Rating:: PG-13
House:: Schnoogle
Ships:: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Characters:: Draco Malfoy Ginny Weasley Remus Lupin Sirius Black Harry and Hermione and Ron
Genres:: Drama Mystery
Era:: Harry and Classmates Post-Hogwarts
Spoilers:: Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:: Published: 04/24/2003

Updated: 01/22/2004

Words: 29,285

Chapters: 7

Hits: 7,795

The Mists of Memory

Kagome-sama

Story Summary:: A life's debt is a life's debt. Even if you're Draco Malfoy. Even if you'd rather be dead than saved by

Chapter 03

Chapter Summary:: You're Draco Malfoy, and your life is not easy. Not only you have a debt with Potter (which thing is still annoying you), but you now owe your life even to somebody else ... and this annoys you even more. Moreover, you're forced to accept their rules and live with them. This way, you find out what Potter and his group did during the last four years. What will they ask you to do, to pay your life debt?

Posted:: 05/18/2003

Hits:: 662

Author's Note:: Written by: Kagome-sama

Chapter 3: The Rules of the Game

Mist. The world around him was filled with it.

He knew he was in a forest, but he didn't see any further than a hand in front of his nose while the pouring rain overpowered every noise. He vaguely remembered an intense pain, a battle ... one memorable clash. And now, where was he? Who was he?

With caution, he walked ahead, looking around. The intricate weave of the trees and the whipping of the thunderous rain hindered his sight. He turned around, and to his horror he found himself at the same point he'd started. He saw the body of a young man sprawled on the floor. It seemed vaguely familiar, as if he had known him well, but he didn't succeed in identifying him immediately. The boy was dark-haired and a little shorter than average. He couldn't see well, but the black hair, the robe and the cloak reminded him of someone.

He stepped back in horror when he noticed the blood that was splattered all around on the floor. He realized that the man had to be dead -- must have participated in the battle, because he wore a robe of ancient style and a kind of armour.

He noticed that, slowly, the mist began to disperse. The contours of the forest became clear and luminous and, finally, he could look around.

The dense woodland seemed familiar, even frightful; only the placid and calm waters of a distant lake broke it. Even if the mist had abandoned the forest, it didn't seem to want to disperse completely, and above all it didn't seem to want to abandon those waters.

Unexpectedly, in the distance, a muffled cry attracted his attention. He didn't know just where it came from, but it meant that he was not alone.

He moved, looking around with caution, he soon found the owner of the voice. Little farther ahead of where he was, lying by the river, was a man. He was not young, but his hair was red like burnt sky and was spotted with little threads of white. His face, suffering, was beaded with sweat. His clothing was of ancient style and was covered with his blood.

Next to the man, a small and delicate brunette woman was crying. Her long braids were completely soaked, her face hidden between her hands.

'Why did it have to happen?' asked the man in a weak voice. 'Was there need to arrive at this point?' The woman recovered from her pain, and bowed over the dying man.

'Do not concern yourself now. All shall be well ... you will be well. In the end, you were pardoned.'

'Yes, but at what price,...' he said. He seemed willing to say something else, but no more sound came out his mouth; the muffled and regular beating of the rain were the only noise that filled the silence of the forest. The woman bent over the dead body of the knight. Only her sobs resonated in the air, as a proof that she was, in some way, still alive.

*

Draco woke and instinctively sat up. He looked around and found out that he was on a sofa and wore clean pyjamas.

Where am I? It doesn't seem like the usual hostel ... nor is this sofa a place where I normally sleep, and I never put pyjamas on, he reflected while his senses noticed, without warning, the smell of food that wafted all around. His stomach rumbled furiously -- it seemed that he hadn't eaten for days. He blushed, looking to see that there was nobody around.

He moved his legs off the sofa in order to sit against its back. He felt weak ... but surely better than the majority of mornings he'd had until now. The place was warm, and the pyjamas smelled of soap.

Suddenly, he heard a noise and turned. He saw a girl with long, flaming red hair, who stared at him a little shocked. She was holding cloth that fell out of her hands at the sight of him. She quickly collected it, blushing and made to leave the room.

'Wait,' said Draco, 'who are you? You can stay here, you know ... I won't bite.' She blushed even more and stopped, watching him.

'I came to see if you had woken up. We were all worried about you. You've been very ill,' she said. Her voice was familiar, but who she was, he didn't remember.

'All?' he asked, frowning. Who's all?

' ... Harry, Ron ... all...' she finished.

Draco's eyes widened when he heard those names, as the memories of what had happened the night before came back to his mind. He blanched. Yes ... Potter had saved his life. And Draco had more to thank him for, besides that bloody Patronus ... Damn!

'How many days have I been ill?' he said.

'You've had a high fever for four days. Hermione studied a little Muggle medicine, and said that you had pneumonia. She made a potion in order to cure to you, and slowly you've got better. But you didn't wake up ... you've been in and out of consciousness for ten days.' She wrinkled her forehead at the grunt of irritation from the boy. She approached, however, and sat on a chair in front of him.

'You're Ginny Weasley, right?' She nodded. Very well ... not only did he owe his life to Potter twice, but now he also had to thank the Mudblood? He was positively ecstatic about the situation, he registered his usual sarcasm was still working. 'Now, all that's left is that Weasel has miraculously raised me from the dead overnight, and then I swear I'll commit suicide,...' he said.

'If you mean Ron,' said a voice to his right, 'he went everywhere to get ingredients for Hermione's potion, and almost got attacked by a Death Eater. However, he didn't do it for you, but because Hermione asked. Don't worry, your life's not in danger.' Draco turned and recognized Harry; he sank against the sofa.

'I was going to call you, Harry,' said Ginny rising hastily, as if the chair burned her.

'How long has he been awake, love?' he asked, emphasizing the word love in a way that Ginny didn't like, because she looked a little annoyed.

'Only a few minutes; he finally seems to be a bit better.'

'Good ... give him something to wear and show him the way to the library. I'll come back.' Harry approached Ginny and embraced her from behind, giving her a light kiss on the neck. She seemed to appreciate the gesture. Or at least, she didn't withdraw, but smiled pleasantly, ruffling his hair with an affectionate gesture.

I must be mistaken, Draco thought shaking his head. Ginny waited until Harry left, then walked over to a settle beside the sofa and took from it a robe, a cloak and some kind of underwear. She gave them to Draco and walked away, entering another room.

Wow! A wizard's robe ... how long has it been since I wore one? He dressed, suddenly happy, and sighed from the appealing feeling of the woven fabric on his skin -- he never was able to tolerate the Muggle clothing that he was forced to wear in order to hide. Sure, the colour maroon was not exactly his favourite ... and he guessed to whom that robe belonged. It was a little too long for him, but not distasteful.

When he had dressed, he decided to see what the girl was doing. He discovered that the room where she had gone was the kitchen. It had a wider atmosphere than the one in which he had been confined and was equipped with every type of comfort, reflected Draco.

In an angle, he noticed a funny clock that had faces of Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and a man he didn't recognize. All the hands pointed to the library, except the one of Ginny, which said kitchen, and the one of Ron. Draco couldn't read where it pointed. Ginny was at the stove, checking that the roast was cooking to its point.

At the unexpected smell of food, his stomach reminded him of just how many days it had been since he'd last eaten. Draco blushed to the root of his hair.

'I didn't think your face could ever get to that colour, Malfoy....' He turned to Ginny, who was smiling. Draco seemed to blush a little more, but he resumed his usual waxen colour almost immediately. 'However, I understand that after all those days without eating, you can't resist the smell of food. Go and seat yourself at the table. I'll bring you some tea with biscuits,' she ordered.

Draco sneered, noticing how comfortable she looked in the kitchen. She came with a pot of tea and some biscuits, and only when he bit into one did Draco notice just how hungry he was.

'Looks like you like my biscuits then. Ron says they're dull, Harry ... doesn't even speak of them at all.' She snorted. Draco couldn't answer, as he was entirely taken up with testing the capacity of his jaws. He hadn't eaten anything better than this in his whole life. Potter and Weasley must have somewhat strange tastes in food. It didn't surprise him, though.

'I saw, when he embraced you. You must be happy, Weasley. If memory serves, you nearly died mooning over him at Hogwarts,' he said after swallowing a little biscuit and washing it down with tea. He saw Ginny's expression darken.

'All that glitters is not gold.' Ginny stood, annoyed, and went away. After some minutes she returned with more biscuits and a second pot of tea. It was clear that she hadn't stormed off for those-- she could've simply made them appear on the table with a simple spell.

'What do you mean?' The hunger in Draco began to extinguish, and this new matter ignited his interest.

'Well ... Harry is now my boyfriend.' Her cheeks flushed. 'Not that he treats me badly, that is ... he's affectionate and kind. But nothing more.' A melancholic sigh jolted her chest. Draco watched her a little mockingly.

'What did you expect? I mean ... passionate love is bullshit from fiction novels,' he said, but Marion's smiling face flashed in his mind. She had been happy ... until his father had taken the initiative. Or, at least, she'd said she was.

'I know that, Malfoy. However....' The girl blushed, as if she were on the verge of saying something, but decided not to. She glanced worriedly and stood up, clearing the table. 'The others are waiting for you in the library. You go back to the small room with the sofa. Then you take the corridor to the right, and after the stairs, go through the glass door to the left. Not to the right or you'll find yourself outside.'

Draco was seriously thinking of getting lost on purpose, but then he changed his mind. With a maroon robe and a black cape, wearing slippers and without money in his pocket he'd not have gone far, in any case.

He followed Ginny's instructions, and he again found himself in enormity. The walls were filled with books of every kind. Some were the typical books of Wizards, old-looking and covered with dust. Others seemed Muggle. Surely Granger was not fastidious; she was attached to anything that was made of paper and had printed words all over it. There were also piles and piles of newspapers, every kind and in various languages.

'Finally you woke up, Malfoy,' emphasized a voice to his left.

Draco turned in the direction of the sound, and saw a pair of brown eyes that looked at him. After reflecting for a moment on who it could be, Draco decided the person was none other than Sirius Black. He stared at the man in disbelief--as far as he knew, Sirius was dead many years before. What was he doing there? He had seen his photo so many times in the newspapers that he could hardly be wrong. What had happened? He decided to leave it for later.

'Yeah. Seems I've slept a lot,' Draco answered, trying to keep his voice dry. He looked around, a little intimidated by the incredible mass of books that the room contained. In one of the lateral wings of the library, he saw a person carrying a pile taller than she was. The person approached quickly along the table where Sirius was sitting and put down her heavy load. When he could finally see her face, Draco noticed that it was Hermione.

'Oh, finally the sleeping beauty from the sofa considers us worthy of his presence,' she said.

'I've told you, Hermione, he only woke up a while ago,' said Harry's voice. Draco saw that Harry was standing on the stairs, reading a heavy and dusty volume.

'What do you want to do with him? You've had some time to think,' she said. Draco cleared his throat -- he didn't like to be talked about as if he wasn't there.

'Potter won't decide for me,' he burst dryly. Hermione glared at him.

'True. But he had the great idea of bringing you here, he has saved your life ... he has done everything. Thus, I think that he must also establish if you can stay here or not.'

'As for me, he can stay. I've said it plenty of times.'

'What if he was a spy?' Hermione continued. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed noisily: it seemed the girl had already placed this objection many, many times.

'I think that we'll find out soon enough if he's a spy or not,' Sirius said, closing the book he'd been reading. 'By now the game is made. Even if we made him go away he'd know where to find us. It's also useless to do a memory charm,' he continued seeing that Hermione wanted to speak again. 'I remind you that these childish games have no use with Voldemort.'

'Okay Sirius, I understand,' said Hermione. Draco's eyes widened after hearing the confirmation that his suspicions were correct--that man was indeed Sirius Black. But he had to recover quickly, because Hermione looked at him and asked, 'So ... d'you want to stay?'

'I don't have much of a choice,' he reflected. Thinking coldly, he didn't have any intention of continuing that life. Even if he'd had to share the house with Potter, Granger and the Weasleys, to be there was better than going from a Muggle hostel to another, risking to receive a Dementor's Kiss every night like a daily ritual.

'You're ready to swear not to betray us?' Hermione asked while her eyes narrowed into small slits on her face. 'I don't know if I'd believe such an oath, but ... an oath is an oath, after all.' Draco slammed a hand on the table; his grey eyes flamed with anger.

'I may also swear on the Malfoy name if you want,' he drawled, annoyed. How did she dare, a filthy Mudblood like her, doubt his word? 'If it makes you feel better, I mean. Someone saved my life, you know. It annoys me to admit it and also to remember it. But it's an unfortunate fact.' He sat on a nearby chair and chose a comfortable position, crossing his legs and arms.

'Very well,' said Sirius. Harry appeared on Draco's side, resting three books on the table and sat next to him. 'Since you've decided to stay, we need to establish some rules. Firstly, you'll have to clean up your act.' At that, Harry and Hermione smirked, and that greatly annoyed Draco.

'What do you mean, Black?' Draco said and sat more decorously, supporting his elbows on the table and his chin on the back of his hands.

'I mean that you won't behave as if all the world is indebt to your honour. You will do your part and you won't insult the others.' Sirius stopped and smiled lightly when he noticed that the boy was sneering. 'I shan't compromise on this point, Malfoy. I remind you that if anyone here loses their patience with you, we won't hesitate to give you your clothes and toss you back outside. After all, we'd only have to find another hiding place. It's not something that makes us smile, but it's not impossible.' Sirius's eyes turned towards Hermione while he emphasized anyone.

'I'll try my best, but it depends on the situation.' He noticed that his three companions stared at him a little incredulous. 'I mean ... I won't insult you if you won't insult me. And I shan't compromise on this. It will be difficult to hold my tongue. So, if you won't hassle me, everybody will be happier.'

'It seems fair to me.' Sirius looked seriously at Harry then Hermione, stopping a little longer on the girl. Then he eyed Draco. 'On second thoughts, Malfoy, you must swear not to betray us.'

'As I've said, I swear on the Malfoy name. Honour is the only thing that I've left, after all,' he said, seriously.

'Well. We'll try to believe you,' Sirius said, looking at Hermione with the corner of his eye. The girl didn't look happy with situation, but in the end she nodded, although grudgingly. 'There's another thing, Malfoy,' he continued. Draco watched, with a questioning look. 'You must learn to defend yourself from the Dementors. If you continue as badly as the past few days every time they pass along here, someone might discover us.'

'I can't promise to succeed, Black, but I'll try my best.' Draco was serious. He wanted to learn how to defend himself from those monsters, badly. He didn't want to see Marion's death before his eyes again. His heart bled, every time, and he couldn't show himself as a weak person in front of Potter and the Mudblood. Ah not ... Granger.

'If you don't violate these rules, you will always be welcome here. Now, take a book and begin to work.' Draco looked at Sirius as if he were crazy. What did he have to do?

'Sirius, you forget Malfoy doesn't know what we do here,' Harry reminded him. 'Unless he has psychic powers....'

'...Which is impossible, given the look on his face a moment ago,' said Hermione. Draco glared at her, but stayed silent and she seemed a little relieved by this. Probably it was a matter of trust: since Draco came to that house, she hadn't slept well. The marks under her eyes clearly showed that. At first, she was probably worried about his critical condition. He knew her sense of honour pretty well: even if it was him ... he was a human being. She had taken responsibility of his life, and if he had died, she never would've forgiven herself. But of course, her agitation didn't fade even when he got stable. She didn't trust anything he said, no matter what, and now his behaviour provoked her. Draco smirked at his sudden realization.

Hermione explained their situation in a few words. Two and a half years before, Harry's scar was hurting badly. In fact, they discovered that Voldemort had not been destroyed in the battle that had caused the death of Headmistress McGonagall. The Death Eaters came back more powerful than before and the fear re-insinuated itself in the Wizard World. Draco nodded--it was a story that he already knew well.

Lucius Malfoy was the first one to be condemned again as a Death Eater. Cornelius Fudge didn't trust him anymore since the day Voldemort officially returned. That time, Fudge had accepted his money and freed him from Azkaban; but Lucius had used an Unforgivable Curse and, a few days after it, the Dark Mark had came back ... this time no price could've been enough to save his life.

Panic had burst everywhere immediately after his execution. Narcissa went crazy for the fear and the humiliation, and was now locked up in Azkaban. The wizarding prison was now kept by mutant forms of Dementors, the ones that were going on the streets by now, magically forced to be obedient to the Ministry orders.

New Death Eaters had joined the forces of the Dark Lord, who seemed to be back stronger than ever. They had been forced to hide. This time the public opinion and the Ministry were by their side, but the Death Eaters were always looking for them and they didn't always expect the Ministry would protect them.

For months, they had hid between a wine cellar and a cove. She had had to renounce her studies and her new assignment; Ron to his career. That situation hadn't made them happy, but they preferred to hide than to die.

When they had found that shelter, abandoned because it was dangerous, they resolved to keep it safe with some spells and they established their home. Finding tranquillity again and a semblance of privacy, they decided to begin their research.

'Research of what kind?' interrupted Draco.

'We're trying to understand why the Green Torch didn't work as it was supposed to. Better yet, why it hasn't worked at all. That object was supposed to destroy Voldemort, not to knock him out for a few years,' Harry said. 'All the books that you see here have been supplied by the Ministry and several libraries. The newspapers have been piled up for a few years, we've not thrown anything away,' he explained.

'And what conclusion have you arrived at, in two years?'

'We didn't find any, unfortunately.' Harry sighed and opened one of the books, turning the pages absently. 'It seems there's nothing to explain quite what the Green Torch is. The only person who could've helped us is ... beyond our reach.'

He refers to Dumbledore, of course. Draco thought. The old Headmaster of Hogwarts had never found his sympathy, but the boy knew very well that, with respect to the Ancient Magic, he was the best one. He had vanished in unknown circumstances--his loss had been a relief for the Dark Lord, who feared him, and also for Lucius himself.

His father ... there was something that didn't ring true. Draco felt he had to remember something, even if he didn't know what.

'And I, what do I have to do?' he said, trying to forget the horrible feeling that he had something important to say and couldn't remember it.

'Work with us.' Hermione handed him a few books from another part of the table. 'Look for any information on the Green Torch.'

'I'm not a book-worm like you, Mud ... Granger,' Draco corrected clearing his voice. Hermione looked at him pointedly, but pretended not to have heard his insult. Maybe the reason was that he had corrected himself, and she found that was a step ahead.

'You think that being here going over these books and wasting my days is my ultimate goal?' she burst. 'I had a career, you know. I took care of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and I assure to you that it was much more edifying than breaking my back in this library, every day.' She shrugged at his sceptical glance. 'I still like studying. But I miss the travelling, and the International relations. ... Maybe this is too difficult to understand for the likes of you.'

Draco glared at her for a long moment, then took one of the books and began to read.