A Hundred Storms

Chapter Thirty-Five: Achilles Heel

So you were never a saint
And I've loved in shades of wrong
We learn to live with the pain
Mosaic broken hearts
But this love is brave and wild
And I never saw you coming
And I'll never be the same
- State of Grace by Taylor Swift

Hermione found herself staring at her various wardrobes and drawers. Never before had she been nervous about a sleepover. Never had she been to a sleepover quite like this.

Hermione wondered if she would be expected to sleep in the same bed. Not that she was against it. Quite the opposite. Hermione hoped to sleep with Draco, she loved the feeling of his body against hers. The night she made him stay in her room in Hogwarts was, for lack of a better word, lovely. When he pressed against her she felt safe, she felt like she could keep him safe. Hermione wanted to feel that again. She wanted to feel that with Draco again.

Hermione rooted through her drawers again. What was appropriate? What was boring? If she showed up in her best knickers would he assume she knew what was going to happen...if it happened? She hated thinking about anything thatmight happen but at the same time...that which might happen sounded wonderful to her. Hermione's thoughts were whirling around in circles. She remembered the many times she found his body pressed against hers. The tower when the Maliceptor first struck was fire-hot in her mind. He had grabbed her and held her close, at the time she assumed it was because he was afraid of her falling victim to violence in his presence. Now she wondered if there was an underlying affection or attraction. Regardless of his motives then, the attraction was not to be argued.

Hermione stared at the underwear that looked back at her blankly. It was underwear for Merlin's sake. It wasn't like it really mattered.

But it did. Hermione realized then that she did care what Draco thought if he were to see her under garments. It mattered to her what he thought of her on a level of how a man might feel about a woman. Hermione remembered thinking about what Ron might care but not caring. Ron saw her at her worst, her literal, furry worst. She never felt the need to try with him. Maybe that was one of the reasons they failed.

Hermione sighed with annoyed frustration and finally stripped out of her dark funeral attire. Naked she rummaged through the drawer and pulled out all the matching sets of garments she owned. Five in all, she thought they would be reasonable. Hermione grabbed a couple extra pairs and then she slipped into a simple and unassuming black set, a bit more daring than her usual white cotton. Hermione felt comfortable enough and attractive enough without feeling like she was trying too hard. But really...she was trying so hard.

She huffed again to herself and went about packing an assortment of clothing she thought might be appropriate. She didn't know if Draco intended to leave his home in the week but she packed a few nicer articles in case he decided a dinner out would be entertaining. She packed half a dozen other outfits that were comfortable for staying close to home and she hoped it would be enough. Strange, the last time she packed with her heart pounding like a bass drum her life had been in danger. She was even more keyed up this time around. Strange, again, how the mind works. Hermione almost preferred running for her life.

Hermione grumbled a little to herself before calling for Winky. The tiny House-Elf appeared almost immediately.

"Good evening Miss Hermione!" Winky said excitedly.

"Good evening, Winky," Hermione replied. "I was hoping you could grab a couple of those vials for me from the hospital wing?"

Winky disappeared in a flash and was back almost as quickly. In her tiny hand she held three vials. "Is this enough?" the small House Elf asked.

"Perfect," Hermione told her, checking to be sure her name was on the label. "Thank you so much."

Winky disappeared again and Hermione was left once more with her own thoughts and a pocketful of memories that didn't belong to her.

Ten minutes later Hermione was walking out of the castle and down the path towards Hogsmeade. Feeling lazy she held close to her small overnight bag and Disapparated from the path. When she appeared in front of the Shrieking Shack she was met with a very nervous Draco.

"You came," Draco breathed.

Hermione set her bag beside her. "Of course I came. I said I would, didn't I?"

"I was concerned." Draco admitted. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"I hope you can grow to trust me," Hermione said softly.

"Trusting isn't a natural instinct," Draco said with a delicate shrug.

"Then we both have a little learning and fighting to do, then don't we?" Hermione countered wryly. "Are we taking the Knight Bus?"

Draco looked aghast. "Public transpiration?" he asked incredulously. "Are you mad?"

Draco looked so comical at the idea of sharing quarters with the general populace that Hermione had to stifle a laugh. "Alright then," she said with a grin. "If you say so. I suppose a side-along then?"

Draco relaxed and nodded. "I promise not to Splinch you," he said with a chuckle.

Hermione, however was no longer smiling when the words finished falling from Draco's lips. Hermione stiffened and in that moment she would swear she could still smell the salty, coppery smell of Ron's ghastly wounds.

"Granger?" Draco looked down at her with some confusion. "Er, did I say something?"

"No, no," Hermione waved a hand at his concern and took a deep breath. The chilly air of fall giving in to winer overpowered the thick scent of blood that began beating at her senses. "I had a bad experience with Splinching. It's nothing now."

"You've been Splinched"? Draco asked with some degree of horror leaking into his voice.

"No...no..." Hermione muttered again. "I was fine...I spliched Ron while we were on the run. Apparation should not be conducted when the person doing the Apparitionn is under duress, but what choice did we have? I patched him up as best as I could but there's only so much one can do...he still has a terrible scar.."

Draco fought the twitch of jealously that bit at him when Hermione had unknowingly alluded to seeing more of Ron Weasley than the general public was allowed to acknowledge. This was not the time, nor the place.

"You did the best you could with the shit hand you were dealt, Granger." Draco said sternly. Someone else would have apologized for the distasteful joke but Draco didn't believe in wasting apologies on trivial things.

"Wealsey is fine, Potter is fine. You're allowed a few mistakes considering the circumstances. Those two morons wouldn't have lasted a day without you and they damn well know it."

It was strange, really, how much Draco and Ron had in common when it came to Hermione Granger.

Hermione gave him a small smile and let the derogatory name he gave her friends go. She reached out her hand and Draco took it without missing a bear. This tiny gesture of hers was quickly becoming one of Draco's favorite quirks.

"Ready for a little wine" Draco asked as his hand closed around hers.

"Only a little?" Hermione felt better enough to tease back until her stomach growled with embarrassing vigor. "Or perhaps a little would be just fine until we've had some dinner. Merlin this feels like the day that will not end. I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"Then without further adieu-" Draco's hand tightened around hers and in a swirl of cloaks they were gone.

The two landed seconds later under a canopy of thick trees off a small dirt road.

"You knew right where to land," Hermione said to Draco.

"Of course," Draco said with some surprise. "There's anti-Apparation spells on the grounds near the house and this area is entirely populated by Muggles. Come see."

Hermione still gripped Draco's hand as they made their way out from under the canopy through the trees and brush.

"Did your family have these trees planted specifically for Apparation?" Hermione asked him.

"Of course," Draco said again. "A lot of planning goes into a wizarding home, even the simplest structure needs some sort of cover for the Muggles."

"I know that," Hermione replied tartly, but she smiled. "This isn't the first Wizard home I've visited.

"The village is often busy, so a small tree line was always the best cover. Every once in awhile we pop in and surprise a couple Muggles looking for some, er, privacy of sorts. Generally we modify their memories and send them on their way."

Hermione picked up on Draco's choice of words. "Generally?"

"My father gave into his more sadistic nature from time to time," Draco said in a stony voice.

"What d-"

"That's all I'm saying about it," Draco said with more force than was necessary. "He's dead. We buried him today and that's all there is."

Hermione wanted nothing more than to push the subject, but she knew that tone. If Draco wanted her to drop it, she would. For now.

The duo stepped out of the shadow of the tree line and onto a small dirt road that lead into a small but obviously populated busy little village. Even with night having fallen Hermione could see most of the small cottages and stores were still illuminated inside. On the far side of the village was a grand manor elevated on a hill.

"House on a hill?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Something tells me that one is yours."

Draco had relaxed again and nodded. "You would be correct. This home was actually the original home my family inhabited, it was a gift from the French monarch Clovis IV in the 600s. My ancestor worked for him under the guise of a physician and after a couple miraculous healings only my ancestor could do he earned himself a Comte title, land, and this village."

"Wow," Hermione breathed as they walked toward the manor. "Your family is certainly rich in history."

"Rich, period," Draco affirmed unapologetically. "My father always wanted to sell the land and home but the inheritance works out that the first born Malfoy, male or female, inherits this property and all wealth that comes with it. After I was born my father no longer legally owned this land and therefore couldn't sell it."

"Why would he want to sell such a gorgeous piece of history?" Hermione asked Draco.

Draco chuckled darkly. "He thought our French ancestors lived and interacted too close with Muggles. My father would do business with Muggles, of course. Money is, after all, money. He didn't approve the fact that a title and land were gifts from a Muggle monarch and thought my ancestor a fool to consort with them. That was another thing I never understood about my father. My ancestor's name was Lucius Abraxis, like my father, our fortune began with the original Lucius Abraxis. Had he not done that Muggle king a good turn our lives could have been very different indeed."

"Perhaps what is where the disdain comes from," Hermione suggested. "It probably ate at your father to know that the wealth he enjoyed so much started with a Muggle. Of course the title was empty, as Wizarding society does not recognize Muggle stations, but it must have been helpful to have in Muggle circles. Wealth and power enjoy the company of other wealth and power."

"That's how it began," Draco affirmed. "And our luck has stayed with us throughout the centuries."

"This is such a sweet little village," Hermione said as they continued pst the small town following the path.

"We can have dinner some night, there's a great pub I like to visit when I'm here," Draco replied.

"And it's entirely Muggle?" Hermione asked.

"There's two wizards and a witch that live in the village," Draco replied. "The wizards have been married for many years, I think one of them grew up around here. The witch is a widow, she married a Muggle some years ago and he passed during the war. Cancer? Is that the Muggle illness?"

"One of them," Hermione confirmed. "There are many."

"Seems like a shame," Draco said, feeling the conversation begin to wane.

"I always thought it was strange," Hermione continued. "Muggles do not get illnesses like Dragon Pox, but we don't get any forms of cancers. We both can contract the flu and the common cold, however, even though potions are usually quicker to fix the ailment."

"I know some Ministry officials had a group of potion masters working on something like that," Draco remembered. "They wanted to see if there was a way to cure Squibs. The funding ran out though, that was maybe five or six years ago."

"That would be fascinating work!" Hermione exclaimed. "I wonder how you petition for funding for something like that? I'm sure the potions masters were probably top-notch, but Muggle science would have to take a part, too. There's so many things that the magical community ignores, like cells and molecules and DNA and all other Muggle science just because we can explain anything with magic. I don't think that magic is all there is, of course there is science involved as well."

"Well," Draco said slowly. "It's something to think about after you finish school, isn't it?" The gears were already turning in his head.

They had reached the old stone manor by now and Draco unlocked the front door with a spell Hermione had never heard before. He indicated she step in ahead of him and he flicked his wand around the entryway to light the candles that illuminated the interior.

"It's very similar to the Manor in Whiltshire," Draco explained. "You could say we have a certain taste and we stick to it."

Draco led them through the entry way and into a formal dining room, a huge table occupying the middle space. On the far end at the head of the table two plates, two glasses of water, and two wine glasses waited for them. They approached the spread and Hermione's mouth began to water over the Cornish game hen she saw on the plates along with mashed potato, roasted carrots and a gorgeous spinach salad.

"You didn't-?" Hermione asked.

Draco chuckled. "House Elves, Granger," he said apologetically. You probably won't see them. Lettie and Lottie are twin elves that live here full time, they are very very shy but they love to cook and are excellent at it."

Hermione eyed the food warily. She knew Draco thought Elves liked being enchanted slaves, and perhaps they did, but it still rubbed against her moral fiber to indulge.

"Relax, Granger," Draco said softly and pulled her chair out for her. "I promise they're well taken care of here. They don't like to be around a lot of people so this part-time house is a great place for them to live. Most days they just make sure everything is dusted and they can partake in whatever leisure activities they choose."

Hermione swallowed and nodded before accepting the chair and sat down. The food smelled heavenly and Draco summoned a bottle of wine that looked ancient and dusty. He poured their glasses about half full and sat down himself, lifting the glass at Hermione.

"Are we toasting to something?" Hermione asked.

"This may be slightly unorthodox, but I want to toast my father," Draco said without any indication of emotion. "He was a bastard, but I hope he's finding peace wherever he is."

Hermione nodded once and clinked her glass against his and took a sip.

"Draco, this wine is amazing!" She said with some delight.

Draco smiled. "I'm glad you enjoy it. There's several from the same year so drink as much as you want, I can always summon more."

Hermione's eyes glittered as she looked to him over her glass. That sounded like a great invitation to her. As Harry said, she deserved a little reprise from the bumps life has been sending her lately.

They chatted about nothing in particular as they ate their dinner. Draco was right, the elves were fabulous cooks, Hermione didn't think even the food of Hogwarts could compare. Hermione liked this, dinner by candlelight was nothing extraordinary in the technology-backward Wizarding world, but while she always found it a bit romantic, it was cozy here as well. When Draco smiled, when he truly smiled, his face transformed into someone Hermione was truly growing to love. Maybe she already did. The haunted man was still there, of course, but he wasn't winning the battle anymore.

As dinner was finishing up Draco summoned another two dusty green bottles. He poured the rest of the dinner bottle into his own glass and popped the cork out of one of the new ones and topped Hermione off.

"Thank you," Hermione said gratefully. The vials in her pocket were beginning to feel like lead weighing her down into her expensive chair.

"You are welcome," Draco answered, almost too formally. He noticed the change in Hermione's demeanor but didn't want to be the one to initiate the next part of this already incredibly strange day.

"You- you said you have a Pensieve?" Hermione was working so hard to control her voice.

"I borrowed it from the Manor, ah, the other Manor," Draco said nervously. "It's in the library."

"You have a library here, too?" Hermione's nervous voice caught with a hitch of excitement. More books? Could Draco's family possibly have another room full of books?"

Draco relaxed a fraction and grinned. "What's a stuffy old manor without one?" He asked her.

Hermione pushed her chair back with a little effort and picked up her wine glass along with the unopened bottle of wine Draco brought from the cellar, motioning for him to grab his glass and the opened bottle she planned on polishing off with unceremonious relish later. She waited for Draco to meet her at the end of the table and followed him as he led the way once more though this home. It might have been smaller than Malfoy Manor but Hermione was hard-pressed to be able to tell for sure. More portraits of Malfoys past lined most of the walls and Hermione kept her eyes staring straight ahead as the portraits whispered furiously amongst themselves.

The library, it turned out, was on the same floor as the dining room and probably three times as large. The ceilings domed at the top, creating an almost chapel-like feel to the home of more books than could possibly have fit even in the Hogwarts library.

"The library in the main home is bigger," Draco couldn't help but brag a little. "But you're welcome to explore either any time you like. You'll probably find enough to occupy your time indefinitely. I don't think I've even managed to read through a quarter of what we have in my life."

"Don't tempt me," Hermione said while turning around and taking the room in. "I may never leave."

"Well, I was hoping my cunning plan of leading you to the library would help keep you right where I want you," Draco said with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "I'll make sure one of the House Elves feeds you every so often."

Hermione laughed and felt her heart skip at the prospect of never really needing to leave a room filled with so many books. Harry and Ron would have rolled their eyes but Draco managed to make the prospect of locking herself up in a library thrilling. Perhaps it was the wine, but her cheeks began to feel slightly flushed at an idea that broke through her awe of all the books about activities that had nothing to do with books whatsoever. Hermione's eyes finally fell to a small writing desk a few feet from where they stood and atop of is sat an almost exact replica of the Pensieve Dumbledore had kept in his office. She made her way to it and pulled out the vials Harry had given her with a trembling hand.

Draco had followed her without a word and stood across from her, both of them now overlooking the basin of magical liquid.

"I wanted you to see these," Hermione said and drew a shaking breath. "And I want to stress that these are deeply personal memories and they were never mine to share. I thought you deserved to know a couple things, things that were never fully made public knowledge. This one-" Hermione pulled out on vial. "This one belongs to Harry. He told me about this night first, before we went on the run, and then showed me the memory itself when I stayed with him over the summer. I think you'll find it's awfully familiar. Are you ready?"

Draco was not ready, not by any stretch of the imagination. He was not ready in a way that he was suddenly fighting the urge to turn his back on the Pensieve and Hermione, content to leave whatever memories she had in her possession safely and firmly where they belonged- in the past. But Draco didn't turn away. He nodded.

Hermione drew in another deep breath and pulled out the stopper holding the memories in place. She poured the memories into the liquid and together Draco and Hermione entered Harry's memory.

"Fuck Granger!" Draco swore loudly when he realized where they were. They were in a small space in the Astronomy Tower, and beside them Harry was still hidden from them behind his invisibility cloak. Hermione knew he was there, and Draco knew this was Harry's memory but didn't understand why he couldn't see him.

"Harry's just over there," Hermione indicated to an empty bit of space. He's under the invisibility cloak. Dumbledore immobilized him when they heard you coming." Hermione bit her lip and looked at Draco just as the memory Dumbledore was addressing the memory Draco above them.

Good evening, Draco.

"That's how he knew," Draco said more to himself. "He didn't mention how he knew what was said up here, and I know I would have seen him. I knew Dumbledore was talking to someone else."

"Harry doesn't like to to be public knowledge he has such an outstanding invisibility cloak," Hermione clarified. She didn't see any reason to let Draco know it was the invisibility cloak.

At that moment the memory Albus Dumbledore was continuing to talk to Draco's memory self.

Draco, Draco you are not a killer.

How do you know? You don't know what I'm capable of, you don't know what I've done!

Draco watched the scene play out, having climbed out of the small hiding place. He and Hermione were standing right beside his memory self, facing the very ill former headmaster. Draco had the opportunity to examine his own memories, of course. Pensieves were exceedingly expensive so obviously the Malfoy's had several. Draco had the means but he could never bring himself to watch this scene again. Looking at his memory self Draco realized he had locked this memory up so tight that he didn't think he would ever visit it again.

His first emotion was anger. Burning, white-hot anger at Hermione for digging up one of Draco's darkest hours and parading it in front of him under the guise of helping him, helping them. Draco wanted to give himself over to that anger, the rage that kept him going for so long. But...that rational part of his brain began to work overtime. Hermione Granger was not a vindictive soul. She had every right to be but she brought him here almost to...heal him. Draco tore his eyes away from the memory before them and looked at Hermione, expecting him to be looking at him. She was looking at him, only she was looking at the Draco that was a few years younger and a couple bodies short a murderer.

Hermione stared at the exchange between the memory Dumbledore and Draco with tears silently streaming down her cheeks. This wasn't the first time she saw the scene play out, but it was the first time she was able to literally compare a sixteen year old boy against an eighteen year old man who aged so dramatically in the span of two short years that Hermione was surprised he was able to laugh at all. The sixteen year old in the memory, explaining to the already-dying Dumbledore (although Draco did not realize it at the time) how clever he was to sneak in the Deatheaters, all the while his wand arm at the ready and shaking violently...Hermione could barely stand it. The present Draco seemed to be fixed on Dumbledore, but Hermione could not tear her eyes away from his sixteen year-old self. His hair was longer then, flying in his face more than it was today. While his wand arm shook violently Hermione couldn't recall the last time she saw Malfoy really ruffled, even when he was facing the Maliceptor. Draco's sixteen year old self still looked like a child, like a school boy, Hermione didn't notice the lines around her Draco's eyes and forehead, worry lines that manifested rapidly on such a young person until she compared him to this memory.

Yeah, well, you didn't realize who was behind that stuff, did you?

As a matter of fact, I did. I was sure it was you.

Why didn't you stop me, then?

I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch on you on my orders.

He hasn't been doing my orders, he promised my mother-

Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but

He's a double agent, you stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!

"Pay attention," Hermione's soft voice broke through the memory.

"I was there, Granger," Draco fought to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Physically, I suppose," Hermione amended. "But you didn't believe him. You didn't understand. Harry didn't either, not for another year.

"Cut the cryptic shit Granger," Draco was keeping his temper in check, but only barely.

"Pay attention!"

Of course, Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?

Got there at last, have you?

Hermione watched Draco to be sure he was paying attention. Draco's gaze was focused on Dumbledore, as his past self was.

Tell me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all methods of communication in and out of the school monitored.

Enchanted coins. I had one and she had the other and I could send her messages.

Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore?s Army used last year?

Yeah, I got the idea from them. I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the Mudblood Granger, as well, I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognizing potions?

Present Draco couldn't help but flinch and the words he so easily uttered only a few short months ago. He glanced at Hermione but it didn't even look like she registered it. It made the present Draco feel a deep ache when he understood that Hermione had already watched this scene play out. She expected this of him.

There is little time, one way or another, so let us discuss your options, Draco

My options! I'm standing here with a wand – I'm about to kill you -

Hermione felt another tear slide down her cheek. She didn't move to wipe it away, she felt any movement at all would dissolve the scene before her even though she knew it wouldn't. She was suddenly feeling so guilty, so unbearably guilty for forcing Draco to relive this...but what choice did she have?

I haven't got any options! I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!

I appreciate the difficulty of your situation, why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I know that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized I suspected you.

Hermione finally brushed her tears away, welcoming new ones.

I can help you, Draco.

No, you can't, nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice.

Draco, years ago I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you.

Hermione knew what was coming and she braced herself. There was nothing she hated more about viewing memories, or even time traveling, that being unable to intervene. Every cell in her body screamed at her to put a stop to this, right this wrong, but she couldn't. Hermione understood that. Hermione tried to embrace it like a lesson learned but she would never be able to accept it completely. These wrongs that played out in front of her paraded about like a bad film. There was nothing she could do to stop the killer from bursting through the door at the unsuspecting victim. She had to watch and she had to fully understand. Logic was always on Hermione's side, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She knew it was coming, but she still flinched when Fenrir Greyback came upon the scene and grinned while Dumbledore managed to take it all in stride.

Yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live.

I didn't, I didn't know he was going to come-

Wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Not when there are throats to be ripped out. Delicious, delicious- I could do you for afters, Dumbledore.

Hermione didn't give Greyback the opportunity to continue, or any Deatheater, she grabbed Draco and brought him back to the present, leaving Harry's memory behind them.

"What the HELL Granger?" Draco was as close to tears as he was in the tower. The anger was still splashing against him but the real feeling of hurt and betrayal was too close behind to form another sentence.

"He knew a boy," Hermione said with tears streaking down her face. Didn't you ever wonder who that boy was?"

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, still floored from the memory. He felt more grounded now that he was in a familiar place, and wasn't planning on rising up to anymore of Hermione's memory jumping again.

"It was Severus Snape," Hermione's words cut Draco like a knife. "It was Snape. You were right, obviously the world knows that Snape was always a double agent. It took Harry all of thirty seconds to process it but it was Snape. Snape was Dumbledore's until the end."

"I still think that's bullshit," Draco said venomously. "Potter just wanted his teacher's memory to be at peace, that's why he told the court he was a double agent, a hero. It's what do-gooder Gryffindors do." Draco was in no mood to fuck around with politically correct adjectives and stories. Potter felt bad for Severus and he did the best he could. Draco didn't se how this fabrication had anything to do with him.

"Severus loved Harry's mother," Hermione said a calm resolve and fresh tears trailing down her cheeks. "It went so much deeper than Gryffindor and Slytherin, Draco. It had nothing to do with Harry's honor. Severus loved Lily, and lost her to his prejudice against all Muggleborns in general. That's why Harry, Ron, and I fought so hard for Severus's name to be cleared. He wasn't just a double agent for Voldemort. He was a double agent for Dumbledore because Voldemort killed the only person that ever mattered to him. He loved Lily, but somewhere along the line he messed it up, he broke their friendship beyond repair. It was such an adolescent mistake, but there it was. Sometimes you can't undo the words you say.

"What did he say, Granger?"

"He called her a Mudblood, Draco," Hermione said apologetically. There's so much more I want to show you, but he told her he didn't need the help of a Mudblood and so it was. Harry's father was a popular bully. I didn't ask these memories of Harry to glorify my heritage or cast either of his parents in a bad light but his father was a bully. James loved Lily, but he also abhorred anyone whom he thought could stand in the way, including Severus Snape. Snape continued to love Lily beyond what propaganda told him. He loved Lily enough to come to Dumbledore the night Voldemort tried to kill Harry all that time ago. He loved loved Lily with a reckless abandon that made Harry an easy target when Harry was a student. He loved Lily until the day he died. He loved Lily until he gave Harry all the memories he had of her."

Hermione's tears were streaming down her face in such a manor that she couldn't control. Perhaps the most tragic love story would have been between Severus and Lily, if only Severus had had the strength to make it so. This was the love story Hermione fell upon when she thought of Draco. Of course he was a wonderful gentleman when they were in public, or even together in private. Draco wanted to restore his family name and the only way to do it was to be (or pretend to be) a friend of the Muggle-Borns. Hermione was not stupid. Beyond that Hermione was not easily influenced by expensive liquor or even tuition. She knew before anyone had the occasion to say it that she would be welcome in Hogwarts as a student or even a teacher without any scholarship being called into account. She was embarrassed over the means at first, but not the situation. Hermione was sad her parents didn't register what Hermione gave to the world. For months Hermione wondered if the suffering was worth anything at all. She wondered if anyone of any prejudice would notice. The thing that axed her theory was that Draco seemed to hate her at first, he blamed her for every ill that had befallen him in the past year. If Draco was out for revenge or even a little positive press..would he have invited her here?

"I thought you deserved to know," Hermione continued when Draco didn't say anything. When Dumbledore looked at you he saw Severus. He truly did want to help."

"And I let Snape kill him," Draco whispered.

"He was already dying, Draco," Hermione told him. "He was cursed, he wasn't going to survive the year. That's why Severus agreed in the first place. He didn't like it, but rather die at the end of a friend's wand than an enemy's. Any other Deatheater probably would have took their time with Crucio or something else just as sick. Severus saved you that task because he knew it was the best way."

"Why are you even bothering with this, Granger?" Draco finally demanded with some defeat.

"Because I can tell you still harbor a lot of hurt," Hermione caught his gaze and held on. "You still blame yourself and it's not right. You don't think you can change, that you're stuck with the decisions made by a scared sixteen year old boy. I want you to understand the whole picture, I want to help you like you've helped me. I think you deserve the whole truth about everything, not just what the public got to hear because you lived it just as much as I did."

"In case you didn't notice, Granger," Draco said quietly. "I was fighting on the other side."

"What did you say about shit hands, Draco?" Hermione countered. "You did the best with what you were dealt. Now I want you to see the whole story, will you let me show you?"

"You don't leave much room for argument," Draco said wearily. "What next?"

Hermione smiled triumphantly and gathered the spent memory back into the vial and replaced it with another.

"Allow me to show you the beginning of the end of Voldemort," Hermione told him. "That which he never understood, love."

(A/N) This is the chapter that would. not. end. It's approximately 2k words longer than my average chapter length, so sorry it took a bit longer than normal to post. I had to do a lot of double checking with some things for continuity's sake. I thought I'd get these memory scenes cranked out in one chapter, but it's looking like it might take another one or two chapters to get it all out there. I enjoyed writing the memories from a Dramione perspective, and I hope you enjoy reading them =) As always, find me on Tumblr as arielxwriter if you want an update or just want to see if I'm making any progress whatsoever. Feel free to pm me, too! I know my updating is not timely but I'd rather sit on a chapter for awhile and tweak it until I'm happy before I publish something I'm not crazy about. And, of course, please review! It's the crack of the writers!