Remembering
I woke in the darkness of the front room of 12 Grimmauld Place, slightly disoriented and wondering how I'd gotten on the couch. Then the memories of the night before came flooding back, and I turned my head slightly, expecting to feel the resistance of Malfoy's chest there to stop me, but it wasn't there.
I sat up immediately, my heart pounding as I realized that I didn't feel another heart beating against my own. Shakily, I lay back down. He was gone. Of course he was gone. How could I have expected otherwise? Tears were welling in my eyes for some reason – from anger at myself for caring, from anger at him for making me this vulnerable, from fear of knowing what I'd done, the position I'd put myself in…
I pulled a pillow toward me; it was then that I noticed that my cloak was draped over me, keeping me warm in place of the warmth of a living body. It was then that the tears overwhelmed me, and I buried my face in the pillow, crying softly until I suddenly heard a low, strained voice saying, "'Mione, it's alright, you're safe…"
I knew that it wasn't Malfoy, knew that it was Ron instead, my best friend, trying to comfort me in what I was convinced was the darkest time I had ever known; I didn't know why I cared so much. He was pulling me into his arms, and I sobbed into his chest, unable to think, unable to feel anything but the most excruciating pain, and he was saying softly, "Hermione, it's alright…it's going to be okay…"
I cried myself out in his arms, glad that, at least, my best friend would always be here; my best friend would never leave me.
I tried calming him, to no avail; he was shaking so hard, whimpering almost, more vulnerable than I would have ever, in my wildest dreams, imagined him being. "You don't know what it's like," he said weakly, "to remember the father that beat you, and is now dead, the mother who loved you but couldn't protect you, who was killed because of you…"
"I know what it's like to feel pain," I muttered, staring over his head. "Do you know how many times I've relived that nightmare of a night, knowing that I'd never wake up in time to save him?" I nearly felt myself choke at the thought of Harry. "Everyone feels pain, Malfoy."
"Pain?" he croaked. "I thought this was Hell."
When we were pulled by some invisible force into a trembling embrace, we didn't fight it; I fell asleep in his arms once his breathing had calmed and I knew that he, too, was asleep.
Draco Malfoy woke up with a start when he felt something shift against him. Immediately the memories of a couple of hours before came flooding back, followed, not far behind, by the sensations he felt now; Hermione Granger's body nestled against him, her small form crumpled with exhaustion and deep in sleep, her hands and his intertwined, his face against her shoulder blade, her hair against his cheek. He moved easily away, not disturbing her, to get out of this mess they'd both suddenly created; he wanted to laugh and rage at himself for letting it happen. The Lion and the Snake, not enemies? he scoffed to himself. That will happen, sure, when there are no wars left to fight, when the world comes to an end. He hesitated, though, when he looked at her frail form, slumping now with her back against the couch cushions, her feet stretched out toward the end but not quite reaching the opposite arm. She looked cold. He hesitated a moment longer, and then took her cloak from the armchair she'd flung it on and draped it over her. She didn't wake, shifting only slightly when his hands brushed her skin. He stood there a moment, and then, not knowing why he said it, he whispered aloud, "I'm sorry," and then left the room, already determined to forget everything about the night.
When I got my crying under control, I looked up at Ron, wiping the tears from my face. "Did Malfoy make it home?" I asked him, my voice hollow.
He nodded uncertainly. "Snape gave him the potion, he took it, and he left. Didn't say a word the whole time." He looked closely at me. "What happened? Is this because of what happened with Lord Verloren last night?"
"Oh, Ron," I said weakly. "I can't even explain right now, I don't know how."
His expression was faintly bemused. "If you say so, Hermione. You'd better get home and get some real sleep; it's almost six in the morning."
"Right," I said distantly, standing up and pulling my cloak around me; I tried to ignore the scent that was still on it, the smell that I now associated with Malfoy, like mint and chocolate mixed together, such a pleasant smell for such a snake. I turned on my heel and Disapparated with a loud crack, appearing back inside my small flat.
This wasn't home anymore, I realized suddenly. The problem was that I didn't know where home was. I fell into bed with my cloak still on and cried myself to sleep, unsure why, or for whom, I was crying; but just as my mind touched on dreamland, Draco Malfoy's vulnerable face appeared in my mind when that smell filled my nose again, and I found myself thinking again of how it wasn't a smell I'd have ever associated with him…but then again, last night he hadn't been such a snake…last night he'd been a vulnerable wreck of a man, and very human…
I slipped into dreams where he was always in the shadows, and somehow, no matter how hard I tried to reach him, I could never quite touch him.
"Draco," I heard myself murmur, and then I was gone.
Someone was banging on my door. I moaned slightly and rolled over, immediately blinded by the sunlight coming through the window. "Granger!" I heard a voice yelling.
"Just a minute," I mumbled, swinging my legs out of bed. I felt terrible. This must be what a hangover feels like, I thought blindly as I groped for a fresh change of clothes, yanking them on and straightening them only slightly. Hurriedly I ran a brush through my hair, imagining Malfoy standing out there, fuming as he waited on me. He'd be in a foul mood this morning. I knew that for certain.
When I finally opened the door, he was, sure enough, glaring; I immediately avoided his eyes. "Let's go," he said shortly; we both turned on our heels and Disapparated, back to 12 Grimmauld Place.
Mrs. Weasley greeted us when we walked in the door. She looked at me and then turned to Lupin, standing just behind her with Tonks. "Remus, she can't go back there today," she said quietly. "She's exhausted."
"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really," I said, putting on a brave face. "I have to go, anyway. I'm being called." I held out my right palm for all of them to see. Tonks's eyes met mine and I saw the horrified look in them, and the sympathy. The symbol was glowing there, stronger than ever, and I felt it by the slight warmth in my palm.
Mrs. Weasley, too, looked absolutely horrified. "This is too much," she said softly.
"I'll be fine, but I'd better go before I strain his mercy," I said in as strong a voice as I could muster. "I'll be back here soon, hopefully with a report." With that I turned on my heel and walked out the door, and Disapparated, appearing outside the building I'd been taken to the other day. Blacnell was waiting there. He grunted and jerked his head toward the door; I followed him inside, to a different room than I'd been in before, a kind of study that glowed with polished wood and graceful books peering down from their shelves. Blacnell left me there.
A few minutes later, just as I was examining the bookshelves, Lord Verloren glided easefully into the study through a different door. He glanced at me and smiled warmly. "Lily. I see you've already gotten used to our system of summoning."
I felt braver than I had yesterday and replied, "Yes, my Lord, I think it's rather convenient."
"It's a complicated charm, but it does serve its function," he said thoughtfully. "It's better than the Mark that Lord Voldemort left on his followers…I hear that the Mark is a bloody mess to have right now…"
"It is, my Lord. A close friend of mine has the Mark, and it bleeds constantly." What a lie. Close friend, indeed.
"Just like Voldemort, to take down his followers when he fell. You need fear nothing of the sort from me. It's inconvenient to waste so much power on such a small detail like that."
I nodded in agreement.
"Now, then, Lily," he said, sitting down behind his desk. "Come and talk with me, and I shall show you my grand plan and your place in it…"