"What's got you so upbeat?" Potter shook his head with a snicker. "Another date or something?"

Draco froze, cocked a brow, and frowned at him. "What is it with you? You suppose if you just keep asking if I've got a date, eventually I'll have a date, and you can say you're right?" He stowed his wand in its holster. "Presuming, of course, that I'll actually tell you if I do."

"Malfoy, you mope around the department ninety-five percent of the time." Potter scrunched his face up in concentration. "But recently you've been considerably brighter. Excuse me for noticing."

The words resonated oddly in Draco's skull, especially since his mother had been in the hospital going on five days now. A shard of guilt stabbed him through the stomach. But he only cocked a brow. "Maybe it's seasonal."

Although he rolled his eyes, Potter didn't press. "How is your mother doing, by the way?"

"The same." Draco blew out a breath. "I went to St Mungo's at lunch to visit her. Doped out on potions and halfway coherent. The healers have begun looking into more obscure causes―potential curses that might have flared up."

The grimace on Potter's face embodied how Draco felt about the idea as well. Blood curses were never a good route to have to consider and rarely ended well.

"I hope for her sake and yours that isn't the case," Potter mused.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" Draco snickered, and the words didn't carry any of the intended levels of derision, but the question had been bothering him all the same. Although now that he knew of Potter's interest in Theo, the fact that he'd spent the bulk of Saturday at the hospital with the two of them didn't come across quite as altruistic.

Still, Potter's face faltered. "Your mum saved my life, Malfoy. Unless you've forgotten about that. Sure, it was in exchange for information about you, but I'll never forget it."

Draco caught his gaze for a moment, and something settled a little deeper between them before he nodded. "I suppose so. Either way, I appreciate your support this past week."

"Of course." A sincere smile pulled at Potter's lips, and for a moment, Draco wondered if he might one day consider the man a friend; it was a bizarre thought. "And just in case you were wondering, I have a date."

"There it is," Draco huffed. "You just wanted me to admit I don't have a date so you could wave in my face that you've got one." He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Obviously, the owl went over well, then."

A bit of a shrug lifted Potter's shoulders. "We're seeing one another Friday."

"It is fucking weird that I'm hearing about this from you and not Theo." Draco clicked his tongue, thinking he ought to admonish Theo, but he hadn't even been home the night before to receive any Floo calls. "And I suppose with Theo's only living parent in Azkaban, I'll have to be the one to tell you that if you hurt him, I'll break your neck."

Potter fixed him with a hard stare from which Draco had seen lesser men flee. "Are you threatening me, Malfoy?"

A grin spread across his face. "I'd do it. For Theo."

Idly, Draco wondered what sort of threat Potter might give him if he knew Draco was going out with Granger that night. Maybe he would surpass threats and resort directly to violence.

The idea had rooted itself deeply enough that Draco could hardly ignore it anymore―at some point, he would have to tell Potter about the matter. Thinking back to his original hypothetical conversation with Theo, while Draco knew it wasn't specifically his secret to share, it also wasn't his to keep.

But for now, he simply wanted to look forward to their evening together.

"Anyway," Potter said quietly, drawing Draco's attention back to the matter at hand. "I don't intend to hurt anyone, honestly. Part of the Auror's oath and all that."

"True," Draco said with a chuckle. "And Theo can look out for himself. He's weird as hell, but he's got a heart of gold. Don't mess it up."

They shared a grin. "And you," Potter mused, "enjoy your non-date or whatever it is."

Draco only shook his head.


As the day passed, Draco felt nerves swell within him to the point where he couldn't sit still anymore. After he finished training for the day, he went home to change and freshen up, and after the fourth time fixing his hair, he couldn't stand to wait at home any longer.

Apparating to the hospital, Draco made the already instinctive trip towards his mother's private suite. The Malfoy coffers had taken a small hit to ensure the highest level of care in Narcissa's situation, but more Galleons were sitting away in the vaults than Draco would ever know what to do with.

Despite the fact that he hadn't taken any for his own use since he'd enrolled with the Ministry.

"Oh, Mister Malfoy," Healer Brooks said as they nearly collided with one another in the corridor. "I meant to reach out to you. Do you have a few minutes to speak with me in my office?" When Draco hesitated, eyeing the door to his mother's room, the healer added, "Your mother is asleep at the moment."

Draco slipped his hands into his pockets with a nod. "Sure."

As he followed the man around the next corner, he felt a prickling of nerves crawl up his spine. Surely, this long without results in magical healing was a bad sign. But the man's countenance remained stoic as they settled in his office.

"As you know," Healer Brooks began, "we haven't yet determined the root cause of your mother's illness. While we still have avenues to pursue, and this isn't unusual, we would have expected to find something by now. The good news is that we've been able to eliminate some nasty blood curses from the possibilities."

"Right," Draco drawled, resisting the urge to glance at his watch. He didn't have long before he was meant to meet up with Granger. "And what's the bad news?"

Brooks released a long sigh. "If we don't discover the cause soon, we'll need to consider other paths for your mother's care. More than once, she's expressed her distaste in remaining at the hospital long term. The case may be that she might need to return home―and it may even prove beneficial to be back in her own space."

The thought jarred through him. "I have a job, Healer Brooks―I wouldn't be able to take care of her."

"No, of course not. We would recommend a live-in healer for the time being. Someone who can still provide the consistent care she's receiving here, bring her to appointments, that sort of thing." The man ducked his chin. "We can discuss cost options if money is prohibitive, but to be honest, it wouldn't be that much more than what you're paying for a full private suite right now."

Draco hadn't stepped foot on the Manor grounds in years, and he clenched his jaw. For all of his mother's flaws and the many arguments they'd had over the years, he knew he was willing to do whatever it took to help her. "Fine. If you think it's for the best, we'll do it."

"Many times, we see a patient thrive in their home environment, even if they've struggled to improve here at St Mungo's." The man's expression faltered. "I want to assure you that we're doing our best to find the cause here. And if the home care doesn't work out, she can always return to the hospital."

Releasing a long sigh, Draco clasped his hands to resist the urge to wrench at his hair. "Very well. Thank you, Healer Brooks. Let me know if there's anything you need from me."

"I will get you more information tomorrow." As they both rose to their feet, Draco shook the man's proffered hand.

He had no interest in returning to the Manor beyond absolute necessity, but it seemed as though he wouldn't have an option in this case. The idea left him cold in the pit of his being.

Although he walked by his mother's room on his way back from Healer Brooks' office, the attending healers informed Draco his mother was still asleep and would be unable to accept visitors. Blowing out a breath, Draco returned to the Apparition point.

He checked his watch; it was a quarter past eight.

His heart rioted in his chest as he Apparated across London.


Despite the unease that still sat heavily on his soul―and had only swelled in magnitude since his discussion with Healer Brooks―Draco felt no small measure of anticipation take its place as he slipped through the door of the tea shop.

The teenaged girl eyed him with unveiled scepticism when he sat in a booth to wait for Granger, as she wasn't due to end her shift for another ten minutes. But her eyes flitted to him from across the shop as she tended an elderly couple, a smile pulling at her lips.

He could scarcely manage the racing of his heart, and he forced himself to take several long breaths. For Merlin's sake, it wasn't as if he had never been on a date before.

But the case remained that he had never been on a date with her before.

The strangeness of it added a certain dimension of complexity to the matter. The stakes had never felt so high on any other date.

A few minutes later, she slipped into the other side of his booth, a sparkle in her eyes as she met his gaze. Her wavy curls were loose and glossy, and she wore a lovely lace top.

"Hi." Draco ducked his chin, a smirk curling his own mouth. "You look nice."

"Thank you. So do you," she murmured, and a faint hint of colour danced in her cheeks. "Where would you like to go tonight? Did you drive?"

For a brief, terrifying moment, Draco only stared at her. Realistically, he ought to have considered such a thing, but he had never dated a Muggle―or someone remotely Muggle-adjacent―and the idea had never crossed his mind. He didn't know whether most Muggles drove vehicles, particularly in the city.

Clearing his throat, he glanced away. "I did not. I don't have a car."

Although her brows lifted in surprise, there was no judgement in her stare. "Oh. That's alright; I wasn't sure, given your family background. There are places nearby that we can walk to."

He sincerely hoped she wasn't going to suggest the nightclub he had passed the night before, with music so loud it had nearly vibrated the pavement outside. It didn't strike Draco as a place she would enjoy, however, and he doubted they would even be able to hear one another.

"That sounds good," Draco mused, glancing around. "Are you set to go?"

"Nearly. I just have to grab my coat." Flashing him another brief smile, she rose and vanished into the back. Moments later, she returned and conferred with the young girl working before flitting back to Draco's side.

The sky had already begun to darken, but the air was mild as they walked down the road, and Draco shoved his hands in his pockets to quell his nerves. "How was your day?" he asked, suppressing an urge to grimace at the banality of the question.

"It was good," she said as they walked. "I have two exams next week to prepare for, but I've caught up with all my readings and assignments, and the shop was a little slow this evening." She cast him a glance. "All incredibly riveting to you, of course."

Although Draco couldn't particularly reconcile with the idea of exams and assignments anymore, he snickered. "I like hearing about it."

"And what about you? How is your mother doing?" Concern flitted through her eyes as she bit down on her lower lip.

He hesitated for a moment, uncertain how much he ought to discuss with her on the matter. "My mother is... tough. Even as sick as she is, she's been complaining about her care providers." He released a long exhale. "They still don't know what's wrong and have started to run some tests to scour for deeper issues. But her head attendant thinks she might be better off with in-home care, which means she would return to the manor."

Granger's brows lifted. "Wow. I hope they can figure out what's wrong soon."

"Thanks. So do I."

"You live in a manor?"

Something in the inflexion of the words caught his attention, and his head snapped towards her. But nothing beyond genuine curiosity sat in her face, and he shook his head.

"I have a flat." When she only eyed him a moment later, he elaborated. "I used to live in the manor. But I moved out a handful of years ago. If it were up to me, I'd never return, but I'll have to in order to visit my mother."

"Your family life is complex, isn't it?" Her lips twitched with a hint of humour, and Draco chuckled.

"I can't even begin to explain it all."

Granger glanced down the road, pausing in the middle of the walk. "Do you prefer university club or scholarly watering hole?"

It felt like a test, and he narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. "Scholarly."

"Good choice," she mused before lowering her voice and adding, "and the correct choice."

A grin tugged, unbidden, and he felt the warmth of it surge through him. "Changed my mind," he quipped. "Let's go to the club."

Granger wheeled towards him, shaking her head a little, and breathed, "Prat."

Stumbling to a stop before he accidentally collided with her, Draco stared at her for a moment. He was at least half a foot taller than her, but she sparkled with easygoing confidence that made her more imposing than her slight stature. It was something that had always jumped out about Granger.

And she was beautiful.

That determination had taken him a few years, and while he would have denied it had anyone asked when he was younger, it didn't change the fact that it was true. Especially now, having grown into the charms of a young woman.

Draco forced a swallow around the lump that solidified within his throat. "If there was only one correct answer," he drawled, "why did you give me two options?"

"Because," she whispered, "I'm still trying to get a read on the sort of person you are."

The response was more forward than he might have expected from anyone else, except Granger.

"Yeah?" he murmured, holding her stare. "I'll look forward to the results."

Although her expression faltered for a moment, a soft, alluring smile overtook her face. "So far, they're promising." She blinked, glancing away, and Draco sucked in a shallow breath. "Anyway, the pub is just here."

Surprised, Draco followed her gaze towards a brick facade set back from the road where they stood. Draco reached for the door on instinct, holding it open, and her eyes searched his for a moment before she slipped inside.

Since stumbling across her in the Muggle side of London, Draco had experienced more Muggle things than he had ever expected. But it was reassuring to know that pubs were more or less the same.

The atmosphere was dimly lit but inviting, with lacquered wooden tables and tall bookshelves stood along the walls packed with thick-spined books.

He could see exactly why Granger liked the place.

They slipped into an empty table in the corner, away from the general hum of the place, and after a waiter arrived to take their order, Draco sank into his seat. A strange tension played about his shoulders as the truth of the situation settled in.

"So when do you expect to be through with your training?" she asked, gaze drifting around the room.

Draco latched onto the topic, feeling as though he wasn't a very interesting date. "At least another year, likely more. It'll depend on a few things, like if I get kicked out of the program."

He snickered at the thought, but Granger only stared at him with wide eyes. "Why would you get kicked out?"

"Realistically, any number of reasons," he teased. "But I'm only joking. It's just very intense, and I'm not exactly excelling."

Her face softened, head falling into a tilt. "I'm sure you'll get there. I can tell how much it means to you. And if you ever like, I'm happy to help you study; I'm a bit of an aficionado."

"I don't doubt you are," he breathed, a flicker of fondness darting through him. He could remember countless nights spent across the block of study tables at the library until the pair of them were the only ones left and the candles had burned nearly to the bottom. "Most of my tests are practical scenarios, but I'll take you up on that if they ever offer a written exam."

"Of course," Granger tittered. Although she glanced around them, he could see the tension in the set of her shoulders.

The waiter delivered their drinks, and Granger flashed him a smile before taking a sip of her beverage―some sort of red cocktail. Draco eyed her for a moment as he took a pull of his ale, and she was more fidgety than he had ever seen her. He wondered whether he had misjudged the situation in asking her out―or if maybe they had a different perception of what the night meant.

"Melody, is everything alright?" Draco felt a flicker of doubt when she plastered on a thin smile.

Merlin, he had already learned to differentiate one smile from the other.

"Yes!" she exclaimed with a quick nod. "Quite alright." She blew out a breath and took another drink from her glass. "I suppose I'm only a little nervous because I'm not certain whether I should even be here. I don't imagine I can afford your dowry."

Draco blinked at her.

Her lips twitched.

"Did you just... make a marriage joke?" he asked.

"Too soon?" she tittered.

A laugh broke free, incredulity mixed with relief, and he grinned. "Quite timely, in fact."

"I mean..." she trailed off, smiling in return. "Honestly, from everything I've heard, I wouldn't be surprised. Next, you'll be telling me about your family vaults buried below the earth."

He cocked a brow. "Was that a guess? Because―"

"You're kidding."

Clicking his tongue, Draco took another swallow of ale. "You honestly wouldn't believe it. And for the record, I do not have a dowry, so you're safe to be out with me tonight."

She released an exaggerated breath of relief, the smile lingering on her lips for another moment longer before falling away. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Seriously, though," Draco hedged. "Is something the matter?"

The sparkle he'd come to rely on in her eyes was absent when he caught her gaze. He shifted in his seat, wishing he could dispel the cloud of melancholy that had seeped in.

"Jitters, I suppose," she said quietly. "I ought to tell you something, and it's a little difficult to explain."

Draco's heart stalled in his chest and skipped a beat as he stared at her, frozen. "No judgement, Mel."

A tight breath fell from her lips as she glanced away, tapping her fingernails against the surface of the table. "When I told you it's easy to feel alone here... it's because I don't know anything about how or where I grew up." He stared at her, forcing a thick swallow down his dry throat. "A few years ago, I had an accident and suffered a complete long-term memory loss episode."

Even though he already knew as much, to hear the words from her voice―to see the despair in her face―felt as though someone had punched him in the chest. "What sort of an accident?"

"I don't know," she breathed, shaking her head a little as though to dispel her thoughts. "The first thing I remember is waking in Australia, of all places, and I couldn't remember anything that had happened. At all." She offered a meek attempt at a smile. "Which, let me tell you, was a weird experience."

He didn't have it in him to dredge forth a shred of humour. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It was as though I'd lost everything that made me, me." Her face was contemplative when she looked up at him. "I had these skills that I must have learned―speaking, reading, writing, that sort of thing. Intrinsic knowledge, but no frame of reference for where any of it had come from."

"Nothing?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse.

"Nothing," she echoed quietly. "All I had on me was a wallet with some Australian dollars and some English pounds. And my identification―Melody Simon, with a London address. So I figured out a way home, desperate for someone who knew me. But... the address wasn't real." Her voice dropped to a whisper, devastation tugging at her brow. "I don't even know if this is my real name."

Listening to her tell the story was so visceral, Draco felt the full weight of it crush him. He swept a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "So what did you do?"

"I had hoped to find some family, or friends, or someone who knew me. But I had no idea where I could even begin to look... so I just had to survive. I found a job, and then I decided I ought to go to school, and... well, that's about where I am now." She offered him an apologetic grimace. "I haven't shared the story with very many people."

"I can't even imagine," Draco breathed. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Mel."

"It's alright," she mused. "At first, I was hopeful the memories would suddenly come rushing back in, and it would all have been a temporary mess, but it's been a number of years now, and I've all but given up on a past I may never know. I've seen so many doctors and specialists at this point―every month, it's new tests and new people hooking machines up to my brain―and I wish I could just put it behind me. But I feel like I'll always wonder, you know?"

A heavy breath sank from his lungs as indecision threatened to wrench him in two.

He wouldn't even know how to begin to explain what he knew from the other side.

"Anyway," she said with a bit of a laugh that didn't sound remotely genuine. "That's the baggage I bring, at any rate. And if there's more, I don't remember it."

She began tapping an anxious rhythm on the tabletop again, and Draco stilled her hand with his own, working his jaw. Her fingers were soft and small beneath his, and he gave her hand a brief squeeze. Her eyes flitted up to his, wide and searching.

"Your baggage doesn't matter," he said quietly. "And even if it did, it's mixed in with the mountain of my own. I'm only sorry you had to go through all of that."

"Thank you, Draco." Her throat shifted with a swallow, and her fingers entwined with his own. "That means a lot."

"Maybe," he hedged, "you'll find the truth out yet. Don't lose faith, yeah?"

"It's hard," she whispered, her smile faltering again. "It's as if I'm torn between wanting to find out―to see who I might be missing―and there's guilt for wanting to let go of that pain and begin anew. Constantly warring within me."

Draco's heart raced, voracious and insatiable, as her words struck some part of him that hadn't even begun to consider the anguish the situation must have inspired within her. "It wasn't your fault. Whatever happened back then―you can't carry guilt over something that happened that was out of your control." Swallowing a tidal wave of emotion within him, he felt warmth spread through his face. "Maybe you'll find the answers one day, but you can't torture yourself over it."

Her large, watery eyes blinked up at him, imploring. As though she wished she could believe him.

She swiped at the corner of one eye with her free hand and released a quiet snicker. "Look at me, making our nice evening together weird and emotional. You'll probably not want to see me again."

"On the contrary." He gave her hand another squeeze, ducking his chin. "I find I'm more interested in getting to know you than ever."

Something akin to hope curled the corners of her mouth as she whispered, "Okay."


Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading. I hope you're all enjoying the story! And in exciting news, the update schedule for this story is going to shift from every 7 days to every 5-6 :)

So many hugs to my loves, Kyonomiko and FaeOrabel, for all their help with this story.