Recap:

He knew now that their coming together in the first place had been nothing more than carnal need. She sought comfort, he sought release. And the consequences were now full on top of them. But then they'd actually been together, as lovers. They'd loved each other and some cruel twist of fate had separated.

With an angry grunt, he climbed to his feet, affixed his cloak, then continued on the path he'd chosen, vowing once and for all to get her out of his head.

Chapter 20: I Remember You

Hermione collapsed on her bed, her heart heavy and her eyes swollen. She was full to the point of being sick, having endured a horrible dinner at which Harry, Ron, and Ginny all forced her to eat. Because, for the past week, she hadn't eaten a thing and only slept when her body forced her to. She awoke at strange hours and had gruesome nightmares; she would then proceed to wander around the common room, sometimes finding her way out into the corridors.

The entire school was in an uproar about the disappearance of Draco Malfoy. Even the Slytherins who had turned on him were on edge. They didn't know what his being gone meant and were terrified at the thought of being blamed.

Hermione's friends did all that they could to calm her. And Melantha, trusting motherly Melantha, was now staying at the castle. That is, when she wasn't out looking for her son. But there was no sign of Draco anywhere and even she was beginning to lose hope. Dumbledore, however, was as optimistic as ever that Draco would turn up and be perfectly fine. He was so confident that he promised Hermione that he would return.

"How can you promise me such a thing!" she'd shouted, turning over the chair she had been sitting in. Never could she remember being so angry, and at a teacher no less. Her situation had certainly put a new spin on her life. "How can you let me get my hopes up when you know what Voldemort does to those who betray him! How…" But the words had flittered off at that point and she'd buckled in a heap of tears and sobs on his office floor. Moments later Harry arrived and carried her back to the dormitory.

"Ron! Leave me alone!" Hermione screamed, batting her fists at him. Her wand was stuffed uselessly in her pocket, unable to be reached in the position he had her in. His strong hands pinned her to the wall, her blue eyes fierce with need. She had never known Ron to act this way and was more terrified than she would let on.

"You have to listen to me first," Ron said, his voice low and calm, though with a hint of irritation. "I love you, not Lavender."

"Then snogging with her behind my back was your way of showing it?" she sneered. What a horrible sight she had walked in on after being in the library the week before.

"She would never give me the time of day before," he reasoned, or so he thought he was.

"That doesn't mean you should go after her when she does! You were with me, Ron!"

"I know, but—"

"No, I don't care what your reason was! You betrayed me and that's all that there is to it! I can't hear another word or I'd be betraying myself!"

She managed to snake her arm free, only to find herself prostrated on the floor, Ron's rock hard body on top of her, struggling to grab at her wrists again.

"Hermione, please! Just let me talk!"

"NO!"

"Hermione!"

"Get off of her," came a gruff voice from the shadows. Ron immediately froze, unable to follow the harsh command. Within seconds, however, he found himself flown against the very same wall he'd shoved Hermione against. He drew his wand, ready to fight whoever was there, only to stop short when he found the most unlikely person standing before him, brandishing his wand.

"Malfoy!" he gasped, then rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing right.

Hermione climbed to her feet, ignoring Draco's presence completely. Her wand was in her hand and she was more than ready to use it.

"How dare you do that to me!" she hissed, jabbing her wand into his chest. "You say you love me and then you do this! On top of everything else! I thought you were a good person, Ron…I've never been so disappointed…"

"Hermione, please—" But the second he took a step forward, Draco was there, his wand now stuck in Ron's chest as well.

"Make one more move and I'll hex you, you dirty weasel."

And to Ron's complete horror Hermione laughed and gave a stiff nod. Without another word he bowed his head in submission and walked away. Hermione distinctly heard two sets of footsteps after a moment, but forgot about them when she remembered who was standing with her in the dark corridor.

"Why did you—"

"If it was between a mudblood like you and that blood traitor, then you should win. At least with you you didn't have a choice to be born what you are."

His assessment of the situation would have made her punch him any other time, but tonight, after being saved by Draco Malfoy, she really didn't know how to react, other than with gratitude.

"I should thank you then," she said after a long moment. "I couldn't reach my wand and I didn't know what he would do in his state."

"He's a moron," he said without aid, without emotion. He turned to walk away, and she didn't try to stop him. She stood there, staring after him, her mind racing. When he stopped short of turning the corner she was very confused. "What are you still standing around for?"

"I can't go back to the common room," she said matter-of-factly, pulling up her old confidence when dealing with any Slytherin, and especially him.

To her complete surprise he walked back over to her and took her arm.

"What—"

"You're coming with me. We still have to discuss your method of repayment for my help back there."

An hour later, after Draco had successfully snuck her into Slytherin House, he and Hermione were roaring with laughter, their stomachs heavy with Firewhiskey: Hermione's payment to Draco. He had sealed off the green velvet curtains around his bed and put a Silencing Charm on them.

"Stop! Stop!" Hermione cried, holding the stitch in her ribs. "I can't laugh anymore!"

Draco sighed and took another sip of his drink. It no longer singed his throat, but gave him an over all warm feeling. Though, now that the liquor was starting to affect his brain, he wasn't entirely sure the warmth could be attributed to the whiskey.

"I never thought I'd be drunk on Draco Malfoy's bed," she said after a moment, laying back, her head propped up with her arms.

"I never thought I'd offer a mudblood such a treat either."

"You know," she said, turning on her side to face him, "I really hate when you say that." The look in her eyes and the slight slur of her words told his drunken self that under normal circumstances these words would never be spoken, let alone thought. "I mean, I stand up straight and take it, but at night, sometimes, I cry because I don't understand how someone can hate me so much for something I can't help."

"Well, if you're going to tell secrets," he said, moving a little closer to her. In the far reaches of his mind he knew he'd hate himself for this in the morning. But, right now, so close to such a beautiful girl, and his body full of toxins, he didn't care what he said. "I have a rather weighty confession."

Hermione's ears perked and she too moved closer. Their knees touched, but neither moved to correct this.

"I never hated you, or any mudblood for that matter." He paused to gauge her reaction. Respectfully, she remained calm and collected, her mind beginning to sober up at his words. "I was raised a certain way and I did as my father told me, as Voldemort told him…But, a few nights ago, I was taken to the Dark Lord on his orders, on my father's request…" His voice trailed off. He didn't know it would be this hard to recap the memory. How was he so alone in a world with so many people? So unloved? So used?

Hermione moved herself so close to him that their foreheads touched, and draped her arm over his waist.

"My father's faults have angered Voldemort, and he tried to right them by offering me to him." His voice was now shaky and almost hoarse. "My mother begged and cried for my life…In the end Voldemort finally agreed to let me live, but at a price."

Hermione let out a little noise, showing her concern. She had always thought there was more to Draco than she could see at the surface.

"I had to become a Death Eater and serve him forever. I have to kill mudbloods and blood traitors, everyone who stood in the way…"

"And are you…are you—"

Draco solemnly lifted his robe sleeve to reveal nothing but a very toned arm.

"You and Weasley were supposed to be my first assignment, because you're so close to Potter…That's why I saved you tonight…I'm on your side now."

"And your mother?" It was all she could think to say. The story of her arrest was fresh in the papers that morning. "How did she end up in Azkaban with your father?"

"She went mad after I refused him…She cried and cursed and said I was betraying her after all she'd done to protect me…I turned her in to the Ministry the next day."

"You're in danger then." And, startling her, she felt a pang of concern in her gut.

"Every minute," he sighed, seemingly unaffected by this fact. "But, then again, I always have been. It sort of comes with having Death Eater parents."

"You're drunk," she said. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I may be drunk, but I know perfectly well what I'm saying. I could die any day and there is only one thing I want to do before I'm gone."

Hermione's breath quickened as his face moved towards hers.

"Draco," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Don't do this."

"Why?"

"Because you'll make me regret it in the morning."

"What do you mean by that?" he laughed softly, brushing his lips against hers. He didn't think anyone could be as beautiful as she was. "That I'll snub you and treat you like I've always treated you?"

She nodded, biting her lip so he couldn't get passed them.

"Well of course I will." And there was a definitely seriousness to his tone. "Do you have any idea how much danger you'd be in if Voldemort found out about this? You wouldn't be just some offhanded assignment for a rookie Death Eater. You would be the assignment. And I won't let him have you."

"But you hate me," she protested. "We hate each other."

"I don't hate you," he purred, pressing his lips to hers. "And I've been to bed with my fair share of girls who hated me."

"I don't hate you either," she said defensively.

"Then kiss me," he urged, pulling her as close as she possibly could be.

"Malfoy," she stressed, pushing him back. "We're both drunk. This is a mistake, this whole thing." She sat up, only to be pulled back down and under his massively muscular frame. "Don't make me hate myself. Please…"

But then his lips came crashing down on hers, and he didn't care that she struggled at first, that she whimpered in protest. Because he wanted her and nothing would stop him from having her. It was the ultimate slap in the face for his parents that he would shack up with a mudblood. They would pay dearly for treating him the way they had.

"Let me have you now and I will leave you alone forever," he whispered huskily into her ear as his fingers worked the buttons of her shirt.

"But—"

"How would Weasley feel if he knew where you were right now?"

And from that point on she had no trouble whatsoever bending to Draco's will. Not until morning, that is.

Hermione bolted upright, clutched the front of her robes as if she could stop her rapidly beating heart. That dream, it had been so real, so personal. It must have been a memory! Like the dreams Draco had been having. Which meant she was regaining her memory.

She knew now what she must do, and no one could stand in her way. For a full week she had listened to others, obeyed their commands to stay on the grounds and leave the search and rescue up to the adults. Well, she thought angrily, they aren't any closer to finding him and it's been a whole week. She couldn't stand waiting anymore and wondering where he could be, let alone the condition and mind set he was in. And, most horribly, it was her fault that he'd fled and was heading for Voldemort, because there was no doubt in her mind that that's where he had gone. With nothing left to lose—or so he thought—going to Voldemort seemed to be his only option. He would become the Death Eater he was supposed to become and then, with luck, he would forget about his crusade against Melantha and Dante.

"But he won't forget," she whispered, sitting up so suddenly that her head spun. She and Melantha and the baby were still in danger. Draco was walking head on into certain death for no reason at all!

With hardly a thought other than Draco and their son in mind, Hermione snatched up her cloak and wand and slipped from the room. Ron and Harry were in a deep conversation by the far window, and Ginny was nowhere in sight. She wondered for a moment how she was getting out of the common room so easily with them right there. She found out, not a moment later, when the portrait door closed and she was face to face with Ginny, her wand pointing at her chest.

"Ginny," Hermione gasped, clutching the front of her cloak. But she was not at all surprised. She needed a moment to collect her bearings and make a decision. "What are you—"

"We've been taking turns every night guarding the door, Hermione," Ginny said, her voice very much sympathetic. "We knew you would try to sneak out to find him, but you can't. You're putting both yourself and your son in danger and we can't let you do it."

"And what about Draco?" Hermione was becoming increasingly angry.

"Melantha is—"

"Melantha won't find him and Dumbledore is so damn—"

"Hermione! Listen to yourself!"

"No, Ginny. You listen to me. I love Draco and nothing in this world will keep me from him. I can't let him die without knowing how I feel. I can't let him walk towards his death thinking that I don't love him, and knowing that it's my fault that he's there. Voldemort won't just accept him as a Death Eater and forget about being snubbed. He'll kill Draco and then he'll come after me and Melantha. If it were Harry, would you let me or the others stand in your way?"

There was a long silence. Hermione prayed that her words made an impact.

"But your baby," Ginny said, struggling with the words. She knew Hermione was right, but she just couldn't abandon her post and allow her best friend to go without protection. It was suicide!

"If you don't let me go I'll curse you," Hermione said with conviction. "I'm sorry, Gin, but you know I can't not go. I can't let him die."

"Then let me go with you," she finally caved, glancing at the slumbering portrait of the Fat Lady. "I can help you. I've fought the Death Eaters just like you and the boys."

Hermione was about to say no when she realized that if Ginny was willing to give up her post then Hermione should be too, for the sake of friendship. She nodded and offered Ginny her arm, her eyes beginning to mist again. Never in her life did she think she'd have so many people around her that loved her and that she could love back so completely.

"What about Harry and Ron?"

Hermione bit her lip, knowing that the boys would massacre them when they found out.

"I don't want them to come," Ginny said, answering her own question. "But—"

"But when they see we're gone they'll come after us," Hermione sighed. "And risk even more."

So, reluctantly, the two girls climbed back into the Gryffindor common room.

Within seconds most of the house was up as well.

Well, that's all for now. I have been rather busy with work and a wedding and such, so I haven't really had time to type. But now you have another chapter, and I think it's safe to assume that I've changed my mind and am going to use flashbacks instead of a prequel, and the only reason is because of the sixth book. I thought I would have enough time to finish this fic and start the prequel before it came out but, sadly, I did not. And with the shattering events that happened, I find that I can't bring myself to write another fic that ignores the points of their sixth year. Any other fics that I write with be from seventh year and on.

With that said, I hope everyone enjoyed this little glimpse into the past. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up very soon. Oh, and by the way, this fic is nearly it's end. Two or three more chapters and then I will sadly have to put it to rest. -Sigh-

REVIEW!

P.S. How do you like how I handled Draco and Hermione coming together for the first time? Draco seemingly all sensitive, but with his ulterior motives. And the drunkenness. Heeheehee!