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To Bring You Back by Tiffr
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To Bring You Back

Tiffr

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! I read all of your reviews, and each make my updating soo much faster...I know, I know, it's so slow already, how could THIS be fast? But trust me, sometimes it takes way too much to motivate me...and school's been a beyatch. Hope you enjoy! Sorry about whatever spelling or grammar mistakes there are, I'm trying to get this out as fast as I can!

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To Bring You Back

Chapter Eight: Hope

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"We shouldn't be here."

Harry glanced over at Hermione, taking in the sight of her biting her lip and wringing her hands in nervousness.

"Do you want to go back?"

"Of course not," she replied, her eyes darting back and forth. "I just...we shouldn't be here."

Harry trudged on, the wind rustling leaves into his path. A satisfied crunch rang in his ears as he stepped on each leaf, a tenderness in his walk even he couldn't understand.

He didn't want to be here.

Harry sighed, his eyes raising to the familiar street. How he had hated living here...the moments he wished could be erased from his memory, the family he wished he had never met.

"Harry?" Hermione's soft voice rang from behind him. Harry turned around, startled to see that Hermione was crying.

"Hermione..." he began, frowning.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wiping her tears away. "I just...well...this brings back memories, that's all..."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, taking in a deep breath. "It does."

"Do you ever...you know...think about them?"

"All the time. It's ironic, though...I never thought I'd actually care enough to...to think about them, you know?"

Hermione smiled, stepping up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Harry.

"It wasn't right, how they died," she whispered, looking up at the house they were standing in front of.

"Yeah. They were...they were okay. In the end, anyway."

Number 4, Private Drive.

They stood there for a few minutes, Harry's blazing green eyes staring unblinkingly into the house that occasionally haunted his dreams.

And he thought about the family that had ultimately sacrificed themselves for him.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione's tender voice drifted. "Let's go."

Harry nodded, giving one last look to the place he once called home before smiling at Hermione and taking her hand.

"Let's go."

~-~-~-~-~-~

"Draco."

The door opened to reveal a pair of twinkling blue eyes, a smirk that Draco hadn't seen in a long time.

"Blaise," Draco replied, nodding. Of course Blaise would recognize him, even with this Merlin forsaken disguise on.

"Your eyes are still the same," she said, opening the door wider to allow Draco passage.

"Glad to know," he muttered.

"So..." Blaise closed the door, walking towards the den. "What is this I hear about the return of the oh-so-famous Draco Malfoy."

"I need your help," Draco muttered, raking a hand through his dirty brown hair.

"What else is new," she said airily, settling herself on her favorite chair.

"I hear you're married to Marcus Flint."

"I guess your ears are still functioning well. Tea?"

"No thanks."

"Upset, are you?"

"Why would I be?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. Blaise smiled.

"Marcus isn't all that handsome. Nor that great in bed...but he does know how to make a girl scream."

"Save me the disgusting gossip, Blaise."

"Yet he's come from good blood, and my son is a wonderful boy."

"Any child of yours would be wonderful." Blaise smiled again, raising from her chair to walk towards Draco.

"I'm sure you would've been an excellent husband, Draco," Blaise whispered, her blue eyes settling themselves deeply into Draco's gray ones. "And I'm sorry I wasn't given the chance to partake in such an experience."

"So am I," Draco replied truthfully.

"I'm sure," Blaise said, returning to her calm self. "So what do you need?"

"I need to know where my father is."

"Your father?" Blaise raised an eyebrow, adding, "What makes you think I know where he is?"

"You might not, but I'm sure Flint does."

"Ah." Blaise licked her lips, running fingers through her luscious black mane. "Flint."

"Blaise," Draco whispered, his eyes serious, "I need to know."

Blaise nodded, taking a step closer to Draco as she entwined her arms around his neck. She pressed her body close, turning them so he faced the fireplace.

"He's waiting for you," Blaise whispered into his ear. "Please. Don't go."

"I have to, Blaise."

"No, you don't." Blaise stepped back, cradling Draco's face in her hands. "Be selfish. Leave. Escape. We both know you can do it...make another life for yourself. You don't have to do this. You don't have to sacrifice yourself...again."

"I do," Draco muttered, sighing. "I don't have a choice. I can't be selfish."

Blaise remained silent for a few moments, her eyes roaming his face.

"You really love her, don't you."

"I do," Draco replied. Blaise smiled sadly, stepping backwards again as she adverted her eyes.

"Of course."

"Blaise," Draco began tenderly. "It's not that I don't love you...you do understand that, don't you?"

"You don't need to explain anything to me," Blaise replied, glancing up at him. "You don't owe me anything." Taking a look at his face she shook her head, smiling. "I'm all right, Draco. I've got a nice life, a loving son...I don't regret anything I did. And I'm sure you don't, either. I understand..."

"Thank you."

"You have changed though, Draco." Blaise laughed, shaking her head. "Never did I think I'd see the day..." She looked up, gazing into his eyes as she whispered, "She must be a wonderful person."

"She is."

Blaise smiled.

"He's in France. In our summer vacation home...but don't even think about going there. Wait until he comes back to England...Lucius was never patient, we both know that. Bait him, Draco. Don't go fighting blindly. Do what you're best at, execute your plans with grace. Wait for him to come find you."

"That could take too long," Draco said.

"Narcy is fine," Blaise replied, taking Draco's hand. "She is. Just play this right, and everything will be fine. I can't help you any more, Draco...I want to, I wish I could, but I have my son to think of..."

"I know," Draco said quickly. "I don't expect anything more from you."

"So here's my portion," Blaise said. "It's been a week, Draco, since you've last talked to your father. It'll only be a few more days till he's worked himself up a frenzy. He'll come back...and that's when you can do it. That's when you can finally finish the deed."

"You're telling me to kill him."

Blaise didn't reply. Instead she walked to the front door and opened it, smiling at Draco.

"Thank you," he said as he began to walk out.

"Oh, Draco?" Blaise called out as Draco was a few steps from her front door. Draco turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Do make sure I'm invited to your wedding. Alexander hasn't been able to meet his notorious godfather yet."

Draco smiled, nodding as he turned to walk away.

Blaise leaned against her doorframe, smiling as well.

It was always good to see a familiar face. And she had missed him so.

"Have hope," she whispered as Draco seemed to walk out of her life once again.

~-~-~-~-~-~

"Harry, dear!"

"Mrs. Figg."

"It's wonderful to see you again," she said, smiling at him. "And Ms. Hermione Granger! What a surprise!"

"It's nice seeing you again, Mrs. Figg," Hermione said, smiling at the old lady.

"What brings the two of you here?"

"We, uh..." Hermione glanced at Harry, who nodded in support. "We needed to talk to someone, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Um...Miranda. Miranda Figg?" Mrs. Figg's smile froze, a suspicious look replacing the kind warmth in her eyes.

"Miranda?"

"Yes," Hermione said, hurriedly continuing. "I need to speak to her...D-Draco Malfoy informed me that she was holding a letter for me, and I-"

"Draco Malfoy?" Mrs. Figg interrupted, blinking. "He told you to come here?"

"Yes."

"He didn't really murder Mr. Weasley, did he?"

"No."

"Ah," Mrs. Figg said, nodding. "Well...do come on in, the two of you."

Hermione and Harry stepped into the house, Hermione glancing around warily. Mrs. Figg walked into the kitchen, and the sounds of teapots whistling and spoons clinking could be heard throughout the house.

"Miranda, dear," Mrs. Figg called up the stairs. "Do come down. You've got some company."

"Company?" a voice filtered from upstairs. "Coming!"

Soft steps could be heard thundering down the stairs and a small face was seen peering around the corner into the kitchen, soft curious eyes scanning the room.

"Miranda, this is Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

"Hello," she said slowly, her eyes darting from Harry to Hermione.

"Hello, Miranda," Hermione said, stepping up to shake her hand. "It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure's all mine...I think..." The teenage girl stepped up to shake Hermione's hand, smiling at her sweetly. "You too, Mr. Potter."

Harry was surprised to find that Miranda's eyes did not peer up to his forehead. Instead, they gazed into his own, and it was unnerving the gaze Miranda held. Her eyes were unblinking, large, peering defiantly into his own...

"Soo..." Miranda began, her blue eyes staring unblinkingly into Hermione's. "You're here for the letter, then?"

"Uuuhrm...." Hermione swiveled around and gave Harry a begging glance, her face slightly flushed.

Suddenly, Miranda greatly resembled ol' Mad-Eye Moody.

"Yes," Harry interjected, stepping up to support Hermione. "We are."

"Of course." Miranda's eyes went to Harry's and peered again into its jaded depths. "I was actually instructed to not allow you to read the contents of this letter."

"E-excuse me?" Hermione asked. "You...did you, I mean...talk? To, um, Ron?"

"Yes, I did," Miranda replied, yet her eyes remained on Harry. "He gave me the letter personally and gave me specific instructions. One of them was to give the letter to you and not allow anyone else to read it."

"What about the others?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Did Ron-"

"I'm not at license to say," Miranda said airily.

Nope, Harry thought, not Mad-Eye Moody. Miranda's another living, breathing Luna.

"But I do have to talk to you," Miranda said to Harry after a moment of silence. "If you'll come up with me to my bedroom..." Miranda then turned around and walked swiftly up the stairs. Hermione peered at Harry nervously before a piece of parchment swiftly flew to Hermione's side, a familiar scrawl on the front.

Harry felt it was time to leave. He quickly gave Hermione a reassuring smile and walked up the stairs, taking two at a time to match his long stride. Harry wondered which door he was supposed to walk into.

That question was immediately answered the moment Harry stepped into the hallway. Miranda could be seen sitting on a bed in the room directly to his right; Harry took a deep breath and walked in casually.

"What did you need to talk to me with?" Harry asked. Miranda patted the seat next to her and smiled at Harry.

"Do you think you could close the door and cast a silencing charm before you sit down?" she asked. Harry nodded, although confused. He quietly closed the door and cast a silencing charm, then sat down next to Miranda on the bright red quilt laying elegantly on top of the mattress.

"I have a letter for you as well," Miranda said, nodding as a piece of parchment drifted towards him. "Ron bewitched all his letters to find their readers the moment they came to see me. He trusted the two of you would find out, somehow. But before you read it..." Miranda sighed, closing her blue eyes momentarily as her shoulders drooped slightly. "Is Master Malfoy all right? I mean, he isn't convicted, is he? I'll be returning to America with him soon, won't I?"

"Well..." Harry ran fingers through his hair, pondering on how to respond. "I don't know if he'll be going back..."

"Is it the girl?" Harry's hand froze. "Virginia Weasley?"

"Uh...well..."

"He really loves her," Miranda plowed on, ignoring Harry's continual lack of words. "He has a framed photograph of her on his bedside table...he refused to visit Virginia, where his great-great-grandfather lives...on his mum's side, anyway...it all makes sense."

"Ahhuh..." Harry nodded. A photograph and ignorance of a vacation. Yes. Sure signs that a Malfoy loved someone.

"Wasn't she engaged to you?"

Harry was speechless.

"I read about it in one of Aunty Figg's letters, almost a year ago...she mentioned it in passing...it broke off suddenly, didn't it?"

"W-well..."

"It was because of Master Malfoy, wasn't it?"

"I..."

"She still loves him, right?"

"Um..."

"And you still love someone too, don't you."

"Wha?"

Now Harry was unnerved. Miranda smiled, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"You're so easy to read," she said simply. Noticing the shocked expression on Harry's face she laughed. "I'm not a full squib. I can't do real magic, with a wand and everything...but I can read minds. Not the type that reads memories...I can see emotions. It's like seeing auras, you know?"

"Oh."

Now Harry was completely speechless.

"So tell me more about this Virginia Weasley."

"W-well...I..."

"Or, rather, what happened between the two of you."

"I don't know...I guess she was trying to break away from what she didn't want to feel...this was after I confessed I loved her..."

Harry had no idea why he was revealing all these feelings to this near-stranger. But there was something that made him want to open his mouth, made him want to say the truth.

It could have been Miranda's powers, yes.

Or it could just be Harry being human. The fact that feelings can't bottle themselves up for too long.

"Ginny...she still loved Malfoy, even after he left her and everything. I guess she managed to convince herself that she loved me instead..."

"Then what happened?" Miranda asked, a small smile on her face.

"It was our wedding rehearsal. I don't know if you've ever been in one...but the final rehearsal, it just felt like...like it was the real thing. I saw her walking down that aisle, you know...absolutely radiating, her face slightly flushed, that smile...but when it came to the vows, she looked me in the eye and said, 'I take thee, Draco Malfoy'..."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"There's someone for you too, you know. I can tell."

"Oh?"

"Yeah...you love someone. You just don't know it yet..."

"Do I?" Both Harry and Miranda were shocked to see his harsh tone was full of bitterness.

"I'm sorry...I...well...I didn't mean to upset you.."

"No, I'm sorry...I guess I'm just a little unnerved, still..."

The letter Ron had written for Harry was prodding his leg, hovered in midair. Harry bent over and opened it with his fingers. Miranda watched Harry's eyes scan the page, and a few moments later, smiled as Ron's warning came true.

Harry Potter promptly fainted.

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reviewing's good for the soul...

A/N: This story's almost over! So sorry that it took so long to get it out...in any case, the whole "I take thee, Draco Malfoy.." is from Friends. Ha, Ross and Rachel! And the Dursely mention won't be explained later on...it isn't even fully developed in my head, actually, but I always liked the idea of the Dursleys existing for something than to torture poor, widdle Harry.

I've got another H/Hr AU fic in the works...but I'll only start it once I finish this. Which should happen soon. I hope, anyway!