Disclaimer: I do not own any characters created by J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Thank you guys so much, the reviews on my last chapter were amazing on here and AO3! I nearly melted, I was so happy! Thank you all for the support!

Chapter Seventeen

.

The last week of October came with a busy few days for Draco. He had an appointment with Dr. Lisa and to go into Hogwart's and hand-in his latest round of assignments. Thankfully, he hadn't had anymore incidents with other students and Auror Buxley made sure to accompany him within two feet wherever he went. As much as Draco loathed having an escort, at least he didn't get any stinging jinxes thrown at him, or if he did he wasn't aware of them.

Slughorn continued to be impressed by his potions essays and, when Draco told him of the lab that Sirius and Remus had set-up for him, even gave him a list of some potions they were to practice brewing in the next term. He told Draco that all he needed to do was bring in a phial of the completed potion along with any essays he had due in, and it would count towards his grades.

Draco had dared to leave the castle with a glimmer of hope in his chest.

His appointment with Dr. Lisa was another matter.

He told her all about how he had realised how terrible his actions were just in the name of trying to please his father and, in a sense, being brain-washed with the Dark Lords propaganda. While she was pleased with his progress and that he was wriggling out of his denial phase, she still wanted to push him into talking about the war. He wasn't ready for that, and as soon as she pushed into that territory, he clammed up. He was aware he was doing it, but weren't the nightmares enough? Did he really need to talk about them as well?

The session ended on a sour note, and when he got back to Grimmauld place, he locked himself in his room.

.

Potter was getting a little taller with each week. It was mere millimeters every time, but now that he was up to Draco's thigh and was a ball of energy, racing about as much as his skinny legs would carry him. He was also taking his deal with Draco very seriously and was doing his best to learn as many words as possible.

Sirius found it rather cute, how much Harry was trying to impress Draco. He'd never had so many adults in his life before that would pay so much attention to him and praise him for doing things right. He was getting much better at the writing too, and Draco had made a vow to Sirius that, in a few months time, he was going to start teaching the kid cursive handwriting, as his 'chicken scrawl' had been appalling to read.

The fractured memories that Potter let slip sometimes still threw Draco. He didn't know how to process them as they came at him from all angles. It would agitate or upset him, knowing that he could only really talk to Sirius or Remus about such things, and even then their own knowledge was limited. Begrudgingly, the one person who probably knew as much as Potter himself, was going to be his friends. The thought of talking to Granger at all bothered him, however Draco did conceded that maybe he did miss company his own age.

That's how he found himself outside the study door and knocking gently.

"Come in!"

Pushing the door open, he raised his eyebrows in surprise upon seeing Remus and Sirius lounging on either side of the desk, essay papers spread out across the top. They were both a little rumpled, in casual, comfy muggle clothes and with a mug of tea each.

"What's up, kid?" Sirius asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I can come back later, if I'm interrupting."

"Ah, you're fine," Sirius brushed his concern away. "We're just making first and second years papers. It's boring. What's up?"

Draco fidgeted slightly, his palms growing warm. "I ... er ... was wondering if it's okay for me to invite Granger over this weekend?"

Both heads snapped up to look at him, wearing twin expressions of shock. Remus set his quill to one side and leaned back in his chair, almost exactly as Sirius had done. "Are you that bored?"

Draco shook his head, "Oh, no. I've just had some things on my mind and she seemed like the best person to ask."

"Is this about Harry?" Sirius asked, quirking a dark eyebrow.

"... Yes."

"Draco, you know you can always come to us with these things."

"I know," he looked at the floor, unable to meet their gaze. "It's just -I know you two have a lot on your plate right now. Besides, we all know I need to make amends for past mistakes and try and get on with Potter's friends, especially as he gets older and they'll want to visit more often. I can't hide in my room forever, right?"

"Well you could try, but I'd imagine it'd get very boring," Sirius teased. He spun his chair so that he could look at Remus, "Do we have any plans on Saturday?"

"I was thinking we could go and see Andromeda with the children," Remus shrugged. "It's been a while since she's seen Teddy, and I'm sure she'd love to fuss over Harry."

Sirius spun back around to look up at Draco. "Do you think you two will be alright in the house by yourself for the afternoon?"

"I'm sure we'll manage," Draco replied tartly. "I can't do magic and she has a decent right hook. The only one going to come out of it injured, will be me."

The pair exchanged a glance, and it was in that moment that Draco realised just how close these two men were. They had been best friends for years, gone through two wars together and now they were dancing around one another. Draco could understand it was hard to move on from a spouse, especially after having them be murdered, but Draco wasn't sure what Remus was holding back. Perhaps it wasn't his business to know. He could see how doting Sirius was to the other man. It was plain as day.

"Okay er ... thank you for letting me invite Granger. I'll write to her now and ask if she's free."

"You can do that in here, Draco," Remus reasoned, flicking his hand so that a spare quill, ink bottle and piece of parchment floated over to the armchair they had in the corner by the fireplace.

Biting his lip he said, "Thank you."

Settling into the armchair, he debated on what to write and kept grinding his teeth at how best to word such an odd request. In the end, he just decided to throw caution to the wind and keep it short and simple.

.

'Dear Granger,

I know this may seem an odd request, but things have come to light regarding some of Potter's memories from his childhood. I had hoped you'd be able to shed some light on this for me, as I'd like to better understand what has happened to him. If you're able, you're welcome to come here this Saturday sometime in the afternoon.

Have a pleasant evening,

Draco Malfoy.'

.

"Done. May I borrow Archimedes?" he asked.

"That was quick," Sirius grinned. "Sure, make sure to give him some treats when he comes back."

Draco decided not to comment on that. Soon enough the scratching of quills was picked up again, the silence broken only by Sirius saying things like, "Wait, wait! This kid actually thought that Salamander blood was good to use in a summoning ritual!" before collapsing over the desk in laughter. Remus would tut or roll his eyes, but Draco could see the small smile tugging at the mans lips.

A tap on the window nearly made him yell out.

It was just Archimedes with a reply from Granger.

Feeling as though his whole body weighed a ton, Draco dragged himself to the window to let the barn owl inside. Puffing out his chest, Archimedes accepted the owl treats as he stuck out his leg for Draco to take the note.

.

'Dear Draco,

I can't say I wasn't surprised by your letter, it took me a little while to process what you were asking. I'm free this weekend, Ron is going to see his family at the Burrow. I can pop by about 1pm if that's convenient for you?

Have a good night,

Hermione Granger.'

.

Short, to the point, but overall it was a step in the right direction.

"What did Hermione say?" Remus asked, noticing that Draco was rereading the short note.

"She's free on Saturday. She'll be over by about 1pm."

"Ahh, good. Make sure that you eat beforehand."

Draco frowned. "Why?"

"If you two plan on talking for hours on end, I can imagine not much eating will take place," Remus shrugged. "Just stands to reason."

"They can have biscuits," Sirius stated.

"Biscuits are not good, Paddy," Remus sighed. "Although it does sound lovely right now."

"Shall we take a break?" Sirius asked, raking a hand through his mass of curls.

"I'd rather burn the lot, but that's not very professional of me."

Draco had to bite back a laugh at that. Sirius didn't restrain himself. Standing from the desk, the two men stretched their aching limbs before following Draco back down to the kitchen where he put on the kettle for a fresh batch of tea and went hunting in the cupboards for the good biscuits.

The rest of the evening passed rather quietly; Remus and Sirius eventually went back upstairs to finish grading papers and so Draco was left to his own devices. Eventually, he wandered into the lounge and tried to fiddle about with the TV. He couldn't remember what he watched, something to do with winning a load of money just by answering questions? Eventually, he drifted off on the sofa, the dying light from the fireplace keeping him warm.

.

~0~

.

The house was quiet as Draco waited on the edge of the sofa, his hands fiddling with the TV remote just to have something to do. Remus, Sirius and the kids had left about thirty-five minutes ago and it seemed like the longest thirty-five minutes of his life since the trial. He glanced for the millionth time at the clock on the mantle and cursed himself.

'Stay calm,' he willed himself. 'Granger isn't going to hex you. She was the one trying to encourage civility!'

The roar of the floo made him jump out of his skin.

Granger stepped through as calmly as anyone could step through a floo, brushing soot from her hair and clothes onto the hearth. Combing her hair out of her eyes she gave a tight-lipped smile. "Afternoon Draco," she said.

Releasing some of the tension in his muscles he was able to utter a stiff, "Granger."

They stood facing one another awkwardly for a moment, before Granger gave a smile and gestured towards the door. "Would you mind if I got a drink?" she asked.

"H-help yourself."

He watched her walk through the ground floor with such familiarity it made him feel a twinge of jealousy. They went down into the kitchen where she helped herself to some muggle drink from the fridge. She poured it into a glass and took a long gulp before sighing. "Sorry, the floo always gives me a dry throat," she rubbed her neck for emphasis.

Draco nodded mutely.

"So what was it you wanted to talk about?"

It was a good thing she didn't want to do the small talk bit, because right now Draco wasn't sure he'd be able to choke out anything polite or noteworthy.

"Potter's started to get some memories back."

"So soon?" she frowned, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "I didn't think that would happen until he was a little bit older."

"Apparently his bad memories stem from an early age," he said bitterly. "Can you tell me what you know about his childhood growing up? His muggle relatives?"

Hermione licked her lips, her fingers drumming an erratic beat against the glass in her hand. She glanced down at it for a moment before sighing and shaking her head. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

He grimaced, "There's no use avoiding the topic, Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected. "And I'm not. I'm asking if you'd like a cup of tea to have something else to focus on when I tell you."

Clenching his teeth, he gave a stiff nod and watched as she breezed around the kitchen as though it were her second home. It niggled at him that she must have a history with the place, being Potter's friend and all, she must have been here countless times, even after Sirius had remodeled the place.

The kettle whistled. Granger poured two cups of tea and brought the milk and sugar over to the table. Draco sat down and fixed his tea -milk, two sugars -and watched as Granger did her own. She settled down in the chair and stirred her tea with a downward turn to her mouth. "I know you must have heard some rumours at school about his upbringing," she said quietly, her voice distant. "A lot of them were stupid, but the crux of most of them was that he was neglected as a child."

Draco nodded.

She drew in a deep breath. "Harry hasn't told me every sordid detail of his upbringing but suffice to say what he did share wasn't pleasant. There would be weeks were they would starve him as punishment for silly things; innocuous things they'd blame him for. Or they would feed him plain bread and water. I'm sure he mentioned that when they didn't want to deal with him at all, they'd lock him up in his cupboard for days at a time."

"His what?"

"His cupboard," she said. "Up until the age of eleven, right before first year, Harry slept in the cupboard under the stairs."

Draco felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

He started to feel flustered but drank his tea in large gulps just so that he didn't throw something. He was sure the crockery rattled every so slightly in the cupboards but he chose to ignore it.

"I -I see," he ground out. "Continue."

"Well his family bullied him a lot, used him like a house-elf, cooking food before he was ten, cleaning up after everyone, denied desserts that sort of thing. His cousin was horrid to him," she pulled a face at the memory of having glimpsed the Dursley's at Kings Cross. "He had several spells of accidental magic and would get punished for those too, and he couldn't understand why."

Draco dug his nails into his thigh.

"They gave him a bedroom after first year. He threatened them with magic. He never told them that he was forbidden from doing it outside of school. The one good thing about his relatives being ignorant of magic," she gave a joyless smile.

"How very slytherin of him," Draco remarked.

"Ah, that's a story for another time," she said, her lips twitching. "He didn't find out until first year about what happened to his parents."

"WHAT?!"

She nodded, "His relatives maintained that they died in a car crash. They always believed that witches and wizards were freaks of nature."

Draco had a momentary flashback of Potter asking him why his relatives called him a freak and it twisted his insides until he felt sick. "How could they be so horrid? Without him, they'd most likely be dead by now!"

"They didn't care, Draco," she said. "The war was something that happened to our side, not to theirs. If they couldn't see it, hear about it, or be part of it, then it didn't exist."

"And since the war? None of them had the decency to say sorry?"

"His cousin did," Granger said. "From what I remember, Harry said they had a moment before his relatives went into hiding with Dudley, but I don't know if they've spoken since."

"What about his aunt and uncle?"

"Oh, his Uncle wouldn't give a toss whether he lived or died. His aunt -I think she realised the damage she'd done, bowing to her husband as she did. I think she knows that nothing she says will undo everything."

"Do you think Potter will feel differently after ... all this?"

"It's hard to say," Granger shrugged. "Only time will tell."

Draco drained the last of his tea and shook his head. "I just don't understand. Why did he choose to de-age himself after everything they did to him?"

"Maybe he forgot?" Granger pondered out loud. "He'd just found out he could do magic, it should have been a dream come true. But when you've spent most of your adult life being chased by a megalomaniac, child neglect truly does seem like the lesser or two evils. Not that it's any excuse but ..."

"He shouldn't have had to go through it at all."

"I did sometimes wonder how he might have turned out if he'd had a proper family, no abuse or neglect, but a proper, loving family. How he would have thrived. Apparently he did too," she frowned down into her cup before draining the last of her tea. "I can't begin to imagine his though process for any of this but ... we just have to grin and bear it and hope that it doesn't present too many challenges."

"How can it not? He's going to lose nearly two years of his life because of this and people are going to start to question where their Golden Boy has disappeared to."

"There are ways around that. Complicated ways, but Harry never does things by half."

"What are we meant to do when his memories come back more vividly?"

"You can do as you have been; preparing him that he may remember things, to be open about them and to question them. You have to be wholly open and honest with him now."

Draco snorted, "that's not going to go well."

She gave him a soft understanding smile. "It won't be easy. The more Harry ages, the more things he'll remember. Right now it's sporadic, many people don't remember their childhoods that vividly anyway. However, by the age of six, things will be quite intense for him."

"Another two months to go? Great," he sighed and rubbed his temples. He could feel the bud of a headache blooming. "I just wish there was more I could do."

Granger reached out and placed a firm, kind hand on his forearm and squeezed. He looked up, shocked as she smiled sadly at him. "You're already doing it. Being here, helping him, being a better person. It's all Harry ever wanted for all of us. Don't doubt yourself in that, Draco."

He swallowed thickly, her palm hot and heavy on his arm.

It felt nice to be touched by someone again. It had felt so long.

"You know, I had no idea about your parents," he blurted out.

Silence.

He didn't dare look up at her.

"For what it's worth, although I made fun of them for being muggles, I can't begin to understand how brave you were to erase their memories of you. I could never do that."

Removing her hand from his arm, she sat back in her chair a little straighter, her hands around her empty mug and her face turned down. "I'm not brave for that."

"Yes, you are!" this time it was he who reached out and touched her arm. "You kept them safe. I would never be able to do that. At the end of the day, I'm selfish. I want my mother to remember me no matter what evil, torturous thing happened to her. But you made that sacrifice -you could have died and they wouldn't have known. I would want people to miss me, even though I don't deserve to linger in any way in peoples minds. But you, Granger." She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. "How could anyone measure up to you?"

The floodgates opened.

She burst into tears right before him, dropping forward into her hands and sobbing. He sat there awkwardly, not feeling comfortable enough to hug her, but knowing that squeezing her hand a little was territory not meant for him. The crying eventually subsided enough for her to wipe at her hazel eyes and choke a little, smiled as she accio'd a tissue to wipe her face. "You know," she dabbed at her eyes. "You really should start calling me Hermione."

He gave her a awkward smile. "Okay ... Hermione."

.

~0~

.

"I still don't understand why you're all dressing-up?" Draco frowned as Remus bounced Teddy against his chest, both of them dressed as werewolves. Draco had to admit, Teddy looked all manner of adorable in the fuzzy wolf onesie, but he didn't understand why Remus even entertained the thought of wearing the brown fuzzy ears, gloves and comical tail hanging from his trousers.

"It's for Harry," Remus shrugged. "Although I'm almost positive that Sirius is getting a kick out of it all as well." He rolled his amber eyes. "Harry always said he never got to do this as a kid and I know it's more of an American custom but every kid should give it a go once, I think."

"Did you ever do this? As a kid?"

"Yes, I think I did it ... once or twice before I was bitten. As much as my family liked to joke spending Halloween chained up in the garage whilst you hear your friends laughing and running around outside is rather heartbreaking."

Draco pursed his lips, not knowing what to say.

Sending the shift in mood, Remus shook his head as Teddy grizzled on his shoulder. "So, you're not going to come with us?"

Draco pulled a face. "Not only do I not want to go, but even if I did, I don't have an outfit to wear."

"That's what you think!"

Both men turned to look up the stairs where Sirius stood, dressed from head-to-toe in black silk, a starched white shirt and a red lined cape with the highest collar Draco had ever seen. Across his chest he wore a gaudy red ribbon with a chunky gold cross inlaid with a ruby. That wasn't real, was it? His mane of dark curls had been slicked back to lie flat against his head, curling at the nape of his neck. From his mouth he wore the most comical fangs the blonde had ever seen!

"And what are you supposed to be?" he asked, cocking an amused eyebrow.

"Count Dracula obviously!"

"Uh huh, I'm sure. And where's Potter?"

"Here I am!"

The kid had come bouncing down the stairs dressed in fuzzy leggings and top, a puffy bulbous black body with eight squiggly legs pointing out of it, and on his head he had, what looked like, a black russian hat with two HUGE eyes stuck onto it.

"Oh yes and what are you today?" Draco teased.

"I'm a spider! See? I have eight legs!"

"Ah, yes. Very scary."

"Where's your costume, Draco?"

"Oh er ... I'm not going."

"But you have to! It's halloween!"

"You're more than welcome to come, Draco," Sirius smiled, placing a placating hand on Potter's head to stop him from bouncing. "Harry picked out your costume all my himself, didn't you?"

"Yes! It's amazing!"

Draco sighed. He really wanted to just have a quiet night in his room, like all his other nights, but seeing Potter so easy and bouncing about, prattling on about all the types of sweets he was going to get -and Merlin forbid if he mentioned his muggle relatives at all -and how Draco had to come too, otherwise he wouldn't get sweets, and that wasn't nice. It was all too hard to ignore.

"Fine," he eventually said. "Let me go and get changed."

"If it's too big, we can adjust it for you!" Sirius called after him.

Draco grumbled, not bothering to reply.

He didn't like to admit that he took him a smile to shuffle comfortable downstairs in the strange white costume, the flimsy, gauzy bandages trailing all over the place. The packet had said 'MUMMY COSTUME' and he'd read enough texts about Egypt to know this was a very basic rendition of a Mummy, complete with the silly wrap to go around his head.

When he came downstairs, he saw Sirius and Remus grinning wolfishly up at him, but Potter was having none of it.

"That's not how Mummy' walk, Draco. You have to do this-" He stuck out his arms and legs as straight as possible and starting walking with his arms outstretched. "Uuuuugh, uuuuugh! See?"

Maybe Potter hadn't been looking where he was going, but he smacked headfirst into the lounge door frame. Draco hurried down the last few steps just as Sirius scooped Potter up and brushed his fringe aside, looking for a bump. "Are you okay, love?" Sirius asked, wand out as he cast a few subtle diagnostic charms.

"Yeah ..." Potter rubbed at his head. "I didn't see the door."

Sirius frowned a little and exchanged a glance with Remus. They all knew what he was thinking; the door had been right in front of Potter's face, how had he not seen it?

"That's okay," Sirius crooned softly, bouncing Potter gently. "Let's go out and get lots of sweets, eh? Just make sure to hold mine or Draco's hand."

"Okay," Potter grinned, the bump on his head seemingly forgotten. Draco allowed the brat to snag one of his bandaged hands. "Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"

.

.

Draco awoke in the early hours of the morning. He didn't realise what had disturbed him at first as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Then he heard the crying.

Kicking his covers aside, he clawed on his dressing gown -Remus had insisted he would need one -and padded to his door. Opening it a fraction he peered out into the hall just in time to see Sirius carrying a wailing Potter to his own room. He'd completely forgotten that the aging process would happen against that night, although the pains seemed even more intense this time around.

"Don't let him get me!" Potter's small voice sobbed out through the darkness.

Draco's heart clenched.

Shifting out onto the landing, he strained his ears as he crept up the flight of stairs to the next landing. Outside Sirius' door, he pressed himself against the wall, straining to hear as his cousin attempted to soothe the infant.

Sat on the bed, Sirius held Harry against his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his back and pressed gentle kisses to his cheek and forehead whenever he could, gently shushing the child as he did so. "It's alright Harry, it was just a nightmare, no one's going to get you I promise."

"Make the lady stop screaming ... please ... it's scary ..."

Sirius' heart clenched and a tear raced down his cheek. "I know, love, I know it's scary. She was scared too, that's why she screamed." He bit his lip to stop himself from sobbing as he hugged Harry to his body.

Harry buried his head into Sirius' chest, his small hands clenching at the fabric of his shirt. He knew, deep down, that he was sat and warm, and that his daddy loved him. Daddy would protect him from the bad man. But whenever he closed his eyes, there was that flash of green light and, he didn't know why, but it scared him. Then the screaming echoed in his ears.

It took almost half an hour for Harry to quieten down.

He hiccoughed a few times, and let Sirius wipe his red, blotchy face with a handkerchief. Sirius looked down into those wide, watery green eyes and felt every fiber of his body flare with the urge to shield Harry from the horrors of his own past. He couldn't do that he knew that, but he couldn't admit to the full truth right now either. Fighting back a sob, he croaked out, "Do you want me to tell you why you had that nightmare, love?"

Harry looked up at him, his small bow lips turned down. He nodded.

"Well when you were a teeny tiny baby, a bad man wanted to hurt you. But your mummy was very brave and wouldn't let him do it. Your mummy saved your life."

"She screamed because she was scared of the bad man?"

"Yes, love. We all were."

Harry frowned, tugging at Sirius' shirt. "Where is mummy now?"

A lump caught in his throat. "Your um ... Y-your mummy isn't here anymore, Harry. She's an angel now."

"Oh ... When will she come back from being an angel?"

He couldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. Not now, not while Harry was awake.

"I'm ... She won't be back from being an angel, sweetheart. Your mummy died to save you. So did your Daddy. Do you ... know what that means?"

"It means ... She went to sleep and ... can't wake up anymore."

"T-that's right, love."

Harry caught onto the waver in Sirius' voice. "Don't be sad, Daddy. The bad man didn't take you away. Only my other Daddy."

And Merlin, if that wasn't a punch to the gut, he didn't know what was!

"I ... I think it's time we go to sleep now, Harry."

"But everything hurts and I don't want to see the green light again!" the kid panicked, his eyes widening with fright.

"No, love, no. We'll have the night light on, okay? No bad man, no green lights or screaming okay? Just you and me."

"Okay ..." Harry squirmed, still unsure about the idea of going to sleep again.

Sirius took initiative in that moment, and picked Harry up off his lap and walked over to his bed. It was still warm from where he'd been sleeping in it. Fluffing up his pillows, he settled Harry into the indent he'd left, and gently tucked the warm blankets around him up to his chin, before brushing his black hair aside and placing a tender if damp kiss to his scar.

He climbed into the bed beside Harry, wrapped his arms around the kid, marveling at just how small he seemed in comparison, before the floating orbs above his bed dimmed to a soft, honey colour. It was instantly calming and Harry's tense little body relaxed against his chest. Harry turned over, burrowing his little face into the crook of Sirius' arm. The man threaded his fingers through Harry's hair, rubbing his back and pressed a kiss to his head.

"You know I love you, right Harry?"

"Mhm," Harry mumbled quietly. "Love you Daddy."

Sirius clenched his eyes shut, willing the tears to stay at bay until Harry had fallen asleep. It was definitely a struggle, but he couldn't give the child more ghosts to deal with.

Outside on the landing, Draco was crouched on the floor, his own eyes raw from where he kept wiping at them. His throat was thick from struggling not to cry and his bare feet were frozen to the floorboards. How could he have forgotten that tonight was the anniversary of the Potters' death? It made him feel physically ill. Once upon a time, they had just been people caught in the crossfire but now? It wasn't just that they were young and innocent and had had their whole lives ahead of them. It was the fact that Potter had been there, as a baby, and had somehow survived the ordeal.

And the most frightening, traumatizing thing about all that?

He remembered it.

A/N: I hope I haven't broken any hearts? And look at you guys, getting two updates so close together? :P

Please be warned that updates will be sporadic as I'm getting a lot of costume commissions and have my own comic con prep, as well as work, to deal with.

If you loved this chapter please R&R

Belle xox