A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).

A/N 2: I had to update some spelling errors!

-TNHGTNHGTN-

The next day at breakfast Hermione approached Professor McGonagall and requested permission to use her Pensieve. The old professor was hesitant at first but after Hermione pleaded the Scottish woman relented, though she was not happy Hermione wouldn't tell her what she needed the device for. She gave Hermione a firm pat on the hand, and with a look full of questions simply told her that she would be allowed access to the Pensieve at approximately half seven that Friday night, during the evening feast.

Hermione enjoyed her Thursday classes, even if she had felt the weight of the memories in her pocket the entire time. She had thought about leaving them in her room, but she was worried that Nott would change his mind and steal them away before she had gotten a chance to look at them. If he really asked her not to watch them she would respect his decision, but she wanted him to have to face her in order to change his mind. So, the memories stayed in her pocket safely the entire day.

In D.A.D.A. Hermione sat herself down next to Harry and got out her materials for the class. Professor Jacobson hurried down the stairs from his office, opting not to jump over the bannister like he usually did.

"Good Afternoon, class!" He announced as he made it down the final step, "I hope everyone has been having a wonderful week." There were several murmurs of agreement as he moved to his usual position of sitting on top of his desk. The sunlight streaming in through the window caused his hair to show brilliant red highlights throughout the usually dark brown hair."That's great. Today we are going to have to discuss some dark things. Ideally, everyone will participate in the discussions we will be having, but if at any time you feel incapable of participating, you are more than welcome to leave the class without need for explanation, understand?" Everyone nodded their agreement, "Ok, so...I would like to impose a philosophical question to you. Why is it that the Killing Curse is considered an Unforgivable?"

The class was silent for a few moments before Terry Boot answered in a deep voice, "Because it kills whoever it is aimed at." The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes at the easy question before leaning back in his chair.

"That is true Mr. Boot, but so does Fiendfyre." Boot's brow scrunched in confusion before nodding slowly as if he hadn't considered that. Everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats as they sat there waiting for the professor to explain why the Killing Curse was deemed an Unforgivable. The Professor on the other hand seemed to be waiting for another student to take a guess. After several awkward minutes of silence when there were no other guesses forthcoming Professor Jacobson jumped down from his desk. Several heads instantly lowered to their papers, knowing that if their professor was walking around he would be picking students randomly to answer the question. For some reason the students believed that if they didn't make eye contact they would be invisible to him, and therefore safe from class participation. Finally, Professor Jacobson stopped at a desk near the back and prompted, "Mr. Malfoy?" Malfoy had been keeping his eyes on his desk since the beginning of the discussion, and still refused to look up, "Why is the Killing curse an Unforgivable?"

Hermione watched as Draco slowly brought his head up, his eyes briefly flicking to Nott and then to her as he cleared his throat."There is no other use for this curse," He whispered, "The killing curse was designed with one purpose, and it cannot be used for anything other than fulfilling that purpose. With Fiendfyre you could destroy a horcrux, or fight off inferi." His eyes flicked to Nott again before he cleared his throat and spoke slightly louder, "With other spells or curses you can adjust the power to make them hurt your opponent slightly, or do maximum damage. With an Avada...you are only going to kill someone."

"Exactly, twenty points to Slytherin!" Professor Jacobson intoned, before continuing, "So, would you consider that the worst of the three Unforgivables then?" Mafloy shook his head slightly. When it appeared like Malfoy was not going to proceed Professor Jacobson lightly cued him,"Well?"

"The Imperius is worse." Malfoy sighed out simply.

"Care to elaborate," Professor Jacobson inquired as he turned around walking back down the aisle and towards the front of the classroom. When he reached the front he turned around and faced the Slytherin.

"I would rather die than have someone have complete control of my mind ever again." Malfoy answered simply.

"Anyone else care to expand on what Mr. Malfoy just said?"

"The Cruciatus." Hermione heard the words leave her mouth, but she didn't remember speaking them. Malfoy and Nott both looked at her intently, as did the rest of the class. She didn't really feel the other students stares though as she locked eyes with the two Slytherins. Professor Jacobson waited patiently for her to continue, and after taking several deep steadying breaths she did. "I-I think that the Cruciatus is worse than the Imperius curse." Hermione felt Harry put a warm hand on her back. She barely noticed herself grab her forearm and rub it unconsciously, "I would rather be under the Imperius than the Cruciatus."

"Have you ever been under the Imperius?" Malfoy questioned quietly on the other side of the room. She shook her head slightly, "Then you don't know." His eyes flicked to Harry's, "Potter, you've been under all three. Which is worse?"

"I would have to say that I don't really fancy being under any of them ever again." Harry replied, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on the edge of his robe.

"That's the thing though isn't it?" Seamus joined in from the back of the room, "It would depend on the person who is under the curses preferences."

"Excellent observation, Mr. Finnigan." The professor began writing on the black board then, "I want you to spend the weekend writing an essay on the origins of each curse along with which curse you would least want to be subjected to. Twelve inches at least." The rest of the class was spent discussing how these three curses had become illegal in the first place, along with a long discussion about how people were forgiven for casting these curses during the war. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep her eyes from traveling back to Nott, who had remained quiet and passive during the entire exchange.

-TNHGTNHGTN-

After dinner that Friday, Hermione rose from the Gryffindor table, and with a look in Nott's direction gave him a nod that she hoped conveyed what she was about to do. It seemed to work because Hermione barely made it twenty steps outside of the Great Hall when the familiar sound of footsteps approached her.

"Granger," drawled the cool indifferent voice of Malfoy.

"Yes?" She tried not to seem like she was in a hurry but she couldn't help but glance behind her shoulder in the direction of the Head Mistresses office. Malfoy had his arms crossed, and leaned back on his feet in a somewhat guarded pose. He looked more tired than she had seen him since before sixth year, with dark circles under his eyes and a drawn face. His normally pristine oxford was wrinkled and his pants were lacking their normal crease from good ironing. He watched her wearily for a few seconds, glancing behind him to make sure there was no one else following them he began to speak quietly.

"Theo sent me. He said that...well he said he gave you memories?" The last part of the sentence was inclined as a question. He stood there, torchlight flickering across his blond hair, and pale grey eyes as he awaited her response. She eyed him for a moment before reaching into her robe pocket and revealing the small glass vial of tears.

Malfoy's eyes went wide. He stared at the vial for several minutes before shaking his head causing his blond hair to fall down on his pale forehead. He coughed and swallowed a few times as if trying to clear his throat, "He wants me to go with you...for after." Malfoy kept his voice low, but his eyes never left the vial.

"Maybe I want to do this alone." She stated before turning on her heel and walking back in the direction of the office. Malfoy let her turn a corner of the corridor before grabbing her shoulder and flinging her around to face him.

"Damnnit Granger this isn't a game." He ran his long fingers through his hair, causing it to stick up at odd ends, oddly reminiscent of the way Harry's own black tresses tended to do, "Theo told me he really wasn't emotionally stable when he handed you those. Do you know what that means?" She gave him an incredulous look before rolling her eyes.

"Of course I do. But I am sure whatever residual memories got locked into the vial with the ones he wants me to see will be fine. I can handle-"

"No you can't." Malfoy cut her off, his voice raised so much it nearly echoed off the stone walls, "Not because I think you're weak or something like that." He responded quickly when her eyes flashed at him dangerously, "You have no idea what he's been through. No Granger listen-" he exclaimed as she opened her mouth to talk, she closed her lips but narrowed her eyes in anger, "If even one of the memories he has kept locked away happened to make it past his barriers you are going to have trouble looking him in the eye again. Not because you fear him or don't trust him but because you will not understand how he is still standing. How do you think he knew about your panic attacks before the rest of us? How do you think he knew what they were?"

She thought about it for a moment. She thought about how he almost always knew what to do to make it better when she was having a bad day. Her mind was drawn to a particularly painful day in October when her chest had felt tight like someone was sitting on it from the moment she woke up all the way to the end of D.A.D.A.. At the end of class, Theo had taken her and Draco outside to the courtyard and confiscated their bags and books. He had made them lay on a blanket he had transfigured from his own scarf. In the middle of the small field that led down to the Black Lake they had laid together and watched the sky as it had darkened. They spoke in quiet tones the whole time, occasionally pointing out clouds that took familiar shapes. Once it was dark, Theo had cast a simple charm that had caused small lights to circle the group like stars in the sky. She smiled slightly at the memory but then furrowed her brow. She hadn't told him she was upset, he had just seemed to know. He always knew.

"He has been through so fucking much, and he knows some of his memories might cause negative reactions for you." Malfoy motioned towards her with one pale hand, as the other was jammed into the pocket of his trousers, "He can't watch them, that's why he locked them away with his Occlumency. He did it so he couldn't feel that pain anymore. So he could make it through a day without feeling like he was drowning. Lucky for both of us I have happened to see some of what he has gone through first hand so he trusts me to help you if you need it."

Draco didn't sound like it was lucky that he had seen them at all. He sounded defeated, "So, like it or not I am coming with that bushy head of yours as you plunge it into the water. Besides I am pretty sure that those curls will drag you under if they get wet, and you will end up drowning yourself. Someone needs to be there to pull you up if necessary. They must weigh a ton when wet." He gave her a weak smile at the end of his explanation and started off in the direction of the Head Mistress' Office.

She considered asking Professor McGonagall for a new day to watch the memories, and just refusing to tell either Slytherin about it. She was worried that this might be her only chance to see them though, and her curiosity was getting the better of her as she stood still in the hallway. Taking a deep breath she hurried after the blond as her mind whirled. Surely Malfoy was exaggerating. There was no way that what Nott went through compared to being hunted, attacked, and tortured for seven years. Not to mention what Malfoy went through at being a Death Eater at sixteen, and having to save your mother from being killed by a murderous psychopath.

They had finally made it inside McGonagall's office using the password McGonagall had given Hermione. The office was significantly more clean than it had been when Dumbledore had been headmaster. Gone were the numerous trinkets and devices that had lined the walls and tables. There was still a perch next to the desk itself, but instead of a Phoenix there now sat a sleepy Barred owl. It hooted at them once, before disappearing through a small circular window towards the top of the room. There were several new bookshelves lining the walls, and a comfy looking seating area off next to the fireplace. They were standing in front of the door to the Pensieve waiting for it to register their need for it so the device would float out like it always did.

"Are you going in with me?" Malfoy shook his head slightly.

"He asked me not to. He said they're not for me to see. I am just here for when you come back out." She let a breath out through her nose, her hand clenching over the vial of memories as they waited in the quiet of the office.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy out for an evening stroll," a familiar voice seeped into the room at the speed of cold syrup. Hermione glanced up and saw a portrait just above where the Pensieve was located. A familiar pale face with long greasy black hair stared at her with one eyebrow cocked in confusion at the peculiar scene in front of him.

"Severus," Malfoy responded. "Hermione is here to watch some memories."

"Oh...whose?" Their former potions professor asked. He had started to lean against a plush chair that was included in his painting as he eyed his Godson.

"You don't want to know." Malfoy responded quietly as the door to the Pensieve finally opened and the device floated towards them. Another voice drew their attention behind them as the device crept closer.

"No, we really are curious. Not a lot of interesting things happen when you are just painting on the wall. Two of my favorite students skipping dinner, however, to come up here and watch memories? Now that's intriguing to say the least." Professor Dumbldores portrait chuckled while peering at them from over his half moon spectacles.

"Theodore Nott's" Hermione told Dumbldore, as she uncorked the vial and poured the memories into the Pensieve. The thick liquid spilled from the vial creating a seemingly endless stream of white for several seconds before the last bit hit the water with an audible plop.

"Miss Granger," Snape intoned from his place on the wall, "Why would Mr. Nott give you his memories?"

"I don't believe that is any of your business," Hermione replied hastily, blinking at the Pensieve. She felt Draco shift next to her nervously as the memories swirled within the liquid.

"No, I suppose it's not." Snape's voice seemed to crawl through the room as she gathered her courage. "Do you know much about his history?"

"No."

"Mmmm, well let me give you a little advice." Professor Snape waited for her chocolate eyes to lock on his dark ones before he continued, "Remember that what has happened is in the past. It's nothing you can change, and it's nothing you can fix." Snape's voice bordered boredom as he investigated his canvas nails.

"You are simply an observer to this boy's memories, not a participant." Dumbledore called from his frame, "Know that it has taken a great deal of trust for him to allow you to see what he has offered."

Hermione gave both painted men a small nod before moving closer to the Pensieve. She hesitated for a moment, but then she felt Draco give her hand a small reassuring squeeze. Feeling slightly better she took a deep breath. Right as she plunged her head down into the Pensieve she heard Snape mutter a quiet, "Good luck," as she entered the awaiting memories of Lord Theodore Nott.

-TNHGTNHGTN-

dysfunctionaldilusion: First let me say thank you for all of your amazing reviews. I know you think I dont see you commenting almost every chapter, but I do and it means a lot. I actually have another fanfic in mind...a Dramione Lycanthropy one...but I want to know how this one's reception before I dedicate myself to another! So, maybe that will come to fruition. Thank you for your quesiton!