Stepping out of Granger's Floo, I looked around her sitting area and noticed the Pensieve on the coffee table. She wasn't in my line of sight, but I could feel her presence; she was definitely in the house somewhere.

I brushed the soot from my robes and moved towards the Pensieve. I could see the shimmering surface of a memory in the basin, and I wondered if she'd poured one of mine in or if it was hers.

Debating diving in, I sighed and called out to her. Deep down, I knew that she might not want me to see whatever was in the memory and I didn't want to piss her off tonight.

"Granger?"

"I'll be down in a second," she responded from the top of the stairs. "Sorry, I lost track of time. There's food in the kitchen if you're hungry."

Curious, I made my way through the lower level and looked into the pot on the stove. It was full of pasta with a red sauce, and I idly wondered if Blaise had taught her how to make it. She'd told me they cooked together, and I could see them standing in this very spot, his arms around her waist as she stirred.

A rush of envy flooded through my veins.

Rather than continuing to turn it over in my mind, I opened a cabinet at random and realised it was the right one — there were bowls and plates stacked neatly on each shelf.

"Lucky guess," I mumbled, reaching for a drawer next.

It was the right one again — all the silverware laid in a tray.

Granger's kitchen wasn't huge by any means, but it seemed strange that I'd open the correct cabinet and drawer by chance. It was like my body remembered being in this space, even if my mind couldn't.

I took a serving of the meal and moved back to the dining area, sitting in the same seat I'd occupied two days ago. Even though the Pensieve had been moved to the sitting area, the trunk was still on the table, lid closed. A few seconds later, I heard Granger's hurried footsteps on the stairs and looked up at her.

It was a mistake.

She had clearly just taken a shower — her curls were dripping wet, the water soaking into her well-worn Gryffindor t-shirt, and she was in a pair of lounge pants that sat low on her hips.

My mouth nearly dropped open, even though it was the least put together I'd seen her thus far.

But this was it — the fantasy. It was simple and domestic — what I had always wanted with her. She was comfortable in her own skin around me and didn't feel the need to keep a mask on.

"Is it okay?" she asked, gesturing to my untouched food.

I swallowed, trying to redirect myself. "I just sat down. Have you eaten yet?"

She shook her head. "I was cooking and then I realised the time, and my hair… Well, you remember what it got like in Potions lessons, right?"

Unable to stop myself, I snorted a laugh. "Who could forget that?"

"Exactly," she said, rolling her eyes. "The heat from the hob did that, so I took a quick shower."

My manners got the best of me. "I'll wait for you. Grab some food, Granger."

Nodding, she moved into the kitchen. "How have things been at the office?" she called, continuing to act like this was a completely normal occurrence.

And, I supposed it was for her — this was something we'd likely done hundreds of times before.

"It's quiet," I answered, unsure of what else to say. It was Sunday, so I hadn't been in the past two days and didn't have much to talk about. But she was trying, so I decided to give her something. "Potter gave me a case about five witches that have disappeared—"

"Oh my god, he did not!" Granger interrupted, rushing out with a plate of food balanced in her hands. "The one you were working on right before…?"

"Yes."

"Draco, you were obsessed," she told me as she settled into her chair. "Other than spending time with me, you sort of buried yourself in that case—"

"Well, I'm sure that was because of the circumstances. Honestly, I was hoping for a distraction like that now."

I waited for her to take a bite of her food, but she just stared at me.

"Is it—Is this too much for you?"

As much as I wanted to say I was handling it all fine, I decided to be honest with her.

"It can be sometimes. I knew you said the memories were hard to live with, but I — if I don't stay busy, I just find myself fixating. Trying to remember more and more even though I know it's not physically possible," I explained, doing my best to keep my voice level. "And I know the healer said one a day, but learning bits and pieces every other day just doesn't feel like enough. We're talking about a year and a half of my life, Granger."

She looked down at her untouched plate. "I know, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry. We can—" she sighed and tangled a hand in her wet curls "—I can show you more. We can meet every day if you want to. You've been tolerating it well and I'm not going back to work until next week, so I've got the time."

I knew she was putting on her brave face for me, trying to make me feel better, even if it would make her feel worse. And I knew that was probably how we ended up in this situation in the first place — she'd put my feelings before her own, over and over again.

"I'll leave it up to you," I said, trying to give her the choice.

Twirling pasta around the tines of her fork, she replied, "We'll see how it goes. We can try it for the next few if that works for you. I'm not sure how busy you'll be with Scorpius and the case."

"Did you help me with this investigation? Before?" I asked, reverting back to the previous topic of conversation.

Granger shook her head. "I didn't. Because things were so strained between us, you didn't ask me to."

I silently tasted the food, pleasantly surprised again. Granger could cook well and I absent-mindedly wondered how many times she'd made me dinner in the past. The quiet filled the room, making me feel awkward in a way I hadn't before.

"This is weird, right?"

Looking up at her, I shrugged. "It feels a bit off, yeah."

"I don't want it to," she confessed, her eyes intently focusing on her dinner. "I thought if I made it feel more like we were friends, it would be easier, but that is certainly not what's happening."

"Do you want that? To be friends?"

There was indecision written across her face and then she grimaced.

"I don't know. But being around you again, it makes me miss you. I know you hate me for what I did, and watching all of these things with you, it makes me angry, but—"

"Stop," I interrupted, making her look up. "Let's just talk and be honest about everything."

Much to my surprise, she nodded and gave me her full attention.

"I keep telling myself and everyone around me that I hate you," I began, and her hand trembled. Setting her fork down, she twisted her fingers together. "But, the truth is, I don't think I can hate you, Granger. Not after seeing these memories and how much you were hurting. I can't blame you for what happened. Not entirely."

"But you should," she replied, looking straight at me with misty eyes. "I should have been stronger and just walked away."

"We saw what happened when you tried to do that. I can't imagine it would've been any easier after the fact."

"It doesn't matter. I should've at least tried, or talked to you, or really done anything other than what I did—"

"And I should've done things differently, too," I told her, and I truly meant it. "So let's finish eating, and then we'll just… We'll watch the memory, and we'll figure things out. One day at a time."

Granger nodded and picked up her fork again, taking a small bite. I noticed the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her lips, and it felt good to be the cause of even the smallest bit of happiness in her life.

Salazar, she still tied me up in knots.

After a meal and some stilted conversation, Granger rose from the table to put away the leftover food. She'd insisted that I stay in the dining room rather than follow her, so I gave her the space she wanted and turned my attention to the trunk.

I didn't know if I should touch it or not, but the desire to look through the things housed there overtook me. It was full of bits and pieces of my life, after all. I unlatched it and tipped the lid back. Of course, the red box that I knew held the diamond necklace stood out the most.

Reaching down, I grabbed it and opened the top. The diamond sat there sadly, unworn and waiting for its time to sparkle again. I ran my fingers along the chain. It was so delicate, so fine that I could hardly believe it was strong enough to hold a stone that large.

And the stone was magnificent.

Now that I was seeing the original up close, I could clearly tell that the one Astoria had shown me was a fake — an unworthy copy. If given the chance, I was sure this diamond would cast rainbows along the walls of any room.

Granger stepped up beside me, careful not to actually touch me.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, her voice sad. "I wish I'd gotten more wear out of something so expensive."

I hummed, closing the lid and setting the box down on the table. I wanted to tell her that she could very well wear it now, and the thought of a diamond that cost tens of thousands of Galleons seated against a Gryffindor t-shirt she'd likely had since our fourth year made me want to chuckle.

It was perfect.

Rather than suggesting she put the necklace on, I summoned the Pensieve, bringing it closer to us.

Granger collected the memory in the basin, but not before I saw Blaise's face staring up at me. I wanted to ask her what she'd been watching but she offered nothing, and I didn't let myself question her.

Blaise was her issue to work through. I couldn't get involved in whatever she was feeling.

Clearing my throat, I forced myself to move along. "My memory or yours?"

She chewed her lip. "I suppose it doesn't really matter for this one. It's all... We're together the whole time."

"Can we try mine?"

With a perplexed look, she asked, "Why?"

"I want to see if it feels different," I responded, being as vague as possible.

In truth, I wanted to see if I could remember everything — every scent, taste, feeling of touch — if the memory was my own.

"Okay," she replied, starting to remove things from the trunk. She pulled a vial out, looked at the date written on it, and then moved further back in the sequence. "We can try it, but I don't think it will."

I watched as she pulled the stoppers from three vials and tipped them all into the Pensieve. If there were that many and she knew specific dates, this was going to be big — likely another trip — and I felt a fluttering in my stomach.

"What are we seeing?"

Granger tied her still-damp hair back in a ponytail. "Valentine's Day 2005," she began quietly. "We were in Paris."

"I remember. From the notes with the Christmas gifts," I replied.

She snorted a laugh. "Oh, you're going to recognise the place. I guarantee it."

A feeling of dread settled over me as I realised where we were likely going.

Before I could ask and verify, she touched the surface of the memory, and I followed her.

When I landed beside Granger, I saw my past self pacing in front of the windows of a very grand hotel suite, his hands running through his already mussed hair. He radiated nervous anticipation. Looking around, my suspicions were confirmed — the hotel I'd recognised in Paris was the one I'd stayed at with Granger. I could see the red awnings through the window, and the bedding was similar.

"Fuck," I stated, and she nodded.

"Seeing you here with her that first anniversary after… It nearly killed me," she confessed, her eyes trained on memory Draco. "This isn't the only time we stayed here, so it was hard—"

She was interrupted by the Floo activating.

Before memory Granger even had a chance to set her bag down, memory Draco rushed over, pulling her into his arms and kissing her hard.

"I was worried you wouldn't come," he murmured against her lips, his fingers winding their way into her hair. "So fucking worried."

"I said I would," she replied breathily, color rising to her cheeks. "I was only ten minutes late."

"Those ten minutes felt like an eternity." He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes squeezing shut. "You're always early."

Memory Granger sighed. "Blaise stopped me on my way out. He had a lot to say."

"About?"

"Us. You told him we were leaving for the weekend?"

Kissing her again, he tried to avoid the question, but she was persistent.

"Draco, you can't just tell people that we're—"

"Shhh," he said, smoothing his hands over her hair. "Blaise already knows. He's known since the beginning. I haven't told anyone else."

"But he's friends with Pansy who's friends with Daphne," memory Granger reminded him. "And Daphne—"

"I know who Daphne is, Granger," he said, cutting her off. "Let it go. Blaise isn't going to tell them. He knows how I feel about you. Always has."

"Well, he's trying to convince me to stop seeing you."

Memory Draco's hands moved down, ghosting over her arms and landing on her hips, pulling her flush against him.

"Is he?"

She nodded in response.

"But you're still here."

"I am," she answered, her lips trembling. "I don't want to lose you."

"Granger, do you honestly think that's a possibility?" he asked, kissing her and stilling her lips. "Because, let me tell you, it's not. If you want me, I'm here."

"Oh, I want you," she replied, her tongue darting out and licking her lips. "I'm more sure of that than anything else."

And Memory Draco lost all control. He kissed her greedily, his lips smashing against hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth. His fingers pressed against her centre, rubbing her through her trousers. When she hummed with pleasure, he swallowed the sounds.

"Fuck. I want this too, but we need to get ready for dinner if we're going to make our reservation ," memory Draco groaned. " We don't have time right now ."

"Sounds like someone made a grave error when scheduling this trip," memory Granger said, taking a step back from him. "Do you want to show me to the bathroom, or shall I find it on my own?"

Grinning at her, he took her hand and led her through the suite, excitedly detailing every little feature the luxury hotel had provided. She smiled back at him, her excitement clear even though he'd been spoiling her for months at this point.

When she looked into the bathroom, she turned back to him and said, "Okay. Get out. How much time do I have?"

Memory Draco checked his watch. "A little over an hour."

"Well, I'll see you in an hour, then."

The scene changed and I found my memory self standing in front of the windows again, looking nervous.

"Are you almost ready, Granger?" he called out, looking down at his watch. "We've got a bout ten minutes to get to the restaurant."

And then she stepped out of the bathroom, the red dress from the Christmas memory clinging to her body in all the right places, the Cartier necklace on display. Her heels were high — black with red soles — and they made her legs look longer. Sexier.

But memory Draco didn't comment on those things.

"Your hair," he said, stepping forward to run his fingers through the styled curls. "It looks so different."

"I curled it properly," memory Granger replied self-consciously. "I thought we were going somewhere nice—"

"We are," he interrupted, his eyes landing on her red lips, longing to kiss them. "I love it. You look beautiful, Hermione."

With a little grin, she gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. "So, where does a Malfoy take his date on Valentine's Day in Paris?"

"We're going to L'Arpège," he began, leading her towards the private Floo. "I've arranged a secure connection for us."

"You remembered," memory Hermione said quietly, looking up at him. "You remembered the story about my parents."

Memory Draco nodded. "Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me. If I had to take a NEWT in Hermione Granger, I would get an Outstanding. "

It was my turn to stop the memory. "What's the story here?"

Present Granger looked over at me and I could see the sadness in her eyes. "It was somewhere they always wanted to go. When we came to Paris on holiday before fourth year, we had a reservation. But there was some issue with the water that day and they weren't able to open. My mum was devastated, and my dad promised her we'd go back as a family as soon as I'd finished up at Hogwarts."

My stomach lurched, and I didn't know how to respond.

"Anyway, we obviously never made it back," she continued, her voice choked and sad. "You told me about how you and your parents went to France during the summer holidays, and I told you the story and that I needed to go back for them."

"Oh," I said stupidly. "Well, I'm glad I—"

"Me too," Granger replied, cutting me off to avoid talking about her parents. "Let's keep going."

The memory resumed around us, and our memory selves stepped out into the small wizarding entrance to L'Arpège, looking around and taking everything in. We were greeted by a host and quickly escorted to the private dining room. There were only fourteen tables, and I wondered how much I'd paid for a spot here on Valentine's Day.

Whatever it had been, the smile on her face made it worth every single Knut.

I watched how we settled in together, ordering wine and food. Memory Granger smiled at memory Draco, and he held her hand on top of the table.

"So, it's Valentine's Day, and we're in Paris," he began, using his free hand to lift his wine glass to his lips and take a long sip. "What would you like to do after dinner?"

Memory Granger thought for a moment. "Well, would it be too stereotypical if I said I wanted to go somewhere where we can see the Eiffel Tower?"

He shook his head. "Whatever you want, it's yours. What else?"

"Well, tonight, I'd like to go back to the hotel and just spend some time together," she said, raising their joined hands to her lips, kissing the back of his, her tongue darting out to tease him. "We don't get a lot of uninterrupted time, and I just… I want to be with you without worrying."

I saw the guilt reflected in memory Draco's eyes — she was killing him. I wasn't sure if it was intentional or if she was just being honest and the truth happened to hurt, but Granger was absolutely killing him with her words.

"We're here all weekend, Hermione. We can do whatever you want from now until Monday morning when we have to go back to work," memory Draco said, moving their hands to his lips and kissing hers in return. "We'll walk back to the hotel so we can see the Eiffel Tower. It's not too cold out tonight."

"Sounds like a date," she teased, making him laugh. "You know you're taking me to the Louvre tomorrow, right?"

"I had no doubt that we'd be going there at some point. Have you been since you found out you were a witch?"

She shook her head. "No. When my parents and I were here, we didn't really have the time. We spent most of our holiday in the south and only travelled to Paris for a day or two."

"Well, there's a magical section—"

"I've read about it," memory Granger interrupted, her eyes sparkling. "Why do you think I want to go?"

Memory Draco laughed. "I should've guessed."

"Have you been before?"

"Of course," he answered, grinning. "They had some of the Malfoy Collection on display before the war. We were invited as honoured guests."

"What's in the 'Malfoy Collection'?" she asked.

"Mostly just old magical artefacts. Some books and other trinkets. Jewelry that's been passed down for centuries. The usual pretentious shite."

I rolled my eyes, remembering how things had been that summer. I'd been forced to attend every function and pretend like I gave a shit about my great-great grandmother's emerald hairpins.

Memory Granger cocked an eyebrow.

At nearly the same time, my past self and I both said, "It was awful."

It was eerie, the way I felt so different, yet thought the same. Present Granger's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't say anything.

"But you've always been a fan of the pretentious shite," memory Granger replied. "I haven't forgotten who you were."

Leaning closer, memory Draco said, "Exactly. Who I was . I don't care about any of that now."

Their conversation was interrupted by the waiter bringing the first course of the meal, but I could see the way memory Granger bit her lip, as if she were holding something back. I turned to present Granger.

She sighed, realising I wanted to know what she hadn't said. "I didn't want to be the one to bring up divorce. You hadn't talked about it yet, but I wanted to tell you that if none of that mattered to you, you could've left Astoria months ago."

"Makes sense," I murmured. "You should've, Granger."

"I hadn't even told you that I loved you yet," she stated, her arms wrapping around her waist protectively. "I—It didn't seem like the time, and I was afraid to spoil our trip."

The waiter stepped away and I watched as memory Granger moved the conversation along, tucking into whatever she'd ordered and stealing bites from memory Draco's plate. The pureblood heir inside of me was horrified at the lack of etiquette, but a larger part of me flooded with happiness at the show of familiarity, of intimacy. Things were truly different with Granger, and it wasn't just about the sex.

The meal flew by, even though there were multiple courses. The final one was a shared dessert and I could sense the heat growing between memory Hermione and Draco. Their eyes were clouded with lust and they were hardly acknowledging that there was anyone else in the room. Conversation had ceased, though they'd exchanged more stories from their younger years throughout the previous courses.

It was a perfect date, and it made me long for that kind of connection again.

As soon as the bill was paid, memory Draco rose from the table and extended his hand to memory Hermione, helping her stand up. She beamed, her eyes and her smile more radiant than the diamond nestled between her collarbones. He removed his jacket, draping it over her small shoulders.

"For the walk," memory Draco whispered, replying to her unspoken question. "It would look strange if you were walking through the streets of Paris without a coat, right?"

Memory Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I didn't think of that."

He kept his arm draped over her, holding her close and leading her towards the restaurant's exit. They didn't disguise themselves — did nothing to hide who they were — and I supposed it was because they were in a Muggle section of Paris, but it seemed extremely reckless. International travel was so easy within Europe, especially for witches and wizards.

"We didn't care if we were recognised?" I asked.

Present Granger shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly, the thought crossed my mind, but I figured that you would've done something if you wanted to."

The streets were somewhat crowded, the romance of the city luring people from far and wide for Valentine's Day. There were flowers everywhere, along with heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and little red or blue gift bags bearing the logos of Tiffany's or Cartier. High heels clicked along the pavement as smartly dressed couples walked arm-in-arm.

Memory Granger surveyed her surroundings and then glanced up at memory Draco. "This is nice — being out like this."

"It is," he agreed, squeezing her a bit tighter, letting the unspoken words hang heavily in the air between them. "I'm honoured to have you on my arm."

I watched memory Granger carefully, noticing she was biting her lip. She was holding something back. Again, I turned to present Granger for answers.

She sighed. "God, how can you tell every single time?"

"Like I said, if I had to take a NEWT about you, I'd get an Outstanding. As horrifically creepy as it sounds, I knew your mannerisms before this relationship even started."

She mimicked memory Hermione, biting her lip and debating what she wanted to say.

"I wanted to tell you that I wanted things to be like this all the time," she said, taking in the sights and sounds of that night and keeping her focus anywhere but on me. "But I didn't know how to say it without flat out asking you to leave her. I wanted you to make that decision on your own."

Silently, I wondered exactly when I'd finally gone to the solicitor. For some reason, I still hadn't told Granger about the divorce papers my mother had given me, and nothing had really clicked into place for me yet. Even when Astoria and I talked about getting a divorce or when I'd first seen the papers, I didn't remember a single thing. There was something connected to that memory that was missing — and I needed to figure out what it was.

When they turned a corner, the Eiffel Tower was visible in the distance, and memory Hermione's eyes locked on it, her steps quickening. Memory Draco chuckled and lengthened his strides to keep pace with her.

"You've been to Paris before, Granger," he said, dropping his arm from her shoulders and lacing his fingers through hers. "It's not like this is your first time seeing it."

Memory Granger turned to face him. "But it's a little bit different this time. I'm here with you, and it's Valentine's Day, and…"

Her words trailed off, and memory Draco froze. Stepping to the side of the pavement, he tugged her hand, pulling her towards him. He threaded the fingers of his free hand through her curls and looked into her eyes.

"I get it. I've seen it a hundred times, but tonight, with you… It's definitely different —"

Silencing him with a kiss, memory Granger's body melted against his, and it was a moment I never would've dared imagine. They were in love. I could see it clear as day, and while Astoria cast a shadow over it, it still shone brightly.

This memory wasn't to show me the pain that we'd caused each other. It was to show me that it had been real, that there had been happiness.

And our past selves just stood there on the pavements of Paris, lost in each other. I watched as their lips broke apart, but memory Draco's forehead still rested against memory Granger's.

"I'm in love with you, too," she whispered, the confession slipping past her red lips. "I have been for months."

Memory Draco didn't speak, but his hand cupped her jaw, making her meet his eyes. As his thumb brushed over her cheekbone, their breathing synchronised, their chests rising and falling at the same time.

After a few moments, memory Granger asked, "Are you going to say anything?"

He shook his head and kissed her again, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. I saw memory Granger shudder, saw him pull her somehow closer, mistaking the tremble for a chill.

"Let's go back to the hotel," he murmured, his hands moving to her upper arms and rubbing, trying to warm her again. "This… I want to talk about it properly, but not here."

"Please tell me I'm not being a fucking wanker right now," I said, looking to present Granger. "This isn't about getting into your knickers or avoiding the conversation."

She shook her head. "No, not at all."

Present Granger sped things up, bringing us back to the hotel. As soon as they'd crossed the threshold of their room, memory Draco dropped to his knees and started removing memory Granger's heels, taking the time to press his lips to the bare skin of her knee and her inner thigh while he was down there.

She shrugged his jacket off and draped it over the back of the sofa before looking down at him.

He rose to his feet and toed his own shoes off, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "I'm so in love with you," he said, gazing into her eyes like he hadn't done it thousands of times before. "And I know that our relationship, it's not typical or constantly filled with happiness, but I swear to you, I will find a way to give you that."

Her breath hitched.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" memory Draco asked, his fingers tangling in her curls, holding her in place.

Memory Granger nodded. "I think so."

"Just give me time," he replied, swooping down and kissing her harder than he had on the street.

This wasn't a simple 'I love you' or promise; he was devouring her, claiming her, making her his. And she was truly letting him, her hands only gripping his waist. She was allowing him to take the lead.

His lips moved from hers, trailing along her jaw, moving down her neck, landing on her collarbone and sucking hard. She cried out and he smiled against her skin.

"We have a balcony," he whispered, his lips moving back up to her ear.

Memory Granger fisted a hand in his fringe and pulled him back, meeting his eyes. When I looked at my past self closely, I could see how far gone I'd been; my pupils were blown wide, my trousers tented, my skin flushed.

I was desperate for her.

Smiling, she replied, "Whatever you want, Draco."

Though it was clear she wanted to check out the view, as well.

He took her hand and led her out, spinning her and pressing her back into the balcony railing. The sky was clear, so the moonlight danced along her skin, along the diamond necklace, making it sparkle.

"This is better than I'd ever imagined when I planned this trip," memory Draco said, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. "Everything with you is like that, though."

"What do you mean?" she asked, tugging his shirt free from his trousers.

Leaning down, he placed a gentle peck on her lips.

"The reality is always better than the dream," he murmured before kissing her again. "You're perfection, Hermione. I never should've left that room in the Leaky."

Memory Hermione pulled him closer, her fingers moving to the buttons of his waistcoat.

"No, you shouldn't have," she breathed, glancing up at him through her lashes. "But I forgive you. You thought it would be a one-off, Draco. I never would've imagined that this"—her hand moved between them—"could be real."

"It's real," memory Draco responded, his hands wandering down to her hips. " And I imagined it so many times before, but I still can't believe that you're actually in love with me, too."

And then he resumed kissing her neck, the cold breeze catching her curls, blowing them around.

"I am," she reassured him, her breathing accelerating. "Oh, gods, I am. You're so—"

She tilted back and he pressed her even further into the balcony railing, not allowing her any space. Silently, I found myself wishing that he'd let her finish her statement. I wanted to know what she'd thought of me. I couldn't ask present Granger; she'd see how much her words affected me, and I wasn't ready for that.

Stepping closer, I could see the gooseflesh on memory Granger's skin, the combination of cold February air and arousal causing the reaction. Her arms had snaked around memory Draco, holding him close as his tongue ran along her neck, following the necklace. He kissed and sucked until he arrived at the diamond, and then he stopped and leaned back, taking her in. Her nipples were hard and her cheeks were flushed.

He lifted her and carried her back inside, setting her down on the bed. "It's getting cooler out there, and we've got a perfectly good mattress right here. And, I don't want anyone to see you the way I do. "

He loomed over her, his fingers working his cufflinks off and then tossing them onto the nightstand. Chest heaving, memory Hermione watched him, leaning back on her elbows. The red dress clung to her, shining in the moonlight that streamed in through the balcony door. She crossed her legs, and memory Draco smirked.

"Enjoying the show?"

She nodded. "I love watching you."

"And I love watching you," he replied. "Why don't you show me the lingerie I've been fantasising about for months, darling?"

Rather than standing and undressing, memory Hermione started raising the hem of her dress higher and higher, revealing inch after inch of her thighs. Memory Draco watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, his breathing speeding up to match hers. In just a few moments, she uncrossed her legs again and her knickers were partially on display, the red lace covering her centre.

The sexual tension was palpable, and I tried very hard to focus on anything but how fucking hot things felt. We'd watched ourselves have sex so many times now — I should have been used to it — but I was struggling to keep myself from looking over at present Granger to see her reactions.

My dick was getting hard, and I prayed she didn't notice. Gods, in Mykonos, she'd been confident, walking around naked, but this somehow felt sexier.

"Come on," memory Draco said, reaching for her hand as soon as his shirt and waistcoat hit the floor. "I want to see the set."

His fingers grabbed the zipper pull on her back, slowly working it down tooth by tooth. In the meantime, memory Granger went to work on his belt, quickly unfastening it. Before she could remove his trousers, he stopped her. His hands grabbed the straps of her dress and started tugging them upwards. Laughing, she lifted her arms, twisting and wiggling to free herself. As soon as he could, he pulled it up and over her head, leaving her standing in only the red lace he'd picked out for her.

Memory Draco took a step back, his eyes roaming over her hungrily. "Like I said, I don't care for red, unless it's on you , Granger." He gestured for her to turn and she did. "When you wear it, though… It's my favourite fucking thing."

With a smirk, she climbed back onto the bed, kneeling at the edge and beckoning him closer. Like she'd used a Summoning Charm, he was standing before her in less than a second, and her hands started roaming his body, resuming their earlier work of removing his trousers. Her face was level with his bare chest and she started kissing downwards, her thumbs looping into the sides of his boxers. His hands found the back of her bra, but she broke away and shook her head.

"I'm keeping it on . You bought it for me and wanted to see it ," she said. "This — I want tonight to be about you. I love you, Draco."

Her words floored me. Even though I'd heard her say it earlier, it really resonated inside of me this time as I watched her eyes. While the air was thick with lust, there was a softness — a tenderness — to the way she looked at memory Draco. It hadn't been there in previous encounters.

She really was in love with him.

Memory Draco let out a shaky exhale and nodded, allowing her to keep her lingerie. However, he quickly removed his pants and she pulled him onto the bed with her, his head landing on the pillow. Settling in beside him, memory Granger kissed every inch of his skin that she could reach. Her lips moved from his jaw to his ear, down his throat, pausing only to suck on his pulsepoint. And then she was at his chest, his abdominals, shuffling her body so she was straddling his lower legs.

I felt a muscle in my own jaw tense; I knew exactly where she was going.

"Granger," memory Draco groaned as her lips encircled his tip. "I want—"

She engulfed him, taking him deep into her mouth and making him moan. His hands went into her hair, gathering it up. He tugged, pulling her back so she met his eyes. She didn't release him, only tossed him a flirty wink before sliding downwards again.

"Fuck," he hissed. "I wanted to be slow and sweet and—Oh!"

Memory Draco's hips jerked up involuntarily as her tongue teased him. She pulled back, releasing him so she could take a deep breath.

"Slow and sweet?" she asked, her voice full of desire. "Draco, that's not necessary. I love the way we are—"

"I won't argue," he interrupted, looking down at her red lips, her sparkling eyes. "It feels too fucking good to say no."

She laughed and resumed her earlier actions, her lips sliding up and down, her tongue putting pressure on the underside of his cock. One of her hands moved between his thighs, cupping, rolling, and gently squeezing his balls. I saw her hips start to rock, her body desperate for any friction it could find.

My past self noticed, too. He stopped her, reaching down and pulling her off.

"I need to be inside of you," memory Draco said. "If you want to keep those knickers, take them off."

She looked at him, puzzled.

"I'll tear them apart otherwise," he clarified, making her smile.

"It wouldn't be the first time," she pointed out.

"And it sure as fuck won't be the last."

Memory Granger got to her feet and slid the tiny knickers off, the red lace landing on the hotel floor beside his pants and trousers. Shifting to the center of the bed, memory Draco remained on his back, waiting for her.

For a moment, she stood beside the bed and just looked him over, taking in every single inch of his naked body.

Her tongue darted out between her lips and she asked, "Do you want me on top?"

"It's up to you," memory Draco said. "Whatever you want, Hermione."

Her name was spoken with reverence, the way it always sounded coming from him.

I looked to present Granger, and her arms were wrapped around her waist, hugging herself tightly. But her eyes…

They were filled with tears, and I wondered what was going to happen next.

Memory Granger crawled onto the bed, straddled memory Draco's hips and leaned forward, capturing his lips. His hands moved lower, aligning himself with her centre and rubbing the head of his cock through her folds.

"Mmmm," she hummed against his lips, shifting towards him and increasing the contact. "I'm ready, Draco."

"I can feel that," he replied, notching himself inside her.

She sank down, bit by bit, taking him in slowly. When she bottomed out, they both moaned, and a shiver racked through memory Hermione.

"Did you feel that?" memory Draco asked, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

As memory Granger started to move atop him, she said, "I did. Gods, it's like our bodies just recognise—"

"Souls, Hermione," he corrected. "Our souls recognise each other. It happens when we kiss or touch. I can feel you whenever you're near."

She sat up straighter and braced her hands on his abdomen, rolling her hips and grinding against him.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. Like I'd said in Greece, she was a goddess, sex appeal radiating off of her in waves. She was confident, bold, and completely sure of herself.

In my peripheral vision, present Granger was nearly the total opposite, her body language more cowering than sexy and sure.

I'd changed her, and not in a good way.

Waving my hand, I stopped the memory and her head snapped up. She looked over at me, both a question and tears in her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

Based on the expression on her face, it was the dumbest question ever. She choked out a sob.

"Can we—Can we just skip the sex? Please?"

"It hasn't bothered you before," I began carefully. "What's different here?"

Her teeth sank down into her lip and she somehow managed to hug herself tighter, but she didn't answer me verbally.

I moved forward, extending a hand towards her. "Granger, what's going on?"

She stepped back. "Please don't, Draco. I can't—You can't touch me."

Something inside her had snapped, and I didn't know how or why.

Author's note: Sorry for the cliffy. This memory started out as over 12,000 words, and this was the best place to split it. There are two more big scenes after this one, and I didn't want them to get lost in a big sea of words!

As always, thank you for your lovely comments and feedback. I love it all.