The Memory Chest
Hermione slipped out of bed well before daybreak and tucked the last of the belongings she’d need for Christmas into her duffle bag, just in case her time with Draco took all morning. She enjoyed waking up this early sometimes, working in quiet solitude as everyone else slept. She showered and changed into her favorite jeans and a green sweater. She brushed her hair while listening to her mp3 player, one of the comforts from home she dragged out when no classmates were around to explain herself to. She fixed the hair clip Snape had given her years ago into her bushy mane, and fixed the blood red pendant around her neck. She slipped out of the portrait hole silently and made her way up to the room of requirements through the empty castle.
Draco was waiting at the opposite end of the corridor, and when she arrived, he made his way over, the door appeared out of solid brick, and he opened the door for her to let her in. Hermione had been in the room of requirements for a lot of reasons through the years, but she’d never seen this room before. It looked like someone had taken all the boxes of knick-knacks and broken things from her grandmother’s basement, and dumped them in a cavernous hall with everyone else’s grandparents’ things. She had never seen so much junk, so many teetering piles of dusty books, so many broken chairs and forgotten sweaters and everything else she could think of.
“This is the room of hidden things.”
Draco took her hand and began leading her down a path through the junk. He squeezed her hand and led her in the opposite direction of the vanishing cabinet, covered by an old sheet. He weaved his way past piles and stacks until he stopped at a huge brass statue of a mermaid. They walked behind the statue, and Draco began moving a pile of old socks.
“This is the room where everything goes that has been lost at Hogwarts over the ages, or anything people wanted to lose.” He finally pulled an old wooden chest from behind the statue, it had dark stained wood and large brass hinges and a lock, but it didn’t look special. Draco knelt down, took an old brass key from his pocket, unlocked it, and opened the lid.
“What is all of this?”
Hermione knelt down to look at the contents. Old scraps of paper, photos, bits of jewellery and books.
“This is my life. Everything I couldn’t bring myself to throw out, but isn’t safe to keep around. The Death Eaters can’t ever find this stuff.”
Draco and Hermione sat down together and started digging through the chest. Hermione pulled out a pile of letters she’d written him, along with the magical parchment to send notes, and a few other stacks of letters from family, friends, and Severus. She lifted up the kitchen knife she’d gotten him for his birthday, still in its muggle box, the man at the store said it was the best, chefs swore by it. There was a bag of gold coins, in case of emergency, enough, Hermione thought, to get a start on a new life somewhere else if need be. Draco set down a stack of books and Hermione picked up the top one.
“Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child?” Hermione giggled.
“It’s your fault, you’re a bad influence on me.” Draco said.
“I think that’s supposed to be the other way around.”
Draco pulled out a photo album and they flipped through it together. A small blonde boy on the shoulders of Severus Snape, who was sporting a pony tail. Draco on Lucius’ knee while he played wizard’s chess with Snape. A disgruntled baby screaming and flailing his water-winged arms while Narcissa smiled and held him in a lake.
“You were such a cute little kid.” Hermione giggled.
“I’ve always been cute.”
“What is this?”
Hermione looked closer at a photo of loch cottage, a sail boat moving magically on the water.
“Severus must have been lurking around taking pictures of us that day.”
Suddenly, someone in the photo fell out of the boat.
Hermione snorted. “That’s the day you insisted on captaining the boat and you fell out.”
“You pushed me.” Draco said.
“Tomato, tomahto.” Hermione giggled and turned the page.
There were some muggle photos Hermione had taken of the cottage, of Draco cooking in the kitchen, of the ruins above Hogwarts, Snape and Hermione coming out of the woods, Snape giving his daughter a piggy back ride. And lastly, the only photo of Hermione and Draco together, another sneaky shot from her dad. They were standing in the kitchen, their backs to the camera, something boiling away on the stove. Draco turned and fed something to Hermione off a spoon. She smiled and he laughed as he wiped the spilled liquid from her lips.
“I don’t even remember him taking all of these.”
Draco sighed. “That man was born to be a spy, that’s for sure.”
Hermione turned to Draco. “Make me a promise, Draco. When this is all over, after the war, when the dust has all settled, we’ll all do it again. We’ll go back to the cottage. We’ll try to sail and get capsized in a cross-wind, and you’ll burn dinner because you took a nap on my lap while I read, and dad will complain for weeks about how there’s too much lawn to cut, and neither of us ever help. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
Draco pulled Hermione into a hug and rested his chin ontop of her head of a moment.
“What are you going to do with all of this stuff.”
“I’m putting all of it in your care, even the key isn’t safe with me, so I’m giving it to you. But there’s one last thing I need to give you.” He pulled a piece of parchment out of his breast pocket and unfolded it. It was a letter like Hermione had told him to write, explaining the whole situation with the Death Eaters, that he didn’t wish to serve them, but he was in danger. He closed the lid of the trunk and set the letter down, then set down a quill.
Hermione picked up the quill as she read the parchment. “You know, Draco, this plan will only work if you don’t carry out missions for them, if you put an effort into not helping them.”
Draco swallowed. “Sign it.”
Hermione placed her curly scrawl next to Draco’s own signature and folded up the document again.
“Should we put it inside with the rest, then I’ll lock it and give you the key.” Draco asked.
“I have a better idea. Give me the key.” Hermione set the old brass key on top of the document and took out her wand. “I saw my dad do this with something once.” She raised her wand and cast the spell, and the letter dissolved into the key, just like Snape’s letter had dissolved into her blood stone. She picked up the key, locked the trunk, shrunk the key magically, and slid it onto the same necklace as the stone from her father.
“Where has it gone?”
“It’s in the key, that way it will always be with me if I need it.”
Draco reached his hand out and touched the red stone on the necklace, then he let it fall against her chest again. “That has strong magic in it, very strong. I’ve felt it before. It doesn’t like me, it’s trying to repel me.”
Hermione laughed a little at Draco’s serious expression. “Don’t worry about it. My Dad made it for me, it’s a strong protection spell, it’s supposed to stop me from getting hurt. But it wouldn’t surprise me if dad’s idea of protection also included you not touching me.”
Draco smiled a little. “That makes sense. It’s worth it if it will keep you safe, though it’s a bit unnerving. It’s trying to ward me off, like he’s behind my back, staring at me reproachfully.”
Hermione took Draco’s hand and stood up. “We should get going. Everyone else will be getting up soon.”
They moved the chest back behind the statue, covered it again with the mountain of socks, and Hermione took Draco’s and began leading them out. Draco began to slow and came to a stop. He pulled Hermione’s hand so she’d face him.
“There’s something else.” Draco muttered.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m doing all of this because I’ve made a choice.” Draco looked Hermione in the eyes. “I’m going to tell them when I get home that I can’t do it anymore.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I don’t know, that it’s too hard, I’m too young, my magic isn’t strong enough. But just in case I-“
Hermione cut in. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. This is for the best, everything will work out.”
“I want you to know everything before I go home.” Draco said. “I want you to have this stuff, and that letter, and know the truth about everything.”
“I already know the truth, don’t I?” Hermione reached up and stroked his cheek. He wrapped her fingers in his and brought her hand back down.
“Probably, I don’t know, but I need to say it out loud.” He inhaled. “I love you, Hermione. I have for a long time now. You’re the most important thing in my life. If I could, I’d spend my whole life loving you and keeping you safe and making you happy.”
Hermione stared at him, mouth gaping. Her hands fell from his grasp and landed at her sides.
Draco looked down at the ground and grasped his own hands. “It’s alright, Hermione, I know you don’t love me. You love Ron. But you care about me at least, and that’s enough for me. I just needed to say it, in case something happens while I’m gone.”
“It’s true that I’m in love with Ron.” Hermione whispered. “I have been since first year and I don’t think that will ever change. But, Draco, that doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about anyone else.” She took his hand and held it with both of hers. Draco looked up and saw her eyes welling with tears. “Those days at the cottage, and under the stars, when you held me, when you kissed me, I might have – but all of that seems like another time, a different life.”
“Maybe in another life, then.” Draco said.
He pulled his hand from Hermione’s grasp and turned to go. But then she took the back of his neck in her hands and pulled him down to her. Their lips met and Draco hugged her as closely as he could. Neither wanted to let go, neither wanted to stop. It was like their first kiss and their last at once. There was enough heat to fill up an entire lifetime, some alternate world where they could have been happy. Finally, Hermione let her hands slip from Draco’s neck and he leaned his forehead against hers, panting.
“Be safe, Draco. Be as safe as you can.”
“I have to do it.” He whispered. “I have to try.”
“I know.” Hermione had begun to cry again, and Draco kissed her wet cheeks.
They left the room of requirements and moved in opposite directions, like nothing had happened, neither looking back. Hermione came down to the great hall for breakfast, then grabbed her bag to take home on the train.