Bittersweet

By cenagurl

A/n: So after disappearing for more than a year and not updating my fics, here I am again. I'm very sorry to have kept you guys waiting, but here's the continuation of the fic that garnered the most number of reviews in my list of written stories. :) hope you guys would still read it, and enjoy it as well despite its oldness, lack of grammatical proficiency and inconsistency in information. I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters, by the way.

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Chapter 10: Resurfacing of Memories

Narcissa Black Malfoy was dreaming.

Her first vision was when her son was about nine years old and had come running to her one afternoon bearing fresh lash marks on his back. She had quickly asked him what had happened, and little Draco mumbled something incoherent about accidentally overhearing a meeting between his father and an acquaintance which caused his unleashed wrath, surprising her that there was no hint of tears from him.

Everything blurred then, and the next thing she saw was the time when she was standing by the French bay window one stormy evening when Lucius decided to punish Draco for something unworthy of castigation by locking him inside an empty cage where the dangerous beasts were kept by the deserted courtyard.

She could hear her son screaming for help even through the angry howling of the rain and the daunting thunder. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried when she saw her husband's figure starting towards the direction where Draco was confined in, wearing a hooded cloak.

She could only cry in alarm when Lucius pulled out his wand and suddenly her son was twisting in an odd position, indicating that he was being put under a Cruciatus Curse.

"Never show cowardice in front of me, Draco!" his father's shout had echoed around the entire place, but Narcissa doubted her young son could understand what he meant.

The memory then dissolved to a hazy blur, followed by another one. This time her son wasn't involved, only she and her husband as they faced each other in the cold spacious foyer.

"I married you because I thought you had more backbone," Lucius said maliciously. "But you are a coward, just like your cousin Regulus. You aren't worthy to serve the Dark Lord, and even your son is just as useless,"

"I would do anything you say, Lucius, just don't endanger the life of our son—"

Narcissa was kneeling in front him now, her tears soaking the front of his robes. She could feel Lucius' disgusted stare at her.

"I will do as I please with Draco, and you will not meddle," he hissed, kicking her away from him. Narcissa flew a few feet away, her lip bleeding. "You will not meddle, do you understand?"

Narcissa's eyes looked pleadingly at her husband, although deep inside she knew it was no use. "Lucius, he'll kill our son…"

Lucius' cold gray eyes stared down at her. "If that's the way the Dark Lord will succeed, then so be it," he said casually.

Her husband's face was slowly fading away, replaced by a stranger's, which looked so blurry she could not make out its features.

She blinked twice, and as her eyes opened, she saw a man peering down at her with curious brown eyes.

"I'm glad you're finally awake, ma'am," the man said with a smile. "I was afraid you'd never do,"

Narcissa hardly found the strength to speak. "W—where am I?" she croaked out, blinking again to clear away the cruel memories she found in her dreams.

"In the hospital," the man answered. "You were found unconscious by a teenager at the abandoned house near Magnolia Crescent,"

Narcissa tried to sit up, but the pain that wracked her whole body brought a sting of tears in her eyes. The man assisted her back to the bed with caution.

"Please don't move about yet, your injuries are quite… deep,"

Narcissa heaved a sigh as she closed her eyes. "Am I in the muggle world?" she asked, failing to see the baffled look on the doctor's face.

"Muggle? Ma'am, you should rest a bit more, your mind seems to… please rest now, ma'am,"

The man's words were lost on Narcissa however, as she had already fallen back asleep.

xxxxxx

"Wotcher, Draco,"

Draco turned at the voice, and smiled when he saw his cousin sauntering towards him with a brown paper bag in her hand.

"I brought you some croissants!" Tonks cheerfully announced as she plopped beside her cousin in the dining room. Draco quickly thanked her, then tore the bag open.

"They're still warm," he commented as he sniffed the appetizing smell. "Have you just gotten off from work?"

"Yeah," Tonks answered. "By the way, where's Hermione? It's so weird not seeing you two together,"

Draco shrugged as he took a bite out of his first piece of pastry. "She's upstairs, I reckon," he said through a mouthful of croissant. "I think she's still angry with me for going out of the house last week,"

Tonks gave her cousin a disproving look. "Well, she's got a good reason to get mad, you know," she replied. "You could have killed yourself doing such a stupid thing!"

"But why am I going to get myself killed? I'm really confused with what's happening here," he commented. "Who would want to kill me?"

"Maybe your father," Tonks blurted out before she could stop herself. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she murmured, "I did not mean to say that…"

But Draco's curiosity was definitely piqued. "My father? Why?"

Tonks shook her head, refusing to say more. Draco gave her a glare but still she did not budge.

"Alright, I guess I'll ask someone else then… how about that screaming portrait in the hallway?"

Draco was about to rise from his seat when Tonks grabbed his arm. "Alright, I'll tell you!" she huffed, and he grinned as he sat back down. "You're father is a death eater, remember? Of course you don't remember. Well anyway, from what Hermione told us, he wanted you to be a follower of You-Know-Who too, but your mother smuggled you out of your mansion and handed you under the protection of the Order,"

"Now your dad's in a snit and he wants you back," Tonks finished with a hearty sigh. "Now do you understand?"

She glanced over at her cousin but saw that he was contemplating what she just revealed.

"But what about my mother? Is she safe from my father?" his sudden question surprised the female auror. She could hear the sincere anxiousness in her cousin's voice.

"To be honest with you, I really have no idea, Draco,"

He stood up so quickly that the bag of croissants on his lap fell on the floor.

"I have to help my mother escape—"

"Draco, you can't just go anywhere!" Tonks shrieked. "Look, I can tell the other members of the Order to search for your mother and see her condition, but please don't try to leave the headquarters,"

Draco lost some of the sorry from his face. "Please do that," he whispered. "I may still not recall anything significant, but when you mentioned my mother, a sudden feeling of panic surged through me,"

"It's alright," Tonks said, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'll make sure your mother's doing fine,"

xxxxxx

Hermione was fast asleep on the couch when Draco entered their room. He quickly strode over to her and carried her to the bed. Just as he was securing the blankets around her, he stopped to take a close look at her slumbering form.

Her impossibly long lashes formed crescents against her milky cheeks, and her small rosebud lips were slightly opened, making her look far younger than her real age. Wild curly strands of hair had fallen from her loose ponytail and had framed her face nicely, so Draco did not move any tendril away.

"So beautiful…" he heard himself whisper, and he couldn't resist dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Rest well, Hermione,"

He wanted to turn away from her but simply couldn't. his eyes strayed once more to her lips, and some sort of magnetic force seemed to be pulling him closer and closer to her…

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING??"

Ron's bellow came from the doorway, and Draco jumped in surprise. "I—I was just—" he couldn't seem to get a believable excuse out, and he could feel his cheeks reddening.

Hermione had jerked awake at Ron's shouting, and she was giving him a confused look. "What're you shouting about, Ron?" she asked groggily.

"That—that git was trying to k—" before the redhead could reveal what he was about to do, Draco had rushed over to him and clamped a hand on his mouth.

Hermione looked as though she was restraining her amusement; gingerly she hopped from the bed and went over to the two, who were struggling against each other's grips.

"Stop it, you two," she said warningly, and the two quickly halted. Draco was lowering his hands when Ron started to holler again.

"Hermione, that git was trying to ki—"

Draco decided in flash that it would be better if he really did it than having him hear say what he was trying to do.

Before Ron could finish what he was saying, he grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and crushed his lips down to hers in a rough kiss. His lips quickly gentled though, but he could feel her still stiff beneath him.

He teasingly coaxed her with his tongue, and she quickly opened up for him, her arms going around his neck. He seemed to have totally forgotten that there was someone else in the room with them.

Not until he felt Ron's grip from the back of his shirt and the sudden punch on his face. He landed with a thud on the floor, tasting blood on his lips.

"You bastard!" Ron made a move to punch him again but Hermione, who was still looking quite shocked, grabbed his arm.

"Stop it, Ron!" she said breathlessly. "Please… just leave us alone for a while…"

Ron's face was fast becoming red again. "AND WHAT?? LET HIM TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU AGAIN??"

Hermione looked so angry with his remark that she could not speak. Muttering an angry curse, she hit Ron hard on the arm, walked over to Malfoy to give him a sound slap on the cheek, and stalked out of the room, leaving the two men gawking after her in astonishment.

"I'll get back to you, Malfoy," Ron vowed viciously before leaving. Draco did not seem to hear him, however. A flood of memories had suddenly swum in his head, although most of them still distorted…

"… you foul… you evil…!"

Hermione had slapped him across the face, hard. He stared, terrified at the wand she pointed at his chest now… was she going to hex him to oblivion?

His brows furrowed together at this. He had been slapped by Hermione before? Why? He closed his eyes and tried to recall more, but nothing came.

His thoughts were disturbed by the sudden pounding of hid head. He slowly stood up and dropped down on the bed as he burrowed his face deep into the pillows as if that could ease the pain.

"Nobody asked for your opinion, you filthy little mudblood."

Tears had quickly sprung in her mahogany eyes at his harsh words. Before he could say anything else, she had turned and fled.

He was mean to Hermione? Again, why?

"At least no one had to buy their way in; they got in on pure talent,"

She had embarrassed him, and in front of his quidditch teammates no less.

The pounding in his head increased threefold, and he gave a low moan.

"You're joking, Weasley!" he had said behind them—Harry, Ron and Hermione. "You're not telling me someone's asked her to the ball? Not the long-molared mudblood?"

The small scenarios going on in his head seemed to be the cause of his head ache. He tried with all his might to keep his mind blank, but it was no use.

"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?"

FERRET? Wait a minute…

xxxxxx

"I have seen him, milord," a hoarse, squeaky voice said in the darkness. "He's with the Potter boy…"

"I see," another voice murmured. "It's time to act…"

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A/n: Too short for your satisfaction:( I'll try my best to compensate, I promise… please review!