Author's Note: Here's Chapter Ten! A little late in the day, because I had really bad internet connection, but I made it regardless(:
Please enjoy(:
We're almost to the point in the story where everything starts moving along, so I'm excited.
The Missing Piece Chapter Ten
Day: 21
No matter what she did, what book she read, or how many walks she took, Hermione Granger could not stop thinking about the memories she viewed in the pensieve the day before. It seemed unrealistic that she had acted unprofessionally, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, had to warn her about her behavior. It was not at all like her. Hermione always thought herself capable of pulling through any task, no matter who the imbecile she had to work with was.
At least now Hermione had knowledge of what the Weasleys and Harry were talking about weeks ago. Hermione remembered the feeling of exclusion that waved over her as they had described the supposed turning point in her and Malfoy's relationship, at felt better now that she had knew what they were talking about. This was a great feeling, and it almost made her forget she had been obliviated in the first place.
It was those simple things that made her feel whole again, if only for a few moments. As if the missing part of her life was being slowly patched up, and pieces were being put together one day at a time, though Hermione knew she would never completely heal form it.
Day: 22
She had only been to Malfoy Manor a pair of times, but it seemed as if she had been there forever. By now, her trip up to his decadent library was in her muscle memory. If anyone were to ever ask her, Hermione was sure she could walk it with her eyes closed. Her eyes had scoured every corner of his walls and furniture with every trip she made to his lavish mansion, because the level of eloquence that Malfoy Manor held was still surprising to her. She could get used to many things, but this was not one.
"Hermione?"
The voice came out of nowhere, making Hermione jump, startled. Her eyes ripped away from the elaborate book shelf she had been staring at, and looked at the speaker. Malfoy chuckled at her distracted and unfocused expression, and his eyes softened in a way that reminded Hermione of melting snow. Hermione blushed; embarrassed that he had caught her admiring his shelves. She refocused on the pensieve, and the black swirls inside it, taking shape.
"It's the post argument." Malfoy stated simply, his eyes never leaving hers as she spoke. He in fact had spoken the answer to her unvoiced question, making her a bit uneasy. It was uncanny, really, the way he sensed her thoughts and doubts…
Hermione nodded, her heart pumping noticeably faster when she remembered Ginny's words echoing in her head: Yeah well I suppose you guys made amends afterwards, because a month later you both began to date. Her stomach churned with nervousness and fear, but continued forward regardless despite the urge to keep her face as far from that pensieve as possible. She was not yet comfortable with the fact that she and Malfoy dated, and was completely undecided as to whether she even wanted to witness their relationship. She put her thoughts aside and flung her head at the pensieve before she changed her mind.
Hermione found herself in some sort of library of documents in the Ministry of Magic, surrounded by files, and filing cabinets as far as her eye could see. She found Memory Hermione and Memory Malfoy hunched over a pile of documents sitting in the only visible desk. Hermione could immediately see they were both trying to sit as far away from each other as possible without making it obvious. She could see the tentativeness that inhibited their movements whenever either Memory Hermione or Memory Draco had to reach out and grab a file that was too close to the other. Both Memory Hermione and Memory Draco kept their eyes glued to the desk and the files that were upon it, working in absolute silence. Hermione watched, attentive to the tiniest of movements between them. She saw Memory Hermione's arm twitch, seeming to debate whether or not she should reach over and grab the file that was in very close proximity to Memory Draco's elbow. Memory Hermione took a deep breath, and snatched the file quickly, reminding Hermione of the way a snake strikes. Hermione noticed Memory Malfoy had tensed noticeably, his back straightened and his head lifted ever so slightly, pausing in his work. Memory Malfoy did not move until a few seconds later, when nothing could be heard, except the rustle of paper.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Hermione saw Memory Malfoy pause. His head turned right, and left, in search of something. When he found what he was looking for, he paused once more, and his face tensed. What he wanted, out of his reach, on the other side of Memory Hermione. He stared at his goal, the object he required for a few minutes, as if deliberating whether he should simply ask for it, or get it himself. Memory Hermione tensed when she noticed Memory Malfoy looking in her direction, apparently unsure whether she should hand him the file, or continue working.
It was very odd to watch, and slightly comical. Both were so very aware of each other's presence, yet wanted nothing to do with each other. Hermione could see they were trying their hardest to work together (if that's what one calls working together). It was as if Memory Hermione and Memory Draco were being extremely careful around each other, because any little thing might set the other off and that would not go down well with Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Is this all you have to show me?" Hermione asked Malfoy, turning around. But he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere. Had he not come with her? She slowly turned back around, feeling slightly stupid for talking to someone who wasn't there.
Just then, swirls of black engulfed the scene, and Hermione found herself in the same exact place. The only difference was the room was the lights that circled the perimeter of the Ministry library. Hermione concluded this memory must be during a different day, and wished she had Malfoy present to confirm her guess.
Memory Malfoy and Memory Hermione were in the exact same place that Hermione had found them in the last memory. They sat the same distance apart, with their eyes glued to their respective documents. The room was filled with nothing but the occasional sound of papers rustling, and their breathing. Memory Hermione was working fervently on a document she had in hand, taking down notes with her quill without pause. Memory Malfoy seemed to be studying moving pictures, with concentrated eyes.
After a few minutes of silence, Memory Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, causing Memory Malfoy to freeze in the middle of what he was doing.
"This is ridiculous. We're working together on this case whether we like it or not, we might as well work together like we mean it if we want to solve this. I don't care who you are, I cannot work like this. I have to check with others, talk about our findings and analyze them." Memory Hermione rushed out, before she changed her mind.
Memory Malfoy stared at her incredulously, his eyes trying to read her emotions to gauge if her suggestion was said seriously or not.
"I suppose." Memory Malfoy answered after a moment's deliberation.
Memory Hermione gave him a tiny smile, and nodded, scooting her chair ever so closer, and awkwardly returning to her work. Hermione noticed the atmosphere was even tenser than before, filled with insecurity and uneasiness. Memory Hermione returned to her work, blushing for some reason Hermione could not think of.
"I'm reading the case files the Auror squads filed after they investigated the muggle deaths Kingsley mentioned… I'm positive it has been done by the killing curse… but I remember reading that the Dark Mark hung over those who have been murdered so it's out of character for Death Eaters not to have done that." Memory Hermione said, turning her body toward Memory Malfoy, extending the arm with the files she was talking about toward him so he could have a better look.
"Not necessarily." Memory Malfoy pointed out. "After the death of you-know-who the Dark Mark faded, although not completely. They can't conjure the Dark Mark anymore. Not when there's no one to call, nor anyone to report to."
"So it could have been done by Death Eaters, then?" Memory Hermione suggested.
"It was. See here, the Auror wrote, 'Victims were found lying in unnatural positions.' That's most likely the Imperius Curse. Death Eaters often play with their victims before ending their life." Memory Malfoy said, his voice resonating from the walls and various filing cabinets.
"Brilliant. Thank you." Memory Hermione said. Once the words were out however, she blushed, embarrassed by thanking him. Memory Malfoy acted as though he did not hear her.
Memory Malfoy turned his gaze to the pictures he was studying. Hermione could not see what they were from where she was standing, so she moved closer, and peeked over Memory Malfoy's shoulder. It was a picture of a man, wand just visible from the pocket of his robes, in front of a coffee shop. There was another man with him. This man had a scruffy beard, and the Dark Mark was just visible from the hem of his robes. Both were talking, exchanging words in the background of the picture. Hermione studied the picture a while longer, noticing that she recognized the store the two men were standing by. She had visited that coffee shop during her third year at Hogwarts, when she went to France with her parents. It was this finding that made the memory she was currently in more real, and her heart began to pound at this revelation. For the first time, she felt like she was watching things that actually happened, instead of a dream that she had a hard time believing.
Memory Malfoy scratched his head. He had labeled all the pictures with a number, and those numbers were written on a piece of parchment along with the location of the picture along with it. This particular picture was number 160, but the location was blank on the parchment. His quill hovered over the empty space on the paper, clearly unable to figure out the location of the picture.
"Mind telling me if you know where this picture is from?" Memory Malfoy asked Memory Hermione hesitantly, showing her the picture in his hand.
"It's France. That's a coffee shop I used to go to when I went there once." Memory Hermione replied after studying the picture for about a minute.
"Okay." Memory Malfoy said, writing 'France' upon the parchment. "Thank you." He said after a minute.
Hermione stared at the scene, unprovoked tears rolling down her cheeks. She wished now, more than ever, to remember. She felt it in her heart that this scene had actually happened. She felt empty, and sad to know that this had happened, and she had no means to remember it. It was quite amazing what a simple picture could do to someone.
Hermione focused on the scene before her again, noticing that the atmosphere had relaxed considerably. Memory Hermione and Memory Malfoy were no longer sitting as far from each other as possible, and they both seemed a bit more relaxed, yet not totally comfortable with each other. Thus it became a peaceful scene, of two people striving to work together as best as they could.
Black swirls appeared, and Hermione braced for another change in scenery. This time, the pensieve showed her to an office, where Memory Hermione and Memory Malfoy sat, hunched together over a map and a stack of files.
"But this doesn't make sense… the Aurors spotted them in Germany just one day ago. It doesn't seem logical that they would be in Switzerland at the same time." Memory Hermione said, studying the map harder, willing it to give her answers.
"Unless they split up." Memory Malfoy stated simply, looking up at her.
Memory Hermione looked at him as well. "But you said yourself they're scared of being found. They would most likely band together."
"Yes, unless they have a reason to separate. I think our near discovery of them last week gave them reason enough, when the Auror squads found Lestrange and Yaxley in Italy."
Memory Hermione returned her gaze to the map. "What makes you think they're in France?"
"Headquarters. We have a lot of documentation, as well as visible proof that they are in France most of the time. We only spotted them in other places occasionally, making me think that it's a tactic they're using to misguide us." Memory Malfoy analyzed, not taking his eyes off his case partner.
Memory Hermione met his eyes with a look of misbelief. "That actually makes sense. That's perfect. Just what we need. Brilliant."
Hermione assumed that this memory must have taken place a couple weeks after the last one, because Memory Hermione and Memory Malfoy looked very comfortable working with each other. They had set a new pace, a new rhythm that worked well and it suited them. Is that how it all began, then? Was this the beginning of something?
"Of course it's perfect, I said it." Memory Malfoy said sarcastically.
"You stuck up git." Memory Hermione shot back jokingly, actually letting out a chuckle.
"Says the woman who is always dying to show off her intelligence."
Memory Hermione shook her head, a smile on her face. "I do not do that."
"Oh Mr. Shacklebolt," Memory Malfoy said in a high pitch, imitating Memory Hermione. "Mr. Shacklebolt, I know I'm right because I read about it in a library! I read everything, Mr. Shacklebolt! Everyone else is wrong, because they did not read Hogwarts: A History!"
"I do not do that!" Memory Hermione repeated stubbornly, between laughs.
Memory Malfoy muttered something Hermione could not hear, and Memory Hermione broke out into a fit of laughter so fierce, Memory Malfoy had no choice but to join in, laughing with her.
"Malfoy?" Hermione called once she had returned from the pensieve. She was surprised to find the library was empty when her feet had touched solid ground. "Malfoy?" She called again, peeking out of the room and into the hallway. He was nowhere in sight, so she left the library and continued down her usual path to the living room.
"Why didn't you come with me into the pensieve?" Hermione asked him once she found him, sitting in his fancy sofa near the fireplace.
"I thought it best you go alone." He said simply, not meeting her eyes. Hermione studied his dejected expression, feeling he was not being completely honest with his answer.
"Okay. I guess I'll be going now." She said, not wanting to push the truth from him.
Malfoy nodded, glancing at her for a brief second. "Take care." He said quietly.
Hermione nodded, floo powder already in hand. She stepped into the fireplace, and shouted her address, spinning home.
It wasn't until she returned to her living room that she realized Malfoy's eyes were red, and brimming with moisture.