The Book for Lost Memories

Chapter 1

"What are you doing here?" A venomous voice called out, sounding loud in the cramped space.

Hermione swiveled her head but didn't break stride as they continued down a decrepit side street of Knockturn Alley. This was not an ideal time for Hermione to be recognized and stopped, as her plans were to stay in this part of Knockturn Alley for as little as possible. As her eyes adjusted to the shadowed shape leering behind her, Hermione could not help but think: Of course.

Draco Malfoy.

Her insides shuttered at the thought of sharing this cramped alley space with Malfoy. Although, truth be told, Hermione felt it difficult to share any space with any person. Ever since their victory at Hogwarts castle defeating Voldemort, Hermione has felt hollow. Getting out of bed feels like a struggle, being near Harry or Ron now seemed like an impossibility. It just felt too real. Remembering their time on the run, camping, Ron leaving, the fight.

The deaths. Hermione's mind played all of those deaths on repeat, over and over. Hermione swallowed and shook her head, hoping that would clear the thoughts away.

"I said mudblood, what do you think you are doing, walking around this part?" Draco sneered. Or tried too at least. Against her better judgement, Hermione stepped toward the dark, where the outline of Malfoy was barely detectable. Malfoy looked different. The superior look still rested on his face, as if he were still someone worth thinking highly of. Yet his cheeks seemed hollower, his lean figure looking a bit gaunt. His usually impeccably tailored cloak a bit ragged toward the bottom, as if it had not been repaired in sometime.

Hermione could not help having a physical reaction, being this close to Malfoy. Hermione gritted her teeth, trying to shake away the years old feeling. Hermione could not quite define the feeling, other than an uncomfortable something. A quickness of heart rate. A slight intake of breath. Hermione rationalized whatever this feeling is, it's nothing like what they felt for Viktor Krum, in their fourth year. The young first flutter of possibility of a feeling adjacent to love. And this feeling was absolutely nowhere near what she felt for Ron, although thinking of Ron now leaves Hermione with a deep ache that they do not want to think long on.

But this, whatever this was, feels ridiculous. Hermione knows who Malfoy his. He is a weak, selfish boy, hanging on the coat tails of a name that used to mean something to the worst kind of people. Hermione knows that in Malfoy's mind, there is nothing worse than a person like Hermione. Someone who exceled at Hogwarts not because of who their parents were, but because of their own talent. Hermione can recognize all of these things. And yet.

Any yet. This damned feeling bubbles up inside Hermione. She shoves it down, along with everything else.

"Oh, it's you." Hermione huffed, as she rocked back on their heels and turned to leave.

"I am shocked. This might be a first for Granger." Malfoy said, a laugh in his voice.

"And what's that?"

"The first time you have ever left a question unanswered. I didn't not a know-it-all like you could withstand something like that."

Hermione felt anger bubble up. It felt good, better than the hollow emptiness that pervaded Hermione's every waking moment.

Without deigning to answer, Hermione mumbled something under her breath and flicked her hand that held her wand and kept on walking. She heard a high-pitched yelp escape from Malfoy behind her and couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. It was the first smile she has had in a long time.

"What do you mean you don't have Lost Minds: Through the Dark Arts?"

"I'm saying exactly what I mean." The bookseller stated, sniffing loudly, clearly annoyed by Hermione's question.