Destiny of Morgan

Chapter 4

Hermione had noticed the bewildered look of self-discovery on Draco's face as he sat there. She said over Harry's shoulder as her tears subsided, "Ma- Draco? Are you alright?"

Draco smiled at her concern, "Y- yeah . . . I'm just glad that you're all right . . . you had us both very worried there."

"I'm sorry . . ."

"Well, I hope you don't mind, but I have something I need to do. Harry, please take care of her," said Draco getting up at once trying to hide the flush that was beginning to steal across his slightly tanned cheeks, he noticed that Hermione and Harry both nodded seeming to understand.

"Sure thing Malfoy," said Harry. Even though Harry used the name by which he'd been calling Draco for years (other than The Fabulous Flying Ferret Boy and such nonsense,) Draco noticed that it wasn't laced with the usual malice that always seemed to come with anyone saying his last name especially when it came from one of the golden trio. He hurried out of the hospital glancing at Hermione quickly, and then he was gone.

By this time Harry and Hermione were sitting side by side on Hermione's hospital bed just letting the silence consume them for a while, while each was left to their own thoughts. That peace was just what Hermione needed after having nothing but flashbacks with little more than an hour of room for silence from one to the next, and they always seemed to flow flawlessly into each other as one took place of another when there was no space between two of them. Not a moment of silence in her head ever came since that summer because she was trying to process everything that happened and handle it all at once . . .and it wasn't working . . . but it was heaven for her in that moment of thoughtless silence.

Harry smiled to himself, he had seen the way that Malfoy had looked at Hermione, he could see the sudden realization in his eyes as he turned back quickly to look at Hermione. Malfoy was in love with Hermione . . . but there seemed to be something else in his gaze that one could only see with a trained eye (and a very well trained eye at that), more of a troubled look then he'd ever seen in anyone . . . but he didn't know what was causing him so much trouble and let it pass figuring it had nothing to do with Hermione. Harry wondered how Hermione would feel about him if she knew . . . even if she didn't, he still wondered. He was about to voice his thoughts when his Godfather, Sirius Black, walked into the hospital wing.

Harry and Hermione smiled at him, both so happy that since Lupin had to leave the teaching business again, that he had replaced Lupin as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since his name had been cleared two years before when they were able to prove to Fudge that Voldemort was alive, and so was Peter Pettigrew. "Hermione, I came as soon as I could, are you all right?" he asked in a fatherly voice.

"Yeah, I'm much better now; it's nice to see you . . . were you doing something for the Order? Is that why we had a substitute for the past week and a half?" said Hermione quietly. Even though she mentioned the Order, both Harry and Sirius could see that was not why she was being so quiet. Though she didn't know why, she felt that perhaps now as the time to explain. She grabbed a bowl that was on the bed stand and set it next to her. They both looked at her curiously for a minute.

"Harry? Sirius?" she asked more quietly still. They both looked at her questioningly. "Do you know what's wrong with me?" she decided that was the easiest way to open up this conversation.

"Madame Pomfrey said something about Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome to me," said Harry, and Sirius nodded in agreement.

She hesitated for a second, swallowed hard, and then said, "Would - would you like to . . . know what caused it?"

Both nodded their heads and waited for Hermione to continue, both knowing that no matter what, this would be very hard for her. Hermione knew that she couldn't bring herself to describe what happened, so she continued on with her idea. Both of them no longer wondered what she had grabbed the bowl for as she pointed her wand to her temple, then whispered something and pointed her wand to the bowl and a silvery liquid spilled into the bowl.

"Pensive . . ." said Harry. Hermione nodded her head and began extracting more memories. Harry remembered his two encounters with pensive prior to this . . . once in Dumbledore's office in fourth year and then in Snape's office during Occlumency lessons in his fifth. "Hermione?" asked Harry quietly watching her every move.

""Hmm?" Hermione said concentrating on her last two memories, one from just two days before school when Death Eaters killed her mum, then one at King's Cross Station very, early in the morning since her father had to work early, as she was getting close to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. The last time her father beat her, and he didn't waste it . . . he beat her to a bloody pulp, just leaving her face untouched. Then he proceeded to tell her that he blamed her for everything, and that he'd never loved her even before she knew . . . he only thought of her as a nice piece of ass and that was it, then he left her there. She extracted the two and put her wand down.

"How did you learn to do that . . .make pensive I mean?"

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore showed me during sixth year," she said, not bothering to elaborate on the subject. She moved the bowl towards them and said, "I don't want to be forced to relive those moments if it's at all possible . . . so just watch what happened."

Harry and Sirius agreed silently, then both looked at the bowl of pensive and Harry and Sirius touched their wands to it as they saw Hermione snooping in an office and the pensive seemed to suck them in. They watched everything; everything about her path to self-discovery; every time her father sexually abused her; every time her father beat her instead of trying to find a new way to 'climax'; even the one where Hermione was curled up in the corner after one of those episodes where her father decided he wanted to have oral and anal sex, and beat her all in one evening, and she kept her tears back until he left and she kept asking herself why in hell all of it had to happen, why he was taking her dignity and every thread of it, but left her virginity alone; then they forced themselves to watch Hermione as she was torn from her mother then made to watch her tortured and killed by the Death Eaters; then to top it off they saw the scene at King's Cross as she lay there helpless in an alleyway after a beating from her father.

Hermione watched as they reemerged from the pensive and landed back in the hospital and looked at her bewildered and sorrowful. None of them spoke for a minute or so. And when it was broken, Sirius was the first one to speak, "Hermione, do you know where that little box is right now?"

"It's in my bedroom, why?"

"Would you summon it? It's called Memoria"

"Sure . . ." Hermione picked up her wand and said, "Accio Memoria."

Moments later the little box flew into her hands and Draco walked in looking a bit shocked to have seen a silver box flying through the hall to the hospital wing. He had something around his neck, but they couldn't exactly see it.

"Mr. Malfoy . . . just the person I wanted to see," said Sirius. This just confused all of them.

"Sirius . . . what is going on here?" asked a befuddled Hermione.

"You'll see. Mr. Malfoy, could you hand me your key for a minute?" Draco handed him the key on a silver chain off his neck and watched as Sirius unlocked the little silver box. All of them except Sirius gasped at what lay inside . . .