Memory Lane

Chapter 28

Back into harsh Occlumency practise at work the next day. I've managed to box up my kicked-puffskein feelings and shove them to the side. Yes; I'm remorseful, incredibly so. But wallowing in misery the way I've been isn't going to help anyone, least of all Granger.

Granger will forgive me or she won't. She probably won't - almost certainly won't - so I need to accept that. Accept that she's not for me and move on with my life. The self-pity needs to go. I fucked it all up worse than I'd have ever imagined doing, and all I can do now is learn from it. Never do anything like it again.

That's how I'll honour the time I spent with Granger, those precious

(stolen)

hours she'd have never voluntarily dedicated to Draco Malfoy.

I tell Blaise to clear his calendar after work and he gives me a droll look. He had no other plans.

He is, quite rightly, curious about how my recent evenings have been spent. I've been fleeing the office as if my arse was on fire for two solid weeks, nearly three, to work on the scar potion that I still haven't named.

We're supposed to go for a pint tomorrow but I wind up catching Blaise up rather thoroughly on our sojourn to the park to meet Severus. He's flabbergasted at what I managed, which I brush off as a matter of course.

"You were always the brightest in the house, Drake," he says in awe, shaking his head.

Yes, maybe, but not the brightest. And certainly not bright enough to have avoided the particular catastrophe we've found ourselves in. I don't feel particularly bright.

Dolohov lifts a hand to us from across the lobby as we stride in and I do my best to look amiable. Nothing to see here.

And really, we should be here more often. My - our - extreme presence while Granger and Ginny were here and our subsequent complete abandonment of the park speaks volumes. I've been writing it off as the park being financially stable once more, no longer of great concern, but I can't help feeling a level of distraction in the air. Maybe Dolohov isn't paying much attention.

If he isn't, what is he paying attention to?

Something we should be too, I figure, remembering my feeling last time I was here with Severus. Too many things were slipping by me and I'd vowed to be more alert. Then my focus had centred wholly on the potion-making I was doing. That did yield something great, to be sure; but I've been just as oblivious to the larger workings of things as I was a month ago.

Not good, and I'm not disappointed when Snape shoos us into a conference room and wards the door.

He begins by tossing me a small pouch that clinks as it settles in my hands. My time-lengthening potion samples. Excellent. I tuck them into my robes and settle into a chair expectantly.

"Zabini, I hope you're comfortable in the thick of this, because you're in it," Snape gravells out, and Blaise gives a solemn nod.

"Any word on Ginny?" he asks quietly and Snape hesitates.

"Some," he admits. "But nothing concrete. Ginny and the core of the Resistance are gathered outside Dunrobin, as I said to you weeks ago, Draco. They are enmeshed into the small local communities through Polyjuice, observing the castle and planning. Evidently, Weasley - Ron - has quite a penchant for Wizard's Chess. Did either of you know?"

We both look at one another in general surprise and Snape goes on. "Evidently, he's quite their strategist."

"How much does he remember?" I ask next and Snape see-saws a hand.