The Burden of Memory

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Shannon for looking this over for me. This story is coming to a close, there are maybe 2 chapters left.

Chapter 22 Regained

Draco barely had his bearings from the distant apparition when Harry threw him to the ground, his wand drawn as he began scanning the small empty street. Draco’s heart skipped with panic as he wondered what Harry had sensed that he could not. It took a moment for the facts to settle in, but as Draco looked on, he began to see the forms of Death Eaters and Hogsmeade villagers dueling all around them.

He yanked sharply on Harry’s trouser leg –pulling him roughly to the ground along side him, and began to stand up and brush himself off.

“Draco, stop-“ Harry began to protest but Draco merely shook his head and cringed at the about of dirt that flew out of it as he did so.

“It’s an echo. We’re under the influence of the potion still,” he reminded Harry, who looked suitably sheepish for his overreaction.

“Right. Sorry,” he muttered but Draco laced his grubby fingers with Harry’s and pulled him along, up the path and toward the gate that would lead them onto school grounds.

It was eerily quiet despite the misty battle that raged all around them. Every once in a while they would come across something that wasn’t war related at all, and Harry would pause, watching ancient students have lunch under a tree with their friends or involuntarily duck when a ghost-like broom swooped too close to their heads.

They roamed the grounds, Harry letting Draco take the lead for what seemed like hours. Harry knew that wasn’t possible however, because they were still under the effects of the potion coursing through their veins. It wasn’t until Draco stopped short, causing a daydreaming Harry to run right into him, that he started to suspect the potion was wearing off. They had just passed Hagrid’s hut and were nearing the edge of the Forbidden Forest, which looked no less ominous now that they were adults as it did when they were eleven.

“You went this way?” Harry asked suspiciously, eyeing the very path he took on that fateful day he ended the war.

“I think I did,” Draco whispered, walking slowly toward the shadowy forest. Harry followed closely, his heart rate speeding as he walked. The area was so familiar –even after all the time that had passed Harry felt as though he recognized every leaf on every tree as they made their trek into the dark.

A flicker of light passed before them and Harry realized with wide eyes that it was him; him and his dead family.

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The Ministry corridor was empty, but that didn’t stop Ron from making an arse of himself. He had insisted in accompanying Hermione on her ‘covert operation’, which he’d happily given the title ‘Operation Saving Harry from Evil Death Eaters’. He refused to rename it no matter how many times Hermione called it childish or remarked on the inefficiency of such a long name.

Lara had recently introduced him to the world of muggle television and James Bond movies, which normally Hermione would take no offence to except Ron was pretending they were in one of them. He even wore a tuxedo.

As she watched her friend, and thankfully former boyfriend, raise his hands as if holding a pistol and jump around the corner she rolled her eyes. He’d been doing that at every intersection and no amount of swearing on her part would make him stop. It had been funny the first time, even mildly cute the second and third but after that he simply became and annoying hindrance to an already long night.

“Ron,” she hissed for what felt like the hundredth time, but he didn’t answer. “Ron,” she repeated, this time with narrowed eyes, but he ignored her yet again. “Flaming Lion?” she muttered with unmasked disdain and this time he turned around.

“Yes, bookworm?” he replied and she nearly slugged him. It had been another one of his bright ideas to give them each codenames as well, as if the rest of his act wasn’t enough.

“Would you stop it,” she shouted, finally having quite enough. “Maybe you should go back to Lara’s and role play with her? Then I can focus on saving our friend” she growled.

His face fell instantly and he leaned against the wall. “I want to help Harry too, Mione. I was just trying to lighten the mood,” he sulked.

Hermione sighed and nodded, giving into his pout. “Fine. But you’re being a distraction. It’s late, no one’s here and we really need to get into that office.”

Ron nodded solemnly and fell into step beside Hermione, his wand at the ready in case anyone else should approach.

After hours of research Hermione found the man from Draco’s memories and the deep dungeon office he worked out of. The location fit Draco’s description of where they first met, but Hermione hoped they would find something more solid to link Grubner to the case –if they were ever even able to establish a case.

“This is it,” she whispered as they came upon a slatted wooden door.

Ron shivered slightly and reached for the knob, but Hermione brushed his hand away. He looked at her curiously as she waved her wand back and forth across the entrance. After the fifth wave a shimmering blue fog tinged the air but Hermione kept waving. By the time she was through no less than ten faint lights hovered in different areas of the door and as he looked on, Hermione cast spell after spell to disband every single one of them.

“What was all that?” Ron asked, gaping in surprise.

“Really, Ron. Don’t you ever bother reading a book every now and then? They are very informative,” she quipped, but he simply rolled his eyes. “Grubner had put security jinxes on the entryway. He’s probably done the same inside, so don’t touch anything until I clear the area.”

“What would have happened to me?” he asked breathlessly, sudden concern creasing his forehead into a frown.

“Well, for starters you would have shrank a bit,” she warned.

“A bit? Well, that’s not so bad. I am taller than a lot of my friends,” Ron mused.

“Right. That’s true. It might be nice to be shorter than everyone for a while. Why at the height that curse would have made you, you’d be nearly to my hips, which is the perfect height for gardening,” she replied with a wicked smile.

“Okay, okay. I get your point. What else?” he asked; now more curious than anything.

“How much do you like the color blue?” she asked. “Because all of your skin would have been that color, before it began turning inside out that is.”

“Yeesh,” Ron balked. “What kind of a loony is this guy? Do I even want to know the other eight things?”

“Let’s just say you’d be sufficiently dead and happy for it,” she informed him firmly. “Now don’t. Touch. Anything,” she reminded him and he nodded vigorously.

In all honesty the jinxes on the door would have simply put Ron into a deep slumber and sounded an alarm that the spell caster would surely hear and promptly respond to. She had no doubt that Ron would have ignored her though had she told him that story instead and then he’d set something off on accident inside.

Ever the gentleman, Ron let her enter the office first where she quickly scanned the room for more curses and then waved him inside. Together they inspected desk drawers, filing cabinets, and creaky floorboards –anything they could think of and kept turning up empty handed.

Exhausted Ron collapsed into the swirling leather desk chair and sighed. “We’ve looked through every dusty bin in this place, Mione. I don’t think there’s anything here.”

“There has to be,” Hermione muttered as she continued to sift through a stack of parchments, which turned out to be nothing more than a pile of overdue medical invoices.

“Well, unless there’s a safe behind that ballerina portrait, I’d say we’re finished here,” he added jokingly, and Hermione’s head shot up as she stared at the portrait she must have looked at a dozen times but never really seen.

“Ron, you’re a genius!” she shouted and ran straight over to the odd little portrait. Ron beamed and her and rushed over, expecting her to pull the portrait down so that he could try his safe hacking skills, but instead she simply whispered to the young girl in the painting.

“Sweetie,” she cooed. “Do you think you could help me with something?”

The tiny ballerina curtsied and smiled bashfully at Hermione. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, but you seem nice,” the little girl replied.

“I’m trying to help a friend of mine,” she began, pulling out a picture of Harry from her robe pocket. “He’s in trouble and I wonder if the man who works here might know something.”

The little girl’s face grew creased and worn and she frowned deeply. “That Mr. Grubner is a bad man,” she whined.

“I know he is. That’s why I think you can help us. You see, he’s trying to hurt our Harry,” she began.

“Harry Potter?” the girl squealed, interrupting her. “Are you really friends with Harry Potter?”

“Yes, Ron and I,” she began again and the little girl began jumping up and down with excitement.

“Oh, you’re Hermione Granger, and that’s Ron Weasley!” she exclaimed and the pair nodded in reply.

“So you’ll help us then? Tell us everything you know?” Hermione prodded.

“Of course!” she announced proudly. “Though I don’t know much.”

“Did you ever here him talking about the other people he works with?” Hermione asked.

“Well, there’s a rather short man who comes in a lot,” she mused. “His name was Amycus. And a really icky looking witch always comes with him, but she doesn’t talk much.”

“Sounds like the Carrows,” Ron noted and Hermione agreed.

“Anyone else? Anyone who looks like they work here?” Hermione pried.

The girl mulled it over for a moment but eventually shook her head. “There was a blonde boy once, but no other visitors. No one likes to come down here. But he does get a lot of letters from Dolores Umbridge,” she added quickly.

“Umbridge!” the pair shouted in unison, causing the small girl to jump.

“She’s got to be behind all this. She’s had a vendetta against Harry from the beginning!” Ron exclaimed.

“There is a safe behind me where he stores all of her letters,” the girl told them and Ron nudged Hermione, who smiled at her brilliant friend. The portrait swung open revealing a small thick steel door and Hermione raised her wand to try a barrage of unlocking spells until the girl called out the password.

Allowing Ron to do the honors, Hermione stepped aside and watched over his shoulder as he selected the three, followed consecutively by the eight, four and one. He spun the dial and yanked the safe door open revealing a stack of hopefully incriminating letters.

“Thank you so much!” Hermione told the girl. “I’ll be sure Harry knows that you helped us so much!”

“Oh, do you think he’ll come meet me?” she squealed.

“I think we might be able to arrange that,” Ron replied while Hermione nodded.

“You’d better go then,” the girl whispered. “I won’t say a word.”

The pair quickly scrambled with their stolen evidence and left the Ministry building as covertly as they could manage.

“Good work, Flaming Lion,” Hermione complimented with a wink.

“No too shabby yourself, Bookworm,” Ron called back, grinning ear to ear. “Meet at Harry’s tomorrow to look all this over?” he asked and Hermione nodded swiftly.

“Lunchtime, alright?” she asked before Ron agreed and they both apparated to their separate flats thinking about what a good team they still made in spite of everything.

---------------------------------------------------

Draco gaped at the sight before him. All at once it felt both foreign and familiar to see Harry standing there talking to people who Draco didn’t entirely recognize but could make a guess at. Remus Lupin was obvious, as was Sirius Black, but the other two Draco had never seen before, except in the reflection of his boyfriend.

“Are those your parents?” he asked, but got no answer. He turned to look behind him and found Harry staring sorrowfully at the sight before them. With nimble fingers, Draco reached out and clasped his boyfriend’s hand, pulling the boy against him. “We can leave if you want to, Harry,” he whispered, but Harry shook his head.

A tiny wet droplet soaked into his shoulder and Draco feathered his hands through Harry’s wild mane. “It helped me,” Harry rasped through what sounded like a sore throat. “Seeing them helped me for what I had to do next.”

“What did you do?” Draco asked, but Harry pulled away, keeping only their hands entwined and followed the specter Harry further into the woods.

It didn’t take long for Draco to get an answer to his question, though Harry never spoke again. Soon enough they came upon a clearing and there, among his merry band of Death Eaters was Voldemort himself, sneering across the glade at a helpless boy who didn’t even bother to raise his wand and fight back.

“It looks so strange from back here,” Harry whispered. “You can’t see how badly I was shaking, but I was. I was trembling, not from fear as much as knowing this was the end. I was going to die and I had no idea what would come after that.”

“But you didn’t” Draco corrected. “You couldn’t have.”

“I did,” Harry rasped. “I fell under his killing curse and it tore the last bit of Voldemort’s soul away. It had been trapped inside of me the whole time, keeping him alive, keeping him connected to me.”

“So how?’ Draco asked, unable to say any more because Voldemort drew his wand and aimed it at Harry’s chest. A brilliant green light erupted from the tip of it, and Draco screamed involuntarily as he watched the echo of his boyfriend fall to his knees with vacant eyes and then collapse face first into the dirt. He wanted to rush to the boy’s side to see for himself if it was real, but Harry’s hand in his own stilled his movements.

Voldemort collapsed as well but only Draco’s aunt went to his side, the rest stared between the two in confusion. Draco’s mother moved closer to Harry, and at first Draco didn’t understand why until Voldemort rose and ordered her to check on the fallen Harry to confirm that the boy was in fact dead.

“She asked me about you,” Harry narrated. “She wanted to know if you were okay and I told her that you were. She lied to him for me, well for you really.”

Harry turned away then, knowing what would come next and couldn’t bear to see the look of distraught on Hagrid’s face as he was ordered to carry him from the forest and back toward the school.

After a moment he heard an anguished scream and turned to find Draco on his knees, palms held flat against his temples is if he was trying to flatten his head. He rushed immediately to his boyfriend’s side and saw his steely gray eyes had turned milky white. In a panic, Harry shouted his name over and over, trying desperately to get Draco to answer him but the boy seemed caught in a trance.

Harry was near to apparating them both to St. Mungo’s when Draco blinked rapidly and fell into the Gryffindor’s waiting arms. “Draco?” he whispered.

“I remember it all, Harry. Everything, it’s all back,” Draco rasped.

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Authors note: I'm going to start asking you to rate my cliffhangers on a five star scale. 5 being uber evil and 1 being barely noticible.. lol