Never A Memory

~An Unlikely Pensieve~







The following day...

***



Hermione paced back and forth across her office of Muggle Affairs, shooting the Malfoy Case's head Aurors dirty looks every time she passed them. Ron and Harry, for their part, and being used to Hermione's temper, remained quiet.



Hermione abruptly stopped her pacing and whirled on them, her brown eyes positively spitting fire. "I CANNOT believe you two did not confiscate Malfoy's owl!"



Ron spread his hands helplessly. "'Mione, really, it's not like things like this haven't happened bef--"



"Ronald, don't you start!" Hermione interrupted him with a stamp of her foot. "YOU two were the ones that insisted that I make sure everything stayed completely 'hush hush', YOU two were the ones that forgot about an owl's tendency to follow their wizard anywhere he or she happened to go, and now YOU two are the ones who will clean this mess up with the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee!"



"'Mione, we really can't afford for anything like this get out," Ron said as he moved forward and rested both hands on his fiancée’s shoulders. "If they find out that that owl is Malfoy's, then everyone will know where we stashed him. You've got to help us cover this up--"



"No, Ron," Hermione said, shaking her head vigorously. "This is your mess and I have too much to do--"



"But you know those prats in the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee better than I do, 'Mione," Ron persisted. "And you're the genius here, remember?"



Hermione glared at him. "What, precisely, am I going to say to cover this up? And why should I? You just stood there and told me Nickle reported overhearing some Muggle say that Malfoy tried to choke the life out of him without touching him! I still maintain that it's not safe for Malfoy to be locked up with Muggles, Ron! That owl is helping him remember and now he's harming Muggles!"



Ron shook his head and offered her a light smile. "They're crazies, 'Mione. Nobody believed him and who says Malfoy knows how to do wandless magic anyway?"



Hermione jerked away from Ron and looked at him like if he had two brain cells to rub together, he'd be dangerous. "Ron! Malfoy is a wizard. Making him disappear with a bunch a Muggles isn't going to change that! His magic is going to come out and if he doesn't have his wand to control it, imagine what he could do! Really, Ron, I wonder if you've thought this out at all."



"Well, you agreed to help us, 'Mione," Ron pointed out. "You must've thought that it would have done some good."



"Against my better judgment, Ron, if you remember correctly," Hermione snapped. "I cannot believe you forgot about his owl. I thought you two were professional Aurors!"



Harry, who had been hiding his smile behind his hand, finally stepped forward. "What do you think we should do, Hermione?"



Hermione, startled, whipped her head towards Harry, having forgotten that he was there. "I think you should get him out of there immediately. That Muggle obviously did something to him to set him off. You need to get Malfoy out of confinement, Harry. How would you feel?"



Harry breathed in deeply and shook his head. "We designed this so he wouldn't get out for a while, 'Mione, remember? If he started to remember, they would think he was mad and keep him longer."



"Nickle said the Ward's therapist had high hopes for his case," Hermione countered. "This doctor doesn't believe Malfoy's crazy at all."



"Still..." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "It's too soon."



Ron, recognizing the ambiguous look on his partner's face, turned to Harry. "Mate, what are you playing at?"



Harry glanced at Ron. "I need more time."



"For what?" Ron asked. "As long as we keep him hidden, we'll have plenty of time to fish out those Death Eaters who want to kill the little git."



"And he won't be hidden for much longer if you keep him in there, Harry," Hermione said. "He's already causing too much of a fuss."



Harry was silent for a long moment. "I have a lead," Harry said finally.



Ron drew his brows together in a frown. "And you didn't tell me?"



Harry gave Ron a pointed look. "I did. The VCE Elixir."



Ron rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "You're not serious, Harry! You're telling me you want to hop on a broom to China to find out how Malfoy did it?"



"No," Harry said with a shake of his head.



Ron let out a sigh of relief.



"I'm going to take Witherwings."



"What?!"



"Just give me a week, Ron. I'll be back before you know it."



"No, Harry!" Ron nearly shouted. "We've got too much to do. You can't just go to...to CHINA!"



"I'm going, Ron," Harry said with a stubborn set of his chin.



Hermione groaned and buried her head in her hands.



"How is this going to help Malfoy?" Ron exclaimed. "Really? This is not influential, in any way, to this case. What do you expect to find there?"



"Answers."



"To what?!"



Harry shrugged. "I have to know, Ron."



Ron crossed his arms and leant against a wall with a dark look on his face. "Why can't you just let it be, Harry? WHY do you have to know?"



"I don't know."



"That's bollocks, Harry, and you know it."



"No, it's not."



Ron pushed himself off the wall and glared at his best mate. "Then why?"



"Because," Harry murmured, not quite looking at Ron or Hermione. "Because I have to know why he didn't just kill me. I have to know why he spent almost five years making a potion so I didn't have to die."



Ron ran a hand through his red locks. "He couldn't kill Dumbledore, remember Harry? Maybe it's just not in him to kill. It happens to the best of us."



"He killed Voldemorte."



Silence fell heavily around the three of them after Harry said this. Ron glanced at Hermione, who tilted her head to one side and shrugged.



"Fine," Ron murmured. "You have one week."



***



Harry landed his broom outside of Madam Leilane's Stable for Magical Creatures and paid a stable boy to care for his broom. He went inside the office briefly to speak to Madam Leilane, notifying her that he would be taking Witherwings out and would be back in a week's time. Inside the stable, Harry respectfully bowed to the majestic Hippogriff, keeping eye contact until Witherwings nodded to him, and then approached him.



Harry quickly readied the large creature for the long journey they would take, saddling the Hippogriff and attaching a rolled blanket, some powdered packets Fred and George, Ron's inventive brothers, had made that would turn into three course meals once adding water and uttering a quick, uncomplicated spell, and then called for his broom. Once Harry had fastened that as well, he smiled fondly at Witherwings, who tilted his head at Harry.



"I need you to take me to the south west corner of the Tien Shen Pass, Witherwings," Harry murmured. "It's in China and we're looking specifically for an area that grows Leerdog Root."



Witherwings nodded and bowed so that Harry could mount him. Once astride, Harry made a noise of encouragement and Witherwings took off at a gallop, leaping into the air and heading east.



***



It only took a handful of hours to reach the Tien Shen Pass, where, with an exultant cry, Witherwings swooped down between the rows and rows of imperial mountains and Harry, feeding off of the Hippogriff's excitement, let loose a triumphant shout of his own. Locating the Leerdog Field, however, consumed the rest of the day.



And so, sore, hungry, and minutely agitated, Harry and Witherwings finally spotted the Leerdog Field as the sun was setting in the western sky. The shadows were growing long and ominous when they touched the ground and Harry fought with himself on whether he should continue his search or postpone it for the next day.



However, once Harry jumped off of Witherwing's back, the Hippogriff caught a scent of something that beguiled him northwards. Groaning his complaints, Harry followed the massive creature as it bee-lined through the Leerdog Field towards a stretch of trees. Once inside the forest, Witherwings continued to walk at an unhurried pace until the Hippogriff located a small lake. Harry watched uninterestedly as Witherwings paused to drink his fill and, becoming bored with that, began to wander around the lake.



Harry paused when Witherwings splashed into the lake after a large fish and allowed himself a small laugh as the Hippogriff pranced through the shallow water. Suddenly, Harry squinted, spotting something across the lake. He silently summoned his broom from Witherwings' back and flew towards the object.



Upon reaching it, Harry saw that it was a pile of moth-eaten clothing and further on was a clothesline connected to two trees with a cloak and a pair of pants hanging from it. Everything looked old and tattered, as if it hadn't been touched in years. Searching the ground for human foot steps or anything else to track, Harry began noticing other things on shaded dirt. A pair of shoes, some old runes, an unopened packet of Exploding Snap, and even an abandoned book.



When Harry looked back up, he could make out the outline of a small hut behind some trees. Approaching the hut, Harry discovered that, not only did it have a makeshift door, but a chimney and few windows as well. Harry called out before opening the door and, receiving no reply, entered the hut. Inside, the small hut gave way to a large, magicked, and surprisingly well-furnished room; complete with a kitchenette, a sort of bed room, and an open space where a large cauldron sat surrounded by books on potion-making, genealogies, and ancient magic incantations.



Harry sat on his heels by the cauldron and checked the ash underneath, rubbing it between his fingers. Harry decided this cauldron had not been lit a long, long time and stood up. Harry walked around the room, running his fingers carefully on books and counters, and using his wand to check out anything that looked questionable. While the magic that furnished this room and expanded it to be larger than the hut that contained it kept the room safe from insects and animals, there was a thick layer of dust coating everything. Harry walked over to the where a small cot was laid out, no doubt the inhabitant’s bedroom, and sat down.



Harry's beryl eyes searched around the cot and inspected the little chest of drawers beside it. Harry opened the topmost drawer and retrieved a small bag made of dark silk. He opened the bag and pulled out a small object, nodding to himself as he did so. It was McGonagall's Time-Turner.



Harry drew in a breath and let it out slowly. He rose to his feet and walked back over to the cauldron. He bent down and began shifting through the dusty stacks of books. Harry abruptly froze, causing a teetering stack of vellum parchment to topple sideways and scatter across the floor. Harry squinted, his eyes taking in and recognizing the runes etched into the stone receptacle hidden in the far right corner of the room behind a pile of books. Harry moved forward slowly and looked down into the basin.



There, inside the stone basin's middle, were dozens of glowing threads, swimming and floating around one another; not quite gas and not quite water-like substances. Harry continued to stare, stunned despite himself, as he sat cross-legged in front of the object, remembering one identical in Dumbledore's office and having used it with the late Headmaster on more than one occasion.



Draco Malfoy had had himself a Pensieve.