WARNING! This chapter deals with a broken family and violence. It is not very graphic, but I will give a warning anyway.

…

Chapter 4 – Family

Hermione didn't know the way out of the forest, but that was no problem, as apparently Philippe knew. He galloped fast through the overgrown forest floor as if he had just a single goal in mind. She didn't complain, but just hung on with all her might. If she fell then, she was unsure if Philippe would stop.

The sun was still high on the sky when they broke out of the forest. Her home, the little cottage, stood like a beacon calling to her. As soon as she arrived, she jumped off Philippe and rushed inside the house. She didn't consider to lead Philippe to the stables or even to remove the saddle. She only grabbed the bag with the potions before she left the horse without a backward glance.

"Father," she called throwing open the front door. She heard movement from the bedroom, and ran to the door, but as she was about to open it, the door was opened from the other side. A strange young man was there. "Who are you?" she asked in surprise taking a step back. "Where's my father? What have you done to him?" her voice was rising a bit as she tried to make sense of the presence of this man.

"Hermione?" a very weak and raspy voice called from within the bedroom, "is that you?"

"Father?" she called again and quickly pushed past the man. Luckily he didn't try to stop her.

Mr Granger was lying on the bed; he looked ashen, his skin was grimy, his hair was sticking to his skin, and his eyes looked dull. She sat down on the bed next to him and clasped his hands. "Father!"

"Hermione, my daughter," he whispered looking at her fondly. "Are you really here?"

"Yes, Father," Hermione smiled before she leaned in and kissed his forehead. "I have returned home to take care of you."

"I am so very glad to see you, my dear," he whispered smiling at her. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Father," she smiled, "but what happened to you?"

"That monster threw me inside a carriage and sent me home. I tried to jump out on the way, so as to return to you to help you, but the doors were locked and would not open until I was back here. Then I went straight into the forest to return to the castle. I brought all the riches from the city in an attempt to bargain with the beast, but I could not find the castle."

"Oh, Father," she whispered and caresses his cheek. "How did you find your way out of the forest again?"

"I didn't," he admitted sadly. "Draco found me and helped me home. Without him, I would still be wandering even now."

"Who is Draco?" she asked confused.

"I am," the strange man from before suddenly said. She turned to look at him as he was standing in the door to the bedroom, and looked at her with a challenge in his eyes.

Slowly, Hermione rose from the bed and walked to Draco. As she was looking at him more closely, she noticed that he was not much older than she was. He had the pale skin of the North and white-blond hair. She promised herself to be nice to him, since he had helped her father. "I am Hermione," she smiled holding out her hand to him. "Thank you for taking care of my father when I was unable to help him."

He looked at her hand for a few moments before he grabbed it. "Think nothing of it."

"Have you been taking care of him all this time?" she asked, before quickly adding, "he cannot pay you for your time, we have no money."

"I am not staying for the money," Draco replied affronted. "You think I would leave him by himself, when he is sick!"

"I'm sorry, it's just so overwhelming," she admitted. "These past days - weeks - months, I hardly know anymore, have been strange."

"Weeks or months would be the right term. You been gone for more than two months."

"How do you know?"

"When your father came back from the castle, he went to Widow Smith's to ask for help to free you," Draco told her. "While you were doing who-knows-what in that castle your father was trying to raise an army to free you."

"Why didn't anyone help him?"

"They didn't believe him, of course," Draco said as if it was the most obvious answer, which she had to admit it kind of was. "There have been rumors of beasts in the forest for generations, but no one believes there is a castle in the forest much less a scary beast living there."

"But you believe it?" she pressed.

"Yes."

"Why?" she furrowed her brow. Why was this man so different from the others in the town? Did he know something, the others did not?

"I've seen the castle," he told her answering her silent question. "I know every part of the forest."

"How can you?"

"That is a story for another time," he laughed, "but I should probably tell you, I saw an otter this morning." He looked at her innocently, which she could not take at face value. She could not believe that Draco mentioning an otter was a coincidence. Her eyes few to his, but she could not read his expression, nor were she completely sure of his meaning.

"I like otters," Mr Granger said from the bed looking at the two young people, "but I didn't think they lived around here."

"Oh, they don't," Draco informed him quite seriously while looking at Hermione. "I guess the otter came from the forest."

At that moment she knew that he knew her secret, but she didn't understand how he could possibly know. Hadn't Tom said only magical beings could see or sense the Patronus? Then Draco had to know magic! Instead of replying to Draco, she turned to her father. "Father, do you need anything?"

"No, my dear. Now that you are home, I can finally relax," he told her smiling widely, but he was getting tired. She fluffed his pillows and helped him get comfortable, before she left him to have an undisturbed sleep.

As soon as the door to the bedroom closed behind her, she spun to face Draco. "What do you know?"

"Somethings," he replied seriously without even saying anything.

"Tell me!"

"I don't know you, so why should I tell you?"

"I could say the same to you!" she challenged.

"Yes, but I have the advantage of having heard most of your adventure from your father already," he pointed out.

"Is that why you've been helping him? To hear stories of a magical castle!" she hissed at him, before she quickly recognised Draco had done nothing to harm her father, so she added in a friendlier tone, "I'm sorry! You've been taking care of my father when I could not. Thank you for that."

"You are welcome," he said with a wry smile. "It was actually just by chance that I found him in the forest."

"Why? What happened?"

"As he said he was in the forest trying to reach the castle, but he got lost. I am familiar with the forest and came across him, as he was calling for help, so I helped him."

"What is wrong with him?"

"He's suffering from fatigue, distress, and exhaustion. Conditions that in themselves are not fatal."

"Are they fatal in combination?"

"I don't think so, but he is not improving as I would have liked," he admitted

"Will he get better?"

"Now that you are back, I think that will help him greatly. Your imprisonment at the castle has caused him much distress and sorrow."

"You think, just knowing I am home will help him?"

"Yes," he replied, "but now I've admitted to knowing somethings and I would really want some answers from you."

"Fine," she sighed but smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"Does a monster really live at the castle?"

"Don't call him that," she hissed, turning from Draco feeling guilty for having ever considered Tom a monster. "He is no monster. He is as human as any of us."

She let him ask many questions and she answered as truthfully as she could. He asked about the castle and how it came to be cursed. He also wanted to know about the servants and the enchantment. Finally, when he had asked just about a million questions, she quickly interjected a question of her own.

"Can you do magic?" she asked.

"Yes, I can perform magic," he admitted correcting her. "It's why I spend so much time in the forest. It is a safe place to practise."

"Oh, I hadn't realised that."

"That is the general idea. It wouldn't be a safe place to practise, if everybody knew about it, now would it? Did you learn magic at the castle then?"

"Why would you assume I learned it there?"

He smiled, "because your father does not know about magic, and I am sure he would have known if you had been learning before you disappeared."

"You are right," she sighed. Suddenly, she remembered something important. "Do you know about magical potions?"

"Only very little," he admitted. "Why do you ask?"

"Tom gave me a bag of potions before I left. They were to help my father, but I don't know which ones to use."

Draco considered the dilemma before suggesting, "I can bring my mother."

"I don't understand."

"I can't really help you with potions, but my Mother can. She is a witch and a very good one at that. May I bring her?"

"Yes, of course. If you think she can help she would be very welcome," Hermione hurriedly confirmed.

Draco left shortly after with a promise to be back within a couple of hours. Hermione set the potions up on the kitchen table. It would provide a better overview for Draco's mother to see what was available. Next, she checked on her father, but he was sleeping. Only then did she remember Philippe and decided to take care of him. He needed a good brushing of his coat, but also his mane and tail. His dash through the forest had thrown a lot of mud on him. She spent quite a while grooming Philippe, but he definitely needed it, and deserved it.

Draco and his mother arrived just over two hours later. The woman, whom Draco introduced as Narcissa, looked almost like an angel with her pale skin and soft, grey eyes.

Narcissa quickly took stock of the situation; she pushed the younger people out of the bedroom, when they followed her in, and ran a few tests on Mr Granger. Then she looked over the potions and grabbed two of the vials. One of them she held out to Hermione with a, "you need a Pensieve," before she took the other vial into the bedroom for Mr Granger.

"What's a Pensieve?" Hermione asked Draco as his mother closed the door to the bedroom.

"It's basin made from stone or metal," Draco informed her. "It's used to watch memories."

"Memories? You can't watch memories," Hermione said uncertain looking at the vial in her hands.

"With magic you can," Draco smiled at her ignorance. "You remove the memories and they can then be view from a non-participant point of view."

"Why should I need such an object… a Pensieve?"

"Because you are holding a vial of memories," he pointed out.

"What? But where did they come from?" she asked holding up the vial and looking at it. The vial held a cloud-like silvery substance. "This vial was among the other potion vials, but why would it be there?" Hermione asked in confusion. She kept looking at the vial, turning it over in her hands.

"Am I correct in assuming; the monster packed the potions for you?"

"Yes, but why…," she started before she realized where Draco was going. "Do you think he...?"

"It's the best guess, is it not? But he must have known that you have no Pensieve, so why would he give you a vial of memories?"

"I wouldn't even know they were memories."

"And he also hid them among the potions vials. Why?" Draco mused. "Perhaps you were not even supposed to find them now. Want to see what they are?"

"But I don't have a Pensieve."

"I know where we can find one," Draco smirked.

Hermione agreed easily, as she was very curious to see what memories Tom had left for her and why he had hidden them. "Can we go now, while your mother takes care of my father?"

Draco asked his mother to remain at Mr Granger's side, while he and Hermione went back to the Malfoy house to watch the memories. She looked at them sternly before agreeing to their scheme.

It took them just about half an hour to go to a small house, smaller than the cottage the Grangers lived in even. Draco found the Pensieve easily enough. It had been in the family for many hundreds of years, so it was both aged and used to look upon, but it still functioned without difficulties. Hermione added he memories and they watched them swirl around in the basin. She looked at Draco determined and they bent their heads over the Pensieve.

…

Hermione looked around; they were in a corridor in the castle. She could not say which corridor specifically, but she recognised the castle easily enough.

"The castle?" Draco asked and she just nodded in confirmation. "Why are we here?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted looking around. A pale young boy with dark hair ran past them with a terrified expression on his face. He looked familiar somehow. Where had she seen him before? Suddenly, she remembered. He was the boy in the painting at the castle, the painting Tom had shown her when he told her, who he had killed. The boy had to be a young version of Tom. "Tom," she called but he didn't acknowledge her.

"He can't hear you," Draco said. "This is just a memory. We cannot interact or change anything."

They heard screams that followed the boy as he ran along the corridor.

"I'm gonna beat the freakiness out of you, boy!" a man's voice screamed.

"Tom, please! Don't hurt him!" a woman's much softer voice begged.

"Who are they?" Draco asked.

"The child, I believe, was Tom the current inhabitant of the castle."

"The monster?"

"Please, don't call him that," she begged, "but yes."

"So if the child was your Tom, do you think the other Tom, the one screaming, is his father?" Draco asked.

"That would make sense, wouldn't it?" Hermione replied. "Old families have a tendency to reuse the same names." As she spoke they were flung from the memory into another.

…

They arrived in the kitchen. It looked so similar to how it looked, when Hermione was there, that she half expected her friends to come through the door. She looked around and saw Mrs Potts, but she was much younger than the woman, Hermione had met.

Mrs Potts was sitting at a table with the young Tom. She was cleaning cuts he had on his hands and arms, when a man ran into the Kitchen.

"Tom, hide," the man yelled. "He is coming."

Tom jumped promptly from the chair and ran for the door to the storage room. He had just made it out of sight as the door to the kitchen was thrown open. An elderly man walking with a cane, entered the kitchen.

"Where's the boy," the man hissed angrily. "He needs a whooping for the trouble he causes my son."

"Sir Thomas," Mrs Potts said calmly. "Your grandson is not in here."

The old man looked around the kitchen, not believing her, but he did not find the little freak he was hunting for. He turned to Mrs Potts instead, "if I find you are hiding him I'll fire the lot of you!" he spat before he left the kitchen.

Mrs Potts turned to the man who had warned them. "I don't know how to protect Tom from them."

"We have to do our best for the boy. He is innocent in all of this, Poppy, " the man said.

"You are right, Frank. Sometimes I wish we could just leave the castle and bring Tom with us. His family would not miss him! "

Hermione wondered why it seemed like Tom's family hated him so much, while the servants wanted to protect him no matter the cost. Was this the reason, why he was protecting the servants so well even now?

…

They found themselves in what looked to be a bedroom. On the bed lay a figure and a woman sat on the edge of the bed. Hermione and Draco moved closer, and recognised the horizontal figure as Tom, but the woman was unknown to them. In this memory, Tom was older and taller than before, but he was still the handsome boy and not the monster.

"Tom," the woman whispered caressing his cheeks. "Your father didn't mean it."

"That man only wants to see our pain," Tom yelled .

"No, you are mistaken," the woman tried to reason. "We are his family. He loves us."

"Mother, you are blind. He does not care for us at all. If he could he would have gotten rid of us a long time ago. One day he's going to kill us."

This close Hermione and Draco were able to see the many bruises and cuts covering Tom's face, neck, and arms.

"He's badly hurt," Hermione whispered exchanging a concerned glance with Draco. "Do you think the father beats them?"

"It's starting to look like it," Draco replied as they were flung into a new memory.

…

Tom was walking along a different corridor. He was taller and his face was set in a hard expression. Hermione and Draco followed him as he poked his head into different rooms, before entering a room where a middle aged man was sitting. The man looked very similar to Tom, and she recognised him from the painting. This was Tom Senior, one of the people Tom had admitted killing.

"You hurt my mother," Tom said to the man.

"What of it," his father replied without remorse without looking at the boy. "She had it coming."

"Don't you dare hurt her again."

"I don't like where this is going," Hermione admitted looking to Draco.

"Who's going to stop me - you?" the man finally looked at the boy. "You mother is a freak who used magic to trick me. I will never stop making her pay for that. She destroyed my life and saddled me with you."

"You will not speak of my mother like that," Tom yelled.

"Again I ask; who's going to stop me?" the man smiled.

Instead of replying the boy jumped at the man catching him off guard. They punched and kicked each other. The man fell to the floor and the boy jumped on him and put his hands around his neck strangling him. From where Hermione was standing, looking on in complete shock, she could see the boy's eyes were full of hate. Hermione knew then and there that the boy would kill the older man, but suddenly, the mother rushed into the room and tried to push her son away. She was covered in bruises on her face and had a black eye.

"What the hell happened in this family?" Draco asked looking to Hermione.

"Tom, stop it!" the mother screamed trying to push him away from his father. As the boy turned his head to his mother his eyes softened and his grip loosened on the man, who then used the opportunity to punch the boy in the face sending him flying over the floor. The man got up and pushed the woman out of his way forcefully enough to make her hit the wall. The man looked down at the boy.

"Son of a bitch," he hissed before he kicked him repeatedly.

"Tom admitted to killing his father and grandparents," Hermione replied looking to Draco.

"Tom, please," the mother begged. "He's your son."

"He's not my son," the man spat but he stopped kicking the boy, who lay motionless on the floor. "He is your bastard!"

"I'm starting to see why he would do that," Draco said calmly. "The father is crazy."

…

In the next memory they found themselves in their village; it looked very different, but some houses were the same. They saw Tom walking by and quickly they followed him as he headed towards the inn.

"Tom!" a boy called drawing their attention. He had been hiding in the shadows of the inn as if he was just waiting for Tom to arrive. When he walked into the light, they saw he looked to be about the same age as Tom but taller.

"Hey, he kinda looks like you," Hermione said looking at Draco. The boy had the same white-blond hair and pale skin.

"Abraxas," Tom replied with a smile, "why are you out here?"

Draco tensed as he looked at the white-haired boy.

"Do you know him?" Hermione asked.

"I need to tell you something," Abraxas said.

"He's my great-great, I've forgot how many great… grandfather," Draco replied.

"Can it wait? I'm here to see Bella," Tom replied.

"Abraxas Malfoy," Draco said. "I recognize him from the family tree…."

"It's about her," Abraxas sighed.

"What is it?"

"…but I think he lived about three or four hundred years ago," Draco continued.

"Your father is here," Abraxas said, "and he's with Bellatrix."

"Four hundred years ago?" Hermione asked surprised. "Are you sure?"

"More or less," Draco admitted.

"No, he can't be. He would not be interested in a tavern maid," Tom said sure of himself, "and Bella loves me. She would never…"

"Your father knows you love her!" Abraxas interposed, "We both know he would do anything to hurt you." Tom's expression turned hard.

…

They were back in the castle again. It was a bedroom, but a smaller one than they were in before. They recognised Tom sitting on the bed and a man lying down.

"I'm sorry, young master," the man whispered.

"It's not your fault, Frank. I could never blame you," Tom replied holding the man's hands. "My father realised you knew my secrets and beat you until you told him about Bella. Had you resisted more he would have killed you."

"Oh, Tom," Hermione whispered trying to put her hand on Tom's shoulder.

"I gave your secrets away," the man whispered. "I was too weak."

"You are not weak. I know how hard my father's punches are," Tom replied. "I don't blame you."

"I broke your trust. " the man cried as tears ran down his cheeks.

"Hush now, Frank. I trust you with my life," Tom replied. "You and Poppy have been more like parents to me than my own family."

…

They were still in the castle, but the room was one she had never seen before. Screams and shouts as well as the sounds of punches could be heard. As Hermione looked around she saw Tom and his father fighting each other on the ground. It looked like the father had the upper hand since he was bigger and could hit harder. Tom was on the floor and he was bleeding.

"You hurt Frank!" Tom shouted not giving up rising to his feet.

"He deserved what he got!" his father shouted back.

"He didn't deserve that," he angrily yelled trying to kick his father.

Next time I kill him," the older man cried with a menacing smile.

"I'll kill you." Tom shouted and took a swing at his father, who easily ducked and hit Tom on the jaw knocking him down.

"Threats! It's all you can do. You don't have what it takes! You are weak," his father screamed picking up the fireplace poker raising it above his head ready to swing it down and strike his son, but before he could do it Tom moved out of the way and got to his feet.

"Don't you dare hurt him or anyone again," Tom yelled in anger. The door swung shot, the curtains swayed, and the windows rattled by a strange magical wind. "Don't you dare lay a finger on any of us ever again!" He raised his hands and the wind intensified. Then he swung his arms and the wind seemed to erupt into a storm that sent his father flying. He hit the wall in the other end of the room with such force that Hermione and Draco wondered if he had died.

Tom looked at his father with nothing but contempt on his face, but slowly his hard features changed to concern and he moved over to the body and poked it with his boots. The man didn't stir.

"Is he finally dead?" Draco asked.

Hermione looked on in horrified fascination.

"What did you do!" an elderly woman screamed from the door.

"I didn't do anything!" Tom yelled back.

"You hurt my son!" the woman screamed back and rushed over to the still unmoving body. She kneeled down next to him and tried to wake him, but he only groaned.

"He's not dead yet apparently," Draco said feeling disappointed.

…

They found themselves back in the kitchen, where they saw Tom hugging Mrs Potts close. They were both crying freely and leaning on each other.

"I feel like we are intruding," Draco said looking at Hermione and she nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Tom whispered. "It's my fault Frank is dead."

"… not your fault…," Mrs Potts cried into his shoulder.

"My father and grandfather killed him because of me," Tom admitted

"My husband knew what he was doing," Mrs Potts cried. "He loved you so much."

"I loved him too. He was the father I wished I had," Tom cried.

…

This time they found themselves in a sitting room. The furniture was broken and thrown about the room. In the middle stood Tom, tall but hunched over. Blood was running from a cut on his forehead, but he didn't seem to notice. As Hermione walked closer, she could see his eyes were glued to his father, who stood close to the window. Both men looked at the other with eyes full of hatred.

"You will never hurt anyone again," Tom spat.

"You don't have the guts, boy!" his father screamed.

In reply Tom raised his wand and pointed it straight at the older man. "Avada kedavra," he yelled, rage burning through him, and green light erupted from the wand and hit his father in the chest.

Tom Senior fell to the ground unmoving.

"The killing curse," Draco muttered in surprise. "The father's not getting up any more."

Tom stood motionless and just looked at his father's body. He didn't seem to notice when the door behind him opened and his mother rushed in. She looked at Tom, but couldn't see the body of the elder Tom in front of her son. Instead her eyes were caught by something to the left of her son and she slowly walked over to take a closer look.

Hermione looked at what had caught the mother's attention, and saw two bodies there. It was the elderly couple, whom Hermione had guessed to be Tom's grandparents. They looked to be dead.

This was the night Tom had killed his grandparents and his father!

From her new vantage point the mother could see around Tom and saw the body. With a cry she rushed over and fell to the ground besides him. She checked his pulse and caressed his forehead tenderly.

"You've killed him!" she screamed turning on her son. Tom was standing as if he was frozen to the spot. "How could you do such a heinous act?"

"He was a monster," Tom said quite calmly. "He hurt everyone around him."

"I love him!"

"I don't care!" Tom yelled back in anger. "Your love could not change his monstrous personality!"

"You don't know love."

"That man didn't know how to love."

"You are the monster!" his mother yelled back. "I can never forgive you!"

"I don't need your forgiveness."

"I curse you," she screamed loudly. She rose to her feet and the eyes that looked at her son were half crazy with grief. "You are a heartless monster and I punish you. I curse you!" She whispered a few words that Hermione could not hear and sent a blue ball of energy straight at her son, who did not defend himself. The ball connected with Tom and sent him flying backwards, but where he had been standing just a moment before an object was floating in mid-air as if held up by invisible strings.

The object was a heart and as Tom's mother moved her hands the heart flew towards her. She made to catch it but it flew past her and crashed through the window behind her. It landed on the ground somewhere outside the castle.

"The monster is heartless! And all those who live here shall suffer with him!" she screamed and laughed before she ran from the room.

"She's definitely crazy," Draco acknowledged and Hermione agreed, "but she also definitely cursed him."

"She cast the curse?" Hermione asked surprised. "Why would any mother do that to her child?"

"What happened to the mother?" Draco urged.

"She killed herself."

"If she killed herself on this night, she could very well have bound the castle in a dark enchantment," Draco informed her.

"How so?"

"Blood magic," Draco said. "When she said 'all those who live here will suffer with him' she could very well have invoked an enchantment to be linked to the curse."

They turned to look at Tom, who had not risen from the ground. When they looked at him his appearance was slowly changing. His skin paled more and more until it was completely white, his face changed to look almost like a skull. His body seemed to lose all fat and muscles as the skin resettled over his bones and gave him skeleton features.

…

Once they entered the next memory, they found themselves in the library. It was a place Hermione had been many times, but Draco had never been there before, so he looked around in wonder. They watched as Tom, now looking completely like the monster, walked over to the shelves. He placed back the book he was holding and picked another. He opened it where he was and looked through it. Draco bent down and looked at the cover.

"Protective Potions," he read. "What does…"

"Argh! " suddenly Tom let out an inhumane yell and clutched at where his heart should be. He stood like that for a few moments, while his face became even paler than normal. Taking a few deep breaths he rose to his full height and his expression was hard. "If that girl destroyed the tree…," he hissed while the library suddenly disappeared to be exchanged with the garden.

"Magical travel," Hermione explained to Draco, but he looked at her strangely.

"Apparition," he corrected smugly.

"Is that what it is called?"

"Hey, isn't that you?" Draco pointed and she looked in the direction. They saw memory-Hermione standing near a rose tree and Tom angrily walking towards her.

"I remember this," Hermione said sadly. "Oh no, it's pretty bad."

"There must be a reason he wants you to see this memory," Draco said grabbing her wrist and dragging her closer.

"What the hell are you doing?" they heard Tom yell as he grabbed memory-Hermione and yanked her away from the tree. "What is it with you and your father to cut and destroy my rose tree?"

"I…," memory-Hermione looked shocked and terrified.

"Get away," he barked and pushed memory-Hermione out of his way. Tom slowly ran his hand along the bark. Draco and Hermione watched as memory-Hermione fled towards the castle, and when she was out of sight Tom once again clutched at his heart and took a deep breath. "The blackness is spreading too fast now," he whispered touching the part where memory-Hermione had forced the knife in. "Damn the girl for her curiosity! Is she deliberately trying to kill me?" he spat angrily.

"Is the rose tree connected to his life somehow?" Hermione looked at Draco with shock written all over her features. "The rose tree is dying!"

"I don't know," Draco admitted, "but it does seem like it."

Before they could discuss it more the scene changed.

…

Hermione smiled as she saw where they were. This was her favourite place in the castle; the laboratory. They saw memory-Hermione run from the room.

"Damn it ," Tom cursed hitting the table surface with force.

Draco looked at her in confusion and she clarified, "this is when he let me go."

Suddenly Tom looked up with a gleam in his eyes. "Hermione ," he sighed and his eyes were looking straight at her.

"Yes?" she tried not understanding how Tom knew she was there.

"… if you can hear me now then you found a way to watch the memories. I don't have much time to explain , I've been tricking you so that you would not ask questions about the curse. If you asked I would answer and it would all become real. These past few weeks I have been pretending it was not true." He sighed deeply, before continuing. "I am dying. Soon I will be dead and when I die the castle will be without a protector. That is why we made all the potions and the protective ward to secure my servants. They are not from this time and will not have a home to go to. The castle is their home, and it will stand tall for them as a safe haven. In time the forest will bury the castle even more deeply than it is now. Hopefully no one will ever realize where it is, so I ask that you destroy these memories when you have seen them. Let no trace of us be, please."

"No, you can't die!" Hermione cried as she ran around the table to him. As she moved closer to him she saw his eyes did not follow her and she realized he was not seeing her but speaking out loud in a hope that she would see his memory of it.

"My memories should make the curse and my past clear to you. I hope you can one day forgive me for the pain I caused you and your father, " Tom grabbed a vial from a cupboard and she recognized it as the vial that held his memories.

"Tom…," she whispered not sure what to say.

"He can't hear you," Draco said quietly.

"It was a pleasure to know you – you truly are remarkable. I wish we could have met under better circumstances. Though I never deserved your kindness or your friendship, I will never forget all you did for me and my friends," his voice sounded strained by emotions.

"I will find you again," she whispered as the tears ran freely from her eyes.

"Goodbye, Hermione. "

Draco didn't say anything as he watched them. He wondered if they had realised they loved each other. He might not know any of them, but both their eyes shone when they thought of the other.

As the memory ended Hermione and Draco found themselves back at the Malfoy home.