The first thing I noticed when I arrived home from Grimmauld Place was the owl — Draco's owl — perched on the windowsill. I was struck once again by how much she resembled Hedwig. And, when my brain connected that this was Draco's owl sitting on my sill, a note tied to her leg, I started to get anxious. He'd only owled me once since we'd started watching the memories, and that had been to cancel on me.
Waving my hand, I let the owl in and she flew over to me, politely extending her leg.
"Thank you for waiting," I said, running a hand over her feathers after I'd retrieved the note. "I'm afraid I don't have anything I can give you in thanks, but you should have good hunting right outside."
She flew over to the armchair and perched on the back of it, and I wondered if he'd told her to wait for a response. Slowly, I unfolded the note, trying to calm my racing heart. My eyes traced the letters of my surname, penned there in plain black ink, and then continued reading. It was nothing more than a friendly missive and it felt just as awkward as our conversation had the previous night.
But he was checking in with me, even when he didn't have to, and it made me smile just as brightly as my godchildren had earlier in the day.
I decided I could give him a response.
Draco,
I had a wonderful day, and you're right, I'm very tired after running around in the garden for most of the afternoon. I also had plenty of time to catch up with Pansy, Luna, and Hannah, so that was nice.
Lucky you, finding a place that suits you on the first time out! I know plenty of people who have spent multiple days house hunting. A cat would suit you, I think, and Scorpius would probably enjoy having a pet. I'm sure the two of you will have many adventures in London.
I meant to ask... I have a few options for things to show you tomorrow. We can jump back to a happier memory, like our trip to New York, or we can see my conversation with your father. Or I could put a few other things together, like the first time you cast a Patronus and a bit of a trip to the bookstore in Knockturn?
Let me know what you think.
-H.G.
Watching the owl fly off into the distance, I wondered where she was off to. I knew he was having dinner with his family at the Manor, and I hoped she wouldn't deliver my response in front of Lucius and Astoria. While there was nothing out of the ordinary in the note, I didn't want Draco to be bombarded with questions.
When I walked back inside, I sank down in my usual corner of the sofa. I was pleasantly buzzed, but my mind hadn't quieted. Just like after the Obliviation, my thoughts kept straying to Draco. In a way, I resented that I was back in this situation. I felt like I was falling into old habits and I didn't want to go there again. Being dependent on anyone — Draco especially — filled me with dread.
Closing my eyes, I started to think about the memories I could show him tomorrow night. I saw Lucius stopping me in Diagon Alley, leading me into an out-of-sight side street and taking me Side-Along to a secluded cabin I didn't recognise. I saw the inside of Blaise's flat, dark and masculine and so different than it had been when we'd started dating. I saw the Prophet photos of Draco and Astoria in Paris, smiling for the camera, her baby bump on full display.
Even now, it hurt to think about.
And then I jumped to New York City, to the busy streets and seas of yellow taxis, our suite at the Four Seasons, to the Broadway rendition of Wicked we saw. I'd been holding my breath nearly the entire time, my attention fixed on the stage, but I had been able to feel Draco's eyes on me, watching me watch the show. I remembered the way he'd kissed me atop the Empire State Building, taking my breath once more.
Much to my horror, I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Quickly, I wiped it away, resolving to think of something else. That trip had been wonderful but, for me, there had been an underlying sadness. I had known it would be our last one, and it had broken my heart.
My mind jumped to researching memory charms and the Knockturn Alley bookstore. Our first trip there had been right after Christmas when I'd found out that the Australian healers were no longer going to check in and see if the charm had weakened over time. After I'd spoken to Lucius, my research had shifted as I tried to find a way to remove the memories rather than modify them.
Feeling restless again, I rose from the sofa and headed to the dining table, reaching for a half-empty journal to make a list of the snippets in time I wanted to show him. Before I could begin, I heard my Floo chime and he stepped through, his hair dishevelled and anxiety radiating off of him.
"I know I should've asked," he began, taking a few steps towards me, "but I needed to talk to you and I didn't want either of us to overthink it."
"Okay," I replied, unsure of what else to say or why he'd come.
His eyes jumped to the open journal and back to me. "Are you busy?"
I shook my head. "No, I was just... I was going to make a list of things I wanted you to see with me. You know, before I give you the entire trunk."
Glancing at the trunk, he sighed. "Can we talk?"
"Isn't that what we're doing now?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. "I suppose we are, but I want to discuss last night."
My stomach twisted, my buzz vanishing instantly with the flood of panic.
"I thought we weren't going to?" I said, my voice coming out with a tinge of hysteria.
He carded a hand through his hair again, adding to the messy look.
"You don't have to talk, but I have to say something," he began, coming even closer and settling a hand on my waist. "I'm not sure where we stand on the skin-to-skin contact."
"It's probably safer if we don't," I replied, even though I longed to feel his warmth against my arm, the curve of my neck, the side of my face as he cupped my jaw.
He swallowed hard, and I watched his throat move, my eyes nearly level with his Adam's apple.
"Are you as conflicted as I am right now?" he asked quietly.
I closed my eyes and heard him inhale sharply.
"I am," I murmured, temporarily dropping my guard. "Gods, I know I shouldn't be, but I am—"
"Hermione, look at me."
Slowly, my eyes fluttered open and I tilted my head back to comply.
"I want to touch you," he stated, as if it were the simplest request in the world.
His other hand moved up and brushed my hair away from my cheek. When I didn't pull away, he ran his hand over my curls again, making me lean into the touch. It was familiar and foreign at the same time; I'd nearly forgotten how it felt to have him this close. His breath ghosted over my skin and his hand settled on my shoulder, his thumb reaching down to graze my collarbone.
The contact sent lightning racing through my body and I knew he could sense the energy building between us. I was thankful for the t-shirt covering my skin. Even with it, I'd nearly moaned at the contact, stifling it at the last possible second.
"We shouldn't," I stated, though I didn't move.
His eyes closed and he said, "I know. Fuck, I know. I shouldn't be doing this."
"Doing what?"
"At the beginning of all this, you told me that all we do is hurt each other," Draco said, his hands reluctantly releasing me.
I missed the contact right away.
"I did," I admitted, even though it was likely to make him take a step back. "But Draco, I'd been hurting for years."
"That's exactly my point. I was never the man you deserved. I was too afraid to go after what I really wanted."
"Well, I haven't exactly done that since the war ended, either."
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. "But you — you didn't really get everything you'd ever wanted and then throw it all away."
"How do you know that?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. "How do you know you weren't everything I ever wanted?"
His eyes widened and his lips parted, but I shook my head, telling him I wasn't through talking.
"The love that we had — it was everything I ever dreamed of in a relationship. I also threw it all away, so you don't get to have a pity party all by yourself." At the end of the statement, my voice cracked, showing just how emotional I was. I felt the tears welling in my eyes, but I knew I had to keep going. "We both made mistakes and we never talked about the important things because we were so afraid of upsetting each other."
"Granger — Hermione — you know what I did was completely different. I should have seen a solicitor right after things started between us. Instead, I fucking waited until I'd slept with her again and made myself so sick I couldn't stand it—"
I shook my head. "Stop! We both need to move forwards. We can't keep being angry with our past selves because what's done is done. Yes, you should've left her earlier, and yes, I never should've taken your memories, but it's all over. It can't be changed, and we both know that we wouldn't change it now even if we could because it all led to Scorpius."
Draco was anxious and stressed; this conversation was more difficult than the others we'd had before.
"But I can't stop thinking about it. I can't forgive myself and I don't know how to move forwards."
Swallowing hard, I said, "Talk to me. What's going on?"
"I'm confused," he admitted, meeting my eyes fully. "Now that the anger's gone, I don't—It's getting harder to push down other... feelings."
My heart pounded in my chest and I could hear it in my ears, loud and thumping.
"I'm afraid that after we finish the memories, that'll be it. We won't see each other again—"
This time, I reached out, my hands wrapping around his forearms. The jolt shot through me, as strong and sure as ever, and I savoured it. He looked surprised, but I couldn't blame him. I'd been adamant that we shouldn't touch skin-to-skin, and the atmosphere between us was already highly charged.
"If you want to see me, then we can figure it out."
He started to raise his arms and my palms slid along them, eventually ending up against his. He laced the fingers of his hands through mine and said, "I definitely want to see you."
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Instead, we just stood there for a few more seconds, our hands linked between us.
"Then you will," I replied, smiling in what I hoped was a reassuring way. "After all we've been through, I think—"
"No," he interrupted. "Don't say anything else. Let's just — I want to finish the memories, and then we can talk. I need to know the rest. Everything you mentioned in your owl, I want to see it."
"Well, that should give us at least three more nights together."
"It doesn't feel like that's enough," he said quietly. "It seems as if everything has flown by now that I know it's almost over."
Shrugging, I slightly lifted our joined hands. "I don't get it, either. I was praying for time to speed up and now I almost want it to slow down again."
It was surreal.
"Can we see something tonight?" he asked tentatively. "I know we weren't supposed to, but I almost feel strange about missing a day."
Face flushing, I answered, "If we keep it T-rated, that's fine with me."
"T-rated?"
I laughed. "T means teen in the Muggle world. I'm just—I can't see myself watching Pensieve porn right now. It wouldn't be good."
"Ah, yeah, I agree. That would be a bad idea."
"How emotional do you want the memory to be?" I asked, trying to figure out what to show him.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't want to see my father's threats, and I'm guessing there's a lot of sex in the New York trip."
Closing my eyes, I brought forth an afternoon we'd spent in the bookstore in the spring — one before we'd found out about the pregnancy — and the evening after when he'd finally managed to conjure a Patronus. I held out my hand and summoned my wand to remove them and then opened my eyes.
Draco was watching me like I was going to vanish at any moment.
"What?" I asked, holding my wand steady, the fragile threads of memories dangling from it.
"Nothing," he responded. "I was just... I want to remember."
"You're going to. You could take everything right now if you really wanted to."
"Not those things. I want to remember this, too."
He was trying to kill me, testing every bit of my willpower. As always, his statement was simple, but there was likely a hidden meaning behind it, like when 'give me time' equated to 'I'm trying to get a divorce, but I don't want to get your hopes up'.
Inside my head, I was torn between telling him to leave and pulling him upstairs and into my bed. Even though it was wrong and we'd probably hurt each other again, I wanted to tell him that I needed him to be more than a memory, especially when he looked at me like that.
Holding back everything I wanted to say, I moved towards the Pensieve and he followed me, his eyes surely on my back. After I dropped the memories into the basin, I closed my eyes and started running my hands through my hair, working it up to the top of my head.
"There's a cluster of three freckles on the back of your neck. Did you know?"
I froze with my arms in mid-air. "You've mentioned it before. You used to trace over them all the time, basically whenever you could see them."
I didn't tell him that it was sometimes with his tongue, or that it was the silly little thing that I used to think of when I cast my Patronus. It had seemed like our own special little secret, and he'd usually murmur in my ear about how beautiful I was or how much he wanted me.
"Show me," he said, his hand landing on the small of my back. "Find a memory and add it in."
Moving the hairband from my wrist into my curls, I took a deep breath and thought, trying to find a non-naked time where he'd done it. It took Herculean effort to focus on anything but his hand on my back, but I somehow managed to do it.
"This is all going to feel a bit scattered," I told him, turning my head to face him. "I had a lot of wine this afternoon and my mind isn't exactly... normal."
Draco laughed. "I've spent plenty of afternoons with Pansy. I'm sure she encouraged it and pumped you for information."
I felt my face flush, but he didn't say anything else.
"Shall we? I don't think this will take very long."
He urged me forward, his hand still firmly in place. Since he'd started touching me, it had become almost second nature to him, like he suddenly remembered this was the way it had been between us. Or maybe it was simply muscle memory.
When I grazed the surface of the memory, I tumbled forward, landing on the floor of the Knockturn Alley bookstore with Draco not far behind me.
Memory Draco and memory Hermione were in the endless rows of bookshelves, their fingers dancing along the spines of books, taking in the titles.
"I can't believe he doesn't have a specific section on memory modification," memory Hermione huffed, pulling a book from the shelf since its spine hadn't been labelled.
Settling a hand on her shoulder, memory Draco squeezed. "There aren't a lot of books specifically dealing with Memory Charms. They're just lumped in with mind magic most of the time."
"Well, there should be more research available! We've been modifying the memories of Muggles for centuries, and no one's bothered to look into it?" she began, flipping a few pages to take in the contents of the book. "When I went to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys the summer before fourth year, the Muggle who gave us our campsite had his memory modified multiple times a day! It's absolutely ridiculous!"
Present Draco shuddered and I turned to him. "What's wrong?"
"Quidditch World Cup," he stated, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It was supposed to be a family outing, and my father used it to... Well, you know. Too much firewhisky and then he disappeared."
"Oh," I said quietly. "Right. I didn't think—"
"It's fine, Hermione. It was a long time ago," he reassured, focusing on our memory selves once more.
"I don't know why there isn't anything—"
Memory Hermione cut him off. "Because wizards don't care what happens to Muggles, so long as we keep our world a secret. Not that the Muggles could've missed the way Britain changed when Voldemort was in charge."
Memory Draco's hand dropped away from her shoulder and he turned away, pretending to look at another bookshelf. He didn't answer her, but I could see the pain written across his face. I remembered how angry I'd been after receiving the letter from the Australian healers, and I'd been taking it out on him.
"Honestly, I should've looked into it more before I Obliviated my parents, but I thought there had to be a way to reverse it. I thought someone more powerful than me would be able to fix this," she continued, not realising that memory Draco was struggling. "But I didn't think they'd be modifying memories multiple times a day if it hadn't been studied extensively!"
"Granger," memory Draco said, trying to draw her attention. "I'm sure we're going to find something here. It's just a bit more complicated than looking for a book that only covers Memory Charms. Those aren't readily available to the public for obvious reasons."
Turning, she leaned back against the shelf she'd been searching, her eyes boring into memory Draco's back. She realised what she'd said and why he wasn't looking at her.
"Draco."
"Yes?" he replied, looking at the same shelf he had been for the last minute but not taking any of the books down.
Memory Hermione moved towards him and snaked her arms around his waist. "You know I didn't mean to—"
"I do," he answered quietly. "It doesn't make it any easier to remember sometimes."
"When was this?" present Draco asked, looking around for a visual cue.
"Somewhere between Valentine's Day and your anniversary," I answered, going back in my own memories. "The healers sent me a letter a week or so after Christmas, and you insisted that we could figure out how to fix their memories. You'd already been pushing me towards it, so I'd been thinking about researching it more thoroughly. Since the war, I'd already exhausted the library at Grimmauld Place and been to Hogwarts several times, nevermind consulting with several different healers both in Britain and Australia."
Once again, his hands found the tops of my arms, settling over the sleeves of my shirt.
"There aren't enough apologies in the world for everything my family has ever done to you," present Draco said. "Between our actions during the war, the way I treated you, the way my father threatened you..."
I didn't know what to say — it wasn't okay, but I didn't want to make him feel worse than he already did. I just nodded and turned my attention back to the memory, forcing him to let go of my arms.
Memory Hermione's forehead pressed into the space between memory Draco's shoulder blades and she held him tightly. "I'm upset with myself more than anything. You know that, right?"
"Of course I do," he answered, his hands settling over hers on his abdomen. "I know you, Hermione, but it doesn't change the fact that you wouldn't have Obliviated your parents if not for people like mine."
"You never wanted to be like them. I know that now," she said, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I brought that all to the forefront for you."
He pivoted, turning to face her, and wrapped his arms around her. "I know, but I'll never stop trying to make up for it. You know that, right?"
"Well, I think you've done more than enough to redeem yourself in the eyes of the wizarding world," memory Hermione stated, her hand settling along the curve of his jaw. She brushed her thumb along his lower lip and he moved forward quickly, managing to capture it between his teeth playfully. She laughed and used her free hand to pull him down. "Let go and I'll kiss you."
Releasing her thumb, he said, "Right here? Where anyone can see us?"
Again, she raised up on her tiptoes. "If you're okay with it."
He leaned down, closing the remaining distance and kissing her hard. When they broke apart, he said, "I'm always willing to kiss you, Hermione."
There were stars in her eyes, and it was obvious that he was just as invested in her.
"I love you," she said, making him smile.
He waited a moment, just to tease her, and then said, "I love you, too."
The sound of someone clearing their throat made memory Hermione and Draco jump apart and they turned to see the shop owner standing at the end of the aisle.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," he began, his eyes bouncing between the two of them, "but I might be able to help. I have some contacts with copies of out-of-print books, both within England and abroad."
Memory Hermione's face was beet red, but she didn't turn away.
"Oh?" memory Draco replied, his eyes lighting up. "And you're willing to help us?"
The man looked between the two of them, taking in their guilty faces. Memory Draco stepped closer to memory Hermione again, boldly throwing his arm around her shoulders.
"Yes, Mr Malfoy. I'm willing to help you."
The scenery around us changed abruptly and then we were in the little house we'd rented on the Amalfi Coast the weekend before Draco's birthday. Our memory selves were standing on the balcony shoulder to shoulder, looking out over the Mediterranean Sea.
"This place is nice," present Draco stated, turning to take in the entirety of our surroundings. "Italy?"
I nodded. "Somewhere near Sorrento. It was a lovely weekend."
"I bet," he replied, taking my hand and squeezing it, making me feel warm all over again.
"I have something to show you," memory Draco said conversationally, drawing her attention.
She turned her head. "Oh? What is it?"
Memory Draco took a step back and drew his wand, a smile on his face. A moment later, he cast his Patronus. The miniature version of a dragon sailed out of the tip and immediately glided over to memory Hermione, eager to meet her.
"Oh! You've done it!" she exclaimed, her wide eyes following the little dragon's progress.
Present Draco snorted. "You know, I was expecting some great big dragon, like a Hungarian Horntail."
"Why?" I asked.
"Potter said it was a dragon. I wasn't expecting it to be the size of one of Scorpius' stuffed animals."
"Well, Harry would've recognised a Hungarian Horntail anywhere," I teased. "Besides, I thought this little dragon suited you."
With a scowl, he looked away, focusing on the memory again.
Memory Draco watched memory Hermione interact with the dragon, smiling even more.
"When?" she asked, taking her wand out and casting her own Patronus.
The dragon and the otter immediately scampered off to the side, chasing each other in turn.
"Earlier this week," he replied.
"And you didn't tell me?"
Shrugging, he said, "Seemed like it would be a good surprise for this weekend."
"Definitely! It's so wonderful!" Crossing the patio in a handful of strides, she threw her arms around him and their Patronuses somehow glowed even brighter, though they paid them no attention. "What memory did you use?"
Memory Draco's arms enveloped her and he nuzzled through the messy curls, bringing his lips to her neck. "Just you. As long as I focus on a really, really happy moment with you, it's as if everything else falls away."
"But you tried that in Paris," she said, pulling away so they could make eye contact. "What changed?"
With a sigh, he said, "I feel more hopeful that this will all work out now."
She smiled and kissed him. "I've no doubt it will."
Those words were like a punch to the gut; both present Draco and I knew that our world would come crashing down around us only days later.
Thankfully, the scenery changed again and I glanced over at present Draco. "This is from my birthday in Mykonos."
He nodded. "I recognise the house from the other memory."
Memory Hermione was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, piling her curls high on the top of her head. The emerald green sundress she was wearing had been one of my favourites, and I remembered packing it simply because I thought he would like it too.
In the background, we could hear the shower running, droplets hitting the tiled floor and glass enclosure. Memory Hermione started putting on mascara to her lashes, alternating between her eyes to apply more than one coat. As she opened her lipstick, the water shut off and the shower door slid open. Memory Draco stepped out and his reflection appeared in the mirror. While he towelled off, she glanced at him, smiling to herself. She swiped the red lipstick over both her lips and then pressed them together, blending the colour before reaching for a tissue to blot.
With the towel wrapped around his waist, he moved towards her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
"Gorgeous," he began, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "I love your hair down, but I enjoy being able to kiss you"—his lips travelled down her neck with three quick brushes—"right here unencumbered."
She hummed with pleasure. "That's definitely a benefit."
"Did you know," he began, running a finger over the back of her neck, "that you have a cluster of freckles right here?"
As he traced them, her eyes fluttered shut and her breath hitched. "I didn't."
"Well, you do," memory Draco said, his mouth moving to the place his fingers had just been running over. "I like to think it's something that only I've ever noticed."
"And when did you notice them?" she asked, her arm winding up to tangle in his wet hair.
He smiled against her skin. "That's for me to know, Granger. I need to keep some secrets."
"You have plenty of secrets, Malfoy."
"Not from you," he whispered, nipping at her earlobe.
Present Draco interrupted the memory again. "I noticed them in Potions back at Hogwarts. You'd put your hair up when it was hot in the dungeon and, well, I saw them."
Meeting his eyes, I gave him a smile, unsure of what to say.
"It feels strange, you know," he continued. "I can remember that like it was yesterday, but…"
"That was intentional," I admitted, my face heating with embarrassment. "I knew I had to leave those memories. There were too many unknowns about Hogwarts for me."
"I'm glad you did. Those little things that I could remember, they helped bring me back to you."
He didn't wait for me to reply, just waved his hand and restarted the memory.
Directing him back to her neck, she pressed her arse back against his groin. "There's plenty I don't know about you."
"Well, I'm sure you know more than most people and could probably guess the rest." Memory Draco tried to pull away. When she held firm to his hair, he continued, "And we're not going to waste that dress staying in. We're keeping the reservation, which means you need to stop tempting me."
Memory Hermione sighed. "If you insist."
"I do insist. I want to take you on a proper date."
Releasing him, she let her arms fall to her sides for a moment before wrapping them around her waist just above his. "We can't—"
He shushed her. "We can, and we're going to. We're in a different country so you don't have to worry about being seen with me."
"I think you have that backwards," she replied, arching an eyebrow. "You're the married one. Not me."
"I'm not worried about it," he said, shrugging it off. "I'd take you out anywhere."
"Well, this little snippet just reiterates that I was a selfish prick," present Draco said, running his fingers through his fringe.
I smiled weakly. "Don't focus on that. We've already talked about it tonight."
Memory Hermione turned to face memory Draco and his hands settled at the small of her back.
"I know, but that's not possible," she told him. "We can't do it at home."
Expression guarded, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and released her. As soon as he'd walked away, she let out the breath she'd been holding and blinked away the tears that had formed in her eyes, a tissue in hand.
"I wanted to tell you that I'd love to go out at home," I said, pointedly looking at my past self. "I was holding back, even then."
"Hermione—"
"I mean it. From the beginning, I tried to hide it all from you."
"That doesn't make what I did right."
The self-loathing in his tone tugged at my heartstrings; since the beginning of the memories, his whole demeanour had changed. His anger had turned inward, entirely directed at himself. "By now, I think we both understand more than anyone else that things aren't always black and white. There are shades of grey in everything."
We tumbled from the Pensieve and into my living room before he could answer.
When we landed, he took a few steps away from me, putting distance between us, and I let him. I understood how he felt and that he needed the space.
"Do you have any firewhisky?" he asked, looking longingly towards the kitchen. "I just, I'm so angry with myself."
"I think we both know that's not the best thing to add to this mix," I replied, gesturing between us. "Don't you remember how the affair started?"
"I should go," Draco stated, making no attempt to move towards the Floo or the door.
"You can if you really want to, but there's something else I want to show you."
While we'd been watching the Patronus memory, I had wanted to cast mine, to show him that I now had his Patronus.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to centre himself. I gave him space and waited for him to prompt me.
"Okay, Granger," he said, and I didn't point out that he'd switched to my surname when he'd been calling me Hermione all night. He was trying to put distance between us again. "What else do you think I should see tonight?"
In my mind, I pictured his lips on my neck, his arms wrapped around my waist. I pictured the Mediterranean sun reflecting off of blue water and making his hair look even lighter than it was. I pictured us walking to dinner, our hands linked together, acting like we didn't have a care in the world.
Waving my wand, I cried, " Expecto Patronum! "
As soon as he saw the dragon, his eyes widened and he cast as well, showing me the otter. When he noticed I wasn't surprised to see it, he asked, "You knew?"
I nodded. "Harry told me when he saw mine had shifted."
"And when was that?" Draco asked.
"The night Blaise left," I answered honestly. "I can't remember casting in the time that passed between the memory I showed you tonight and then, so I've no idea when it shifted."
"It had to be when you Obliviated me."
"That was my first thought after the initial shock and upset had worn off."
"I'm assuming Potter told you that mine had already shifted when Scorp was born?"
"Yes, he did." When I saw he was still somewhat shell-shocked, I continued, "And then I thought it was... nice."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Nice?"
"Yes," I began. "It felt like no matter what had happened between us, I'd had a piece of you with me all along."
He didn't say anything and I felt the nervous energy building inside of me. I knew he was thinking and turning every little bit of information over in his mind, but it still made me uneasy. I started rifling through the trunk, even though I didn't know what I was looking for specifically. It kept my hands busy and allowed me to work off some of the jitters.
Draco slumped into the armchair in the sitting room and braced his elbows on his knees, leaning forwards and covering his face.
For the past week, he'd been the one comforting me, but I wasn't sure if I should return the gesture; he wasn't always the most accepting of help. Tentatively, I made my way over to him and laid my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it.
"What's going through your mind?" I asked, crouching down so I was on his level.
He snorted a laugh. "At the beginning of all this, you told me that all we did was hurt each other. I think it's more honest to say that I just hurt you over and over again."
"You need to keep in mind that I haven't shown you every little thing between us. These memories, they're a fraction of our relationship. Just a small portion."
"Are you holding back things that make you look bad?" he asked, but I could tell he didn't think I was.
"Not intentionally, but I assure you that there were plenty of days where I was not very nice to you."
He looked up at me. "Well, I can't really blame you for that, now can I? I acted like you were all that mattered to me, and then when it came down to it, I couldn't give you what you needed. I never—"
"You were trying to get a divorce, Draco. We know that now."
"Yes, a year after everything started between us. I'm a really great guy."
"Stop," I said. "The past is the past, and there's nothing to be done about it now. We've already talked about this tonight—"
"No, Hermione. You need to stop being so kind to me and apologising because I did more wrong than right when it comes to you," he answered, clearly angry with himself more than anyone or anything else.
"Maybe, but what I did — just removing everything from your mind — that was wrong, too."
He sighed. "I feel like I just keep going back and forth between anger and acceptance and..."
"And?" I prompted.
"Hope. Sometimes, I'm so hopeful that all of this will work itself out. And then I see things like that and I'm just reminded that I don't deserve the happy ending."
For just a moment, I forgot how to breathe and my mind went entirely blank. He still wanted a happy ending, even after everything.
Without warning, he stood up and my hand slid down the length of his arm, finding its way into his. He pulled me to my feet and, despite his mood, he didn't let go.
Summoning a little bit of my forgotten bravery, I raised my free hand to his cheek and he leaned into the touch the way he had so many times before.
"Listen to me," I began, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I made the choice to stay with you through all of that. I chose you, and maybe you should've attempted to get a divorce long before you actually did, but you did choose me, too. Over and over again. You spent nearly all of your time with me, and that was enough for a while, so I didn't push you."
He didn't say anything, but he didn't pull away, either.
"I know you're angry with yourself, but I don't have it in me to be mad at you. Not anymore," I told him. "My anger burned out a long time ago."
"Hermione," he said quietly, opening his eyes, "you should hate me for the way I treated you."
I felt tears welling in my eyes again, and I struggled to hold them back. "I tried to. It didn't work."
A laugh escaped him, even though he hadn't been smiling
"I suppose I know what you mean. I thought I'd never forgive you at the beginning of all this."
When I took my hand off his face, I felt something straining inside of me. Our hands were still joined between us, but I hadn't really wanted to break contact. We'd been so close, and now I was putting distance between us again.
It was for the best; he wasn't thinking straight tonight. If anything happened between us, he would panic and run, thinking that he'd taken advantage of me or something foolish like that.
Tonight, I seemed to be the one who was level-headed and rational. Our roles had reversed, and I was happy to repay him the kindness he'd been showing me all week.
"I should probably go," Draco said, looking towards the Floo. "I'm not sure when Astoria was coming home, and if Scorpius is still awake when she gets there, I want to put him to bed."
I started to release his hand and he held tighter.
"It's okay," I told him. "You should be there for him. We weren't planning on spending time together tonight."
With a deep breath, he released my hand and stepped back. "But I'll see you tomorrow?"
"If you still want to."
Moving forwards, he wrapped his arms around me in an embrace. "Of course I want to."
My whole body shivered at the contact and, when he felt it, he held me tighter.
"I don't want to let go," he murmured, his face burrowing into my hair the way it always used to.
"You have to," I told him, even though I felt like I was home for the first time in years. The scent of his skin was still the same as it had been before, and his warmth enveloped me, seeping down to my bones. "Scorpius—"
"I know," Draco said, reluctantly pulling away. His hands smoothed along my arms, prolonging contact for as long as possible.
When I looked into his eyes, they were darker. His restraint was wavering just as much as mine was.
"You need to go."
With a nod, he finally released me and I immediately felt the void that he'd left behind open up in me once more.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he stated, turning and heading towards the Floo. "Oh, and Granger?"
"Yes?"
"I want to see New York City."
Author's Note: Next chapter will post on July 17th.
My muse has woken up after about 4 months of hibernation on this story, so hopefully it will be wrapped up soon.
Thank you all for reading!