Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything from the Harry Potter world. All credit to that goes to J. K. Rowling

Through Her Eyes

by firewithin

Draco Malfoy paused, deep in thought, in front of the stone gargoyle that stood sentinel before the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office. 'Why has the Headmaster asked me to come here?' he wondered. He certainly couldn't think of anything he had done to warrant a call to see the old man. At most he would have expected a detention or two from Professor Snape, though the former Potions Master would more than likely only have given his favorite student a halfhearted scolding.

"Fizzing Whizbees," the platinum haired teen declared to the gargoyle. It promptly leapt aside to permit his entrance. He stood on the bottom step of the spiral staircase as it began to move up, bringing him to a halt in front of the large, burnished wooden door of Dumbledore's office. He raised a pale hand to grasp the brass knocker and, after a moment's hesitation, knocked loudly. Once he had heard the Headmaster bid him to enter, Malfoy pulled the cumbersome door ajar and stepped into the circular room, his ears immediately filled with the gentle hum from a myriad of complex-looking silver instruments that occupied the room.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," the bespectacled old wizard seated behind a large desk greeted him. He gestured for the student to take the empty chair before him. "Right on time. You are, no doubt, wondering why it is that I have asked you to my office." It was a statement rather than a question. Draco gave a hesitant nod. "During your six years here at Hogwarts I have been keeping a close eye on your treatment of your fellow students. I had rather hoped that you would outgrow your childhood prejudices and learn to form opinions of individuals based on their own merits and faults as opposed to their pedigree. Sadly, however, I realize that that has not been the case." Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked over to a cabinet by the door that Malfoy had passed through only moments ago. When he returned to his desk he set a shallow stone basin on its surface. "Do you know what this is, Mr. Malfoy?"

The young man stood and peered at the basin and its etched runes with narrowed eyes. "It's a Pensieve," he stated matter-of-factly.

The Headmaster nodded. "Quite right. I am to assume, then, that you know its purpose?"

"Yeah. The Pensieve allows you to view people's memories. But I don't understand what this has to do with me, Sir."

The Headmaster withdrew a small vial from his robes and held it in his blackened right hand. "Tonight we shall be witnessing the memories of a student you have harassed quite often throughout your time at this school," he explained as he used his wand to uncork the container and draw out the thick, silvery strand of memory. He brought it to the Pensieve and let the diaphanous substance swirl and expand within the confines of basin. "Perhaps it will aid you in putting everything into perspective." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as if he was amused by something only he understood. He gestured toward the Pensieve's ethereal surface. "After you."

Draco let his face sink into the silvery-white surface of the memory and soon felt himself being pulled away from Dumbledore's office. When his feet felt solid ground again, he and the Headmaster were in a very cramped old shack. Sitting around a very weatherworn table were Hagrid and a much younger looking Harry, Hermione, and Ron (who was a putrid shade of green as he spewed slugs into a bucket in his lap). Ron's predicament made the blonde observer realize that they were watching a scene from his second year at Hogwarts. Malfoy gave his guide an inquisitive look but the silver-haired man indicated that they should just be silent and watch the event before them.

The children were explaining to the Keeper of the Keys just how Ron had come to be in this condition. They explained the confrontation between the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams and how Malfoy had called Hermione a Mudblood. At that time the frizzy-haired brunette had been unfamiliar with the term, though she understood that it was clearly meant as an insult toward her. Between fits of coughing, Ron informed her of the word's connotation. Malfoy was implying that her blood was dirty; tainted because she came from a Muggle family.

A short while later, Malfoy and Dumbledore followed the children back to the castle where Hermione and the two boys went their separate ways. The Professor continued to follow Hermione and so Draco did likewise. When the girl came upon a door, however, he stopped short. "Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?"

"She's going into the girls' bathroom. We can't follow her in there, we're not girls."

An amused smile played on the Headmaster's lips. "I think, just this once, we can overlook those minor details." With that he ushered Malfoy through the door.

Hermione walked to the far wall of the bathroom and crouched down against it for support. Tears streamed down her young face and silent sobs shook her body. Draco stared down at his feet. He felt very uncomfortable watching this private breakdown. It seemed like an eternity before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I think you have seen enough of this memory now. Let us return to my office."

When they were once again standing in Dumbledore's office, Malfoy was silent as the Headmaster observed him briefly. Dumbledore then produced the next vial. "Shall we continue?"

This time they appeared in the dungeons outside of the Potions classroom. The hallway was filled with students who were watching as a younger Malfoy provoked Harry with a button that he and his fellow Slytherins were wearing that proclaimed 'POTTER STINKS' in glowing green letters. He offered one to Hermione but instructed her not to touch his hands as he didn't want them tainted by a Mudblood.

An enraged Harry drew his wand and the young Malfoy took out his as well, his grey eyes like cold steel as he glared at Potter. The two boys simultaneously aimed hexes at one another, causing them to ricochet onto a pair of their classmates instead. Malfoy's hex struck Hermione. With the Slytherins howling in laughter at her misfortune, Hermione began to panic as her already oversized front teeth began to grow at an alarming rate.

It was then that Professor Snape came through the classroom door to find the source of the commotion. He sneered at Hermione's predicament, making a snide comment about her. She ran from the dungeon in hysterical tears, her hands attempting in vain to cover her teeth.

"I believe we can move on to the next one, don't you agree?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco didn't recognize the setting of the next memory. It was certainly not in Hogwarts though. He got his answer when that familiar bushy haired brunette was greeted by a woman who was clearly her mother. "Hermione, how can you possibly enjoy the Christmas holiday when you've done nothing but study," the woman, who Hermione resembled a great deal, chided her. "I know how much work you have to do at school, but this is a time for you to enjoy yourself. Come on, I'll make you some hot chocolate."

Hermione closed her book and followed her mother into the kitchen. While Mrs. Ganger started pulling out everything she would need for the hot chocolate, her daughter took a seat at the table looking very disheartened.

"That's it," Mrs. Granger said firmly. "Something is clearly bothering you and until you've sorted it out you won't be able to unwind and have a good time. Now, out with it."

Hermione sighed as she raised her eyes to meet her mother's. "It's just someone at school who's been harassing me."

"That Malfoy boy again?"

"Yes," Hermione conceded. "It's just that I work so hard and I'm one of the best students in my year but because I come from a Muggle family none of that matters. It's as if I'll never be good enough."

Hermione's mother closed the distance between them and enveloped her in a warm embrace. "That's not true. You are amazingly gifted and have one of the kindest hearts I know. What does it matter that you aren't a pureblood? You're just as good as any of them." Listening to her mother's words, Hermione began to feel over come with emotion. Her eyes became glassy pools of brown as tears threatened to spill over. "You have a family and friends who love you very much. That's all the validation you need in this world."

The two women sat there hugging each other, the hot chocolate forgotten. Draco was not used to such blatant displays of affection between family members. He came from a very cold home where such displayed of kindness were considered weak and inappropriate. Once again, he felt awkward intruding on such a personal moment. Thankfully, Dumbledore was soon guiding Draco back to his office.

"Now," said the Professor, "I think that you have seen sufficient evidence of how your behavior has affected its target. I would like you to keep this in mind as we look into one final memory, taken earlier this year."

They were in what Malfoy knew was one of the House's common rooms. It was dark and the common room looked nearly deserted. In the firelight, however, he could make out three huddled figures on the floor speaking to each other in low voices. Draco strained to listen as he focused on their conversation.

"…how can you say he's not?" a hushed male voice asked.

"Because," an exasperated sounding female began, "there's no hard evidence to prove it. You just –"

"Yes there is!" the first voice interrupted. "It was the same necklace from Borgin and Burkes."

A second male spoke up. "But we've already said that tons of people go to that shop. There's no way Malfoy did it."

Draco straightened up at the mention of his name. Moving closer to the conversing trio, he saw the dimly illuminated faces of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"And what about his detention with Professor McGonagall," Hermione added. "Since he wasn't even in Hogsmeade doesn't that prove he couldn't have done it?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just because he didn't personally pass the necklace off to Katie doesn't mean he wasn't behind it. He must have had someone else give it to her." His friends gave him a shared look of frustration.

Hermione ran a hand through her thick tangles of brown hair. "You're impossible, Harry. I think you're beginning to turn Malfoy into a scapegoat for your suspicions. Listen to me, though. Malfoy may be a mean-spirited little prat, but not even he is so horrid that he would actually try to kill someone." She rose from her spot on the floor. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. I suggest that you two do the same."

"I very much agree with Miss. Granger," the Headmaster said. "Let us return."

Once they were out of the Pensieve, Dumbledore turned to face Draco. "I do hope that you remember what I have shown you here tonight and that you truly consider its meaning. I believe that this is the most important lesson you will ever learn at Hogwarts and in time, perhaps, you will understand why." The old wizard smiled kindly at the pale teen. "Good night, Mr. Malfoy."

As Draco walked to the door he mumbled "Night," incoherently.

He slowly made his way back toward the dungeons and his House's common room, immersed in his thoughts. He did everything his family expected of him, never questioning why. He treated Granger and so many others with contempt for no other reason than the simple fact that he could. And yet, she hadn't been consumed with hatred for him. Of course she didn't like him; she would have been a glutton for punishment if this were the case. But she had stood up for him; she had defended his character to her friends. For the first time in his life someone believed in him. Someone had faith in him. And deep within his heart, Draco hated himself all the more for it.