Chapter 13

The first two days at the Burrow were increasingly difficult for Hermione. The fact that her parents were missing, there had been no positive word from Harry or Ron and now she didn't even so much as schoolwork to keep her mind preoccupied. Not that she was even keeping up on her work anyway. Going back to her family's empty home and just being by herself to wallow was what she was really hoping she could do. Instead, she was trapped in a noisy, packed full house. And as much as she loved the Weasley family, she was not in the right state of mind to be completely coddled by the family. They however, refused to let her be alone.

The days before her and Ginny had left Hogwarts was the best she had felt in the previous two weeks. Malfoy hadn't treated her like she was made completely of glass, but he could see that she was hurting and tried his best to keep her spirits up. He had known that she needed to be sad, but to look at the bright side as well.

The Weasleys, however, were dead set on convincing her that she shouldn't feel sad at all. While Hermione didn't want to drag everyone else's holiday down, she couldn't bring herself to be constantly cheerful, like they were expecting her to be. It was almost painful to keep a fake smile on her face all day long.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Harry and Ron to find her parents, it's just that things weren't looking promising. Her parents had, for whatever reason, up and moved from Australia and then had deserted their home in France. Hermione's mind had agonized over every possible scenario and she had settled on the fact that her parents were taken by Death Eaters as a continued rebellion of the death of Voldemort.

Unable to keep up the hope that her parents would be found and returned to their normal state, it seemed as though her future holidays were to be spent at the Burrow with her somewhat adoptive family. At least they had welcomed her with open arms and were willing to take her in if at all necessary, even if they were smothering her at the moment.

Hermione was hiding in the room she shared with Ginny flipping through a magazine when there was a knock at the door. She slapped the pages closed and leaned her head back against the wall. Molly had sent Ginny up every fifteen minutes in hopes that Hermione would join them for dinner, a dinner which Hermione had zero appetite for.

"Gin," she groaned. "I told you I'm not hungry. I'll come down when I am."

"Well if that were the case then I'm sure the Weasleys will be waiting forever for you to join them."

She practically jumped out of her skin at the deeper familiar voice that spoke through the door. Definitely not Ginny. She leapt from the bed, scrambling across the messy room to reach the doorknob. Once the door was flown open, she could hardly contain herself upon seeing her two best friends standing in the doorway that she practically tackled them to the ground.

"Oh I'm so glad you're back and in one piece," she exclaimed as she threw an arm around both of their necks.

"Glad to see you were worried about us," Ron barely choked out due to the grip Hermione had around his neck.

"Well, how did it go?" she whispered, stepping back from them. Uncertainty bubbled in her gut. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer, but it was better to just rip off the bandage as soon as possible.

Harry just slowly grinned in return. "Come downstairs and find out."

"Let me send an owl really quick and I'll be down," she said already turning to the small cluttered desk in the corner. Her handwriting was sloppy as she hopped in place as she wrote. Positive news or not, it seemed they had news to share. And based on the smile on Harry's face, it was the news she had hoped would be true— not the outcome her rational brain had concluded was true. After handing the small note to Ron's owl Pig, Hermione followed the boys down the steps at an alarming rate.

"Damn, woman. I've never seen you move that fast before," Ron grunted out as Hermione pushed him into the wall on her way down the stairs.

"I think she broke my glasses," she heard on the stairs behind her. She couldn't care less at that moment.

Hermione's feet skidded to a halt when she saw the two heads of brown hair sitting at the table in the Weasley kitchen. Every head in the room turned toward her and had the same sympathetic expression pasted on their faces.

The two brunettes slowly turned to look at the commotion and lacked any recognition as their eyes scanned their daughter's face.

"No," Hermione breathed, her voice catching in her throat.

"Oh hello there, dear," her mother said cheerfully. "Are you friends with our son?"

"Your… your what?" Hermione whispered.

She felt a weight on her shoulder as Ron and Harry came up behind her, Harry placing his hand on her shoulder in support.

"Maybe we should talk in the other room," He muttered to her.

The other room? Hermione could barely see straight in this room, what made him think she was going to make it into the other room?

She must have somehow made it into the other room, because she suddenly realized she was sitting on a beat up red orange sofa with Harry and Ron on either side of her.

"What.. what happened?" She asked quietly. "They have a son?"

It had only been a little over a year since she had seen them last. It was possible that they could have had another child in that amount of time, or perhaps even adopted. Her mother had told her once they had wished for a larger family, for her to have siblings. Once they were unable to have anymore children, they formed an even stronger bond with their only child. Perhaps when they found themselves childless in Australia, they had decided to welcome another into their supposed family of two.

"No they don't," Harry broke through her cluttered thoughts. "They were starting to get some vague memories back. That's why they moved to Paris, because they had lived there for awhile before you were born. It wasn't that they had those memories back specifically, just that they knew about that home and they felt comfortable there. The reason why they left it was because they had another vague feeling that they had a child that was lost."

Hermione took a deep shuttering breath. "But they don't remember me?"

Harry hung his head sadly and took her hand in his. "Unfortunately no."

"We were hoping that when they saw you, they would remember who you were," Ron piped in. "Half the trip back they kept asking if we were their sons or if we were friends with their son. So the parental feeling is still there and pretty strong in them."

Harry sat back, hand still clutched in hers, lost in his own thoughts for a few moments while Ron muttered apologies to Hermione.

Harry suddenly sat forward as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Hermione," he said quickly. "You didn't do a typical Obliviate on them did you?" He nodded thoughtfully when she shook her head. "I figured, because who starts to gain certain memories and feelings when they've been Obliviated?" He began to mumble so low under his breath that they others couldn't hear him anymore.

Hermione softly squeezed his hand to direct his attention back to her. "Harry, what are you thinking?"

"What did you do differently with your spell?"

"I tweaked it a bit so that it was more temporary. But when I cast it, I had hopes that it would wear off in about five to ten years. That way if we lost, they would be safe for awhile," she said quickly when she spotted the shocked looks on her friends faces.

"Maybe you cast it wrong," Ron mumbled, followed quickly by a punch in the arm from Hermione.

"I did not cast it wrong, Ronald. Whatever the case, it shouldn't be wearing off yet, and if it was it seems to be doing it all wrong." Hermione sat back herself to think for a moment. "I would say I could try reversing it, but I don't want to end up permanently damaging their memories."

"Well we could try taking them to St. Mungos," Ron suggested.

"Probably not that great of an idea," Harry replied. "Memory charms are somewhat illegal. Even if she did modify the charm, Hermione could still get reported for it."

"I'll try it," Hermione declared. "I want to do some research first though before I try anything."

The boys both nodded their heads in agreement.

"Why do they think they are here?" Hermione asked. They had to have had a decent cover story to get two worried parents to stop exploring for their lost child.

"They think this is a bed and breakfast and they're on holiday."

A bit of a weak excuse, but it would have to do. At least for a little while. It could buy her enough time to research before they got tired of waiting around and left to search for their 'son'.

"Brilliant. I'm going to do some research for a bit," she said getting up from the sofa. "Oh and thank you, guys." She turned around and grabbed each of their hands.

She was rewarded with a squeeze of the hand and a smile from each boy.

"Of course, Hermione," Harry said.

"Why wouldn't we?" Said Ron.

Hermione gave each of their hands another squeeze before heading back to her room.

There was a beautiful brown and gray eagle owl sitting by the window when she entered the room. She grabbed the letter from the bird's talons and patted his head in thanks as she took a seat at the beat up desk.

She opened the letter and smiled when she recognized the handwriting.

I'm glad that Potter and Weasley are capable of doing their jobs. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I'm assuming they found your parents then? Is it good news? Are you okay?

D.M.

She smiled at the words on the page. She could just picture the smirk that would accompany the letter. His last line of worry was also comforting to her— it was nice to know that he wanted to make sure she was feeling alright with the results, whatever they may be.

She took out a fresh parchment and wrote out a reply.

They really are quite capable at their jobs. My parents have been found, but they seem to be having an odd reaction to the memory charm. If you're available later for a Floo call, I can explain it all in more detail and you can let me know your thoughts.

H.G.

She sent her letter back with the owl and had just started digging through her pile of books when the bird returned with another reply.

7 sound good?

D

….

Draco knew that Granger was brilliant. Hell, everyone knew it. But he couldn't believe that she had modified a memory charm to wear off on its own in a set time frame. He had heard of other wizards in history who had tried, but had failed at modifying memory charms to be that specific.

The two of them spent the next day reviewing their books and notes on the subject, to no avail. Granger's letters were getting shorter and less optimistic as time ticked away. She was more hesitant to accept his Floo calls and when he did get her to speak with him, her voice got quieter and more forlorn. Draco suggested he take a look in the back section of the Manor's library, since his father had been an avid collector of all books on magical theory. This lit a tiny spark in her.

Draco was happy to search the entire library if that's what it took.

He had been sifting through the stack of books he had accumulated for over an hour when he noticed a note tucked in the pages of a rugged looking book that was falling apart on the spine. It had the words Timed Memory written in the top corner of the parchment. He quickly pulled it out to read the rest.

Time Memory

Anthony and I have been testing on subjects on the matter of time orientated memories. We want to see if memory charms can wear off in a specific time. After twenty-five subjects, we have found that most charms don't last past two years. However, the subjects have seemed to switch certain functions. Test subject 13 was once left handed, and has now become right handed. Test subject 5 once loved the outside, but now fears the sun. And test subject 8 use to be able to cast the Patronus charm, but is now having difficulty. None of these functions seem to be life threatening. Anthony and I found that the subjects are able to gain their memories back with less side effects when placed under another modified memory charm. The caster of the spell must say the word Restituate while picturing the crucial lost memories of the subject to ensure no side effects. If this spell is cast within the two year timeframe, the subjects will gain their most crucial memories, and their minuscule memories within a few months of the spell. We do not recommend time memory charms to anyone as they do not have a lasting effect.

There looked to be a few more sentences on the subject, but the parchment had a piece torn from the bottom, leaving the rest of the parchment unreadable.

Draco laid down the paper and leaned back until he was laying on the floor looking at the ceiling. He couldn't believe he found the solution to the exact situation that Granger was in. It was as though someone had left this exact parchment there for him to find.

He was skeptical at first that he would find much information as his father wasn't partially proficient in charms, let alone memory charms. He had only thought that the amount of books in the family library dated back so far that there was bound to be some inkling of knowledge on the subject. It seemed as though his family's partial need to hoard everything of history had pulled through for him.

Draco leaped up from the floor and sauntered to his room to send news to Granger. He sat at his desk and wrote a quick note to include with the parchment he had found.

I believe a thank you is required.

You're welcome, Granger.

D.M.

He sat back and grinned as he watched his owl Hercules fly off into the night.

He was happy to have found the answer he was beginning to think hadn't existed. After all she had gone through, Granger deserved to be happy. He hated seeing her so depressed when they were at Hogwarts. He just hoped that the spell worked.

A soft knock pulled him from his thoughts.

His mother's blonde head poked into the room.

"Oh good you're still up."

"Yeah what's wrong? Are you alright?" Draco asked standing up from the desk.

"Yes, I'm quite alright," his mother said as she made her way into the room, sitting on the armchair near the fireplace. "I was thinking about going to see your father tomorrow."

Draco's stride halted. He knew his mother still loved his father, they had loved each other since their time at Hogwarts, but Draco felt very protective of his mother.

Sure he still had some feelings left for the man, he was his father. It was just hard to look past all that his father had put them through during the war. After he had been taken to Azkaban, Draco was fine with not having to see his father's face on a daily basis. He was especially fine with not leaving his mother alone with him. She might have forgiven Lucius, but he was far from forgiveness.

"Why the bloody hell would you do that?"

Narcissa tsked at him. "Language, Draco. I was thinking it would be nice to pay a visit to him before Christmas."

"No. You're not going. Especially not alone," he stated.

"I was hoping you'd come with me," she replied quietly.

Draco scoffed. "There's no way in hell I would ever go visit him. Mother, have you not forgotten what he did to you? To us? What kind of hell we had to live with here? No. Absolutely not."

Hurt flashed in Narcissa's eyes quickly before they then flashed with anger.

"Of course I haven't forgotten, I was here too. I live with it on a daily basis, but there was a war," she hissed out the last word. "You can't hold everyone accountable for the things they've done to stay alive during a war. The two of us have been forgiven in the eyes of society because of that very reason. If the rest of the wizarding community can forgive us why can't we forgive your father?"

"Because he was supposed to protect us!" Draco bellowed. "That's what the head of the family is supposed to do; protect his family. He failed and used us as pawns to gain power for himself. He's a selfish bastard and I refuse to see him."

Narcissa flinched volume of his voice. There was a slight quiver to his lip, but he turned his head before she could see it. When he turned back his eyes were cold and defiant. He had made up his mind and she was not going to change it.

"Alright, well, I'll just leave you to it then," she finally muttered out. "It was just a suggestion, but I can see that your mind is made up."

Draco crossed his arms and nodded firmly. "It is," he bit out coldly. "Goodnight, Mother." He gestured to the door, showing her out.

"You will change your mind," she said softly touching his cheek. "Goodnight, darling."

Draco pushed the door shut firmly behind his mother and slid down the length of it to the floor. He blew out a breath of frustrated air.

"Fuck."

….

Hermione closed her eyes and tried her best to picture the life her and her parents had shared. Based on the instructions Malfoy had sent her, she did her best to focus on the significant moments in her life.

She waved her wand before her parents faces and spoke clearly, "Restituate."

There was an almost purple mist that emanated from her wand and circled her parent's faces. The glittering fog then swirled around their heads before it seemed to seep into their brains, restoring their happy memories with their daughter. Her parents facial expressions turned from bored to a look of tranquility.

Hermione stepped back, giving the charm time to do its work. She bounced on the balls of her feet, wishing with every fiber in her being that this would work.

Their eyes fluttered open and glanced around, taking in their very peculiar surroundings. The Weasleys were all gathered around the smaller family, watching closely.

Mrs. Granger quirked up a brow when she made eye contact with George who was nodding profusely. Her eyes made it around to entire room before settling finally on her daughters face.

Her mother opened her arms and whispered her name. Tears pricked Hermione's eyes and a gasp caught in her throat. Without a second thought, Hermione ran to her parents arms and sobbed with them as they held each other desperately.

"I was so worried you wouldn't remember me ever again," Hermione sobbed into her father's shoulder.

"Not to worry, muffin," her dad said running a hand down the back of her hair. "We're here now."

The family made their way to the living room, the red headed family giving them the space they needed. Hermione sat on the couch between her parents, holding both of their hands, tears pouring down her face.

While they were happy to see their daughter again, Hermione's parents were hurt and perplexed why their daughter would erase herself from their memories. That led to a deep discussion of the war in the wizarding world. Her parents had had no idea that she was in so much danger for half her life. Her father had paced the room, pointing out that he had been hesitant to send her to '"that school" in the first place. Her mother had calmed him down stating that they had no choice in the matter as told to them by Professor McGonagall.

The biggest grievance they had was that Hermione felt the need to hide all of this from them, even if it was for their own good. They could never understand the other world she was now part of, but wanted to make an effort to be in her life, no matter what that looked like.

She hadn't realized how long they had been cooped up in the living room recounting the last 7 years of her life until Harry poked his head in to inform them dinner was ready.

Throughout their conversation, her parents memory appeared as though it was back completely, untarnished. The real test came once they were seated for dinner and Molly served Richard Granger a spoonful of carrots. He wrinkled his nose and turned toward his daughter to ask if he liked the orange vegetable.

"Yes, Dad. It's broccoli you don't like," Hermione replied quietly.

"Okay, I don't like broccoli. Got it," he replied piercing a carrot with his fork. He made a face when he put the carrot in his mouth, but he continued to chew and swallow it anyway.

"It was so nice of you to welcome us into your home, Molly," Helen Granger said smiling at the plump redhead filling her plate.

Molly Weasley smiled down at the mother. "Of course. Hermione is like another member of our family. You are always welcome here."

The meal continued in relative silence until Arthur tried making small talk about muggle appliances.

"So you can warm up old food with a touch of a button. Fascinating," he beamed.

The Grangers were excited to have a subject they knew about that was interesting to discuss with a wizard that they both got swept up in the conversation.

Hermione glanced across the table at her two best friends and grinned. Thank you she mouthed to them. They both shrugged and grinned back.

She really had the best friends in the whole world. She was going to miss them when she had to return to Hogwarts in a few weeks time.

She was also going to miss her parents now that she had them back, but it was comforting to know that they were going to be waiting for her in her childhood home at the end of the year.

…..

The hours ticked by and Draco could still not sleep. His mind was busy with thoughts of Granger. He still had not heard back from her if the spell had worked or not. He was starting to suspect that it had not and she was too upset to respond to his letters.

He also couldn't stop his mind from drifting to the conversation he had earlier with his mother. He refused to pay a visit to his father. He knew that if he did, Lucius would manipulate Draco into apologizing and he refused to let that happen. What his father had done was wrong, even if he was just trying to survive. He should have been trying to protect his family instead of just himself.

He lay on his sofa with his head resting on the arm of the couch. He had grown quite a bit since he had last rested like this and his feet lay over the edge of the other arm. Maybe tomorrow he would send a house elf to get a new sofa. He bent his knees in an effort to get more comfortable.

His fireplace lit up with green blazing flames just before a figure stepped through. The flames died down and in their place stood Theo Nott.

"Oh please stop. I could feel you brooding from home. It's like a goddamn beacon. Don't you do anything else?" he asked plopping into the chair next to the sofa Draco was sprawled across.

Draco groaned in frustration. "Go away, Nott," he snarled, annunciating each syllable.

"Oh quit being so dramatic," Theo said with a wave of his hand. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

A few minutes ticked by as Draco contemplated on telling his friend what was on his mind. Theo was his oldest friend and had been with him through the toughest moments of his life. He had seen the worst parts of him and still stood by his side.

"My mother wants to pay a visit to Lucius," Draco snipped.

Theo just blinked, unsure what to say for the first time in his life. He took out his wand and mumbled something Draco couldn't hear.

His intention was apparent when moments later a bottle of firewhisky was pouring itself into a glass near Draco's head. He grabbed the glass, leaned up and took a long swig from the glass. The bottle immediately drifted back over, refilling his empty glass.

"Damn. How well did that go over?" Theo asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Well you're here serving me a drink. What do you think?"

"Would it help if I stopped talking and we got blind drunk?"

Draco turned his head, smirking at his friend. "Immensely."

Theo only smiled as he poured another glass.