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The Mists of Memory by Kagome
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The Mists of Memory

Kagome
The Mists of Memory

Written by: Kagome-sama

Translated by: Sneeky Witch

Beta-read by: Chibisarel and Porlock Thanks so much to both! *HUGS!*

Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A thing said by a character in this story is quoted from the japanese Comic "Fruits Basket". I'd like to point out that this is NOT a crossover with Fruits Basket. I just liked that phrase and thought to use it. Who knows Fruits Basket can understand which phrase I'm talking about.

Author's note:

I'm not picky about feedback, feel free to write whatever you want. I don't bite and I'm always happy to read your opinions! :)

Note of the 5 July 2003: Since nowadays, this fic is written OotP-wise. I've read OotP and I have worked on the already written chapters changing what wasn't compatible with canon. I hope that you will enjoy the changes!

Chapter 3: The Rules of the Game

Mist. The world around him was filled with it.

He knew he found himself in a forest, but he didn't see any further than a hand in front of his nose while the pouring rain overpowered every noise. He vaguely remembered an intense pain, a battle... one memorable clash. And now, where was he? Who was he?

With caution, he walked ahead, looking around. The intricate weave of the trees and the whipping of the thunderous rain didn't let him see anything. He turned around, and to his horror he found himself at the same point he'd started. He saw the body of a young man sprawled on the floor. It seemed vaguely familiar, as if he had known him well, but he didn't succeed in identifying him immediately. The boy was dark-haired and a little shorter than average. He couldn't see well, but the black hair, the robe and the cape reminded him of someone.

He stepped back in horror when he noticed the blood that was scattered all around on the floor. He realized that that man had to be dead - must have participated in the battle, because he wore a robe of ancient style and a kind of armour.

He noticed that, slowly, the mist began to disperse. The contours of the forest became clear and luminous and, finally, he could look around.

The thick brush seemed familiar, even frightful; only the placid and calm waters of a distant lake broke it. Even if the mist had abandoned the forest, it didn't seem to want to disperse completely, and above all it didn't seem to want to abandon those waters.

Unexpectedly, in the distance, a muffled cry attracted his attention. He didn't know just where it came from, but it meant that there was someone other than him in that forest.

He moved, looking around with caution, but didn't have to look for very long. Little further ahead of where he was, lying by the river, there was a man. He was not young, but his hair was red like the sun at sunset and was spotted with little threads of white. His face, suffering, was beaded with sweat. His clothing was of ancient style and was covered with his blood.

Next to the man, a small and delicate brunette woman, was crying. Her long braids were completely soaked, her face hidden between her hands.

'Why did it have to happen?' asked the man in a weak voice. 'Was there need to arrive at this point?' The woman recovered from her pain, and bowed over the dying man.

'Do not worry about that now. You will see that all will be well... You will be well. In the end, you were pardoned.'

'Yes, but at what price...' he said. He seemed willing to continue saying something, but his voice couldn't be heard over the muffled and regular beating of the rain. The woman bent over the dead body of the knight with red hair. Only her sobs resonated in the air, as a proof that she was, in some way, still alive.

*

Draco opened his eyes, unexpectedly. He instinctively sat up and looked around, uncomfortable. He was on a couch and wore clean pyjamas.

Where am I? It doesn't seem like the usual hotel... nor is this the couch where I normally sleep, and I normally don't put pyjamas on, he reflected while his senses noticed, without warning, the smell of food that wafted all around. His stomach growled furiously - it seemed that he hadn't eaten for days. He blushed; looking to see that there was nobody around.

He moved his legs off the couch in order to sit against the back. He felt weak... but surely, he felt better than the majority of mornings he'd had until now. The place was warm, and the pyjamas smelled of detergent.

Suddenly, he heard a noise and turned. He saw a girl with long, flaming red hair, a little shocked. She held something and it escaped her hands. It appeared to be a cloth. She collected it, blushing and made to leave the room.

'Wait,' said Draco, 'who are you? You can remain here you know... I assure you that I don't eat human flesh.' He tried to render the situation a bit more funny. She blushed even more, and stopped, watching him.

'I came to see if you had woken up. We were all worried about you. You've been very ill,' she said. Her voice was familiar, but who she was, he didn't remember.

'All?' asked he frowning a little. Who's all?

'... Harry, Ron... all...' she finished.

Draco opened his eyes when he heard those names, the memories of what had happened before feeling ill returned to his mind. He paled. It was true... Potter had saved his life. And he had the vague feeling he didn't have to only thank him for that Patronus... Damn!

'For how many days have I been ill?' he asked, frowning.

'You've had a high fever for four days. Hermione studied a little Muggle medicine, and said that you had pneumonia. She made a potion in order to cure to you, and slowly you've gotten better. But you didn't wake up... you were unconscious for ten days.' She wrinkled her forehead at the grunt of irritation from the boy. She approached, however, and sat on a chair in front of him.

'You're Ginny Weasley, right?' She agreed. Well... not only did he owe his life to Potter twice, but now he also had to thank the Mudblood? He was happier than ever with the situation... 'Now, all that's left is that Weasel has also done something for me, and I swear that I'll commit suicide...' He said ironically.

'If you mean Ron, he went somewhere to get ingredients for the potion for Hermione, and almost got attacked by a Death Eater. However, he didn't do it for you, but because Hermione asked. So, don't worry. Your life's not in danger,' said a voice to his right. Draco turned and recognized Harry; he sank against the couch.

'I was going to call you, Harry.' Ginny said rising hastily, as if the chair burned her.

'How long has he been awake, love?' He asked, emphasizing the word love in a way that, Draco supposed, didn't have appeal to the girl, because she looked a little annoyed.

'Only a few minutes; he finally seems to be well.'

'Good... give him something to wear and show him his way to the library. I'll come back.' Harry approached Ginny and embraced her from behind, giving her a light kiss on the neck. She seemed to appreciate the gesture. Or at least, she didn't withdraw, but smiled pleasantly, ruffling his hair with an affectionate gesture.

I must be mistaken, Draco thought shaking his head. Ginny waited until Harry left, then walked over to a piece of furniture beside the couch and took from a drawer items that seemed like a robe, a cape and some kind of underwear. She gave them to Draco and walked away modestly, entering another room.

Wow! A wizard's robe... how long has it been since I wore one? It was the only coherent thought while he dressed, suddenly happy. He sighed from the appealing feeling of the woven fabric on his skin - he never was able to tolerate the Muggle clothing that he was forced to wear in order to hide. Sure, the colour of maroon was not exactly his favourite... and he guessed to whom that robe belonged. It was a little too long for him, but not too much.

When he had dressed, he decided to see what the girl was doing. He discovered that the room where she had gone was the kitchen. It had a wider atmosphere than that one in which he had been confined. It was equipped with every type of comfort, reflected Draco.

He noticed, in an angle, a funny clock that had faces of Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and a man he didn't recognize. All the hands pointed to the library, except the one of Ginny, which said kitchen, and the one of Ron. Draco couldn't read where it pointed. Ginny was at the stove, checking that the roast was cooking to its point.

The unexpected smell of food made his stomach remind him of just how many days it had been since he'd eaten. The muffled noise his stomach made caused Draco to blush to the root of his hair.

'I can't believe that your face can get to that colour, Malfoy...' He turned to Ginny, who was smiling. Draco seemed to blush a little more, even if he resumed his usual waxen colour almost immediately. 'But I understand that after all those days fasting, you cannot resist the smell of food. After all, you're a human being. You seat yourself at the table. I'll bring you some tea with biscuits,' she ordered.

Draco smiled again, noticing how comfortable she looked in that kitchen. The girl returned with a pot of tea and some tarts and only when he bit into one did Draco notice just how hungry he was.

'It seems that you like my biscuits... Ron says that they are insipid, Harry... doesn't speak of them at all,' she snorted. Draco couldn't answer. He was too intent on putting the capacity of his jaws to the test. He hadn't eaten anything better than this in his whole life. Potter and Weasley must have somewhat strange tastes in food. It didn't surprise him, though.

'I saw before when Potter embraced you. You must be content Weasley. If memory serves, you nearly died, mooning over him at Hogwarts,' he said after swallowing a little tart and washing it down with tea. He saw Ginny's expression darken.

'All that glitters is not gold.' Ginny stood, annoyed, and went away. After some minutes she returned with more tarts and a second pot of tea. It was clear that she had not gotten up for that - she could've simply made them appear on the table with a simple spell.

'What do you mean?' The hunger in Draco began to extinguish, and this new matter ignited his interest.

'Well... Harry is now my boyfriend,' her cheeks blushed furiously. 'Not that he treats me badly, that is... he is affectionate and kind. But nothing more,' a melancholic sigh jolted her chest. Draco watched her a little mockingly.

'What did you expect? I mean... passionate love is bullshit from fiction novels,' he said. Marion's smiling face appeared in his mind. She had been happy... until his father had taken the initiative. Or, at least, she'd said she was.

'I know that, Malfoy. However...' the girl blushed, as if she had been on the verge of saying something, but decided not to. She glanced worriedly and stood up, clearing the table. 'The others are waiting for you in the library. You exit from the kitchen and go back to the small room with the couch. Then you take the corridor to the right, and after the stairs, go through the glass door to the left. Not to the right or you'll find yourself outside.'

Draco was seriously thinking of getting lost on purpose, but then he changed his mind. With a maroon robe and a black cape, wearing slippers and without money in his pocket he'd not have gone far, in any case.

He followed Ginny's instructions, and he again found himself in enormity. The walls were filled with books of every kind. Some were the typical books of Wizards, old-looking and covered with dust. Others seemed Muggle. Surely Granger was not fastidious; she was attached to anything that was made of paper and had printed words all over it. There were also piles and piles of newspapers, every kind and in various languages.

'Finally, you woke up, Malfoy,' emphasized a voice to his left.

Draco turned in the direction of the sound, and saw a pair of brown eyes that looked at him. After reflecting for a moment on who it could be, Draco decided the person was none other than Sirius Black. He stared at the man in unbelief -- as far as he knew, Sirius was dead many years before. What was he doing there? But he had seen his photo so many times in the newspapers that he could hardly be wrong. What had happened? He decided to investigate later.

'Yeah. Seems I've slept a lot,' he answered, trying to keep his voice dry. Draco looked around, a little intimidated by the incredible mass of books that the room contained. In one of the lateral wings of the library he saw a person carrying a pile taller than she was. The person approached quickly along the table where Sirius was sitting and put down her heavy cargo. When he finally could see her face, Draco noticed that it was Hermione.

'Oh, finally the sleeping beauty from the couch considers us worthy of his presence,' she said mockingly.

'I've told you, Hermione, he only woke up a while ago,' Harry said loudly. Draco saw that Harry was standing on the stairs reading a heavy and dusty volume.

'What do you intend to do with him? You've had some time to think,' she said. Draco cleared his throat - he didn't like to be talked about as if he wasn't present. And moreover...

'Potter won't decide for me,' he burst dryly. Hermione glared at him with an air of tolerance.

'True. But he had the great idea of bringing you here, he has saved your life... in short, he's done everything. So, I think that he can also establish if you can stay here or not.'

'As for me, he can stay. I've said it plenty of times.'

'And then, if he were indeed a spy?' Hermione continued. Harry raised his sight to the ceiling. Probably the girl had placed this objection several times, in as many days.

'I think that we'll find out soon enough if he's a spy or not,' Sirius said, closing the book he'd been reading. 'By now the game is made. Even if we made him go away he'd know where to find us. It's also useless to do a memory charm,' he continued seeing that Hermione wanted to speak again. 'I remind you that these childish games have no use with Voldemort.'

'Ok Sirius, I've understood.' said Hermione. Draco got his eyes wide after hearing the confirmation that his suspicions were correct -- that man was indeed Sirius Black. But he had to recover from the shock quickly, because Hermione looked at him, very seriously, 'So... d'you want to stay?' she asked.

'I don't have much of a choice,' he reflected. Thinking coldly, he didn't have any intention of continuing that life. After all, even if he'd have had to share the house with Potter, Granger and the Weasleys, to be there was better than going from a Muggle hotel to another, risking to receive a Dementor's Kiss every evening.

'You're ready to swear not to betray to us?' Hermione asked while her eyes became small slits on her face. 'I don't know if I would believe such an oath, but… an oath is an oath, after all.' Draco slammed a hand on the table; his grey-blue eyes flaming with anger.

'I may also swear on the name of Malfoy if you want,' he drawled, annoyed. How did she dare, a poor Mudblood like her, still doubt his word? 'If it can help you to feel better, I mean. Someone saved my life, you know. It annoys me to admit it and also to remember it. But it's a fact, unfortunately.' He sat on a nearby chair and chose a comfortable position, crossing his legs and supporting his hands to his chest.

'Very good,' said Sirius. Harry appeared on Draco's side, resting three books on the table and sat next to him. 'Since you have decided to remain here, I believe that we need to establish some rules. In the first place, you'll have to clean up your act.' At that, Harry and Hermione smirked, and that greatly annoyed Draco.

'What do you mean, Black?' Draco said and sat more decorously, supporting his elbows on the table and his right jaw on the back of his right hand.

'I mean that you won't behave like if all were due to you. You will do your part of job and you won't insult the others.' Sirius stopped and smiled lightly when he noticed that the boy was sneering. 'I shan't compromise on this point, Malfoy. I remind you that if anyone here lose their patience with you, we'd not hesitate to give you your jacket and toss you back outside. After all, we'd have only to find another hiding place - it's not something that makes us smile, but it's not impossible.' Sirius's eyes turned towards Hermione while he emphasized anyone.

'I'll try my best, but it depends on the situation.' He noticed that his three companions stared at him a little incredulous. 'I mean... I won't insult you if you won't insult me. And I'm the one who shan't compromise on this! It will be difficult to hold my tongue. So, if you won't hassle me, everybody will be happier.'

'It seems fair to me,' Sirius looked seriously at Harry then Hermione, stopping a little longer on the girl. Then he eyed Draco. 'In second place, Malfoy, you must swear not to betray us.'

'As I've said, I swear also on the name of Malfoy. Honour is the only thing that I've left, after all,' he said, seriously.

'Well. We'll try to believe you.' Sirius observed Hermione with the corner of his eye. The girl had an annoyed look, then agreed, a little grudgingly. 'There's another thing, Malfoy,' he continued. Draco watched, with a questioning look. 'You must learn to defend yourself from the Dementors. This house is not shielded. If you continue as badly as the past few days every time that they pass along here, someone might discover us.'

'I can't promise to succeed, Black, but I'll try my best.' Draco was serious. He wanted indeed to learn how to defend himself from those monsters. He didn't want to see again Marion's death. His heart bled, every time, and he couldn't show himself as a weak person in front of Potter and the Mudblood. Ah no... Granger.

'Very well, it seems to me that we're finished here. If you don't violate these rules you will always be welcome here. Now, take a book and begin to work.' Draco looked at Sirius as if he was crazy. What did he have to do?

'Sirius, you forget that Malfoy doesn't know what we do here,' Harry reminded him. 'Unless he has psychic powers...'

'...which is impossible, given the look on his face a moment ago,' said Hermione. Draco observed her with hatred, but refrained from speaking his mind. Perhaps... I am worrying too much. Perhaps they are right, she thought a little relieved. Since Draco came to that house, she'd always been tense and hadn't slept well.

From the very beginning, she had thought about his critical condition. Even if it was Malfoy... he was also a human being. And she had assumed the responsibility to cure him. If he had died, she never would've forgiven herself. Then, fortunately, he got well, but the restlessness didn't go away. She decided that it had to be a matter of apprehension. She didn't trust anything the boy said.

Hermione explained, in the most concise possible way, the situation in which they found themselves. Two and a half years before, Harry's scar was hurting badly. In little time it was discovered that Voldemort had not been destroyed in the battle that had caused the death of Headmistress McGonagall. The Death Eaters returned more powerful than before and the fear had re-insinuated itself in the Wizard World. Draco agreed - it was a story that he already knew well.

Lucius Malfoy had been the first one to be condemned again as a Death Eater. Cornelius Fudge didn't trust him any more since the day Voldemort came officially back. That time, Fudge had accepted his money and freed him from Azkaban; but Lucius had used an Unforgivable Curse and, few days after it, the Dark Mark had came back... this time no price could've been enough to save his life.

Panic had burst everywhere immediately after his execution. Narcissa went crazy for the fear and the humiliation, and was jailed in Azkaban. The Wizards' prison was now kept by a mutant form of Dementors... the ones which were going on the streets by now, magically forced to be obedient to the Ministry orders.

New deaths had recommenced to join the collection of the Dark Lord, who seemed to return, stronger than never. They had been forced to hide. Not because the public opinion, or the Ministry were against them. But because the Death Eaters were always looking for them and they didn't always expect the Ministry would protect them.

For months, they had hid between a wine cellar and a cove. She had had to renounce her studies and her new assignment; Ron to his career... that situation hadn't made them happy. But they couldn't avoid it, preferring to hide than to die.

When they had found that shelter, abandoned because it was dangerous, they resolved to keep it safe with some spells and they established their home. Finding tranquility again and a semblance of privacy, they decided to begin their research.

'Research of what kind?' interrupted Malfoy.

'We're trying to understand why the Green Torch didn't work as it was supposed to. Better yet... Why it has not worked at all. That object was supposed to destroy Voldemort, not knock him out for a few years.' Harry answered. 'All the books that you see here have been supplied by the Ministry and several libraries. The newspapers have been piled up for a few years, we've not thrown anything away,' he explained.

'And in two years what conclusion you've arrived at?'

'We didn't find any, unfortunately.' Harry sighed and opened one of the books, turning the pages absently. 'It seems that there's nothing to explain quite what the Green Torch is. The only person who could have helped us is... unreacheable.'

He refers to Dumbledore, of course. Draco thought. The old Headmaster of Hogwarts had never found his sympathy, but the boy knew very well that, with respect to the Ancient Magic, he was the best one. He had vanished in unknown circumstances -- his loss had been a relief for the Dark Lord, who feared him, and also for Lucius himself.

His father... there was something that didn't ring true. It was something that Draco felt he had to remember... although he strained to do so, and it didn't seem to want to be uncovered.

'And I, what do I have to do?' he asked, trying to forget the horrible feeling that he had something important to say and couldn't remember it.

'Work with us.' Hermione handed him a few books from another part of the table. 'Look for any information on the Green Torch.'

'I'm not a book-worm like you, Mud... Granger,' Draco corrected clearing his voice. Hermione looked at him pointedly, but pretended not to have heard his insult. He corrected himself, after all; that was a step ahead.

'You think that being here going over these books and wasting my days is my ultimate goal?' she said, annoyed. 'I had a career, you know. I took care myself of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and I assure to you that it was much more edifying than breaking my back in this library, every day.' She saw that the boy observed her skeptically and shrugged. 'Studying still appeals to me. I miss the traveling and perhaps the International relations... but this is too difficult to understand for the likes of you.'

Draco glared at her for a long moment, then took one of the books and began to read.

Author's Note:
Chapter 3 is finished! What do you think of it? I hope that the story is interesting you. What do you think of how the chapter starts? Is it a dream? A vision? Is it the past? The future? Who those people are? Please tell me in the comments your opinion :)

Now I will reply to the comments written for chapter 2:

frecklegirl87: I'm happy that you will continue reading the story! :) The fic is written in my language, Italian. My friend Sneeky was so kind to translate for me the first three chapters. After chapter 3, though, she wasn't able any more to do it. So since next chapter, you will read my crappy English and not her translation ^^ I'm sorry!

dreamcatcher_3107: *blushes* oh my... thank you! I'm happy that you like my story so much ^_^ I hope that you will like even the new chapters :). And don't worry there's no problem wanting to see Draco changing. Unfortunately in canon he's not a pretty sight to behold, not because he's a baddie... but because he's a bidimensional baddie. I love JKR, but she didn't have to do that to me... in book 5 she completely forgot Draco, he didn't grew up... so I'm filling the holes with my imagination ;) I hope that you'll like even this chapter :)
As for Ron and Hermione getting married... even the most hard H/Hr shippers I know told me that maybe something will happen between Ron and Hermione, but that it won't last long. Here... well, let's say that you'll see what it will happen, I won't be the one to ruin your surprise ;)

Ezmerelda: I'm sorry you had the flu :( I had it as well this August and I know it's not a nice thing :(. I hope that now you feel better and that you will keep reading this fic :).

Bye! Thank you to everybody for the nice comments!