Hermione stood in the kitchen, her mind in turmoil. It was no use; Malfoy would have to be told who he really was. He knew too much for them to hide it any more. She silently cursed Fred. If it wasn’t for him, Malfoy could still live in ignorance. Now, he would probably get his memory back and- Hang on, she thought, why does that upset me? Do I like Malfoy the way he is?. She suddenly realised that she did. Or at least, she preferred him like that to what he was normally like.
She heard loud voices outside. Looking around, she saw that everyone else had left the room. She had been so absorbed in her soul examining she hadn’t even noticed. She hurried out after them.
The bright sunlight outside reminded her painfully of her argument with Ginny earlier that day. It hurt her eyes after the dim light of inside the house. It was a moment before her eyes adjusted and she could see who was there.
Moody was standing in front of the house, talking to Harry. He had Malfoy’s arm in a firm grip. Malfoy was looking apprehensively at him. He saw Hermione and his face lit up. He motioned wildly at Moody, his eyes begging her to do something. She sighed with exasperation. He always expected her to help him. He knew her only two days and yet he trusted her implicitly. That’s sort of sweet, a little voice whispered in her head. She stopped dead in her tracks, horrified. Sweet? That was one word that should never be used anywhere near a Malfoy. But Malfoy now isn’t really Malfoy then, the voice responded. After working this out, she finally conceded. But this was only a temporary state… wasn’t it?
“Hermione!” hissed Malfoy. She immediately rushed over to Moody.
“Professor, could you let him go please?” she asked tentatively. Moody glanced at Malfoy as if he’d just remembered he was there, and released Malfoy. He leapt back, massaging his arm where Moody had had an iron grip, and smiled gratefully at Hermione.
“Hermione, over here!” She turned and saw Tonks waving at her. She waved back and walked over to her. Malfoy trailed behind her uncertainly.
“How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages!” Tonks exclaimed. She noticed Malfoy standing awkwardly behind Hermione. “And who’s this?” She winked at Hermione. “Is he your-”
“This is Draco Malfoy,” Hermione supplied quickly. Tonks thought he was her boyfriend?! Now that was a nasty thought. Weeell, the voice whispered, if you think about with the new him … She groaned internally and shut down that line of thought.
Tonks’ smile had snapped off when Hermione told her who Malfoy was. She looked at him with barely concealed dislike. Startled by such blatant hostility, he stepped back.
“So he’s the reason we’re meeting here,” Tonks mused. “We were told you’d found a young Death Eater. What potion did you give him?”
“Potion?” repeated Hermione, bewildered.
“Yes, a potion. Since he’s not trying to kill anyone or escape I presume you’ve given him something.”
“What’s a Death Eater? And why would I want to kill anyone?” Malfoy interrupted. Tonks stared at him in amazement.
“Wow, must have been a really strong potion!”
“No, no. He lost his memory. It’s a long story,” Hermione added as Tonks opened her mouth to speak, a questioning look in her eyes. Another loud crack split the air. Startled, they turned to see who the new arrival was. Tonks’ face broke into loving smile as Lupin strode towards them. He greeted them cordially before turning his attention to Malfoy. Hermione noticed that Tonks slipped her hand into his, and he made no effort to move away.
“Mr. Malfoy,” greeted Lupin politely.
“Oh… yeah… hi,” Malfoy mumbled, looking bemused at all these sudden arrivals. Lupin nodded briskly to everyone before marching into the house. Several more members of the Order Apparated in rapid succession. They waved vaguely at Hermione and Malfoy before following Lupin inside. Hermione hurried over to Harry.
“What is everyone doing here? I thought the Burrow was too suspicious to be used as a meeting place!” she hissed. Harry shrugged wearily. He still looked exhausted from his sleepless night.
“It’s to do with Malfoy. I think they’re trying to decide whether or not to tell him his life story,” he said in a tired voice. “Come on, we’d better go inside.” Hermione followed him wordlessly, Malfoy keeping close to her side.
Once inside the kitchen, Ron leapt up from the chair he was sprawled in with an outraged expression on his face.
“They won’t let us in!” he announced indignantly. “They’re discussing Malfoy - who we know best out of them - and they’ve locked us out! They even put a Repelling charm on the door so we can’t use the Extendable Ears!” Fred nodded glumly from the other side of the kitchen table.
“Disgraceful. You’d think they couldn’t trust us!” he declared. Hermione wondered how he could possibly keep such a straight face as he said this. Malfoy suddenly spoke up from behind her (he was trying to keep her between himself and the twins).
“Why are they talking about me? Are they-” He stopped abruptly and stepped forward as a thought seemed to strike him. “Am I going to find out who I am?” His pale face lit up with hope.
“Yeah, lucky you,” Ron muttered, flopping back down on a chair. Malfoy threw him a dirty look and sat down.
Time seemed to stretch on forever. No one wanted to leave, but there was absolutely nothing to do. Silence reigned supreme; even the slightest sound such as the rustling of clothes as someone changed position seemed to echo around the room. Not a murmur came from the living room, where the Order were; a Silencing Charm had apparently been placed on the door.
Hermione’s head was filled with restless thoughts. She yearned to know what the Order had decided about Malfoy. After all, he’d learnt so much already, it was pointless to keep him in the dark any longer. She turned her head and looked at him. He was slumped on the table, his head resting on his arms. She suddenly realised that she’d never actually looked properly at him before. He was just Malfoy, an obnoxious bully who did his best to make her life a misery. She studied him closely, fascinated by all the things she’d never noticed before.
He was pale of course. His hair was so blonde it was almost white. If she didn’t know better she would have thought it bleached. She suppressed a laugh at the thought of Malfoy bleaching his hair. It was long, but not in an attractive way. It hung from his face in unkempt straggly locks. As she watched, he swept it back in frustration. His face deathly white, and the bruises from the night before stood out starkly on his brow, their dark purple contrasting sharply with his nearly bloodless skin. His eyes were a light grey, but she was startled by the difference in them; they were no longer cold and unfriendly, but sincere and trusting. He caught her staring at him and tried to smile. She hurriedly glanced away until his gaze had left her. He was clearly worried, and so he should be. His future rested on the decision that was being made in the next room. He bit his lip, staring at the worn table with unseeing eyes. She looked at him in some concern. She hadn’t noticed before how thin he was. His t-shirt hung from his scrawny frame in baggy folds, and his collarbone protruded sharply. A small detail caught her eye suddenly. Puzzled, she began to peer closer.
“Why are you looking at Malfoy like that?” a voice whispered softly in her ear. She jumped at the interruption and turned her head to see Harry, his bright green eyes regarding her quizzically.
“I was just thinking,” she whispered back. “If the Order decide to tell him, he’ll probably get his memory back. And then this Malfoy will go, and the other Malfoy will come back, and I just want to remember Malfoy the way he is now.” A look at Harry’s face told her that he hadn’t followed a word of that. She sighed in exasperation.
“It’s okay, I know what you mean. I think,” Harry added. She smiled and opened her mouth to reply. At that moment the door to the living room opened and Lupin entered the kitchen. All leapt to their feet, eager for some information. However, he merely nodded to them and set off briskly out into the garden. A loud crack a moment later told them he had Apparated.
The room burst into a buzz of conversation. Everyone was wondering what had happened in the room next to them. Fred tried the Extendable Ears again, but they didn’t work. However, their curiosity did not have to wait for long. Lupin reappeared twenty minutes later with a Pensieve. Everyone crowded round him as he came inside. He fended off their eager questions, looking exasperated.
“I’ll answer your questions in a minute,” he told them, his voice nearly rising to a shout as he struggled to make himself heard over the clamour. He set the Pensieve down on the table. “Mr. Malfoy, please come with me.” All eyes turned to Malfoy. He stood up somewhat shakily and walked over to Lupin. They headed straight for the living room. Malfoy stopped in the doorway.
“Goodbye,” he said to Hermione, trying to smile and failing. Fear and trepidation were written all over his face. She returned his smile and watched as he walked in to the room. She wondered why his goodbye had had such a sense of finality to it, as if that was the last time they would ever see each other. With a sudden shock, she realised that for him as he was now, it would be. She was astonished to find a tinge of sadness entering her heart. Did she like Malfoy that much? No, she decided, it was just in comparison to his former self. Definitely.
She heard the door close quietly again and looked up. Lupin had come in again. He strode over to the Pensieve. They gathered around him, looking at him expectantly.
“I need you to find any memories you have of Malfoy. Anything at all will do. Hopefully something will spark him off and he’ll return to normal.”
“How do we take out a memory?” asked Ginny.
“Like this,” Lupin replied. He put his wand to his own head and withdrew a pearly white threadlike material. He added it to the Pensieve carefully, which swirled about, casting faint shadows on Lupin’s drawn face.
Hermione concentrated hard, trying to remember all her encounters with Malfoy. None of them had been very pleasant. Her cheeks flamed as she thought of the ‘new’ Malfoy seeing her with walrus-like teeth. She gritted her teeth and placed the memory in the Pensieve. Everyone else had similar looks of concentration on their faces. Ron was grimacing. Hermione empathised with him; like her, few of his encounters with Malfoy had been enjoyable. Behind Ron, Harry was quietly conversing with Lupin. From his expression, Hermione judged Harry wasn’t too happy about something.
After half an hour of racking their brains, Lupin finally decided he had enough. He levitated the Pensieve off the table. Hermione opened the door in to the living room for him. She heard Moody firing off questions at Malfoy, but the door swung shut before she could pick up any more. She sighed heavily.
“What’s wrong, Hermione?” Ron asked curiously. “You’ve been really quiet since you arrived, and you haven’t mentioned schoolwork once!” She threw him a dirty look
“I’m not completely obsessed with school, you know!” she snapped crossly. Before their bickering could escalate into anything more, Harry stormed past them into the garden, slamming the door violently behind him. Hermione and Ron exchanged worried looks and ran to catch up with him.
The sun was still beating down, unusually strong for the English climate. Harry stomped off down the garden. Several gnomes scattered as he approached them. Stupid as they were, they could sense black moods. He threw himself down onto an old stone bench.
“Harry, are you feeling okay?” Hermione asked hesitantly. He was reminding her forcefully of when he was fifteen and raging about being kept in the dark about the Order’s doings.
Harry didn’t reply for several minutes. He raised his head suddenly and looked at Hermione, his eyes blazing. “Didn’t I tell you this would happen?”
Confused, she glanced at Ron, who spoke up. “What d’you mean, Harry?”
“Malfoy!” Harry leapt to his feet and began pacing angrily up and down. “Lupin just told me we’re going to have to guard him. It’ll be our special task.” He spat the words out bitterly. “They don’t want me to go after Voldemort-" Ron flinched “-or do anything except sit here!”
Hermione looked at him in despair. The anger and frustration was radiating off him. She knew in her heart and soul that the Order were trying to prevent Harry from carrying out his plans. But what could they do? Malfoy did need to be guarded once he got his memory back.
A sudden, unwelcome idea came to her. She frantically searched for some way around it anything… but no. She sighed resignedly and broke in on Harry and Ron’s rant about Malfoy - or at least, Harry was ranting and Ron was nodding in agreement.
“I have an idea,” she said reluctantly. Harry and Ron ceased at once and looked at her with renewed hope. “There need only be one person guarding Malfoy. He’s got no wand and Order members will be constantly in and out.” She looked Harry straight in the eye. “I’ll do it.”
Ron immediately burst out with several loud protestations. He gradually wound down, though, as Harry continued to gaze at Hermione thoughtfully.
“Are you sure about this?” Harry asked her. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wanted to scream NO! She didn’t want to be left with the abhorrent Malfoy while her best friends were possibly in mortal danger or in need of her help. She wanted to go with them, to do her best to defeat You-Know-Who.
“But-” Ron began furiously. Harry cut him off.
“I can’t see any other way, Ron. I know that we might need Hermione, but otherwise we can’t go at all.” Ron shrugged in defeat and flopped down beside Harry. For several minutes the only sound to be heard was the grunts of the gnomes as they scurried round the garden.
Hermione bit her lip worriedly. She knew her plan made sense, but nevertheless she knew she would spend the entire time fretting about them. For a moment indecision flitted across her mind. What if Harry and Ron really needed her? She knew far more spells than they did. Look at all the times before this that she had saved them - the Devil’s Snare, for instance. If it wasn’t for her, they would have been killed.
“Hey, Harry!” Hermione looked up as the sound of Fred’s voice drifted across the garden. Apprehension gripped her as she followed Harry and Ron inside the house. The atmosphere had relaxed a little. Members of the Order were shaking hands and pulling on cloaks in preparation to leave. Lupin called them over as they entered.
“We’ve just received an urgent message from Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Lupin told them, shrugging on his cloak “Apparently one of Voldemort’s spies has been discovered. We need to get down there as fast as we can. Until we return, you’ll have to guard Malfoy. He may be dangerous in his disturbed state so be on your guard. Do not, under any circumstances, go into that room.” He pointed towards the living room. Hermione looked at it thoughtfully, wondering whether Malfoy had remembered anything yet. Lupin handed Harry a key. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.” With that he strode out of the house. A loud crack a second later told them he was gone. The rest of the Order did likewise and soon the house was empty save for Harry, Ron and Hermione. The twins and Ginny had gone to the village nearby.
Time stretched on. Hermione thought exasperatedly that no day had ever been as long as this one. Most of it had been spent waiting. Out of sheer boredom, she began a game of wizard chess with Ron. Harry paced up and down the room restlessly. It made her jittery even to watch him.
“This is going to take forever!” Harry said at last. Hermione looked up thankfully; her queen was being massacred by Ron’s unholy bishop. “There’s about six years worth of memories in that Pensieve. How long are we going to have to wait!”
“Time doesn’t run normally in a Pensieve,” Hermione replied, glancing at her watch. “He’s been in there about two hours, so it shouldn’t be much longer-” A small sound from the living room made her stop suddenly.
“Looks like your question has been answered, Harry,” Ron said briskly as he coolly slaughtered Hermione’s last remaining knight. Harry nodded uneasily.
“What now though? We have the real Malfoy in there.” Harry sat down on the chair beside Hermione. “Watch out for that - too late.” Hermione groaned in frustration as Ron triumphantly placed his lethal queen in a position of unsurpassable power.
“Checkmate!” he crowed. Hermione sat back in her chair. She hated losing. But somehow she couldn’t concentrate tonight. She threw back her chair after a moment and marched across to the door into the living room. She listened carefully, straining for any sound from within.
“Hermione, what are you doing?” Ron asked lazily from his sprawled position in his seat. “Even if Malfoy’s finished with the Pensieve we still have to wait for the Order to come back.”
“Quiet, Ron!” Hermione snapped. She pressed her ear against the door, holding her breath. The Silencing charm had been removed, and she was sure she could hear someone … crying? She stepped back, shaking her head in disbelief. Why would Malfoy cry? She stood there, undecided as to whether or not she should do something.
“What is it, Hermione?” Harry called. He and Ron had started another game of wizard chess. She marched over to him and grabbed the keys from the table beside him. Ignoring his exclamation of protest and surprise, she strode back over to the door and jammed the key into the lock, twisting it sharply with shaking fingers. She wouldn’t let herself stop to think in case she realised what a stupid thing she was doing. Taking a deep breath, she flung open the door and looked inside.
Whatever she had expected, it wasn’t this.
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A/N : Once again, I must apologise for the delay in updating. I have had a lot of trouble with this chapter, but it’s finally written. I am delighted to announce that this story has been nominated for the ‘He Had it Coming’ Dramione awards in the ‘Sweet and Fluffy’ and ‘The Last Laugh’ categories. Thank you so much whoever nominated it! I’ll let you know when voting begins.