Begin Again - Dramione

We Meet Again

Draco's POV

"The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers."
― Rachel Vince

It was silent. Yet it was the loud kind - the one which is more uncomfortable than say, Potter cussing me out at the top of his lungs. The unsaid, unheard thoughts and words were like slow poison sneaking into my system. The walls of the small room seemed to be caving in and I was starting to panic because I knew what was to come and I wasn't ready to lose my shit in front of Potter and definitely not Granger.

After staring holes through the coffee table for another ten minutes, Potter finally pulled out his wand and brought it to his temples. Slowly, he retrieved it and along with it came a familiar shiny silver strand of memory. Conjuring a vial with a flick of my wand, I put it on the table for him. He tossed the memory into the vial and for a moment we both watched as it writhed and frothed in the vial, like a snake.

"That's the memory of the last fight. . . In the clearing, when your mother saved me." He told me gravely. I avoided his gaze for some reason. Maybe it was the undercurrent of gratefulness in his tone or the fact that he knew as well as any - that my mother's actions had been purely selfish- no matter how noble they now seemed to look.

"Last question. . . Being the Chosen One, there was always something or another going on in your life. . Did you ever want to quit? Or run away? Get rid of it all?" I stared at the question scribbled neatly in Granger's writing on the parchment, for a long moment. What the heck was Granger thinking exactly while coming up with these questions? Every single one had been more and more ballistic than the last.

Potter seemed to mull over the question and I could almost see the wheels going into overdrive in his head. He frowned at me as if I'd asked something silly. Well, I kind of had but it was Granger's words not mine.

Speaking of whom, Granger had disappeared halfway through the actual interrogation with an excuse to go to the loo and had yet to return. I could tell how much reliving the war was bothering her, specially talking about everything that happened at the Manor.

"I would be lying if I say I didn't think of quitting. There were times. . .When I-I couldn't help but wonder how my life would have turned out if Voldemort hadn't murdered my parents. During the war, while trying to escape from Death Eater's and facing potentially fatal disasters every five seconds, I was surprised to even have my wits about me by the end. But the problem is," he paused, giving me a small smile, "Gryffindors don't quit or simply runaway."

My eyes snapped to his face as he said it and I could feel the air thicken, almost dramatically as my body launched into defense. The jab, no matter how sophisticatedly delivered cut through me. Narrowing my eyes, I waited for the usual judgmental glare to follow his statement. But it never came. His words had been somewhat provoking, but I could tell they weren't meant for me.

"Hey. . . I didn't mean to. . ." he had caught on my expressions. I shook my head curtly and stood up. He did as well. There was an awkward pause as we both thought of everything that had been said during the interrogation. The faint clicking of the door broke the silence and Granger walked in, her eyes red and slightly puffy.

She had been crying. I felt an odd stirring in the pit of my stomach but I ignored it.

It wasn't like I hadn't ever seen her cry before, I'd caused her to spill more tears than anyone else I knew throughout the years but it still caught me off guard to see her almost vulnerable. Something about the dull brown eyes didn't sit well with me.

"'Mione. . . are you okay?" Potter whispered walking towards her. She nodded her head slowly giving him a weak smile. I turned around and began to gather the scattered parchments from the coffee table as to avoid intruding on them. I was slightly surprised to notice my unexpected civility. I had thought one of us would've ended up in St. Mungo's ten minutes into the whole business but we'd all borne it like mature adults. Guess, something good did turn out of this war?