A memoir forces me to stop and remember carefully. It is an exercise in truth. In a memoir, I look at myself, my life, and the people I love the most in the mirror of the blank screen. In a memoir, feelings are more important than facts, and to write honestly, I have to confront my demons. - Isabel Allende
Draco's POV
The halls were silent. Even the usually noisy portraits were muted. After such a hectic game, the fatigue was finally catching up to me. I longed to be in bed, but I knew sleep wouldn't come easily. Therefore, I decided to walk around the place, evading Filch as much as possible. If one thing I truly felt sorry about after the war , it was that even after all those disasters occurring all over Hogwarts, Filch had still managed to come out alive without a scratch. If anything, it only made me a little bit wary of the old goon. Who knew what he did all this time lurking away in dark recesses of the castle.
As I made my way down the fifth floor hallway, a muffled sobbing sound made me pause. It felt like the owner of the voice was trying their best to mute down their anguish, but clearly it wasn't working. Intrigued I followed the sound which led me through a hidden passage through a tapestry. To my surprise, I ended up in the potions lab.
The night was dark and silent, the chilled November air wafting through the open windows. The lab was dead silent, which made the muffled sound of crying more eerie than it should've been, had it been any other time of the day. With slow, steady steps I crept farther towards the back of the room, walking in between the narrow isles - my wand held tightly in front of me.
"I'm so sorry.. I'm sorry..." a gruff voice whispered. From the distance, it sounded like a male's voice. Now really intrigued I slowly made my way closer. Quite suddenly, silvery puffs of smoke erupted from a cauldron nearby and I almost cast an Unforgivable.
Holding my war instincts back, I calmed down enough to make out the ginger head of Weasley standing over the cauldron. The little light coming through the windows shone over his face and I could make out shiny tear drops glistening on his cheeks. The sight was disturbing, to say the least.
"I should've had saved you. I'm sorry." he repeated, again and again. The trance-like state of the weasel was starting to creep me out. As I watched on silently, Weasel produced a large vial from his robe pocket and started pouring the draught in it, still murmuring maniacally. Having seen enough to know what was going on, I retraced my steps back the way I'd come and not knowing any place safer, mindlessly made my way to my haven.
The torches were lit and the fireplace was roaring with toasty warmth. Walking in I found Granger passed out on the couch while the strange looking black box kept flashing with moving images and the numerous headless sounds produced a soothing background noise. Settling down on the opposite couch, I closed my eyes.
What I'd just seen wasn't something out of the blue. The war had had horrific effects on everyone. And I could at least give the trio this much credit as to be the most disturbed out of all what with being the center of most of everything that went down during the war.
Everyone had tried to find escape. Some way of salvation, inner peace. For me it was thinking. It proved dangerous for my sanity, no doubt but analyzing, scrutinizing everything to bits gave my conscience a breakthrough. It gave me the ability to judge and justify. It made me not feel imprisoned in my own body. It gave me a reason to move on. It gave me strength to fight my own head which had been so polluted over the years by my father who was now as good as dead. And most of all, it made me feel human.
Everyone it seemed had found one way or another to deal with their tragedies. Weasel had been drugging himself all this time, and I had a slight hunch that he hadn't told anyone about his conditions.
I was brought out of my reverie by the black box going off. I looked around to find Granger finally awake and holding another little rectangle shaped box pointing towards the black box. She then put it down and reached for the many sheets of paper cluttering the coffee table. Picking one up myself, I examined her neat scrawl.
"Things to Do"
1- Collect Memories from :
Harry Potter
Ron Weasley
Neville Longbottom
Professor Mcgongall
Filch (I had to read it twice to make sure I wasn't being mistaken - Had to admit, Granger had some balls. I would really want to be there when she does this,)
Narcissa Malfoy
Draco Malfoy
Millicent Bulstrode
Hagrid
(She'd also mentioned some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.)
2- Interview selective candidates.
3- Contact Mr. John Creevey and Mr. Flores
4- Compile the data
5- Publishing and Editing
Finally finished scanning the page, I looked up to Granger staring at me uneasily.
"Yes?" I asked, my brow raised. She turned a little pink in the face as was becoming habbit every time I addressed her.
" Well... Its just that tomorrow's Sunday.." she trailed off, another annoying habbit of hers.
" So?" I asked impatiently.
" I was thinking of starting the actual work tomorrow. I have everything planned here. By the looks of things, I think for now we should keep this task discreet. I don't want too much speculation going on, that will create rumors and to be honest, I am not ready to deal with so much hassle. If we go through the list you have one by one, it will make things easier." she intoned, shuffling a stack of notes and putting them together on one side methodically.
"And what makes you think these people will be willing to give us information as we please?" I asked her. She stared at me for a minute, and I could tell she was hesitating to answer.
" For one, this doesn't only concern us. The whole future of the wizarding world practically depends on this. Knowing the history, the events that led to here and now- are probably the most crucial and pivotal part of one's knowledge. How are we supposed to prevent from another Dark Lord trying to murder innocent lives? How are we to know that there won't be any other group of maniacs on the loose trying to "take over" the wizarding society? This will be hard, heck for all I know this might just be the hardest thing ever but it has to be done. And I won't give up unless I've had what I need to accomplish this task." by the end of her rant she was breathing heavily. Her eyes crackled with fire which I hadn't seen in quite a long time and it kind of - sort of- maybe made me a little bit nostalgic.
A sudden flashback of her hitting me square in the face back in third year crossed my mind and I almost smiled.
"Well then, by all means go ahead. But my concern is, what do I have to do in this?" I was hoping she'd say "Just tag along," but who was I kidding? It was Granger so obviously she had some gruesome task set for me.
" You're good at Leglimency and Occlumency." She stated matter of factly.
"And your point is..?" she was starting to confuse me with her half-expressed answers. She gave me one of her 'isn't-it-obvious' looks which really did nothing to bring me ideas about where she was heading with this whole business.
"You'll be the one Interviewing." Now that was ridiculous. I was about to tell her just that but she continued hurriedly, without giving me a chance to shun the outrageous notion. "Look, I can't believe I'm saying this but I don't think I'll be able to handle interrogating like that. And I know Professor Mcgonagall also wants you to be the one to do it." she then went ahead and added a meek "Please".
As much as the idea vexed me, I couldn't possibly find a valid excuse to refuse. It wasn't like I'd have to duel it out of them but it still made me uneasy to be the one to make people recall horrible times. If my role during the war wasn't enough to terrorize people- this would surely do the trick.
"We'll see." I replied after a long moment. She sighed in relief and clapped her hands in excitement- the first sign of something close to happiness I had seen her exhibit. The girl was one weird creature.
"Okay, so first up is Harry. I have already sent him a letter to meet us at the Hog's Head Inn tomorrow. Professor Mcgongall sent me written permission notes for all three of us and I sent him one along with the time and other details. For now, I've also asked him to keep it from everyone. " she told me, handing me my permission note. It was a small piece of parchment stating that I was allowed to step out of the perimeters of Hogwarts by the permission of the Head Mistress and it also stated the approximate time which we were to be expected back.
"What time do we go?" I asked, resigning myself at last. Now that I really was pushed into this mess, why not just go with the flow?
"7:30 AM" she told me, standing up and clearing away the table with the flick of her wand. Surprised, I almost yelled out, "What the fuck Granger? Its a bloody Sunday and you want me to be up at seven-freaking-thirty! Tell me this was a joke."
She folded her arms under her chest and subjected her infamous glare at me, "We have alot to do and little time for it. I would suggest you grow up and stop whinging like moaning myrtle." she chastised. Glaring back at her, I grumbled "Bitch" and stood up too, shrugging my shoulders to try and get rid of the stiffness. It was past 2AM and I was now feeling dead on my feet.
Still annoyed and grumbling I walked out of the room of requirement and went straight to my dorm and for the first time in ages, fell asleep without the nightmare. Guess tiring myself to sleep was a new alternate I'd discovered! As I closed my eyes, finally tucked under the duvet in my bed I thought about the upcoming task at hand. I sure did have a long day ahead.
A/N : Short Chapter I know. But there's more to come. Love reading and replying to your comments!! Thanks for the support. Well, you know the drill, Vote, Comment & Share!!