Life as I Knew It

Chapter 30--Back in Gryffindor Tower

With one flight of stairs left to go, Professor Dumbledore mentioned the book Pansy was carrying. She had not really thought much about it before, but now she realized that this was a restricted book that she should not technically have. Not wanting to get anyone in trouble with the details, herself least of all, Pansy responded vaguely. "Yes, it's very interesting."

Pansy worried that he was going to press the issue, but he just nodded in a knowing way and proceeded up the stairs. Pansy watched as the fat lady stood aside for the headmaster.

In the common room, Hermione was huddled in the corner with Ron and Harry. "But just think about it, Ron," Pansy heard Hermione say. "How could your father possibly be a Death Eater? Why would we be friends?"

Professor Dumbledore interrupted the conversation before Ron could answer. "Mr. Potter, may I please have a word with you?"

Pansy stood back a little from the group. As far as she could tell, Harry was happy to leave his friends to their fighting. Ron barely acknowledged Harry's leaving. "I don't know, Hermione. Why don't you just tell me since you always have all the answers?"

"You're not Death Eaters!" Hermione said, exasperated.

Harry and Dumledore had already passed her, but Pansy was engrossed in the conversation before her. Would Hermione, in remembering herself, now be able to make others remember? "If I'm not a Death Eater, how do you explain the mark?"

Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and pushed up his sleeve. "What mark?" she asked.

Ron looked down. "Hmm. Maybe I'm not, then." Hermione nodded in a satisfied way.

Pansy was still interested to find out what happened next, but Professor Dumbledore had come back for her. He took a hold of her arm and led her to the hallway where Harry was waiting.

"Now, Harry, this is very important," Dumbledore said. "Do you know this girl?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, she sat with us on the train."

"Okay, Miss Parkinson, will you please talk to Harry?"

Pansy's jaw dropped open. "Me?"

"Yes, it occurs to me now that it may be better for you to do the talking." He emphasized the word 'better.'

Pansy had no idea what to say. This had never been part of the plan. "Harry, I wanted to talk to you about..." She spoke very slowly, hoping something would come to her, but nothing did. "Fifth year," she said finally.

Harry shrugged again. "What about it?"

With no script to follow, Pansy decided to just go for it. She leaned close, trying to maximize her ability to make him recall. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened in the Ministry of Magic that year."

"A bunch of us went there because we knew that Voldemort--" Pansy cringed at the name. "--was going to be there. Or no, we thought that... I thought that Sirius..." He shook his head as if to clear it. "And Moonshyne was dueling with Voldemort, and he was... It wasn't his fault; Bellatrix just got in a lucky curse, and even then... Did I say Bellatrix?"

From what Pansy could recall, it seemed to her that he was remembering things the correct way. Or at least, he was starting to. "It was Bellatrix, though, wasn't it?" she prompted.

"No. Why would Bellatrix kill... him?" Horror registered on his face, but he did not say another word.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Pansy would not let herself grieve for Sirius Black, and she would not let herself believe that Draco was happier without her, but in that moment, she could not stop herself from feeling sympathy for the boy she had hated for so long. She had taken Sirius away from him, and she hated herself for causing such pain.

Harry took several deep breaths and wiped his eyes with his arm. "I don't think I wanted to remember that."

"You have to remember. Because if You-Know-Who didn't die that night, then he's still out there."

Harry gave a mirthless laugh that sounded more like a cough. "Why would you care?"

"I care because I know the truth. I know what happened, and up until two minutes ago, you didn't. Hardly anyone does, and that's really odd."

"Does he know?" Harry gestured toward the headmaster.

"Yeah," Pansy said. "He started to remember when I got here."

"No." Harry leaned in close and whispered, "Does he know that he's supposed to be dead, too?"