Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter Characters. Bless J.K. Rowling for making our lives better.
The first memory unfolded as soon as Hermione landed. Bedposts and other pieces of furniture appeared out of thin air, the room evidently eligent and well looked after. The four poster bed was made out of dark wood, carved precisely with serpent snaking their way around each of the posts. The bed was placed in the middle of the room, bedside cabinets flanking each side. A set of patio doors to the beds left leading onto a balcony, the door slightly ajar, voices floating through the door with the breeze. On one of the chests of drawers stood a mirror, boxes of jewels placed neatly next to it. This room belonged to someone important. Someone with wealth.
"This is my parents bedroom." The voice made Hermione jump, but she did not turn around. "I am hidden under the bed. I was seven at the time. Listen to what my parents are saying out on the balcony."
Hermione strained her ears to try and hear what was being said, but only whispers could be heard. Hesitantly, she stepped closer to the open doors wondering if she was making a mistake. But her curiosity had spiked. What exactly did Malfoy want to show her that would show he was a reformed person?
"...Lucius, it makes no sense. Melinda and Corvus were with her all day." Hermione did not need to be told who the voice belonged to. Not only had Draco just told her that his parents were on the balcony, but Narcissa Malfoy's voice was not hard to forget. Only within the last year had her voice become so recognisable, but once Hermione knew a voice, it was hard for it to be erased, regardless of the circumstances that made the voice be imprinted into her brain.
"The girl was taken whilst they slept, but how the wards around the Warwick's home did not detect an intruder is truly worrying." Lucius Malfoy's voice was cold and sharp, but the tiny hint of worry in his tone made Hermione remember that he was a human being and not just someone who had killed in the past without a second thought.
"She is the same age as Draco. She would have been eight near the end of the month. Why take a child at this age when they can remember everything, not at a younger age?" There was a slight pause before a gasp was heard. "Lucius, what if-"
"Definitely not Narcissa. Stop being so foolish. How would that have been possible? He is dead!" A had slammed against the metal railings on the balcony, a squeak of surprise coming from Draco's Mother. "And the girl will not remember anything. We are of Pure Magical Blood Narcissa, as is the girl. She would have had a Memory Charm placed on her, and a strong one." There was another lapse of silence, the wind in the trees all that could be heard.
Questions filled Hermione's head. Who was the little girl they were talking about? Why was this little girl taken? Was the little girl alive? Why was Malfoy even showing her this memory? Hermione turned to ask Draco, but he shook his head and placed a finger against his mouth as an indication to stay quiet. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. It was not like they could be heard by the people in the memory, so why stay quiet? All that would happen was that question after question would come spewing out of Hermione's mouth the moment they landed back in Professor Snape's office.
"The Warwick's have another daughter, Cassiopeia. Why not her instead of their eldest? And surely one of their House Elves would have been with the girls all night. It is unlike the Warwick's to leave either of their girls alone for one second without them being watched. Especially as their eldest is showing her first signs of Magic. Apparently out of anger she made a whole bookshelf collapse onto one of their House Elves because she was not allowed some of the treacle tart that was made for them a few weeks ago." Hermione raised her eyebrows. Showing signs of Magic at the age of seven is unheard of. Most children with Magical blood show signs at the age of ten, a year before they were set to go off to Hogwarts or their school of choice. However, Pure Blood children did tend to show signs at the age of nine instead of ten, but seven? Extremely rare.
Hermione remembered her first time of showing Magic, not understanding what it was. Her parents had taken her to Central London for the day for her tenth birthday and after begging and pleading for what must have been hours, her parents finally allowed her to go to Waterstones in Piccadilly Circus. She was so excited that as she ran up the stairs to from the ground floor to get to the third floor where the children's books were located, she suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs on the third floor without actually running up the stairs. She was so confused as to what had happened she began to cry, getting extremely odd looks from the other customers as well as a very big telling off from her parents for running off.
"Dobby!" Hermione snapped back to the memory, realising she had missed some of the conversation that Malfoy had chosen to show her. Hopefully she had not missed anything important. A pop and a whimper could be heard, along with an unintelligible mumble that Hermione could not understand as it was so quiet. "You will stay with Draco every night along with any other orders you are given. Understood?" Another mumble, this time longer, followed by a squeal of hurt and surprise. "Do not question me you imbecile!" A 'thwack' could be heard, this time louder, which Hermione guessed was Lucius Malfoy using his cane to hit poor Dobby around the head. A louder squeal than the first followed. "Get back to the kitchen and be sure to punish yourself for questioning your Master!" A pop was heard. "That Elf needs to be punished more Narcissa, it is becoming-" Hermione ignored what was being said and turned to face Draco, ready to unleash some unkind words and tell him about Elf Rights and S.P.E.W but the memory was already beginning to fade, blackness enclosing itself around her.
Blackness. Hermione blinked and rubbed her eyes but it stayed dark. She was sure she was in another Memory because she could hear someone shouting Draco's name from afar, so he must have been hiding. She felt another person's presence with her and could only assume it was Malfoy's by the way the person was standing. She never realised how tall he was until he was stood right next to her like this. A warm, strong muscular arm was against hers as she leaned back hesitantly and found there was a solid wall behind them.
"Draco Malfoy, where are you? You show yourself right now young man before your punishment becomes more than no dessert!" Lucius Malfoy's voice was louder and angrier than before and extremely close. She was hiding in a cupboard along with both Draco's. Hermione chuckled. How original. Both Draco's remained silent.
"Have you still not found him?" Narcissa's voice was full of worry. Hermione wondered how old memory Draco was. Surely in a mansion the size of Malfoy Manor he went 'missing' all the time.
"He has been home from his first term at Hogwarts for two days and he has yet to show me any respect. Do they not teach the brats anything anymore? I told you we should have sent him to Durmstrang." Eleven. Memory Draco was eleven. Four years had passed since the other memory of the missing girl.
"Lucius, the boy has not seen us in person for over twelve weeks. Of course he is going to be talkative and excited to be home. Even you are more talkative than normal after spending the evening with Crabbe and Goyle Senior. Let the boy calm down. He will be on his best behaviour for the ball on Christmas Eve. The Parkinson's will be there, as well as the Greengrass's. You can start discussing the contracts then. It will please both families to be in the running for the contract. I'm sure if the eldest Warwick child was to be alive we would have discussed her as well."
Lucius Malfoy let out a breath, along with a sigh. "You are right. I'm sure Draco would have been in competition with the Warwick child as well as the Mudblood Granger that he keeps complaining about. I have told him time and time again that he needs to get higher scores than her! It is Granger this and Granger that all the time. Is our Son incapable of talking about anything else Narcissa?" Mrs Malfoy let out a low chuckle before abruptly stopping.
"You know very well that he is capable of talking about other subjects Lucius. Quidditch for one, potions as well as politics. Was that not what were you discussing on the morning of his departure for Hogwarts? I'm sure Severus has also drilled more potions talk into his brain on top of what he is meant to learn in class. Just because you do not like the Granger girl does not mean that Draco is incapable of talking about anything else. It is all you chose to hear when you talk to him."
Hermione was stunned. She had no idea that Malfoy even mentioned her to his parents before the end of their first year when she, Ron and Harry had defeated Voldemort for the first time and discovered that he was still 'alive', if you could call it that. As best as Hermione could remember, she had beaten Malfoy at every test given to them and every homework assignment within the term bar two; their first ever Potions essay and their second Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. She had still been second in their year for those essays, but she had come second to Draco Malfoy. A the time, it had made Hermione very depressed and she had begged both Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell to let her re-do the assigned essay, but she was told no by both teachers. Well, answers that equalled no when you took out all the insults from Professor Snape's answer, and the stutters from Professor Quirrell's.
"Yes, Granger is Muggle-born," Narcissa continued, "but you have to remember, one of my closest friends is a Muggle." Hermione gasped, turning to look at Draco in the darkness of the cupboard they were hidden in. She went to open her mouth to ask whether Naricissa was aware that her son knew of her friend now, but was stopped. "Emmeline Bridgewater is a remarkable woman and has shaped quite a bit of the Muggle community in rural Herefordshire. You do not have to like her, or the fact that she is a Muggle, but you cannot stop me from seeing her Lucius. Just like you cannot stop Draco from complaining about her to you. Support our Son in his decisions, not override his ambitions by telling him what to do."
As the memory began to fade, and she felt the pull of herself floating back to reality, Hermione knew why that memory was so important. Hermione had heard of the death of Emmeline Bridgewater the next summer, the dark mark found floating over her house in the Herefordshire town of Weobley. Lucius Malfoy had gone against Narcissa's words and advice, not only being apart of the corporation that killed one of her closest friends, but controlled Draco down to the last moment of the war, just before it was too late.