Defending the Dark (Dramione)

Chapter 6: What Our Memories Allow

Hermione examined the flask in her hand, turning it over a few times. She was very curious what Narcissa Malfoy's memories held.

Memories played a very critical role in the world of magical law. Of course, there were certain precautions, rules, and considerations that came into play but, overall, memories could be very telling when trying to establish the innocence or guilt of an individual.

Hermione was no stranger to viewing and assessing people's memories. She was trained to tell the real from the fake, and she had developed somewhat of a thick skin over the past few years due to the things she'd seen.

Now, as she held the flask in her hand, she felt uncertain. She recalled how Narcissa Malfoy told her things weren't as black and white as she thought. Hermione wasn't sure she agreed.

She herself had been there for some of Draco Malfoy's crimes. She recalled how he had acted in their sixth year over the time he'd been plotting Dumbledore's murder. Sure, Harry confirmed that Draco hadn't gone through with it. He even suggested that Draco may have been acting under duress, but Hermione still wasn't convinced.

After all, Malfoy had spent months plotting the demise of another human being, injuring and almost killing others in the process. Who did that?

No one innocent . . .

Hermione picked up her briefcase and left her office, but instead of heading toward the nearest Floo to go home, she climbed the stairs to the floor above her. To the Department of Mysteries where the Pensieves were kept.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she entered one of the many small rooms set up specifically for viewing memories. She closed the door before heading toward the shallow silver basin in the middle.

Hermione took a deep breath and uncorked the small flask. She hesitated, wondering if she should have someone with her as she viewed these memories. Just what was she about to see?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she dumped the contents of the flask into the basin and leaned over until she gently fell forward. She landed on her feet and looked around.

She was in a beautiful garden on a bright sunny day. The sun warmed her face, and the faint aroma of lilacs floated around her. Not far away, a younger Narcissa Malfoy reclined on a chaise lawn chair. Narcissa lay back elegantly, dressed in a soft flowing periwinkle dress. Hermione did a double take. She couldn't remember ever seeing Narcissa Malfoy wearing anything besides black.

A few feet in front of her, a small blond boy was laughing and running across the lawn, chasing a miniature broomstick as it flew around his head. Narcissa watched him lovingly, a serene smile on her face.

Intrigued, Hermione walked closer and examined the scene.

Without a doubt, the child she saw, probably no more than five years old, was a young Draco Malfoy. He had the same pointed face, pale skin, cool gray eyes, and platinum hair. She cringed, seeing the young child with his fine hair slicked back severely like she recalled Draco wearing it in their early years of Hogwarts.

What is wrong with his parents? Well, besides the obvious . . .

However, the thing that struck her most was the look of pure innocence and joy on his face. It was completely foreign.

"Mummy! Look how high it is!" The boy pointed to the sky. "I'm going to fly that high, too!"

"Not until you're older, Draco," Narcissa said with a smile.

"When I'm bigger," the boy said decisively, "I'm going to fly as high as the moon. Or higher. Just like Father!" He took off, running in wild circles around his mother's chair.