Saving your life

She couldn’t open her eyes, but felt the tug in her belly that signalled Apparition. She could hear noises around her, but they were too faint. Someone was screaming, and she wasn’t sure it wasn’t her. She felt something hard and cold against her lips, and tried to move her head away, but her body wouldn’t respond. A dense liquid burned down her throat, and she spluttered and coughed, but after a few seconds the pain seemed to lessen, and the screaming stopped.

She opened her mouth and took a deep breath, as if she had been drowning seconds before.

“Hermione?” a voice asked softly from somewhere nearby, and she tried to respond, but her throat was too dry, and still burned a bit. “Are you awake?” he asked again, for it was clearly a man’s voice. She nodded and regretted it instantly, the movement bringing the pain back.

“Here,” the voice said, his hand behind her head, helping her up as he put a glass by her lips. “Drink,” he ordered firmly, and when she didn’t, he sighed in exasperation, tilting the glass as he said, “It’s just a potion for the pain.”

Well, if he wanted to hurt her, why would he bother saying it was for the pain? She thought to herself, and hesitantly took a sip.

She heard him call a name, something that sounded like Pippy, or Mippy, or maybe Dippy, and a shrill voice that could only belong to a House elf answered, “Yes, Master.”

“Get me the red and the purple vials from the other room,” he ordered, and heard the faint footsteps leave the room and return after a few moments. “If anyone should ask, you never saw me here, or her either, understood?” he commanded firmly, and the elf squeaked in fright and answered, “Yes, young Master Malfoy, sir,” before a loud pop told her it had left.

“Malfoy?” she asked, opening her eyes and trying to get up.

“Don’t,” he said firmly, pushing her back against the couch by her shoulders.

“Where am I?” she asked, her voice still hoarse.

“We are in a vacation villa my family owns, but we haven’t used it in years, so I doubt they will find us.”

“Why am I here?” she asked then. The last thing she could remember was sitting on her bed in the tent, and taking the potion. “Harry and Ron,” she said, suddenly alarmed, turning to the door, as if expecting them to burst in any second. “Where are they? What’s happened?”

“I’m sure they are just fine, you can go to them as soon as you recover.”

“I can go now,” she said, trying to get up, but he would have none of it.

“Stay right where you are,” he said, firmly, pushing her back again. “You are in no condition to Apparate anywhere.”

“How did I get here?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“Oh, no, love, you’ve asked enough questions already. It’s my turn now,” he said. “What is this?” he asked then, showing her the bottle she knew had held the potion.

The potion. She had taken it to remember, but why hadn’t it worked? Harry had told her that, even when he hadn’t seen what he wanted to, it had always shown him something. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. She had sat down on the bed, and had drunk the contents of the small bottle Draco was holding right now. It had been half full, and Harry had told her the whole bottle was enough for two attempts, so she knew she hadn’t taken too much. Everything had gone dark for a moment, and then she had seen herself walking down Diagon Alley, the last thing she could remember.

She had moved around in the memory, following her other self as she looked at the people passing by. Two figures caught her attention only a few seconds later. Why would someone wear cloaks and even cover their heads with hoods, on a sunny afternoon? She had watched them walk past her memory self, and saw her stiffen and turn around to watch them too. she frowned and tried to step closer to them, but as she did, everything went black again, and she screamed in pain, feeling as if someone was drilling her brain, like her whole head was about to explode.

“Hey,” Draco said, snapping his fingers in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. “What’s this?” he repeated.

“Looks like a bottle,” she said, trying to get up again.

“Stay right where you are, or I’ll tie you to the couch, though it’s not much of a threat, seeing as how much you enjoyed it last time,” he said, with a wicked smile, making her flush instantly as she lay back again, avoiding his eyes. “Now, answer the question,” he said, rising the bottle again.

He didn’t know? If she had trusted him so much, then why hadn’t she told him about the potion? And what else did he ignore?

“It was just an experimental potion,” she lied, and when he raised an eyebrow questioningly, she continued with a sigh, “It was supposed to make our magic stronger, but it obviously didn’t work.”

“You could have gotten yourself hilled, what were you thinking, experimenting like that?”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Why am I here?”

“The Dark Lord found out where you were, and send his Death Eaters after you. I got there first, to warn you, and found you lying on your bed, unconscious and screaming in pain. We couldn’t wake you up, so I brought you here. Potter and Weasley stayed behind, so the Death Eaters wouldn’t know you had been warned.

“They stayed there?” she asked worriedly. “I have to find them, have to make sure they are all right,” she said, and this time he didn’t stop her as she got up.

“Calm down,” he said, when she swayed a little, from getting up so fast, and handed her one of the flasks the elf had brought him. When she hesitated and took a closer look, he said impatiently, “It’s just some Pepper Up Potion.”

She drank the potion he had given her and looked around the room for the first time, only then noticing she was in a big library. She saw her bag on the floor, and her wand lying on top of it. She quickly took the wand, and was about to Disapparate when his hand on her arm stopped her.

“Don’t,” he said, seriously, turning her to face him. “You can’t Apparate in or out of here unless you are with a Malfoy, and if I lift the wards they will know it.”

“So you are telling me I’m stuck here?”

“No, I’m telling you we are going together. Now wait here until I come back, and then we can go find those idiots you call friends,” he said, stepping out of the room and locking the door behind him.

It didn’t look like she had any choice but wait, and so, with a sigh, she walked over to the wall, her eyes going through the titles of the books it held.

They all seemed to be related to Dark Magic, charms, curses, potions, creatures… just about everything and anything one could think of. As she moved over to the last bookshelf, she gasped loudly, her eyes glued to a small book with golden letters on it. Memory Charms.

Merlin, she had been so stupid! All this time, and she hadn’t even considered the possibility. She had always assumed her memory loss was in some way a consequence of the attack she had suffered, and had acted accordingly, searching for potions or spells that would release a simply repressed memory.

Now she knew better; now she knew why the potion hadn’t worked. Someone had done that to her, someone had knowingly taken her memories away.

What could she possibly had known, what could she had discovered, for someone to do that to her?

Now that she thought about it, she realized whoever had done it, they had been careful, wanting to make it look like an accident. A simple “Obliviate” would have done the job, but it would have definitely had consequences.

Hearing faint footsteps outside, she quickly took the small book, reduced it, and threw it inside her bag, hoping he wouldn’t notice it was missing. She sat down again, trying to look innocent as he opened the door and stepped back inside.

“Ready?” he asked, and she nodded. “Come here,” he said then, and wound his arm around hers. “Hold on tight,” he said, and Apparated them both to a dark, deserted street. “They said you would know where to find them,” he whispered, and she nodded. “They saw me, and I had to tell them I was your contact, so you will have lots of explaining to do. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I think it would be better if I went alone,” she answered.

“You still have the coin, right? He asked, and she reached inside her pocket and pulled it out, showing it to him.

“Good, keep it with you. I’ll see if I can find out how they found you, and let you know.”

“Thank you,” she said truthfully, and Apparated away.

They had agreed on a safe place to meet should something happen, the day they had left headquarters to search for the remaining Horcruxes, and now she knew it had been a good idea.

She Apparated at a dark alley and looked around to make sure she was alone before heading to the small Muggle hotel just around the corner. She opened the door and stepped inside, careful not to make any sound when she noticed the man in man behind the reception desk dozing off. She made her way up the stairs, to the second floor, and down the hallway, until she stood right between doors 23 and 25.

They had rented the room the day after visiting Godric’s Hollow, and even though she could not yet cast a Fidelius Charm, she protected the room in every other magical way she knew, which was saying something.

She reached inside her bag and pulled out an old looking key. There were only three of them, and wouldn’t work for anyone other than the person they were made for. She waved her wand at the wall and suddenly a wooden door appeared.

It took her a few minutes to carefully lift the wards she had placed, and then used the key to open the door. If anyone tried to open it without the key, or even lifted the wards in the wrong order, they would know right away, and would have enough time left to safely get out of the hotel before anyone could reach them.

She heard the lock click, and then slowly pushed the door open, holding out her hands when she saw Harry and Ron aiming their wands at her.

“Oh, Hermione, it’s you,” Harry said, lowering his wand, but as he tried to get up Ron stopped him.

“How do we know it’s really you?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Well, I got inside without setting the alarm off,” she said, “Oh, please,” she said, when he lifted his eyebrow but remained silent. “You don’t want to do this.”

“You always say we should be careful,” he said, ignoring Harry’s protests.

“Very well, let me think,” she said, and then smiled evilly at him. “You have a dirty magazine under your bed at the Burrow,” she told him, and watched his eyes widen. “I never would have thought you liked leather that much,” she teased, watching him go red, and then Harry covering his mouth when Ron glared at him for laughing.

“How do you know that?” Harry asked, between laughs.

“Ginny found it a few years ago, one afternoon when she was helping him look for his rat,” she answered with a shrug, not paying any mind to Ron’s mumble of “It wasn’t mine.”

“What’s with you and Malfoy?” he suddenly asked seriously, wanting to change the subject and causing the atmosphere to cool in a second.

She stopped laughing, and looked at them. They weren’t laughing, or even smiling. They actually looked worried, curious and angry at the same time, and she was suddenly glad she had decided to face them alone.

“What did he do to you?” Harry added.

“Nothing, he just gave me a few potions to wake me up, and then I came here.”

“How did he find us? I thought the wards around the tent should have protected us.”

“I don’t know, but it was a good thing he did. What happened after we left?”

“Well, just what your little friend said would happen, the Death Eaters attacked us. What were you doing with him? He said he was your contact,” Ron said, still upset.

“That’s right,” she simply answered.

“But Malfoy? He’s even worse than Snape! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. I couldn’t remember who had been the one working with me, and thought it might just be a trap or something, so I decided to wait until I knew for sure before telling anyone.”

“What do you mean know for sure? Couldn’t you just ask Snape or something?”

“He refused to tell me anything every time I asked,” she answered. “Besides, Malfoy told me he thinks he might be really working for Voldemort.”

“What? But we saw his memories,” Harry said, clearly shocked and confused.

“I know, Harry, I’m just telling you what Malfoy said. He has helped a lot, especially tonight, so maybe you two should give him a break. Perhaps I can arrange a meeting, with all four of us, so we can discuss it.”

“I’m not sure I want to go anywhere near Malfoy,” Ron muttered, and she was just about to respond when she suddenly felt the room spin around her, and it was only Harry’s fast reflexes and strong arms that prevented her from falling.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a concerned tone.

“I’m fine, just a little dizzy,” she answered.

“What happened when you took the potion?” he asked, as he helped her sit. She looked at him confused, and he sighed and continued. “We know you took it, we saw the empty bottle. I knew you would end up trying it, and was actually starting to wonder what was taking you so long,” he said, with a small smile.

“I didn’t see anything,” she answered, shaking her head. “Just went back to the last few minutes I could remember, and then all went black, and my head felt about to burst open.”

“Well, that’s weird,” he muttered, and she nodded.

“I think we should all get some rest,” Ron interrupted. “We can talk about this in the morning, as we decide what to do next.”

She didn’t really feel like going to bed yet, but wanted some time to herself, so she agreed and let Harry help her to the room they had made for her, when they had enlarged the place.

As soon as she was alone, she reached for her bag and pulled out the book she had taken from Draco, a rush of excitement flowing through her veins at the thought of finding something that would help her remember.

She read every single page in the book, but there was no memory charm in there that fit, most of them had terrible side effects, and only worked on erasing and modifying memories for short periods of time. Still, she was sure her memory loss hadn’t been an accident, and she was more determined than ever to find out the truth. If someone had gone to such lengths to make her forget, she was sure it was something important. She needed to know.

It took her hours, but she finally made a decision.

There was one spell in the book, designed to release suppressed memories, which worked on memory loss that was a result of magic. It was dark magic, and rather complicated, but she knew she had to do something, and there weren’t many other choices.

And so she took a deep breath, reached for her wand, and took every single step the book described, careful as to not make any mistakes. She read the words to the spell out loud, but started feeling her power drain off as she did. There was only one more line to go, just three more words and it would be over. She moved her wand in a small circle, her mouth dry as she said the last word, and then a blast shot from her wand, a blinding light, and nothing else.

Harry and Ron ran into her bedroom, alerted by the sound, to find her lying on the floor, her wand firmly in one hand, the book in the other. With shaking hands they made sure she was still breathing, although just barely, and without wasting a second, Harry pointed his wand at one of the books that had fallen to the floor, turned it into a Portkey, and then took her in his arms.

“We have to get her to a healer,” he said, turning to Ron, who just nodded and moved closer. Leaning down, they both touched the Portkey at the same time, and were instantly transported away.

They appeared right in front of headquarters, and Ron opened the door for Harry.

“Is anyone here?” he yelled, as Harry laid Hermione on the couch. “Hello?” he yelled again, and after a few more minutes they heard the first steps down the stairs.

“Ron?” Molly asked, as she walked into the room. “What’s happened? Oh, dear Merlin,” she muttered, when she saw Hermione.

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked sleepily, as she walked down, followed by her brothers and Remus.

“What’s happened to her?” Molly asked them, worriedly.

“We don’t know, but she won’t wake up,” Harry answered, and turned to Remus, who instantly moved closer.

“Where’s Madam Pomfrey?” Ron asked, as he was pushed aside by Remus.

“She’s not here, she went back to Hogwarts,” his mother answered, moving back a bit to let Remus take over.

“Maybe we should take her to St. Mungo’s,” Harry suggested.

“Can’t, they’d ask too many questions, and inform the Ministry,” he said, as he tried a few spells to wake her. “Get Snape here,” he said urgently, turning to Molly, who moved to the fireplace, threw some Floo Powder into the flames, and then popped her head inside.

Barely a second later, they heard the door open, and Snape strode in.

“What’s going on?” he asked, as he walked over to where they were standing. “What’s happened to her,” he asked then, turning to Harry and Ron.

“We don’t know, we just heard a blast, and found her on the floor like this.”

“The usual spells won’t work,” Remus told him, as Severus pulled out his wand.

Without saying another word, he easily lifted her off the couch and pulled her closer to his chest, carrying her to the room in the back where they kept all the potions, barking, “Out of the way,” as he moved.