Chapter Twenty-Five
Caught
Draco sighed, adding three drops of the potion to each cup of tea. After thinking about it, he did the same with his own.
His head was spinning from lack of sleep and he could do with a little help to feel better.
He returned to the living room with two of the cups levitating behind him and another in his hands. He sat down at the small table in front of the sofa, sipping his tea as he watched the two Muggles, who were still sound asleep.
He turned his gaze to the window where the first rays of dawn were visible and sighed again.
In just a few weeks he had managed to make them both remember Hermione's childhood. The memories he was implanting were slowly joining the ones they already had, awakening that part of their brains that had been dormant for so long.
And they were both starting to remember things he didn't even know himself. He had watched Hermione's memories dozens of times, and none of them involved her riding a bike or winning a writing contest.
It was working.
He saw Peter squeeze his eyes shut, so he flicked his wrist and the two cups landed softly on the table, close to their heads.
The man sat up first, resting his hand on his wife's arm.
"Jane."
She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice.
"Peter?"
They both looked at each other and Draco shifted uncomfortably.
"How are you feeling?"
He felt a shiver as Peter's gaze met his. The man narrowed his eyes and stood up, crossing his arms and taking a step forward.
"What did you say your name was?"
Draco swallowed, sensing that the question would lead to nothing good. He got to his feet, offering him his hand just as he had the first day.
"Draco, sir. Draco Malfoy."
The last thing he saw was Peter Granger's fist flying to his face.
When Draco opened his eyes again the sunlight was so bright it blinded him for a moment.
He grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing. He gasped as he felt something wet on his upper lip and sat up with a jolt.
He had to close his eyes again as his vision blurred.
"Slow down, honey. You've hit the ground pretty hard."
That female voice sounded familiar. The sofa slumped down beside him and, as he looked up, he saw Hermione's mother giving him a small smile.
"Your nose was bleeding badly," she murmured, picking up the handkerchief that had fallen to the floor.
Draco hissed at the sight of the blood on it. To his right, Peter was watching him with a serious look on his face.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I remember my daughter talking about you," the man commented with a furrowed brow. "And the horrible things you used to say to her."
Draco ran a hand across his forehead, brushing aside his sweat-stained and probably bloodstained hair.
"Now I know who taught her to punch," he muttered between his teeth, snorting.
"What?" Peter asked grimly.
Draco shook his head.
"Nothing."
He felt something gently prod his leg and looked down. Jane was offering him his wand.
"Can this heal you?"
"I think so," Draco stood up, looking sideways at Hermione's father. "I'll be right back."
He locked himself in the bathroom, silencing the door, and gasped when he saw his face in the mirror.
His nose was broken and his shirt was stained with blood.
He fixed it with a flick of his wand, stopping the bleeding. He took an ointment out of his pocket and applied some under his eyes.
That would stop the bruising.
Draco smiled sadly as he threw his clothes on the floor, got into the shower and turned on the tap.
He knew the day would come when her parents would remember his name and hate him. And he was ready, or so he thought.
But seeing Peter's cold stare had made his heart shrink.
Hopefully, he'd change his mind... though that wasn't the point.
His goal was to get Hermione her parents back. Everything else was secondary.
If he had to suffer the bitterness and accusations from both of them, it seemed like a good price to pay.
Draco re-entered the room a few minutes later. Jane pointed to his cup of tea, which was already cold. He tapped it with his wand, warming it instantly, and sighed in relief as he drank its contents.
The headache subsided, clearing his mind.
"Before we go any further, I need you to explain to me how you could possibly be friends with my daughter," Peter said, sitting down next to his wife on the sofa.
Draco put the empty cup back on the table and sighed.
"I'm not her friend," he cleared his throat and looked away, trying to hide his nervousness. "I'm her boyfriend. We've been together for almost three years."
When he looked back at them, they both had the same surprised look on their faces.
"Boyfriend?" Jane repeated, blinking.
"Don't try to fool me. I know you think people like us are rubbish," Peter grunted, clenching his fists.
Draco leaned back. He didn't feel like taking another one of his punches.
"You're right. I used to think that," he admitted quietly. "But over the years I changed my mind and, once I got to know her better, I fell in love with her."
They exchanged a glance but did not interrupt him.
"I've come all this way because Hermione isn't completely happy without her parents, and I want her to be," Draco said, lifting his chin. "I want to do something good for her. Give her back a part of her life that she thinks she's lost forever."
Jean bit her lower lip, the same gesture her daughter made when she was nervous or worried.
"She doesn't know you're here?"
"No," Draco twisted his lips, setting his wand aside. "And I'm not coming back until you two agree to come with me."
A long silence followed his words. Jane was the first to break it.
"Do you really love her?"
Draco nodded.
"I'd do anything for her," his lips curved at the thought of Hermione. "Like breaking a few dozen wizarding laws and trying some illegal therapy on her parents to give them back their memories."
Jane's eyes filled with tears and she clasped one of his hands in hers.
"I want to see her, Draco," she asked in a whisper.
He swallowed and shook his head.
"Not yet," he replied, squeezing her hand and releasing it. "You have to remember everything first."
Jane let out a long and shaky sigh.
"All right," she looked back at her husband, who nodded. "How many are left?"
Draco placed the still-filled vials on the table, watching the silver threads swirling inside.
"Ten," he brushed the one closest to him with his fingertips and stared at Jane. "And now the complicated part begins."
Peter frowned.
"Complicated?"
Draco bit the inside of his cheek, glancing between them as he thought.
How could he explain to them everything that had happened in the last ten years?
"A dark wizard wanted to control the magical world and attacked our school several times," he explained, omitting part of the truth so as not to scare them too much. "He was eventually defeated, but we were at war for a year. That's why Hermione erased your memories so that you would go far away from England and not be in danger."
Both their faces paled. Surely Hermione would have mentioned the Dark Lord in front of them, but it was still too early for them to remember.
The first question came from Jane.
"Did Hermione fight him?"
Draco nodded.
"She and her friends."
"And you?" Peter asked, confused.
Draco's face darkened.
"I was a coward."
Peter watched him silently and clicked his tongue.
"I don't think you're good enough for my daughter."
Draco chuckled.
"We agree on that," he picked up his wand again, twisting it in his fingers. "Shall we continue?"
Jane sighed.
"Okay," she glanced sideways at her husband and nodded. "The sooner we finish, the sooner we can see her again."
"Are you sure you don't want me to put you to sleep this time? You know I'll have to tie you up to ensure you don't move."
They both shook their heads.
"We want to know what it feels like," Peter assured him, intertwining his fingers with his wife's.
Draco smiled, pointing his wand at them.
"As brave as she is," he muttered, so quietly that they didn't hear him. "Incarcerous!"
"I need you to check this before you go home, Hermione."
"Of course, Arthur," she said, accepting the two folders and placing them on top of a book. "I'll finish it all today."
"It's exciting, isn't it?" Mr Weasley asked, rubbing his hands together as he smiled. "Another World Cup final held in our country."
Hermione pursed her lips.
"I just hope the security doesn't fail this time."
"It won't," Arthur shook his head, resting a hand on the edge of the table. "Besides, You-Know-Who isn't on the loose anymore."
"True," she admitted, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. "But some of his followers are still at large."
Arthur waved his hand, playing it down.
"Not for long," he looked around and crouched towards her, lowering his voice. "I shouldn't tell you this, but tomorrow there's going to be a raid on what the Aurors believe to be the last refuge of the Death Eaters. And something tells me that's where we're going to find the three fugitives there."
"I hope so," Hermione replied, looking him in the eye. "Is there any more news about the Liberators?"
Arthur drummed his fingers on the wood nervously.
"I know they're trying to infiltrate their inner circle, but they haven't succeeded yet."
She nodded, sighing through her nose.
"Don't worry, Hermione. They won't hurt you again," the man added, squeezing her shoulder.
Hermione smiled.
"Thank you for telling me," she pointed to the folders on her desk as she tied her curls into a bun, holding them away from her face. "I've got to get started on this now if I'm going to get any sleep today."
Arthur chuckled and opened the office door, turning to look at her one last time.
"Molly and I will expect you for lunch tomorrow."
After her confirmation, he stepped out into the corridor and closed the door.
Hermione snorted once she was alone. She opened one of the folders and picked up the first dossier, suppressing a gasp of surprise when her door burst open again.
Pansy Parkinson strode in and closed it again, silencing the room. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor until she stopped in front of the desk.
Hermione blinked, slightly confused.
"Pansy?"
It was her first time visiting her.
"Hi," she looked around, arching an eyebrow. "Nice office."
The Slytherin girl sat down in one of the chairs, crossing her legs and staring at Hermione.
She put her quill aside.
"You've never been here before."
Pansy clicked her tongue.
"I'm not interested in politics."
Her green eyes were boring into hers. Hermione frowned and leaned back in her chair.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Pansy ran her tongue over her teeth and she felt a painful twinge in her stomach at the sight of it. It was a gesture Draco made as well.
Her parents' house wasn't the same without him. She missed him so much.
"Is there something going on between you and Blaise?"
The question startled her so much that Hermione jerked back as if she'd been hit, and Pansy rolled her eyes.
"I know there isn't, but I had to ask. He's been acting strangely for a few weeks now," she added, looking down at her nails.
Hermione sighed, relaxing her posture.
"I've thought so, too."
Pansy's eyes twinkled.
"There's something strange going on here, Hermione."
"Yeah... but I don't know what we can do."
"I think he knows where Draco is," Pansy murmured in a deep voice. "And I'm not stopping until he tells me."
Her evil grin was infectious. Hermione couldn't help but laugh, and Pansy did the same.
"Poor Blaise."
Pansy ran a hand through her hair, still laughing.
"Would you like a drink tonight?"
"Will Millicent be there?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose.
Pansy shook her head and she smiled again.
"Then Luna and I will be happy to join you."
"Perfect. I'll expect you at eight o'clock at my manor," Pansy stood up, walking to the door. "Daphne makes amazing cocktails."
She was about to leave when Hermione called out to her.
"Pansy?"
She turned around with a serious face.
"Can I invite Ginny?"
Pansy rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically.
"Fine," she agreed, pursing her lips. "But no more Weasleys."
Hermione smiled.
"Just her. Promise."
Blaise looked up as he heard footsteps in the corridor and a few seconds later saw Draco enter his office.
He was even paler than the last time he had seen him.
"How are you?"
"Fine," he replied casually, stopping at the side of his desk and pulling out his wand. "I need some more of your hair. I have to go see Potter and talk to him about the raid he has planned."
Blaise sighed.
"Pansy's been acting really weird, you know? She avoids me and barely talks to me."
He wrinkled his nose as his friend tugged at a lock of his curls, pulling several of them out.
"I told you you could tell her the truth," Draco muttered as he dropped them into a vial.
The potion bubbled and turned dark blue.
"I can't tell her anything if she doesn't want to see me."
Draco took a large gulp, grimacing at the taste.
"Shit," he grunted through his teeth, resting both hands on the table and panting as his body changed and his skin darkened. "I'll talk to her as soon as I'm officially back in England, Blaise. And I'll explain everything."
"That won't be necessary."
They both gasped at the sound of that female voice.
"Pansy!"
Draco raised his wand, but she had hers pointed at his heart.
"Don't move," she warned him, narrowing her eyes. "I knew it. I knew you and Draco were up to something," she added, shooting Blaise a hateful glare.
He swallowed, holding up both hands.
"It's not what you think."
"Then what is it?" Pansy cocked her head, pointing to one of the chairs for Draco to sit in. "Start talking."
Draco, who had already transformed into Blaise, shook his head and put his wand away.
"I have to go."
"You're not going anywhere," she snarled, advancing towards him until the tip of her wand dug into his chest. "Do you know how worried Hermione is about you?"
Draco-Blaise glared down at her.
"Pansy," he shifted his gaze between her eyes and grabbed her wrist, pushing her wand away. "You have to trust me."
She snorted grimly.
"Don't tell her you've seen me. Not yet," Draco-Blaise asked quietly.
Pansy rolled her eyes.
"Okay," she turned to Blaise, crossing her arms. "But I want an explanation."
"And Blaise is going to give it to you," Draco-Blaise assured her with a nod. "I have to go."
Potter was probably already waiting for him. He was about to leave the room when he heard his friend's voice.
"Whatever this secretive thing you're doing is, be careful."
Draco-Blaise turned, giving her a small smile.
"And you take care of Hermione for me."
He disappeared at full speed down the corridor, heading for the fireplace. Pansy folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.
Blaise pushed back his chair, patting his right leg.
"It's a long story."
Pansy reluctantly sat on his knee and he wrapped his arms around her, sighing.
"You're finally looking at me," he murmured, tucking a lock of her black hair behind her ear.
She sighed, averting her gaze.
"I was angry with you."
"Why?"
Blaise lowered his head, brushing the skin of her neck with his nose and closing his eyes as he breathed in.
It had only been a few days, but he'd missed her.
"Could it be jealousy?" he whispered, leaving a kiss behind her ear.
He felt her tremble in his arms.
"Maybe," she admitted softly.
Blaise pulled away and their gazes met again.
"I only have eyes for you, Pansy," he assured her, staring down at her.
Her lips curved into a small smile.
"I know," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing their foreheads together. "But you seemed to have eyes for Hermione as well."
Blaise muttered a curse under his breath.
"That wasn't me."
Pansy laughed softly and kissed his cheek.
"Poor Draco," she sighed, burying a hand in his curls. "He can't pretend to be you when she's around."
She saw a spark in his dark eyes.
"That's the problem with being in love," he said, lifting his brow.
Pansy rolled her eyes.
"Shut up."
She pressed her lips to his and Blaise smirked, pulling her to his chest and kissing her all too eagerly.
He loved to make her blush.
