A/N: Thank you to everyone who commented and followed last chapter. You make my heart sing!
Chelsea always, Good thing Narcissa's taking the reins on this one or Dramione might not ever happen! 😊
Guest, Haha, the struggle is real! There is a sadness in my heart that J.K. Rowling didn't make Dramione real. I still wait for it every time I watch the movies or read the books . . . still waiting . . .
A fan, Glad you are continuing to love it!
ElizColl, Thank you! I'm glad you think I did a good job setting this story up. Lol, yeah, I imagine Draco would have only gotten snarkier after spending time in Azkaban, so I felt like his personality had to reflect that. Plus, he's fun to write when he's crabby 😉
Let's take a look at what's in those memories, shall we? (Just a reminder that I don't own anything you recognize.)
Hermione examined the flask in her hand, turning it over a few times. She was very curious what Narcissa Malfoy's memories held.
Memories played a very critical role in the world of magical law. Of course, there were certain precautions, rules, and considerations that came into play but, overall, memories could be very telling when trying to establish the innocence or guilt of an individual.
Hermione was no stranger to viewing and assessing people's memories. She was trained to tell the real from the fake, and she had developed somewhat of a thick skin over the past few years due to the things she'd seen.
Now, as she held the flask in her hand, she felt uncertain. She recalled how Narcissa Malfoy told her things weren't as black and white as she thought. Hermione wasn't sure she agreed.
She herself had been there for some of Draco Malfoy's crimes. She recalled how he had acted in their sixth year over the time he'd been plotting Dumbledore's murder. Sure, Harry confirmed that Draco hadn't gone through with it. He even suggested that Draco may have been acting under duress, but Hermione still didn't feel convinced.
After all, Malfoy had spent months plotting the demise of another human being, injuring and almost killing others in the process. Who did that?
No one innocent . . .
Hermione picked up her briefcase and left her office, but instead of heading toward the nearest Floo to go home, she found herself climbing the stairs to the floor above her. To the Department of Mysteries where the Pensieves were kept.
Her curiosity got the better of her, and she entered one of the many small rooms set up specifically for viewing memories. She closed the door before heading toward the shallow silver basin in the middle.
Hermione took a deep breath and uncorked the small flask. She hesitated, wondering if she should have someone with her as she viewed these memories. Just what was she about to see?
Before she could talk herself out of it, she dumped the contents of the flask into the basin and leaned over until she gently fell forward. She landed on her feet and looked around.
She was in a beautiful garden on a bright sunny day. The sun warmed her face, and the faint aroma of lilacs floated around her. Not far away, a younger Narcissa Malfoy reclined on a chaise lawn chair. Narcissa lay back elegantly, dressed in a soft flowing periwinkle dress. Hermione did a double take. She couldn't remember ever seeing Narcissa Malfoy wearing anything besides black.
A few feet in front of her, a small blond boy was laughing and running across the lawn, chasing a miniature broomstick as it flew around his head. Narcissa watched him lovingly, a serene smile on her face.
Intrigued, Hermione walked closer and examined the scene.
Without a doubt, the child she saw, probably no more than five years old, was a young Draco Malfoy. He had the same pointed face, pale skin, cool gray eyes, and platinum hair. She cringed, seeing the young child with his fine hair slicked back severely like she recalled Draco wearing it in their early years of Hogwarts.
What is wrong with his parents? Well, besides the obvious . . .
However, the thing that struck her most was the look of pure innocence and joy on his face. It was completely foreign.
"Mummy! Look how high it is!" The boy pointed to the sky. "I'm going to fly that high, too!"
"Not until you're older, Draco," Narcissa said with a smile.
"When I'm bigger," the boy said decisively, "I'm going to fly as high as the moon. Or higher. Just like Father!" He took off, running in wild circles around his mother's chair.
Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help but smile. The child in front of her was adorable. She felt a painful tug at her heart as she remembered that this same sweet boy was destined to grow up to be the horrible, unfeeling man she'd seen today.
Even by the time she'd met Draco Malfoy, at the young age of eleven, the carefree innocence she saw now had already been squelched. When had it happened and how?
As if in answer to her question, a dark figure strode across the lawn.
"Father!" The little boy squealed and ran to him. Although Hermione knew she was in a memory and completely invisible to the new man entering the scene, she involuntarily shivered.
Lucius Malfoy walked toward her, looking just as cold and foreboding as she remembered him. He looked younger too but, besides that, did not seem different.
"Can we go flying, Father? On your broom?" The small version of Draco Malfoy asked, looking eagerly up at his father.
"Not now, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said evenly. "Perhaps after dinner, if you behave."
The child didn't seem perturbed by his response. Hermione wondered if he was used to it. "Okay, Father," he said, "I love flying! Can you take me on an air-row-plane sometime?" Round gray eyes looked up as the small child said the word "airplane" carefully.
"Where did you hear about that?" Lucius Malfoy demanded sharply and Narcissa's shoulders tensed.
"Thomas told me about them," young Draco replied matter-of-factly. "He said they fly in the sky like brooms, but they're so big they can carry a hundred people at a time!"
"Airplanes are for Muggles, not wizards!" Lucius grabbed his son's arm. "How many times have I told you that we don't concern ourselves with them?"
"Sorry, Father," the little boy mumbled, looking down at the ground.
"You will soon realize that the things in our world are far superior to anything you could find in the Muggle world, Draco."
"Yes, Father."
Seemingly satisfied, Lucius Malfoy released his son and walked toward Narcissa. "I don't want Draco socializing with Thomas Briggs again. Clearly, the Briggs family isn't fit for us to associate with."
"Very well," Narcissa said, almost as robotically as her son had.
"I just heard some important news, Cissa." Lucius's expression grew animated as he changed the subject. "Apparently, there has been word that the Dark Lord survived that fateful evening at the Potters'. That means . . ."
The world around Hermione shifted and the rest of Lucius Malfoy's words faded away.
Suddenly, Hermione found herself standing by a large mahogany dining table almost as long as the room itself. Three large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
At the head of the table was Lucius Malfoy, and on his left side sat Narcissa, this time dressed in her familiar black. On Lucius's right was Draco Malfoy. He was still young, but older than he'd been in the last memory. In fact, he looked very much like he had when Hermione first met him.
"Draco, darling, it's so wonderful to have you back home for the summer," Narcissa said with a smile as she surveyed a large piece of parchment. "And your grades are wonderful! We're very proud of you."
Draco smirked self-appreciatively, looking exactly like the arrogant boy Hermione remembered. Narcissa passed the parchment to Lucius, who assessed it. His nostrils flared. "Who is this Hermione Granger? Friends with Harry Potter, isn't she?"
"Yes." Draco's expression darkened at the mention of Hermione's name and she barely heard him mumble something that sounded like "bushy-haired know-it-all."
"A Muggle-born, is she not?" Lucius stared coldly his son, who nodded. "And she made top of the class over you . . . Really, Draco, to allow yourself to be beaten by a Mudblood. I'm very disappointed."
Draco scowled. "She's impossible! She's always sucking up to the professors and practically lives in the library!"
"Well, you will need to apply yourself better your second year, won't you then, Son?" Lucius said the words quietly, but Hermione could sense an unspoken threat behind them.
"Yes, Father," Draco said, casting his gaze downward.
The scene shifted again. This time, only Narcissa was present in what looked like a quaint country cottage. Hermione heard shouts and cheering from outside the house.
The door opened and Lucius strode in. "Where's Draco?"
"He's celebrating with his friends," Narcissa said, and Hermione realized the commotion outside was the celebration after the Quidditch World Cup, placing this memory just before her fourth year.
"Some of the others are planning a . . . demonstration." Lucius's gaze shifted toward the door, perhaps worried about being overheard. "I want Draco to join us. He can see what it's like."
"He's just a boy!" Narcissa folded her arms. "Let him enjoy his time with his friends."
"He won't be a boy much longer, Narcissa! He needs to learn what is expected of him. It's happening . . . soon." Lucius dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. "When the Dark Lord returns, he needs to know the Malfoy family has been loyal to him! If there is any doubt . . ."
"Let Draco be for tonight."
Lucius glared at her as he marched to the entrance of their cottage-tent. "Draco's time is coming, Narcissa! He will not disappoint me." He slammed the door.
Narcissa sighed and looked down at her hands. Hermione gazed at her, feeling sad, and the scene became slightly blurry, signifying a short passing of time.
The same door opened and Draco Malfoy rushed in, looking how Hermione remembered him from their fourth year.
"Where's Father?" he asked. "Goyle's parents said he was looking for me."
"Your father is taking care of something," Narcissa said, packing clothing into a leather bag.
"I know! Goyle's going with his father." Draco's eyes shone, and Hermione felt sickened by the excitement she saw there. "I want to go too."
"No!" Narcissa stuffed the remaining item in the bag. "You're staying with me. We'll meet your father after."
"I'm not a child, Mother! And Father wants me to come. How else am I supposed to show him that I'm ready?"
"You're not going and that's final! Now help me, we don't have much time." She handed Draco the bag, which he took begrudgingly and hoisted onto his shoulder.
A loud explosion followed by screams caused both mother and son to jump.
"Come on," Narcissa said.
The image shifted just slightly again, and Hermione found herself in a dark forest behind Draco and his mother walking with their wands alight. It was eerily familiar. She remembered racing through the same forest with Ron and Harry to escape the pandemonium at the World Cup.
"Your father asked us to meet him at the Portkey at the top of the hill," Narcissa said. "We'll need to leave quickly if the Ministry becomes involved."
"I should be with him," Draco grumbled.
Narcissa and Draco continued walking in silence. Suddenly, a yell close by made them both stop.
Not far off, Hermione heard her own young voice exclaim shrilly, "What happened?"
Draco's stare darted toward the trees. He stood there for a few moments, then pulled the bag off his shoulders and handed it to his mother. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
"Draco—" Narcissa protested, but he'd already disappeared through the thick trees. Narcissa and current-day Hermione hurried after him, then stopped when they saw him through a clearing, leaning against a tree, talking to fourth-year Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Ron shouted something rude to Draco, who replied calmly, "Language, Weasley. Hadn't you better be hurrying along." He gestured his pointy chin toward young Hermione. "You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione heard her younger self demand.
Draco sighed as if it were obvious. "Granger, they're after Muggles. Do you want to be showing your knickers off in midair? Because if you do, hang around . . . they're moving this way and it would give us all a laugh."
Hermione saw herself narrow her eyes at Malfoy, but before young Hermione had a chance to retort, Harry came to her defense. "Hermione's a witch!"
"Have it your way, Potter." Draco shot Harry a wicked smile. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."
"You watch your mouth!" Ron yelled, lunging toward Malfoy.
"Never mind, Ron." Hermione grabbed his arm and sent Draco a scathing look.
A loud bang sounded close by, startling the three friends. Draco, somehow, seemed unfazed and laughed quietly. "Scare easily, don't they? I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to—trying to rescue the Muggles?"
"Where are your parents?" Harry shot back. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"
"Well . . . if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?" Draco grinned dangerously.
"Oh, come on," young Hermione said, shooting one more repulsed look at Draco. "Let's go and find the others."
"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger!" Draco crossed his arms as he watched the trio walk away. When they were no longer in sight, he dropped his arms to his side, then turned back in the direction he'd come.
After taking a few steps, he stopped abruptly upon seeing Narcissa so close. "Mother, I—"
"So, that's the Granger girl," she said.
Draco clenched his jaw, pushing a leafy branch out of his path as he continued walking. "Idiots, all of them! Her stupid friends should've gotten her away sooner."
"Why is that?"
"Father hates her—he'd target her if he saw her."
"And you?"
"I don't—" His tense expression twisted into a scowl. "I don't really care!"
Narcissa opened her mouth to say something more but seemed to change her mind upon seeing her son's angry expression.
The scene shifted again, but Hermione almost didn't notice with the way her head was spinning in confusion. She remembered her, Harry's, and Ron's encounter with Malfoy that night quite distinctly, but this made her see it in a completely new light.
Had Malfoy been trying to warn her?
His malicious taunts were just as she recalled, but she remembered how his words that evening had made her fearful, causing her to pull Ron away abruptly. Had Malfoy actually done her a favor?
And what about the conversation she'd witnessed now between Draco and his mother after she, Harry, and Ron had left? Had Malfoy really been trying to protect her in his own strange way?
As she tried to process these questions, a new scene became clear. Hermione stood with Narcissa Malfoy outside a large mahogany door. Narcissa tapped lightly and opened it, revealing a spacious bedroom.
"Draco?" she said to her son, who was settled at a large window seat flanked by deep emerald curtains. In his lap was a large leather book that he shut hastily and shoved away from him.
"What is it, Mother?" he asked, scowling as he turned to look out the window.
Narcissa walked across the room and sat down on the other end of the window seat so she was facing her son.
"I came to see how you're feeling about tonight," she said gently.
"I feel fine." He lifted his chin. "Fantastic, in fact. Why wouldn't I?"
Hermione had no idea what they were talking about, but she could see that his shadowy eyes told a much different story than his words. He was clearly troubled. He furrowed his brow as his gaze darted from his mother's.
As Hermione assessed him further, she saw the beginnings of the changes in his face that she had noticed distinctly today—he was starting to change from a boy to a man, and she guessed this memory was somewhere around their sixth year.
"It's not too late, you know," Narcissa said, "I could talk to Severus—"
"What's Snape going to do? The Dark Lord's already decided that I'm ready."
"Are you sure you want to be one of them?"
"Of course." His voice was hard and arrogant. "I always knew I would be. It was just a matter of time."
"But—"
Draco stood up abruptly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go flying before it gets dark."
Narcissa watched her son leave the room, then pulled the book he had been reading into her lap. Curious, Hermione read the cover and saw that it was a Hogwarts yearbook. The date on it showed it was from their fifth year.
"Revelio Visum." Narcissa tapped the yearbook with her wand. Hermione recognized the spell as one that would show what the previous reader had viewed. The book shot open in Narcissa's lap, pages fluttering wildly before settling. Hermione looked closer and saw two spots glowing bright red, reminding her much of a Muggle heatmap.
The first spot glowing was Draco Malfoy's picture with a caption underneath.
Mighty is the man who upholds his family name — Salazar Slytherin.
An angry Draco Malfoy gazed stoically back at her, his mouth set in a firm line. He barely moved, just lifted his head slowly to jut out his chin as if challenging the world, folding his arms at his chest.
Hermione remembered viewing this picture and reading his quote one other time in her life. When she'd received her yearbook at the end of fifth year. She'd known exactly what it meant. Lucius Malfoy had just been arrested for the clash at the Department of Mysteries. Draco Malfoy had been announcing to the world that he was ready to step into his father's shoes and take his place.
When she'd first read it, she'd been disgusted but not surprised. Now, she felt an ache of sadness.
Tearing her eyes away from the picture of the hard boy, she did a double take when she saw where the other part of the page was glowing, even redder and more intense.
It was her.
Quite different from the picture of Draco, fifth-year Hermione looked up in the moving photograph and turned her head to the side, smiling brightly. She lifted a gentle hand to tuck one of her unruly curls behind her ears.
Underneath the photo was her own quote, which she remembered choosing proudly, considering what was going on in the wizarding world at the time. She'd been one of the few people at Hogwarts who had quoted a Muggle.
How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world — Anne Frank.
The revelation perplexed her. Draco Malfoy had apparently read and re-read the quote enough times for it to have the bright heat revelation around the words, mere hours before he'd been expected to pledge his allegiance to Voldemort.
It could only mean one of two things. That he was having second thoughts about becoming a Death Eater, or he was so consumed by hate that he was relishing the thought of soon joining Voldemort's cause and ridding the world of people like her.
Narcissa Malfoy traced a delicate finger over the red outline of Hermione's picture and her quote, then closed the book with a sigh.
The memory faded away and Hermione felt a desperate longing to stay there and learn more. Had that been the night Draco Malfoy took the Dark Mark? And, if so, how had he really felt about doing it? But those questions were not to be revealed to her. Her vision cleared and she looked around.
She was at Malfoy Manor again, following Narcissa Malfoy as she led Fenrir Greyback, the Snatchers, Ron, Harry, and Hermione herself down a long hall she remembered too well. It looked the same, from the dim lighting to the dark décor.
Narcissa threw open a set of large doors, and the group entered a grand drawing room where Draco and his father sat around the fireplace.
It was that night. Hermione's breathing turned shallow and her ears roared as she looked upon the room, feeling a horrible sensation of déjà vu.
She couldn't watch this again. She couldn't relive it. But she was also too frozen to move, and so, the scene began to unfold before her.
The memory that had long haunted her nightmares was now playing again, from a slightly different view.
As the trio were dragged to the middle of the room, Hermione saw a look of horror cross Draco Malfoy's face as he recognized them. A look she had never noticed her first time there. His eyes lingered on memory-Hermione and he swallowed thickly, then averted his gaze.
"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa said. "Draco, come here."
Hesitantly, Draco walked toward his mother and the three prisoners. He stopped a considerable distance from them as Lucius Malfoy demanded, "Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
"I can't—I can't be sure," Draco replied, sounding strained.
Lucius pressed a hand to Harry's distorted forehead and whispered, "There's something here . . . it could be the scar." He turned back to Draco. "Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"
As Draco slowly walked closer, Lucius grabbed him by the back of his neck and forced him to look at Harry face-to-face. "Draco, if we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, all will be forgiven . . ."
Draco regarded Harry for a few moments, then said, "I don't know." He wrested from his father's grasp and went to stand by his mother at the fireplace.
"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa said. "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?" Fenrir Greyback pushed Hermione into the light.
"Wait—yes." Narcissa eyed Hermione. "Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"
"I . . . maybe . . ." Draco's eyes didn't meet captive Hermione's, instead they shifted around the room until they met his mother's. ". . . yeah."
Hermione had already realized the first time she was here that Draco seemed reluctant to identify her, but she'd still felt angry when he had.
Now, she wondered if he'd only done it because she was apparently so easily recognized by his family—his father because of his hatred for her and his mother because of their encounter at the World Cup. If Draco hadn't admitted it was her, Lucius likely would have known he was lying about Harry.
"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" Lucius's excitement was growing. "It's them, Potter's friends—Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name—?"
Draco had already turned his back to the three friends, but he mumbled, "Yeah, it could be."
Suddenly, the door crashed open and Bellatrix Lestrange strode into the room. "What is this? What's happened, Cissy?"
Hermione felt her blood run cold upon seeing the evil women again, seemingly alive, mere feet away. Hermione's hands began to shake, and her head spun. Before she could stop herself, she was stumbling backward, away from the memory. She felt a floating sensation as she left the scene behind and landed, feet first, on the Ministry floor.
Hermione's breathing was ragged, and she struggled to compose herself. Her terror was so extreme, she hadn't been able to finish watching the memory. With shaky hands, Hermione extracted the memories from the Pensieve, placing them back in the vial.
She didn't know what Narcissa had wanted her to see in that last memory, she only knew she couldn't finish viewing it. At least, not now, not alone.
She thought for a moment about taking it to Harry and having him view it with her, but she quickly realized she couldn't do that to him. She knew he and Ron were still haunted by hearing her screams above them while they were locked in the Malfoys' cellar.
She knew they both blamed themselves for not getting to her sooner and stopping her torture, which was ridiculous. They were not to blame. Only Bellatrix Lestrange—and the Malfoys and the Snatchers—were responsible for what happened to her that night. But she couldn't ask Harry to relive it with her.
Hermione pocketed the vial and left the room, heading toward the nearest Floo.
Except for the last memory that she hadn't been able to finish viewing, Hermione sensed a theme among the memories Narcissa Malfoy had shared.
In some way or another, they seemed to be designed to make Hermione feel sorry for Draco Malfoy. Also, some of the memories seemed to be related to Hermione herself. To show her . . . what exactly?
That Draco Malfoy didn't hate her? Hermione found it hard to believe. What was an act or two of consideration and hesitation compared to a lifetime of loathing and insults?
Did Narcissa think that by showing her these memories she would sway Hermione into wanting to help defend Draco Malfoy in court?
Hermione shook her head as she stepped into the fireplace and threw her Floo powder down. She didn't know what to make of everything she'd just seen, but she knew she had a lot to think about.
A/N: I hope you liked that chapter! If you have a moment, please drop a comment and let me know what you thought. Did you have a favorite memory?
You can follow me on Twitter (CeceLAuthor) or Facebook (CeceLouiseAuthor) for sneak peeks at chapters before I post them. Next chapter we get to see Draco and Hermione together again! If you can't find me, go to my website and use the links there (Cece Louise dot com).