He watched as she stood unflinching in front of him even as his wand pointed at her heart. Her eyes were blank and steady and looked past that the thin piece of wood and into his eyes. She looked past her death at him.

"Why aren't you afraid?" He asked his voice softer then he wanted, vulnerable and confused. She seemed merely perplexed for a moment by the question, a crinkle forming on her brow above her nose. But suddenly the slightly dazed expression left her eyes and her mouth softened, a small dimple forming on her right cheek.

"I suppose for the fact that I have very little to live for anymore, that once you perform that curse I will have nothing to live for anymore." She said her reply cryptic. If she was dead then of course she had nothing to live for. What was she trying to say? Did she even understand her own words now or was her brain helplessly addled from the torture she had endured -- as unflinchingly as she know looked upon him – was she gone, lost in the painless of void of insanity? He felt a twinge in his chest, an almost regret. As a Slytherin he had always valued intelligence, even more so when combined with the cunning his house was known for, and on many occasions he had seen her show copious amounts of both.

He had always thought how much of a waste it was. To have the two pure qualities trapped within such a filthy shell. Had seen her pride in herself, in her qualities and her heritage as some grand insult to him, to his house, and everything they stood for.

He had hated her pride in the pure and the dirty. He had hated her.

But now he watched that blank look in her eyes and felt these twinges of an emotion besides hate. This regret for the loss of the pure and the dirty and he hated himself in that moment as well.

"Are you even there anymore?"

He was startled out of his thoughts by her voice which contained a volume of determination that immediately contradicted the blankness of her eyes. Eyes are windows to the soul. He gaped at her for a moment as the question that had been forming in his mind came out of her mouth.

"Of course I'm here," He scoffed watching as her brow crinkled in a distinctly different way.

"No," She said slowly drawing out that one syllable excruciatingly long, "I don't believe you are." He glared at her, the remnants of his anger surfacing once more.

"What do you know?" He hissed angrily. "You're only a filthy Mudblood." He added out of spite. He was disconcerted by her lack of response, the word that once caused her to fly into fury making her mouth twitch into something that resembled a smirk.

"You once told me," She said once again drawing out her words, indecisive yet confident. "That there was no separation between the pure and filthy, that you thought perhaps it was like the idea of good and evil; two comforting terms that allowed us to box the world in. You said it was how people survived by containing everything." She moved eyes from his eyes to his arm and almost felt his mark burn beneath her gaze. "Black and White; Good and Evil; Pure and Filthy." His face scrunched in confusion she had obviously gone quite mad, for one he had never spoken to her besides the regular insults, and for a second he did not remember ever thinking that at all.

A twinge flitted through his body once more; he repeated her words recognizing the source of this twinge.

Good and Evil.

"But I don't expect you to remember Draco," He recoiled as his given name rolled off her tongue so naturally, a shiver of something, (disgust?) rolled up his spine. "No one can resist Obliviation."

"What did you say?" He asked angrily incensed even as he knew he heard her words correctly. Obliviation, it echoed in his mind rebounding back and forth behind his eyes.

"Obliviation," Her voice was almost nonchalant, unconcerned but her eyes gave her away. He watched in shock as they turned from blank to anger. "Notice any gaps in time?" She queried and when he did not answer she continued. "Perhaps say you're 7th year?" He stepped back, a defensive action that made him grit his teeth.

"I didn't go back for 7th year," He said but his eyes flicked to her nervously. Another twinge rippled through his body this one indiscernible. Her eyes had darkened and he saw a battle range between anger and remorse.

"Oh they did a good job on you Draco," She whispered her voice still distant, like she still wasn't completely there. "I had hoped they would only erase me," Her words shocked him and he stepped back once more.

"Lies," He muttered his wand once more fixing on her heart, he wondered when it had dropped, "Incredible lies." He hissed shaking his head at her audacity.

"I wasn't expecting you to believe me;" She said shrugging her eyes blank once more, "I already knew that I would die by your hand, even as you promised it would not happen." He narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

"I don't know why you are making this up-"

"I am telling you," She stressed that one word, "because I love you and once I die there will be no reminders that you loved me back as well." His mouth widened, the torture had definitely taken its toll he was about to speak but she continued. "Have you not felt whole—more so then you have ever before--- yet felt that ache of emptiness of something missing?" She questioned and her eyes showed that remorse as her brow crinkled in confusion. He made to speak once more and swallowed wetting his dry throat.

He did not want to know how she knew that, the strange feeling that had appeared one morning that life was complete yet at the same time missing something, a desperate ache in his chest. How he had questioned what had happened, what had changed when everything appeared to be the same.

"You're lying," He said quietly and his voice gave away his indecisiveness, His inability to truly believe what he had just said.

"I have never lied to you Draco," She said her eyes solemn and he was distinctly reminded of Albus Dumbledore, another twinge as he saw a brilliant flash of light and a distant sob. He blinked looking around to find nothing, just the two of them standing in the courtyard. "But now it is time for you to kill me," She said and it had an order to it.

"Why do you want to die?" He asked phrasing his first question differently. She studied him her face taking in his features, trailing over his cheeks and nose to settle on his lips before following the column of his throat.

"I believe I could have lived with Harry and Ron gone," He looked on in shock as she said this so dispassionately. Those two boys had been her life and now she didn't care that they had died? "But, once I loved you and lost you once I could not stand being in a world where you didn't remember our love." She finished and one sad lonely tear dripped down her face. He didn't know what to say so he remained silent, "I decided that I would rather you kill me, and break your promise then you see you break your other promise." He stared at her for a moment waiting.

"What did I promise?" He asked wondering if he was humoring and not being able to answer himself.

"You promised to not kill me no matter what the Prophecy said," She paused for a moment and continued her voice choked slightly, "And then you promised to love me forever and one cannot promise what one has never felt." She whispered, "And I thank the gods that you can't remember ---that you don't feel---because I know you would've died instead."

He watched the air weighing heavily upon him and he glanced at her eyes once more.

"Here I want you to have this," She drew something out of her robes, a small envelope, it's rectangular shape slightly distorted by an irregular bump, "And if one day you wonder why you are cursed to be whole yet empty, you can open it to get the answer." He reached his hand out and she placed it in his palm, yet grasped it tightly when he made to pull it away, "I believe that it might just kill you though." She said, "Do it Draco." Her voice was harsh now and he saw her body tense, her back straightening and giving her the illusion of looking down her nose at him, "I won't let you break that second promise while I still live." His wand moved from her heart to her forehead and he wondered at the change even as a smile flashed across her face. It melted the blankness in her eyes.

He focused for a moment drawing on his hate in order to perform the curse that would make her eyes permanently blank.

He thought of the pure trapped inside the filthy shell.

He thought of her unfounded pride.

He did not think of her eyes, and the way she stood unflinching before him.

"Avada Kedavra," He whispered the curse for the first time and the flash of green blinded him momentarily. He blinked away the spots to see her lying still on the ground; he tucked the envelope into his robes before turning and walking away.

He did not glance at her blank eyes, seeing them once was painful enough.

The girl lay on the ground her head twisted on her neck her eyes looking where the boy had stood. The brown orbs were blank and as the sun shone from behind the clouds, unshed tears blinked balefully.

Years from that day as Draco walked gray and aged down the halls of his mansion, leaving his wife and child at the table, he couldn't help but sense of being whole yet empty, that something was missing. He reached the end of the hallway and began to climb the stairs, arthritic bones screaming in protest, his teeth gritting in pain.

He wondered why he remembered this now.

He reached the top and opened the door stepping into the dusty attic, moving aside cobwebs as he headed for a chest beneath a window, small lines of sunshine illuminating it beautifully. He unlocked it with a wave of his hand and slowly bent to push open the top. He riffled through the paper before his hand finally clasping on a old envelope a slight bump protruding in it, he flipped it over listening to the crinkle and taking in the yellow tint it had taken with age.

"Seems I'm not the only one to grow old," He whispered chuckling darkly to himself. His finger moved beneath the flap hesitating for a moment a long gone voice echoing through his head, rebounding behind his eyes.

I believe that it might just kill you

He snorted derisively before wrenching his wrinkle finger and dislodging the ancient glue and reaching inside, fingering the bump inside the envelope and noting in shock that it was made of a cool metal. He moved to a seat sinking into slowly respecting his old body, he took a deep breath suddenly nervous before dumping the contents onto his lap.

He noticed first that the metal bump was a ring, the other contents were a folded piece of parchment and shiny type of paper that hinted at a photograph. He picked up the ring first squinting to make out the details and sitting back in shock as he made them out.

It was the ring his father had given him when he placed in Slytherin.

He had thought he lost it, couldn't remember when he had displaced it. He oddly realized now that the loss of this heirloom was not mentioned by his father, that it had not incurred his wrath. With shaking hands he slid it onto his finger over the knobs of his joints swollen with arthritis and was pleased when it fit like the day it was given to him.

He wondered how in the hell, the girl who had given him the envelope had come by it. How he had been stupid enough to part with it. He reached next for the letter uneasy at the familiarity of the neat handwriting he was sure he had never seen before.

Dear Draco,

If you are reading this I am dead and you don't remember your 7th year. Right now I am sure you are scowling at my apparent 'lie' (it was rather disconcerting because that was what he had done at that moment). And I feel that there is no other but the blunt truth and that hopefully it will come back to you. My name is Hermione Granger and we loved each other once. You do not remember this or you any of you seventh year for a fact --most likely if my fears are correct—and this is because you were Obliviated by your father and Voldemort (he cringed in remembrance at that name) and please don't cringe you are so much stronger than that. You're memory was erased to keep you from turning to the Light side and abandoning your family. And you feel whole yet empty because I am not there. You may not remember but I do and your words stick with me still even as I write these words before the final battle. I remember when you first told me you loved me, removing your ring and sliding it onto my finger. You said that you didn't have a promise ring handy but that you would still love me forever and you weren't even afraid at your father's anger over the loss of a family heirloom. I remember when we heard that Prophecy that said you would kill me and you swore that it would never happen that you would never kill me. Even now the night before the battle as I realize that I will fall by your hand, I do not feel sad and I do not want you to feel guilt. Because even as I love you, as I will forever, I know that you aren't there. That the love buried in your heart and the recesses of your mind remains but that a crucial part is missing, and I will never begrudge you for you actions.

He stared in confusion and suspicion before reading on.

If none of this proof enough then I will repeat a phrase you once told me was the secret Malfoy code, one that was truer then the :A Malfoy never wavers.

A Malfoy will see the world as the world is.

He gasped in shock dropping the letter his heart pounding in steady time with the beat in his skull. He groaned his hand going to grasp his head. How would she know that unless he had told her? He blinding reached down grasping the paper and bringing it back to him.

I am dead now but I still love you, and shortly after you read this you will join me. I hope you are ready for the pain, which I had hoped you would never feel but it seems to be our fate.

Love,

Hermione

P.S. This is my favorite photograph of us, taken at the graduation ball.

He shook his head, hand automatically reaching for the shiny paper and without looking he flipped it over. He prepared himself before looking down.

He saw himself dressed in formal attire clasping a brunette to his chest, her back to the photographer. He noticed how her hand was placed above his heart and his own arm was wrapped tightly around her waist holding her to him. He watched as a happy smile formed on his younger self's face and he twirled the girl. Draco froze as he saw her face. It was the girl, it was Hermione Granger. She was looking at him eyes twinkling in adoration and he was shocked to see his younger self returning the look. He watched as he leaned down clasping her hand and kissing the ring on her finger, the ring that was now on his finger, she laughed before leaning to kiss his lips softly her mouth moving in a silent whisper.

He groaned suddenly as his head pounded in pain, the papers sliding from his hand as he stumbled to his feet. There was a brilliant flash of green.

He watched as Snape shouted the Killing Curse and Dumbledore toppled over the wall, his robes whipping behind him.

He moved forward knocking over a vase that fell to the ground shattering.

He looked at Hermione taking in her flushed face, and grabbed her arm drawing him against his body her struggles weak. He leaned pressing his lips against hers hungrily and felt a passion fill his every vein, every muscle; she tensed before returning his attentions.

He scrunched his eyes against another onslaught hand reaching for something, anything.

"Hermione," he whispered his hand brushing a few locks of hair out of her eyes. He marveled how beautiful her pale skin was against the forest green sheets of his bed. Her eyes fluttered open sleepily and she smiled slowly.

"Draco," She said in response moving to prop herself up on her elbows allowing him a flash of skin that made him smirk and her scowl at him.

"I love you," He murmured quietly watching happily as her eyes widened her mouth forming an almost pout like 'O' of surprise.

"Oh Draco," She whispered before taking his hand in hers and placing it against her cheek. He felt moisture as a tear dripped down to wet his skin, "It seems like I've waited forever for you to say that," She said her voice and face radiantly happy. He watched her eyes overflowing with so many wonderful emotions.

"Well was it worth the wait?" He asked coolly smirking at her and she rolled her eyes.

"It was worth every second in every day," She said moving to press against his equally bare chest, running her lips over his jaw, "Every second of my life." She murmured before placing her lips on his. He pulled away slowly unwilling to give up that feeling that rushed through his body whenever they kissed.

"I want you to have this," He said slipping the ring off his finger and taking hers trying not to squirm beneath her disbelieving gaze as he slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand. Right where an engagement ring should be, he thought. "I don't have a promise ring handy," He took a deep breath, "But—but I hope this will show you that I will love you forever, that I promise-" His traitorous voice cracked showing the emotions boiling inside him, "that I will love you forever." Her eyes were wide still from shock.

"But Draco won't your father-" He cut her off by placing a finger on her lips unable to resist stroking them with his thumb watching her eyes slip shut at his gentle touch.

"I don't care if my father disembowels me for losing this heirloom," He said seriously watching her eyes snap open at the though of what his father might do, "There is no one more worthy to wear this ring on their finger than you. Now I don't want you to argue I just want to say 'Thank you Draco, I love you' and be done with it," He grinned at her petulant frown.

"Fine," She breathed yet her eyes took on a sly quality, "Thank you Draco, I love you—you great prat," She said adding that at the end and giggling at his dark look.

"I don't believe that's what I asked you to say," He said coldly but she continued giggling unaffected by his tone.

"What cha gunna do about it?" She asked impishly grinning at him. She shrieked as he pounced on her pinning her to the bed.

"The question my dear Hermione is what aren't I going to do about it?" He whispered his voice husky and she stuck her tongue out at him.

He came back to reality toppling forward and slamming his shoulder into a wardrobe, feeling pain shoot through his old bones.

"I hate you Draco Malfoy!" Hermione shouted tears mingling with the pouring rain, "You think you're so bloody pure but I know better! I feel how you are when you kiss me," Her face twisted into a mask of hatred, "I know what you've been thinking, what you've been imagining doing with the Mudblood," He flinched from the word. "What would your Pureblood friends say if they knew that you were lusting after the filthy Hermione Granger," He stepped forward quickly grasping her wrists firmly but gently and he pulled her struggling body to him.

"I'm sorry Hermione," He whispered and he felt his heart shattering to pieces in his chest.

"I hate you," She muttered.

"There is no pure or filthy." He whispered and he felt her tense against him. "I was wrong and stupid, so stupid," He muttered burying his face in her hair. "God I was so bloody foolish." He felt her body shaking against him and he closed his eyes trying to block out this immense pain he felt feeling her cry. "A Malfoy will see the world as the world is. That's out secret motto and I was too goddamned idiotic to even try to see. Will you ever forgive me Hermione?" He asked feeling her still against him slightly.

"I hope," He heard her murmur and that was enough to make him feel worth living that little seed of optimism that she would be able to forgive him.

"Yes, I hope too."

His head pounded and his vision was clouding as the stark realization hit him.

He had been Obliviated and so many more memories rushed before his eyes. He cursed his father, he cursed Voldemort even though they long dead in the ground. Yet he cursed himself finally most of all. He understood the enormity of his actions and he sunk to the ground his head and heart pulsing in a frantic beat.

He had killed the woman he loved. He promised not to and she stood there and accepted it telling him that he was blameless and she loved him.

He had promised to love her forever and he had forgotten her.

A quiet sob escaped his mouth and an old gnarled hand went to cover the offending body part. But the sound roiled forth unstoppable and he felt salty tears run down his skin, winding rivers through the valleys of age on his face.

He felt not more whole. He felt no emptier. He let his head fall back his breathes coming in gasps, as his eyes slid shut.

She had died in the attempt to keep him from breaking his second promise; one that she knew would kill him to break. She had died hoping that he would not remember their love and so that promise would be gone.

'…one cannot promise what one has never felt' She had meant to leave him blameless; she had loved him enough to die to ease his guilt.

But the guilt would not leave, he groaned as pain shot through his chest and head.

He had been cursed to feel whole at the fact that he had experienced great love, yet empty at the fact that he could not remember that love. Hermione said he would surely die when he realized, what he had lost, his broken promises, her blood still wet upon his hands.

He couldn't help but feel that it was just repayment.

Draco Malfoy's body slumped to the ground, his chin resting on his chest, eyes closed and face in an open peaceful expression. They wouldn't find his body for days, and so he remained unknowingly clasping a photograph to his heart.

"Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose."

Kevin Arnold

A/N: I hope you like this, even if it was rushed and bound to have perhaps a billion errors in it. But I had this idea and thought I am not really satisfied with the turn out, I like the basis which is the love between Hermione and Draco that he forgets due to the Obliviation ( totally not a really word) and then how he kills her not remembering anything. Then years later when he realizes he dies of a broken heart. I hope I got that part out there. I might just take this idea and write another fic but I think that just might be impossible. Well tell me your thoughts- about the story not the grammar! I already know it's atrocious and I am working on that loves. Anyhoo review.

Your very-tired-for-staying-up-till-3:30-to-frantically-type- this-story author,

Wonderwall