Memories - Dramione story

Chapter 3

Hermione's POV

Here we were again. The Hogwarts Express. I was sitting with Ron, Ginny, and Harry. Ron was snoring next to me, his head on my shoulder, whilst Ginny looked at him with disgust, and Harry was fully concentrated on eating his chocolate frog. After long moments of listening to Ron's snores, Harry finally finished his chocolate frog and took today's Daily Prophet out of his back pocket. I watched as he unrolled the journal. He looked at the front cover and froze before his eyes quickly started traveling from left to right and vice versa as he read. «What's up?» I asked, intrigued by his reaction. He handed me the journal. 

On the front page were the words «Malfoy family becomes wealthier than ever» as a title and a picture of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, both dressed as well as usual. Draco seemed to be trying to cover the camera's objective with one hand but didn't look worried or uncomfortable. The thing that bothered me the most was this: the author of the article was Rita Skeeter. I started reading. «The Daily Prophet recently discovered from reliable sources that the Malfoy family recently sold all its property and possessions, which includes but is not limited to dozens of islands, manors, and plenty of magical artifacts of high value, making them the second wealthiest family in the wizarding world, right after the Potters, who's fortune completely belongs to Harry Potter.» I stared at the journal, completely shaken by what I just read. What was this about? Why would the Malfoys do such a thing? I continued reading. «The reason for such actions is unknown, because of the Malfoy's refusal to answer questions.» The rest of the article was about how one can become wealthy by selling all of his or her possessions, followed by stupid information about wealth. 

I lifted my eyes to look at Harry and Ginny. Harry seemed serious and calm, whilst Ginny was clearly curious about what was written in the article, judging by the way she gazed at the journal in my hands, like a predator hunting its prey. I gave her the journal that she quickly took out of my hands before reading it. I watched as she read. «They probably just want to buy the moon», she joked as she finished reading the article. 

It did, indeed, feel as if they wanted to buy the moon or the entire solar system. I started to think about what could make the Malfoys sell all their possessions before remembering the day I bumped into Draco Malfoy two weeks ago at Flourish and Blotts. «How can I prove it» were the last words he said when I last saw him, to which I answered, «Find a way». Finding a way to prove he was sorry? Could this be related to this unexpected action in some way? For some reason, I felt like there was at least something linking the two events together, though my words probably couldn't cause the Malfoys to sell absolutely everything they owned, could they? There probably was something else, but what?

«Hermione, what's up?» Ginny asked, breaking my thought process. I told them about what happened the other day, but even together, we came to the same conclusions without being able to make up a theory that could explain the situation. Also, this article was written by Rita Skeeter, and she wasn't someone who's words I was ready to believe in.

...

Draco's POV

The train was going fast and I tried to ignore Blaise's gaze by looking through the window, even though I knew that he wouldn't let go and would inevitably ask me questions about this article in the Daily Prophet. Of course, I knew my friend very well, and he ended up asking. 

«Why?» he asked. 

It was one simple word, but it was enough for me to understand what he was talking about. I decided to play dumb and to pretend not to know, even though I knew that Blaise would probably see right through me.

«What?» I asked, turning my head to look at him, faking ignorance.

«You know very well what I'm talking about», he said, his gaze hard and serious. 

«I don't want to talk about it», I said, bringing my eyes back to the window, hoping that he would let go.

«No,» he started, «I will not let go until you tell me what on Earth got through your mind again», he finished, making it seem as if he could read my thoughts. 

This was Blaise I was talking to. A Slytherin. My best friend. He would never let go. I knew him well and I knew better than almost anyone else that he wouldn't let go. So I opened up. I told him about my plan, that my mom agreed to help me realize. About how I planned on donating all the money we got from selling what we owned for good causes. About the modest house we bought with my mom and already lived in to replace the main Malfoy manor, that we had also sold. 

«Why?» he asked again, with the same tone as earlier. 

«Because I feel guilty», I said, knowing very well that he knew what I meant. 

For some reason, I felt like a weight was taken off of my shoulders, but I knew that this was not the end and that there still was more weight to take off. Way more weight. The train finally stopped. The sound of compartments opening started to echo in the train. I stood up, taking my luggage, and opened the door of the compartment we were sitting in. I started coming out of the compartment, but Blaise's voice stopped me. 

«Wait», he said, «I want you to know that there is something you don't know about yet. I don't think it's time for you to know, but you will know soon enough», he finished, a hint of what I could only interpret as worry in his voice. But why would he worry? 

Knowing that asking him would probably have no positive effects, I decided to simply nod and turned around again to head towards the exit of the train. 

The air outside felt fresh and the lights of the castle shined softly in the night. Who could have known that I would need to come back here for another year? Though this year was going to be different. This year, unlike the previous years, I would finally be able to be myself and not to be the jerk I was before. Looking at the castle made me feel warm inside, which was something that has never happened before. I even felt excited, which was pretty unusual. When I first came here, I was blinded by ideas of wealth and pure bloodlines. The eleven-year-old Draco thought that this entire school didn't deserve him. When I grew older, another problem occurred; I always had to kill someone or do something bad to serve the Dark Lord. Now, all of this was over. I didn't have a good reputation, but this was a problem that was far less serious than having to kill someone to prevent my life from completely getting ruined. I did feel guilty. But I also felt authentic, and more than anything else, I felt home.