Saving your life

“Hermione, are you all right?” the voices asked as she stepped out of the room, leaving Snape behind. What was she supposed to say? She didn’t even know the answer herself.

“I’m fine,” she finally assured them, mostly because she wanted them to shut up. She couldn’t think with all the voices, all the questions, and they were so close she couldn’t breathe.

“Careful there,” one voice covered the other ones, and strong arms circled her waist as she stumbled backwards. “Maybe you should lie down a bit longer,” he said, and she recognized Kingsley’s voice.

“No, I’m fine,” she answered, stepping out of his embrace just as the door behind her opened again and Snape walked out. They all started talking at once again, asking him what had happened, and thanking him for helping her, and she covered her ears with her hands, trying to block the sounds out.

“Hey,” Harry said, turning to her again and taking her hands in his. “What’s wrong?” he asked concerned.

“Nothing, my head just hurts a bit,” she said, hating the fact that they were all focused on her again.

“Can you walk?” he asked, and she nodded. “Okay, let’s get you up to bed then,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist to help her walk up the stairs. She heard a few more voices, some agreeing, others wanting to know what had happened, but she paid them no mind as she made her way into her room, with Harry’s help.

Suddenly, she was incredibly tired, as if she hadn’t slept in weeks, and she barely registered Harry leaving, her eyelids too heavy to keep her eyes open.

It was a strange dream she had. It started off with her in Diagon Alley, walking back to headquarters and noticing the two hooded figures, just what she had seen when she had taken the potion, only this time, the pain didn’t come.

She turned around and followed the two men, because, for some reason, she knew they were two men, out of the Alley and into Muggle London. A few more steps and everything around her changed. She was lying on the floor now, surrounded by masked Death Eaters, her body writhing as their curses hit her. She didn’t feel pain, but could see blood soon covering her skin.

The images were blurry, and she couldn’t make out much, but it was a dream, and she knew what was happening, for the most part. She was chained to a wall next, and there was a man standing in front of her. He leaned closer and kissed her neck.

“What are you doing?” she had asked. It was the same thing she had seen in the infirmary, when Snape had pushed her against the door and she had hit her head. Still, she couldn’t see who the man was; she knew he was someone familiar, but couldn’t remember who.

He kissed her then, and before long she was returning the kiss, knowing deep down, he was trying to help her. Everything started going faster then, his hands on her body, his hot breath by her neck, his erection slowly pushing inside of her, and then they were standing in a dark street, his lips on hers as he kissed her once more before Apparating away.

She woke up with a start; what had that been about? It seemed like the spell she had used was working, but not as it was supposed to. Who had been that man? From what she had gathered the last few weeks, it would be Draco, but it didn’t seem right.

She was still tired, but knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep, so she decided to get up and go to the kitchen to get some breakfast. She had to be careful with what she said around everyone, though; she couldn’t let the one that had taken her memories away know she was starting to remember, or they would do it again, or worse.

It was a bit late, and everyone had already finished breakfast, so she thankfully got to be alone for a little longer. She had just finished her coffee, though, when Molly entered the kitchen, walking over to where she was sitting as soon as she saw her, asking her how she was feeling, scolding her for leaving, and wanting to know what had happened, all at the same time. It took her over ten minutes to get away, having to tell Molly she wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go back to bed so that she would finally let her go.

She was walking down the hallway towards the stairs when she stopped dead on her tracks, by the library. Someone had just spoken her name.

“I know, Ron, but I’m worried about her,” she heard Harry mutter. “She’s been acting weird lately.”

“And not just that; you saw the book she was holding last night when we found her, right?”

“Yeah, I did. I guess she tried something from it to get her memories back.”

“But it was Dark Magic, mate; what was she doing with that?”

“No idea. Plus, she’s all secretive again; she’s not the Hermione we used to know.”

“Maybe she’s been spending too much time with the ferret.”

“That’s the other thing; after Snape, I thought nothing else would surprise me, but now this… I can’t believe she’s been meeting with him, and never told us; we would have helped her. She needs to trust us.”

“Maybe we should talk to her, and listen to what she has to say.”

“It would probably be the best way; Merlin knows being sneaky doesn’t work.”

“Oh, my, remember the day we followed her?” Ron asked, laughing.

“I swear, mate, the look on her face, I thought she was going to torture us to death.”

“I still don’t know how we got away without a scratch; I thought…”

But she didn’t get to hear the rest, as in that precise moment the door opened and the first Order members arrived for the meeting. Not wanting to be caught listening, she hurriedly moved up he stairs and back into her bedroom.

They were right, and she knew it. And so was Snape. What she had done had been plain stupid, using a spell she knew nothing of, without even practicing a few times before, and knowing it was meant to be used on another person, and not on the caster itself. But she had been desperate, wanting to remember everything that had happened to her, partly because she thought it might help her friends, and partly because, deep inside, she felt it was really important.

And she shouldn’t have kept information from them either, but she hadn’t been sure she could trust Malfoy at first, and then, when she finally believed him, she hadn’t told them either, knowing it would just be too hard to explain, that they might not understand. They would probably have refused to accept his help, even when they needed the information he could provide. But now Harry and Ron knew the truth, and they didn’t reject her, or suspect her; they were just worried for their friend. She should have known they’d understand.

Lying in bed, lost in thought, she barely noticed the hours go by, and not until Ginny told her lunch was ready did she realize how late it was. She ran down the stairs, wanting to eat as fast as she could so she could get away quickly. She didn’t feel like being around people, and wanted to get some sleep, hoping she would remember more.

Not paying attention to where she was going, she entered the kitchen and hit something solid, falling to the floor ungracefully. It took her a few seconds to realize it wasn’t a something, but a someone.

“Careful there,” Kingsley said in his deep voice, as he offered to help her up. “Are you all right?” he asked, as she stood.

But she wasn’t really listening to him anymore; her eyes were locked on their joint hands. It was a strange sense of Déjà Vu, but she wasn’t sure what to make of it. She noticed him tense, and looked at him. He was looking back at her, confused, and she finally let go of him, but as she did, her gaze went back to her empty hand.

“I had a paper,” she muttered, almost to herself. “I had a note, and I gave it to you.” He quickly retrieved his hand when he heard her, but didn’t say anything. “I gave it to you,” she repeated, and closed her eyes, trying to remember more, but nothing else came.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this here,” he whispered, and she looked back at him, shaking her head to try and clear her mind. “Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, at ten,” he said, and then turned back around, waving everyone goodbye before leaving.

She spent the rest of the day wondering what Kingsley could possibly know, to not want to talk about it in front of others, and trying to decide what to ask, if he agreed to answer her questions. She wanted to tell Harry and Ron she was meeting him and that she was starting to remember, but she didn’t want to worry them, and she was sure they would start asking too many questions if they knew; besides, it wasn’t like she had remembered anything important, right?

She was almost half an hour late, but she had had to wait for Ginny to go to bed before sneaking out. She entered the Leaky Cauldron and searched the room with her eyes, easily finding the Auror sitting at one of the far tables, by the stairs.

“You’re late,” he said as she sat down.

“Yes, sorry.”

“Trouble sneaking out?” he asked, with a knowing look.

“Not much, really,” she answered, and ordered a Butterbeer when the waiter approached their table. “So,” she continued, once they were alone again, “Why did you want to meet me here?”

“What happened today, when you ran into me in the kitchen?” he asked, and when she didn’t answer, she continued. “You remember, don’t you?”

“Just a few things, they’re starting to come back.”

“Last night, when they took you to headquarters, you had done something to remember, hadn’t you?”

“Just a spell,” she admitted. Maybe if she told him part of the truth, he would tell her what he knew.

“Simple spells don’t leave you like that.”

“I probably messed up when casting it,” she said, with a shrug.

“So, what did you remember?”

“Just what I said, I remember giving you a note. What did it say?”

“You wanted me to meet you here,” he answered, after a few seconds.

“What for?”

“You wanted my help, wanted some Death Eaters we had captured freed.”

“What? Why would I want that?”

“You said your contact would gain his Master’s trust if he gave him the information.”

“And what did you…?” she started asking, but a figure walking past her distracted her. A woman was walking towards the stairs, and dropped a key on her way. “There was a key, right here,” she muttered, touching the table. “He left it for me.”

“What are you talking about? Where are you going?” he asked, when she suddenly stood up and started walking up the stairs.

“It was for one of the rooms up here, he was waiting for me,” she mumbled. “Here, it was this one,” she said after a few moments, stopping in front of one of the doors and touching the silver plate with a number on it. “He was here. I have to…” she said, and with a muttered spell, the door creaked open.

“What are you doing? You can’t go in there,” Kingsley said, close behind her, but she wasn’t paying him any attention.

“It was darker,” she said, stepping inside. “There was a candle, right there. And he was sitting on the bed. He wanted to know if you were going to help us.” Why could she suddenly remember all that, but not him? It was so frustrating.

“What else do you remember?”

“You wanted to know who I was working with, you said you wouldn’t help us unless I told you,” she continued, slowly pacing the room, trying hard to remember. Suddenly, she turned back to him, a shocked expression on her face. “You thought I was a Death Eater,” she said, her voice much louder. “You wanted to see if I had the mark.”

“Well, of course I did. You show up one day, start giving us inside information, what was I supposed to think?” he said, defensively.

“I can’t believe you,” she said angrily, barely listening to what he was saying. “How could you think I would betray the Order, betray Harry?”

“Just listen to me, will you?” he said, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her slightly. “I just had to be sure, I couldn’t risk…”

“You couldn’t risk what?” she interrupted, pushing him away. “All the information I had given had been truth, and useful. How could you even think I would help Voldemort?” she asked, and then pushed past him and out of the room.

“Hermione, wait,” he said, running after her, wrapping his hand around her arm to stop her.

“Let go of me,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, her other hand reaching for her wand.

“Can’t we just sit for a moment, discuss this calmly?”

“There is nothing to discuss,” she said, firmly. “Now let go of me, or I swear…”

“Put that wand down, Hermione,” he said, his calm tone making her even angrier. “I was just concerned, alright? I was worried about you, and wanted to make sure you hadn’t gotten yourself in too much trouble,” he said, taking her other hand, pulling her a bit closer and pushing her wand to the side.

“No,” she said, and shook her head slightly. “You thought I was one of them,” she repeated, and yanked her arms free. “You thought I was with them,” she repeated, and then turned away from him and ran down the stairs.

“Hermione, wait,” she heard him yell after her, but she didn’t stop, and as soon as she was far enough, she Apparated back to headquarters.

She couldn’t believe he had suspected her in that way. What had she done to make them all think there was something wrong, to make Kingsley suspect she was a traitor, and Ron and Harry to follow her around? What had happened o her, what had changed her that much in just a few week?

As silently as she could, she entered the house and made her way up the stairs, careful as to not wake Ginny up. It had been a long night, and she still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Worried as she was, it wasn’t long before she fell asleep though, her mind taking her back to the room at the Leaky Cauldron, only this time the memories were of the man pushing her against the door, of his lips on her skin, on her hands taking off his clothes, desperate to touch him. She had wanted him, she could feel it even in the dream, but something wasn’t right. Draco was supposed to be her contact, but she didn’t feel that way around him, the desire, the need to touch him. Was that just because of the memory loss, or was there something else? Well, there was only one way to find out, she would have to see him again.

*

“What took you so long?” the voice said, as soon as Draco entered the room.

“I was busy,” he simply answered.

“You certainly weren’t doing what I told you to do.”

“I’ve asked her, but she doesn’t know anything yet. I can’t push too much, or she will grow suspicious.”

“Can’t push too much? You couldn’t even tell me where she and her little friends hiding!” the voice said, angrily.

“That’s because I didn’t know, but I’ve already…”

“I don’t care, Draco. I want to know where they are keeping him, I want him out. If she can’t find out, then she is useless to us.”

“She will, it will just take some time.”

“A week; that is all she will get. If you can’t tell me where they are keeping him and the other prisoners by then, it’s over; you will go back to the dungeons, and she will be dead. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” he answered curtly.

“Get out of here now, I have other things to do.”