Disclaimer:I own no one, unfortunately. I would like to dedicate this chapter to anonymous, my tenth reviewer.

A/N:Ok, firstly I would like to deliver a message to a reviewer whose review has been particularly offensive. If you have such an aversion to Dramione fanfics, don't bother reading or reviewing them, but you don't need to put them down because there are still obviously many people who really enjoy reading Dramione fanfics and writing them. So, don't like, don't read.


Chapter Three Seafolly

'It appears that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy's secret affair has been confirmed. Just yesterday, they were snapped talking to each other outside the Headquarters of none other thatn The Daily Prophet. This may not seem to be much, but our witness, Colin Creevey, has revealed their conversation. It appears that the proud Mr Malfoy has just asked the intelligent Ms Granger to the upcoming Charity Ball that they are both hosting. Well, we know what to expect, don't we?'

Hermione was sitting in her black office chair, sitting a cup of coffee as she read The Daily Prophet. She furiously threw it into the waste basket before and rubbinged her forehead delicately. She could feel a migraine coming on.

She gave up on curing her impending headache and let her head drop helplessly into her arms. Her curly brown hair was draped around her shoulders, emphasising her exhaustion. Hermione was tired. It was 10am on a Tuesday and, she, Hermione Granger, already felt wasted. She felt her eyelids drooping and soon enough, she was sleeping like a baby.

'Mr Malfoy, you cannot go in! Mr Malfoy!' Belinda called out desperately, rising from her seat.

Hermione woke up with a jolt, and shook her head vigorously, hastily clearing any signs of sleep.

'This is ridiculous,' Draco declared, marching proudly into the office.

'I know it is! Our personal lives are being watched,' Hermione sighed, taking a rather large sip of coffee.

Draco shrugged. 'I don't particularly care. I'm used to it. I was just saying what you were thinking,' he said,. 'Anyway, that's not what Ii wanted to talk to you about. My mother wants to meet you, now.'

'Now?' Hermione asked, astonished.

'Now,' he replied firmly.

'You Malfoys are a bunch of selfish idiots,' she muttered said under her breath.

'What was that?' Draco asked innocently, even though he although he had heard every single word.

'Nothing,' she answered sweetly before Disapparating to the Malfoy Manor.

She waited outside the towering, black gates for a whole five minutes before until a squeaky voice emanated from the depths of the manor.

'Please state your name and purpose,' the voice said, wavering .

'Hermione Granger. Mrs Malfoy called me here,' she answered, a little frightened. Being outside the Manor brought back memories she didn't want; like the time Bellatrix tortured her, but that memory was nothing compared to the time she obliviated Draco once Lucius himself had tortured her.

The gates opened immediately, sending an ear-splitting screech across the landscape.

Hermione hesitantly entered hesitantly and she was gracefully met by Narcissa Malfoy.

'Before I enter, Narcissa, I want to ask you one thing,' Hermione said forcefully.

Narcissa nodded her head stiffly slightly, an indication for her to continue.

'Where is Lucius?' she asked bluntly.

Narcissa paused hesitated before answering,. 'He's long gone, Hermione. He passed away last year. There is no need to worry about any past misunderstandings you've had with my late husband.'

'It wasn't in the papersI had not heard of this, though,' Hermione commented, confused.

'We kept it a secret. Only our family knows,' Narcissa explained shortly.

Hermione stepped into the grand house, taking into her the familiarity of it. They entered the dining room, where a crystal chandelier was suspended over the table.

A house-elf came hurrying into the room, pulling out chairs for Narcissa and Hermione. Another house-elf followed the first, balancing a large plate of small cakes and tea precariously atop his head. Hermione looked at them disapprovingly; she couldn't help it, it was in her nature.

'I wanted to talk to you today, about your apparent relationship with my son,' Narcissa began, taking a delicate sip of her Earl Grey tea.

'There is no relationship, Narcissa. Well at least, not a romantic relationship. Only one merely based on business,' Hermione assured.

'That's not what I meant. Are you fine with just a business relationship?'

Hermione didn't answer; her gaze left Narcissa and wandered distractedly to the porcelain teacup in her hands. She absent-mindedly rubbed her thumbs around the rim, over and over again.

Sensing that this was a delicate topic, Narcissa proceeded to talk about the plans for the Charity Ball.

If there was one thing to be known about Narcissa Malfoy, it was that she became a completely different person when it came to planning events, especially those that involved a grand dance.

She began talking about exquisite banquets, hiring the most popular Wizard and Muggle bands, large bouquets arranged at each table that would further be accompanied by expensive silk tablecloths and red, velvet chairs. It wasn't until she started arranging dance classes for the guests with the best dance teachers imaginable, that Hermione realised that she needed to put her foot in it.

'Narcissa, all of that would not be possible as we are inviting trolls, giants, house-elves, goblins and centaurs,' Hermione reminded her.

Narcissa looked crestfallen at this and reluctantly decided that the venue would be outdoors seeing as the giants 'wouldn't fit anywhere else.'

She finished detailing the plans for the Charity Ball, bidding Hermione farewell in high spirits.


'You have an owl from Mr Charlie Weasley, Hermione,' Belinda called.

Pigwidgeon gave an excited twitter as she entered her office and flew over to perch clumsily on Hermione's outstretched arm. She untied the scroll attached to Pigwidgeon's leg with fumbling fingers. Charlie rarely wrote to her, unless it was something important. The owl had previously been Ron's but he had gratefully given it to Charlie when Molly offered to buy him a new owl; a sane owl.

Hermione,

I've just returned from Egypt with a dragon egg, but that's not the point. Ginny and Lavender are both giving birth. Come quickly, they're at St. Mungo's at the moment.

- Charlie

'Already?' Hermione exclaimed to herself, nearly dropping the grey owl in shock.

'What's the matter?' Belinda asked inquisitively, peering around her desk.

'Ginny is in labour a month too early,' Hermione said worriedly. It had been recently discovered that 45% of early-born babies turned out to be Squibs and Hermione knew that a life without magic for a witch or wizard was true horror. Magic was the one thing that she couldn't live without.

She was about to leave for St. Mungo's when she found Draco lounging lazily in her sofa, browsing the various wizarding and Muggle magazines arranged on the table.

'Do you not have anything better to do than to just sit in my office all day?' Hermione sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

'Well, I'm meant to be in at a meeting right now,' Draco started, still flicking through Seafolly. [A/N:Seafolly is a magazine that advertises swimwear and beachwear.]

'Then why are you still here? Go and attend to your business!' Hermione threw her coat furiously at him.

'I' m the boss, Granger. It won't make a difference if I'm late.' Draco paused at a double page in the magazine, where a bronze model dressed dressed in nothing but a skimpy bikini seductively peeked back at him through her eyelashes. 'Besides, I still haved important matters to talk to you about, and you just walked out on me,' he continued, his voice faltering ever so slightly.

Knowing that Draco was very distracted by the model, she snatched the magazine away from him, slightly unnerved. 'And what is that?'

'Malfoy stocks are rising.'

Hermione waited for Draco to continue, but he remained silent and grabbed another edition of Seafolly.

'Is that all?' Hermione asked, tone rising dangerously.

'Yes,' he answered, resting the magazine on his lap, open at another page dominated by with a bikini-clad model.

'You idiotic ferret! Go back to you meeting now and stop making them wait!' Hermione said irritably, beating him around the head with the rolled up magazine in her hands.

'I'm not that stupid, Granger; I was being sarcastic. The real reason that I'm here is because I need your help since you are the smartest witch of this age..., though I am almost as intelligent,' he said with all seriousness, standing up slowly. 'I don't remember anything from 5 years ago. There are bits and pieces, but other than that, it's nothing. I want you to help me find them.'

'Why are you asking now? Why didn't you ask your mother when you first realised they were missing?' Hermione asked suspiciously.

'Six months, Granger. Six months where I've had no clue what I was like, what I did, the people I met during that time. Merlin's pants, I could have had a girlfriend or an illegitimate child during that time. I want to know,' Draco urged, evading her questions.

It had been a long time since Draco's subconscious had dug up the blankness at the back of his mind. He vaguely remembered the Healers consoling him; knowing those missing six months were gone forever.

As he paced back and forth in agitation, gradually wearing a path into her carpet with his boastful designer dragon-hide shoes, Draco frowned.

Granger was spouting some nonsense as usual, he noted thoughtfully to himself. Even as he pouted petulantly and responded with sarcastic comments, a recently familiar sensation poked him.

'Draco?' Hermione asked tentatively, bringing him back from his own world. Her eyebrows were knitted together and her lips were set in a hard frown. 'There's a reason why you can't remember anything. Perhaps it's better that way,' Hermione replied softly.

Draco gave her his infamous glare and stepped walked into the billowing green flames billowing from the fireplace.

He had disappeared.

Trembling, Hermione pulled out a parchment and quill, sinking into the couch. She wrote a hasty letter to Narcissa.

Narcissa,

Draco has just asked me to help him find his memories. I suspect that he would ask for your help too, if he had not done so already. I ask you to refrain from telling him. I do not wish for it to be revealed, even with Lucius' absence.

-Hermione Granger


Narcissa looked up from reading her newspaper; she had heard the continuous pecking sound on her window pane. She let the beautiful tawny owl in and fed it some owl treats after retrieving the small scroll.

Narcissa read the letter with a sigh. It was typical of Hermione to be so wary, so guarded, even though most of the dangers in her life were gone. The Dark Lord was gone from the wizarding world forever, Bellatrix had died in Azkaban and Lucius had passed away in his sleep. Surely a witch as skilled and intelligent as Hermione didn't have anything to be afraid of.


It was as Hermione predicted. When Draco came home that night, he pounded roughly and urgently on her door. He had of course, asked her before, but she had led him to believe that they were insignificant. She didn't think that he would allow this to slide, but he never brought it up again until today.

'Mother, I need your help. My memories. I want them back and I need you to help me find them,' Draco demanded, glaring at the house-elves that had tried to keep him quiet.

Narcissa turned around slowly to face her son, sighing deeply before answering him truthfully, 'I know where your memories are, Draco, but it's not time to get them back. You're not ready yet.'


[A/N: So how was it? Please review]