As We Survive: Part 1 - The Evolution of Draco Malfoy: Chapter 4 - Hermione's Secret

(Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Stories or any of the main characters, only the plot and a few momentary characters are mine. I've tried to stick as close to Rowling's stories as possible, but as the story progresses, I will deviate from it. Apologies for the swearing, tried to keep it at a minimum but the story didn't feel authentic without it.)

Chapter 3: Mourning

Hermione woke up early, her mind still gloomy from her troubled sleep. The tent was so warm and comfortable. Wait, no, not the tent, the tower, and suddenly a sense of loss pervaded her entire body, numbing and painful. Luna lay in one of the beds next to her, the two beds across from her were empty and she recalled that the Pavarti twins, who had been sleeping there after the battle, had left with their parents after the funeral the day before. The fifth bed was empty but showed signs of having been slept in, she vaguely remembered Ginny climbing into it, and wondered where she had gone.

She rose and dressed quietly in muggle clothing and a cloak to ward off the early morning chill. She picked up her shoes, and crept silently down the stairs. The common was full of sleeping bodies. Ron and Seamus sat with their heads on the table, snoring loudly, a half-finished game of wizard's chess in front of them, all the pieces snoozing comfortably in odd positions on the board. George lay on the floor in front of the fire, wrapped up in his painfully brilliant cloak. Harry and Ginny sat snuggled on the sofa, sound asleep. Ginny's head was resting on Harry's shoulder and her lashes were wet and sparkling in the light of a half-hearted fire. Dean lay in a phenomenally awkward position, stretched out between two arm chairs giving the grand imitation of a bridge that had been attacked by blankets.

She gazed around at her friends, and smiled, but she could not help but see the gaps in between the people. Fred, whose dark humor would never lift their spirits or grace their lives again. Lavender, who was lying on the edge of death in the hospital wing, too ill and fragile to move to St. Mungos. Colin Creevey, who would never annoy them with his pesky camera and his unending obsession with Harry's courage. And then she thought of Remus, and Tonks, and Sirius and Dumbledore. She was crying silently as she climbed out the portrait hole; sparkling, scorching tears coursed down her face. She brushed them from her face with her bare hand, slipped into her shoes and wrapped her cloak tight around her as she hurried down the hall towards the Headmistress's office.

When she reached the gargoyle, she asked it, "Is the Headmistress awake?"

The gargoyle yawned and blinked its tired eyes, "Not you too." It said wearily, "The headmistress is awake. She has already had one visitor this morning. The hours everyone has been keeping lately..." Tiredness seemed to make it more chatty than usual, or maybe it just wanted to complain.

"I'm sorry." Said Hermione, "I'll just go right up and let you get back to sleep."

"Password." Said the gargoyle grumpily.

"Oh, right, Severous.": Hermione said, almost choking on the name as the memory of the dying colorless face filled her mind. The door opened and she climbed onto the ascending staircase fighting to compose herself. By the time the stairs had risen to the top, Hermione's face was composed, and the only idication of sorrow was a vague redness around her eyes, barely visible in the growing light.

Headmistress McGonnagal was seated at a table in the office and Professor Flitwick was seated across from her, swinging his short legs and dipping a biscuit into a cup of tea. They both turned as she entered, and McGonnagal smiled a thin, kind smile, and waved her wand to bring a third chair to the table. "Come and sit down my dear." She said, "Have a cup of tea. I always find it quite bracing in the morning."

Hermione smiled, and sat down in the chair, taking the cup of tea that flitwick sent towards her with his wand.

"How are you my dear?" The tiny charms professor asked.

"I...I...fine, I'm fine." Hermione said, furious with herself as she fought back tears again. She closed her eyes for a moment to regain her self-control, and then said, "I actually have a question, I thought you might be able to help with. One that both of you might be able to answer, actually." She said, grasping the edges of her sleeves to keep her hands from shaking.

McGonnagal put down the cup that she was sipping from, and looked at Hermione over her glasses. "Go on dear girl, what is it? If there is any way that we can help, I assure you we will."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I was wondering about memory charms." She said and then paused.

Flitwick perked up, looking deeply interested. "Memory charms?" He asked, "Are you speaking of the False Memory charm, which adds to a person's memories, or are you speaking of the true Memory Charm, which removes a person's memories?"

"B-Both." She said. "I was wondering if you knew of cases where both charms were used, together, to alter a memory."

The professors stared at her for several moments, before the Headmistress said, "I am sure there are, in extreme cases where muggles have encountered particularly complicated magic, and have had to have their memories altered. However, it is usually adequate to either obliviate the necessary memories or to simply add an explanatory element to a memory with a false memory charm. Perhaps, Filius, you have some...other insight into Miss Granger's question?" McGonnagal looked at her collegue with vaguely confused but calculating expression.

Professor Filius expression was one of intrigue and the intense fascination that can only been seen in an academic whose topic of study has arisen in conversation. "Well, there have been cases such as that, I believe, I can think of several instances involving larger sections of memories."

"And...and...do you know if the combined charms...if they can be reversed?" Hermione asked, "If the original memories can be restored?"

Professor Flitwick shook his head, his chin in his hand, gazing at his pupil with an air of academic interest, "When such charms are used, it is rarely with the intention of restoring the memories to their original form. The False Memory charm can be reversed, I know, although it is a very powerful and difficult magic. Albus was able to restore large memories altered by a False Memory Charm, but I know of few others who have acheived a satisfactory reversal of the spell. Although, I, myself, can reverse small memory additions with a certain level of effort."

Hermione smiled at this, and looked a little hopeful. But the brightness left her eyes as the professor continued speaking. "Obliviated memories, however." He shook his head, "There is only one way of reversing erased memories. And the method is one that no witch or wizard with any amount of kindness or love would be able to accomplish. The only known, and fully successful way or returning erased memories is, I am afraid, the cruciatus curse, that, of course, is why Professor Lockhart is still signing autographs in St. Mungos with absolutely no idea of who he is at all."

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, feeling as though the bottom had dropped out of her world. She rose, unsteadily to her feet, and stammered, "Th-thank you, Professor, Headmistress. I-I think I'd better go. Breakfast will be starting soon and I...I wanted to see Molly...Mrs. Weasley before..." She backed away towards the stairs.

"My dear?" The professor and the headmistress both rose, and they gazed at her with startled expressions on their faces.

"I'm fine." She said, making a pathetic attempt at a smile, "Fine, I just remembered something. Thank you professor, Headmistress, you've been most helpful." And she turned and ran for the door.

Draco rounded the corner towards the office of the Headmistress just in time to see a figure with wavy brown hair disappearing around the corner. He gazed after the girl for a moment, and then walked over to the gargoyle, "Severus." he said, cooly, ignoring the painful clench in his chest, and rode the staircase up to the office. 

"Headmistress, Professor." He said respectfully, nodding to the witch and wizard who were sitting with cups of tea half-way to their lips.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagal said, "I was wondering if you had received my message last night. Well, do sit down, we have some important things to discuss.

Draco sat down, feeling a little apprehensive, and accepted the cup of tea that Flitwick poured for him. 

"Tell me, Mr. Malfoy," Said Flitwick, "Are you familiar with the Protean charm? I believe I heard a rumor to that effect." 

"I am...competant at it." Said Draco, but then added truthfully, "But Granger is really brilliant at it, if you need one done. She mastered it our fifth year."

"And, how are you aware of that? Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagal asked, looking at him as though he had suddenly transfigured into something very unexpected, which he supposed, in a way, he had.

"When I was part of the...inquisitorial squad fifth year, I figured out that it was how Dumbledore's Army was communicating." Draco said, "And then I used it to...when I was...well, I did it myself sixth year. But not as extensively as Granger did." He finished the last part a bit weakly. 

"Amazing." Said Flitwick, "You were both doing Newt level charms in your fifth and sixth year. Absolutely brilliant. I knew you were both very talented, but I had no idea." 

"I don't know," Said Draco, his pale face flushing slightly, "Granger did it for a good cause, I did it...well. I was a right twat..." He stopped, amazed at his own stark honesty.

"Well," Said the Headmistress, beaming at him, "Perhaps you would be so kind as to assist Miss Granger with applying the charm to some parchment this morning, after breakfast. You can meet in Professor Flitwick's office at 9am, and he will explain to you what needs to be done."

Draco nodded. "Certainly. I would be honored, as long as Granger doesn't object to working with me. I don't want to be a source of discomfort to her."

"I will ask her if she objects." Said the Headmistress. "After you assist Miss Granger, you can report to Madame Pomfrey, as she seems to be the person in most need of assistance these days. Potter or I will give you further assignments as needed."

"Thank you Headmistress." Said Draco, "I...appreciate you agreeing to allow me to remain here over the summer. It is much more pleasant than it would be at the Manor, or the Ministry, for that matter."

"You are most welcome, Mr. Malfoy, and Merlin knows we need all the help we can manage. Now, hurry along and get your breakfast. You have just over an hour before you report to Professor Flitwick. If plans change, then either Potter or one of the other professors will inform you of the changes."

Draco rose and nodded to the professors politely, "Thank you Headmistress, Professor." He said, and left the room abruptly, slightly annoyed at being told to run along like a little child.

As he was turning into the Great Hall, he found himself face to face with a figure nearly as tall as himself, with black hair and glasses, "Hello, Potter." He said. "I just checked in with McGonagal, anything I need to refer to you for." This was painful, having to humble himself in front of, what was Potter now, the Man Who Had Survived Twice?

"Oh, right, that's good." Said Harry, and they stood gazing past each other a little awkwardly, till Harry said, "Nothing on my end."

But Draco stopped him, "Look, um, I met my Aunt Andromeda yesterday and we, well we talked. And, if you don't object I'd like to come along when you visit her. If that's all right with you, that is."

Harry looked surprised, but smiled uncertainly, "No, that's fine, especially if Andromeda invited you. It will be good for her, and Teddy, having more family interested in them. It's been a really horrible year for her. What with everything."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Draco said, looking at the floor, "Well, cheers then, I've got to go get my breakfast."

Harry nodded, and headed down the hall towards the grounds.

Draco ate quickly, sitting by himself at the Slytherin table more out of habbit than for any other reason, then he got up hurriedly and walked back out to where the graves, walking among them until he reached Dumbledore's tomb. He stood staring at it for a long time.

"You made me an offer a year ago, and I wish I'd accepted it. Wish I could have accepted it. You saw something in me that I never saw in myself. You saw what I've wanted to be true all along, this past year, and now I think it might be becoming true. I want to be worthy of the trust that you put in me, when you offered me the chance of a different life. I would have taken it then, if I'd had a bit more time, I wish I had. I wish I could erase from my memory all the things that I saw last year. Wish I could go back and do things differently and not be such a bloody coward. I did things last year, horrible things, and I stood by and let horrible things to be done to other people, and I'm trying to follow the remorse, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to make things right. Wish you were here, you always understood people." He muttered the last bit and then turned and walked back towards the school, not noticing Harry, round the tomb and stare after him as he walked away.

When Draco entered Professor Flitwick's classroom at exactly nine in the morning, Hermione was already sitting in the room, staring out the window. She glanced around her shoulder as he entered, and then turned back towards the window and brushed the corner of her sleeve across her eyes, clearing her throat. "Morning Malfoy." She said, and her voice was sharp and slightly shrill.

"Good morning, Granger." He said as gently as he could manage, wondering what had happened that made it so hard for her to hide her feelings. He took a seat near, but not next to her. Then he turned to look at her face, it was slightly red and blotchy, as though she had been crying for a long time. 

"Um, would you be more comfortable without me here?" He asked, "I can ask McGonagal to send me somewhere else." 

She stared at him as though he were a three headed dog, "Um," She shook her head, "No, Flitwick said it was a pretty big project, and since he and McGonagal have more pressing things to attend to, it's probably better if we do it together. I mean, I've done the charm before, but not this extensively." 

"Well, you're way farther along than I am." He said, humbly. "I've only done one master and another object, you did, what, 50 our fifth year?"

She nodded, "Yeah, how did you know about that?" She asked, interestested in spite of herself. 

"Marrietta Edgecomb revealed all when Umbridge gave her the truth serum. Didn't you know?

"No, I didn't know that she told about the coins." Hermione said, her head on one side, thinking, "That means you knew last year, but Neville said that the Carrows never figured out how the Army was communicating last year."

He scoffed, "Didn't tell them did I? I might have been a coward and a bully, but I wasn't going to volunteer information that wasn't asked of me. Especially if it meant another person being tortured."

"You've changed, Malfoy." She said, and looked as though she was going to say something else, but Flitwick walked in.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, so good to see you both back in my classroom. Two of my brightest students." The two young people looked at each other with their eyebrows raised.

"Well, then, well then." The tiny man said, "Let's see what we can do. We need something that will enable extensive and instant communication with all those who are working on repairing the castle. We were considering parchment, but there's a problem with the heat from the charm. I know you have both used fake Galleons, but those won't do in this case, as they are not large enough to send more than a short sentence or two at a time."

"We could enchant the parchment to do something other than heat up." Said Hermione, with her best academic manner, "What if they ring, or rustle, or something like that?"

"What's wrong with them heating up?" Asked Draco, "We could just make the parchment impervious to heat."

"But then we'd have to do two charms instead of one." Hermione said, exasperated.

"But if we did it your way, we'd have to rework the charm that we already know. This way, we just use two charms that we are already familiar with."

"Oh. That actually makes sense." Said Hermione, giving him a strange look. "I guess ringing would get a bit annoying after a while, wouldn't it."

"Well then." Said Flitwick, who seemed to have been enjoying their little argument, "Now that we have worked that out, I have a stack of parchment right here on my desk for you to work on. I'll be back in an hour to check on your progress. We need a master parchment for each of the teachers and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. Oh, and Madame Pomfrey and Madame Pince will also need one as well." He nodded to them encouragingly, and left the room.

Draco turned to Hermione, "I can do the impervious charm, if you want to start on the protean charm."

"Sure," Hermione said, handing him the stack of parchment.

They worked in silence for a little while, but the image of Hermione being tortured kept prodding the back of Draco's mind until finally, he put down the stack of parchment that he was working on and turned towards her.

"Look," He said abruptly, and she glanced up at him, "I was wrong and I was a coward, and I just want to say I'm sorry. You don't have to accept it, and I know there's probably nothing I can do to make up for what I've done, but I just wanted you to know that I'm really sorry."

She stared at him for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed, "What exactly are you sorry for?" She asked suspiciously.

"For calling you names, for being unkind, for not helping you when...when...my aunt was hurting you." The last was spoken as a whisper.

"Oh." She said blankly, "Thank you. But the last one, there wasn't really that much you could do about it was there?"

"Don't...don't try and excuse it." He said, a little harshly, "I was a coward, I knew the whole time that there was probably something that I could do, but I was too afraid for my own life to actually try anything."

She looked at him, startled. "Oh, ok. But...I forgive you. We all did things in the war that we didn't feel right about. That weren't right. It wasn't just you."

"What could you possibly have done that wasn't right?" He asked, and to his distress her eyes filled with tears. "Oh Merlin, look I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "No, don't be. I'm fine. Just being silly."

He rolled his eyes, "Granger, I don't think that you're capable of silliness, and after everything that you've been through this year some tears are probably necessary."

She stared at him, the tears drying up in her astonishment, "You've changed." She said.

"I saw you bleed." He said quietly, "And your blood was just as red as mine. And you beat me in every class for six years, which was infuriating by the way. I just realized that all the things my parents taught me learned about muggle born witches and wizards was just a load of dragon dung."

She smiled at him, "Wow. I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Neither did I." He said. Then he conjoured a glass and whispered, "Aguamenti." and handed it to Hermione when it was full. "Have a drink and we'll get back to this lot. We're nearly done."

When they finished, Hermione took the stack an said, "I'll take these to Flitwick. See you later...Draco...can I call you that?"

He nodded, and then said, "Wait, how...how are you able to forgive me so easily?"

She gazed at him for a moment, then said, "It's not really easy, it's just that, well, I don't ever want anything like what happened this year to happen again. But if we keep seeing each other as enemies then we're really just preparing for the next war, aren't we? If the side that wins can't forgive the losing side, and the other way around, and if we can't acknowledge when we're wrong, then the next war has already begun. It might take ten years, or twenty or a hundred, but it will happen in the end. And I don't want it to happen, ever, if I can help it. So if you're willing to be sorry, then I want to be willing to forgive."

He stared at her in amazement, and breathed, "You really are the brightest witch of our age, aren't you."

She blushed, "I don't know, I just like reasoning things out and learning. Books and cleverness aren't the most important thing there is."

"What do you think is the most important?" he asked.

"Love." She said simply. "After all, it was because of love that Harry was able to defeat Voldemort in the end. I don't mean romantic love, although I guess that can be a part of it, I mean love that goes beyond just ourselves and our relationships. The kind of love that makes it possible for enemies to be friends, and friends to be like family." And her eyes drifted away, as she thought of Harry and Ron, and the Weasleys.

"I think I'm beginning to understand that kind of love, a little. I've only ever known family love, you know, the kind that comes from being related to someone. What you're talking about is the kind of love that you three showed when you rescued Goyle and I from the fiendfyre."

"Yeah, that's it." She said quietly. "Well, I'll see you later Malfoy."

"See you, Granger." He said quietly.

Draco ended up in the dungeons for the afternoon, helping Slughorn brew potions for Madame Pomfrey. When they had brewed enough of the standard healing potions, blood replenishing tonic, dreamless sleep potion, calming draught, and a few others, the professor clapped him on the shoulder with a small, stubby hand. "Well done, my boy, well done! You are clearly as proficient as Severus was, when he was your age. Very talented boy, not quite a Harry Potter, mind you, but very talented."

Draco hid a dry smirk when the potions master mentioned Potter's "proficiency" with potions, which Draco was certain had been due to at least a small amount of cheating, but he said, "Thank you sir." Respectfully.

"Tell me, my boy, are you planning on returning to Hogwarts in the Fall? Several of your peers will be, including a few Slytherins, a couple of whom joined in at the end of the battle to help defend the school."

"Ah, yes, Zabini and Nott. Never thought that Nott would openly oppose his father like that." Draco said quietly, then in a more normal voice, "Yes, I think that I will be returning next year, and possibly be staying for an extra semester, as my sixth year was a bit...disrupted."

Slughorn nodded, a little too knowingly, "Yes, yes. Of course. He-who-must-not-be-named had a habbit of doing that to his followers."

"I was hardly a follower of his, really." Said Draco hotly, "I know I have the mark, and he was operating out of my house, but I was not an avid supporter...even long before the war ended."

Slughorn looked at him sympathetically, "Now, now, now, no need to get angry,

Harry turned, and looked astonished to find himself face-to-face with Draco. "What is it?" He asked abruptly.

"Headmistress asked me to come find you. She said you and Weasley need to find Granger, she's passed me in the hall looking a bit upset. Headmistress said you'd know how to find her?"

"Right." Said Harry, putting down his fork and wiping his mouth, as he and Ron began to clamber over the bench. But they both froze as George said bitterly, "Running errands to help the mudblood now, are we? Wanting to look good so everyone will overlook your being a Death Eater?"

Mrs. Weasley said, "George!" in a shocked, reproachful voice.

Draco turned to look at George, a vicious retort on his lips, but it died there when he saw the agony and anger in the other man's face. He bowed his head for a moment, then looked backp at him, saying, "There's no such thing as a mudblood, Weasley. All blood is valuable. There's just witches and wizards, and I think we're pretty much all the same, really." He nodded to the rest of the table, politely, rotated on his heel, and slouched over to the Slytherin table, his head bowed slightly.

As Draco walked away, Ron and the others stared after him, with looks of shock and amazement on their faces. "Merlin's beard, I think the world might be coming to an end!" Ron muttered loudly, as he and Harry hurried away.

"I'm going to go and sit with that boy!" Said Mr. Weasley, rising suddenly and grabbing his plate and cup, "He looks like he could use a friend."

"I'm coming to!" Said Neville, slopping pumpkin juice over the table as he rushed after the man.

"Great Bloody Merlin's Beared ghost more like," Said George staring after his father. And Dean and Seamus nodded in chorus with him, adding their own explatives into the conversation as Mrs. Weasley tried to give all three of them a look of disapproval all at once.

"Well." Said George, "If Ronnie's right, then we might as well go out with a bang." As he pulled a bottle of Fire Whiskey from his pocket and beginning to pour glasses and hand them around the table.

"George Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley had finally found her voice.

"Come on, mum." George said, handing her a glass, "Drink up, we're toasting the end of the world, aren't we?"

She took the glass from him, smiling weakly, and gazed over at her husband who was talking amiably with the son of the man he had hated for as along as he had known him. She raised her glass, and drank the whiskey, then looked at the others and shrugged. George just shrugged and poured himself another glass.

Draco was pretty certain that he had never had such a surreal experience in his life. Arthur Weasley, father of the once despised clan, and Neville Longbottom, former favorite subject of his bullying, suddenly sat down across from him...and smiled. He stared at them, wondering if he had finally gone completely mad.

"That was very good, what you said back there, my boy." Arthur said kindly, "Took a lot of bravery."

"I...well, that is...it's just true isn't it?" Draco said, "I just wish I'd realized how true it was a long time ago. It could have prevented...that is...things might have been different. I can't spend my whole life being a cowardly ass, can I?"

"Well." Said Mr. Weasley, "Those were not the words of a coward or an ass. And it was very good of you to reply to George the way you did..." He stopped, and shook his head sadlly.

"No offense, mate," Said Neville, looking at Draco shrewdly, "but really, what changed? I mean, you've never seemed that bothered by using....THAT word to describe Hermione and other muggle borns in the past."

Draco stared at the table darkly, and for a moment looked like he wanted to hurt it, then he said, "A lot of things changed, really. Slowly, over time. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, it's always been obvious that Hermione was the best in our year. And then there's the idea that muggle borns really just stole magic, which is just a load of stinking rubbish. I mean, really, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any squibs, now, would there?" He unconsciously spoke the same words that Harry had spoken earlier that year.

"Then, of course, there were the things the Death Eaters were doing..." And suddenly he felt old and drawn and drained, as he whispered, "The things that I was forced to do as a Death Eater." He didn't look at his two companions, afraid of what he would see. But if he had, he would have recieved looks of horrified pity.

"When..." Mr Weasley cleared his throat, "When did you..."

"I took the mark the summer before sixth year." He answered.

"Blimey." Said Neville.

"So, Harry was right." Said Mr. Weasely.

"Yeah." Said Draco. "At first I was proud, couldn't understand why my mother was so horrified. But then I slowly began to realize, I wasn't a free, priveleged member of an elite society...I was a slave, and Voldemort was my master. And if I didn't do everything to perfection he would torture or kill me."

"16." Said Mr. Weasley, and his voice was distant and mournful, as he thought of his own children in that same position.

"It still doesn't justify what I did though." Draco said, harshly, "I did horrible things. Things I wish I could erase from my memory...things that sometimes make me wish I could erase myself. But I have to rememer them because they happened, and I just can't push that aside."

"It does explain things, though." Said Neville, kindly. "Actually, it explains a lot. I mean, some of the things that happened last year were dead confusing. Like when the Carrows put you in charge of first year detention. They said Alecto told you to use the cruciatus curse on them, until you thought they'd learned their lesson. But the kids said you just told them to scream as long as they could, one at a time, and sat down against the wall and closed your eyes. Some of us thought you were just too lazy..."

Draco shook his head, "I know I've been a bully, but torturing kids...well, that was stupid and pointless and evil. Really evil. I couldn't do it. I know that there were times when I did...but only when I couldn't see a way out of it."

"They made you torture children?" Mr. Weasely asked hollowly, and there was horror etched on his face.

Draco nodded, "Neville was the bravest." Draco said, "He just flat out refused, would look Carrow right in the eye and tell him where he could stick his curse." He chuckled humorlessly at the memory.

"Someone had to stand up to them." Said Neville modestly, "Kids were loosing hope, it always made them feel better when someone didn't let the Carrows win. At the end of the day, enduring the curse a few times was a better evil to endure than seeing hopelessness on people's faces. Ginny was really brave too." The last was spoken quietly.

"Ginny." Mr.Weasley's voice was suddenly hoarse. "Did she..."

"Yes." Said Draco blankly, remembering.

The older man blanched and rose unsteadily to his feet, "Excuse me, gentlemen, I need to go find my daughter." And he strode out of the Great Hall.

Neville turned towards Draco after they watched Arthur leave, "I probably shouldn't have mentioned Ginny." He said, "I just thought that she would have...you know...told someone."

Draco nodded silently, but his mind was somewhere else, "I need to tell you, something." He said his eyes dark and defiant, "I need to tell you that, well, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bullied you the way I did all those years. Everything I did to you, it was cruel and pointless, and at the end of the day, you turned out to be a far better man, better person, than I could ever be. Braver, stronger, more true. I know I can't undo the things I've done, but I wish I could."

Neville gave Draco a speculative stare, "Thank you." He said, then paused in thought, "Why don't we take Hermione some dinner, I don't think she ate much lunch. And, Draco, I will forgive you, soon. I just need some time." But he held out his hand to Draco, who shook it.

"I can't ask for fairer than that." Draco said, and turned to pour a glass of pumpkin juice, while Neville filled a plate with food.

As they entered the hallway that led to the Libarary, they saw Hermione sitting against a wall, with Harry, Ron and Luna surrounding her. Ron's voice drifted down the hall towards them, "It's all right, Hermione, we can go with you to get your parents."

"No, you don't understand." She was saying, "They won't know who I am."

Draco's blood froze.

"But, Hermione," Harry said, in confusion, "You can just reverse the spell. You used a False Memory Charm, right?"

"Think, Harry." Hermione said, her voice thick and bitter, "A false memory charm adds to memories, it doesn't take them away. Only one thing takes away memories."

"Obliviate." Harry said numbly.

"And there's only one way to retrieve obliviated memories." Hermione said, staring fixedly at the wall.

"The cruciatus curse." Said Draco, his voice hoarse, and Hermione barely nodded, before she slumped to the floor, unconcious.

As We Survivie: Part 1 - The Evolution of Draco Malfoy: Chapter 3 - Mourning

(Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Stories or any of the main characters, only the plot and a few momentary characters are mine. I've tried to stick as close to Rowling's stories as possible, but as the story progresses, I will deviate from it. Apologies for the swearing, tried to keep it at a minimum but the story didn't feel authentic without it.)

Chapter 3: Mourning

Draco rose from the table at six in the morning. There was a pile of folded parchment in front of him, and his eyes were clear and bright despite his sleepless and tortured night. The meal that Winky had provided had been more than excessive, and the half that he had eaten had revived his spirits and given him renewed energy. Even though he had spent the night feeling the wrongs he had done to others, really feeling them for the first time in his life, he now had a sensation of being strangely cleansed and purposeful. Because he could now understand the cruelties he had been guilty of, the deep but confusing guilt he had been crippled by the night before had given way to a graver and more tangible remorse that drove him forward and motivated him. He changed into fresh robes and strode from his room, his jaw set in grim determination, as he thought of what might wait for him overhead. But he was done running, done hiding and being a coward. He would face whatever came, and do what he could to set things right.

He left the dungeons and made his way to the Great Hall, where Minerva McGonagal greeted him almost immediately. "Mr. Malfoy, are you quite well?" She asked him. "We were very...concerned when you disappeared yesterday morning."

"Yes, thank you, Headmistress." He said respectfully. Then smirked slightly when she gave a start and glared at him over her spectacles.

"Are you quite sure, young man? You do not seem to be yourself..." She asked, looking at him with the air of a hospital matron examining a patient.

"Quite sure, Headmistress, I had a...unique set of experiences yesterday and during the battle. My life was saved three times by Harry Potter. It…changes you, having your life saved by someone you were once...less than friendly with." Draco did not care to mention what had happened the night before, although he realized that it might become necessary in the future. 

"Indeed. I imagine it would." She said, giving him the kind but severe glance that students now recognized as her signature stare. "The Bloody Baron said you had chosen an unusual path...Well. Right this way, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Potter and I have some things to discuss with you."

Draco followed her, his hands in his pockets. He could feel the eyes of the other people in the room, and wondered if they reflected curiosity or hatred. There was so much work to do, to repair the wrongs he'd done, and some, he knew, could never be fully mended. He felt despair wavering on the edges of his consciousness, and then he looked up and saw McGonagal gesturing to a place at a table, where Potter was already seated. He turned the despair off and shoved it into a dark room at the back of his mind, as he sat down.

"Now, eat first, then we will cover the logistics." McGonagal said briskly.

They ate in silence, each of them immersed in their own thoughts and reflections. Sometimes Draco glanced at the other two, and he saw darkness and a sorrow on their faces, and their pain shot through him like a physical wound. This startled him, it was a new experience to really see another person's pain, and it highlighted, in his mind, the selfishness of his own despair.

They ate quickly, and as she finished, McGonagal wiped her mouth with a white cloth napkin and said, "Now then, gentlemen, down to business." They both nodded looked up at their Headmistress.

"Mr. Malfoy, much of yesterday was spent renewing the protective spells around the school, and renewing the charms that prevent muggles from seeing the grounds as they truly appear. As you were not present yesterday, you missed the announcement about the funeral for those who died fighting against Voldemort, which will be held today by the lake. They will be buried next to Albus Dumbledore's tomb." She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. Draco nodded, it was fitting, it was good, but his heart was uneasy.

"And…and what of the...the others?" He asked, his mouth dry.

"The bodies of the others were sent to their families." She said, her face hard and cold.

"And those that had none?"

"They were buried elsewhere."

He nodded numbly. It was sad, but it was more than he could have expected. “What about my aunt’s body?” He asked.

She gave him a measuring look, and said, “Your parents have already overseen her interment in the Black family vault, which you are welcome to visit if you so desire.” He could see the battle against hostility behind her eyes, and he shook his head.

“No.” He said, “I don’t care to see the body. I probably should, she was my aunt after all…but…” He trailed off; unsure of what to say to express what he was thinking, feeling. She nodded at him, a more friendly expression on her face. 

Potter took up the explanations, "The funeral will be at 10 am this morning. We will leave any work that needs to be done till after then."

"What needs to be done?"

"We have a list, here." She handed him a sheet of parchment, with neat, small writing on it, which he recognized as Granger's.

He glanced down the list. "There are still...still blood stains in places that need to be cleaned up?" He asked. The other two nodded.

"The other teachers and I will take care of that before the families and friends arrive for the funeral." The Headmistres said rigidly.

"I'll take care of it." Draco said coldly, because he did not know how else to say it. Then, by way of explanation, "I didn't lose any loved ones, not really, it won't be as painful for me."

He saw Potter look up, startled.

"It will take some time." The Headmistress said, uncertainly.

"Then I'd better get started now." Draco said firmly. "Unless there was anything else?"

"Just a few quick things." Said Harry, his eyes guarded but interested behind his round glasses. Draco nodded to him. "Kingsley would like to meet with you and Ron and Hermione and I briefly after the meal which will follow the funeral. The inquiries have been scheduled in preparation for the trials, and he would like to inform us of the arrangements."

"Very well," Said Draco, feeling as though he was discussing his own execution, which he very well could be, if word got out…but he bit back the fear that rose up within him.

"Also," McGonagal interjected, "there is the question of where you will be staying for the rest of the summer. We know you have quarters in the Dungeons, which you are more than welcome to continue to use, however, all the other students, as well as the Weasely family, who will be staying here for the Summer to help with rebuilding the school; will now be housed in Gryffindor together. If you wish to join the rest of them, there is more than enough room in Gryffindor to allow you a comfortable bed."

Draco stared at the two people sitting across the table from him wondering vaguely if they had both taken leave of their senses, "Wouldn't...aren't there people who will object?" He asked dryly. "I mean…I know I'm not the most popular person currently, and for good reason. I've been a right git to most of them." He said the last sentence reflectively, speaking towards the table, so he failed to observe the expressions on the faces of the other two, who were gazing at him as quizzically as if he were a newly discovered species of unicorn.

"They have...accepted the idea that you might be joining our living quarters for the summer. Actually, I was under the impression that some of them rather enjoyed the idea of being able to keep an eye on you." Potter said, giving him a measuring look, waiting to see his response.

"I'll...think about it." Draco said hesitantly. He did not relish the idea of being in close living quarters with a large group of people with whom he had shared a mutual hatred, realizing that most of them probably still hated him. However, did he did not savor the idea of being the solitary resident of the dungeons for several months. It was a difficult choice. Draco remained resolute to pursue the path of seeking to reconcile and provide reparation for the wrongs he had done, but he was beginning to realize that the path that he was choosing was going to be a painful one.

Harry nodded, as though this was more than he had hoped for, but said nothing. Instead, he silently handed Draco back his wand.

'Thank you." Draco said, staring at, "I've missed this."

"I know. Mine was broken for a long time this past year...after a run in with Nagini...anyway, I know what it's like to be without your own wand. It's bloody miserable. Sorry I couldn't give it back to you sooner." Harry said.

"You had a run-in with Nagini?" Draco asked, shocked, but seeing that Harry had no intention of explaining further, he said, "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you had it. The Dark Lord wouldn't have been defeated if you hadn't, would he? Or at least, he might not have been defeated as quickly... And, well, I'm glad he's gone. So, thank you." He and Harry shook hands again, and he was embarrassed to see that the Headmistress was dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

“One more question, Potter.” Draco said quickly, “The Weasely family, are they staying because their home was damaged?”

Harry nodded slowly, “It was a strange house, mostly held together with magic. We think that the magic holding it together was broken a some point after the family had to abandon it, it’s just a pile of rubble and building pieces now.”

“Bloody war.” Said Draco, bitterly, he’d never really liked the Weaselys, but that didn’t mean he wanted their home destroyed. Harry nodded, and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, while the Headmistress gave a particularly audible sniff before marching off towards the hospital wing.

A short time later Draco headed out into the hallway, while everyone else was still eating. He cast a spell to detect blood in the corridor near the Great Hall. Much of it had already been cleared away, but he found a few places that had been missed. He used a scouring charm on it, trying not to wonder whose blood it was that he was clearing away. He did the same on all the floors, until he reached the left corridor of the seventh floor, which had suffered a devastating blow during the battle. As he rounded the corner, he instantly stepped back. Hermione and Ginny were sitting on the floor in front of a large hole that had been blasted in the wall. There was a patch of blood on it, in front of them, and Hermione had her arms around the other girl, patting her back soothingly.

"I...I just can't believe he's gone." Ginny said quietly, hiccupping through her tears. "I m-miss him so m-m-much."

"I know, I know," Hermione said, soothingly.

"A-are you sure he didn't...didn't..." Ginny couldn't get the words out.

"He didn't suffer at all." Hermione said soothingly, "He was laughing at a joke Percy made, and then he was gone. Just like that. I don't think he felt a thing."

There was a strangled sigh, and then Ginny said, "He...he would have liked that. Laughing at Percy's joke, he...he would have thought it really fitting. He always used to say that when he did go, he hoped he would die of laughter. Used to make mum so upset." And then she started sobbing again, quietly.

"Come on Ginny." Hermione said gently, after a while. "The funeral will be starting soon. Let's go get cleaned up." She rose and dusted herself off, and held out a hand to the younger girl who took it and rose stiffly.

Draco, who had sunk down against the wall next to the corner, took this as his cue to stand up and continue the job he had volunteered for. He took a deep breath and rounded the corner.

Hermione and Ginny looked up as they saw him, and he saw a glare of anger in Ginny's eyes. But he couldn't help himself. He stopped, and looked them in the eye.

"I'm really sorry." He said hoarsely, but trailed off when he couldn't think of what else to say.

"Thank you, Malfoy." Said Hermione, her brown eyes wide and quizzical. But Ginny just buried her face in her friend's shoulder and did not speak as they continued down the hall.

He watched them walk away, and felt a tight painful wrenching in his heart, that was beginning to become strangely familiar. He turned to the spot where the girls had been sitting, and saw the dried blood on the stones and wreckage of the wall. With swift, precise movements of his wand he cleaned the stones and then looked at the wall, hesitantly, before he waved his wand and sent the stones back to the places they had occupied before the battle. Whispering what he hoped was the proper incantation; he conjured a plaque over the spot where the hole had been. On this spot, 2 May 1998, during the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred Weasely bravely met his end. A sudden strange self-consciousness overtook him, as he turned and walked away feeling strangely guilty.

Draco finished what he was doing only a short time before the funeral was about to start, and made his way out towards the lake. There were seats set up near the tomb and the coffins that held the bodies of the dead stood in a line along the edge of the lake, each wearing a gleaming silver inscription on the surface. The sun gleamed in the sky, reflected on the water, which lapped quietly against the shore. He could see the giant squid far out in the lake, and what looked like the heads of mer-people staring across at the group of witches, wizards, muggles and squibs seated on the shore. Despite the beauty of the morning, the air was heavy and weighty with grief, and here and there a faint sob could be heard, carried by the quiet breeze.

He stopped at a tree nearby and sat down under it, watching but not entering into a scene where he felt certain he would be likely to cause pain and anger. He stayed partially hidden around the side of the tree, listening to the solemn voice of the elderly wizard who was speaking in a kind and sorrowful voice.

"Never," the man said, his voice echoing gloomily off of the stone walls of the school, "Never have I had to preside over the funeral of so many at one time. Never with so many young and innocent at once. Even during the first war against Voldemort, it was not like this, though many suffered and died tragically never before, in my lifetime, had there ever been a successful attack made on Hogwarts. Those lying here gave their lives bravely and without reservation to the cause of freedom for the wizarding world. They did not hesitate to join a battle that they knew could be their last, and the tales of bravery and strength are too many to adequately recount here. Our world will always remember them as those who fought bravely for the cause of justice and freedom, for the downfall of Lord Voldemort. And now proudly, but with a heavy heart, I would like to turn the podium over to those who have been chosen to speak on behalf of the dead, Mr. Harry Potter..."

Draco stood hurriedly, and moved around the tree to face the figure on the platform. Harry paused in front of the podium, before speaking. He removed his glasses, and wiped them on a handkerchief, clearing his throat before speaking. "I did not know all of those we are burying here today, but I know that they were brave and strong and that they were willing to die to see our world take hold of freedom once again. I can tell you that five of the bravest and most admirable people I have ever known died the second of May.

"Severous Snape." There was a stirring in the crowd, and Draco wondered how far the story of Snape's love for Potter's mother had gone. Harry continued, silencing the crowd, "Severous Snape, a man greatly misunderstood by many including myself, a man who loved deeply and whose bravery, intellect, cunning, and loyalty made it possible for us to destroy Lord Voldemort in the end. His life was one of remorse, which he spent deeply tormented by his betrayal of my mother, the only woman he ever loved, a betrayal, which eventually led to her death.

“Snape lived his life tragically, separated by a wall of grief and bitterness from the people who he helped and served the most. When he killed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore last year, he did so at the Headmaster's own orders, and I believe this tortured him for the whole of his final year, the password to the Headmaster's office the day he died was Albus Dumbledore. And yet he made every moment of his life count as much as he could. With his final breath he left me vital information that allowed me to survive facing Lord Voldemort, and defeat him in a final confrontation. Severous Snape must always be remembered for his bravery, his skill, his cunning, and most of all the love with which he served even those who despised him. He will forever be known as one of the noblest of his house.

"Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, whose marriage this past year was greatly celebrated by those who loved them, had far too little time together." Potter stopped, breathing deeply, gripping the podium with white knuckles, when he continued his voice was broken, "Remus was afflicted with a condition that caused him to become a werewolf once a month, something that caused many to fear and hate him. But he was one of the best men, one of the kindest and bravest, that I have ever known. He was the last remaining close friend of my father's, and he cared for me as an uncle.

“Nymphadora, who her friends will always remember as Tonks, was a woman whose bravery and kindness and love will never be forgotten. She delighted and cheered her friends, even in the darkest times, with her abilities as metamorphmagus, a trait that has been inherited by their son, Teddy Lupin. Remus and Nymphadora died together, fighting for the cause to which they had devoted their lives. Together in life, together in death, they will live forever in the hearts of those who knew them." Draco bowed his head, and felt tears of remorse prickling in his eyes, as he recalled the callousness with which Voldemort had spoken of his cousin, telling his family that they needed to "trim the tree", he found himself bitterly regretting that she was now dead, leaving her child an orphan.

But he did not have much time to reflect, as Harry was still speaking. "Fred Weasley," with each name that he spoke Harry's voice became more and more rough and strained, "I saw Fred die, and he died the same way that he lived, laughing. Fred was a man whose tenacity and bravery and love for his friends and family were incredible. At even the darkest moments during the war he brought us laughter and hope. Only his twin brother George who sits here with us today matches his skill as a prankster and a wizard. He is greatly missed, not only by those who knew him, but also by everyone who has enjoyed patronage of the shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred Weasley will live on in our hearts and in our laughter.

"Colin Creevey." Harry said, and here he paused for a long time and the struggle on his face was painful to those watching, "Colin was a member of Dumbledore's army. He was brave and true and good, devoted to those he admired and proud to be a wizard. He was never to be seen without his trusty camera, and loved to record every moment through that lens. Colin believed so strongly in standing up for what he knew was right, that he snuck back into the school and fought in the battle after being asked to leave by the staff. He bravely fought against those who were much older than him. He is one of the greatest tragedies and one of the great heroes of the war. We are thankful to have his brother, Dennis, still among us. Colin and his bravery will never be forgotten." At this, Harry finally broke down, tears streaming down his face, and he left the podium abruptly, wiping tears from his eyes, and was engulfed by a sea of red hair, that filled the front two rows.

Harry was followed by several others, including a tall man with a long beard and hair, who closely resembled Dumbledore, but whose manner and turn of phrase was much less refined than the Headmaster's had been. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood and spoke of the bravery that had been evidenced in the battle, and awarded posthumous Order of Merlin 3rd class to those who had died. He also awarded an Order of Merlin First Class to Harry, Ron and Hermione, who received their rewards with expressions of reluctant sorrow on their faces.

As the crowd of people filed over to the already prepared graves, Draco sat back down, and stared out across the water. He could hear more words of memorial being spoken, but they barely seemed to touch his consciousness as he gazed out across the water. He could hear the sounds of weeping, and the thuds of dirt falling gently onto coffin after coffin. Far in the distance there was a haunting, musical sound, that reminded him vaguely of a phoenix song, and he wondered if Dumbledore's bird was somewhere nearby, mourning the dead. And somehow, the thought comforted him.

He stood and turned back towards what was now the Hogwarts graveyard, he could see Dumbledore's tomb, now standing like a sentinel over the graves of those who had fallen in the battle. His grey eyes were observant and alert, but they hid a heart in turmoil and pain. That so many should have died...that so many should have suffered in this way...and he felt the knife of regret twist in his heart, and sorrow poured from him like blood, but invisible. A figure broke away from the sobbing masses by the graves, and came towards him. It was a woman, a woman with curly brown hair that was beginning to turn to gray. She was tall and stately, and her face was so much like that of his aunt Bellatrix, that Draco took an unconscious step back as she approached. But her dark eyes, though proud, were kind and sad, and she was carrying a small bundle in her arms.

"Draco Malfoy?" She asked as she approached him.

"Yes, Madame." he said respectfully, "Would I be right in thinking that you are my aunt, Andromeda?"

She nodded, and he could hear the unshed tears in her voice as she said, "And you are my nephew, Draco."

"Your daughter, my cousin, she was Nymphadora...she married Professor Lupin..." He asked hesitantly.

"Yes." She said, gently.

And suddenly, his mouth was dry, and it was difficult to speak around the choking sensation in his throat. "This..." He gestured to the bundle, "Is this..."

"Their baby boy, Teddy Lupin." She said, and softly folded back the blanket that was covering the tiny boy's face. His hair was a brilliant shade of dark blue.

"His hair? Is it...how?"

"He's a metamorphmagus, just like my daughter."

Draco nodded, and then said, "I'm sorry. It's not fair that all of us survived when you have lost so many."

She smiled sadly, "They died bravely, and they died to make the world a better place for little Teddy. I wish they were here, but I am proud of what they did."

"Teddy, is that, was he named after..."

"After Nymphadora's father, my husband."

"He was a muggle-born. The one who gave the snatchers so much trouble?"

"One of many." She said, and there was a fierce, proud, anguished look in her eyes, that startled him and wounded him. "He would have been so proud to see his grandson. Remus always thought that we were horrified that Nymphadora married him, but we were proud. He was a brave and good man, and he loved her, though he was a little bit old for her."

"I'm sorry that he can't know them." Draco said quietly.

"It's not your fault." Andromeda said, almost sharply.

"But I'm still sorry, they didn't deserve this."

"No. But their memory will live on, and Teddy will grow up knowing that they died so that he could live in a better world than the one they grew up in."

"I wish I'd done more, been brave like they were." He said. "Maybe if I had been things would have turned out better."

"Or they could have turned out much worse. You can't live in the past, Draco." She said kindly. "You can only move forward, if you look too long at the past it will spoil the future for you, and taint the memory of the loved ones who died."

"I don't think I loved anyone who died." He said starkly, "I was friends with...with one person, but I'm not sure I really loved anyone but my parents until recently. I didn't know you could."

"Then love now. And keep loving, even when it hurts." She replied.

"I'm afraid." He said, and he was surprised at his own honesty. "I'm trying to be brave, but it's hellishly hard...sorry...I..."

But she surprised him by laughing slightly, "It gets better...easier with time. Ted, my husband, taught me that. I was so afraid when I first realized that I was falling in love with him, I tried to stop, but I just couldn't. Loving him, letting go of family prejudices, it brought out what was best in me."

"Can I do anything?" He asked suddenly, pushing aside the growing tremor that rose in his mind.

She looked at him thoughtfully, and then said, "Harry is Teddy's godfather. He's going to be visiting regularly, to get to know him and talk to him about his mum and dad. Come, be family, get to know Teddy."

"I will." He said. "I wish I'd known your family, growing up. Things might have been...different."

"It must have been hard, growing up in that great big house all alone."

"It was lonely, but mother was always there and my father, well, he tried. They loved me, in their way."

"Your mother was always an easier person to love than Bellatrix, much more caring. Much more kind, in her own cold way."

He flinched at Bellatrix name, and she noticed.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Was she...was Bellatrix very hard to be around at the end?"

"Azkaban...it changed her, mother said, she was more than a little insane by the time she came to live with us. But she can't have been that amazing to begin with. I've...I've heard her talking about what she and Rodolfus and the others did to the Longbottoms...And I've seen what she was capable of..." He trailed off, interrupted by a cold, clammy wrench in the pit of his stomach as the image of an unconscious figure being shoved into Greyback’s arms rose in front of his eyes and he felt bile at the back of his throat.

"Bellatrix always was a little lacking in the finer emotions. I think she got the worst of the...that is to say, strange things happen when bloodlines are mixed too often...but, no need to get into that now." And, as if on cue, the baby began to cry heartily. Andromeda smiled down at him, making small, shushing noises, "He misses his mummy, poor lamb." She said. "I'd better take him up to the castle and feed him. It was...good to finally meet you, Draco."

"You as well." He said, and bowed to her, as she turned and headed towards the castle.

Draco followed her with his eyes as she walked away, and could hear the baby's cries, hearty and determined, inexplicably seeming to grow louder as she got farther from him. Then, the procession of mourners passed, coming away from the graves, led by a tearful Headmistress, who held her head high and proud, despite the tears that were visibly coursing down the soft wrinkles of her face and the small handful of black lace and linen clutched tightly in her hand. Flitwick walked behind her, wiping his eyes with a white handkerchief that was almost as big as he was. Then Hagrid, bawling into what appeared to be a large black tablecloth, with Professor Slughorn walking alongside him, patting Hagrid's back and dabbing at his own eyes with a large square of green silk. Pomona Sprout had her arm around a trembling Trelawny, who, in her grief, seemed to have confused one of her crystal balls with her handkerchief/ Firenze, the centaur, followed, looking dignified and noble, staring around with an abstract and interested air, as though the grief were something he could not quite understand.

And behind Firenze came Harry Potter, grim-faced, half-carrying Ginny Weasley, who appeared to have completely succumbed to grief, weak and white-faced and silent, her eyes closed and streaming. Arthur Weasley supporting his sobbing wife, his own face gray and wet. Percy Weasely, also crying openly, supported by Ron and Hermione who looked worn but stoic in their grief. Bill Weasely, the marks left by Greyback standing out harshly in his haggard face, holding his half-veela wife by the hand, his arm slung around another red-headed man, whose face was grim and hard.

Then came a muggle man and woman, holding hands and crying quietly, while a boy in wizard robes walked alongside them, his face blank and dazed. And Draco recognized him as Colin Creevey's brother, Dennis. And on and on the procession went, and Draco stood and watched, and felt the curious and sometimes hate-filled stares of the people who walked past, and he wondered if he should be there, and if he was only causing more pain. But he was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the anguished scene before him and twisting knife of remorse and regret that sent agonies through him.

As the procession disappeared into the school, Draco looked down at his watch. It was half past eleven; 30 minutes till the meal would take place. He looked around, and then headed over towards the new graves, reading as he went:

Colin Creevey, died bravely for his friends and for his school, still alive in love. 

Alavera McCreedy, gave her life defending the school she loved. Bravely she lived, bravely she loved, and bravely she died. Dead but not forgotten.

Remus Lupin: A dear friend, a loyal friend, a man who loved deeply, afflicted but not defeated, a man who loved well and was well loved by many.  And, on the same stone but farther down. Nymphadora Lupin-Tonks: A brave woman, kind and loyal, a good friend, treasured and beloved of many. In life they loved, not to be parted in death. 

Draco rounded the next set of stones but stopped, and hurried back towards Dumbledore's tomb instead. He had almost stumbled over George Weasely, sitting in front of his brother's grave, his face buried in his hands, unconscious of Draco’s presence.

Draco stood in the shadow of Dumbledore's tomb, wondering what to do. He knew that he was one of the last people the remaining twin would want to see right at that moment, but he wondered if anyone should be told, and if there was anything he could do. But the whole time, his mind screamed at him that this was not a situation that he was equipped for, and that comforting another bloke whose friends and family he had taken pleasure in tormenting was not something that was really going to work. And, besides that, comforting anyone was not really something that Draco, favored son of the houses of Black and Malfoy, had ever really been trained for. He was relieved, therefore, when he saw Harry hurry from the castle, and head directly towards where George Weasley sat. 

As Harry sat down next to George, the older man looked up and gave him a weak attempt at a smile. "Was it mum or dad sent you out here?" He asked, with unconvincing bravado.

"Ginny." Said Harry, simply, "She wanted to come check on you herself, but she's a bit ill at the moment, Hermione's looking after her."

"She's a sweet little terror." George said ruefully, "I don't think any of us really deserve having her as a sister."

"Nonsense." Said Harry, with a weak attempt at humor. "Bill's a great brother to her." George let out a hollow laugh, and shoved Harry half-heartedly in the shoulder.

They sat in silence for a while, the laugh had died too quickly and it left an empty wall between them. Then George nodded towards his brother's gravestone, which bore the inscription: Fred Weasely: Lived for laughter, and died with laughter on his lips. Fighting bravely for freedom and for right. 

"He was ready to die, you know." George said, "We both were. We tried to prepare for a scenario where only one of us would live, but we just couldn't do it. So, instead, we made a promise that whichever one survived would carry on the business...carry on laughing...but I can't seem to do it properly, the laughing. I always thought that I would be the one to go first, or that we'd go at the same time. I never imagined this..."

Harry looked at him, not knowing what to say, and he was glad he didn't because George continued speaking. "Does it ever stop hurting so badly?" He asked. "Does it ever stop feeling as though you were being ripped to pieces?" And there was blackness in his tone that struck Harry like a fist in the pit of his stomach, and Draco, who was standing frozen not far away, felt the knife thrust of sorrow and remorse that seemed to be haunting him through the day.

Harry was silent for a moment, wondering what to say to make things better, but the look in George's eyes told him that he needed to hear the truth, not platitudes, so he said, "It changes...over time. One day you feel like you are death itself, as though the world is crushing you and there is nothing you can do to carry on. But somehow you do it, because you know it's what they would want. And then, one day, you wake up and you can breath again, and you can forget for a little while and life continues. But then the grief...it just sweeps back over you like a fresh wound, and you have to live through it all over again. But you get used to it, the pain, and it gets easier to keep going. I think it's just love, you know, that makes you carry on. Your love for them, and their love for you."

"How many people have you lost Harry?" George asked quietly.

"I dunno. I can't count them, it's too hard to put it into numbers."

"I'm sorry, I never really understood before." George said, regret in his voice.

"It's okay. Your family's been brilliant really. Always made it bearable, knowing that I had you lot to come home to during the summer. I never knew what it felt like to have a family that cared before I met you..."

They were silent again, and then Harry said, "Dumbledore once told me, ages ago, back in first year, that death was just another great adventure. I keep thinking of that whenever I think of Fred. Well, for all of them, really, but Fred most of all. You two always seemed to be in one great big adventure, and it just seems fitting, somehow, thinking of this as just another one for Fred."

"I like that." George said hoarsely, "Great bloody git, heading off an adventure without me."

"I'm glad you're still here, George." Harry said, "I know it's selfish, but we couldn't bear to loose both of you."

George grimaced, "Sometimes I wish it had been me instead. I think Fred would have coped better with all of this. I...I just needed to say that to someone."

There was an awkward silence, and then Harry said, "Come on George. Let's go up to the castle. Your mum's making Fred's favorite pudding, and the house elves are having kittens over a witch doing actual work in their kitchens." 

"House elves having kittens? Now there's a thought." George said darkly, but as they walked away he threw a brotherly arm around Harry's shoulders. "You know, Harry, you really are family, and I'm really glad that Ginny has you. Mind, if you break her heart I will do unimaginably painful and horrifying things to you."

"I'm going to try and forget you said that. It's likely to give me nightmares." Harry returned, shuddering slightly. And George gave a dark, hollow laugh.

“Look at that, I laughed.” He said blankly.

“I hardly think that qualifies.” Harry said, and then they both let out a barking, mirthless chuckle.

Draco sat awkwardly on a chair in McGonagal's study, while Harry and Ron shared a sofa with Hermione. Kingsley Shacklebolt was talking in hurried, quiet tones with the Headmistress, who was peering over her glasses with a stern look that would have made anyone less brave than Kingsley shake in their boots. She appeared to be objecting to something he was saying. Draco thought he heard Ron mutter something about "Extendable Ears" and smirked slightly. Finally, after what felt like an interminable amount of time, they seemed to come to an unsatisfactory but acceptable agreement.

Kingsley turned to the four seated by the fire place, "I apologize for the delay." He said, his deep voice grim, but kind. The Headmistress and I wanted to meet with you to discuss arrangements for the inquiry that you have all agreed to be a part of."

They nodded, expectantly, and Kingsley sat down on a large armchair next to the desk. "The inquiries will begin on the first of June, and continue for the entire month, and possibly into July. The trials for known death eaters who have been captured will continue after that time. We will also be issuing warrants for those known Death Eaters who remain at large, which will mean that the three of you, but especially Draco, will be in grave danger for a period of time. It is imperative that you remain at the school for the time being, now that the protective enchantments have been restored, the castle is once again one of the safest and most secure places in Britain. Mr. Potter, once it is safe to return to number 12, you can arrange to have a new Fidalius Charm placed around the property. And I suggest that you, Mr. Malfoy, do the same with your Manor." Draco and Harry both nodded, looking strangely at each other.

"Miss Granger, I understand that you have some business to attend to in Australia?" The Minister asked.

Hermione looked at him, her face suddenly pale, "I...that is...yes. But if I need to wait...." She trailed off looking worn and oddly confused.

"If you wish I can arrange for the ministry in Australia to locate your family. But with Death Eaters on the loose, they will be safer if they remain anonymous for a little while longer."

Hermione nodded, her fists tightly clenched in her lap. "That's a good idea." She said hollowly, "I can go look for them at any point, whenever the Ministry thinks it will be safe. Although the help of the Ministry in Australia would be beneficial, I...I don't actually know where they are at the moment."

Draco swore suddenly, surprising everyone in the room.

"What's your problem, Malfoy?" Ron said, turning on him furiously, while the others looked at him quizzically.

"N...nothing. I'm sorry, that was inappropriate," He said, giving Hermione, a regretful look. "I...apologize."

Ron flung his arm around Hermione, who was staring at her shaking hands, giving him a vengeful stare. But Kingsley and Harry looked at him with a question in their eyes. He shook his head subtly. Kingsley pulled a collection of rolled parchment from his cloak and handed them each one. There was the official ministry seal in red wax on each roll.

"These," Said the Minister, "are your summons to appear before the Wizengamot. The four of you have the most valuable and important information for the ministry among all the witnesses of your age. Therefore you are scheduled to appear before the ministry on the same day, which is scheduled to take place on the 8th of June. You will be appearing one at a time before the Wizengamot, and then as a group at the end to answer final questions. A room and refreshments will be provided for the day, but I suggest you bring any form of entertainment that you may require for a long day. Any questions?"

"What order will we be appearing in?" Asked Draco.

"Mr. Potter first, followed by Mr. Weasely and Miss Granger, and you will come at the end." Said Kingsley.

"Is there anything we should do to prepare ourselves for the inquiry?" Hermione asked.

"It will probably be useful for you to commit to memory any events or facts that would be useful to the inquiry." He looked at Draco, "That goes for you especially, Mr. Malfoy, any persons, facts, or events that might be useful and helpful to us are vital at this time. Several high-ranking Death Eaters are still at large, and it will be imperative for us to catch them, lest one of them rise up and try to take his master's place."

Draco nodded grimly, and said, "I know that my uncle is still free, as are Travers and Yaxley, I do not know the names of all those who were captured at the end of the battle. Lists of names of those you have in custody would be helpful."

"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Malfoy." Kingsley said. "Very well, then, I will see you all next week, I will be stopping in personally as often as I can to check on the progress of the school. I did receive your very interesting owl the other day, if you wish to discuss the matter further, I believe that Mr. Potter and myself can be available for a few more minutes."

He turned a quizzical eye to Harry, who replied, "Yes, of course. Not too long, though, I need to say goodbye to my godson." He blushed slightly, as though the phrase was a strange one to him.

"I would...appreciate that." Said Draco, "If it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all." Said Kingsley, turning a firm eye towards Ron and Hermione, "Thank you very much for your valuable time, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasely, I do not want to keep you from your friends and family any longer."

"What?" Ron asked. But Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, and nodded towards the door, "Oh, right." He said looking sheepish and they both rose, and said their goodbyes to the Minister, who Hermione hugged warmly leaving him looking a little taken aback. And they left the study quickly.

“Now, Mr. Malfoy.” Shacklebolt said, “Would you care to explain your rather unfortunate outburst earlier, before we get into the…other interesting business at hand?”

“Yes, of course, sir.” Draco said, feeling ashamed, “Hermione’s parents were known to the Dark Lord…Lord Voldemort, that is, and the night that he took over the Ministry the location of their home was found. He sent two Death Eaters to their house to apprehend them and use them as bait. But, when they reached the house they were gone, without a trace. I believe that they may have destroyed, or nearly destroyed the house in their anger and fear. The Dark Lord was not…kind to his followers who failed in a quest he laid out for them, even if the failure was beyond their control.” And he felt his eyes darken, as memories of torture and pain reverberated against his internal defenses.