Enjoy!
***
Draco was stunned.
Disappointment washed over him in rapid waves, with anger being its successor. His body was getting stiff and he needed to walk off his tension. Hoisting himself up to a standing position, his bruised body was screaming at him which fueled his irritation further.
Draco watched Hermione grip her wand. Did she think he was going to kill her? Draco couldn’t help but smile at the ludicrousness of the current situation. After everything that had happened the last year, this is how it had culminated? He watched Hermione watch him wearily, awaiting his next move. That was it. He couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“I always knew you were a smart girl,” he paused to take a breath - his last ditch effort to remain calm. His heart was racing and sweat glistened on his forehead.
“But sometimes you can be such a fool! Are you not paying attention to anything that has happened to you the past few days?!?”
Draco wiped his forehead with his tattered sleeve and rapidly brushed his hair out of his eyes. He looked back at Hermione.
Hermione’s eyes widened and the bruises on her face paled, but he couldn’t stop – she had to hear this.
“After weasel face tramps through here and tells you that he loves you, yells, and leaves, you think that I am in cohorts with HIM!?! Why wouldn’t I have left with him? Why would I subject myself to such squalor if I hadn’t been forced? Do you think that I enjoy being locked here in the astronomy tower, the very place that haunts my dreams and makes my life a living nightmare?? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHY I WAS PUT HERE?”
He was pacing now and from the corner of his eye he caught sight of Hermione, whom had stopped breathing at this point. Plastered to the support beam, she watched him unblinking, pale, and speechless. He saw her minutely shake her head.
“As for Harry, I sure hope to God he will bring reinforcement, and that he hasn’t chosen martyrdom. This was no set up Hermione. Mark my words; I would never purposely harm him now.”
Draco felt flushed, short of breath, and soaked with sweat, but it felt good. It meant he was alive. He looked over the side of the tower and began to speak again in a hushed tone.
“I never wanted Dumbledore to die. I never wanted to do any of those things our sixth year. At first Voldemort said I would be more famous than Harry; I lapped up everything he said like a mongrel. He knew what would drive me. My first death would activate the dark mark he gave me. If I didn’t kill someone then I would only receive sporadic messages.”
Draco raised his left arm in front of him and traced the markings with his fingers. “I soon realized that my assignments were only meant to seal my fate. My death was to be my father’s punishment for mishandling the prophecy. I never wanted to kill Dumbledore.”
Draco grabbed a hold of the rope and let his head fall to his chest and tears fell from his eyes. He kept his back towards Hermione.
“Dumbledore knew I wanted to be saved. He said he could do it for me. I was a coward and a fool. I stood there and watched him die.”
He turned to Hermione with bloodshot eyes.
“I initially hated Snape for doing it. Harry thought that he held the most hatred for that man. I am pretty sure I could have rivaled him. My plan was to kill Snape and then myself. I would finally be put out of my misery. Snape was a genius. Much to my dismay, he was able to defend himself from the onslaught of spells and talk some sense into me. Dumbledore had been dying and had asked Snape to kill him. He had known that I didn’t have it in me. Dumbledore would not have been able to save me, but had entrusted Snape to take care of me.”
“I began to meet with Snape frequently to receive updates on the war. He instructed me to do as I was told by my elders and to give no insight as to my change of heart. Harry was the only one able to win the War and we had to let him. It was bloody agonizing. To watch you three at the mansion… to see your pain. When the battle ensued at Hogwarts, my mistake almost killed Harry, and yet he still saved me. I owe my life to him.”
Draco began pacing again, his hands folded behind his head.
He heard a small, but strong voice from the far corner of platform.
“So why are you telling me all this Draco? Most importantly, why are you here now?”
He turned to Hermione. She had straightened herself up. She never loses that confidence of hers, he thought to himself. Sometimes it gets down right annoying, but in this case he was glad that she was not scared. This gave him the assurance to continue. He had promised Snape, not fully believing he would ever go through with it. If they were awaiting their deaths, it was no use to keep it a secret now.
“I guess I might as well tell you, but it might be easier to show you. First, have you heard of ‘Temple of the Eye’?”
***
At one time, Hermione had thought she had it all figured out. Draco was born evil, groomed evil, and grew up evil, which is what she had always thought. Right? Perhaps she had a voice inside of her that had felt Draco might just be normal, allotted good decisions and bad ones. But that had been a little voice.
Perhaps she had been foolish, accusing him of the probability of torturing her. He had been tame while working with her at the Ministry of Magic. He admitted to saving her from the explosion and had even convinced her to leave St. Mungo’s with him before an impending invasion. Most importantly, she had trusted him. So maybe it had been a big voice inside of her that had rooted for Draco.
She was somewhat relieved to hear that she could be proven wrong. After his heart wrenching story, she was embarrassed for accusing him of such vicious actions. Then again, if Ron had turned bad – she still had to hear the full story of why he had turned good.
“So why are you telling me all this Draco? Most importantly, why are you here now?” She heard herself say. She was impressed for her own continuing audacity.
“I guess I might as well tell you, but it might be easier to show you. First, have you heard of ‘Temple of the Eye’?”
Her eyebrows flew up. ‘The Temple of the Eye’ had been the spell that the minister had used on her to see the events of the past few days.
“I have,” was all that she could get out.
“I should have known,” Draco chuckled and rolled his eyes and walked up to her.
“I will gather a series of memories for you to view. As you probably know, one is unable to alter memories through this spell. It is easier for the caster to view a single memory by him or herself, however as there are multiple ones, I will bring them to the forefront and you will sift through them that way.”
“And how do I sift…?”
“They will all be together. Much like a video, you will just view each one and they will start and end on their own. When there are no further memories, it will end. I am surprised that you have heard about the spell. Usually they only use it during the very serious cases in the high court. Quite often, the people this spell is cast upon end up guilty – so the spell does not “get around.”
Hermione looked at Draco in the eyes and simply spoke, “It was cast on me.”
While Draco stood there, frozen momentarily, she did not wait for him to continue. She was very curious to see what he wanted to show her.
“Where do you want me to draw the symbol?”
He pointed to their feet and Hermione grasped her wand tightly in her hand and cast a simple etching spell on the floor. When the triangle was complete, she looked back at Draco.
“Draco, are you sure you want to do this?”
He nodded, no longer making eye contact. He knelt to the ground and placed his hand in the center of the triangles. She placed her hand on top of his, immediately noticing the dampness of his hand and the quickness of his pounding pulse. Was he nervous?
He raised his gray eyes to hers and gave a weak smile. Hermione immediately returned the smile. She was intrigued, not only by what she would soon encounter but by the new side of Draco that she had failed to take heed.
“Go ahead Hermione.”
Hermione nodded. Thank goodness she had an amazing memory. It was for moments like these that she was grateful.
Incanting the spell exactly as it had been spoken to her, the words drifted from her mouth.
“Verum mens, verum somes, verum animus. Moments narro totus. Ostendo Mihi.”
After she spoke the last word, her vision blurred and she awaited the first memory.
***
Hermione held her breath as the first memory, much like shattered glass catching the sun’s rays, glittered into focus.
She was seated at a dark mahogany table with Lucius seated across from her. He was studying a piece of parchment with his face drawn into a frown. She could feel her heart throbbing in her chest, only she didn’t know why. This spell allowed her to be in Draco’s body instead of watching as a third person, a quite peculiar feeling.
“You do know what this means don’t you?” Lucius spoke from behind the parchment.
“… that I received near perfect marks father?” Hermione felt the voice come from her mouth. She was looking down at her small hands and a book they had for second year potions.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione saw the dark gray eyes of Draco’s father study her for a moment.
“No son, this means that you let a filthy mudblood make better marks then you.” His voice was cold, but his look was threatening.
Hermione was not expecting this comment. It appeared as if Lucius was making a reference to her.
“But father, I tried. She is very smart and studies all of the time!”
“Which means that you should study harder. You are a Malfoy, not a commoner, and certainly not a mudblood! Ten lashes and to your room without tea for a week!”
“But father, it is Christmas break!”
“Do you want me to make it dinner too?” Lucius spoke through his teeth.
“No, father.”
Hermione felt saddened by this interaction. She had always had such happy memories of her family, who never expected her to have high marks. Here, this young boy was getting reprimanded just because she had done slightly better than him. Hermione had always thought that there had been a strong bond between Draco and his father.
As quick as the recollection had come about, it faded into darkness as Hermione awaited the meaning to this and the memories to follow.
***
Hermione almost became panicked as she lingered in what appeared to be memory limbo – complete darkness.
Waiting for the bright glittery image she had seen just a few moments before, Hermione felt a strong slap across her face and she staggered. Her eyes thrust open and she found herself outside on the grounds of Hogwarts, facing a younger version of herself, Harry, and Ron.
She had not been expecting to see herself. Astonished, Hermione instinctively tried to walk towards this young bushy haired girl but the body she was in did not budge. Draco’s body did not budge. She had to remember this very important detail.
“Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul… you evil...” She heard the younger version of herself say.
Hermione had almost forgotten about this exchange which had occurred several years before. Why did Draco feel that this was important? She had slapped him!
“Hermione!” said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back. The very essence of fear was radiating off of the prepubescent red haired boy’s face.
“Get off, Ron!”
The young girl pulled out her wand. Hermione felt Draco step backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at her for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.
“C'mon,” she heard herself mutter, and in a moment, all three of them were heading back into the passageway to the dungeons.
“Draco, why did you let the mudblood treat you that way? You could have easily sent her, Ginger, and Potter running. Could’a shown them who’s boss.” Crabbe hissed as soon as they were under the cover of darkness. Hermione felt the body she was in become angry. She turned on her heal and drew her wand at the chubby boy that was struggling to keep up.
“Don’t you DARE call her MUDBLOOD! She is ONE HUNDRED TIMES SMARTER THAN YOU WILL EVER BE!” The wand she was holding was now pinned in the skin at Crabbe’s temple.
“Draco, but – but you call her mudblood all of the time,” Goyle stuttered.
“I DON’T CARE. Now leave me the hell alone before I extinguish your bloody asses.”
Hermione was flabbergasted. Draco had defended her in front of his friends, after she had clearly embarrassed him. Shaking off any lurking ideas that were highly unlikely, smoke began to cloud the corners of her vision.
***
Hermione felt like she was suffocating. Wishing she could cough and wave the smoke away, it finally began to clear.
“Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?” She felt herself say. She could feel a sneer on her face, but also felt a wave of fear. Fear that wasn’t hers.
She saw a slightly older version of herself, Harry, and Ron. They were at Quidditch World Cup during the attacks.
Draco nodded at younger Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them. She felt Draco’s body flinch and become panicked. The expression she sensed on Draco’s never wavered, however.
“What's that supposed to mean?” the younger Hermione shouted at her defiantly.
Hermione felt Draco pause. “Granger, they're after Muggles.” “D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around. . . they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”
“Hermione's a witch,” Harry snarled.
“Have it your own way, Potter,” she said, gave a large grin despite her heart that was racing. “If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.”
Hermione had never even contemplated this conversation to have any other significance then the immature rudeness that she had remembered. Was Draco warning her?
“You watch your mouth!” shouted Ron.
“Never mind, Ron,” said the younger Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy.
“Oh come on,” said younger Hermione, and shot Malfoy a disgusted look, “let's go and find the others.”
“Keep that big bushy head down, Granger.”
After the familiar group disappeared into the brush, Draco sat down and let out a big sigh.
Hermione waited for the memory to fade away, but it didn’t come. The smoke was still thick in the air and Draco, including herself, was having difficulty breathing.
Draco glanced over the destruction. Hermione watched as fires were burning, spells flying, and people were running for their lives. She saw a man in Death Eater’s garb turn and stare in her direction after suspending a mother and child in a mid air scream. He dropped his wand, and the two came crashing to the ground. The Death Eater had caught sight of her sitting at the edge of the trees.
“DRACO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST SITTING THERE?!?”
Hermione had once again forgotten that she was Draco.
The man began quickly walking to her and she felt her head drop.
Hermione couldn’t make out the voice behind the mask.
“I almost got hit by a bloody spell! I am not you yet – nor have the ability to protect myself. The Dark Lord surely does not expect me to be participating in this nonsense.” She felt herself fuming, but did not make eye contact with the man.
“You were given a direct order Draco! You should not be sitting unless you had managed to capture Potter and his friends! Would you prefer me to let the Dark Lord know that you will no longer be doing his bidding, and for him to plan your date to die – I would get moving. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?
Draco nodded one time and stood up and began to skirt the forest, the opposite direction in which the trio had just left.
Hermione had difficulty processing this information. How had she not seen this side of Draco? Harry had despised Draco almost as much as he hated Voldemort. Had these feelings poisoned her judgment of the blond haired boy? ‘He had just called me mudblood, how was I supposed to know all of this that had happened after we left?’ she reminded herself.
Was this it? Hermione wondered. In the distance, she could hear music playing. As the smell of devastation and destruction cleared from her nostrils, the memory glimmered to a more joyous setting.
***
Hermione attempted to blink in the darkened room, but was unsuccessful.
She watched as Draco smoothed out his perfectly pressed dress suit and glanced around at hundreds of fellow students that Hermione recognized. They were all looking towards what appeared to be Hogwarts grand staircase, and Draco quickly turned to see what everyone was focused on.
It took a few moments, but Hermione soon identified herself descending the grand staircase with Krum at Hogwarts, making their way to the Yule Ball.
Was this what many had been watching? No, there were students making their way before her and behind her, surely she had not been the center of attention. Draco, however, was clearly watching her. She felt his heart leap (didn’t realize that was even possible) and she would be blushing right now, if that was even possible either.
Her billowy purple dress fell behind her as she appeared to float down the grand staircase. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she scanned the crowd. Watching this moment again, from another perspective, was very entertaining.
Lowering her head slightly, she looked directly at Draco through her long dark eye lashes. Hermione felt Draco tense up and maintain eye contact.
A light blush began to form on the younger Hermione’s cheeks as she looked towards Krum, repositioning herself in his arms as they made their way down through the great hall.
‘Oh God. I had blushed in front of him!’ Hermione thought frantically. Draco had also looked quite dapper that evening and Hermione had attributed the brief attraction that she had felt to teenage hormones and the exhilaration of the evening. She had successfully blocked that blunder from her conscious memory, until now.
As the crowds began to close in behind the younger Hermione, she felt a strong blow to her stomach. Pansy Parkinson had just smacked her in the gut.
She doubled over and felt herself gasp. “Why the hell did you do that woman??” She heard Draco speak painfully.
Why did these memories leave her embarrassed and in pain? Ugh!
Hermione watched as Pansy rolled her eyes.
“I was afraid the mudblood had cast a spell on you! You should have seen yourself; you were practically drooling on my shoes! I am sure your father wouldn’t appreciate you having taken a liking upon Miss Granger.”
“Shut your mouth!” Draco hissed and stood upright, once again straightening out his very expensive suit. “You have no right to speak to me that way Parkinson. You don’t know my father, nor do you know me, to speak with such disrespect. I did you a favor taking your sniveling face to this dance when I had the option to go with anyone in our house. Don’t you forget it!”
Pansy took a step back and eyed him warily.
Hermione felt Draco offer his arm to Pansy.
“Very well. Any more snide comments and you’ll be spending all your time as Crabbe’s new girlfriend. I just hope he doesn’t get too hungry – he might mistake you for food.”
She felt herself chuckle and walk through the great hall with the rest of the crowd, quickly glancing and finding the younger version of herself waiting to be announced with Krum. She felt an uneasy feeling come from Draco’s stomach.
Was Draco trying to show her, through these memories, that he had feelings for her? Hermione was beginning to feel antsy. What would she say to him when these remembrances were over? How much more was there?
***
Hermione was once again in a darkened room, only this time there was no sound of the ball. She was sitting on the edge of a very soft bed. Draco was looking down at the floor, tears blurring his eyes. Hermione wished Draco would dry his face so she could see more.
There was a soft knock at the door about six feet to the left, and Draco stood, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his black shirt.
“I’m coming.” Draco spoke with a low voice and grabbed his wand that had been set behind him.
They were in a very large room, with what appeared to be black walls. As Draco grabbed his wand from the plush blankets of the four poster bed, Hermione could make out a window with its curtains drawn and two high back chairs facing each other.
Draco slowly walked to the door and opened it to a surprisingly showered Snape.
Snape took showers? Who knew?
“Snape.” Draco lowered his head to the tall man and ushered him in. Snape’s black hair, muted in the shadows, swayed silently with his traveling cloak as he rushed in.
Hermione felt Draco’s face redden and his blood pressure rise. He closed the door softly and turned. Draco now had his wand raised shaking, aimed at Snape who had positioned himself beside one of the chairs on the opposite side of the room.
This must be the encounter with Snape Draco had spoken about before this spell had been cast.
“I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to kill Dumbledore. I don’t want to be a Death Eater. I don’t want to be me.” Draco’s whispering cracked. Snape watched him silently, without a hint of an expression.
Draco swung his wand upward, twisted it with force, and then finding his aim at Snape’s chest, yelled, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”
Snape knew it was coming and deflected the green light with a flick of his wrist. The spell hit one of the bed posts and sent it flying into a wooden chest that was against the wall.
Draco tried again, “STUPEFY!”
Snape once again deflected the spell, sending the red jet of light off to his right, burning a hole through the wall paper.
Hermione wished she could just watch this encounter from the corner of the room rather than in Draco’s body.
“EXPULSO!!” This time Draco aimed at the chair beside Snape, perhaps hoping to hit him with some flying debris.
The professor dove to the left, barely missing the chunks of wood flying in all directions.
Draco also tried to shield himself from the debris, but was hit in the chest with the heavy leg of the chair. Hermione felt herself collapse to the floor.
“Just kill me.” Draco begged with a heavy voice. Hermione almost agreed to this sentiment for a brief second.
“I would be much happier dead than alive.” Draco was laying on his back with his closed his eyes.
“Get up.” Snape spoke carefully. Draco didn’t move.
“Draco, Get up. I am not going to kill you.”
Draco opened his eyes and watched the professor walk over to him. Snape offered his hand and Draco took it and staggered to a standing position.
“I see myself in you Draco.”
Hermione felt a new wave of anger course through Draco’s body.
“I am nothing like you.” He spit at Snape’s shoes and scowled in his face.”
“Those were clean.” Snape spoke carefully, drawing out his words as he inspected his no longer shiny shoes.
“As I have just spared you your life, I feel as if you owe it to me to spare a few of your new-found minutes. Please.” Snape gestured for Draco to sit on the bed. Hermione felt Draco comply and fall slack on the down comforter.
“Things are not as they appear, Draco.” Snape walked over to a large mahogany dresser on the opposite wall of the bed. He picked up a picture frame of the Malfoy family and inspected it for a few moments. Placing it face down, Snape retrieved his wand from his pocket and aimed it at the door. Hermione assumed that he used a silent spell – one of Snape’s specialties.
Snape turned back to Draco and began to play with his wand in his fingers.
“You have mastered occlumency very well, Draco, I am quite impressed.”
Draco never wavered in his stare and remained silent.
“Yet, when you are scared – such as the night when Dumbledore died – you falter. I know you didn’t want him to die, Draco. Nor did I.”
“YOU LIAR!” The sudden outburst caught Hermione by surprise. She had been absorbing every word in this interaction, waiting for an additional meaning to this conversation – why Draco felt it was necessary to share this encounter after explaining it to her in detail… in person.
Draco had jumped up from the bed and was now snarling at Snape.
Unmoved by the sudden commotion from his companion, Snape gestured for him to sit back down again.
“Sit. Sit. I will return tonight, at half past three in the orchard to explain more. But first I must tell you three things. One, you must not act out, as this is not your war to fight. This was Dumbledore’s final wish for you. If you want to repent for your improper actions against him, then you must respect his last wishes. Two, your life has only just begun – do not waste it by attempting to end it. It is, I fear, too late for me – but not too late for you. Dumbledore saw good in you as he did in me. Do not question his judgment. You can lead a good life if you start now. Finally, you must tell her. Your life will only be filled with regret if you continue to repress your true feelings. Witches with muggle blood accept much more than you would think. Do not make the same mistakes that I have made.”
As Snape turned to leave, Hermione felt Draco struggle speak.
“Who… who must I .. tell?”
Snape turned his head slightly to the right.
“The very one you are thinking about right now.”
Hermione watched in shock. Her blood ran cold as a sense of realization flowed through her veins. This is the reason he was showing her all of this. This is what he had promised Snape.
***
Hermione didn’t even notice the change in scenery as she was too caught up in her own head.
As she became more coherent, she recognized the new room they were in as the Wizengamot. Her job at the ministry was to eradicate pure blood laws, and more often than not, she ended up here for the final decision of the high court.
Draco was sitting in a large wooden chair, the focal point of scores of circular rows of chairs, cascading up the steep stone aisles of the dungeon.
Hermione noticed that Draco was breathing rapidly. His arms were balled into fists on the arm rests. He looked quickly side to side underneath his silvery blonde hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, taking in the two to three rows of wizards and witches in front of him. All, with the exception of a few to the right side of Draco's periphery, were wearing plum-colored robes embroidered with a silver "W" on the left-hand side of the chest.
Was this his closed trial that no one would speak of? She knew Harry had come back to attend Draco’s hearing, but would not utter a word of it, claiming it wasn’t very interesting.
Draco's head quickly turned back to the group that stood out. Aurors. Harry.
Hermione watched as Draco made eye contact with Harry, who was giving him a cold, steely stare in return. There were five additional aurors sitting next to him, all in their black traveling coats, whispering among themselves. Draco looked back in front of him and watched as Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt gathered his papers and nodded to the two other high officials on either side of him.
"I would like to call the court reconvened and back to order," the minister broke the uneasy murmurings of the room.
He continued, "As everyone understands, although it serves as a reminder, this court meeting is a closed session, and all information here is STRICTLY confidential for all parties concerned."
Maybe this hearing had been interesting, especially since Harry couldn’t speak about it, by law.
"The information that Draco has shown to the court is very, very intriguing. For his safety as well as his request, those actions that proceed the meeting will not have any tie to him."
Hermione watched Kingsley intently. With sweat coursing down Draco's temples, she felt him move to undo the top button of his shirt. The minister redirected his attention to Draco, who nodded.
"Draco, it takes a courageous man to stand against his own flesh and blood. With such an insurmountable request, it would have been very simple to aid your father in his endeavors. Through what you have shown us here this evening, your memories and experiences depict the very essence of human change and that good can prevail. I am extremely proud of you."
Hermione’s mind was racing, once again. This wasn’t a trial per say, why was Draco here?
Draco watched the minister with no further acknowledgment. Hermione felt Harry's cold stare, but Draco did not break his stoic facade, although his inner workings were telling a vastly different story.
"Because we broke shortly after we completed viewing all you wanted to share, I did not get a chance to clarify a few points that I feel must be made. If you don't mind..."
"No, go ahead." Draco cut the minister off, speaking in a strong, yet soft voice.
"Very well." The minister looked down at a few papers in front of him and paused.
"You understand that by agreeing to share this evidence, we have the right to charge your father, Lucius Malfoy, with multiple charges including, but not limited to: attempted kidnapping, attempted murder
and conspiracy to commit a crime..."
Draco had turned in his father! Hermione would have gasped, if she had had the ability anyway. Why had Draco kept all of this to himself? She felt miserable for him, that he had lived with such misfortune, such sadness. She would have never guessed with his tough exterior. He could have had everything going for him, if he had just grown up in another family. He could have been more like… Harry. Hermione cut her thoughts short. Both of them had good qualities and bad. Harry was not perfect. If only she had known. But what, exactly, would she have done with this information?
"I understand." Draco spoke sharply and quickly.
"Although you wear the Dark Mark, to the best of your knowledge, you cannot communicate with it."
"No. As explained to me, the Dark Mark only becomes fully operational when one has taken someone's blood – killed them. When my father reactivated the Marks, I don't believe he got the magic completely right - so I can receive bits and pieces of communication between those using it. I do not get consistent messages with Dark Mark. It causes me pain more than anything."
Draco turned his left arm and showed it to the council. Silent for a few moments, he stared down at the snake shifting underneath his skin.
"No I can't "call" anyone." He muttered.
“Thank you Mr. Malfoy.” Kingsley looked back down at his sheet of paper. The man to the left of the minister in a full white curly wig whispered to the minister and then cleared his throat. He wore the badge that read “Senior Undersecretary” and was a short and stubby little man, with wide pudgy fingers.
"If I could ask Mr. Malfoy a few more questions?"
Not waiting for a response from Malfoy, the man continued.
"When you initially found out that your father wanted to continue to practice the views of Voldemort's reign, you did not act. When you discovered that Lucius had completed multiple inquiries of the whereabouts of Harry Potter in order to cause him harm, as he blamed him for the downfall of Voldemort, you did not act. It was only when your father asked you to assist him in the murders of Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasly, and Ms. Granger that you came to us. And, through your memories, this was because of the feelings you felt for Ms. Granger?"
Draco slammed his fist on the chair.
"MINISTER! I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST POTTER OR WEASLEY. THIS WAS NOT MY PURPOSE HERE TONIGHT!”
"Mr. Malfoy, we will not tolerate shouting in my court. Mr. Linus only wants to get the facts straight. I am correct in this matter, right William?"
The minister looked at the pudgy, little man who nodded quickly.
"Beg your pardon, Minister." Draco was still seething. Hermione felt him leap from the chair.
"But I am here, aren't I? I am NOT on stand here to determine if I am innocent or guilty. Yes, I did know that my father continued to share the same sentiments as he had before the war. Did I think he was going to go after Harry? Perhaps. I do believe that Harry can take care of himself, as shown with his continued excellence as an auror. Do I have feelings for Hermione? How is that relevant?"
Draco sat back down and put his forehead in his hands.
"Perhaps the feelings motivated me to come here." He said quietly.
Draco looked up at Harry as if he was speaking directly to him. "I never want her to know about my true feelings. I was not man enough to stand up for her during the war, but perhaps I could do it now. She does not deserve the likes of me, and I have come to an understanding with that. I want to ensure that my father never hurts anyone else, including Potter, Weasley, or Hermione. Voldemort ruined a generation of lives and we cannot have my father ruin another. Please use my information to take him into custody."
Hermione’s own heart fluttered. Draco had turned his own father in for her. For her! What would she say to Draco when all of this was done? Her perception of him had altered before this spell, but now all perceptions and notions were a blurred mess. What would she do now? She had too many questions, and not enough answers.
Minister Shacklebolt nodded again. "Thank you Draco for your wealth of information. I think that is all
the information we need to continue. I wanted to let you know that by allowing us to see all the intimate details of your choice to side against all that is dark, we feel confident in our decision as to remove the bar against being able to be hired within the ministry. It is standard protocol to block all those that had previously consorted with Lord Voldemort from working within the walls of the ministry as they can plague the freshly healing framework of our administration. It is my pleasure to let you know that there is a job for you if you would like it."
Hermione felt Draco's mouth drop slightly.
"Anything. I would be extremely grateful." Draco spoke solemnly.
Hermione wasn't sure that Draco had been able to get any job after the Great War.
"Mr. Linus, what job have you selected for Mr. Malfoy here?" The minister once again directed his attention to the short, stubby main to the left of him.
The senior undersecretary nodded and smirked slightly.
"Ah yes, here it is. We have a job open for you as an apprentice in the department of law enforcement. You will be working to eradicate pure blood laws."
“THIS IS RIDICULOUS! Hermione works in that bloody office!”
All heads turned to the auror who had jumped out of his seat, with the exception of the blonde hair man sitting in the center of the room.
The minister, whom had raised his eyebrows slightly at the placement suggestion, showed no other expression by this outburst.
“Mr. Potter,” the minister began. “I believe Draco won’t be causing any mischief or ill will towards Ms. Granger. Please don’t make me regret having you sit in.”
The minister looked back up at Draco.
“This is our offer. Do you wish to accept?”
With some hesitation, Draco finally spoke in a voice slightly louder than a whisper.
“I do.”
***
Hermione almost thought that the myriad of memories had ceased and she was back at the tower. She looked around for Draco, not knowing what she would begin with, but found her head still fixed. Lord! How many more memories were there? She was already very anxious at the impending words with the blond haired boy.
The sun was brightly shinning through the tower and she could hear a large bird twittering beside her. She could feel the warm breeze cascading through the trees, causing the roof to shift slightly.
As her vision came more into focus she noticed that she was writing a note. Well not her, Draco.
She saw her name, but this was all that had been written at the time.
He had written the note!
Hermione waited as his strong hands delicately inscribed the letter that she had anonymously received only a few days earlier. And she had thought Ron had written it!
As he placed his hand back down to continue his task, the sounds of the bird beside her, the wind rustling through the trees, and creaking of the roof above became muted. As fast as the vision had materialized, it began to shatter around her to nothingness.
The tower began to shift back to focus rapidly, but it was dark again. Hermione, very disoriented, was being hoisted up from the floor by two men. In the shadows she could see the man who had just shared these recollections in a heap on the floor.
“DRACO!” Hermione cried out. She hadn’t even been able to talk to him about any of this. He did not flinch. She was not sure he was even breathing
“Shut your mouth girl.”
Hermione felt a strong slap to the back of her head.
“Where are you taking me?!?” She stammered as she tried to blink away the tears that came with the pain.
“You couldn’t possibly think we would keep you up here forever? Looks like the two of you were getting along too well. Mr. Malfoy will not be pleased.”
Hermione struggled against her captors, kicking and flailing.
“There are people coming for me!. You will regret this!”
“We’ll see about that.” The course voice gave a raspy laugh.
“Everyone whom Mr. Malfoy wanted to attend tonight’s celebration has arrived. We’ve got everything we need.”
