The second bite of the apple | Dramoine

What we were allowed to see {part 2}

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?"

"Yes." Draco's expression darkened at the mention of Hermione's name and she barely heard him mumble something that sounded like "bushy-haired know-it-all."

"A Muggle-born, is she not?" Lucius stared coldly his son, who nodded. "And she made top of the class over you . . . Really, Draco, to allow yourself to be beaten by a Mudblood. I'm very disappointed."

Draco scowled. "She's impossible! She's always sucking up to the professors and practically lives in the library!"

"Well, you will need to apply yourself better your second year, won't you then, Son?" Lucius said the words quietly, but Hermione could sense an unspoken threat behind them.

"Yes, Father," Draco said, casting his gaze downward.

The scene shifted again. This time, only Narcissa was present in what looked like a quaint country cottage. Hermione heard shouts and cheering from outside the house.

The door opened and Lucius strode in. "Where's Draco?"

"He's celebrating with his friends," Narcissa said, and Hermione realized the commotion outside was the celebration after the Quidditch World Cup, placing this memory just before her fourth year.

"Some of the others are planning a . . . demonstration." Lucius's gaze shifted toward the door, perhaps worried about being overheard. "I want Draco to join us. He can see what it's like."

"He's just a boy!" Narcissa folded her arms. "Let him enjoy his time with his friends."

"He won't be a boy much longer, Narcissa! He needs to learn what is expected of him. It's happening . . . soon." Lucius dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. "When the Dark Lord returns, he needs to know the Malfoy family has been loyal to him! If there is any doubt . . ."

"Let Draco be for tonight."

Lucius glared at her as he marched to the entrance of their cottage-tent. "Draco's time is coming, Narcissa! He will not disappoint me." He slammed the door.

Narcissa sighed and looked down at her hands. Hermione gazed at her, feeling sad, and the scene became slightly blurry, signifying a short passing of time.

The same door opened and Draco Malfoy rushed in, looking how Hermione remembered him from their fourth year.

"Where's Father?" he asked. "Goyle's parents said he was looking for me."

"Your father is taking care of something," Narcissa said, packing clothing into a leather bag.

"I know! Goyle's going with his father." Draco's eyes shone, and Hermione felt sickened by the excitement she saw there. "I want to go too."

"No!" Narcissa stuffed the remaining item in the bag. "You're staying with me. We'll meet your father after."

"I'm not a child, Mother! And Father wants me to come. How else am I supposed to show him that I'm ready?"

"You're not going and that's final! Now help me, we don't have much time." She handed Draco the bag, which he took begrudgingly and hoisted onto his shoulder.

A loud explosion followed by screams caused both mother and son to jump.

"Come on," Narcissa said.

The image shifted just slightly again, and Hermione found herself in a dark forest behind Draco and his mother walking with their wands alight. It was eerily familiar. She remembered racing through the same forest with Ron and Harry to escape the pandemonium at the World Cup.

"Your father asked us to meet him at the Portkey at the top of the hill," Narcissa said. "We'll need to leave quickly if the Ministry becomes involved."

"I should be with him," Draco grumbled.

Narcissa and Draco continued walking in silence. Suddenly, a yell close by made them both stop.

Not far off, Hermione heard her own young voice exclaim shrilly, "What happened?"

Draco's stare darted toward the trees. He stood there for a few moments, then pulled the bag off his shoulders and handed it to his mother. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

"Draco—" Narcissa protested, but he'd already disappeared through the thick trees. Narcissa and current-day Hermione hurried after him, then stopped when they saw him through a clearing, leaning against a tree, talking to fourth-year Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Ron shouted something rude to Draco, who replied calmly, "Language, Weasley. Hadn't you better be hurrying along." He gestured his pointy chin toward young Hermione. "You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione heard her younger self demand.

Draco sighed as if it were obvious. "Granger, they're after Muggles. Do you want to be showing your knickers off in midair? Because if you do, hang around . . . they're moving this way and it would give us all a laugh."

Hermione saw herself narrow her eyes at Malfoy, but before young Hermione had a chance to retort, Harry came to her defense. "Hermione's a witch!"

"Have it your way, Potter." Draco shot Harry a wicked smile. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" Ron yelled, lunging toward Malfoy.

"Never mind, Ron." Hermione grabbed his arm and sent Draco a scathing look.

A loud bang sounded close by, startling the three friends. Draco, somehow, seemed unfazed and laughed quietly. "Scare easily, don't they? I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to—trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where are your parents?" Harry shot back. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

"Well . . . if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?" Draco grinned dangerously.

"Oh, come on," young Hermione said, shooting one more repulsed look at Draco. "Let's go and find the others."

"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger!" Draco crossed his arms as he watched the trio walk away. When they were no longer in sight, he dropped his arms to his side, then turned back in the direction he'd come.

After taking a few steps, he stopped abruptly upon seeing Narcissa so close. "Mother, I—"

"So, that's the Granger girl," she said.

Draco clenched his jaw, pushing a leafy branch out of his path as he continued walking. "Idiots, all of them! Her stupid friends should've gotten her away sooner."

"Why is that?"

"Father hates her—he'd target her if he saw her."

"And you?"

"I don't—" His tense expression twisted into a scowl. "I don't really care!"

Narcissa opened her mouth to say something more but seemed to change her mind upon seeing her son's angry expression.

The scene shifted again, but Hermione almost didn't notice with the way her head was spinning in confusion. She remembered her, Harry's, and Ron's encounter with Malfoy that night quite distinctly, but this made her see it in a completely new light.

Had Malfoy been trying to warn her?