draco … you are not a killer …"
"But I got this far, didn't I?" Draco said slowly, more in an attempt to convince himself than Dumbledore, "The thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here … and you're in my power … I'm the one with the wand … you're at my mercy …"
"No, Draco," Dumbledore replied quietly, "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now." Draco stared at Dumbledore. From this angle, rather than the one Harry had seen everything from the first time round, he could see Draco begin to lower his wand, clearly convinced by Dumbledore, when the door slammed open and the Death Eaters ran in. Harry was about to turn away, not wishing to see Dumbledore's death for a second time, but there was no need. The scene dissolved, and they were no longer on the top of the Astronomy Tower.
Now they were in Malfoy Manor, in the enormous drawing room. Hermione was lying on the floor, and Bellatrix stood over her.
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" A jet of light flew out of Bellatrix's wand, and Hermione screamed. The present-day Hermione gasped and hid her face in Ron's shoulder, and he hugged her tightly. Unable to watch Hermione being tortured, Harry cast his eyes around for something else to focus on and spotted the present-day Draco Malfoy, standing beside his past self. They were watching Bellatrix and Hermione with similar expressions of pity for Hermione and revulsion towards Bellatrix. Harry saw the memory Draco reach for his wand, unnoticed by everyone else in the room, as they were all watching Bellatrix and Hermione, and stare at it for a moment, indecision flickering over his face. He raised it, pointed it at Bellatrix, and then lowered it again, collapsing into the armchair behind him and burying his face in his hands.
"It's a copy, just a copy!" Hermione sobbed. Bellatrix replied sceptically, but she had stopped torturing Hermione, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief …
They were back at Hogwarts, and Draco was hurrying along with Crabbe and Goyle, following a crowd of Slytherins towards the door that led to the Room of Requirement. Suddenly, Crabbe stopped. The others looked at him impatiently.
"Come on!" Draco urged.
"Why don't we stay?" Crabbe said slowly. Draco stared at him like he was mad.
"We're not going to stay," he snapped impatiently, "We don't want to fight for Potter and the Order."
"Not to fight. We could hang back and catch Potter. And then we could bring him to the Dark Lord, and we'd be rewarded!" Draco looked reluctant.
"But-"
"But what? You scared Draco?"
"No I just-" Crabbe and Goyle were looking expectantly at him, "Oh, fine! But hurry up, before someone notices that we're not leaving." The three of them darted into a little corridor.
And suddenly they were back in the office again, all the memories over. Harry sighed with relief. Draco's memories were darker than the others had been, and he didn't think he could cope with any more at that particular moment.
"There were so many," Hermione said quietly, still a little shaken by seeing herself tortured.
"Why is that surprising?" Draco snapped, "After all, I'm the terrible Death Eater who did all sorts of awful things. Surely it makes sense that I have more to regret than all you perfect little members of the DA?"
"No I'm just surprised that you-"
"That I actually regret that stuff?" Draco asked bitterly, and when Hermione didn't deny it he continued, "I'm not as cold-hearted as you all think. I do have a conscience."
"I think I understand the later ones," Astoria said after a moment, "You regret becoming a Death Eater, and not accepting Dumbledore's offer of help. And you regret not stepping in and helping Hermione when Bellatrix was torturing her, and then agreeing to go back and try to capture Harry in the Battle of Hogwarts. But what about the first two? What do you regret about them?" Harry waited eagerly for Draco's answer, as he too had been wondering this. Draco Malfoy had bullied Neville for years, so why did he regret that memory in particular? And the one on the train made no sense at all.
Draco, however, just snapped, "None of your business, Greengrass," and turned away. Sensing that this wasn't the time for another trip into the Pensieve, and judging by his tiredness that it must be getting quite late, Harry said firmly, "Okay, we're going to sleep now. Everyone," when they started to protest he said, "We're could be stuck in here for a while, and we need to keep our strength up. We can watch more memories tomorrow."
Reluctantly, they agreed. There were cushions scattered throughout the room, some in a better state then others, and they made themselves as comfortable as possible, though the floor was hard and the room cold. Ginny, Neville, Astoria and Hannah huddled up together for warmth, and Harry would have joined them but Ginny's glare was enough to discourage that idea. Hermione was already asleep, curled up against Ron. With a pang of something like jealousy, Harry realised he wouldn't really be welcome over there either, though Ron wouldn't make it as obvious as Ginny. With a sigh, Harry lay down in one corner of the room, his body braced against the cold. The events of the day rushed around his head, but he did his best to calm his mind in an attempt to get to sleep. He would need all the rest he could get before tomorrow, of that he was sure.