Disclaimer: It was never stated how long Hermione took to find her parents, and the actual process she undertook to find them is shrouded in mystery, so I'm taking some liberties on the specifics of that. Also, please note that this is written from Draco's POV, and they're his memories, so Harry's personality may not be what you expect simply because this is Draco's perception of things.

This is written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Prompts are at the bottom.

This is dedicated to Sophy.

Moments from the Present (Memories from the Past)

Draco looked up from the book he was reading as Hermione stormed into the room, slammed the door shut, shrugged off her coat, kicked off her boots, and collapsed on her bed.

"Tough day?" he asked, sympathetic.

She only groaned in response, lying absolutely still in a spread-eagle position, her eyes closed. He returned back to his book, respecting her non-verbal request to leave her alone. A sense of deja vu settled over him.

As he turned the page, a memory from several months prior flashed before his eyes.

Harry walked into the room, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion, his face drawn. He placed his case on the floor and hung up his coat slowly, as though every movement caused him pain. Once he was done changing, he fell back on the bed, a long, deep sigh escaping his parted lips.

"Tough day?" Draco asked as he reached over to run his fingers through Harry's hair.

"Mmm," Harry hummed, relaxing under Draco's ministrations. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm even still trying."

Draco continued to massage Harry's scalp, wondering how to respond. He could just say some words of encouragement, but Draco knew all too well not to force someone to continue to do something that made them unhappy.

"Maybe you need a break," he said, instead.

"Can't. They'll kick me off the force."

"Not even for a weekend?"

"Mmm." Harry rolled over, nuzzling his face into Draco side and sighing. "Maybe we should just leave and go somewhere. Just you and me."

"Where will we go?" Draco asked gently, indulging Harry's usual 'let's run away from our problems' approach.

"Anywhere." He finally opened his eyes to gaze up at Draco with a tired smile. "Everywhere."

Draco chuckled and turned back to the book he was reading, pulling his arm away from Harry to flip the page, but Harry grabbed his wrist and slid Draco's fingers back into his hair. Draco smiled and massaged Harry's scalp, and the latter sighed as he draped an arm over Draco.

"It's fine," he mumbled, as though to himself. "This is fine."

He was startled back into the present when Hermione bolted upright, her eyes wide, as though she had just had a profound realisation. She turned to him and said, "Food," drawing out the vowel sound to emphasise how much she needed it.

Draco snapped his book shut with a nod and stood. They headed out of their shared living quarters, appearing from the outside as a small camping ten but magically enlarged on the inside to fit six single beds and lockers.

As they made their way through the darkness, Hermione's wand lighting the way, Draco noticed that she walked one step ahead of him, as she always did since the time they started working together three weeks prior. She had established a sense of distance between them that Draco wasn't comfortable closing. He spotted the light of the kitchen tent several metres ahead and sighed in relief, not realising how tense he had been until then.

Hermione made a beeline towards the pungent aroma of tomato soup as soon as they entered. Draco settled down on one of the stools by the table in the middle, grabbing the first thing he could get his hands on—a large banana muffin—and bit into it.

"Didn't see you at dinner, Malfoy," the matron said as she came over, her tone chastising but her expression kind.

"Didn't have much of an appetite," Draco said.

"You never do," the matron replied, piling a plate with some mash, boiled vegetables, and a small piece of steak. She pushed the plate towards him, and he tried to politely decline, but she wasn't having it. "Won't have one of our volunteers passing out because I didn't feed him enough."

Just then, Hermione arrived with a large bowl of steaming soup and settled down opposite Draco, gladly accepting the toasted bread the matron offered her.

"Always eats well, this one," the matron said with a smile, patting Hermione on the back. "You should tell your friend here to eat more. Says he doesn't have an appetite."

Hermione looked up at Draco, and for a moment, he almost heard her say, "We're not friends," but instead she smiled and said, "He never does."

"I eat when I'm hungry," Draco groused, but the matron continued to complain about how skinny and unwell he always looked, making Hermione laugh.

As Draco finished up the last of his mash, he glanced up to see that Hermione still had a little bit of soup left, and wondered if she was eating slowly for his sake. It reminded him of the time he had run into Harry—the first time in a long while—two years or so after the war.

"Malfoy?"

Draco looked over his shoulder at the familiar voice, immediately on guard as the bespectacled man walked towards him. "Potter?" he asked with a frown, then caught himself and relaxed his expression. "What are you doing here?"

He realised it was a stupid question the moment he said it, considering Potter was an Auror and they were in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was Draco who was out of place.

"I was just about to ask you that," Potter said with a laugh, and something about his friendly demeanour irked Draco. How was it so easy for him to walk up to Draco and start up a conversation like they were friends and no animosity had every existed between them?

Draco held up a file in answer. "Had some paperwork to take care of."

"Ah, alright." One of Potter's friends—it wasn't Weasley, although Draco had expected it to be—called to him, and he said, "We were just about to get lunch, so…"

"Right. Well, don't let me keep you."

Potter shot him a smile. "It was good seeing you."

Draco bowed his head. "Likewise."

He turned back to the witch behind the desk when Potter came back up to him and said, "Hey, I was just wondering—did you want to grab lunch with us?"

Draco glanced at the group of men standing some distance away, eyeing him curiously. He shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but this may take a while." He patted the file on the desk.

"Right. Of course. Well, see you around, then."

"Bye."

By the time Draco had finished his work, he was starving, and he decided to grab a bite to eat in the Ministry's cafeteria. As he settled down with his tray, someone came up to him.

"Hi," Potter said, much to Draco's chagrin. "Sorry, I spotted you by yourself and decided to impose. I'll leave if you want me to."

Draco bit back a sigh, put on a smile, and gestured to the seat opposite him. "Please."

Potter settled down with his half-eaten lunch, having the sense to look sheepish. "You're probably wondering why I'm bothering you."

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't."

Potter shrugged. "I'm not too sure myself. I just acted on impulse, sorry."

"You don't have to apologise," Draco said, realising a part of him had been somewhat disappointed that he had refused Potter's lunch offer before.

They didn't speak much, but Draco couldn't help but notice that Potter had ensured that he still had some food on his plate, despite it being nearly gone, so Draco could take his time and didn't have to feel uncomfortable about making him wait. And he was grateful for it.

"You hardly eat anything," Hermione commented as they cleaned their plates, drawing Draco out of his thoughts.

"I eat when I'm hungry," Draco repeated, annoyed that she was still pursuing the matter.

"I suppose our work timings can make it difficult to eat when you're hungry."

Draco nodded. "I try to eat something, even if it's small, because by the time I have the time for a meal, I'm not hungry anymore."

"I wish my body worked like that," Hermione said wistfully. "I'm in a perpetual state of hunger and exhaustion these days."

"That's because you're overworked and hardly sleep."

Hermione shot him a questioning look as they existed the tent. Draco shrugged.

"Your bed's next to mine. I've noticed how much you toss and turn."

She mumbled a quiet Lumos, holding her wand out and illuminating the path ahead. Draco waited a moment, until she was one step ahead of him, before joining her, and that was when a startling realisation hit him: it wasn't Hermione who had been walking ahead of him; it was Draco who had been walking behind her.

Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled a shaky breath and closed the distance between them. He glanced at Hermione, wondering if she had noticed, but she seemed to be lost in thought.

"I'm leaving by the end of the month," she said abruptly.

"How come?"

She sighed. "I originally only joined this camp as a volunteer because it was the easiest way to come in contact with families returning to the country after fleeing during the war but having nowhere to go because their homes were destroyed."

Draco tried to see what expression she had on her face but it was too dark to tell. "Who are you looking for?"

She waited a beat before answering. "My parents."

Draco faltered. "Your… parents?"

Hermione nodded. "Before Harry, Ron, and I went into hiding in order to search for Horcruxes, I altered my parents' memories of me in order to protect them, and they moved to Australia. But when I went to the place that they should have been living in, after the war had ended, they were nowhere to be found." She inhaled deeply, her voice breaking. "I searched everywhere. I tried to figure out where they could have gone, but upon speaking to people, I found out that my memory charm had started to wear off, confusing them about who they were and why they were there, and they had set out on a journey to find out."

Draco was stunned. He didn't reply, trying to process everything she had told him. He couldn't begin to imagine the kind of pain she must have gone through to make her own parents forget about her, only to find out that they were missing. He could not have done what she had.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked softly.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose I just wanted to tell someone."

She wants someone to tell her that she's doing her best and that she'll find them.

"It's been five years," she whispered, her voice trembling, and Draco knew she was crying even without looking at her. "I've done everything I could. This camp was my last hope. And now… I don't know where else to look."

Draco stopped just then, and Hermione turned to look over her shoulder. She swiped her sleeve across her face and shot him a small smile, sniffling as she stopped crying, but her dark eyes still looked immensely sad in the blue light of her wand.

"I'm sorry for burdening you with this. It was wrong of me to impose on you."

"No," Draco said, his voice tight. "Thank you for telling me."

Because now I know you consider me to be someone you can confide in, even if it was just the one time.

"Can I do anything to help?"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "Harry told me all the time when the two of you were together how much you've changed. I've always regretted never having the chance to spend time with you because I was always abroad."

"Well, you're here until the end of the month, aren't you?" Draco said, and Hermione's smile was more genuine this time.

"Let's head back," she said. "It's late, and we really need some rest."

As they made their way back to their living quarters, the quiet of the night permeated Draco's muddled emotions, taking him back to another memory.

"Who are you?" Harry asked him, his words slurred and his eyes glassy from all the alcohol he had consumed.

Draco stared at his hands, his own mind fuzzy. "I'm not too sure myself. Everything I've known—everything I was taught—all of it is meaningless now."

"Is that why you've been going around volunteering in places around the country and helping people affected by the war?"

"It's my way of seeking atonement for my sins," Draco said softly. "I know I can never undo what I did, but maybe this way, I'll at least be able to live with myself."

"I know two years is a long time and people can change a whole lot, but…" Harry shook his head and squinted at Draco. "It's like you're someone completely different. You look like the Draco Malfoy I knew, you sound like him, and you have the same name, but beyond that… you're nothing alike."

Draco heard the unsaid question. Can anyone truly change so much that even their core nature becomes different?

"I couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror during my sixth and seventh years," Draco admitted, knowing that the likelihood of either of them remembering the conversation the next morning was probably low. "I hated who I was—who I had been taught to be. I had never once done anything of my own volition. Everything I said, everything I did, was according to my father's wishes and instructions. But I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. It made me sick."

He inhaled a deep breath and closed his eyes. "After the war, I wanted to be my own person and make my own decisions. I wanted make my own mistakes, not follow in my father's footsteps." He opened his eyes and looked at Harry, who held his gaze with so much intensity that his green eyes were blazing. "I wanted to reinvent myself. And, to do that, I had to let go of everything I knew and learnt and start all over. It's been difficult, but I can finally look at myself in the mirror without being disgusted at what I see."

Harry studied him for a long moment, a smile spreading across his face. "I like this new Draco Malfoy," he said. "I think I can be good friends with him."

Draco found himself laughing and crying at once, his chest tight and wrought with emotion. Never had he thought that, of everyone, Harry Potter's acceptance of him was what he had sought the most.

Draco smiled at the irony of the memory; he had decided to spill his heart out to Harry because he had thought neither of them would remember, but it turned out to be one of his most vivid memories.

Hermione said a soft Nox as they ducked into the tight entrance, and they made their way to their beds quietly, not wanting to disturb the four others, who were fast asleep.

"Good night, Draco," Hermione whispered as she got under the covers.

"Good night," he replied, turning away from her and watching the sliver of moonlight that shone through a crack in the drapes until sleep overcame him. When he dreamed, he dreamed of another memory.

"I like you," Draco said, his palms sweaty and his cheeks hot. "A lot."

Harry smiled as he leant forward to capture Draco's lips in a gentle kiss. "I like you a lot too."

"So… what does this mean?" Draco asked, gesturing to the bed they were lying in, their clothes strewn across the floor.

"It means we had some terrific sex," Harry said, the laughter clear in his voice.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, Potter. I'm serious."

Harry shrugged. "Let's not put a label to it. I like you, you like me, the sex is great… why ruin it by trying to define it?"

Draco nodded, albeit unconvinced. He turned to lie on his back and stared at the ceiling. "You're right. Let's just go with the flow and see where it takes us."

"I like the sound of that." Harry inched forward and nibbled on Draco's ear. "Although, there is another sound I like just as much, if not more…"

Draco laughed as Harry straddled him, entwining his fingers in Harry's hair as he kissed him long and deep.

Draco woke up feeling a sense of immense emptiness. It was similar to the feeling he got when he had passed the point of being hungry and simply felt hollow inside. But this… this was more profound. It was almost as though his emotions had run dry and he could no longer feel anything anymore.

The memories were still fresh, and he knew what he had felt then, but as they filtered through his mind now, it was like watching a montage of moments from someone else's life. They no longer evoked any of the happiness, contentment, gratitude, affection, or even sadness, that they should have.

And it left him feeling detached from his memories, as though they had never been moments from his own life in the first place.

Did this really happen? he sometimes wondered, but he knew that it had; he knew because he remembered so vividly, as though it were yesterday.

Yet, why was he unable to feel anything when he thought back on them? Was he subconsciously subduing his emotions in order to protect himself from any hurt or pain? Did he just need more time to forget them? To forget him?

"Draco," Hermione called, touching his shoulder gently. "We're late."

He pushed himself out of bed, showered and changed quickly, and stood in line for breakfast in the large dining hall, all the while feeling a sense of dissatisfaction.

Something is missing. But I don't know what it is.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" Hermione asked him, looking like she had hardly slept herself.

"I managed." After a moment, he said, "Why did you think your parents came to this camp?"

"I don't know if they did," she answered truthfully. "But I had to try."

"What will you do once you leave?"

She stared ahead, clutching her tray so tightly that her knuckles were white. "I don't know."

"Will… will you keep searching?"

She sighed. "I don't know."

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, not having meant to upset her.

She offered him a small smile. "No, it's alright. I know you're only trying to help."

As they got their food and sat down at whatever table had empty seats, Draco asked, "What about Weasley?"

"What about him?"

Draco studied her face for a long moment. He knew, from Harry, that Hermione and Weasley's relationship had been tumultuous. With her being abroad a lot in search of her parents and him being an Auror, they hardly ever saw each other, and they must have called it quits at some point after Draco and Harry had.

"No," he said, focusing on his food. "It's nothing."

She didn't reply, and he was left to his own thoughts.

"It's been two weeks since I saw you," Draco said, agitated. "You can't possibly be that busy that you can't have dinner with me for one hour a week."

Harry's face in the fire shifted, the pieces of coal moving as he sighed. "I know, Draco, but things are really hard at work. You understand that—you're busy with your volunteer work as well."

"Not so busy that I can't spare one hour for a meal!"

Harry sighed again. "What do you want me to do?"

"I literally just told you! We've had this fight so many times, now. I don't even understand how you're unable to comprehend something this simple!"

"You're right; I'm sorry. I have some time tonight. Wanna come over and we can get food from that Muggle place you like?"

Draco deliberated for a moment, having the urge to say no simply out of spite, but he sighed and nodded. "Alright. See you then."

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"I really am sorry."

"I know."

He sat back, not feeling satisfied in the least that he had got what he wanted. After all, he was well aware of Harry's pattern of behaviour this far into their relationship. They would fight, Harry would apologise and do better for a few weeks, and then it would go back to square one.

Draco was sick of having the same, stupid fights over and over again. He hated that he was coming off as clingy and desperate—as though he couldn't survive without seeing Harry every so often. And that the other party didn't seem bothered in the least.

But is it really that unreasonable to want to see him at least for an hour a week? He thought angrily to himself. He spends more time with Weasley and them every Monday at the Leaky. How come he's never too busy to miss out on that?

Draco shook his head. He wasn't going to go down that path of bitterness and resentment. But, at the rate things were going, was there really any point in trying?

"Are you done?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded, and they collected their trays and made their way out.

"Got a lot to do today?" He asked her as they walked over to their station opposite the dining tent.

"Just the usual. You?"

"Same."

Another volunteer asked Hermione something just then, and Draco settled down, ready to tackle the day's work. As he sorted through the newest entries to the camp, his mind wandered to his final interaction with Harry.

"I can't do this anymore," Harry said, his head in his hands. "I don't have the time. Being an Auror is difficult as it is, but coupled with the fact that our superiors are hell bent on making our lives miserable and my recent insomnia, I really can't do this anymore."

He looked up at Draco, looking disappointed and angry at himself. "I know I said I'd try, and I really did for the past two years, but I thought things through, and I feel that this is for the best."

Draco eyed him for a long moment before nodding. "I see. I'm glad to hear that you know what you want, how you feel, and that you made a decision of your own. Funnily enough, though, there are two people in this relationship." He stood, his anger resonating through every fibre of his being. "Did you never think, for one moment, that you should have discussed this with me so that we could've come to a decision together, even if it was about breaking up?"

Harry stared at him, as though the thought had never even crossed his mind, and that only furthered Draco's anger. He threw his arms in the air and began to pace.

"You vanish on an assignment for two weeks and use that as an excuse to not contact me at all, and even after coming back, if I hadn't forced myself into your flat and confronted you, would you have called me at all? Or would you have just not spoken to me ever?"

Harry shook his head. "I know I should've contacted you, but I needed time to think—"

"How bloody selfish are you?" Draco exclaimed. "I know I'm selfish too, and I know I've been in the wrong many a time, but it's been two years, Harry! Does this relationship mean nothing to you?"

"Of course it does," he said, and Draco knew he was doing his best not to yell as well. "That's exactly why I thought about every single possibility of how it would work out, and what I could do to make things better." He sighed. "But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see a future where I wasn't having a hard time managing my work and my other commitments as well as my insomnia and this relationship. I just couldn't."

Draco's shoulders slumped, and he sighed in resignation. He knew how stubborn Harry was. He knew that once Harry had made up his mind, that was it. And he knew, better than anyone else, that that was exactly why they would never be happy together. They were too alike in how stubborn and headstrong they were.

The breakup was a long time coming.

"Again," Draco said, his voice tired. "You could have spoken to me about this. We could have come to a mutual understanding and split amicably instead of you deciding everything by yourself and simply informing me of your decision."

Harry's eyes widened. "So… you've wanted to end this as well?"

"I won't say I didn't anticipate that this would happen, but I will say that I hoped we could work through it. Now I know I was wrong to expect that." He shrugged. "And now that you've informed me of the verdict—" Harry winced at Draco's phrasing, "—I'm going to take my leave."

"Draco—"

"Good talk. Bye, Harry."

"Excuse me?"

Draco started, looking up at the woman standing before him, clearing his throat and smiling at her. "Yes, how may I help you?"

"I heard that yous was looking for the Wilkinses?" she said with a thick Australian accent, looking between him and the other volunteers at the desk.

"I'm sorry," the volunteer beside him said, checking her list. "We don't seem to have anybody by that name at this camp. Do you know who was looking for them?"

The woman shook her head. "No. I just heard that someone was looking for them—their daughter, if I'm not mistaken."

Draco's heart stopped for a moment before beating at double the rate. Hermione hadn't told him that she had altered her parents' memories of their names, too, but he wasn't going to lose the chance. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said, jumping to his feet. "Would you mind coming along with me? I think I know whom you're looking for."

"Really?" she gasped, her eyes shining.

He led her around the tent to the back, where Hermione was partaking in the basket-weaving class that a few townspeople conducted every week.

"Hermione," Draco said, breathless, and she looked up at him, frowning.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I think…" He gestured to the older witch. "I think this lady here knows your parents."

Hermione leapt to her feet, her eyes wide. "Do you—do you really?"

"Oh, goodness," the witch said, hugging Hermione. "What a spitting image of Monica you are! I would never have thought their daughter was a witch!"

A sob escaped Hermione's lips as she clutched the woman. "You really know them? Monica and Wendell Wilkins?"

"Oh, yes, darling. I met them as they were traveling around Australia looking for their daughter. What wonderful people." Her face fell. "But they seemed so troubled. Always looked like they'd seen a ghost. I took down their phone number just in case because I was worried about how forgetful they seemed."

She held out a piece of paper, and Hermione all but snatched it from her. "Phone," she muttered, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. "I need a phone…"

"Hermione," Draco said, placing a hand on her arm. "Calm down." She looked at him with tears in hers eyes, and he smiled at her. "There's a township about thirty minutes south of here. We can use a payphone there."

Hermione nodded vigorously then engulfed the older witch in a hug, sobbing all the while. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

"I hope you find them, darl. Give them my love."

"I will! Thank you!"

They rushed to the director's tent, Hermione hardly able to string two words together, and Draco explained the situation to the camp's director, who told them that they could take all the time they needed. They Disapparated and arrived just on the outskirts of the township. Hermione ran to the nearest payphone and dialled the number, her face full of hope. But, with every moment that the phone went unanswered, her hope seemed to be dwindling.

"Try again," Draco insisted for the third time. "Maybe they're away from the phone."

Hermione slid to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and sobbing into her arms. Draco knelt beside her, a lump forming in his throat, not knowing how to help her. An idea came to him just then, and he ran a hand through his hair, deliberating if he should act on it, before deciding that, for Hermione's sake, it was necessary.

Grabbing the receiver, he dialled the number he knew belonged to a specific Ministry-issued mobile phone. After a few rings, a familiar voice filled his ear, and all the emotions that his memories couldn't evoke came crashing down on him at once.

"Hello?"

Inhaling a deep breath, Draco spoke. "Harry, it's me."

Assessment 3: Photography Task #5: The Sensual Look: Write about two people getting closer in a situation

Writing Club:

Disney Challenge, Themes: Romance - Write a romance.

Book Club: Pol: (trait) brave, (emotion) determined, (word) strong

Showtime: 9. You're The One That I Want - Write about two people finally getting together

Amber's Attic: 4. "Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world." 5 bonus points

Em's Emporium: 6. Alt — (scenario) Write about a blurred line [Harry and Draco's relationship is the blurred line]

Liza's Lodes: 4. Write about someone working towards a goal

Angel's Arcade: Ceodore Harvey: (trait) unconfident, (era) trio, (trope) enemies to friends

Lo's Lowdown: 2. Amy Santiago: character: Hermione

Film Festival: 7. Trope: Rivals to Friends

Seasonal Challenge:

Days of the year: December 31st - Make Up Your Mind Day: Write about someone making a decision on an important matter.

Winter Prompts: (word) Sniffle

Flowers: Plum Blossom - (theme) New Start

Water: Elemental Characteristic: Write about someone who is acting very emotionally.

Slytherin Challenge: December 23 Write about the effect of war on someone.

Specific House Challenge 2: Character - Draco Malfoy, Trait - Determined

Star Chart Challenges: February 27th - Mercury at Greatest Eastern Elongation: (theme) Loss