A/N: I love Author's notes. It's like being given permission to flex your ego. Not that anybody cares. I always talk about being busy but I should be honest. It's not that I always work, although I do enough of that, it's that I don't have the time to sit at the computer. Exception: This week. Major snowfall expected. Everyone panicked. We got slightly more than half of what was predicted. And I got a three day weekend. But no pay.

Anyway, one of the problems I had last week was too much work at the end of the week and too much free time at the beginning. I put things off and then had to rush the edit and final rewrite. The result was a truncated chapter. (For those who are interested, truncated means cut short. For those of you who aren't interested, you've already stopped reading the author's note so it really doesn't matter what I say.)

Anyhow, as a piece of trivial, if I had bothered to do the full edit, the last chapter would have ended at the first break of this story. Will I ever correct it? You're asking the guy who procrastinated? Well, maybe.

Chapter 10: Memories

October had been a strange month. People were rarely friendly but even his mates were giving him strange looks. A good example was when he was writing a letter to Janice to tell her about the dragon. He mused to Hermione that he wished he could tell Miss Carmichael about it as well. When he muttered something about that stupid secrecy rule, Hermione gave him a strange look. As though she had no idea what he was talking about.

Later, when Draco related the incident to Justin, he received the same look. That was when he began to wonder what was wrong. Why were they acting strange all of a sudden.

Uncle Severus asked him to stay after class the next day. He seemed normal but he kept asking questions about the home Miss Carmichael managed. He seemed mildly curious and often asked Draco to elaborate on a certain point or two.

Draco was worried. Severus Snape never showed any interest in Draco's life at the home. The man once said that the muggle would was behind him. He mostly found it boring. This sudden curiosity was worrying.

It wasn't only about Miss Carmichael. Some of his housemates asked him about the dragon. And about the goblins. Draco could only stare at them. What dragon? And why would goblins care? It made no sense.

Students from other houses asked him about the dragon as well. He simply smiled at them and walked away. By now, Draco needed someone to talk to. Uncle Severus was giving him strange looks. So was McGonagall. Hagrid was asking him how he was feeling. The only person who was acting normal was his godfather. That was why, one week before Halloween, he sought out Rodolphus Lestrange in his office.

"They're asking about dragons?" Uncle Rodolphus asked.

"Dragon," Draco clarified. "Plenty of goblins, though."

The man nodded, as though asking about goblins would make sense. "And you know nothing about dragons? I'll talk to Professor Hagrid. I'm sure he would love to teach your class everything he knows. Ahhh, I'd better not. He'll want to bring one for all of you to pet. And he'll probably forget to feed it first."

Draco cheerfully laughed at the thought. For some reason, the image of a baby dragon appeared in his thoughts. Uncle Rodolphus, however, asked another question and the image faded away.

"They're also asking about your old caretaker at the orphanage?"

"Not exactly. It's more like they don't know what I'm talking about whenever I mention her. And Hermione and Justin have met Miss Carmichael."

Rodolphus Lestrange nodded his head thoughtfully. "You are right, Draco. Something strange is going on." He smiled reassuringly and said in a conspiratorial voice, "I have the solution. It may take a day or two, but I think I can make the arrangements. Although . . . Yes, I will need to confide in Madam Pomfrey."

Draco gave him a confused look.

"My plan involves administering a potion. You did say Professor Snape was acting strange. It would not be appropriate to ask his help. And, I dare say, I trust Madam Pomfrey more."

"And this plan is?" Draco asked eagerly.

"A secret," Rodolphus Lestrange laughed, "until I know it will work. You will find out my plan, whatever it ends up being, as soon as I know it will succeed. You have my promise, boy."

"That's good enough for me, Sir," Draco replied cheerfully. He left the office feeling better than he had in weeks.


Draco was sitting at breakfast. Alone. Despite the stares and whispers, or because of them, he let everyone know he wanted to eat by himself. If he was alone, he could pretend nothing was going on. It made meals easier for him.

It was three days after his talk. He wasn't expecting it, and jumped when the owl delivered the parchment. It was from his godfather. Everything had been arranged. He was to come to the infirmary immediately after breakfast. Excuses had already been made to his teachers. He smiled at the thought that he would finally find out what was wrong with his friends.

It was almost funny. As he left the Great Hall, Hermione put her hand out to stop him.

"Draco?"

He smiled and patted her hand.

"Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine. I promise."

With a glad heart, Draco made his way to meet his fellow conspirators and to find out what their solution was. His smile faded when he entered the infirmary. Four people were there. His godfather and Madam Pomfrey were no surprise. That honour fell to Sirius Black and his partner, whatever her name was.

"He isn't staying," Rodolphus Lestrange said almost at once.

"I thought I was," Sirius Black replied strongly.

"He already despises you, Black. It's her he has to learn to hate. And you will be a distraction."

Sirius Black started to reply but Madam Pomfrey cut him off. He wasn't needed, nor did he have any experience. She then suggested that he escort Professor Lestrange to his Care of Magical Creatures class. Professor Lestrange said it was a wonderful idea. They could keep an eye on each other. He was chuckling as he walked past Draco and gave the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Draco smiled at the two women. As the door closed behind the departing men, he turned to Black's partner. "Why am I supposed to hate you?"

"You're not supposed to. From my experience that is usually the result. Although what we're going to be doing here is not the way I was taught, Madam Pomfrey assures me that the results should be the same. Only much faster."

"Faster?"

"The wonders of magical potions. Without them, the problem would take years to resolve. This way, it should only take days, possibly hours."

"Probably hours," Madam Pomfrey noted. "And, despite her handicap, Miss Brown is, in my opinion, quite capable of handling this situation."

Draco's first thought was that the lady finally has a name. His second thought was that Madam Pomfrey's reassurance seemed to be meant for both of them. His third thought was to wonder what her handicap was. Madam Pomfrey interrupted Draco by handing him a potion.

"What do I do with this?"

"You drink it?"

"Me? But I'm not the problem."

Madam Pomfrey did not smile. "It enhances your memory. We always forget things, sometimes things we need to remember. It is obvious you have forgotten something. Once you remember what that is, and the memory is secure in your mind, you will understand what the problem is. And that is what is most important."

"What did I forget?"

"I don't exactly know."

Miss Brown spoke. "But I do know. The irony is that I can't tell you what it is. All I can do is help you to remember."

Madam Pomfrey nodded toward the potion that was in Draco's hand.

"I have to ask you. Do you trust me?"

"Y-Yes," came the nervous reply.

"You have to drink the potion."

Draco hesitated. Something was wrong. What could he have forgotten? Why would he need a potion? It was everyone else that was the problem. But.

There was always a BUT. But Madam Pomfrey has told him to trust her. She had done so many things for him. He should trust her. BUT.

Draco reached a point where he couldn't think. He could only hold the small bottle in his hand. Slowly, fearfully, he raised the potion to his lips. Afraid that what he was doing was the wrong thing. With tears in his eyes, he drank the potion. And waited.

"Think back, Draco. What is the earliest thing you remember?" It was Miss Brown talking to him. "Take your time. When you are sure, tell me."

Draco tried to think back. He would have been young. Very young. He closed his eyes. Half-formed visions formed in his head. One started to take shape. He was being held by a huge man. A giant. The giant had Draco's face but his eyes were grey. He was saying something. A woman's voice said the same thing. Draco turned his head. Another giant, with red hair and green eyes, eyes just like his, was walking toward him. In her hand was a huge cupcake with a candle in it. A miniature roman candle shooting out balls of colour that made Draco laugh.

"It's my birthday," Draco said happily. "My first birthday."


Small memories flitted through Draco's mind. Being tucked in his crib. A spoonful of something wonderful being put in his mouth. A wonderful combination of joy and fear as he floated inched off the ground on a baby-Draco-sized broom.

Fear.

Fear entered his memories. Mummy was shouting. Daddy shouted back. "It's him. Go. Go now. Save Them." Draco was standing in his crib, holding on to the rail. Mummy came running into the room. Daddy was still shouting to "Save Them."

A green light flashed behind her.

Daddy stopped shouting.

Someone followed Mummy into the room. The someone that made Draco afraid. Mummy turned around to face him. She blocked Draco's view. She said something too soft for Draco to hear. The man laughed. The man shouted two words that Draco had not understood at that time. Mummy shone bright green. Then she fell.

The man, the ugly man, sneered at Draco. He raised his wand and shouted those two words again. Draco screamed. He was still screaming when someone picked him up and carried him away.

The house had changed, and so had the people. Baby Draco was now a toddler. The first word he remembered from the new adults was "NO". And he wasn't the only baby now. He learned that the other baby came first. They would play with the other baby first. Draco would have to do without if there wasn't enough time for him. They would feed the other baby first. Draco would have to do without if there wasn't enough food for him. He was kept busy while he waited for his time to come. And when he became upset, he was put in the quiet place. In time, it became his room. He didn't deserve better.

He remembered the door to the quiet place, the day it opened all on its own. Afraid of being blamed, Draco ran away. No one came after him. No one ever tried to find him.

Draco laughed. It was Constable Givens. He was kneeling in front of Draco. He said, "Hello, Sunny Jim."

The house changed again. The quiet place was at the top of the stairs instead of under them. There was no lock. A tall black woman was looking at him. Her hair was just starting to turn grey. She was telling him this was his room. His own room.

The older Draco saw these memories with two eyes. The way he first saw them, and how they really were. The wonderful little room was also a small thing, barely more than the cupboard. It had a small window and faded wallpaper that had strange stains. It was better to be there than the old cupboard under the stairs, but it was not in as good condition.

Draco remembered loving it. And he loved remembering other things. Meeting Janice. Meeting Mick. How happy he was the first time Mick asked him for help. The lessons from both of his new friends on how it was us against 'them'. 'They' had 'theirs' and it was up to us to get ours any way we could. Mick showed him some ways.

Draco laughed as he remembered how he felt the first time he stole someone's wallet. He waited three days to make sure no one knew he had it before he looked to see what he won. It had a fortune in it. Fourteen pounds. He waited two more days before he finally had the courage to ask Janice what he should do with it. That was when she taught him how to spend money.

Fond memories continued to fill Draco's mind as the years passed. Mick gave him a present when he was nine. A set of allen wrenches. He still had that set in his trunk in the dorm. Mick giving him lessons on how to pick a lock. Using those lessons to help Mick "earn some bread.".

Some memories were bittersweet. Janice's friend Cheryl changed her name and became Cherry. She made lots of new friends. She was always going out on dates and she always had money. Janice promising never to forget him once she went out to make friends and easy money as well.

To little Draco, all of this seemed a wonderful life. Teenaged Draco knew what these wonderful things really were. His best friend was a thief. Hers was a whore. And both of them wanted to be just like their friends. Janice and Draco weren't the lucky ones. They were the failures. The ones that fell through the cracks. And Miss Carmichael, always in the background, trying to make sure they were never completely lost.

The memories continued, both happy and sad. Cherry became ill. Janice moved in with her, to be her nurse instead of her partner. Officer Givens became Detective Givens. He was coming around more. The older Draco understood, now, that he was there for Janice. He remembered being told he had a daughter her age.

And there were the fights. Draco learned fast. What he didn't learn was to choose his time. He was thrown out of school.

He was sent to a new school. Hogwarts! Draco nobody was Draco somebody. He was a wizard. Then the bad news. He had a past. Many people knew his parents. And hated them. The Minister for Magic still hated them.

The more recent memories. The train ride to school. Being beaten. Waking in the infirmary. The eye patch and its removal. Meeting Hermione. Meeting Justin. Meeting Hagrid. Meeting Fred and George outside that door. Meeting Fluffy. Meeting Norbert.

Meeting Voldemort.

Draco frowned as he remembered meeting someone else. Alastor Moody. How could he have forgotten that man? Miss Carmichael was the closest thing he had to a mother. Alastor Moody took the place of his father. His memories seemed to be passing by more quickly but now he had a sense where they were leading. He was remembering that short time when he was thrown out of Hogwarts, those wonderful months of pretending to be a muggle. But he also remembered how it was going to end before he remembered the ending.

It hurt. If anything, it hurt worse than the first time. He was remembering: The basilisk was dead. He had been cured of the poison. He was laughing at the stain he left on Professor Snape's robes. And he knew: the Draco of his memories would learn very soon the truth, that Moody was dead.

Draco wanted it to stop. It wouldn't. Memory after memory returned to him. Sirius Black giving Kreacher to him by mistake, yet refusing to want him back. The locket. It was the same as the diary. It was the same as the cup.

He paused in his reflections. What cup? Was there something in his memories that he missed?

His memories did not answer him. They merely kept surfacing in chronological order whether he wanted them to or not. The summer. The guitar. Coming back to school. Coming back to school.

"Draco?" It was a woman. That Miss Brown who was Sirius Black's partner. "Tell me what the problem is?"

"I was remembering coming back to school but . . . I can't seem to remember it. The train seems all wrong."

"Maybe you went somewhere else first."

"I remember coming to London. Visiting Nigel."

"Maybe Nigel said something. Go back to when you went to see Nigel. What did he say to you?"

It seemed so easy, once Miss Brown mentioned it. There he was again, showing up on Nigel's doorstep. Nigel showing him the shop. And he was showing Draco something else. A phone number. With the word 'Mum' written above it.

Fear filled Draco's thoughts. This had to be wrong. This was supposed to be a happy thought. Why was he afraid?

"There's no answer," a voice in his head told him. Nigel's voice.

The memories flooded him. A siren. Running madly down the street. The flames. The man in the uniform looking away when Draco asked him.

Draco didn't go back to school because he went to a funeral instead.

The memories resumed their frantic pace. Running away. The Yanks. Talking with Black and his friends about a . . . cup. They gave him a cup but it wasn't THE cup.

The last memories came to him all at once. Kreacher taking him to Gringotts. The dragon. The goblins. One of them grabbing the cup. The real cup.

Draco opened his eyes. He felt like he was waking up. He felt like he hadn't slept in a long time.

Miss Brown was watching him, waiting for this moment. "What was the last thing you remembered?"

"Bugger Off."


Draco was standing in Dumbledore's office. It was a repeat of his last time, except now there was only one goblin.

"Mister Malfoy?"

Dumbledore did not need to elaborate. Everyone knew the question.

"Yeah."

There was anger in Draco's voice. The cold anger that is looking for a reason or a purpose. Failing that, at least a direction.

"I remember. Them goblins came through that waterfall. One of them saw . . . saw me and started to come toward me. Then he noticed I'd freed the dragon. He ran back to let his boss know, the one with that noisemaker."

"The clacker. The noise it makes is a warning to the dragon that we are coming."

Draco snorted. "Well, that boss forgot one thing. That dragon weren't tied up no more."

"It would still retreat before the clacker. It was trained."

"Naw. Not trained. Chained. It couldn't do anythin' all those other times."

The goblin hissed. "What did you do? Did you destroy the clacker? Is that why the dragon attacked?"

"Mister Malfoy," the Minister said angrily. "We have means to determine the truth and we will not hesitate to use them."

"How 'bout this for truth," Draco sneered. "The dragon attacked because he could."

The Minister turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, I think it is time for the veritaserum."

Dumbledore wasn't smiling, but his eyes did twinkle. He asked calmly if it were for the boy or the goblin. He trusted Draco and believed him. But Draco was raising the question that the dragon was abused. He then smiled.

"That is one area where Draco Malfoy has too much experience. What if he confirms what he said about the dragon?"

"TRICKSTER," the goblin shouted. "Did your potion restore his memory or remake it? The boy freed the dragon. He is a murderer."

"GORNUK," Dumbledore said sternly, "Never, as you well know, have I shown any prejudice to your race. But the simple fact is this. If the dragon was trained properly, it would not attack its masters. If it was abused, as Draco claims, then that is exactly what it would do. What I am asking is this: What will you do if Draco Malfoy confirms his remarks while he is under the influence of the veritiserum? If what he says is true, he is responsible for releasing the dragon, but you are responsible for the deaths of your brethren for failing to uphold your agreement to properly care for the beast. An oath you made to the Ministry in exchange for permission to harbour the dragon."

Draco heard no more of the argument as he was dismissed. He was to go back to the infirmary until the matter was resolved.


It was morning. Draco returned to the infirmary. He sat in a chair and rested his eyes. Now it was morning and he was lying in a bed.

"It does take a lot of energy out of you," Madam Pomfrey was saying.

"How long do I have to stay here?" Draco's mood was obvious. He was not happy.

"As I understand it, the matter has been put off until 'certain things' can be resolved. You could have left yesterday, had you woken up."

Draco looked surprised. It seems he had slept through the entire day. It was now Halloween. The guests from the other schools had arrived while Draco slumbered. Also, the Goblet of Fire had been revealed.

Draco nodded his head as he dressed. Madam Pomfrey explained how twenty students each from two other schools, Beaubatons and Durmstrang, would be here for the duration of the tournament. The Goblet of Fire was the means by which the champions would be chosen. Draco smiled. This was the part he already knew. Names would be written on pieces of parchment and thrown into the goblet. He also knew one thing he had to do. He glanced at his pickle watch as he put it on. He had plenty of time.

Knowing everyone was at breakfast, Draco chose his moment. The Goblet of Fire was there in the entrance hall on the opposite side of the stairwell from the Great Hall. Nor was it in the direct line of sight. That was important. He stood at the edge of the staircase making sure he was not seen. And waited a few minutes until he heard a group of students. They were laughing as they were exiting the Hall.

Suddenly Draco was running. He appeared from behind the staircase and rushed toward the Great Hall. When he 'suddenly' saw the students in front of him, he tried to stop running. He ended up stopping when he ran into Cedric Diggory. His plan to say 'excuse me' as he passed by became a round of apologies and quick explanations. He was rushing so he didn't miss breakfast. No, he was coming from the infirmary. He heard the Goblet of Fire was there and decided to take a look, that's why he turned the wrong way. He heard people leaving and thought breakfast was ending, that was why he was running.

Some of the group, there must have been a dozen of them, were laughing at Draco. One of them made a remark about why Draco was in the infirmary. Tripping over his own feet. Cedric Diggory silenced him with a look. He turned to Draco and said he had heard things. It must have been rough.

Draco tried to smile. He admitted he 'went a bit barmy'. When the same someones laughed again, Draco snarled.

"How many people have you seen die?" he asked coldly. "How many people have you seen die and you knew you were to blame?"

"You didn't mean for it to happen," Diggory said in support.

"Doesn't change anything. I still saw it."

"From what I heard, they weren't people anyway," a new member of the crowd said. "They were only goblins."

"I don't know your name," Draco replied with passion. "And I don't want to know it. Because every time I did, I would feel the hate that's in me right now." His voice became mocking. "They're only goblins. They're only muggles. They're only people YOU don't like. They think, they feel, they hurt. They are people." His voice became threatening. "Never forget that around me."

Cedric clasped Draco on the shoulder and suggested he go to breakfast. He would talk to his friends. Giving the Gryffindor a knowing smile, he added that he had something important to do. Draco glanced at the cup then returned Cedric's smile, even though he didn't feel like doing it. It would help with the impression he was trying to make.

Draco entered the Great Hall as quite a few people walked out. Several were wearing blue or red robes. All glanced curiously at him. A few also glanced at the door as they walked out. Once he stepped into the hall, Draco looked to the spot where they had looked.

Gornuk the goblin was standing there. He motioned for Draco to walk over to him.

"I heard your argument, Draco Malfoy."

"I, um, I . . ."

"I know you did not see me. That tells me your words were true." The goblin smiled. For some reason it did not seem friendly. "I will tell you what I want from you, Draco Malfoy. To settle the debt you owe us. If a thief eludes us, we will task you with his capture."

Draco had to smile. "Set a thief to catch a thief? Ain't that always the way."

"Do you agree?" the goblin asked.

"I agree to try," Draco said. "Can't promise more than that. And, you know, it sounds like it would be fun."

The goblin could have been sneering. He could have been laughing. "For all your words, you are a true Malfoy. You promise everything and nothing, all in the same sentence."

The goblin left the Great Hall. Draco shrugged his shoulders and turned toward the tables, looking for Hermione. He knew he would have to talk to her. About what happened. Not seeing her, he sighed in relief. One more thing he could put off. Then Colin Creevey's brother saw him and waved. He knew where he would sit. And he knew what he would do. His first statements was already prepared as he took his spot at the table.

"I missed last night. What happened?"

Colin smiled as his brother, Dennis, said, "It was great."