The second bite of the apple | Dramoine

Looking through the glass {part 1}

"We're going to focus on your memories today," Hermione told Draco when he entered the meeting room the next day.

"How fun," he said, crossing his arms as he walked over to where she was setting up a Pensieve. He'd been dreading sharing his memories with her ever since she told him he'd have to.

"All right, it's ready." She turned toward him.

"What exactly do you need?" he asked, eyeing the Pensieve.

"Anything concerning Voldemort."

He released an impatient breath. "Granger, I was raised in a household where Voldemort was idolized. My father told me bedtime stories about him, for Merlin's sake. You're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"Right." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Let's start with your personal experience with Voldemort then. When you took the Dark Mark, and when he commanded you to kill Dumbledore."

Draco nodded, his stomach turning, for once not because of the terrible Azkaban food.

Hermione raised her wand to his head and muttered an incantation as Draco closed his eyes, conjuring the memories. He felt the strange sensation of them leaving his mind in a stream of light, then opened his eyes to see Hermione bottle the memories in a flask.

"Good," she said. "Now I need you to remember the night Dumbledore died. Everything that happened on the Astronomy Tower. I talked to Harry and he's considering testifying for you. I'll need to make sure your memories match."

Draco clenched his fists, then closed his eyes again as Hermione retrieved his memory.

"Okay, there's one more thing," she said slowly.

Draco narrowed his eyes. The two memories he'd shared were already more than he wanted to show her. What else was she asking to see?

She took a deep breath. "The night Harry, Ron, and I were at the Manor."

"No." He crossed his arms firmly to his chest. It was bad enough reliving that evening in his nightmares. He certainly wasn't about to watch it again with her next to him.

"Malfoy, if Harry agrees to testify, it could strengthen your case. We'll probably only need the part where you didn't identify him. Trust me, it could make a difference."

His mind spun, weighing the benefits the memory could have on his case and the horror of seeing her torture again, not to mention the uncomfortable conversation that would certainly follow if she found out everything that happened that night.

"Please, Draco."

Before he could stop himself, his gaze darted to hers. Her brown eyes pleaded with him and he felt his resolve weakening. He knew she wanted to see the memory entirely for his sake, and her compassion and bravery moved him.

"Fine." He sighed, allowing Hermione to retrieve the final memory.

With the three flasks in her hand, she carefully poured each one into the Pensieve and then stared into the silvery swirling mist.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"After you," Draco said grimly, gesturing with his hand.

She nodded and stepped forward.

"Granger, wait." Draco grabbed her elbow and she looked up at him.

He swallowed. "Some of what you're about to see . . . well, it's not good." He released her and swept a hand through his hair, feeling an unreasonable urge to try to make her understand that he wasn't that person anymore. "It's just—I'm not . . ."

"I know," she said softly, laying a light hand on his arm, her simple words and action easing his nerves. He nodded stiffly, turning back to the Pensieve.

Together, they stepped forward and allowed themselves to fall gently into his memories.

Hermione was once again at Malfoy Manor, and her heart leapt in her throat upon seeing Voldemort standing in front of her. Facing him was a solemn Draco Malfoy, with Narcissa by his side. Bellatrix LeStrange stood a few feet behind Voldemort, wearing an evil smile.

"Draco Malfoy," Voldemort hissed, "the time has come for you to make up for your father's failings."

"Yes, my Lord," Draco said, his voice quiet and emotionless as he bowed his head.

"I must say"—Voldemort's lips curled—"your father has been a severe disappointment to me. His actions at the Ministry cost me the prophecy I so desperately need. He's lucky his inaptitude landed him in Azkaban . . . before I was able to reach him."

Voldemort walked towards Draco and surveyed him with his snake-like eyes. Draco shifted his feet and straightened his shoulders under Voldemort's hostile gaze as he continued. "I do hope you are prepared to serve me better. If not . . . it would be most unfortunate for you . . . and your mother." Voldemort stopped and turned his eyes toward Narcissa.

Draco gulped, but when Voldemort turned his stare back to him, he had composed himself.

"I am, my Lord," Draco said, sounding more confident now. "It will be an honor to serve you."

"We shall see." Voldemort raised his wand as Draco pulled up the sleeve of his left arm with a quick hand. Bellatrix leaned forward hungrily.

Pressing his wand to Draco's forearm, Voldemort growled a dark incantation. Black smoke shot from the end of his wand, curling up and into Draco's skin. Draco's face twisted in pain, but he made no sound as he fell to his knees. Bellatrix cackled in glee and clapped her hands like a child at a birthday party.

When Voldemort finished, he pulled his wand back and stared down at his newest recruit. "Welcome to the Death Eaters, Draco Malfoy," he said, then swept from the room.

Once Voldemort was gone, Narcissa rushed to her son and pulled him up. "Draco . . ." she gasped, choking back tears.

Draco yanked away from his mother, and Hermione could see that his eyes were red, but no tears were visible. "It's done," he said.

"Yes, it is." Bellatrix strode over, stepping between her sister and nephew, laughing wickedly. "But the fun is just beginning."

Hermione made several notes as the memory faded, knowing it was an important one. The Prosecution had already subpoenaed it for evidence, and she knew McLaggen would use Draco's detached demeanor and apparent willingness to serve Voldemort to strengthen his case. Like Draco had told her, he seemed to have taken the Dark Mark of his own accord. However, Hermione had a feeling that, although he had been willing at the time, he had not necessarily been happy about it.

The next memory came into focus, taking place in the same ornate dining room Hermione had seen in Narcissa's memory, but this time, the large dining table was filled to the brim with Death Eaters. Hermione recognized a few of them as her previous clients. Draco sat next to Bellatrix, his young age making him look incredibly out of place.

Voldemort sat at the head of the table in a large ornate chair, absentmindedly stroking his snake's, Nagini's, head.

Hermione carefully observed the younger Draco in this memory. He stared straight ahead, his eyes unfocused, looking completely lost. She could see the faint traces of the dark shadows already forming under his eyes. The ones she came to recognize so well at Hogwarts that year.