AN: first this time around. I have changed a few minor details in the first chapter because I couldn't really see it the way I wrote it. Only concerning Hermione's time at the Manor though (nothing has changed about the torture or Narcissa taking away her pain and her wound). You do not have to read it again but check it out if something in the later parts of this chapter doesn't make sense to you. (If you read Chapter 1 after February the 9th, 2017, go ahead and ignore everything of the above).
So, enough of this and on with the story. This chapter is probably the longest I've ever written and I'd love some feedback if you find the time. Also, I believe some of you have been looking forward to this one!
The two witches stood in front of one of the town's buildings, both of them looking at a brass sign that read 'Dentistry. W. & M. Wilkins'.
"What are their actual names?"
"Mhm?"
"Your parents."
"Diane. Diane and William Granger," Hermione replied, finally tearing her eyes away from the sign, from the visible proof of what she'd done.
"So what do you intend to do? If I may ask. You said you are here to take them back to England. But what about their memories? Do you intend to restore them?"
The girl nodded. "I do. I know the spell is not easily reversed but I have to try, don't I?"
"It is not as difficult as most books and the Ministry would like us to think," said Narcissa, her voice adopting a slightly haughty tone, and a small smile appearing on her lips as she saw that she'd drawn the girl's interest. "At least if one has good intentions in mind and does not wish to gain access to the lost memories for their own profit. Of course, it is still a rather complicated spell and requires a certain level of skill and power from its caster. – Do you know which spell to use? Do you know the proper wand movements?"
Hermione shook her head, suddenly feeling embarrassed at her lack of preparation, her naivety. She'd leaved through countless books, searching for a spell to reverse the Obliviate, only to draw up a blank. "How-"
"How do I know?" Narcissa knew the question that must be burning on the tip of the girl's tongue. "Belonging to one of the eldest remaining wizarding families does not solely revolve around the matter of blood purity," the sarcasm and bitterness in her voice was easily to discern. "We still remember spells that have been widely forgotten – some of which should also remain that way. Cygnus taught us much of what he knew, handing down the knowledge of the generations before... Tell me, how were you going to restore your parents' memories?"
"I was going to try Legilimency if everything else failed," Hermione felt dumb only uttering her 'plan'. "I was going to look for uhm.. barricades… and try to break them down."
The blonde witch pursed her lips in thought. "Well, it is not a terribly stupid idea. Yet I think you'd fare better if I taught you the spell. As of right now, you are a mere stranger to your parents. I highly doubt they'd just let you enter their minds willingly, Muggles or not. You could quite possibly do more damage than good."
"You'll teach me?"
"That is what I just said, isn't it?"
Half an hour later, the two witches found themselves sitting on opposite sides of a spacious double bed. They'd found and checked into the town's only hotel, agreeing that they would need a room, a private space where Narcissa could teach Hermione the required spell.
As of right now, both of them were still dealing with the onslaught of thoughts and feelings the hotel clerk at the check-in desk had awoken.
Ten minutes earlier
"We would like a room, please," Hermione confidently strode up to the older man sitting behind the check-in desk, placing her ID on the counter.
The hotel clerk put a pair of reading glasses atop of his wrinkled nose and closely studied the ID card.
"Ah, welcome to the 'Albatross Inn', Mrs. Granger," he brightly smiled at her and her silent companion, already turning towards the room keys hanging on the wall behind him.
"It's Miss actually, Ms. Granger," Hermione corrected him, giving him a warm smile of her own. The man reminded her a little of her deceased grandfather.
"Oh, I am sorry, I thought the two of you were married," the old Muggle glanced at Narcissa, his eyes filled with appreciation. "You should seal the deal before she finds someone else," he conspiratorially winked at the young woman, smirking at the deep blush that had risen on her cheeks. "Such a woman doesn't walk around the corner every day." He chuckled. "I would know. Asked for the hand of my Martha after our first date. I knew I wanted this one and no one else the moment I'd first laid eyes on her… Not every woman looks pretty in pink."
Hermione politely nodded at the man, hoping against hope he would get going and finally hand her a key.
Surprisingly, Narcissa came to the 'rescue'.
"My dear... Mr. Roy," she leaned over the counter with a dazzling smile, reading his name tag. "My fiancée and I arrived from Europe only a few hours ago and we are very tired after the long flight. Would you.."
"O-Of course, my lady," the clerk stumbled over his words, rushing to push a key into the blonde's delicate hands, almost tripping over his own feet in his hurry to fulfill her every wish. "Here you go, dear. Would you like for a light lunch to be sent up as well?"
"That would be wonderful, Sir."
"So."
"So."
"Should we wait until after lunch arrives or would you like to start right away?"
"I suppose we should wait."
"Mhm-hm."
"Why did you say we were engaged?" Hermione wanted to know, turning around on the bed as Narcissa did the same.
"It was what he wanted to see," said the blonde without batting an eye. "Oftentimes it is easier to just let people believe what they already assume to be the truth."
The Gryffindor fell silent, contemplating the older witch's response. If that was really the way she saw and handled things, could it be… Could it be that the cold, dutiful Pureblood wife had only been an act as well? That she'd merely been catering to people's beliefs?
Because surely, the Narcissa Malfoy she'd assumed to know wouldn't give a damn about her parents or whether they remembered her or not? Surely she wouldn't bother to try and comfort her about her decision?
"So how do I know if I am dealing with the 'real you'?" Hermione asked the question that she really wanted and needed the answer to.
Narcissa secretively smiled at that. "You will know."
NDHNDHNDHNDHNDHNDHNDH
A while later – they'd eaten their lunch in what would probably count as a companionable silence – the two set to work.
Narcissa was watching as the girl practiced the pronunciation and wand movements of the spell.
Hermione's intonation was just fine but she was obviously having a hard time getting the complicated loops and figures right. As it was now, the spell would probably sooner change her parents' hair color to green than recover their memories.
"May I?" Narcissa asked and, not bothering to wait for an answer, stepped closely behind the young woman, covering her wand hand with her own. She took a deep breath – why did she suddenly find it hard to breathe? – and gently guided her hand through the air.
Hermione was having to deal with quite similar problems. The woman's nearness was making it difficult for her to concentrate on the matter at hand – why did she feel like all of her nerve endings were on fire? – and the scarring on her exposed forearm was distracting her…
Wait… the scarring? She couldn't remember seeing a scar earlier. Had she really payed so little attention to the other woman that she hadn't noticed the slightly reddened welts and indentations that began just above her right wrist?
Furrowing her brows, Hermione pulled the offending limb towards her, gasping as she recognized the scar for what it was.
But how…
She didn't understand.
It looked exactly like… yet.. it couldn't be, could it?
"How…"
As soon as Hermione had pulled the pale arm closer towards her face, Narcissa had felt her breath hitch and goosebumps appear on her skin. When the brunette gasped, she knew she'd failed to uphold the thin glamour. She knew she'd seen what she was never supposed to see. She tried to pull her arm back, away from the girl's sharp eyes, but found that Hermione had wrapped her hand around her wrist and was tightly holding on to it. Then, she was running a single finger over the crude lettering, Narcissa shivering from the simple touch.
"How?" the young woman asked once more, this time with more confidence, with emphasis. She turned around and her brown eyes peered intently into Narcissa's blue. "How?"… Then, "Please. I.. I need to know. Tell me?"
And Narcissa nodded, leading the girl towards the bed so they could sit down, her hand still not letting go of her arm. She knew she couldn't keep this from her any longer. She'd known as soon as she'd been bound to Hermione, known that it would only be a matter of time until she slipped up or the girl suspected something.
"The night you were brought to the Manor," she began, wondering where to start and finally settling on the beginning. "The …" she trailed off, wondering why this was so difficult. Then, an idea hit her. "Can I... would you allow me to just show you instead? You are schooled in Legilimency… I mean, you thought about using it on your parents, so-"
"I am. And if that is really how you wish to tell me?" Hermione held the blue eyes with her own, looking for any uncertainty or distrust in them. She found neither. Only regret. And guilt.
"No. I want to do this and this is the best way to show you."
"Okay," Hermione took a breath and let go of the woman's arm, raising her wand to her forehead and closing her eyes, knowing Narcissa would follow her lead. It was a huge token of her trust when someone allowed you to 'dive' into their mind. She'd never expected Narcissa Malfoy to freely offer such a thing to her of all people, to anyone really.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
"Okay, try to-"
"Relax, I know."
"Legilimens!"
Hermione fell through time and space, trying to find something to hold on to. The mind of another was always somehow like a strange and unique land, undiscovered territory, and you neither understood the language nor did you know where to go. Hermione knew this because Harry's mind had been a right mess when she'd helped him practice his barely existing Occlumency skills to shield himself from Voldemort. Of course, he'd been trying to fight her, trying his best to keep her out of his mind..
Suddenly, the falling stopped and Hermione found herself standing in a bright circular room, unsure of what to do. With Harry, the falling hadn't ended and she'd only ever been able to hold onto short pieces of memories, like ledges or cliffs.
She looked around, trying to decide which of the many doors to walk through, when her feet started to move towards one of them out of their own accord. Getting the hint, she took up walking herself and twisted the golden knob, pushing the elegant white door open. She walked through and found herself in a spacious bedroom, where the owner of the memory was currently transfiguring glittering snowflakes for a happily giggling Delphi. A warm smile was on the blonde's lips and Hermione felt the love she felt for the child sitting in front of her. When a house elf appeared in the room, its big eyes apologetic for interrupting, the woman's brows drew together in a frown.
"Winky?"
"Winky is sorry, Mistress, but there is a group of people at the gates," the elf explained, wringing its hands. "The werewolf is leading them. They say it is urgent."
"The werewolf… you mean Greyback?"
Winky nodded. "Yes, Mistress. They think they have Potter."
"Potter, you say?" the witch's frown only deepened. There was a moment of silence, then she nodded. "Winky, take Delphi to her nursery and summon Lucius. I shall deal with the guests."
Narcissa got to her feet and hurried out of the room, Hermione following after her as the room dissolved into nothingness.
'Greyback… of all people,' Hermione heard Narcissa muttering as together they ascended the stairs to the ground floor of the Manor. When she noticed that her lips weren't moving, she knew she was hearing the blonde's thoughts. 'Thinks he's got Potter.. tsk... As if Potter would get himself captured that easily.'
Yeah, well. She'd never thought they'd get caught either. Not by a horde of Snatchers. They'd been so careful... and then, one slip up by Harry – who'd used You-Know-Who's name, alerting the Ministry and Voldemort's minions to their position – and the Snatchers were right in front of them, too many of them to outrun or duel.
They'd made their way through the garden and reached the Manors gates, and through the bars, she could see the ragtag band of misfits, their clothes grimy and their teeth yellowed and rotten, Greyback's whiskers and the grey fur all over his face..
She felt the Pureblood's disgust as if it were her own as the blue eyes fell onto Greyback's face.
"You claim you have Potter?"
The woman's voice sounded cold and unfeeling, so much cooler than Hermione had ever had to witness it.
"Yeah, found 'm camping out in t'woods. Got the Mudblood, too. And one of the Weasley brood."
Hermione felt Narcissa's inner turmoil as she finally opened the gates, letting them inside.
Together with the blonde, Hermione studied the faces of the Snatchers and the captives as one after the other passed by, walking towards the Manor.
'Not sure that one's Potter… boy's face is a mess. Looks like a stinging jinx. … But the color of his eyes... I'd know this color anywhere. It must be him… Yes, definitively a Weasley that one, think it could actually be the one that's always with Potter. …..The Granger girl! So it is true what they said… bet it was her who cast the stinging jinx. Definitely wouldn't have come to the Weasley boy's mind… Merlin, how I hate these Snatcher idiots! …'
Back in the house, Lucius, Bellatrix and Draco had joined the group. The sight of the dark-haired witch made Hermione feel sick to her stomach and she had to fight hard to not break the Legilimency bond. Severing it abruptly could do severe damage to both of their minds and Hermione would really rather not risk it.
"Draco, is it Potter?" Bellatrix asked, pushing her nephew towards Harry, his face turned to the floor. "Look at him!"
"I-I don't know. I'm not sure," Draco muttered, barely even taking a peek at the other boy.
"How can you not know?" Bellatrix threw her hands into the air before clasping Draco's shoulders, hard. "Look at him!"
Hermione felt the rage bubble up inside of Narcissa and soon enough, the blonde cut in. "Leave him alone!" Her voice was sharp and unyielding, her eyes piercing into her sister's back.
"Cissy, don't you see how important this is? If we hand Potter to the Dark Lord…"
"Draco already told you he isn't sure. So leave him be."
Hermione knew what would happen next. One of the Snatchers was playing around with the Sword of Gryffindor and Bellatrix' eyes would fall onto him. She would be furious once she'd discover that the sword had been found in Hermione's bag. She'd send Narcissa off to take the boys into the dungeons.
Then, it happened. And she saw the whole thing from a new perspective. She stood next to Narcissa and watched how Bellatrix Lestrange fired Cruciatus after Cruciatus at her. She watched how her own past image writhed on the floor, how she cried and begged for help.
But when a feeling of sadness accompanied with a wave of guilt hit her like a bus, she turned to look at the woman next to her instead. On the outside, Narcissa Malfoy seemed perfectly calm and collected, cold, bored even. But as she continued to study her, she saw the minute details that gave her away. That slight twitch in her perfectly shaped eyebrows. The way her fingers clenched and unclenched.
'Stop it, Bella, please. I am begging you. When did you turn into a heartless monster? … the poor girl, same age as my Draco. I should do something. I can't just-' Narcissa's gaze flitted from Hermione and Bellatrix to her son, who stood in a corner of the room. She saw what the blonde witch saw. She saw how he moved his weight from one foot to the other, how he barely seemed to be holding it together. And she felt the endless love Narcissa felt for her child, felt the anguish over the decision that had been made 17 years ago when she'd held her baby in her arms. 'I am sorry, Ms. Hermione Granger. I wish I could do something. But I have Draco to think of… If I step in…' the woman shuddered at the thought of what would happen.
As memory Hermione's cries quietened down and she still hadn't revealed anything to the deranged witch, the death eater changed her tactic.
Hermione saw how Bellatrix pulled the small knife, felt Narcissa tense next to her as she recognized it for what it was and what purpose it was about to fulfill.
'No… She can't be..'
"I am going to brand you for what you are. Mudblood," Bellatrix cackled and Hermione felt the determination that one could now clearly see in Narcissa's eyes if one was only looking for it. And she felt the tingle of strong magic in her fingers as if she were the one about to do magic.
"Dolorulcus transmissimo," the blonde whispered and not a moment after, the pain started. Hermione was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pain she felt. Tears started streaming down her face as she felt cut after cut, felt how the flesh of her arm was torn apart by the cursed blade. Only this time around, the pain wasn't actually her own. She wasn't really hurting. But Narcissa was and she could feel just how much her sister was hurting her, hurting them both.
'I couldn't help you earlier… But I am helping you now. I wish I could tell you that the cuts on your arm will fade away in a few days time. I wish you wouldn't have to worry about it. I wish… I wish I could've done more.'
Hermione was deeply touched by the woman's thoughts and actions. She kept her eyes trained on the woman next to her as her own pained cries continued to echo off the walls. How could she remain so calm? How did she not buckle over in pain, how did she keep a straight face?
She kept watching Narcissa only for the rest of the memory, finding the woman to be more interesting than Dobby's appearance or the fight that broke out as soon as Harry and Ron stormed into the room. She didn't need to see anything else. She stayed in the woman's mind even after Dobby had apparated them away to the shell cottage, witnessed through her eyes how Lucius and Bellatrix started to bicker, how she excused herself from the scene, claiming to wanting to check on Delphi. She witnessed how Narcissa bandaged up her arm and pulled back down the sleeve of her dress. She felt her worry, her fear of the Dark Lord's wrath once he would learn of Harry's getaway… She-
"That should be quite enough," Narcissa quietly stated, having pushed Hermione out of her mind without her even noticing. It took a very skilled Occlumens to 'evict' someone from their mind in such a pleasant way and Hermione briefly wondered if there was anything Narcissa Malfoy wasn't good at.
"Why didn't you tell anyone? The aurors? Shacklebolt?" It was the first question that came to Hermione's mind and it seemed logical to ask. "Surely they would've considered-"
"Letting me run free? I highly doubt it," Narcissa raised a brow. "Of course it would have probably helped my case – still would, actually – but I didn't want to take this away from you as well. It was bad enough that you'd been taken and that my sister tortured you in the worst possible ways. I wasn't going to let everyone know what exactly had happened that night without the certainty that you'd already told people. And… well. I did one good deed. I don't expect to be praised or rewarded for what I did."
Hermione nodded at the answer, understanding where the older witch was coming from. Still, she'd never have expected this of Draco Malfoy's mother. Would've never expected her to do anything of what she'd just witnessed.
Hesitantly, she reached once more for the woman's arm, needing to touch the proof of what she'd just learned. And as her fingers ghosted over the scarring, a few tears fell from her eyes and onto the blonde's pale skin. Looking up, she found that the woman had tears in her eyes as well.
They sat there for a long while, just staring at one another as Hermione's fingers stroked over the sensitive skin in a rhythm that only she knew.
"So, this spell you used? Is it one of those old forgotten spells I won't find in any book if I don't visit the bookstore in Knockturn Alley? What exactly can it be used for? Will you-"
"Will I teach you? No, I do not think I should show you how to cast this one. It can be rather dangerous and it is dark magic, nothing you should bother your pretty little head with." When the brunette pouted, Narcissa lightly chuckled. "It seems Severus was right after all. He always said you were a little know-it-all, not unlike myself…"