AN: Hey, again! (Yawn) I'm up really late trying to get this chapter out to ya'll, so ya better like it! LoL! B'bye!
Thanks to: My new reviewers, and of course the old!
Chapter Ten: Memory
Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk. The many ticking and whirring of his large collection of silver instruments had a calming effect on the man. The large phoenix sat atop his desk. Fawkes chirruped his unusual musical song.
A grinding sound announced the arrival of a tall man. Without looking up from a large bowl sitting in front of him, Dumbledore greeted his guest, "So nice to see you, Severus."
"Albus, they have made a bond of sorts," Snape announced the wanted information. He paid close attention to any reaction the old man got from the news; he still had no clue why the Headmaster had sent him to follow the students. At first, he suspected that the man wanted to make sure that the two didn't break out into a fight. The man had plenty of faith in Draco, but if a duel broke out between him and Granger, he would have an even competition.
"Well, this is excellent news indeed," Albus murmured more or less to the air. He took his wand and set it to his white temple. Pulling away, the wand held what appeared to be a fine silver hair. He dropped it into his pensieve with a flourish.
"Sir, if I may ask, why is that good news?"
"Yes, Severus, you may most definitely ask," the elder man said with a happy smile, "A prophecy was told concerning our two pupils. They with Mr. Potter will vanquish the Dark Lord, in the end. And from what you have told me, it seems it has began."
"So it will end?" the Potion's Master asked with an odd surge of hope touching his dark eyes. He fingered unconsciously at his left forearm.
"Truthfully, Severus, I don't know. As you have seen, all prophecies that are told aren't completed. All prophecies don't come true, and some aren't ever close to their marks. So you see, Severus, not all things can be foretold." The Headmaster looked at him sympathetically for a moment. His light blue eyes sparkled with a different light, behind his moon-shaped rimmed glasses.
Snape looked down at his feet, worrying the carpet with his icy gaze. He had never really enjoyed the man's full knowledge on every emotion he tried so hard to hide. The man had a definite knack for it. Seeing his right hand firmly clamped over his left forearm, he hastily dropped his arms to his side.
"But, Severus, you do know that there is still the unwitting chance that young Master Malfoy will follow his father, though unwillingly." He watched the small glimmer of hope disappear once more into the Potions Master's obsidian eyes. His emotions became hidden and controlled once more. "Right now, all lies in the heart of Hermione Granger."
October swept down on Hogwarts quickly. The view of the mountains and forest had turned to autumn's display of yellows, reds, and oranges. The students casual clothing steadily grew warmer, because of the ominous approaching chill of winter.
Draco and Hermione were sitting in their common room discussing plans for the upcoming Halloween ball. 'Couch claims' had finally been dropped, so now the two shared the couch comfortably. Draco lay sprawled out with his head on the armrest, while Hermione sat at his feet curled in her usual position.
The relationship that had started in September managed to last into early October unscathed. As far as they knew, no one knew of the bond between them. In between classes they remained, seemingly cold and distant. But while in the commons or in a class where they felt unwatched, the two would talk about their lives and days with warmth.
"Oh, so you want it to be a competition, do you?" she said with a large smile, "Alright, then. It'll have to be a costume ball then. Costumes will be judged by the professors." She scribbled down her notes in her neat and loopy scrawl.
Draco smirked inwardly at the girl's enthusiasm towards organizing something. He knew by now that if she said it, it would be done. "Okay," was his only laid back reply.
"Oh! And we'll have to arrange a day in Hogsmeade to shop for costumes; as well," she started eagerly jotting down more notes.
"Okay, you can take it up with Dumbledore."
She looked up at him with an exasperated smile. "Do you ever do anything?"
"No, Hermione. You don't let anyone get a word in edgewise, when it comes to planning something," he said from his headrest.
"Sorry…" Hermione muttered with a small pout.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. It just gives me plenty of time to think of how Potter and Weasley stand you," he replied, poking her bottom lip in with his index finger. He laughed at her look of sudden indignation, as he settled back against his armrest.
"Nothing would have ever been planned if it wasn't for me! The lack of ingenuity between the two has never ceased to amaze me. Without me, the two wouldn't last a second in their reckless lives," she rebuked, red faced.
"Aw…I should have swept you away before they did. Then, I wouldn't have to put up with The-Boy-Who-Should-Have-Died and his trusty sidekick, the Red-Headed-Blunder."
Hermione's color drained from her face, making her look like a well-bleached sheet. Her eyelids narrowed, hiding the usually bright amber orbs, now they danced with an untamed flame. 'Are they all so immature as to not realize that unity is what this school needs most now? Stupid boys!' her soul screamed, but that annoying little voice had to have its say-so, "Why do you let him get to you so easily? It's just the normal words that get crossed between the three.' Why did she let him get to her? She had never really thought about it herself.
Draco was watching her closely. A small wave of apprehension rolled over him, as the girls face changed. But the explosion he expected never came. The flames flickered out in her eyes as if doused, now they looked like the stone they mocked in color. She sat at his feet stiff as a board. Her eyes that held no emotion were staring off into the lapping flames of the fireplace. Her brow was creased in thought, but she never showed a glimpse of any emotion.
"Hermione?" he questioned carefully, but was quickly interrupted.
"Do you really hate them that much?" she asked in a whisper, still not looking at him but the merrily cackling fire. She didn't want him to see the disappointment in her eyes, when he gave the answer she already knew he would give.
"Well, Mione," Draco began thoughtfully, he noted the smile crossing her face from the name, "I do believe the feeling is mutual." His silver eyes watched for her to let anything slip so he could read how she felt. But her passive face, remained just that.
The truth in his statement stung her, but the strong Gryffindor stubbornness wouldn't back down and let her show it. "Why?" She looked at him patiently, their eyes locked; both struggled to find any piece of emotion in the other's eyes.
"Like I told you before, at first it was…uh…beaten' into me, but as years went by it turned to genuine dislike. Father started filling me full of that rubbish at an early age."
"Why haven't you ever went against his word, or at least until now?" she dug purely out of curiosity.
Draco's face went grim; his eyes screwed shut trying to turn away the flood of memories flashing through his mind. "I learned the hard way."
Hermione sensed his uneasiness and moved to sit beside him on the floor. Compassion flowed freely behind amber. She reached out a small hand to squeeze his in reassurance. But the touch only lasted what felt like a second, before she felt the sensation of being sucked into a pit. Her feet left the floor as she was pulled farther from reality. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut feeling nausea washing over her.
Hermione landed hard on a stone floor. She opened her eyes slowly, she found herself in a very unfamiliar room. Rising up off the floor, she realized she was in someone's study. Two large windows looked out on a beautiful view of a white peaked mountain, and in front of it was a large, clear blue lake that reflected the peaks perfectly. This definitely wasn't Hogwarts.
'Where am I?' she thought, suddenly she was very aware that she wasn't in the safety of the castle anymore. The realization of her being sent to an unfamiliar location with no idea how to get back hit her like a sudden blow to the stomach. Panic was trying to override her common sense, but she fought hard to think clearly.
She looked around at her surroundings looking for some clue to where she was. Shelves lined the walls, full of books that made Hermione yearn to read them all. But on a closer inspection, she found that all were written on the Dark Arts.
Horror seized her body, with an urgency she turned to find an escape route. Anything would be better than being in this evil house. The sight behind her, though, twisted her queasy stomach in knots.
Lucius Malfoy was sat like an arrogant aristocrat, behind a large desk covered with scattered parchment envelopes. An expensive phoenix feather quill danced in his hand as he wrote. Ink the color of blood flowed in neat rhythmic sweeps.
Every ounce of Gryffindor courage was herded back into her core. Caution followed her every step towards the well-known Deatheater's desk. Stopping in front of the man who would kill her in a mere heartbeat, she asked braver than she felt, "Why am I here?"
Lucius made no reply; he sat there as if he hadn't heard a thing. The quill in his hand continued its graceful dance across the parchment.
Anger surged through Hermione so fast she could feel the heat in her face. He was treating her like a stupid creature you could ignore! The question burst forth again, but in a scream of pure, nerve rattling anger.
The man didn't even flinch. His hand still wrote in its ceaseless scrawl.
Hermione then did something no Malfoy could ignore. Her hand drew back to slap the pale man's egotistical jaw, rage blinded all rational thought. But just as her hand should have made contact with the pale skin, it just passed right through it. Hermione's eyes went wide in surprise. What was going on?
Lucius finished his writing and enclosed the piece of parchment in an envelope. He stamped the green Malfoy crest in the center, sealing it tight. For a spell was placed on all letters stamped with the crest; no one else could open it, but the owner. He turned to and stepped out from his desk. He was a head taller than Hermione; his eyes were a cold blue. Walking around the desk he headed straight towards the door Hermione blocked, she didn't have time to move before he walked through her. A chill ran up her spine because of the ghostly feeling.
Hermione stood there only blinking and breathing. She couldn't be dead…
But then the incredibly sickening whirling sensation came again. She was dropped unceremoniously on the landing of a flight of stairs. This time she landed on her feet. It wasn't long before she realized that she was supposed to be following the foul man that had just started up another flight of stairs.
Following hastily, Hermione took in the Malfoy Manor. One word could describe it all at once: elegant. Dark hardwood floors and deep green walls could take her heart easily. Every chandelier or candle picked up another interesting artifact. Paintings lined a wall in the hallway they had just started down. Most appeared to be of the Malfoy family; it was so ironic that such evil people could be so stunningly beautiful or strikingly dashing.
Master Malfoy stopped in front of a dark wooden door. Sparkling silver 'd' was embedded in its surface. Knocking once, he entered without waiting for a reply.
Still on his heels, Hermione gazed around the new room in astonishment. It too was in the dark green. Well-designed furniture was scattered throughout the small room. A large four-poster bed set across from the wavering flames in a fireplace. What caught her attention though was what was in front of it.
A small boy lay across a large fur rug in front of the fireplace. His small hands propped open a large book that looked far too advanced for his age. The firelight caught in his silvery hair. It draped across his ears and fell across his forehead as he read.
"Get up, boy!" spat Lucius. The boy's form jumped along with Hermione's; she had forgotten he was there. "It's time for a new lesson."
"Yes, Father," the young boy said, not looking the man in the eye. He stood stiff as a statue in front of the vile man.
"What is a mudblood, boy?"
"I do not know, sir," came an innocent reply.
"You don't know," Lucius stated almost dangerously, "They are the filthiest beings in the wizarding world! Dirty witches or wizards from disgusting muggle families! You are to never, ever socialize civilly with those trash. Do you understand me, boy?"
"But why, Father," he asked in a small voice. His curiosity would cause him a dear lesson.
"Because I said, you fool!" his father screamed in his face. Lucius pulled his wand from an inner pocket and pointed it at the boy. Hermione watched the scene with pure horror. "I believe it is time for you to learn another valuable lesson. Your mother, the pathetic woman, can't protect you forever! It's time you learned that you are to never disobey me!" he said in a cold, uncaring voice, "Crucio!"
The boy stood there in stunned silence, then he was engulfed by the terrible yellow curse. He screamed as the pain tore through every nerve of his small body. Tears spilled down his pale cheeks.
Hermione's face burned with hatred aimed at the man who could torture his own son this way. Tears started to fall from her own eyes, as the boy convulsed with the cruel pain.
The boy fell to his knees; legs were no longer able to support his small mass. Only then did he look his father in the face. Hermione saw his eyes swimming with pain and fear. Draco's eyes…Hermione's breath hitched in her lungs. Silver depths of pure mystery were then only full of innocence.
Lucius removed the curse with a flick he had done so many times before on others. "Don't ever question me. Do you understand?"
Draco kneeled on the floor, his body moving with his every labored gasp for air. He was unable to answer.
"I said, do you understand me." Lucius hissed smacking the boy hard across his tearstained face. Draco's head turned with the force of the blow.
"Yes, sir," the young Draco croaked, trying to struggle to his feet.
"Good." Lucius turned and walked to the door. Before exiting, he turned to the boy once more, "I advise you not to scream next time, Draco. You will learn the hard way not to show emotions. Scream again the longer the pain will be."
"Yes, sir."
Hermione cried tears of pure hatred and pity. She wanted to comfort the small boy, wrap him up and hide him from the evil man he called Father. She stood watching as Draco forced his weak legs to hold him. Then all went black…
Draco was surprised when Hermione touched his hand. He felt secure, but that feeling soon changed to concern when he opened his eyes.
Hermione was sitting beside him looking at nothing. Her eyes held on odd glazed, far off look.
'Oh, shit!'
"Hermione! Are you okay?" he asked panic stricken. Draco waved a hand vigorously in front of her face, getting no response. She still stared glassily ahead, not blinking. He scooped her petite body in his arms and rocked back and forth trying to think.
'Pomfrey! Go to the Hospital Wing!' his conscience screamed the first useful thing at him in ages.
Draco jumped from the couch and ran frantically to the portrait hole. The halls were empty in the middle of the night. As he ran, he began to feel a wet spot on his shirtfront. Glancing down he realized it came from Hermione's glassy amber eyes. Clutching her closer to his body he dash on. He could feel the small trickle become a flood on his skin. Her tears drenched his shirt.
'Oh, Hermione, please be alright!'
Leaping up a flight of stairs, he was thankful they didn't decide to change on him. The Hospital Wing doors loomed in front of him closer. He broke into a dead sprint as her small body shook.
"What on earth is going on?" asked Madame Pomfrey as she bustled into the main room at the commotion. She was pulling a robe over her speckled nightdress. She was met with the most surprising picture Hogwarts could paint. Could you believe it? Draco Malfoy carrying none other than Hermione Granger in his arms.
"I don't know! One minute she was fine, then the next her eyes were glazed over and she started to cry!"
"Oh, dear. Here eat this, boy." She handed him a large chunk of chocolate to mend his frazzled nerves.
Draco swallowed it, ignoring the dryness of his throat.
"Go get Dumbledore, dearie."
With that, he was off like a rocket again. He raced to the Headmaster's office at a dead run. Encountering the gargoyle, he shouted the password, "Chocolate Frogs," and dashed up the spiraling stairs. He wracked the door once, but in his haste didn't wait for an answer.
"What seems to be the trouble, Mr. Malfoy?" the man asked noting his pale and streaked face.
"Something's wrong with Hermione!" Draco blurted out upset.
"Oh, cockroaches! That is indeed serious," the Headmaster said hurrying around his desk. His blue eyes held a small sparkly of amusement. Not many people were blessed with the sight of Draco Malfoy showing emotion so freely.
They both half ran to the Hospital Wing, Draco was tiring and Dumbledore aging.
Both burst through the doors at once. "Where is she, Poppy?"
"Over there, sir," the nurse said nodding in the beds direction from her cabinet, "She fell unconscious a moment ago."
Dumbledore leaned over her small frame intently. Draco stood on the other side; a knot twisted uncomfortably in his stomach at her pale skin and closed lids.
The older man placed his wand to Hermione's temple, "Enervate," he said quietly.
Hermione's amber eyes shot open in shock. They focused hazily on the concerned faces above her. "What happened?"
"We don't know until you tell us, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said softly.
She covered what she had seen with a vivid memory. Draco listened to her account in awe. She had seen one of his memories.
Dumbledore sat in contemplative silence. He listened to her story with great interest. "Well, Miss Granger, I believe you have some Seer's blood in you," he said with a warm smile, "Your mother could do that too, Hermione. She could see someone's memories, when she touched them with emotion. She could also see the future to a degree. May I ask if you have had any odd dreams lately?"
"Yes, sir. I have," she answered remembering her nightly flight through the forest, "I dream that I am running through a forest at night. I'm not alone, but I don't know who is with me. Curses are being shot at us, and my companion falls. He had broken his leg, but wouldn't let me stay. Feeling at a loss, I continue running until I collide with a hooded Lucius Malfoy."
Draco's eyebrows rose at her dream, especially when his father was mentioned. 'So that was what she dreamed about.' He looked at her in surprise.
"This troubles me deeply, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said looking into her eyes, " I believe your safety may be at risk at some time or another this year."
Dumbledore left and Madame Pomfrey left the two students to themselves for the rest of the night. Only after she couldn't see the old woman, did she look at Draco's face. His silver eyes looked tired and haunted.
"Draco, will you stay with me tonight?" she asked softly. Hermione didn't want any nightmares on this night.
"Yeah, sure, bookworm," he said smiling, "Just let me find a place to sleep first, okay?"
"You can stay here," Hermione stated clearly indicating the space beside her.
"That might not be the best idea." He raised an eyebrow at her quizzically.
"I don't care, it's just for tonight," she said patting the empty spot.
Draco sighed inwardly, 'This will be a long night.'
He climbed into the bed beside her and covered them both up. "Goodnight, Mione," he yawned out rolling to his side.
"Mmm," Hermione sighed, already drifting off into sleep. She felt safe and warm with Draco pressed gently to her.
Hermione didn't run through the forest that night.