Needless to say, she slept outside his door that night. For the first hour, she paced wondering how she could help him. The second hour was spent recreating what had gone wrong. She was so focused on the outcome of the potion and the possibility of its failure that she had neglected to consider the effects of regaining your memory. Learning how to deal with horror one day at a time is manageable. Learning how to deal with a lifetime of horror in a matter of minutes, well, that she hadn't thought of. The third hour, she tried to unsilence the room and to unlock the door, but as this was his family's property, nothing responded to her. Even when she asked Draco's house elf Tilley if he would bring Draco some tea, he told her that "Young master is not wanting to be disturbed," and brought her tea instead.
Draco found her the next morning slumped outside his door. He asked Tilley to put her to bed, which was accomplished without her awakening. She woke in her bed surrounded by vase after vase of white tulips. She looked them up. Forgiveness. But hers or his? She pondered this question as she showered and dressed. How could he possibly forgive her for her careless selection of memories? How could her parents ever forgive her? Maybe this was all selfishness on her part. She had been so focused on her goals that she hadn't thought of them at all.
She dressed and went down to breakfast, although it was fast approaching noon. She noticed Draco at the writing desk as she passed the study.
"Draco."
"A moment, Miss Granger. I am about done typing up my final notes."
She took a seat on the leather sofa and waited for him to pause in his typing.
"I'm sorry. I was completely careless with the selection of your memories and it's unforgivable."
"No, Miss Granger. It was I who has done the unforgivable." He turned to look at her. "As I said when we first met to work on this potion, I am very much aware that I don't deserve your forgiveness."
"Draco, please -"
"You have done nothing for which there is a need to forgive."
"Do you remember two days ago? At Disney. You -"
"I took liberties that I never should have taken. And for those, I apologize."
"But, I want to see if there is a future together! I want -"
"Miss Granger," he interjected quietly. "I am a Death Eater. You should want nothing to do with me. No one should ever want anything to do with me." He turned to face the window. "I'll not return to Britain again."
"But, Draco -"
"I've finished typing up the results from our test trial and will send you the final version shortly. The potion is bottled and has been readied for transport."
"Will you not talk to me like we're friends?" she challenged, her voice raising in volume. "Do you no longer want a personal relationship?"
"I will do whatever you want that is in your best interest. That, however, is not in your best interest."
"Is it because I'm a Mudblood?!"
"Your blood is more brilliantly crimson than mine. I've seen it," he spat. "Remember?"
At that word, they were both stunned to silence. Remember. Souviens-toi. Memory. Je me souviens.
After an eternity, she got up and walked across the room to where he was seated and cupped his cheek with her hand.
"I remember, Draco. I remember my faults and your faults. I remember things I shouldn't have done and did anyway. And things I did that I never should have. Mistakes I've made. And that you've made. And what I remember most? I remember that for one glorious summer day, I had the best time of my life with someone whom I respect more than anyone else. And I had hope. For once, I had hope. Hope for my happiness. And for yours. A hope that all our work wouldn't just accomplish what we set out to do, but would include the possibility of a future."
She kissed his cheek and he felt her tears run down his face. He didn't know who had taken whose hand, but he brought hers to his mouth and trailed kisses across her knuckles.
"I'm sorry," he breathed across her fingers.
"I know. I'm sorry too. The memories you regained all within a matter of minutes was no less torture than what I experienced."
"I can't unsee it. I can't unsee her carving your arm and you screaming and me doing nothing," he spoke, anguish in his voice.
"You couldn't unsee it before either." She kissed his brow. "But, together, maybe we can both see it a little less."
He picked her up and carried her to the sofa. He held her gently while she held on tightly, afraid that her hopes might again flee. The afternoon passed in quiet discussion and comfortable silence, soft caresses and feather kisses. Tilley brought tea and sandwiches. And that evening when Draco carried Hermione to bed, she asked him to stay.
He did.