Hermione ran towards the library. She wasn't sure why she hadn't headed straight to the floo, back home and away from the manor But she'd always sought out books for comfort, finding solace in stories under the covers as a child or hiding in the back corner of the Hogwarts library. As soon as she closed the door, she sank to the floor and began to sob.
She replayed the conversation again and again in her head, trying to organize her thoughts about Narcissa, about her father, about her mother. Hermione's heart was pounding as she plucked a thought to focus on.
"Harper," she whispered, trying to remember everything Narcissa had said about her clever friend. Her hand flew to her earlobes, wishing she'd worn the over-the-top diamonds today, the only piece of her biological mother she had. Now that she had a name and had heard stories about her, she wasn't sure what to think of her biological mother. Confusion, anger, and pity swirled around her, but a wave of grief crashed over that, drowning them out. She'd lost someone she never knew, and a live she'd never lived.
Hermione cursed herself for her naivety, for the hope that had wormed itself back into her heart after Harry told her about the mystery woman asking to see her daughter. She had tried to push it out of her mind because logically she knew it was just some reporter trying to find out why she'd been in the hospital. But some part of her had taken hold of the idea that she had a parent out there, alive and conscious who cared for her. It's what she'd wanted ever since she wiped her parents' minds.
"Stupid," Hermione muttered, hugging her knees to her chest. She replayed that part of the conversation over in her head. As she'd talked about the hospital, Narcissa's brows had become so furrowed that wrinkles appeared on her forehead for the first time since Hermione became reacquainted with her. She had looked so emotional, so unlike herself.
The revelation that Narcissa was actually her Godmother resurfaced in Hermione's brain. Hermione shifted back against the bookshelf, letting her head rest against it. Suddenly Narcissa's attention, her comments, her immediate acceptance made more sense. It wasn't about her blood, not in the way she originally thought anyway. It was about being a family.
"I have a family," she whispered to herself, thinking of the parents she'd left behind. They'd raised her, and loved her. They'd changed her, and taught her to read, and cheered her on in her spelling bees. They'd gotten on board with magic, and listened to every detail about the foreign world she'd shared. They were her parents.
"And you've abandoned them," she scolded herself bitterly, the tears coming out faster now.
"Hermione," Draco called, his heavy footsteps pounding down the hallway outside. She buried her head in her arms, clutching her knees close. She heard the door creak open.
"Are you okay?" Draco asked, voice thick with tension. "Hermione?" he repeated with soft urgency, as he dropped to his knees before her. She glanced up, meeting his gaze as she wiped her face. His gray eyes flashed like the cold metal of shackles, chaining her and bringing her back from the emotional freefall.
"No," Hermione said. Draco leaned forward and wrapped her in his arms, holding her.
"I'm sorry," Draco murmured into her hair, his breath hot just above her ear. "I promise I had no idea about any of it." He pulled back to look at her, determination on his face. "I'm sorry about your mother, if I had known…" he trailed off.
As she studied his face, she realized that he shouldn't have been so surprised at how comfortable she was in his arms, how his touch brought her immediate relief. When she'd seen him crying earlier that day, it had been like the last lost puzzle piece, finally recovered, fitting into place and showing the full picture. She had feelings for him, but mixed in with the rest of the new information of the day, any clarity had been lost to the emotional fog unleashed by the older Malfoys.
Hermione's eyes dropped to his lips, which were pressed into a line. She didn't want to think anymore, her usually organized mind a muddled mess. Draco was her only tether, keeping her grounded with his touch. In search of more solace, she launched herself forward and brushed her mouth against his. A muffled noise of surprise escaped his mouth before his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her in closer. She grabbed his shoulders for balance and kissed him deeply, wanting to forget everything for just a moment.
Spice enveloped her as she breathed him in, and the world around them fell away. He tasted like earl gray tea and winter, all mixed in with the salt from her tears. Draco groaned into her mouth, and his kisses became hungrier. His hands roamed down, cupping her arse. She slid her hands into his moonlight hair, and relished the kiss, better than her cloudy memory of their kiss the night of the ball. This was what she'd wanted to do earlier, when she found him in the hallway of the Ministry; kiss away his tears.
"Oh shit." The muttered sentence broke them apart and Hermione looked up to find Theo staring at them sheepishly. "Er, sorry I just got your message and came over. I'm just going to..." he said as he backed away, aiming for the door.
"Wait," Hermione called. "Wait," she repeated, reality coming back into focus. She glanced up at Draco, who was standing again, running his hand through his hair, cheeks flushed pink. He was looking nervously at Theo. Hermione wondered if he was just embarrassed to be caught, or if he hadn't known how to tell her he wasn't interested. She stood, patting Draco's forearm hesitantly, hoping he wouldn't recoil. Thankfully, he only turned to her and gave a small grin.
"We called you here for a reason."
"Exhibitionism?" Theo quipped lightly. When neither of them responded, he frowned. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"We need to tell you some things," Draco started with a sigh. As Draco repeated the story of Hermione's biological mother to Theo, Hermione's mind wandered again to the parents who raised her. While she may not know what spell was used, knowing that a memory spell was used when she was placed with her parents and that it was house-elf magic could help the Healers figure out how to help her parents. This was a start.
Theo's clipped laugh caught her attention.
"Of course Father did," Theo said bitterly, sneering at the ground. "That's why he taught me the curse. He thought it was funny." Theo grimaced. "And then I turned around and used it on him. Who's laughing now?" Theo pulled Hermione into a hug. "I'm sorry Hermione." She nodded absently, still working over the information from earlier.
"We can just ask the house elf," she said, breaking away and facing Draco. "Shouldn't they be able to answer everything?"
"Sorry?" Theo asked, looking at Draco. "What is she talking about?"
"The house elf, the one Lucius used to wipe their memories," Hermione answered for Draco. "We can find them and ask them about the specifics, make sure we give the doctors all the details. I can start in on research and maybe we'll have a shot at restoring my parents' memories."
"We can," Draco responded slowly, leveling a pointed look at Theo.
"We can try," Theo echoed, pasting on that smile he used when he was trying to be upbeat about something.
"What do you mean we can try?" Hermione asked, looking between the two of them. "This should be simple. The elf was...employed by your father, correct? I'm sure we can find them now that they are free." As she spoke, Draco cringed, avoiding her eyes. "What am I missing?"
"I doubt my father left the elf alive," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll start with Tippy and see what we can do."
"You think he killed an elf….because of me?" Hermione whispered. Disgust ripped through her, vibrating through every part of her body. Her stomach dropped. "He killed an elf because of me," she said, bile burning in her throat.
"Hold on," Theo said, stepping in front of her. "That's not your fault."
"I need to go," Hermione interrupted, stalking back to the floo. She needed to get back to her parents, to fix this. Enough lives had been ruined because of her birth; she didn't want the topic to derail anything else. There wasn't time to waste. "I'll talk to you later."
"Sure," Draco called out as she walked through the door. "I'll start talking to the house elves."
She waved over her shoulder, forcing herself not to turn around.
Once she arrived at Nott Manor, she ran upstairs, to her giant room in this giant house that felt unfamiliar again. As she packed the few belongings she had brought with her, she replayed the kiss again and again, getting angrier at herself each time. She'd let herself get sidetracked by Draco Malfoy.
"Are you okay?" Theo asked from the doorway. "This was a lot for you to take in today."
"Yes," Hermione said, though she wasn't entirely sure. "I need to go tell the Healers and see if this new information changes anything with my parents. This could be the breakthrough we've been looking for."
"Don't go yet," he said, approaching her slowly. "Let me and Draco do some digging, we can help you. Maybe Potter could use his connections."
"I've left them for too long; I got caught up in all of this," she said, gesturing to the opulent room around them. "I was so focused on my new family, I neglected to help my parents. I should've gone back there immediately."
"Beating yourself up isn't going to change anything." He sat down on her bed, next to her bag. "You were here looking for answers, doing the right thing. Just because you didn't find the ones you wanted doesn't mean it was a waste of time."
"I suppose so," she replied, sitting down next to him. "You are never a waste of time, Theo Nott. Finding a brother was the best thing that's happen to me since the war ended. And I'm glad we found out who my mother was, and our father's involvement…" she trailed off, looking down in her lap. "But I still need to go."
"So you're leaving then?" Theo asked, hurt in his voice.
"Not forever," Hermione said, looking back at him. "I never intended to stay this long. I need to go help my parents - that's been my priority for a long time."
"What about Draco?"
"What about Draco," she wondered internally. Hermione shrugged, unwilling to unscrew the cap on her feelings about him now. Not yet.
"He'll understand," she said, unsure who she was trying to convince. "He knows how important my parents are to me. And he'll write to me if he finds anything out from the house elves."
In reality, Hermione was still processing. Processing her feelings about Draco and the revelations about the circumstances of her birth. She couldn't afford any distractions, no matter how comforting they might be. Hermione was meant to be the one who could fix things, and she was going to fix this.
"So we're just going to pretend like I didn't get roped into your little peep show earlier?" he asked in a sing-songy voice. When she ignored him, he sighed. "Fine. I'll leave you to pack. Let me escort you to the Ministry at least, to say goodbye."
"That would be lovely," she replied, pulling him in for a hug. "I understand now," she whispered. "I know who he was, what he did to both of our mothers."
Theo stayed silent, but squeezed her tight. "I'll be in my study, whenever you're ready."
After he left, Hermione deflated, collapsing onto her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, wondering if she was being rash, and if it made more sense to stay for a few days, researching before heading back to Australia.
"No," she said to herself, voice echoing in the big room. "You can research there." Before she could let her resolve die and avoid her problems by running back into Draco Malfoy's arms, she stood, grabbing her bag and walking downstairs.
"Theo! Ready when you are!" she called, setting her luggage down in front of the fireplace. Ahead of her the floo lit up, and Draco walked out of the green flames.
"You're here!" Draco said, relief palpable. He carded a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath. "Tippy gave me everything she knew about her...late cousin," he said reluctantly, his face screwing up as he said the last words, watching her reaction. When she gave none, Draco held up a piece of paper. "It's not perfect, but it's a start." He glanced down at her bag. "Are you...leaving?"
"Yes," Hermione said, wondering if she imagined the hint of disappointment in his voice.
The pair of them stared at each other, and Draco huffed out a sigh.
"Listen," Draco started, "about earlier -"
"I'm sorry," Hermione interrupted, anxiety rising in her chest. "I kissed you again."
"Please don't apologize," he said, grabbing her hand. "I've been wanting to do that for quite some time now, I think. After the ball," Draco paused, looking intently at her. Under his gaze, her chest tightened, like she couldn't breathe. "Well, after the kiss, I couldn't stop thinking of you. I thought you hated me, then I found out the lust potion was made with Jobberknoll feathers and I realized that maybe I wasn't alone in how I felt."
Hermione stared at him, processing the words. "Jobberknoll feathers," she repeated, thinking about the things she'd said to him under the influence of the potion. "The potion had Jobberknoll feathers?"
"Yes, they have a -"
"A reaction with the mother of pearl in lust potions," she cut him off. "So I…" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and chewed her lip, thinking through it. That combination would've made her unable to stop from sharing any true feelings of attraction she felt. Even though she hadn't known it then, the potion and her embarrassing display was proof that she cared for him the night of the ball. Before that even, maybe. "And you.." she trailed off again, looking into the steel pools of his eyes.
"Did the DMLE not tell you about that yet?" he asked, confused. "I sent my analysis to Potter, I thought he'd have explained it by now."
"No," she said, shaking her head. That overwhelming anxiety from earlier was returning, and she blinked back tears. She couldn't have another breakdown in front of him - she was Hermione Granger, known for using her brain to fix any issue. "But Draco, we don't have time to sort all this out now. We can -"
"Just listen." He stepped closer and cleared his throat. "I've had something to say for a while now. Being near you is like finding the North Star on a clear night. You're brilliant and intense and no matter how hard I try, my eyes just keep coming back to you alone." Draco huffed out a breath and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back down at her. "You're the brightest light in a sea of stars. I don't want to stop looking - I like you, Hermione. A lot."
Hermione felt a warmth spread through her chest as a smile broke out on her face.
"I think I'd better leave the poetry to Theo," he added, ears tinged that pink Hermione liked.
"No, that was perfect," she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. "It was beautiful, thank you."
Before she could kiss him, the sound of the floo behind them broke them apart.
"Hermione!" Blaise greeted with a smug grin. "Just the witch I was looking for. And Draco! I have to say thank you," he said as he pulled her in for a kiss on each cheek.
"You're welcome? Though I'm not sure what I did," she said, trying to think of anything she'd done lately that he'd be happy about.
"You don't have to play coy with me. Theo sent me an owl earlier and told me that -"
"Blaise!" Theo said, rushing into the room. "Hermione has an issue with her parents right now so she is leaving town to go visit them. It's very serious."
"I see," Blaise said, the smug look dropping off his face. "When you said out of town, I assumed it was something else." Blaise looked back at her with sympathy. "Well then, the gloating can wait. I'm so sorry Hermione."
"Gloating," Hermione echoed, cocking her head to the side.
"It's nothing important," Theo said, handing Blaise a small pouch. She caught Draco glaring at the bag before sneering at his two best friends. "Just lost a bet."
"Several years in the making," Blaise teased. "I hope to see you soon, Hermione. And anything you need, you just owl me."
"Thank you," she said as he disappeared through the floo. She glanced at Theo, who looked sheepish. "I don't have the energy. Explain whatever stupid bet you lost when I get back."
"When will that be?" Draco asked, turning to her with a frown. "How long will you be gone?"
"I'm not sure," she said, looking down at her bag. "But we can write," she added weakly as she picked up her bag. Her heart ached as she watched his grimace grow; she wanted to kiss it away.
"Wait." Draco's hand grasped her arm, tugging her gently. "Do you want company?" Draco asked, eyes boring into her as she turned around.
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to," Draco said, voice rough as he spoke.
"I- I'd like that," Hermione said after a moment, hoping she was making the right choice. "Thank you."
Draco's mouth split into a grin, a genuine one, and Hermione felt herself smiling back, her stomach lurching with anticipation.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Theo asked, shattering the moment. "It's time to save your parents!"
Hermione hugged Theo before grabbing Draco's hand and her bag. Together they walked through the floo to the Ministry, Australia-bound.
After days of doctors appointments and personal research, Hermione sat between her parents' beds listening to the experts telling her the new information wasn't enough to make a difference. Draco sat next to her, alternating between reading a book on elf magic and scribbling in a notebook.
He'd been quiet for most of their time in Australia, lost in his own mind. Hermione had found it endearing to watch him, to know that this man who teased her for being a swot could get so caught up in his thoughts and in research.
It'd been draining being back. She'd forgotten about her the endless beeping of the diagnostic spells, her parents, frozen in time, and the feeling of helplessness. Hermione hated the feeling of not knowing; she had her whole life. That's why she turned to books as a child, to never feel powerless like this.
Across from them, a tall Healer in his fifties reviewed her mother's chart, a frown on his face.
"I'm sorry Miss Granger, there's nothing we can do right now," the Healer said. Healer Johnson, she thought, though the names had begun to blur together from lack of sleep. "We'll need more time to work through the new information. I know you were hoping for more."
"Right," she said, blowing out a frustrated breath. "Nothing we can do." Hermione looked at her parents, their pale faces expressionless. She missed her mother's smile, her father's laughter. Even their lives as the Wilkes was better than being magically frozen, stuck between life and death.
"I've been selfish," she whispered to herself, leaning forward to grab her mother's hand. "Trying to get them back. I always knew it was a possibility that I wouldn't."
"Hermione," Draco started, touching her forearm. "Are you okay?"
She pulled away and set her jaw, irritation flaring at the question. He'd been asking it since they'd gotten here, constantly. She wasn't okay, nor would asking it make her feel okay. Ignoring him, Hermione looked to the Healer.
"Could you safely restore their memories as the Wilkes?" she asked the Healer. "They've been here long enough."
"We could do that," Healer Johnson said carefully, looking at the charts. "But I can't guarantee that we'd be able to restore their memories in the future."
"Do it," Hermione said with a sharp nod. She swallowed the lump in her throat, the disappointment in herself, the bitter failure. But those were all distractions; when she'd removed her parents' memories years ago, it had been for good reason. She needed to find that same strength she had then and focus on her parents' safety.
"Are you sure?" Draco whispered, features frozen as his eyes studied her. She glared at him.
"It's okay, Draco," she said, staring at her parents. "I'm fine."
"Hermione," he said, reaching for her. "I've been working on -"
"Just go," she said, taking a step away, eyes still on her parents. "I think the Malfoys have done enough here, don't you?" She willed herself not to look at him, unwilling to see the impact of the harsh words. Hermione knew she was being unfair, illogical, but she needed to lash out. After years of research, she had nothing to show for it. In the last few months, she'd allowed herself to hope. Draco and Theo had helped her hope, and for what? Disappointment sat deep in her gut and no solution.
The door clicked closed and she was alone again, listening to the rhythmic breathing in symphony on each side of her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking between the pair of them. "I'm so sorry." She groaned, looking to Draco's empty seat next to her. On top of the book he'd been studying, there was the small notebook he'd been writing in all week.
The temptation was too strong, so she snatched it and opened it to the last page.
"Memory potion field notes," she read aloud, fingers grazing his elegant penmanship. Below it, he'd recorded the behaviors he'd seen in her parents, discussions with the Healers, and possible potion ingredients that could interact positively with her parents' unique condition. There were several items he'd flagged from Tippy, all marked with a little star.
"Oh, Draco," Hermione whispered, flipping back through the notes again. He'd been working this whole week, trying to invent his own potion to give her her parents back. Guilt bubbled up, coating the harshness that had come from the back of her throat. "What did I do?"
The tears began to flow again.