As The Falcon Hath Her Bells: Taking Flight

Chapter Twenty-One

It was a perfectly bloody miserable late January day, to Draco Malfoy's mind.It wasn't all that cold, and the sun was shining.But he was utterly miserable.Sitting in the stands flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, laughing weakly at their threatening mutters towards the Gryffindors as his old self would have.

How would he stand this act for another four months, when everything within him screamed at the very thought?It had been such a rude awakening a month ago--he still utterly loathed himself for his weakness in self-preservation.The girl haunted his nightmares regularly, so much that Snape had him taking Dreamless Sleep Potion on the sly after Zabini informed him that Draco was waking everybody up with his shrieks of terror awakening from the dreams.

Pansy had tried to drag him up to the Astronomy Tower a week ago for a snogging session like they had done before, but he had barely prevented himself from dashing away and being sick at the thought of being in such intimate contact with any girl.Lovely, he thought tiredly, if I can't bear the sight of anyone female, and since I'm not attracted to other males, I've got a long, lonely life ahead.No less than I deserve, though.

He turned his eyes back towards the Quidditch pitch, feeling a sharp pang of loss there as well.He hadn't been a wonderful Seeker; that he knew.In fact, he had avoided trying most times, because he hadn't earned the position or appreciated it.He knew his father had coerced Snape into appointing him as Seeker, and that Snape hadn't been happy about it.But he missed the simple, carefree things like Quidditch now, when nothing was clear.The Slytherin team had easily forgotten him already, cheering on Meridia Aquila to beat Gryffindor as they had last year.

To distract himself, he calculated outcomes this year, almost wanting to laugh at how much a stupid House Cup meant to these--these children, when waiting for them right outside Hogwarts' gates were those who wouldn't give a damn whether they had been school champions or in last place.All that mattered to Voldemort was if you were sick and twisted enough to follow him.

Still, thinking of the house points was better than thinking of the girl's screams.Flatly he realized that they could lose this match and still win the Quidditch Cup if Hufflepuff beat Gryffindor and they beat Hufflepuff.Gryffindor and Slytherin had both already beaten Ravenclaw.Wonderful.

He was aware of a commotion on the field as one of Slytherin's Beaters, William Monk, had knocked into a Gryffindor Chaser, Hester Latterly.He remembered he had spurned Monk, the boy being the Muggle-born son of a Northumberland fisherman.Unusual to have Muggle-borns in Slytherin, but Monk had proven to be quite an ambitious and cunning young fellow.Sorting Hat was right to put him with us.Hadn't been enough to stop him sneering at the boy behind his back before, of course, as a Mudblood.Monk and Latterly were both third-years now, and Draco sighed again at the position he was put in.He couldn't make the amends he desperately wanted to now, realizing what an utter ass he had been.His disdain was so trademark now that to change would automatically set off alarm bells to his father and result in his being confronted by the senior Malfoy and forced to choose: life with Voldemort or death.He didn't know even now if he'd be strong enough to choose to die if faced with that, he realized in self-disgust.

He muttered some vague assent to Pansy's sneer about Latterly, then was aware of a massive roar coming from the scarlet-clad ranks in the Gryffindor stands.Harry Potter was holding up his fist in triumph, looking pointedly towards the scouts there from the Cardiff Dragons.Draco grimaced and shook his head.I could have maybe caught it if it was me out there…damn Potter.All smug and happy: spoiled always here at Hogwarts.Look at those scouts.Practically drooling.And here I am afraid for my life.Doesn't the stupid prat realize there's a war going on out there…that Voldemort means to kill him?Or is all he can see that damned Snitch?

It didn't matter how short-sighted Harry Potter was.He was the school's darling, while he--he was living a lie.Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy stayed with him in order to be close to the son of a high-ranking Death Eater as a status symbol; not out of any genuine fondness.They used him as much as he had used them.

Something within him welled in a sick, helpless rage.He only knew he had to get away from the stupid celebration of something so insignificant as Potter catching the Snitch.Perhaps a year ago he could have been outraged along with the rest at the loss, but now it was a mere grain of sand next to the quicksand pit threatening to swallow him.

He stumbled out of the stands, heading back to the castle.He didn't fit any longer with all this.He had tasted the darkness, been part of it.Four more months of trying to act innocence he no longer possessed would drive him mad.Tying to deny what he had done to that girl when he really just felt like standing up in the Great Hall and shouting it for all to hear, to be denounced and punished as he so richly deserved…he couldn't stand it.Everything he was: all a lie.Well, perhaps he could make a damn statement about refusing to live the lie any longer.

* * * * *

Minerva was grinning smugly at him as they exited the stands as the students were almost all safely at the castle, bringing up the rear."Looks like the Quidditch Cup is Gryffindor's this year."

He gave her an irritated look."If Hufflepuff beats you," he reminded smoothly, "and we beat Hufflepuff, it'll be ours."The final score had been 180-90.He at least had the quiet pride that their Chasers had beaten Gryffindor's.He knew Potter had caught the Snitch quickly as he could rather than risk the Snitch's points being beaten out by the Slytherin Chasers, and smiled in satisfaction at that.

"Professor Snape, sir?"He was aware of Hermione Granger walking by his side, giving him a bit of a smile."I think I may have finally figured the Solventus out.Could we work on it if you're not busy?I think I could have it ready in a week or two if I'm right!" she said in excitement.

"Excellent!" he said, genuinely pleased.She had made excellent progress as well in her spying ability, which also relieved him.She was much more than he had thought; that was for certain.

"Not all Gryffindors are dunderheads, hmm?" Minerva said teasingly, giving him a smile.

"Just most," he said dryly, unable to resist.Minerva gave a rather mock noise of annoyance and walked ahead, leaving the two of them to chat.

The only sound for a moment was the quiet crunch of snow beneath their shoes.She finally spoke."Sir, I just wanted to say--"

Just then, Icarus came diving towards them, looking as terrified as an owl could.You have to stop him! he hooted frantically.

"Draco?"He was automatically on alert."What's he doing?"

He's in the Astronomy Tower, Icarus said.Didn't even look at the letter from home I had just delivered.He came back from the match and headed there…Exhausted, he finally dropped into Hermione's arms, spent from the effort of flying from Malfoy Manor andthen flying at breakneck speed to find him.

He didn't even pause for thought, cursing the wards that prevented Apparating into the school.He raced for the broom shed where Madame Hooch stored the student's brooms, hastily throwing open the door and grabbing the first broom coming to hand.

He mounted the broom and kicked off from the ground, turning towards Hogwarts, barely aware of Hermione running towards the school as well in the twilight gloom.Old memories came back to him of high-speed broomstick rides, but there was more at stake now than a mere Quidditch game.

He approached the Astronomy Tower, relieved he seemed to have gotten a broom in decent shape and with fair speed.He saw Draco crouching on the windowsill, eyeing the ground below.Before he could cry out for the boy not to do it, he leaped.Frantically grabbing his wand from up his sleeve, he bellowed a Levitation Charm, holding Draco about ten feet from the ground.

Carefully landing in the snow, he gently lowered Draco."You damn fool!" he immediately shouted."What in the name of God were you thinking?"

"I can't stand it, sir," Draco choked out, not even looking up at him."I can't act like I was before.I can't pretend that girl didn't exist, or that I had no part in anything.I can't even stand to look at myself in the mirror any longer!"

"Then," Snape replied almost harshly, "you do something to be able to look at yourself in the mirror.And quite frankly, you haven't earned the right to the coward's way out."

Draco flinched at that."I'm Slytherin, sir.Slytherin and weak," he murmured defeatedly.

"You are Slytherin, and damn you, be proud of it," Snape said crisply."We are not weak.You sound like a Hufflepuff weeping and whining over what you can't change.Now, you can't take back what you did to that girl," his voice softening a bit, "but you can try to make amends in other ways.I've been there, you forget.I considered ending it all myself, but decided I didn't deserve an easier end than those I harmed."

He knew that the last thing Draco wanted was sympathy, feeling he was the one least deserving of it.So he took a hard, almost biting, tone with him, making him feel like it was his punishment to live with what he had done.It's my penance, and too it shall be his."Promise me," he demanded."You won't take that way out.You owe to make it up if it truly you regret it that much."

Draco gave a heaving sigh."I promise, sir," he said quietly, putting his hands in his pockets and trudging towards the castle, shoulders slumped.The one thing Snape knew he could trust about a Malfoy was their sworn word.The boy wouldn't kill himself, but Snape knew he'd not drop the idea.He began thinking himself of how to perhaps derail that.He wasn't about to tell the boy to become a bloody spy in recompense and give him purpose.Draco couldn't handle that--he was certain of that as anything before in his life.

He saw Hermione standing a little aside, still clutching Icarus, undisguised pity on her face for Draco.He sighed quietly.She had much to learn in the ways of dealing with people, but he had to admire her ability to forget how Draco had been to her.Potter and Weasley wouldn't be half so generous, and he thought not for the first time that she was too good for those two.

"Well," he said quietly."Shall we work on your potion?"She nodded in relief, as he led the way into the dungeons, both a little uneasy over what had just happened.Times are changing, and us with them, he thought wearily.It only remains to see if we have changed enough…

Chapter Twenty-Two

Snape furrowed his brow in concentration, black eyes intent upon hers."No," he said, shaking his head."I know you said something, but…"He shrugged. "I don't recall what it was."

Hermione let out a cry of triumph at that."It worked!"She grinned in delight.The potion could be used to leave just traces of a memory as well, in situations where having traces left would be useful.

When the potion had been completed a month ago at the end of January, such was what Snape had asked her to do for Draco Malfoy.She had just confirmed that the memory of his words had been completely erased, and had been replaced, interestingly enough, by a memory of falcon-flight.

"Bravo, Miss Granger," he had said, giving her a genuine smile."The Ministry shall indeed be pleased to hear of this."He had then taken a deep breath and addressed her frankly and without pretension."I would ask something of you, if you are willing.I believe that young Mister Malfoy could benefit from this potion."

"You want to erase what he did?" she had protested."But then he'll go back to being his old self…I thought you said you didn't mean to absolve him!"

"Never an absolution," he had said, lips pressed tightly together for a moment in self-regret, "but…let me say it to you this way.Do you think it is possible to erase enough of the memory that he doesn't feel a need to prove the human inability to fly, but leave enough so that he still knows he's done," another grimace, "a terrible wrong?"

"Erase the details, you mean, and leave the overall impression?"

"Exactly.As is, I see him," Snape sighed, leaning against a worktable and crossing his arms over his chest, "breaking his word eventually to not end it all.Such things only grow with time, not fade…"

She was astonished how little he bothered to hide such things from her any longer.In between days in the workroom and evenings on the wing, somehow, some of the barriers had been erased.It hardly seemed like they were teacher and student sometimes, and that was a little frightening.

She understood what he was asking, and knew he didn't ask it lightly.Something within her was gratified to know that he honestly cared for the Slytherins that much and that he trusted her enough to be a part of this.Quite honestly, she was more than glad to do this--she could tell Draco was constantly teetering at the breaking point.He had spent more than his share of time in the hospital wing, and she knew Snape had spent more than one of their sessions here in the workroom brewing Dreamless Sleep Potion to replace stocks Draco was rapidly depleting.

So she had set to work again as Snape sent the news of her triumph to the Ministry, urging her also to perhaps consider publishing an article upon the potion."Take credit for your work, Miss Granger," he had said when she protested."No Gryffindor modesty.You've earned it."

Another month of hard work to perfect it.Practicing drawing out memories of objects or words from another person (Snape usually) into a Pensieve.That was necessary, since to use the potion the healer would need to extract the memory from the patient, but it was laborious indeed.Endless equations and testing to find out how to leave only a permanent wisp of the original memory behind. Impressions, but not details.

It was based upon the Muggle concept of limiting reactants in chemistry, she found.When she added the anti-memory to the Solventus, she first removed part of it.That ensured that there was not quite enough to completely bind to and erase all of the original memory.The two would have had to be in equal proportions to completely cancel.The tricky bit was finding out the exact proportion of anti-memory to memory to receive the desired effect.The Forgetfulness Potion would fill in the hole left by the partial destruction of the memory, effectively binding the wisp of memory left to a small confine and leaving it no room to expand back to its full vividness.

After a month, she finally had it.Thank God.It was getting messy, she thought, blushing a little.More than once she had left Snape with a funny turn when she got the proportions wrong--either the memory was hardly touched, or he'd recall nothing whatsoever.She had to respect his determination to succeed in this as great as her own, willingly being her guinea pig.

It appeared that omitting a carefully measured eighth of the anti-memory produced the desired effect."You're certain it worked?" she asked, carefully using a Destruction Charm on the rest of the anti-memory.

"It feels like it was twenty years ago or more," he replied, looking quite pleased, "rather than ten minutes.I know you said something, that I was listening closely and hoping that it would be successful, but I don't recall a word of what you said.I do remember I was surprised by it!"

She had said rather facetiously, "Slytherin'll win the Quidditch Cup this year."Half the reason she had said that was for the amusement of checking the anti-memory and having herself say that of course, Gryffindor was due to win.

She chuckled softly."I suppose we should test it again to make certain it wasn't a fluke and that my numbers are right," she said cautiously, initial elation tempered with the realization that one success didn't indicate perfection.It could have been random chance.

"Very well," he replied."To think I'm seeing the day where I'm actually letting a Gryffindor play around with my mind…good God.The Slytherins of '78 would have been horrified with me."He seemed caught between sarcasm and genuine amusement.There were times she could swear he was bantering with her without bothering to act dark and brooding.Maybe it's because he knows I'm actually listening, she thought.And that I've seen his worst and still insisted on staying the course.He honestly respected her, she was certain.He hadn't gone so far as to be kind to her in Potions class, but she wasn't sure either of them would handle that well.And too, she had stopped trying to desperately prove herself in class by knowing everything.There were other means of proving her worth now, and that satisfied her quite well.

She began carefully cleaning the equipment to run another trial."Are you certain you want to do this today?I have been working with your mind quite a bit lately.I don't want to overdo it and perhaps cause an accident."

He raised an eyebrow, handing her a flask to clean and going to his cauldron next to hers to stir up the latest batch of Dreamless Sleep Potion again, tipping in another poppy blossom to correct the imbalance indicated by the pale blue coloration."There are not many memories I would miss much," he stated quietly."Another try, Miss Granger, and if it succeeds, I believe young Draco will be your first case this weekend."She nodded.Even if I slip slightly, she realized, Draco would be better off than he is now.But she was instinctively methodical and meticulous.She would not make a mistake.

She thought for a moment.Something suitably trivial, that wouldn't be embarrassing to leave in his mind if things went wrong."Crookshanks seems to like you."

He smiled a little."He's an opinionated chap," he replied, sitting down on the stool by the worktable.She hid a grin.So are you, sir.

Touching her wand to his temple, she concentrated on drawing out the memory concerning Crookshanks.It was exhausting work--her idea of the memory she wanted had to be as detailed as possible to get the right one, and that was a little difficult if she hadn't been there to experience it.Still, for one experienced with a Pensieve, it wasn't that difficult of an obstacle.She completed the rest of the potion easily, and he drank it.

He confirmed that it had worked, looking puzzled when she asked him how Crookshanks felt about him."How should I know?" he asked, obviously baffled.

"It worked," she assured him, feeling a warm glow of elation.She had done it.They had done it, much as he disclaimed his help.

"Does Saturday evening work for…"She trailed off, tidying up again.

He nodded absently."I'll make certain that he is here," he assured her, turning back to his potion.

She left quietly, saying only a "Good night".Tiredly she climbed to Gryffindor Tower, a month of hard work day and night taking a hard toll.She only hoped that Voldemort wouldn't call Snape tonight.He had been summoned only two days ago, so it was unlikely.Still, it's all worth it, she thought, picking up her Herbology text with a suppressed yawn.

Saturday came, and she got through the day rather nervously.She started worrying if the potion would have the desired effect upon memories with truly strong emotions that her simple memories of words said did not.The proportions might be wrong--I might leave too much with emotion that deep, she thought frantically, eating her beef stew at dinner, barely aware of Professor Flitwick asking her whether her acceptance from Lothlorien had arrived or not.

Sheepishly she smiled and said that it had not, but it was not due till next month anyhow.She ate quickly and took a peek over towards the Slytherin table.Draco sat there, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle.There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and he looked paler than usual.He had excused it off to a bout of Gambrellian Influenza procured while on Christmas break, a disease that could take up to six months to run its course.Here at Hogwarts, only she, Snape, Draco, and most probably Dumbledore knew the true circumstances.It was an awkward thing sometimes to be in such privileged (or more perhaps burdened) company.

After completing her History of Magic essay, she said a good-bye to Tosca and Crookshanks, chattering happily away in her room about the quality of mice available for hunting these days, and headed for the dungeons.

"Sugar plum!" she said softly to the door of the workroom, suppressing as always the urge to giggle at the rather ridiculous password.She had heard Snape say it, nearly biting off the words in disgust.Unlocking the door, she went in and carefully began gathering the ingredients she'd need.Glancing at the large jar of Forgetfulness Potion, she was thankful for its long shelf life.The batch she had made the previous fall was as good as new, though she had perhaps only five doses left now due to copious tests over the months.

She carefully measured out a portion of it, setting it to heating.Thankfully, he had left her the portions of sea cucumber gelatin, Chimaera venom, and Fetch feather powder that she'd need, rather than waste time retrieving them from his office.Going to the storeroom, she grasped the jars of Arctic seawater and cordgrass, carrying them over to the worktable.

She set to work preparing the Solventus, idly moving the Pensieve aside for the moment.She was in the middle of precisely titrating the Chimaera venom with the Fetch feather powder buffer when she heard the door quietly open behind her.

"What's she doing here?" she heard Draco ask, trying to sound angry but voice a little too quavery for it."You said nothing about Granger, sir."

"She developed the potion," Snape said rather shortly, obviously having explained the principle of what they intended to do."She is sworn to secrecy of this."

"I suppose you told her everything," Draco said bitterly."So Granger, what kind of monster do you think I am?"Beneath his mocking tone was a deep well of self-loathing.His blue eyes studied her dully.

"I only know," she lied without compunction, "that you have a memory that needs removal."He seemed to relax a little at that, but the tension in his body still betrayed his nervousness.

"This works?" he asked dubiously, sitting down as she gestured him to the stool

"Do you think I'd let her experiment willy-nilly on you?" Snape replied.

Draco grimaced."Point taken.Well, Granger, do your worst."He settled his hands on his knees.She carefully recalled that night, trying to draw out the memory from his mind.

It came reluctantly, obviously deep-rooted in his mind, flowing into the Pensieve like thick tar.Draco let out a low, almost animal whine of pain, hands fisted in his robes.It's been occupying a good portion of his mind, she realized, hands fumbling slightly.It's not like those minor memories…

She looked at Snape, who looked slightly concerned, but gestured for her to go on.Anything has to be better than what he has now, she told herself, steadying her hands with an effort.She noticed that the memory filled more of the Pensieve than she was used to.The memory was Inversed, checked, and the usual eighth taken out, she hoping that removing the memory hadn't left an enormous hole the potion would be unable to fill.It nearly broke her heart to see that the anti-memory was of him saving the girl.

Routine took over from there, as she added the anti-memory to the Solventus, and then that to the Forgetfulness Potion.She handed him the cupful of effervescing potion, and he cautiously drank it, eyes still disbelieving.

A minute later, Snape quietly asked him, "What do you remember about the Christmas holidays?"

Draco blinked and furrowed his brow in concentration."I came back to Hogwarts early."He paused for a moment."And I know I did something…something wrong, but," he shook his head and grimaced, "I don't know what.It's all fuzzy."

Snape gave her a relieved smile behind Draco's back."How do you feel about the Death Eaters?" he asked casually.But Hermione clenched her hands into fists, biting her lip.This was the answer that would confirm success or not.If Draco wanted to avoid the Dark Mark like the plague, all was well.If it had gone wrong, he'd be back to his old, obnoxious self, and it had been a complete failure.

"Depraved bastards," Draco said in something close to a snarl.He smiled humorlessly."I hope it doesn't run in the blood."He looked thoughtful."I suppose not.Whatever I did, it's got me completely off the idea of following in Father's footsteps."He shuddered."May I go now?" he asked Snape, almost politely.

"Yes, and let me know if any of the old symptoms persist," he replied.Draco gave a curt nod and headed out the door, still looking confused, but somehow relieved.

She was aware that while she was scrubbing out the cauldron he lightly touched her on the shoulder and said a quiet, "Thank you."She heard the quiet swish of black robes, and the sound of footsteps towards his office.When she looked up, he was at his desk, bent over a stack of essays.She placed her hand on her shoulder where his had been, a little bemused as she finished.

She smiled a little and left the workroom, feeling quite pleased with herself.A spy and creator of a valuable potion: she had absolutely no reason to doubt her usefulness now.Crookshanks and Tosca demanded to know how things had gone as she stepped into her room, and she launched into a retelling for their benefit, relaxing and allowing the pride in what she had done to flow.