Author's Note: Omg. Thanks so much! I watched as the number of reads increased while I was planning Chapter Two and I must say I'm surprised! 52 reads for Chapter One! It's definitely many more than I expected. I originally planned on uploading once a week but I finished Chapter Two early and I guess I should reward you guys with a new chapter for the number of reads :P Well. Do review! I'm hoping for about 2 reviews at least? And probably 100 reads before I post the next chapter. Please and thank you :)) Enjoy!


"Draco?" Draco looked up as Narcissa entered the room and sat on the side of his bed. "Mother! Why am I here? What's going on? Why can't I remember anything after my Fifth year? What happened to father? What happened to... Him?" A frantic look passed over his features, his silver orbs searching his mother's face as she looked down to her lap. Narcissa said nothing, but fiddled with his bed sheets. "Mother? Mother... What's wrong?" Narcissa tilted her head up to look at her son, her eyes filled with regret and pain. "Draco, you... You've been Obliviated. By your father."

"What?!" Three voices burst out at the same time. Both mother and son turned to the source of the two extra voices. Hermione and Harry stood at the door of the ward, their mouths open in shock. Draco glared at them from where he sat, and turned back to his mother. "What do you mean, Obliviated?" He asked slowly, his voice dangerously low. Narcissa hesitated for that one moment, and Draco burst out. "Mother! Explain this to me!" "Well... Lucius... He probably did this to punish you... He felt that you were not loyal. Not careful enough. You were so hesitant, Draco... The Dark Lord was unsure of where your loyalties lay. And when... When he died, your dad was blinded by rage. You were his first target. He felt that you were the reason for his defeat. He said that... That if you had properly taken care of the Elder Wand, Pot-Harry wouldn't have been able to gain ownership of it by disarming you. I... I don't know, Draco. He was just so furious. He wanted to avenge the Dark Lord so badly... Nothing I said could stop him... He Stupefied me, just so I wouldn't interrupt his punishing of you. I could hear your screams. I could feel your pain. Your agony. It was so... So heartbreaking... But I couldn't... I couldn't do anything, Draco. And I'm sorry... This shouldn't have happened... I shouldn't have let this happen to you... I'm a failure, Draco..." Narcissa was in tears by now. Her body was shaking violently as she sobbed, her head in her hands. "I should have stopped him... I should have stopped him..."

Hermione and Harry had left the room by then, but they had undoubtedly heard everything Narcissa had told Draco. "W... Wow," Harry took a huge breath and shuddered. He choked out slowly, "I don't... I don't know why we were never able to detect that when we were doing check ups on him..." He looked over at Hermione, who had that look of intense concentration. Her brows furrowed, lips pursed, arms crossed over her chest, her figure leaning against the white wall. She stayed that way for a while, not saying a word, but her mind in overdrive.

Several hours later, as Draco was lying in his bed waiting for sleep to consume him, he thought. He thought about his mother. About his father. About Hogwarts. About his lost memories. About Potter and the Mudblood. He groaned internally. He had been unconscious for who knows how long, and rid of two years of his memories. And then he suddenly wakes up and everything is dumped back onto him. This was all too much for him to handle in one day. Too much. Reality was indeed cruel. Well, at least life couldn't get any worse than that. And with that, Draco fell into a deep sleep.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IN CHARGE OF ME?!" Draco bellowed at the Healer. She grimaced. She knew that this would happen. "Mr Malfoy... I'm sure you understand that the only path that you can take now to regain your memories is to interact with somebody from your past, and have that person help you regain your memories. Right...? And seeing as Healer Granger is the only available person whom you have had a past with, she will be the one assisting you. I'm sorry, Mr Malfoy. But if you want to get your memories back, this is the only way to do it." She ended off with a tone of finality. This was it. There was no other way. Draco felt like pulling out all his hair and screaming. He refused to let the Mudblood help him. How dare they put him under the care of someone inferior to him?

He remembered. She was such a know-it-all. Hand raised up high during every lesson. She had the answer to every question. Never giving anyone else a chance. Always the teacher's pet. With that humongous mound of hair that could practically prevent people from looking beyond her. With that horrendous creature she called Crookshanks. Her punching him in Third year. How dare she? That filthy Mudblood dared lay a hand on him, a Pureblood? There were just too many events to remember. But the memories of her from Sixth year onwards, ceased to exist. What happened after, he couldn't remember. But all he knew was that he hated her to the core. Because of her blood status. Because of her intelligence. Everything about her, he hated. And now, she was back into his life? Just like that? What more, to help him get his memories back? He simply refused to believe that that was actually happening. He didn't want her to help him. He would rather die than have a Gryffindor help him. What more a Gryffindor Mudblood. He sighed. This was just ridiculous. Absurd. And he had had enough.

"Malfoy. I can't drop my duties just because you refuse to let me help you! I have to do this, whether you like it or not." Hermione sighed. He just didn't get it. "Nobody has to know! You can just have a really long break, and I can do my own things and live happily without you interfering in my life!" Draco snapped at her. "I don't want you to help me. I don't need you to help me. Do you, or do you not understand that?" He, too, was getting sick of repeating himself. While she didn't want to talk to him, much less go back into his life, she had a job to do. And she wasn't about to put her job aside just because of their mutual hate. As much as she hated him, she knew that he wanted to remember. He wanted his memories back again. She also wanted him to not look at her as though she were filth. She knew she definitely wasn't. She may not be Pureblooded but she was definitely smarter than most. Like Crabbe and Goyle, she thought, nearly snorting out loud. Moreover, there was no difference between the blood of Purebloods and Muggles. She knew it. During the war. Everyone's blood was the same. They were mixed up along with the bodies that were strewn all over the school. There was no difference at all. Why then, couldn't there be equality? Why couldn't Muggleborns have the respect they obviously deserved and craved? She was sick of this injustice.

On the other hand, he didn't care what happened, he just wanted her to leave him alone. He didn't want help from a Mudblood. Someone of a lower blood status than him. And he certainly didn't wish for Little Miss Know-It-All to remind him of his past. He was sure that she'd feed him with her opinions on how he was such a prick, and how he shouldn't be prejudiced against others whom he believed to be inferior to him. How he should treat everyone equally. But that wasn't the case. It would never be the case.

In society, the concept of equality never existed. People were meant to be classified by their wealth. Their blood status. Their popularity. To him, everyone was treated how they should be. Social levelling was inevitable. The richer, the Pureblooded, the more popular, would always be on top. Priority would always be given to them. They would always get the best. People always wanted to satisfy those on the top of the social ladder. That would never change. It didn't need to be changed. And she just couldn't understand. She couldn't understand that some people would always be better. More important. And he was ready to slam his head against the wall because she was too clouded by her stupid Gryffindor traits and judgement to see it.

"So what now?" Draco's train of thought was interrupted and he looked up to see Hermione's look of frustration mirroring back at him. She had her hands on her hips and looked eerily like Professor Mcgonagall at that moment. He nearly burst out laughing at the thought, but managed to refrain himself from doing so. He searched her face as though the answer was written on it. Hermione watched as his eyes roamed over her face, trying to think of a solution. She really couldn't understand him. How was it possible that someone could harbor so much hate towards another? Why couldn't he understand that all she wanted was peace? She, by no means, wanted them to become friends all of a sudden. But the war had taught her a lot. To see so many Muggles tortured and brutally murdered. She wanted them to be at least civil to each other. Why—

"Let's have an Unbreakable Vow to solve this, once and for all."