Chapter 22: If One Only Remembers

Dear Draco,

You probably already know, as I'm sure tales of my thrilling escape from the castle have made their way around by now, but I've had to leave the North and go into hiding. I won't tell you where, as I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that security on the castle will be lifted. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I hope you don't doubt for a minute how much everything you've done this year means to me.

And you have done a great deal. I won't ever forget your help, or the kindness you showed to a mangy old stray dog.

I also don't want you to dwell on those things I told you about Voldemort's first rise to power. I think I frightened you, and I am truly sorry. It is not your fault the rat escaped. If Voldemort does come back, it will not be your fault. Those forces have no doubt been in motion since before you could walk, but I digress.

Draco, I am afraid I must once again ask for your kindness. If it is as I have feared, if Peter does indeed return to his old master, Harry will need someone to look after him. Someone to watch for signs, someone to stop him doing anything foolish. Obviously I would do it myself, but I have a feeling I'll be far away for quite some time. Besides, though I'm sure you doubt it, I believe you're much better suited for this than I. Of course, if you find this too onerous a task, I won't begrudge you. You have done more than enough already.

Should you need anything at all, please write to me. You really are a good kid.

Sirius

For the eighteenth time, Draco set aside the parchment and picked it up again. He'd read the letter until his eyes blurred, but still couldn't work out what to make of it.

Obviously, it was good. Sirius had escaped. He was in hiding. Draco could write to him whenever he liked. On the other hand…

What did Sirius mean, he was better suited to look after Harry Potter? He wanted to tell Sirius he'd never had much success convincing anyone not to do foolish things, let alone stubborn people who hated him. And he hadn't done anything for Sirius, not really. He'd tried, all right, but surely Sirius knew he'd failed at every turn?

On the other hand, no small part of him felt bizarrely comforted that, despite everything, Sirius didn't care that he'd failed.

The dormitory door creaked open, and Draco hastily snatched up Sirius's letter and slipped it into the interior pocket of his jacket. He turned sharply, but it was only Theo, who frowned slightly at his sudden movements but withheld comment.

"Hermione says she won't wait much longer," he said casually, throwing himself onto his bed and scooping up Olive from her beam of sunshine by the window. "And, er…" he furrowed his brow in thought for a moment. "That this was your idea...and…" he paused, then made a sound of consternation in his throat. "Damn. She said a lot of things very fast, anyway. The gist of which is that you should hurry." Draco laughed.

"Where did you see Hermione?"

"Entrance Hall, but does that matter?" Draco spared a glance in the mirror, mussed his hair slightly, and shrugged.

"I suppose not." Theo raised an eyebrow.

"Is that what you've been doing this whole time? Fixing your hair?"

"Perhaps you should try the same," Draco retorted. Theo's hair was flawless at all times, but that was beside the point. Theo laughed and threw a crumpled ball of parchment at him. Draco caught it in his right hand and returned it with his left, hitting Theo between the eyes. The latter yelped, and Draco shrugged.

"Quidditch."

"Get out," Theo replied, though he was grinning. Draco didn't wait to be told twice.

"There you are," Hermione greeted him impatiently. She'd been leaning against the pillars that flanked the front doors, but sprang up the second he stepped into the Entrance Hall. "You said you'd be five minutes." Draco glanced down at his watch, and scoffed.

"It's been scarcely fifteen." Of course, when he'd stepped into his dormitory for a jacket he hadn't expected to find Sirius's letter, but he opted not to tell Hermione that. Instead, he took her hand and they set off out the doors and across the grounds.

"Yes, which triples the amount of time you promised, hence my impatience!" said Hermione indignantly. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Hence?" Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn't entirely stifle her laugh.

"Shut up." Draco laughed.

"It's ten minutes' difference, that's nothing."

"It's not nothing," gasped Hermione, scandalized. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"If I told you I'd be gone an hour, and came back after fifty minutes, you'd be annoyed?" Hermione groaned in frustration.

"Draco, you didn't tell me you'd be gone an hour and come back after fifty minutes," she countered. "You said you'd be five and took fifteen, which is triple!" Draco felt a grin come unbidden to his face.

"But would you be annoyed?" he pressed. Hermione sighed.

"Well, probably not."

"So, what annoys you isn't the time itself, it's the percentage of the original time I mentioned."

"Does it matter?" asked Hermione. Her tone was exasperated, but her smile reached her eyes.

"Of course it does," Draco told her. "I'll never tell you how long I'll be gone again."

"Normally people just apologize when they've kept someone waiting," said Hermione wryly.

They had reached the lake, and Draco jumped casually up onto a large rock jutting out over the water.

"Aren't I worth waiting for?" Hermione shook her head and laughed in disbelief, but climbed up after him.

"You're worth something," she muttered. She joined Draco at the edge of the rock, and he slipped an arm around her and drew her closer, nestling his cheek in her hair. The thought of spending a summer apart from her occurred to him for the first time, and he threw his other arm around her and hugged her tightly. She gave a startled yelp, but recovered and returned the gesture. She looked up at him as he released her and, seeming to sense his thoughts, gave him a melancholy sort of smile and laid a soft, feather-light kiss on his cheek. He closed his eyes, concentrating very hard on the way she smelled and the precise sensation of her lips against his skin.

"I won't be going away this summer, you know," she said softly. Draco opened his eyes.

"What?"

"I mean...I won't be in France. So, if you wanted to come to London. You know, more than once? I could meet you there." She went slightly pink. "I mean, if you like." Draco stared. Of course he would, and the idea that she'd like it made his heart soar and his insides glow with a kind of exhilaration he couldn't quite describe.

"I'd love that," he whispered, and she grinned. After a moment she turned to face the water, her expression growing more thoughtful.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"I've got to ask you-I mean…" she bit her lip. "Promise me that you won't get annoyed."

"People always say that before they do something annoying," Draco remarked. Hermione sighed.

"Draco, I'm serious."

"All right, I'm sorry. I won't get annoyed."

"Right." Hermione took a deep breath. "You've already said you don't want to discuss it, and I heard you, and I...well, if that's still how you feel, I won't force you. But, Draco…" she hesitated, and Draco had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what she was about to ask. "What do you know about Sirius Black? I mean, what has...your, er...your family told you?" He sighed slightly and squinted out over the water, watching the giant squid's tentacles as they squirmed just beneath the surface. He could tell her everything. Part of him wanted to; if he showed her the letter, perhaps he'd be able to understand how he felt about it. At the same time, something inside him felt deeply protective of whatever tenuous bond existed between himself and Sirius. If anyone found out, he was terrified it would break. Losing Sirius was more than he could bear.

"No one really talks about him," he said cautiously. "I'd never even heard his name until this year. My mother, she...well, she's not exactly keen on talking about her family." Hermione nodded, frowning thoughtfully.

"All right, then," she said quietly. And then, slowly, still looking out over the water, Hermione told Draco a load of things he already knew about Sirius...and three things he didn't.

Lupin had to go away because, on the night of Sirius's mysterious escape from the Dementor's Kiss, he'd transformed and nearly killed Hermione, along with Potter and Weasley.

That night, Sirius had met Harry Potter, spoken to him, told him the truth about his parents' deaths...and Potter had believed him.

Finally, it was Potter and Hermione who had rescued Sirius from Flitwick's office; Draco and Ginny couldn't have missed them by more than a minute.

As Hermione finished her story, Draco knew he'd made the right decision. He understood, now, why Sirius had asked such a bizarre favor in his letter. And, if Potter ever knew about Sirius's letter, Draco would have no chance of carrying it out.

Not that he intended to carry it out. But, if he did…

Ugh.

With a jolt, he realized Hermione was looking up at him expectantly, as though she'd asked a question. In the distance, a few eagles swooped low over the water, and Draco concentrated very hard on following their trajectory with his eyes.

"So...he's escaped, then? Sirius Black?" Hermione nodded.

"Yes."

"And he…" Draco paused. The question game he'd played with Sirius slipped unbidden into his mind, and to his annoyance, an enormous lump formed in his throat. He knew how much it must have meant to Sirius, meeting his godson. Clearing his name. Was his own bond with Sirius, perhaps, already broken? He recoiled slightly, as if the thought had bitten him.

"You're right," he said abruptly. "I don't want to talk about this." Hermione pursed her lips and studied him for a moment, concern battling something else he couldn't quite read for control of her face.

"All right, then," she said softly. "It's just...well…" she sighed. "With the rat getting away...Draco, I'm worried that...well, what if...everything changes, now?" What if, indeed. Her lip trembled slightly, and all at once, Sirius and Potter were driven clean out of his head. He drew her close again and kissed her forehead, relishing her warmth as she melted into his arms.

"Some things aren't going to change," he whispered. "I promise."

They weren't. The way she made him feel-lighter than air, impossibly hopeful, so warm inside as to almost be painful, but not quite-was more precious to him than anything else in this world or the next. No matter what happened around them, she would always be his home.

"Oh!" cried Hermione, as they made their way back up the path to the castle, slightly late for the end-of-term feast. "Remind me that I've got to see Professor McGonagall in the morning." Draco frowned.

"Why?"

"I've decided to drop Muggle Studies," she announced, as though this were perfectly obvious. "Good," said Draco. "I never understood why you took it in the first place." Hermione gave an indignant gasp.

"It's a fascinating-" she broke off. "I'm not wasting time with this argument again," she said primly. "I don't think I can stand another year like this one," she went on, after a moment. "And, well...without Divination and Muggle Studies, I think I'll be able to hand in the Time-Turner." Draco stopped cold.

"I-the what?" He heard his voice go up around an octave at the end, but couldn't bring himself to care. "You were-I-what?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Of course," she said casually. "For heaven's sake, Draco, you didn't think I was getting to all those lessons without any help, did you?" To anyone else, she had the air of discussing the weather or some such mundane topic. Draco, however, could see the relish with which she devoured his shock.

"I studied with you!" he exclaimed, indignation now pushing him forward so quickly that Hermione, slightly shorter than he, had to jog to keep up. "How on earth did you...turn back bloody time without my noticing?!"

"I didn't," she said simply. "I only did it after you went to bed." He opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him, and she laughed. "My god, Draco, I thought you knew. You did ask how I was getting to two classes at once, that day you were in the hospital wing." This was so unbelievable that Draco stopped in his tracks again, spinning to face her so abruptly that he nearly lost his balance.

"And you told me I was being ridiculous! And then you ran away, and-" he broke off, unable to put into words the simultaneous exasperation and admiration roaring through him. Hermione laughed again, harder this time.

"Well, it's moot," she said flatly. "As I'm handing it in."

"Oh, I cannot believe this," snapped Draco, beside himself. "You've outdone yourself, Hermione, honestly, this is unbelievable."

"What's unbelievable?"

"It's unbelievable that my girlfriend's had a bloody Time-Turner for a year without telling me! I mean, I can't-" he broke off. A mischievous grin had split her face and a blush was creeping over her cheeks, and all at once, his own words echoed back through his head and he longed for the earth to open and swallow him whole. "I-I didn't mean-fucking hell, you know I didn't-" he broke off with a groan, but she was gazing unabashedly up at him as if she'd never seen anything so lovely. He could feel his own face grow so hot he was surprised he didn't burst into flames. "I-I mean…" he stammered. "Unless…?" The question hung in the air for what felt like a year, and then she seized his shirt collar and gave him a kiss that made him doubt which way was up.

"Careful," she laughed, as they broke apart. "If you carry on like that, I may faint."

"Don't tease, I'm still annoyed with you," he informed her, but the grin refused to leave his face as they made their way, now hand in hand, up to the castle. Just before they reached the oak front doors, he held her back.

"Er-that...is a yes, then?"

"Oh, Draco," she breathed, and he wondered whether he might faint himself from the softness of her hand as she brushed his hair back from his face. "Yes, I-yes." She kissed his cheek and turned, suddenly businesslike, toward the doorway. "Now, let's go. I'm sure they're going to announce Gryffindor's beat Slytherin again for the House Cup, and I don't want to miss it."

"What does it matter, you can just use your Time-Turner to see it," he retorted at once, but nonetheless allowed her to lead the way into the feast, and though they went their separate ways at once, they were held all evening in the warmth of one another's eyes.

The warmth evaporated the following day, when it was time to make their way down to the platform where the Hogwarts Express waited to whisk them away for the summer. Hermione's taunt as they'd entered the Great Hall for the feast turned out to be wrong. Slytherin had forfeited their chances for the House Cup when they lost the Quidditch final, but Gryffindor hadn't fared particularly well either. Instead, Hufflepuff had won and they'd spent the evening beneath banners of black and canary yellow while the older Slytherins bemoaned the loss of their seven-year winning streak. Draco, for his part, couldn't have possibly cared less. The end of the school year normally filled him with melancholy, but this year he could scarcely stand it, for it wasn't just loneliness that awaited him at the end of this train ride.

Sirius had told him not to dwell on what he'd said about the first war, and although the thought of a girl so blinded by terror for her family that she stole their very selves and died before she could give them back made his heart ache, it wasn't what haunted him. It wasn't what filled him with sheer, paralyzing horror of facing his family again.

No, that honor belonged to what he'd learned about his aunts. The real reason for Bellatrix's long stay in Azkaban. Andromeda's very existence. The vague reason Sirius had given for her running away-though Draco was sure there was more. How could he possibly be expected to board a train and walk into his family's home when he was simultaneously terrified of whatever echos of their unspeakable past he might find there, and sick with a corrosive anger at his parents for keeping it from him?

And yet, time conveyed him relentlessly forward until he was left with no alternative. He made his way numbly down to the carriages, sensing his friends' concerned glances in his direction but unable to bring himself to reassure them. As they slipped down from the carriage and onto the platform, he fell back and allowed them to leave him behind. If he was lucky, they'd think he was with Hermione, who, in turn, would think he was with them.

Unfortunately, Theo wasn't fooled. He didn't enter the compartment, simply took Draco in for a moment from the doorway.

"Are you…?"

"Don't you get sick of asking, year after year?" Draco didn't raise his head from the window as he spoke. Theo was quiet for a moment.

"I…wasn't going to ask whether you're all right." His voice was brittle in a way Draco had never heard before, and it gave him the strength to look up. "I was going to ask...whether you wanted to be alone." Draco paused. He did, so badly it hurt. On the other hand, there was something in Theo's expression that wouldn't let him give this answer.

"Come in, then," he said quietly. Theo nodded gratefully and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. He studied Draco for a few more moments. Draco had the impression speaking would be a grave mistake, and didn't prompt him.

"Lupin asked me for a word at the feast," he blurted finally. "He said…" Theo paused as though trying to remember some lethally complex set of directions, and with a jolt, Draco recognized the look on his face. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Theo was about to tell him.

"He apologized? Said he knew...how weird the lesson on boggarts was? That...in hindsight, it was a bit of a shit idea for a lesson, and…" he trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "I dunno, I...I just feel a bit…"

"A bit like you've just woken up from a really weird dream?" Draco supplied. Theo gave a soft laugh.

"Yeah. That exactly." He paused. "I mean, he couldn't have possibly known the boggart would-I mean, I didn't know, so-"

"What?" Draco interjected, unable to stop himself. "What d'you mean, you didn't know?" Theo frowned.

"You didn't honestly think you're what I pictured, did you?" Startled beyond belief, Draco nodded. It hadn't occurred to him for a second to think otherwise.

"Well...yeah, I...I did." Theo looked flummoxed.

"Was it...did it turn into what you were picturing?" he said incredulously. Draco shrugged and nodded. Theo shuddered slightly.

"Weird." He paused. "Anyway...I've never had anyone…" he trailed off and bit his lip. For the first time, Draco noticed a tiny scar on his lower lip where Olive had scratched him when the dementor came onto the train. His heartbeat quickened slightly of its own accord, and he took a deep breath in an effort to slow it. Theo glanced out the window, oblivious.

"Have you ever...I mean, has an adult ever...apologized to you?"

"Lupin," said Draco, with a hint of a smile. "For that day in the courtyard." Theo nodded.

"I wondered," he said quietly. "Weird, though."

"Mental," Draco agreed. "But, er…"

"Sort of nice?" Theo finished.

"Yeah." He paused, suddenly feeling as if someone had removed all the air from the compartment. There had been moments, hadn't there, when he'd wondered whether Theo might share his bizarre feelings about family? "Theo?"

"Yeah?"

"Er…" What on earth was he asking? "What, er...what's your family like?" Theo looked startled.

"I...I'm not sure how to answer that," he said slowly, after a moment. "It's just been me and Mum all my life. She doesn't exactly...talk about her family. Or to them." Draco wasn't sure why this answer surprised him. He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it.

"What about your dad?" His own father commanded such presence in his life, trying to imagine anything else made him feel dizzy. Theo, however, simply shrugged.

"I stopped asking when I was about eight." Draco clutched the window unconsciously, as if to prevent himself falling.

"Are you ever...I mean, d'you worry about…" Don't you spend every waking minute terrified of all the horrid things you're bound to eventually find out about your family? Isn't it impossible to breathe? "Never mind." A shadow of something soft crossed Theo's face, as if he could sense Draco's thoughts.

"I think the chances of my family being anywhere near as exciting as yours are fairly slim," he said matter-of-factly. He winced. "Sorry. I didn't mean that to sound...well. Like it did." Draco, however, laughed. However it sounded, Theo was right.

"Er...why did you want to tell me?" he asked, after a moment. "About Lupin, I mean." Theo looked startled.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well...the others would've liked the story just as much," he said slowly. "But you came to find me. I supposed I wondered...why?" Theo frowned.

"I sort of thought that was obvious," he said flatly. Lost, Draco simply shook his head.

"No."

"Draco, you, er…" Theo paused. "If I told anyone else, I'd have to explain...why the boggart turned into you. You...already know." Of course. He was an idiot. "I wanted to talk about Lupin," he added. "So explaining that...would've taken too long, and then…well, it's really beside the point." Draco nodded.

"Right." His heartbeat was speeding up again, but for a different reason this time. Ginny had understood when he told her how he felt, that day they'd walked in on Flint and Wood. Could Theo...help him understand it?

"Er...so, you…you're...gay. Completely." Theo looked at him as if he'd asked him whether the earth was round.

"Yeah." Unable to think of the words to express his next question, Draco nodded and wracked his brains for a moment.

"Right. How, er. How d'you know?" It wasn't exactly right, but it would have to do. Theo looked utterly confused.

"I dunno," he said slowly. "I just...do? I suppose?"

"That's really unhelpful." It took Draco a split second to realize he'd said this aloud. He felt his eyes widen in horror and his face grow hot, but it was too late. Theo frowned in confusion for half a second more, and then his face cleared and comprehension dawned in his eyes.

"Oh." Instinctively, Draco averted his eyes at once. There was a moment of soft, thoughtful silence.

"Do you still want to be alone?" asked Theo. Draco looked up. He didn't. After all, he'd be alone soon enough. He shook his head. Theo grinned.

"Let's go, then. I left Blaise with my cat, so one of them's probably dead now." Draco laughed and followed Theo out into the corridor, unspeakably grateful as they joined the warm embrace of their friends' laughter all the way to London.

Draco had never thought to wonder what the inside of a morgue might feel like. If he had, he almost certainly would've likened it to the Manor's foyer that afternoon; the pale gray light streaming in through the windows looked appropriately solemn and clinical, and his footsteps echoed in a way that made his surroundings feel cavernous and vaguely surreal, so as to cast doubt on any who entered as to whether they were alive or dead. He shuddered slightly.

"Hello?"

Silence. He ventured in a few paces, and, shrugging, abandoned his things in the entryway and wandered aimlessly down the first floor corridor, wondering whether the Manor was empty. A step into the library proved him wrong. His mother sat by the window, fingers idly tracing the pages of a book she absolutely wasn't reading, eyes fixed on something beyond the glass. She didn't look up as he entered.

"You're home," she said cooly. As this was demonstrably the case, Draco saw no reason to confirm or deny it.

"Where's Father?"

"Prague." Draco frowned.

"Why?" A pause.

"Your father's business is his own, as you have been taught all your life." There wasn't anything unusual about her tone-in fact, it contained so little conviction that it scarcely qualified as a tone in the first place-but nonetheless, it simultaneously slowed Draco's heartbeat and made his blood boil. It was a very peculiar sensation.

"I met him," he said flatly. "Sirius Black." His mother's expression didn't falter, but her grip tightened around the book.

"I am aware of his forays into the castle this year," she said crisply. Draco nodded.

"Yeah," he said casually. "That was me. I let him in." His mother looked up sharply, as if he'd struck her.

"Lies do not interest me." Draco's insides shook, but he forced his voice and manner to remain level as he crossed the room.

"That's funny," he said coldly. "Why didn't you ever mention Andromeda, then?" For the first time in Draco's living memory, his mother looked stricken.

"Where did you hear that name?" Her voice was scarcely more than a harsh whisper, and he wasn't sure whether it invigorated him or chilled him to the bone. He shrugged.

"I told you, I met Sirius Black. It's not my fault you don't believe me." Unable to watch the color drain from his mother's face any longer, he turned his attention to a loose thread in his sleeve. As he twisted it idly between his fingers, something else came floating to the surface of his mind, something he hadn't thought about since his first meeting with Sirius.

"He recognized me right away, you know," he said quietly. "Though I'm sure he'd never seen me. Isn't that right?"

"Of course it's right," his mother snapped, and her voice had regained some of its usual crystalline edge. Draco nodded, not quite daring to look up.

"He said I look like someone. But when I asked whether it was you, he said no. Wouldn't say anything more." He paused. "Mother, who do I look like?" If he'd looked up, perhaps he would've seen his mother's hand fly through the air. Instead, it struck him square across the face with such force that he stumbled back into the bookshelf behind him, only just catching himself before he fell to the floor. His cheek burned and his insides felt raw and frozen and horribly exposed. His eyes rose of their own accord to meet his mother's, and they shared an otherworldly moment of understanding that they'd each played an unforgivable part in rupturing the very fabric of the universe. For the first time in both of their lives, his mother had struck her son. And Draco...Draco had asked a question whose answer was so ghastly as to render his the worse offense.

Dear Sirius,

I'll help you however I can. I'm really glad he believes you.

Draco