Once again the mists swirled around the two adults and when they settled they still standing in the alcove. It seemed even tighter than before. A low narrow table sat in front of the couch now piled with all of the detritus that had once sat on their table in the corner. Young Hermione sat curled up in the left hand corner of the couch with a book open reading silently though occasionally her mouth moved along with the words. Draco sat on the right hand side, stretched out with his feet resting on his stack of books on the table, he had somehow spelled his parchment to stay stiff as he was writing on it. As they watched young Hermione stretched, moved her feet to the floor, and set her book aside turning to look out the window.
"Break time?" he asked.
"Just for a few minutes," she replied, pulling bags of crisps and biscuits out of her bag along with a thermos.
"Snacks?" his eyes lit up, "Please oh please say you're sharing with me."
"Hmmm, I don't know." she teased, "maybe I ought to make you pay for them."
"I will," he said, "I'm starving, lunch was atrocious."
"I wouldn't actually make you pay you loon," she laughed, "here have a chocolate biscuit."
He took the cookie eagerly, "Granger you are a goddess."
"Careful there Malfoy, say things like that and I'll expect you to worship me."
"Well if you're going to keep bringing me chocolate biscuits I just might. What is that?" he asked pointing at the thermos.
She held it up, "This is a Muggle invention, keeps liquids hot or cold, whichever you wish, without the aid of any spells."
"But how does it know which?" he asked.
She giggled, "It doesn't need to know. It's an insulated cup. It just keeps the liquid at or near whatever temperature it starts at. This one happens to be cold now because it has milk in it."
"Milk, to go with the biscuits. No you are most definitely a goddess. Now for a story," he said.
She sat forward to pass him the drink, "Oh you're going to tell one?"
He pouted, "I was hoping you would."
She grimaced wondering what he was going to ask of her this time, "I told stories two weeks ago, the last time we took a real break. I told two of them as a matter of fact."
"While I will concede you told me the troll story I hardly think you telling me you had a time turner amounts to telling a story."
"Fine I'll agree that wasn't a story, still I told you one I think it's your turn," she protested.
"But what would I tell that you don't already know? Your life over the past few years has been much more interesting. I want to know about you getting your Hogwarts letter. It clearly didn't come as mine did, by owl. So who delivered it and what did they say? How did your parents react? There may have been Muggle borns or Muggle raised people in Slytherin in the past but we don't have any currently and even if we did it's not something we would talk about. In general no one really talks about their home life, in private in our rooms maybe, at least those of us that have known each other longer might say something once in awhile but it's not a common topic of conversation."
She nodded, "Other than the first few days of first year it's not really a topic in our house either. If there is an issue you might discuss it with your closest friends but you don't share with everyone. We did have a bit of a comparison as to how each of us was notified as Dean, Seamus, Harry, and I were all raised by Muggles, or at least like Muggles. I'd love to sit with Seamus's mother and find out how she was able to hide it for so long. Seamus and Harry got letters by owl, quite the shock for Harry as he knew nothing about his parents-"
Draco held up a hand, "Wait! He knew nothing. I knew he was raised by Muggles, everyone knows that but they never told him about his parents? Did they not know? Was it something to do with the Statute of Secrecy?"
She shook her head, "No, they knew. He lives with his mother's sister and her husband and son. They just prefer to pretend the magical world doesn't exist, and as such they'd rather Harry didn't either."
He frowned again, "They mistreat him?"
"I don't know for sure. He doesn't say much, never gives details but I get the feeling they don't treat him well when they bother to notice he exists that is," she lamented.
"So he really came in knowing nothing just like you did?"
"Less than I did actually," she quipped,
"Only because you had already memorized Hogwarts: A History and the majority of our other first year texts no doubt."
Her cheeks flushed furiously, "I'm a researcher, it's just what I do. Sometimes too much."
"And you have an incredible memory," he noted.
Now she ducked her head, "It just took practice that's all. You don't have a bad memory yourself."
He nodded, "Ok so how did you find out you were a witch? Did you ever suspect anything before?"
She curled up once again in her corner of the couch, "I wondered how things happened around me that seemed magical and as I was a voracious reader I'd read books of people with powers so I always thought it just might be possible. I just never thought that even if it were real it would be me. My life was so ordinary. My parents had normal jobs. We went on the same holidays everyone else did. I went to a perfectly ordinary primary school. I had some acquaintances though never close friends. The only thing different about my life that I could see from others around me was the lack of sugar in my house. So when one day over the summer a knock came at the door none of us thought anything of it. We figured it was the postman delivering my book of the month. I went to answer the door and there was McGonagall standing there looking like she'd stepped out of the early 1900s or some strict religious sect that requires its females to have long hair and wear floor length skirts. Her clothes were acceptable for a Muggle but there was something different about her. I don't know what it was I noticed first but something was different about her. I could almost feel it. She called me by name and said she was there to speak to me and my parents about my schooling. I called for my mother who immediately wanted to send this strange woman away, but McGonagall is persuasive. Before I knew it we were sitting in the living room and she was telling us that she had come to invite me to a special school. She asked me to think back in my life look for times where things seemed to happen very coincidentally. Maybe something broke when I wasn't holding it, something fell, something moved when there wasn't any wind, maybe something about me that I didn't like had changed. I couldn't believe it. At least a few of those things had happened but I and my parents had always just written them off as coincidences or found some much more normal explanation. Here she was telling me it wasn't normal, no wait, it was normal for me and others like me but not for people like my parents. She explained about Hogwarts, pulled out her wand and did some simple transfiguration: changing a tea cup into a mouse, lifting the foot stool and keeping it floating. My parents were fascinated. They're dentists, scientists, um I come by my research skills naturally. They enjoy investigating the reasons behind things. She then told my parents that there was a fund that could be used to help me pay for my schoolbooks and other materials. They assured her that it was no problem they had money set aside for my education and would gladly give it to her or take me shopping themselves if she would only explain how and where. She smiled at that, I don't know why I remember that so clearly but I do. She smiled," at that young Hermione herself smiled and Harry saw the same soft smile grace the face of his grown friend.
"If I remember correctly your parents were with you in Diagon Alley second year and seemed rather lost so I assume she didn't tell them how to get you there. How did you go shopping the first time?" he prompted.
"She took me. We went by train to London and walked to the Leaky. She took me through and showed me which brick to tap. She was quite logical in her approach to shopping. We went first to Gringotts where she introduced me to a goblin who helped me exchange the money my parents had sent along with me and then opened an account for me. They also provided me with a small sack with what the professor said was enough money to complete my shopping. We then started at Madame Malkin's so that I could be measured and the robes completed as we did the rest of the shopping. Next stop was to get my cauldron and potions ingredients, then to Ollivander's which was quite odd."
"Ollivander is quite odd," Draco commented, "it is supposedly a common trait in wandmakers. A very solitary occupation for the most part, they seem to have trouble with people, though the same is often said of the best potioneers as well."
"That was part of it, he almost didn't talk to me more just around me. He took my measurements then began to hand me one wand after another. It felt like I barely got it one in my hand before he snatched it out and replaced it."
He laughed, "Yeah, it was the same with me, but he's good. It only took three or four before he found the right one for me. Of course he knew what my parents wands were made of so I think he started from that information and built on it."
"Obviously it wasn't quite that easy for me. At some point I lost track but I'm pretty sure it was something like fifteen wands before he found the right one for me. When he found the right one I knew it right away-"
"It felt warm-" he interrupted.
"Yes," she replied, "and there was light from the end of the wand."
"It was like that for me too interesting," he said. "Mother said when she got hers there was a rush like wind that came from the wand. There are apparently several different ways the wand responds when it's correct. It makes me wonder why.
"So you're becoming more interested in wands now, thought you were into potions," she teased.
"Ha ha, I am but that doesn't mean I can't be interested in other areas of magic as well," he protested.
"I know, anyway there was only one place left to go. It was as if she knew I wouldn't want to leave the bookstore. Our last stop, was Flourish and Botts. She directed me to all the correct books, the ones I needed for classes then gave me time to just wander it was wonderful."
At this he smiled, "I think I can imagine."
"Yes I know everyone knows I'm obsessed with books," she responded with a good natured self-deprecating laugh.
At this he laughed as well, "Well yes, but it's not just that. I'm the same way about books. I get it from Mother. It's not that Lucius doesn't like books but he sees them as merely necessary whereas Mother and I love them. We have a rather large library at home as I'm sure you can imagine. There are very few fiction books but there a number of reference books: potion books, spell books, history books. She could never read every book we own but still she loves them and collects them. She especially loves old books. Father always knows what to get her for Christmas. All he has to do is go searching in bookshops, particularly old bookshops, if he can find a first edition copy of a book one mother has never seen before he's set. She prefers books to jewelry or most anything else.
"Funny," she said, "for my parents it's the reverse. My father is the one obsessed with books, mostly fiction. However dad loves book, all books, especially old books. Christmas is the same at our house. If mom can find a first edition book he's happy. If she can find a first edition leather bound book he won't stop grinning all day or longer."
He leaned against the back of the sofa one arm up behind his head, "So if someone wanted to buy you a gift a book is not a bad idea?"
She peered at him through squinted eyes, "Yes, though it would depend on who was buying the book."
"That was it then, that was the end of your first excursion to Diagon Alley?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "McGonagall did take me to the ice cream parlor. That was a lesson all of its own. I had never seen so many flavors, some of them really strange flavors. And to see them stacked so high, the ice cream cone I mean. Scoops stacked one atop another seemingly forever without falling, just amazing. I was simply entranced by magic by the end of my first trip. I did almost nothing but read my books and occasionally try a spell until the day came to catch the train."
"So she told you about the train," he asked.
"Yes," she looked at him bemused, "how else would I know how to get to school?"
"I don't know," he said, "in magical families you never have to worry about it, that information is just passed down from one generation to the next. You go with your family and they show you how to get in. Guess I never thought about how muggle-borns would learn."
"When she gave me a ticket that said nine and three quarters I asked where on Earth that could be. I had been to Kings Cross Station with my family before. I knew there were no fraction platforms. So she told me exactly how to find it and how to get through the gate. Still might have thought it was joke but she was so serious. Then when I got to the station with my parents we saw others do exactly as she had told me to do and simply disappear so I said goodbye to my parents and did it, leaving them behind when I went. We weren't sure they would be able to make it through the barrier and we didn't want to cause a scene or have either of them wind up injured so I went alone. And wound up right where I belonged on platform nine and three-quarters at the Hogwarts Express. That's it, that's all there is to it and now break time is over," she said.
He nodded, "Yes I suppose you're right. We do still have work to do and very little time left to do it in."
The scene changed again. The two adults found themselves not in the library, but in a hallway low in the castle near the kitchen. Draco was the only one in sight though he was joined shortly by a house elf.
"Would you take this please to Hermione Granger in Gryffindor tower," the boy asked.
The elf immediately began squeaking and shaking, "No, no, no sir. I won't, I won't."
Harry stifled a laugh as Hermione sent a glare his direction before turning back to the scene in front of them.
"Then can you send me an elf that will," Draco asked.
The tiny elf began to shake a bit more, "Only two elves will go to Gryffindor tower sir."
Draco sighed and took a deep breath before responding, "Would you please get one of them?"
"Winky is been drinking butterbeer again sir, Dipsy will get Dobby sir," with that the elf popped away leaving Draco standing open mouthed in the corridor.
"Dobby?" he muttered.
Just a moment later both Harry and Hermione caught their breath and tears sprang to their eyes as the familiar elf appeared in the hallway.
"Master Malfoy," he said quietly.
"Dobby, it is you," Draco said.
"Yes sir. Dumbledore is giving Dobby a job here at Hogwarts sir. I is in charge of cleaning the Gryffindor tower."
"Oookay," Draco said slowly, "would you take this to Hermione Granger please? Just be sure no one else is around when you deliver it."
"Yes sir Master Draco sir," with that the elf popped away and the scene changed again back to the little alcove in the library.
Draco was alone pacing back and forth, stopping every once in awhile to look out the window or peer around the curtain. After several minutes of this he perched on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, hands between his legs clasping and unclasping, first the right hand squeezing the left then the opposite. He had just raised his hands and dropped his head into them when young Hermione pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the alcove though she moved no further.
He looked up at her, "I didn't think you'd come."
She hovered near the curtain, "I almost didn't. I was sure it was a bad idea. I didn't want to leave Harry and I knew he'd worry if I disappeared."
He tried to keep his voice quiet and calm, "So why are you here?"
She shrugged, "I don't really know. I just couldn't go home and not talk to you I guess, not say goodbye."
He stood slowly, doing everything he could not to scare her, "Goodbye as in until next year or just goodbye."
"I think you know," she replied simply.
"It doesn't have to be that way," he protested.
"Doesn't it?" she nearly yelled, "We're not living in the same world we were just a day ago. Things are different now."
"But I'm not different! I'm not my father! I haven't suddenly become like him! This doesn't have to be goodbye, please just… please don't," he begged.
She shook her head, "I don't… it's not safe."
"Hermione please just don't say goodbye. Make it see you next year. We can figure it out then. We'll make it work. I need someone in my life who's not part of that world. I heard what Potter said. I know my father was there, I know what happened and I believe it but please I need you," he took a step closer to her stopping when she pulled back slightly, "Just let me prove myself to you. Give me a chance, please."
She looked past him out the window, eyes filling, one lone tear trailed down her cheek, she wiped it away roughly and finally looked at him and nodded, "Ok then, I'll see you next year. We'll meet here after dinner on the first day of classes. If you don't show I'll know it's not safe. Don't bother sending an owl or an elf just show up or don't," she pulled the curtain aside and ran off.
"I'll be here," he said to her retreating back, "I'll be here. I just hope you will be too."
When Harry and Hermione landed back in the present she didn't say a word just looked at him and headed for the back garden. Harry picked up the Discman and followed her.
They apparated away arriving this time just outside the gates of Hogwarts. Harry let them in and they proceeded to the front doors. Hermione walked with a determined set to her jaw not speaking to anyone. Harry waved and said hello to each of the the students and professors that acknowledged them. When they reached the library he quickly made eye contact with Madam Pince. She nodded slightly and gestured toward the stairs.
Harry led the way up the stairs to the lone corner table where they had seen the young teenagers sitting and studying. Hermione moved past Harry and around the table. She pulled out the chair and sat where her younger self had sat just like the last time they had returned to the library. She ran her hands over the table looking at it intently as if waiting for a wave of memory to wash over her.
She raised her gaze to Harry and stood. This time she led the way, down the same aisle that Draco had led her through in the memory. She arrived at the small alcove. In the years since it had not changed. The window was still there looking out over the grounds, the couch was patch worn as ever, and the curtain though pulled to the side was still there. This little nook had either escaped the scars of the Battle or had been restored to its exact same condition. This was some comfort to Hermione but she couldn't quite explain why. She sat on her end of the couch and looked out the window. Several minutes passed by before she spoke.
"All of this," she gestured to the alcove and into the library, "all of this. It's a blank other than what we just watched in the Pensieve. None of this is familiar to me. We've only viewed a handful or more of memories and it's taken so long. How long did the Obliviation take?"
Harry thought for a moment before responding, "It seemed to be hours but I didn't keep track of time. I really don't know. It was night time when we first went to see Kingsley and the sun was out when we left."
She stood up and looked around again, twisting her lips, squinting her eyes, cocking her head first to one side and then the other.
"There's something here," she said pointing at the back of her head near the top, "back there... I can't... Something is there but I can't tell what. Something is niggling at my brain but I need more."
"More what?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said her hand again dropping to her side, "Whatever it was, it's gone now. There was a moment in the memory where I could hear her thoughts. It had to be my own memory but it disappeared along with the rest. I can see what we saw but I can't remember that part again."
Harry reached out, "This sounds like a good thing though. You had a reaction. Something in the memories hit something in you."
"It's all just so frustrating!" she cried.
She turned one more time looking closer at the couch, walked over and looked closer at the curtain, then stepped out to begin long walk out of the building. Harry reached out an arm to stop her and handed her the Discman.
She took it silently, turned back into the alcove, placed the headphones over her ears, and pressed play.
"I'm sorry. I didn't really want to leave it here but it just seemed the natural place. Obviously this wasn't the end of our relationship. I'll send the first meeting of the next year another time but I needed you to see this. We were both scared at this point in the year. There were so many people who didn't believe Harry, didn't believe Dumbledore when he announced that Voldemort was back. You knew it was true. I knew it was true. For each of us it meant very different things, both horrifying. It was shallow of me but I was also worried that you would judge me for my father something neither of us had mentioned in over a month at that point. You were rapidly becoming my best friend and I had fallen for you completely. I was madly in love with you. I still am. Remember me Hermione."
