The recovery time objective (RTO) is the targeted duration of time and a service level within which a business process must be restored after a disaster (or disruption) in order to avoid unacceptable consequences associated with a break in business continuity.

. . .

"Hermione. Now, where have I heard that name before? It's lovely dear-"

"It's my name, my mother gave it to me."

"Oh? Well, she has good taste."

Hermione's eyes began to well up, "Yes, yes she does. Well, I have to get going but, no doubt I will see you again."

"Yes, well it's not so bad, having our mail get mixed with yours. Sometimes I feel like a stranger in this neighborhood. Perhaps my husband will be here next time you visit."

"Yes, that would be lovely, have a good day."

"You too, dear!"

Hermione pulled on her coat as she walked out of her parent's house, quickly smearing a tear from her cheek. After she gently shut the door, she paused, looking up to see a single snowflake floating down. In a weary gaze, she watched it fall and vanish into the cement. She took a moment to herself, reluctant to leave the front steps of her childhood home. Closing her eyes to focus only caused another cool tear to trickle down her cheek. Hermione exhaled and wiped her face again while scanning the neighborhood to make sure it was clear, and Disapparated.

When she arrived at her flat, she poured herself a glass of wine and eased onto her bed next to a box of photographs. Staring at the ones of her parents, she brought the glass of red wine to her lips and paused. Overwhelmed with guilt, she began to cry again, her body shaking. The sobs quickly turned into a sharp scream, and she violently chucked the glass of wine against the wall. Becoming numb, she stared lifelessly at the drips that crept down the wall until it reached the bottom.

. . .

In the morning, there was a usual bustle at the Ministry of Magic as everyone settled to their departments.

Hermione sleepily held a book under her nose as she walked through the Ministry's main floor. After last night, she wanted to lay low, bury her head into work and avoid any meetings if she could help it. She raised her book just slightly as she passed someone she might recognize, irritated that no spell could tone down the bags under her eyes.

Today she would take advantage of a lift toward the back area of the building, rarely used due to its distance. Glancing up to see if anyone were near, hoping for privacy, she nearly tripped, kicking a hard object. When she looked down to see, it had skidded across the floor and under a doorway.

Pausing, looking to see if anyone had noticed her blunder, she wished she knew what it was so at least she could accio it back to where it belonged. There did not appear to be anything out of sorts, so she continued on, pausing at the gates of the lift.

To her dismay, she could hear the rise of chatter approaching her from behind. She pinched her face for their so-called intrusion and when the lift gates slid opened she quickly stepped as far as she could into the corner, focusing back on her book. A few witches carrying on about their weekend joined, gratefully too engaged to acknowledge her. Possibly due to her impatience, she internally chastised the lift gates for taking so long to close.

Once it finally closed, she made several attempts to read the sentences in her book, never able to fully obtain anything, circling back to try again.

As the lift gave a usual jolt, Hermione grabbed a handle above her for balance. Then it stopped abruptly, and the bantering witches exited, their voices fading as they departed. It was short lived, as other colleagues had entered, and she gave a polite nod to some that she recognized then quickly looked down to continue staring at the white lines between the sentences. As she shifted to allow others to move in, she stepped backwards and bumped into someone. "Oh, sorr-"

As she politely glanced up from her book, she curtly stopped when she saw who it was.

"Granger..."

Appearing too busy for any further courtesy, especially toward him, she grumbled, "Malfoy..."

The lift jolted again as it tunneled throughout the cavities of the Ministry, and having moved, she misplaced her reach for a handle, causing her to fall backward.

Though there were others in the lift, it was Draco who caught her before she fell. In no time, she shot out of his arms and she quickly found her balance. When she glanced back to him, he was already peering back at her, she guessed he thought he was some hero, and she deliberately did not thank him. Turning back to dismiss him, she glanced at another male coworker who looked as if he could sense the tension.

As a result, the wizard was all too hasty to get off at the next stop, and Hermione's body sulked when she realized that they were now alone. With everyone else gone, the space in the lift felt smaller. She stood stiffly, hoping that the focus on her book would make the time go quicker.

Malfoy crossed his arms, then leaned against a wall, which might have caused a loud metal ping noise and a short shaking from the lift. The lights flickered twice, and then it went dark.

Hermione gasped, while Malfoy grumbled, "Bloody hell..."

They waited in silence in the darkened lift, assuming that the glitch would magically work itself out, but instead, the moment grew longer and longer. Hermione finally took out her wand, "Lumos."

She pointed her wand to the walls and then to the floor as if she could discover the issue. Eventually, the glow illuminated Malfoy, leaning against the back wall, his eyes wincing at the light. "Well Granger, got any spells up your cloak for this one?"

She sighed, "No Malfoy, I am not a mechanic, or... whoever actually fixes lifts around here..."

"Felix."

"Sorry?"

"That would be Felix, Ministry Mechanic."

She tilted her head, not sure if he actually knew or was possibly joking. "Well, in the Muggle world, there would be an emergency button but-"

"But not Ministry lifts, they're perfect… obviously."

She gave a short snort forgetting herself but quickly cleared her throat, recognizing it's soreness from crying. Then, she suddenly remembered what she might have knocked over. "Oh..."

Malfoy sat up, "What, do you see something?"

"No... I ran into something before I got in and…" She paused, turning the light away from Malfoy. "It could have been a warning sign for the lift."

"Seriously Granger? You mean you put us all in danger-"

She turned back abruptly, "It was an accident, I was reading and-"

Malfoy mumbled looking away, "Always bloody reading..."

Hermione was not about to take this from him, not today, "Look Malfoy, it was an accident, I didn't get a lot of sleep and-"

"Please, spare me, Granger."

"I'm sorry, alright? You've done worse!"

Her shrill rebuttal echoed throughout the lift, and she was slightly surprised he did not argue back. Hermione wondered if there was an actual measurement on how deafening silence could be and at what chart breaking level the two of them had reached.

Initially satisfied that she had won their little battle, she turned away with her wand, and he remained in the dark behind her. Her victory did not last long, because for every second that had lapsed, there was a sinking feeling in her gut for taking a vicious stab at his past. Attempting to make it go away she reasoned, Why would I feel bad about insulting Malfoy? Though her conscience was pestering her at every logical outcome.

After what felt like ten mins of their heavy lull, Hermione decided to rebelliously sit down. She opened her book and pointed her wand to the pages, once again attempting to read, but only really staring at the letters inside of the words. Eventually, those letters began to blur and slightly wiggle. She knew what that meant after years and years of reading late at night, she was near sleep.

She blinked and glanced through the corner of her eye towards Malfoy when he had also decided to sit down, her light only just reaching the tips of his leather brown dress shoes. Her drowsy thoughts ended up with the curiosity of where he had purchased them. She had always secretly admired his style, perhaps they were custom made, her sleepy mind queried.

Draco eyed her from the dark where he sat. The glow from her wand highlighted the book along with the outline of her face. With nothing else to do, he noticed her eyelids fluttering, becoming drowsier by the minute. After only moments, her wand settled into the crease of her book and then they both slid down her lap. She was clearly falling asleep, and he considered waking her, until her head began to edge forward.

Hesitating, on what he should do; allow her to fall, or wake her up, he decided the latter would be less embarrassing for her. He shifted closer to her, prepared to nudge her to wake, but she began to lay her head sideways onto his shoulder.

Shocked, Draco raised his eyebrows from her move but remained still. He guessed she would be fully annoyed, finding herself this close, using him to rest. Taking a second to think, he tried to relax with Granger's head heavy on his shoulder, her breathing steady and soft.

Draco began to wonder why she had appeared so tired, enough so to miss a lift warning, and to fall asleep on an adversary such as him. His confusion faded as the warmth of her body began to sink further against his, he found comfort in it. In this small dark space with her at his side, he felt a sort of solitude. He closed his eyes, honing in on the feeling. When was the last time I was this close with someone?

He was an outcast in the Wizarding community after the war, as she had so graciously reminded him after he had caught her fall. Granger was usually more professional, and though they bickered in meetings, they only gave each other passing glances to avoid further confrontation. He had to make an attempt to be pleasant, otherwise he would not go far. After all, he could no longer ride his father's coat tails, at least not from Azkaban.

As he adjusted himself, raising his knees so his arm could rest, she began to twitch. He paused, noticing that she was slumping forward, so he reached out to catch her. Instead, her head slowly slid down his chest, and he moved his legs as she continued to fall upon his lap.

Her wand was now covered by the fallen book, but the glow of light streamed through the pages had given her a softer illuminated her face.

Draco kept his hands slightly raised, not knowing what to do with them as the witch on his lap appeared to be curling up to use him as a pillow.

He looked down, she was relaxed and appeared younger in her slumber. She wore less makeup than most witches in the ministry. Draco appreciated that about her, it reflected her clean and honest personality, she wouldn't need it anyway. He nearly dropped his hands by his side but instead, placed one on her shoulder and the other near the top of her head. Relieved that she did not move or retaliate, he felt as if he was guarding her, though he hardly knew from what.

Having this moment to contemplate this feeling, it filled him in a way he had never had before. This idea of protecting someone for once.

He rested the back of his head against the lift wall, every so often glancing down at her, reminding him of the unbelievable position he was in.

Listening to her breathing, caused him to become drowsy as well and closed his eyes until he heard her mumbling. He looked down to confirm, she was talking, is she speaking to me? He continued to listen to her nearly incoherent words.

"... they don't remember, and I can't- I tried, no one has time to help-"

Hermione's words faded, then it was quiet again. Draco lowered his eyebrows, try to decipher the meaning, all the while reflecting on people who talked in their sleep.

Some of his old schoolmates at Hogwarts mumbled as they slept, but not him, and he made sure of it. Relentlessly aware of where he was at every moment. The depth of his paranoia had gotten the best of him in those last years. To be sure, he would ask if anyone had ever heard him talking in his sleep, but they would all say no. He deflected the point whenever they queried on why he kept asking this.

The true answer being that he had secrets that he needed to keep, far from everyone. Even if he had ever managed to reach a deep sleep, he learned never allow those secrets to surface. He became so good at it, that it only enhanced his talent for Occlumency, then Legilimency naturally followed. He glanced down to Hermione, of course, she would talk in her sleep, only the inculpable do.

Then she spoke again, "I'm not- I don't know what to do-"

Hermione's breathing began to quicken, and her hands adjusted to get more comfortable. Draco tried to keep still as she made more contact with his legs. He guessed that by her rapid breathing and body shaking that she might be crying now, confirmed by a tear streaming down her cheek. She sniffed and whispered, "I'll never get them back, it's all my fault..."

Draco, for once, did not think when he swept his hand gently across her arm in some attempt to settle her. He did not think at all, he just wanted. He wanted to imagine for a moment that he could finally have a chance to do something helpful. And as if being punished for his daring empathy, a loud cockney accent verberated from above, "Is anyone in there?"

They both flinched from the abrupt noise.

Draco looked upward to the interruption then quickly back down to Hermione, who was now waking up and drowsily wiping her eyes. He cleared his throat, to warn her of his presence, which made her breath hitch as she suddenly remembered where she was.

Hermione quickly sat up and scooted to the other side of the lift, clumsily kicking her wand and book.

As she hastily collected herself, Draco responded to the voice coming from outside of the lift, "Yes, there are two of us in here... Felix is that you?"

"Oh, Mr Malfoy! Sorry for the inconvenience, thought my sign would have kept everyone out. Will try to shorten the RTO- Blimey, that was you who taught me that!"

Draco smiled to himself, Felix was a man that he had worked with when he had a lower position at the Ministry, "Yes, Recovery Time Objective, I remember. It would be a relief if you could apply that to this particular situation..."

"Yes, sir! Wait, you said two?"

Draco was still watching Hermione from the small glow of her wand, after her abrupt move away from him. "Yes, I'm with Ms Granger."

Something about his open regard to her made him feel good. Though he quickly brushed the thought aside, as he observed Hermione's embarrassment, her head falling into her hands.

Felix responded cheerily, "Oh, lucky man! I will thank you for not attempting to fix the lift yourselves. One poor wizard attempted such a thing and ended up- well, worse than a splinch if you can imagine… Right, let me just-"

Draco was about to respond, but the lights flickered back on, and the lift started to move again. As he began to stand, he glanced to Hermione, who had appeared mortified as she straightened out her clothes, gathering her wand and book. Placing his hands in his pockets, he shifted sideways, as if to give her a moment of privacy.

Draco peeked over to see her attempting to tame her hair one-handed. Then she stiffly held her book close to her chest, staring at the door, anxiously waiting for it to open.

The lift slowed to a stop and once it opened, she quickly took the first steps to leave.

As she crossed the threshold, he chimed, "I can help…"

Hermione stopped abruptly, and he continued, "Help them remember… you know, if you're interested."

Hermione kept forward bowing her head slightly and then without further response, walked away.

Draco casually paced out of the lift, unsure if she had taken him seriously. Perhaps she was not ready, or embarrassed that he knew anything at all. Pausing, he stood there looking around the Ministry. He was back on the first floor, and he struggled to collect the amount of time that had actually passed while in the broken lift.

He observed people busily walking by, chatting amongst work friends, none of which were his. It was only then, after exiting the contained space of the lift, that he was hit with a wave of claustrophobia.

. . .

A few days passed since Draco had encountered Hermione, currently busy conducting routine tests for potions used at a crime scene. He paused to hear a gentle tapping on the lab door. Unprepared for any visitors, he quickly pulled off his protective goggles when he saw that it was Hermione.

She stepped in, wearing a green blouse, and he noted that it went well with the hints of auburn in her wavy hair. He suspected that she wore it strategically, never recalling her wearing green before, and never entering the lower levels to the Ministry labs.

He self consciously glanced around the area, not expecting company, hoping that it was not a dump of a mess. This had been his space, it was like a second home to him. It was decent enough, he internally resolved, he turned back around to emit an air of focus, ignoring how stunning she looked in a tight pencil skirt.

The click of her heels on the marble floor grew closer, and when they stopped, there was an envelope at the edge of his lab table. It was a sealed investigation packet, to keep evidence free of outside contamination.

"Here is another for case G616."

He glanced down at the packet briefly, "Your assistant off today?"

Draco leaned in to view a sample potion through a microscope, never looking up at her, as she replied,

"No, he's here… probably, on break..."

Impatiently, Draco sat back, and turned fully to face her. He crossed his arms, waiting for her explanation as to why, for the first time ever, she delivered it instead.

Hermione avoided his stare, focusing on the lab table for a second, then she exhaled, "Okay, I was wondering-"

"I'll do it, just tell me when and where."

Draco quickly turned back to his work, as if to imply that her request was not as big as she might be building it up to be.

"Okay… here." She slid a folded note onto the table. "Malfoy-"

"It's nothing Granger. I've done worse, right?"

He sensed her staring, but he refused to look back up at her. Finally she quietly replied, "Okay… I'll see you then."

. . .

Later that night, a quick pop noise signified Draco's Apparation onto a quiet Muggle street, in the middle of a cold night. He looked around, adjusting the collar of his long double-breasted dark green wool coat. Though he had read Granger's note so many times, he looked at it again to confirm the address that matched the house in front of him. He exhaled heavily, unable to hide the warm swirl of breath that mingled into the cool air.

"Hi."

He abruptly turned to see Hermione waiting on the sidewalk. In the dark, she was a mere silhouette of a figure, but he imagined she was wearing her navy blue coat and her red scarf that she favored. She stepped up to him, as she reached for something in her coat pocket, "I know you will see things Malfoy, I don't care."

She insisted, "I just want them back."

It was his turn to enter her home, and he wondered how she felt about that.

Nodding quietly, she passed him to unlock the door to the small house, then she paused, "They should be sleeping, can you still-"

Draco confidently replied, "Yes." but internally adding, I hope. He had never done this to anyone while sleeping, but he was certainly going to try.

He could sense her nerves, as she closed the door and quickly blurted,

"Okay, because if you can't, I can wait- it's just… there's a long wait at St. Mungo's you know, for reversing memory charms on Muggles, and they aren't even sure-"

"Granger… if you don't trust me..."

She paused, looking up to him, "I- I want them to remember me, Malfoy."

"I'm ready if you are, Granger."

She took in a deep breath and turned to walk into her house using her wand to lighten the space.

Following the glow of her wand, Draco could only see shadows of objects until she passed them. The house was humble compared to what he was used to. He could not help but be curious about her life here, but he guessed that he would find out soon.

As they approached a piano he wondered if she had learned to play it. The scent of her home was a sweet, almost like cinnamon, perhaps remnants from the holidays.

Hermione turned her head to look up at him, "This is their room..." She whispered, as she cautiously turned the handle.

They reached a large bed where the shadows of two people lay, sound asleep. Hermione had been staring and Draco had to nudge her to break her trance.

She gestured to her mother who was on the other side and Draco made his way over to her. He studied her in the dim light, then glanced up at Hermione across the bed, and she stood, patiently observing.

To prepare, Draco unbuttoned his coat and laid it on a nearby chair. Confidently he rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms. He took a deep breath and very carefully hovered his hands over her mother's temples. As he had never done this spell when someone was asleep, he was concerned about getting lost in their dreams, aware that an unconscious thought could be difficult to escape.

He needed to do this though, or at the very least try. Swallowing hard, keeping his hands steady, he closed his eyes and mouthed in a faint whisper, "Legilimens."

. . .

"Darling, what's wrong?"

"You won't understand, I just need time alone."

"You always tell me. Why wouldn't I understand, does it have to do with school?" Hermione nodded to her mother, tears streaming down her face.

"Well, your grades are perfect… is this about… a boy?" Hermione glanced up at her mother for the quick discovery and then looked away embarrassed.

"It's not important..."

"Well it must be if it's causing you to feel this way."

"He's just so- frustrating!"

"But you like him?" Hermione closed her eyes, another tear trickling down her cheek. She wiped it away with the stretched out sleeve of her Christmas jumper.

"He will come around, boys are not at the same level as girls at this age-"

"It's not just that, he's-... he's..." Hermione's mother pet her messy hair and gave her a kiss on the crown of her head.

"Go on, what's his name, is it Ron? Or was it Harry? Maybe you need more girlfriends… it's only your first year anyway, I'm sure you'll make more."

She shook her head and hesitated. "It doesn't matter, really..."

"Did he... do something?"

"Mum, no! Not like that!"

"Okay! I had to ask..."

"He's just- he's beautiful, and he hates me, okay? That's basically it."

"Who could hate you, darling? Honestly, Hermione, it's probably your over thinking-"

"No, he's perfect, and I'm disgusting, and he agrees… and I just wish I didn't like him but-"

"He'll come around, most boys think girls are disgusting Hermione-"

"No, it's for a different reason, Mum. It's hard to explain but, in that world, I'm… not as good."

"You mean the Magic world? But you know magic, that's why you're so special and why you're attending Hogwarts-"

"Yes, but, I'm still not… pure. I'm not a pure witch, I'm not born that way."

"I see, well, there isn't anything we can do about that… do you still want to stay there?"

"Yes..."

"Good, I think you should, even if you aren't whatever- pure. You are the best in your class, that says something right? I'm so proud of you for that, don't let any silly boy take that away from you."

Hermione nodded and whispered, "His name is Draco..."

Her mother paused, to think, "Interesting name. Well, I'm sure this Draco, will come around. You will probably look back at this moment and laugh one day. Honestly, you will! I know you don't see that now… but if this boy does not see everything that we see in you, then he probably has issues of his own. You focus on you Hermione, you're special. Just enjoy where you are and who you are with, okay?"

Hermione let out a puff of air and buried herself into her mother's arms for a hug...

. . .

Draco quickly opened his eyes, nearly gasping, abruptly moving his hands away and taking a step back. Wincing to adjust to his surroundings, he found Hermione still across the room, watching him closely. She leaned her head forward to look at him, perplexed from his reaction.

Draco's mind was scrambling to think. Was that a dream, a memory, or both? He tried to refute that he had not done that on purpose, in that, he subconsciously found a memory of himself involved. She liked me? What was worse, was his own reflection on how cruel he was, and no doubt would have mocked her for it.

As he took steps away from her mother, an overwhelming feeling of guilt and hate for himself rose inside of him. Remanence of emotions from the possible memory collected from her mother quickly overtook him; The feeling of loss, unable to help her daughter. It was mixed with a sense of jealousy that Hermione could easily expose such emotions to her parents.

He stood there, trying to compartmentalize his feelings from her mother's. There was this one emotion that stood out and he sensed that he actually shared it with her mother. His own resentment began to consume him. This memory revealed the reach of his cruelty, all the way to the safe space of her youth, her home.

He knew now, more than ever, that he owed her.

Ignoring Hermione's hissing across the bed of her sleeping parents to ask what had happened, he placed his hands over her mother's temples again, this time with more determination.

Draco's focus was more equip this time around, jumping through what he understood to be actual memories. He mentally opened doors and left them open, as if giving oxygen to an airtight room. Though he guest that it only took a few minutes, it felt like days. His head began to throb, and had to stop.

He channeled past her memories and visually stepped back into the dark room, rubbing his head for the sharp pain in the front of his mind that had begun to spread to the back.

His mind was now swirling with memories from her mother's perspective. It was heavy with compassion and other things he had never encountered before. Draco stared at the bedpost to gain focus. He reflected on the care her mother took with her as a baby or guiding her with advice, constantly expressing her pride. He was perhaps searching for something familiar to him; cruelty, regret, burden, none of which he found.

Draco's heart raced, and his breath quickened, overwhelmed at reliving her mother's memories. They were so full and genuine, not an ounce of betrayal.

He turned quickly when he felt a hand on his shoulder, it was Hermione, and she inquired softly, "Is it done? Is everything okay?"

Draco only stared at her. Hermione was suddenly a different person, and he found it even more difficult to speak to her. The confusion swept a wave of anger over him, unable to control how he had become altered in this way. He abruptly pushed past her, staggering away in the unfamiliar space and left the room.

Hermione quickly followed after him straining a whisper, "Malfoy, where are you going? What about my dad?"

But Draco, had stepped away, standing against a wall in the dark, unable to confront her. He thought it best to go, so he Apparated out of Hermione Granger's house.

. . .

Draco sat, staring at his green coat, draped over the extra chair in his lab. She must have brought it down the other day when he wasn't there. He found an excused to take more walks, not finding that the lab belonged to him anymore. Finally he decided he would have to lock the door to get anything done. Just as he finished organizing his tools, his body sulked to hear the sharp knocking at the door.

"I know you're in there Malfoy, we need to talk."

Draco sighed and slowly got up to open the door, only allowing a sliver of space between them. "I can't help you, Granger-"

"No, but you can, it worked!"

He raised his eyebrows and opened the door slightly more as she eagerly continued.

"I went to visit the next day and... my mother, most everything was- she remembers."

Hermione was welling up with tears, and at this news he opened the door fully allowing her in.

"Draco, you did it." She stared at him intensely, then suddenly moved in to hug him. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

Draco was stunned to have Hermione Granger wrapped around his body. He looked around to confirm the reality and gradually let his arms fall onto her back. The closeness of Hermione triggered her mother's memories that had been in the forefront of his mind these last few days. As she pressed against him, he could not stop the lewd thoughts of how a childhood birth mark, on the side of her chest, might look upon the fullness of her figure now that she was a woman.

His heart began to race and she pulled away, look up to him with another request, "Do you think you can do the same for my father?"

She must have realized how close she was to him still, so she stepped back, wiping her eyes.

Draco not knowing how else to respond, secretly elated that it had actually worked said, "Yes, I'll go back."

Hermione began to fiddle with her finger tips, "It means everything to me, having them back..."

When she looked back up to him, her eyelashes glistening with tears, she persisted, "Right, so, when can-"

Draco slid his hands into his trouser pockets, "I'm free tonight. Same time."

Having a brief history of Hermione Granger from the viewpoint of her mother, he could better read facial expressions. And though he always knew her to be genuine, he now understood why.

Hermione nodded, "Okay, see you then..." and she turned to walk away, leaving his lab.

Draco leaned against the threshold of the door, recognizing the emptiness that her mother had when Hermione had left their house for school. Only this time, he had perceived it as his own, the urge to pull her back, to keep her close.

. . .

"She's perfect, she looks like you."

"Yes, she does a bit. Are you happy that we have a girl?"

"Darling, I could never have asked for more."

Draco took a deep breath and stepped away from her father's earliest memories of Hermione. He was telling the truth, her father felt his need to protect her and loved her unconditionally.

Draco thought back to his own family. It was known that they always desired a boy, someone to pass on their surname. This was not the case for her family, they were truly happy to have her, and only her.

Once again, sifting through memories, he had begun to feel jaded, reflecting them against his own experiences. How can people be this loving, no strings attached, no onus to her family name?

When he was done, he glanced up to Hermione who was again watching him intently. He nodded to her, trying to figure out how to gain his own mind back, and this time remembered to grab his coat. Once again, he needed space to think. He swiftly exited her parent's bedroom, aware of how close she was following him, whispering back to her as he walked, "I did the same thing, so hopefully same result."

If he had learned anything from her father's memories, he should have moved faster to escape her questions that were bound to follow.

Before he could, Hermione grabbed his arm, stopping him abruptly. Draco turned in response, but before he could manage to speak, she Apparated them out of the house.

He did not recognize where she had taken him, scanning the room in confusion, then back to her. Is this her flat?

Hermione stood there with her head high, appearing to muster as much confidence as she could, "I just wanted to thank you."

She paused, letting go of his arm. "I suppose, that makes us even now."

Hermione stared at him intently, waiting for his confirmation that he understood her meaning.

Of course, she had to say what they were both thinking, making it a business deal. It was dumb luck though, having it all work out this way. He was finally able to do something for her without a sense of regret. He had waited a long time for this type of opportunity, and his only hope was that they could start again. Would she say that out loud, too?

Draco looked around her flat and briefly nodded in agreement. It was the least he could do.

Hermione reached for his hand, and he accepted it. She tugged him to stand and began to lead him across her flat, to another room.

A small light switched on, illuminating the space. There was something slightly familiar about the small personal objects and the color of her walls. Then he knew it more from a feeling than a memory, that it was the same color her mother chose for her childhood bedroom, right before she was born. He watched her closely, his heart racing, wondering why she had taken him there.

"I know you saw a lot, Malfoy. You probably know a lot more about me from my parents, than I do."

She guided him to sit next to her on her bed. "I need you to see me now though-" He lowered his brow in confusion, waiting for her to finish.

"I need you to see my memories. I've been working on, you know, collecting them."

Draco panicked and tried to stand up, "Granger, you don't have to-"

She grabbed his arm, "I want to. Please."

Draco stared at the dark wood floor below them, biting his lip. He tried to sit calmly beside her on the bed, "Are you sure?"

She smiled and grabbed his hands, guiding them to her temples.

He focused on his breathing, willing his headache to disappear, still slightly worn from her father's memories. He was too curious to take his leave, wanting to know what she had in her mind.

Draco adjusted his position to face her and steadied his hands "Okay, are you ready?"

Her head bobbed in encouragement and Draco swallowed hard. He searched her soft brown eyes, trying not to glance down at her lips, to keep from kissing her instead.

He had never felt so nervous, about to search the mind of Hermione Granger, slightly paranoid that he would only see bitter memories of himself. Exhaling, he whispered 'Legilimens', and he was immediately driven into her mind, trying to sense where she was guiding him.

He tried to remain focused, not expecting what he had were no doors at all, only windows. They were clean and colorful, with memories swirling behind them. As he passed, he gained a sense that the colors represent emotions she had contained in them.

Hermione mentally pulled him along, until he connected to one that she had been leading him to. It was the only window that looked to be covered in cool condensation, and he smiled to see it was a shade of green, with dark wood framing around the glass.

Just as he approached, a small circle of fog cleared, allowing him to view what was beyond. He saw images of himself in scenes that flickered by. He was young and laughing, it was her first memory of him. Confused, Draco wondered out loud, why do you remember this?

She did not think or communicate to him, but instead honed in on another scene; she was peeking over at him in Potions class as he focused on adding ingredients to the cauldron, becoming jealous as Professor Snape's encouragement. Another scene swooshed by, then another, and in some, she was secretly watching him at the Slytherin table at Hogwarts' Great Hall. He looked depressed, staring into space, ignoring his friends. He remembered this, all too well, only now aware that she had pitied him.

Draco tried to remain focused when he felt her hand rest on his thigh. He nearly stepped out of her memories, but she pleaded for him to stay.

Now there was a more recent memory at the Ministry where she watched from the lab window to observe him working. Her emotions were filled with pride, excitement, and her nervousness, especially when his eyes were on her. Eventually, her memories began to fade away, and the fog covered the glass once again.

He lingered there, in her mind, never imagining anyone could think of him this way. Then he noticed the warmth of her hands on his wrists.

His eyes adjusted seeing all of her now, the blur of tears welling up in his own eyes. Hermione gently wiped them away as they begin to fall down his cheek, "Do you see now?"

Draco took a deep breath, sniffed and looked down to her hands. Then he held them, lifting them to his own temples, "I think, it's my turn now."

Hermione looked taken aback, shaking her head, "Draco, I can't, I don't know how-"

He tightened his hold on her hands to keep them there, "It's okay, I'll guide you."

She gave him a worried look, and he grinned. "Come on Granger, you can do anything, but this, you can't learn from a book."

She sighed and sat up, focusing on his eyes. She took a deep breath and hesitantly whispered, "Legilimens".

Immediately he felt her mind jet into his, but with lack of control, so he had to steer her. He knew she was trying to hold back her personal thoughts, but his strength and talent were far beyond that already. A passing thought of hers wisped by, and he mentally responded, wouldn't you like to know, Granger?

Draco's hold on her was wavering and he urged her to focus. He visualized a hallway, lined with dark double bolted doors for her to see. He guided her to one particular door that opened up, only to find another door, then another. The extent of his guard was probably far beyond what she was used to. Understanding her astonishment he replied, 'There used to be more, keep going'.

Then, finally, she approached a white wooden door, decorated with etchings of vines. It slowly opened, and she was flooded with memories that he had of her. This is where you live.

He sensed that she was awestruck by the amount of memories he held, far more than she had of him. He had to urged her to stay in that mindspace, more than once.

Then he opened up her parents memories to her as they began to intermingle with his. After, he showed a more recent one, when they were on the lift.

He was holding her, and a once embarrassing moment to her, altered. He held ideas of what he could do for her, to her.

Quickly she lost her concentration, and she had left his mind. They both sat face to face, quietly trying to collect themselves, with more truths exchanged than they could possibly handle that night.

Draco let go of her hands, his heart thumping, "Was that, too much… was it..."

He watched her, worried that he had gone too far, noting her hands trembling. Patiently he waited for her to respond as she kept her head low. When she looked up to him, she appeared angry and when he began to speak she blurted, "You lied."

Confused by her statement, concerned that she thought he made false memories she continued,

"You lied to me this whole time- for your pride? For your guilt?"

He lowered his head, oh yes, that. She was able to see all of that, and more. Ashamed, he said, "I know. I'm sorry."

He could feel her stare on him and managed to look up at her, prepared for her to leave, or hit him, accepting anything to let him know where they stood.

She only continued to shake her head, "Well, I'm not wasting any more time-"

His eyes wavered on to hers for the statement. At the very least, Hermione Granger knew his position, and he had to accept this, even if she did not feel the same.

Glancing away, ashamed, he suddenly felt a warm and soft push on his lips. He paused, hesitating on the moment, obviously misinterpreting on what she had meant. Draco's body perked up at the realization, and he quickly pressed his lips back with more strength.

They both broke their kiss to study each other closely. He peeked up into her eyes in wonder, and when she smiled, he kissed her again.

Draco felt the soft glide of her hands through his hair, tugging at it gently. There was an aggression to her, and he deserved it, and he could not wait for what else she thought he deserved. So he pressed his hands to her backside, pulling her close to him, moving to kiss her neck allowing her a breath to speak,

"Don't waste my time ever again."

He mumbled in between pressing kisses down her neck, "I won't… never again..."

She tightened her grip on his shoulders, lifting her leg up to his waist, and he eagerly pressed her against him. He could not think anymore, he only wanted to create actual memories of pleasing her and thankfully, she did too. She paused, whispering against his ear, "In your thoughts, of me… do that, I want that."

He released a low moan into her neck, and as promised, did not waste any more time.

These re-edits have been a long time coming, and thank you AlexandraO for beta'ing this story.