Defending the Dark (Dramione)

Chapter 6: What Our Memories Allow

Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help but smile. The child in front of her was adorable. She felt a painful tug at her heart as she remembered that this same sweet boy was destined to grow up to be the horrible, unfeeling man she'd seen today.

Even by the time she'd met Draco Malfoy, at the young age of eleven, the carefree innocence she saw now had already been squelched. When had it happened and how?

As if in answer to her question, a dark figure strode across the lawn.

"Father!" The little boy squealed and ran to him. Although Hermione knew she was in a memory and completely invisible to the new man entering the scene, she involuntarily shivered.

Lucius Malfoy walked toward her, looking just as cold and foreboding as she remembered him. He looked younger too but, besides that, did not seem different.

"Can we go flying, Father? On your broom?" The small version of Draco Malfoy asked, looking eagerly up at his father.

"Not now, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said evenly. "Perhaps after dinner, if you behave."

The child didn't seem perturbed by his response. Hermione wondered if he was used to it. "Okay, Father," he said, "I love flying! Can you take me on an air-row-plane sometime?" Round gray eyes looked up as the small child said the word "airplane" carefully.

"Where did you hear about that?" Lucius Malfoy demanded sharply and Narcissa's shoulders tensed.

"Thomas told me about them," young Draco replied matter-of-factly. "He said they fly in the sky like brooms, but they're so big they can carry a hundred people at a time!"

"Airplanes are for Muggles, not wizards!" Lucius grabbed his son's arm. "How many times have I told you that we don't concern ourselves with them?"

"Sorry, Father," the little boy mumbled, looking down at the ground.

"You will soon realize that the things in our world are far superior to anything you could find in the Muggle world, Draco."

"Yes, Father."

Seemingly satisfied, Lucius Malfoy released his son and walked toward Narcissa. "I don't want Draco socializing with Thomas Briggs again. Clearly, the Briggs family isn't fit for us to associate with."

"Very well," Narcissa said, almost as robotically as her son had.

"I just heard some important news, Cissa." Lucius's expression grew animated as he changed the subject. "Apparently, there has been word that the Dark Lord survived that fateful evening at the Potters'. That means . . ."

The world around Hermione shifted and the rest of Lucius Malfoy's words faded away.

Suddenly, Hermione found herself standing by a large mahogany dining table almost as long as the room itself. Three large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

At the head of the table was Lucius Malfoy, and on his left side sat Narcissa, this time dressed in her familiar black. On Lucius's right was Draco Malfoy. He was still young, but older than he'd been in the last memory. In fact, he looked very much like he had when Hermione first met him.

"Draco, darling, it's so wonderful to have you back home for the summer," Narcissa said with a smile as she surveyed a large piece of parchment. "And your grades are wonderful! We're very proud of you."

Draco smirked self-appreciatively, looking exactly like the arrogant boy Hermione remembered. Narcissa passed the parchment to Lucius, who assessed it. His nostrils flared. "Who is this Hermione Granger? Friends with Harry Potter, isn't she?"