"June 5th," Hermione sighed.

"That's right," Draco replied. "Now surely you're not going to ask me to do something I really don't want to do on my birthday, are you?" He crossed his arms over his chest, and Harry rolled his eyes. Draco ignored him, keeping his gaze on Hermione. "You know how much I hate favors, Granger."

"Look, Draco, we're not trying to manipulate you into doing this or bribe you or something like that."

"I can pay you back," Hermione interrupted. "I've got a gift in mind for you. I already have it in my dorm, actually. If you do this, and I give you the gift, we won't owe each other anything and I'll never ask you for anything ever again-"

"Doubtful."

Hermione gave the tiniest of smiles, knowing he was probably right. "I swear I'll do my best, then."

Draco waited a few seconds, then uncrossed his arms and pulled one of the chairs from the table next to him, swinging it around and sitting backwards in it, resting his arms on the back. "What's the gift?"

"A wand holster," Hermione explained. "I bought it in Diagon Alley for myself, but... if you run to any more Death Eaters, you might need it more than I do. It's for either arm, but it's... it's a forearm holster so it would..." she glanced over at Harry for a second before looking back and Draco and lowering her voice, "it would cover up your Mark. I-If you wanted it to, I mean."

Draco's grey eyes hardened, and Hermione felt like his gaze was going right through her, as if he was already trying to read her mind. It would have been terrifying if they weren't on the same side, and she briefly remembered him pinning her to the wall in the elevator, something she hadn't and probably never would tell Harry about. A chill made its way down her spine, uninhibited by the coolness of the dungeons. Even if a fire was going, it would probably still be cold.

"And if that's not enough, I can give you a Firebolt."

Draco turned to Harry, steely eyes penetrating his next. "What?"

"I can give you a Firebolt," he repeated. "Not mine. I... when I bought my replacement, they... gave me an extra. If you want to join the Quidditch team or even if you don't, if you help Hermione with this, it's yours."

"So you're just giving me things you don't want? How thoughtful." Draco's sarcasm was eating into their confidence, whittling away at it. They knew he was good at doing that, but this was a whole new challenge. At least they were facing it together.

"You don't want a Firebolt, then? You don't want the fastest broom on the market that no one else on the team besides me will have?" Harry challenged, raising an eyebrow. Suddenly, the tension in the room changed, and Hermione didn't think she'd been that turned on in a long time.

Draco was quick to respond. "I didn't say that. Wipe that stupid smirk off your face, Potter. I'm not done. How long is this going to take?"

"We don't know," Hermione managed to answer after clearing her throat and focusing on Draco's words instead of the way Harry was unmoving. "We're assessing the damage tomorrow. After that, we'll decide what needs to be done. But it might be an easy fix and we'll be done in a couple hours."

"So you might not even need me?"

"We probably will, but... that is a possibility, yes."

"And these… gifts. Will I get them even if you don't need me after tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Potter?"

"Sure."

Draco took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose, and got up from the chair. He checked his watch, though they weren't sure what for, and looked back up at them. "I'll think about it and let you know," he finally answered.

"When?"

"When you see me show up in that office or you don't, Potter. Now get out of this common room before the couch gets any more soiled."

"But-"

Draco just tilted his head towards the door as he slid the chair back under the table, making Harry and Hermione stand and move out of the common room. It was only then that Hermione felt like she could breathe.

"God, he irritates me so fucking much," Harry muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. "And where the hell did he manage to get a haircut?"

"I can..."

"You told me to never let you again."

She reached over to take Harry's free hand, linking their fingers together. "I can make exceptions. Maybe I'll just trim it a little. It doesn't look that bad. I like it long enough to play with anyway."

Harry blushed a little. "You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know I don't play with it as much anymore, but I've always…" she trailed off and looked down at their hands.

"Always what?"

Hermione took a breath, a smile playing on her face. "I've always been kind of jealous of it."

"My… hair?"

"Yes. It looks good no matter what you do to it. It looks good first thing in the morning and mine looks like-"

"Your curls are… a handful, yes," Harry laughed. "But I love them, okay? I always have."

"Even in first year?"

"Okay, well… once you figured out how to manage them," he teased, knocking her shoulder with his. "First year was rough for all of us as far as hair goes, I think."

That night was filled with tossing and turning on both Harry and Hermione's parts. Harry had half a mind to suggest that if they weren't going to sleep, he had much better ideas about how they could stay up, but he didn't want to further ruin the optimism she seemed to have about the ritual. Harry really hoped it would work, desperate for this whole ordeal to be over. At least more puzzle pieces were falling into place. More things were making sense. All of her hesitation, the emotional table tennis, why she really didn't want to stay away from him when they broke up. Or why she couldn't. Did the bond only come into play when certain memories were determining her emotions?

Just when he was starting to let his eyes stay closed for more than a couple seconds, he felt the bed move and the warmth pressed against his chest suddenly left. He groaned, wrenching his eyes open and letting them adjust to the soft moonlight coming in.

"Where are you going?"

Hermione was just sitting on the edge of the bed, redoing her ponytail. "I can't sleep," she whispered as if it wasn't obvious.

Harry pushed himself up on his elbow. "I've noticed. But you don't have to get out of bed…"

"I might as well try to start preparing for our appointment."

"You don't want to try to… strengthen the bond?"

She finally turned around with a grin, but Harry could tell she was one proposition away from rolling her eyes. "Harry,"' she began in the way he'd missed so much, between admiration and annoyance. "We can avoid anything embarrassing coming out in the Pensieve, Harry, but if Draco has to go in there, I don't imagine you'd love to give him any more embarrassing moments than I'm sure he'll already have." She laid down on her stomach next to him, running her hand through his freshly trimmed hair, which admittedly didn't look too bad.

"And burn those images into his brain for the rest of his life? The ultimate torture? You doubt me, Hermione," Harry laughed.

"Well, once we don't need anyone in there anymore, maybe I can give you a little leeway, all right?"

His eyebrows raised in excitement. "Really?"

"Don't get too ahead of yourself. I said maybe."

Harry smirked. "Which, recently, has usually meant yes, to be fair." He knew he'd won the argument because Hermione just glared at him playfully, removed her hand from his hair, and stood, heading into the common room to leave Harry debating whether or not to get up with her or stay in bed alone. Would going after her make her more nervous? Was this the "alone time" she didn't enjoy, or was it okay because Harry was in the next room? He itched to get out of bed, but his body was fighting the decision. The light of a small blue flame peeked across the common room that he could barely see through the door, and he took that as a good sign, rolling over and closing his eyes. When he woke back up, it was due to Hermione pressing herself into his chest as close as she could possibly get and falling asleep before he could fully even process it.

Their appointment with Greenwood wasn't until ten, so they spent the morning sipping on as much coffee as they could without their hands shaking with anticipation. Hermione kept reaching into her pocket to grip the folded up piece of paper with the list of questions and scenarios and memories she'd written down. She hadn't remembered being this nervous since Harry's trial, but for this, she at least felt mostly prepared. She knew what she wanted to try, and she knew which memories they would need to see. At least... she hoped she did. And there she was, doubting herself again.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, squeezing her hand a little tighter as they made their way to Greenwood's office.

"No," she admitted. "I'm terrified. I have no idea what they're going to see and I'm even more worried that they're not going to be able to-"

Before she could finish, McGonagall's telltale heels clicked down the hall, followed by another pair of shoes and a hushed, irritable voice. Harry immediately pulled her to the side, pushing her back against a wall and holding a finger up to her mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she wasn't about to complain. Hermione wouldn't normally be one for eavesdropping, but it was McGonagall that was speaking, somewhere in front of Greenwood's office.

"I've told you, Mister Malfoy, what you and the Minister agreed on isn't something that can just be changed overnight. This does not and will not have anything to do with your mother's sentence, and if the only reason you agreed to it was because you thought it might help-"

"Why else would I have agreed?"

"That's not something I can answer for you."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed at the conversation, but it wasn't something else she needed to think about at the moment, not with her nerves already threatening to turn her back to the dorm. Harry waited until the heavy office door closed before he removed himself from Hermione's personal space. "Sorry," he muttered.

"You can't go one year without spying on him, can you?" Hermione teased. A shaky breath slipped from her lips as a vague memory of Harry pushing her chest up against a wall began to resurface. Was it the shower? She cleared her throat. Inhaled deeply.

"I guess not," he laughed. When he turned away and Hermione didn't follow, he looked back to find her head pressed back against the wall, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. "Hermione? What's wrong?"

She shook her head quickly. "I just need a moment, okay? I'll meet you in there."

Harry hesitated but just answered with a nod. When he arrived in Greenwood's office, he was surprised at how many people were in there, especially on such short notice. It looked like everyone they had requested had actually showed up. She wasn't joking about her connections. All seated around the room were McGonagall in a plush armchair in the corner of the room, Greenwood at her usual spot behind her desk, and Ollivander on the couch Harry usually sat at with a woman he didn't recognize. Draco was the only one standing, leaning against the back wall and crossing his arms over his chest in boredom. In the center of the room, uninhibited by furniture, was the Pensieve, prepped, shining, and ready for use. Harry's stomach began to roll. This wasn't going to be a casual procedure.

"I hope you brought Hermione with you," Greenwood teased.

"Yeah, she's just outside," Harry answered with a sigh. "Mr. Ollivander, I didn't expect you to be here."

"I wasn't about to miss this, Mr. Potter." He held up a quill and a small notebook, ready to write everything down for his own research.

"Glad we could help." Harry's tone was a bit more sour than he intended, but maybe Ollivander would be able to help after all, since this seemed to definitely be bond-induced.

After a few moments of awkward silence that consisted of Harry trying to figure out the best place to sit, Hermione slowly opened the door and poked her head in.

"Professor Babbling," she said in a voice between shock and relief. Of course that was why Harry hadn't recognized the woman.

"You think that when Miss Greenwood managed to contact me yesterday to tell me that Hermione Granger had an issue with runes that I wasn't about to come up here and see what you'd gotten yourself into?" the woman said with a sly grin, which made Hermione smile and let out a breathless laugh.

Across the room, Draco huffed. "Can we start and get this over with please?"

Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Draco say please in his life. He'd have to remember that for later.

"Yes," Greenwood replied, standing up. "Hermione, come on in and get comfortable. We saved that seat for you and Harry if you want him close." She indicated to a plush loveseat next to the couch he'd been too distracted to notice before. Hermione took Harry's hand as she passed, squeezing it for support. Once they sat down, Greenwood gathered her notes and addressed the room. "Okay, everyone! So... I suppose we should start with summarizing this all up to make sure we're all on the same page with what's going on. Draco, this will probably be all new to you, so try to pay attention." It only took her a few minutes to read over all her notes, but with everyone's eyes on them, Harry and Hermione felt like they'd already been there for hours.

Talking about doing this, fixing this, was one thing, but now that they were here, Harry could feel Hermione's nerves kicking in. Her leg began bouncing, and he had to put a hand on her knee to make it stop. When Greenwood was done, she looked around the room. "Any questions?"

Hermione was the first to raise her hand, which surprised no one. "Miss Greenwood, I took the liberty last night of writing down some moments that I do remember. That might be useful to determine where things went wrong if Harry remembers them differently." She pulled the crumpled and folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it over.

Carefully, Greenwood's eyes scanned over the list, her eyebrow raising. Harry had no idea what Hermione had written down in there, and they'd barely even talked about exactly what it was they both remembered, but now was as good a time as any to find out. "Thank you, Hermione. We can refer back to this list if we need any additional memories from you, but I think the most important would be to start with your meeting. You said you don't remember it, correct?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I just remember meeting Ron on the train that day."

"Okay, well, let's start with that. I'm just going to take that memory and put it in the Pensieve, then once we take a look, I'll give it right back and I'll take the memory from Harry and do the same thing. We need to find out what's not matching up to see if we can get to the root of the problem."

"I know the root of the problem," Ollivander spoke. "Harry's right - the bond is trying to keep Hermione from her own true feelings regarding him. Whatever moment the bond broke is the main memory we're going to have to fix, most likely."

Hermione and Harry exchanged nervous glances. Neither of them wanted to relive that. She squeezed his hand tighter, and he braced himself for it.

"Let's just make sure," Greenwood said calmly. "I'm sure you're not wrong about what's going on, but we need to see how deeply this is affecting them." She moved to Hermione, waiting for confirmation before tapping her wand against Hermione's temple and pulling a string of smoke from it. Hermione just took deep breaths, trying to keep her anxiety from surfacing. Instinctively, Harry rubbed the small of her back in easy circles as Greenwood cupped her hand under the memory and walked it the couple steps over to the Pensieve before depositing it in and letting it settle. She spent a few minutes with her head under while the rest of them watched and waited. When she came back out, she had a frown on her face. "That's interesting. Something's... definitely warped. I see where you're saying the memory skips, but... Harry, were you sitting next to Ron?"

"Yes."

"I thought so."

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, sitting up straighter.

"It's like your brain really is trying to block him out. I can tell where he was."

"I don't understand."

Greenwood removed the memory from the Pensieve and deposited it back into Hermione before speaking again. "Mr. Ollivander, how much do you think a bond would be able to alter memories? Because it seems like it's... working around something."

"As good as one would be able to alter their own, I'd think," he answered. "But with a bond as strong as theirs, I'm not sure it would be able to override anything Hermione wouldn't want forgotten at a base level. And it's still very strong, you two. Don't let this scare you."

Greenwood thought for a second. "Like repressing memories from trauma: not accessible but still in the brain. Makes perfect sense. Okay, okay... Draco, this is where you come in."

"Lovely," he muttered.

"Hermione," the woman turned back to her, "do you trust Draco? I want to look at a different memory. You both mentioned some time at the end of second year, when Hermione came back from being petrified and ran into your arms, Harry. And Hermione, you don't remember that?" Hermione shook her head. "All right. If you'll take a seat here, Draco. Are you sure you're willing to do this? Your relationship with her will never be the same again. Looking at someone's memories takes a great deal of personal intimacy-"

"Don't remind me." Reluctantly, Draco sat down in the small chair Greenwood pulled over, his back rod straight as his gaze stayed fixed on Hermione. His jaw tightened as Hermione sat up straighter as well, less relaxed with the way Draco was looking at her. She wasn't sure if she was about to regret this decision, but at this point, what choice did she have? She knew no other Legilimens that could help, and she needed to sort this out as soon as possible. But Draco's grey eyes boring into hers made her stomach clench uncomfortably. She was about to let him into her memories. Was she crazy? She must be. She gulped.

"Let go of her hand, Potter. I don't want your memories to interfere with hers. I'm looking through the end of second year, correct? I don't think I can be accurate enough for a specific date." Hermione nodded. "You're ready?"

"I guess," Hermione sighed, closing her eyes and bracing herself. The feeling as Draco entered her mind was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would, maybe it was because she was letting him, but it felt like a worm wiggling its way through her brain, between her lobes. More uncomfortable than anything, and it made her shoulders tense up near her ears. Then, it dulled to a singular spot.

"Got it," Draco said aloud. "God, you were all so small."

"Can you describe what you see, Draco?"

"We're in the Great Hall. Granger's running down between the tables. All I can see is Wealsey getting up from the table, but... something's weird behind him. Hang on. She just disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

Harry watched Draco's brows furrow in confusion, and fought the urge to touch Hermione and try to alleviate her discomfort.

"It's... like the image is distorted. If I'm in Granger's perspective, I can't see him, but if I move, if I'm not where she's standing, I can. I can go around and... I can see her. That's weird. It's like a blind spot. Like he's wearing an Invisibility Cloak and when she goes to hug him, I can't see her."

"Is the image distorting in a curve or a... a triangle around Harry?" Greenwood asked.

Draco took a few seconds, during which Hermione's face scrunched up a little more, before answering, "Yes. What does that mean?"

"It's refracting the light. It couldn't remove the image, so it's bending it around Harry so he's essentially invisible. When Hermione tries to recall these memories, it's as if he doesn't exist, which is genius for a subconscious."

"Well, this is Hermione we're talking about," Harry said confidently. "Even if it's not in my favor." Out of the corner of his eye, Hermione managed the smallest of smiles.

"The next question would be why it's so desperate, right?" Ollivander asked. "Why is it trying so hard, even though it's had so little success?"

Harry took a breath before answering. "It was attached to Voldemort's soul. Of course it's desperate to hang onto something."

"I think you can come back, Mr. Malfoy," Greenwood instructed.

The room was silent as Draco's eyes opened and Hermione let out a sigh, relaxing against Harry's side and burying her face into her shoulder. He could feel her discreetly wiping her tears. Whether it was from pain or the conversation, Harry couldn't tell.

"How do we fix it?" he asked for her. "Is it easy?"

Greenwood crossed the room back to her desk, flipping through her notes and books. "It should be. It seems like all we'd need to do to get it all back in order is-"

"Fix her memories," Draco offered, face blank. "Restore them properly."

"That's right."

Hermione picked her head up from Harry's shoulder, licking her lips. "Restito Memoriae." Draco nodded. "Can you do it?"

Looking around the room and taking in the faces of all the adults around him, it was clear by Draco's clenching fists and flaring nostrils that he was holding back what he truly wanted to say. They were expecting the correct answer from him. He had no choice. Harry could see his mind working, determining what this would mean and what it already had. Without giving it too much more thought, he slid his wand out and pointed it at Hermione's face, making her tense as a swallow trailed down her throat.

She was trying not to be nervous, but she couldn't help it. Just get it over with and be done, she wanted to tell him, acutely aware that any mistake could make things worse or change the bond if Draco used any spell other than the one she expected him to, and she really didn't even want to think about being completely at his mercy. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, which was rather disconcerting considering he had just been in her memories. She felt powerless. Nervous. Scared like she had been in Paris when he said she'd been "his job." Scared to trust that he would do this for her in expectations of something as dumb as a wand holder and a broom.

"Restito Memoriae."

Hermione hadn't realized how different everything had looked under the fog of the bond fighting her. She had to squint at the light that seemed to be brighter than it was a second ago. She put a hand on her chest to calm the sudden thrumming of her heart combined with the lurch of the once-gentle tug of the bond. It only lasted for a split second, after which she felt like she'd run a marathon. Her limbs were heavy. Her stomach hurt. She had a pounding headache, and immediately closed her eyes, her head falling back against Harry. His arm wrapped around her waist and immediately she felt the effect. Warmth radiated from her side like life was being pushed back into her.

Harry seemed to be affected, too, because when he looked at her, there was a sense of recognition in his eyes, and she could swear for half a second, they were molten gold. "Hermione? Did... did it work?"

All she could do was nod as tears filled her eyes. "I... I think so. I remember it all. The hug and the ball and... and Sirius a-and Fred's funeral. I'd forgotten about that night..."

Shifting in his seat, Harry was careful to choose his words. He could feel a difference, too. His heart was lighter. Hermione looked like she was glowing. But he didn't want to get too excited, because he knew it shouldn't be this easy. Nothing they'd done for the past seven years could be magically fixed with a single spell, could it? Was he wrong in having doubts? It wasn't Hermione he was doubting, though. She was remembering moments she didn't even realize she had forgotten - that had to be a good sign, right? It was all back. "So... that's it, then?" he asked, looking up and making brief eye contact with all the adults in the room. They were waiting too, it seemed. "It's done?" When his eyes met Hermione's, she smiled. "What?"

"I've been in love with you for a long time, Harry," she whispered as if she'd never realized it before.

"Oh, for f-… crying out loud, did it work?" The sharpness in Draco's voice quickly pierced through Harry's inflating heart. For a moment, just a moment, he'd felt Hermione's arms around him for the first time down in that chess room, and even more meaningful was that he knew she remembered it too. "You both love each other. We get it."

"Just because you've never loved anyone in your life, Malfoy, it doesn't give you the right to ruin someone else's!" Hermione spat before Harry could open his mouth to respond. Instead, he was a little taken aback. This wasn't anything like she had acted towards him even as recent as yesterday. Probably just extreme emotion from having the bond back. Like an overflow. Surely she'd apologize. It even seemed like Draco was waiting for it. When she didn't, Draco calmly stood, swallowed, nodded once, and walked out of the room.

Pushing away the urge to stay with Hermione, Harry followed him. "Draco, wait!" Hermione seemed to be back with all her memories and emotions and feelings, but the conversation they'd heard in the hall between Draco and McGonagall, combined with this reaction, didn't sit well with him. Why was he doing this? What deal had he made with Kingsley?

"Go back to your girlfriend, Potter. You don't need me anymore. I fixed it. It's done. You're welcome."

"But why?" Harry panted, trying to keep up with him. "Why did you help us?"

Draco finally stopped, conceding that Harry wasn't going to give up and turing to face him. "Why does it matter? I did. Isn't that all you care about?"

"No! You said you'd do it for the gifts we have. But that's not it, is it? You thought you'd get something out of it."

"What the hell are you talking about? What do I have to gain from any of this shit?"

"You made a deal with Kingsley for your mum's sentence," he accused. "I heard McGonagall talking to you before the meeting... I'm not mad," Harry quickly added once he saw Draco tense, afraid he'd run again and they wouldn't get the chance to talk. "I just want to know. You… you acted like you wanted to be friends-"

"I don't have to tell you anything. Why would I do anything for her if I've never loved anyone in my life?"

"She didn't mean that-"

"The one person I thought was giving me a chance. That actually thought I was worth a damn. And it wasn't even real." His voice dropped and his eyes shifted, like he didn't know why he'd told Harry that.

"Draco, you know that's not true. Hermione's not like that-"

"Isn't she?" he choked out. "Maybe she hadn't been, but now that she's all fixed up, she's back to normal. Of course she couldn't be in her right mind to trust me. And after all of that, everything I did for Mum and it didn't even make a difference."

"All of what? What did you do?" Harry pleaded. "If I know what you're doing, I can help you. We can both help you." Not for the first time, Harry felt Draco's defenses breaking down. He was whittling away at everything Draco had been holding in. He had no idea how this would turn out, considering what happened the last time he'd caught Draco in a vulnerable moment of desperation.

"I took a deal with the bloody Ministry to get Mum's sentence shorter!" he finally admitted in a shout. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now? I agreed to help them track down Death Eaters to help fix what I was a part of! I never wanted to do any of it. Mum's not the one who deserves to be there. It should have been me. I should be sitting in a fucking cell, not worming my way through Granger's memories of you. Why do you think I went to France with her and deposited a Death Eater at Kingsley's feet?"

"You knew? You knew she was in danger and you didn't tell me?!"

"What good would it have done? What would you have been able to do?"

Harry's thoughts were running wild, going through everything that had happened since the trial. Draco talked about all of Hermione's help being a lie, but now Harry couldn't help wondering if Draco's had been too. Had he even cared about Hermione at all? No, he told himself. If he didn't, he wouldn't have been upset. But Draco had gone to France instead of him. "And my whole trial?" he began before he could stop himself. "Was that all your idea, too?"

"No!"

"And me not being able to leave the country - did you do that to protect me?"

"No! That was Shacklebolt. I swear. I had nothing to do with that. Anything about your sentence. I think it was bullshit, too. That you had a trial in the first place. The Dark Lord deserved what he got, and the Ministry didn't even realize that dumb taboo didn't even work."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. This was something he'd been curious about for a while - if he was getting in trouble, surely they would have been able to find all the Death Eaters using any Unforgivable curse.

"Most of them aren't that thick, Potter. It only took a week before they realized what was going on and started using them nonverbally, especially since they'd implemented their own for the Dark Lord. The taboo doesn't work if you don't actually say the word."

*Of course,* Harry thought, sighing to himself. It wouldn't have made a difference, though - he couldn't have done that spell nonverbally. "And you didn't think that would have been an important point that could have been brought up at my trial?"

"Why the hell would I have done that? That's not my job. You think they would have believed me anyway? It was Kingsley's idea that it went on so long in the first place. Trying to keep you in the media or something. I don't know. He was talking about it, but I didn't pay attention-"

"And why would you keep this from us? Why didn't you tell any of us anything?!"

Draco clenched his teeth in annoyance. "It wasn't part of the deal for you to know-"

"Even for the sake of all of us thinking that you were helping just to help?"

"Well," Draco shrugged, "now you know, I guess. You should have known better."

Draco looked at Harry for a couple more seconds, breathing heavily, and Harry's fingers automatically twitched, ready to grab his wand. There were so many things he wanted to yell, so many questions he needed to be answered, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Draco was done talking about any of it. He was probably done talking at all. Harry didn't even know what he was feeling, but some sense of betrayal was definitely at the top of the list. Had Draco really accepted his semi-friendship or was it just to make it easier to keep secrets?

"You're a coward, Malfoy," he scowled. "That's all you are."

Draco's face tensed, his jaw tightening. "I never said I wasn't."

"So you're admitting it?"

"That's what I hate about you Gryffindors, Potter," Draco said through a harsh laugh, as if he'd been expecting Harry's reaction. "All of you. Granger included. You act like being a coward is the worst possible thing someone could be. Any sign of danger and you have to fix it. You have to be one to save everyone. Risking your life over and over again, and for what? You've got absolutely no regard of what you getting hurt will do to the people around you. What do you think self-preservation is? Knowing when you've done all you can without putting your friends and family in danger. When does bravery become more important than loyalty? You act like I did something wrong by running when the only Slytherins that died in that courtyard are the ones that you killed."

His words cut through a speechless Harry that didn't want to admit that any one of them was remotely true. He wanted to argue, but he couldn't even come up with a decent response. His brain was in overdrive. No regard of what you getting hurt will do to the people around you. If he dunked his head into the Pensieve right now, he'd probably get a montage of all the stupid things he'd done in his life when other peoples' safety were on the line and he did it anyway. Had he been selfish? How much had he hurt Hermione in the past seven years? Even now, he'd just left her vulnerable in search of answers without even asking her. He couldn't think about it. He didn't want to think about it. So he just muttered, "You're wrong" in the direction of the floor, but he only half believed it.

Draco didn't say anything, but he could picture a stupid smirk on his face, and when Harry looked up, he was walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"Home!" Draco shouted without looking back.

Harry shook his head quickly, trying to put the conversation in the back of his mind. He couldn't worry about that when Hermione still needed him. She was more important - that wasn't a question. Drao could be dealt with later. At least if he didn't come back, he could keep his extra Firebolt a little longer. When he got back into Greenwood's office, it seemed as if everything had calmed down. The Pensieve had been moved to the side of the room, along with the chair Draco had been in, and Hermione was sitting on the couch with Ollivander on one side of her and Professor Babbling on the other.

"If I had a sickle for every time a student tried to do master-level runes without even their NEWTS," she was saying as Harry walked in, "I could afford to retire."

"It was only two!"

"Two too many, Miss Granger."

"Technically, it was three for me," Harry admitted, closing the office door behind him and smirking at the look Hermione gave.

When Professor Babbling turned to Hermione with a look of mock surprise. "Three?"

"Okay, to be fair. Harry decided that one all on his own. It's not all on me this time."

"Well, lucky for you and him both that it was you," she grinned. "Otherwise we could be in a much worse position."

Harry sat down next to Hermione, immediately taking her hand between both of his as her head found his shoulder again. He could already feel his heart rate slow a bit. "Has anything changed since her memories came back?"

"I'm afraid not. But I wanted to wait until you were both in here to tell you this. Canceling out your reversed rune will only neutralize it. Unless we stack them, which is hard to do with the same rune, as you know, it will create a more powerful positive, but it won't go back to the way it used to be. Your relationship won't go back to the way it used to be. The negative will always be there. A rune like that... when Harry died, I'm assuming that's when it reversed. Not when the bond broke, but when the relationship was gone. The rune had nothing to latch onto, if that makes sense."

Harry and Hermione both nodded softly, and Hermione pulled her hair over one shoulder. There had to be something else she could do. Her memories were fixed, and she quickly tried to catalog the important moments again from the past month, and as she thought about the final moments of battle, something painful clutched at her heart again, and Harry looked at her quizzically, rubbing his own chest.

"What was that?"

"The last piece," she breathed. "That memory is still there. It doesn't matter if we fix the rune or not. If the bond is still angry with you, who's to say it's not going to try altering my memories again? What if this wasn't a permanent fix and we have to do this all over again every few months so it doesn't get out of hand?" She looked at Ollivander for confirmation, but he just shrugged.

"It's... possible, I'd think. But I'm sorry, I don't know for sure. There hasn't been research done on any of this."

Hermione thought for a moment, looking over at Harry, who was watching her expectantly. She knew she had to fix this, and she would prefer to fix it today. Right now. Draco had helped a lot in restoring her memories, but he wasn't the only one who needed to work on this. She'd asked them all here for a reason. There was only one thing she could think of to do. To permanently erase what was broken. "I want to do the rune," she decided, turning to Professor Babbling. "I want to neutralize the reversed Ehwaz. And then..." No turning back now, was there? "Headmistress, I want you to remove the memory of Harry killing Voldemort."

"Hermione-"

"Harry, I don't need it. I can live without it. I'll hear plenty about it for the rest of my life, so if it means that I need to get one memory gone to be fully right with you again, it's not even a question," she rushed out. "But I want to do the rune, and I want Harry to do it."

Harry's eyes widened, and Babbling smiled. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Positive," Hermione answered in a whisper. She felt, for the first time in her life, that she needed Harry. Truly needed him. And for the first time in her life, needing him didn't feel like such a bad thing. They'd started all of this together, rescuing dragons and solving potion puzzles, and now, they had to end it together. Plus, she wanted him to. It would mean more to her for Harry to do this than a Professor. For Harry to help mend the rune that had lodged itself upside down over her heart. And of course it had been her heart. Harry was her heart, wasn't he?

It didn't take them long to set up for the rune, just as Harry and Hermione had done before: sitting back on their feet, knees touching, with Hermione grinning hopefully as her eyes locked onto his. She reached over to squeeze his hand before they started, and Harry took a deep breath, wiping his hand on his pants to get the sweat off. This was easier - there were no risks this time. They were being supervised by a professional, and they were just fixing things, not starting anything else. It was just one rune; that's what he kept telling himself.

As he drew it in the air and pushed it into her chest, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Harry was shocked that he could feel something even stronger, almost like a click of reconnection. It was dull, but it was there, and it made him take a breath in time with Hermione's. He hadn't realized how in sync they were before, and how out of it they had become, until it was back now. The tightness in his shoulders released, and it seemed like the world around them dissolved. No McGonagall, no Ollivander, no Babbling. Maybe it was just because it meant more this time around. They weren't desperate for protection, only for each other.

When it was all over, Hermione opened her eyes again and Harry felt the urge to kiss her stronger than he had in a long time. In consolation, he reached out to push her hair behind her ear and nearly heard her heart rate increase. "How are you feeling?"

"Amazing," she said with a nod. "Like... like my head's clear again. Quiet. It's not fighting me. At least for the moment."

"Beautiful," Babbling whispered, a soft smile coming over her face. "Excellent work, Harry."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry chuckled, smirking softly. "Third time's the charm, right?"

Babbling just rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back to Hermione. "You're lucky he's cute."

Hermione looked like she was about to say something snarky, but instead, she settled on, "I am, aren't I?" There was a different aura about her now; that was for sure. He almost couldn't wait for this appointment to be over so that he could see what all had changed. If they could finally be together like they'd talking about during all those cold and lonely nights in the tent.

"Would you still like me to remove that memory, Miss Granger?" McGonagall was nervous. They'd never seen her nervous. She was trying to hide it, but her hands were tightly clasped in her lap, as if she didn't quite trust herself to do this correctly.

"Yes," Hermione instantly answered. "Like I said, I don't need it. If the bond is relying on that memory to hold anything against Harry, I'd rather not have it."

A few seconds of tense silence passed before McGonagall answered, "Very well. As long as you're sure."

"I am."

Harry and Hermione moved to sit on the couch again as McGonagall stood in front of them, carefully aiming her wand. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded, letting go to Harry's hand reluctantly so nothing would get caught in the cross, just as Draco had suggested.

"Obliviate."

It was over in only a few seconds as Harry watched in amazement. He'd never seen this spell performed properly, but it was extremely underwhelming. A small sliver of swirling memory disappeared into the tip of McGonagall's wand and she pulled it away, tucking the wood back into her robes. "Now, Miss Granger, what do you remember about the final battle? The last moments."

Frown lines creased Hermione's forehead as she thought back. "We were... we were fighting Voldemort and the snake and it came at Ron and I. And then... I remember it all being over and Harry coming to get me. I must have passed out."

Harry tried to keep his voice steady, taking the risk of telling her the truth without it affecting her. He took her hand again. "I killed him, Hermione. I… I used the killing curse on Voldemort." Worst came to worst, McGonagall could take this memory too.

Hermione's eyes widened for a split second. "I... I told them that at Draco's trial, didn't I? It's not just a rumor? You really used his favorite curse against him?" Harry nodded, and Hermione's face settled into calmness, her soft gaze admirably locked with his as her lips quirked into a grin. "Good."

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