Chapter 7 – Memory
I sit alone.
It's the first time since I came to this mysterious place, apparently in my mind. Malfoy has always been there. But now, I am alone.
And I feel. . .
Empty.
Lost.
Terrified that I could slip once more into a memory and not be able to get myself out.
But he left and I don't know where he went.
I didn't even know he could leave.
Can I leave?
Is it that simple?
And once again I feel the sharp stab of loneliness piercing through my bones.
All around me is vast distance that I don't know how to cross.
I yearn to cross it.
I'm confused, afraid, angry at this place in my head, at myself.
I realize now that Malfoy, the boy who hated me, who made me feel like I could never be good enough to belong in his world, the one who made me doubt everything about myself, that boy; he makes me feel safe.
Made.
He made me feel safe.
But he's gone.
He was so angry that I saw what I did.
I didn't mean to.
Maybe I should have found a way to leave as soon as I felt the pull, felt the sensation of being unwanted there, of anger, of shame. I should have left.
Now I know.
I know Harry was right about what was going on that year, but he was terribly wrong about why. He couldn't have possibly understood how Malfoy could do the things he did, but I can. I've done some terrible things myself to protect the people I love.
But now I sit, alone, on the shore, letting fistfuls of sand slowly slip through my fingers.
There are two sides of every story, and the terror we faced during the war was matched by those on the other.
It's something we never considered before. But it means so much.
Stuck.
That's what we were; what we all were.
Stuck in our positions, the roles into which we were born, never given a choice, the option to decide for ourselves what we believed. It was pushed upon us by fate.
Cruel fate.
"Cruel fate indeed."
Malfoy.
I turn to him as he moves to sit beside me.
"You came back," I note.
For some reason, I'm relieved.
So relieved.
He came back.
I'm not alone.
I'm not lost, alone, in a world inside my thoughts.
Somehow, I feel full again.
And that scares me.
It scares me how much I want him to stay, how worried I am that he will leave again.
He nods. "I don't like where I am out there."
"Where are you?" I ask. "Out there?"
"Did you remember anything else?" he inquires.
"No," I reply. He didn't answer my question. Why doesn't he want to tell me?
"Pity."
He wants me to remember. He needs me to remember.
But remember what?
That room flashes in my mind. The one filled with darkness, with utter terror.
"You said . . ." I start. "You said that . . . place . . . it was a memory."
Malfoy nods again.
"But I don't think I've ever been there," I tell him.
"I assure you, you have," he says.
Silence.
"What's your job?" he asks, quite suddenly. Is he trying to help me remember something? "After the war, in the past year or so, what do you do?"
I think about it.
Time.
It seems like a long forgotten concept.
The war.
How long has it been since the war?
Two years? Three?
I remember the ministry.
Court rooms. Wizard court rooms.
Something to do with Harry and Ron.
They're aurors so . . .
And it hits me.
"I work in the department of magical law enforcement in the ministry," I tell him, surprising myself. "It's strange, because I never wanted to go into law." I still don't fully understand why he asked the question.
"Funny how things change," he says, but doesn't go on.
Why did he want me to remember that?
Does my job in the ministry have something to do with what happened to me?
I stare out at the water, trying to remember what we were working on.
Death Eaters.
The ones who escaped after the war ended.
Though I can't seem to recall how it all connects.
But I know it's important, that somehow, it does indeed relate.
"I have to go back don't I," I state. "Back to the memory."
"Yes," he replies.
"I really don't want to," I admit.
"There are a lot of things in life that we don't want to do, that are frightening, but we have to do them anyway," he tells me.
"Will you be there?" I find myself asking.
"I will. Promise," Malfoy assures.
"Alright then," I say, determined to face this.
The walls are built around us, the world darkens, and those dreaded stairs return.
Where's Malfoy? I can't see him.
The fear is back, gripping me like a noose around my neck, threatening to take the floor from beneath me.
Pain.
Everything hurts.
Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt so badly? I fall to the floor. Every inch of my body is on fire with an ache that reaches down to my very bones.
And the terror is filling me once again as I hear the footsteps, the door creaking open, and the slow descent.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
The stair creaks.
This time, I don't change the scene. I have to stay. I have to remember what happened.
"Lumos."
I recognize the voice. I would remember it anywhere.
The wand lights and I see her face.
Bellatrix Lestrange herself.
But how is this possible? She was killed.
Here she is, standing in front of me with a sadistic grin on her face.
Malfoy said he would be here with me. He promised I wouldn't be alone.
But something catches my eye in the corner of the room.
Someone else is here.
Malfoy.
He's bleeding and bruised and in pain. He's here with me. Is this how we are connected?
He can't help me; he can't help us.
My fear only makes her cackle with glee sending me farther into my panicked state.
We have to get out of here! We have to go, now!
I try to think of the beach once again and pry my mind away from the scene before me.
I try.
We need to get out of here!
Why isn't my mind responding!
I find the strength deep inside myself, find the courage to close my eyes as Bellatrix approaches, find it within me to take a deep breath and focus.
Sand.
Calming waves.
Warmth.
And once more we are on the shore.
I'm shaking.
How can this happen?
"You assured me you would be there, because you were there. You were there with me," I whisper.
Malfoy nods.
"But she was killed," I continue. "This shouldn't have happened."
"You might not know that part," he says.
"What part?"
"The part were her husband brought her back to lead the group of escaped Death Eaters," he informs me.
"How could he possibly do that?" I ask.
"I don't know exactly," he admits, "but I know it's dangerous, a lot can go wrong. Rodolphus was looking into some ancient dark magic. Something about recreating the body and attracting the soul to possess it."
"That's horrifying." I'm astounded that he would even try something like that.
Malfoy nods his agreement.
"But, why us? Were there others? What did they want?" I question.
"You learned something you weren't supposed to, and me, well, I defected. She wasn't too happy about that," Malfoy explains.
Yes, I remember the trial now. It was all over the news. Harry and especially Ron weren't having any of it, even after what he did in the final battle. He was still a Death Eater and anyone affiliated with them deserved to be punished. They were pretty upset when he came out with only mandatory magical probation.
"So, it's all true then," I say quietly.
"Of course, it is." He seems hurt.
"You can't blame us for being suspicious," I tell him. "But I do admit, we didn't really care to hear more. And," I pause, "I am sorry about that."
A silence settles between us. It's peaceful; such a contrast from the previous scene.
"Am I dead?" I ask cautiously.
"No. Not yet."
I don't know whether to be relieved or frightened by the revelation. What does that mean?
"Do you remember anything else?" he asks.
Pain. There was a lot of pain.
"She tortured us, didn't she." It was more of a statement than a question.
He nods, not adding anything else.
But there is something more; something that he is both sad and relieved that I can't quite yet remember. It's something involving him.
And me.
And what happened to us at the bottom of those stairs.
Then it clicks.
He saved my life.
Author's Note:
Hello my beautiful readers!
This week was a little better than last week, yay! I hope you all had at least a decent one as well.
What do you think about the revelations in this chapter? Revelations like Bellatrix, the possibility of a connection to her job, Harry and Ron, the fact that Malfoy saved her life?
Also, I feel like the transitions are a bit fast and . . . just off. I'm not sure if it's just me, but I've tried and I don't know how to fix it. If you have any thoughts about that as well, let me know!
Thank-you so much those of you who reviewed. You always make my day when I see a notification. Even a little note to say you enjoyed it means so much.
I hope you guys have a lovely week and I'll see you next Sunday!
