It had taken three full days, but it was done. I had completely wiped myself from Draco's memory. Once again, I had violated the mind of someone I loved, someone who loved me. I had broken the promise I made to myself years ago — to never use magic in that way again — because I knew the destruction it wrought. My parents had never regained their memories after the war, and now Draco would suffer the same fate.

Obliviate .

The one little word that I had now used to push away three people I loved dearly, to make them forget about me while I held on to all my memories of them.

With my small shoulders squared, I left Malfoy Manor, walking down the long path to the gates with all of Draco's memories stored in unbreakable vials. There were hundreds. Maybe closer to a thousand. I had not just used Obliviate , blocking the brain from accessing the memories. No, this time, I had completely removed them by using Legilimency on a sedated Draco, prompting his mind to bring me to the forefront.

He would never be able to remember anything about our affair.

Over the course of two days, I sorted through every memory he had of me from the time we met at age eleven to the most recent — an impassioned bout of lovemaking where I had tried to memorize everything about him.

Anything with any feelings of love was removed. All sexual encounters, kisses, trips, and gifts were extracted.

And then I spent the third day sorting through all his memories of Astoria. His wedding day and honeymoon remained since his emotions were mainly positive and hopeful. While he had been feeling a bit conflicted, likely because of our tryst, he was determined to make things with Astoria work. Watching them make love over and over again on the honeymoon had been pure torture. It had been so different from the way he touched me, and I wondered why. The way my stomach churned only reaffirmed my decision — I was doing the right thing. Remembering how he'd told me that he wasn't attracted to her, my anger blossomed. What I was seeing in his mind clearly contradicted that statement. He was insatiable, and she was beautiful. How could he not be attracted to her?

The night Astoria told him she was pregnant and he had panicked was removed, mainly because he had come running to me. Astoria had a fantasy, one where she told Draco she was pregnant and he was elated, and I had turned it from fantasy into an altered form of reality, superimposing his feelings of love and excitement from a memory of me into Astoria's fantasy.

And so it went. I broke his memories of the past eighteen months down into parts, piecing his feelings from our memories onto memories of Astoria. They felt cohesive enough that he shouldn't question anything. And, if he did, Lucius and Astoria would tell him it was as a result of his injury. I didn't think the plan to call it a flying accident was wise — Draco flew with an ease that not many wizards possessed and was more likely to fall down the stairs than off of a broomstick — but it was their plan, and they would be the ones who had to stick to that story.

I wouldn't see him for more than a passing second on the street ever again.

What I had done to him was truly devious and despicable, something akin to placing him under a love spell. It was wrong on so many levels. I had implanted false feelings, false memories, and I felt like I'd taken away an essential part of what made him the person he was. Our relationship had changed so many things for him, and now it was all gone. I'd introduced him to the Muggle world and educated him in a way that no one else ever would. His prejudice had been completely erased, and he was a better, happier person for it. I'd shown him kindness, compassion, and forgiveness in a way he'd never seen before, and he made it a goal to emulate those things with his own actions. Now, all of the experiences that shaped the new Draco Malfoy didn't exist anymore, and it was all my fault.

When I got home, I immediately started pacing around my living room and crying. I kept rationalizing what I had done, repeating the same things over and over in my head. We had essentially carried on an eighteen-month affair. He had a wife. For the past six months, he'd had a pregnant wife. No matter how much he claimed he loved me, he was still sleeping with Astoria. When I found out, I'd been horrified; he always told me things that made me think they weren't intimate — he didn't want her, he only wanted me. He wasn't attracted to her…

This was honestly for the best. I shouldn't have been okay with being the other witch in his life. I shouldn't have been enabling him to cheat. I needed to let go and move on — he wasn't going to leave her. Lucius would never allow it.

And, the icing on the cake — if I didn't erase myself from Draco's memory, his father was going to travel to Australia and kill my parents. I had no idea how he'd found them; I had only told Kingsley and one healer at St. Mungo's their location when I'd found them, and only the healer, Harry, Ron, and I knew their changed names.

How had I let this happen? How had I let one night of hot sex at The Leaky Cauldron, of all places, turn into such a fucking mess? How had I let myself travel down a path that was sure to lead to heartbreak? How could I remove the truth and plant lies in Draco's mind?

Rationally, I knew I did it for him — I wanted him to be happy in his new life and feel love in his relationship. Since his new life would not include me, I had tried to ensure both of these things in a roundabout way. I knew that erasing his memories, especially without consulting him first, was a selfish thing for me to do. Why should he live his life without love because of a decision that I made for him?

After an hour or so, I finally collapsed on my bed, burying my face in his pillow and breathing in the scent of his cologne and shampoo. It was silly, but it made me feel closer to him. I knew this would hurt, that living with the memory of Draco would be hard. I knew it would gut me to imagine him with Astoria, to know he wouldn't remember me and that he would love her now.

Knowing it would hurt ahead of time hadn't made my reality any easier to deal with.

While I was still blubbering into Draco's pillow, Blaise Zabini came through my Floo. He was the only one who knew the whole story, all of the sordid details, about my affair with Draco. He had found us together after the first night, and he had been the only one to realise we were sneaking around together. He was also Draco's best friend, and he'd somehow morphed into my confidant over the past year.

I heard his footsteps coming towards the bedroom, expensive Italian loafers slapping against the hardwood floors of my hallway. He stopped in the doorway, observing my face-down position.

"Tesoro," he called, using the nickname I absolutely loved and hated simultaneously. "It's time for you to sit up. You need to breathe."

I petulantly ignored him, continuing to sob into the pillow. I heard him approaching the bed, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into a sitting position. He smoothed my wayward curls away from my face and started wiping my tears away with a handkerchief.

"You were supposed to Floo call me when you got back from the Manor today. I didn't want you to be alone, Hermione," he reminded me.

"Blaise, there is nothing you can do. He's gone. My Draco is gone," I choked. "It was my choice, but it still fucking hurts."

Like the sure and steady friend he was, Blaise just held me and let me cry. Eventually, I was so exhausted that I just fell asleep. Rather than going home, he tucked himself into bed beside me. He was there if I needed him and he didn't have any ulterior motives; he didn't want to shag me or anything like that. He just refused to leave me alone since I was in a right state.

Honestly, if anyone had ever told me that I'd fall in love with a married Draco Malfoy, break up with him in the most painful way possible, and then be comforted by Blaise Zabini, I would've told them they'd had too much Firewhisky.

That night, my dreams were haunted by all of the memories I had created for Draco. They played on a loop in my mind, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was good because it reinforced that Draco was gone, and it was bad because it fucking hurt to watch them over and over again. I believed the memories, so I hoped that meant Draco would, too; I wanted him to be happy in his new life, with Astoria and their new baby when he or she arrived in January. He was going to make an excellent father.

When morning came, Blaise Floo called Harry, telling him that we wouldn't be coming to work. I knew Harry was likely already anticipating this; I had confessed my affair with Draco and the plan to Obliviate him to Harry a few weeks prior, and he had been furious with me. He was even more furious that I was going to perform an experimental charm on Malfoy over and over again. It was illegal, and we all — Harry, Blaise, Draco and I — worked for the DMLE. I didn't tell him everything and he was angry I was holding back until I explained to him that he could plead ignorance if things went wrong.

I stayed in bed for most of the day, refusing to do anything or talk to anyone. I could feel the splinters of my heart jabbing at my insides, and my eyes were completely devoid of moisture. I'd cried too much already. Blaise continuously tried to interact with me, but I froze him out, rolling over to face away from him and ignoring whatever he said to me. Harry came by after work to try his luck, and I didn't respond to him, either.

However, Harry returned with Pansy, his wife of three years, and she was never afraid to hurt me with her words.

"How could you do this to him, Granger?!" she shrieked. "I mean, I don't know how you two ended up where you did, but if he was happy after all these years, how could you take that away from him?"

When I didn't answer, she continued, "He's been in a living hell since fifth year. I thought he was happier because he had Astoria! I thought she was the one who had been helping him and changing him. But it's been you the whole damn time. I can see it clearly now. You were the one making him happy!"

I sat up, throwing curses at her with my eyes. "Even if he was happy, what we were doing was wrong, Pansy. Astoria is pregnant ."

She walked over to the bed and stopped in front of me. I thought she was going to do the unfathomable and try to comfort me. Boy, was I wrong.

She looked straight at me and slapped me across the face.

"You carried on an affair with him. Not a short one, but a long-term affair. You made him fall all the way in love with you, and then you violated his fucking mind! Don't you know how hard he worked to learn Occlumency and keep people out of his mind during the war?!"

"Of course I know! We talked about everything, Pansy! This wasn't just a sexual thing! We were in love! I am still in love with him to the point where I feel like I will never be the same!" I shouted, my voice cracking from all of the crying and disuse.

"Good! You should feel that way, Granger! He's certainly never going to be the same again! You might have turned him into a drooling shell of who he used to be!"

Pansy had a knack for finding every insecurity I possessed, even after school had ended for us. She knew exactly how to hit me where it hurt and never held back.

Rubbing my stinging cheek, I rolled my eyes. "For fuck's sake, Pansy! I had a healer there monitoring his brain function the whole time! I'm not a moron!"

"You are a fucking moron! How could you give up true love, Granger? And, if you really did love him, how could you take his happiness away?!"

Blaise stepped in, pulling Pansy away from me. "Pans, we're all upset. You need to sit down and take a breath. What's done is done—"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Blaise! How could you let her do this to him?! He's your best fucking mate! You knew he was obsessed with her from fifth year on!" the dark-haired witch screamed. "You let her destroy him! He may not even be Draco when he wakes up!"

Blaise looked her in the eyes. "No. He'll be Draco when he wakes up, but he'll be the Draco we knew before he married Astoria. He'll have a fascination with Hermione, and he's got a head full of memories of a loving marriage with Astoria now."

Pansy's mouth hung open, making my guilt flare up even more. "Not only did you remove yourself, but you altered his memories of Astoria? He never fucking loved her!"

I covered my face with my hands, not wanting Pansy to see the devastation written across my face. Surely she'd be able to see my insecurities, my doubts, if I let her. I had to defend my actions — this had been the best thing for everyone involved. Of course I knew better than anyone that Draco hadn't loved Astoria. He knew he'd fucked things up when he married her. He'd told me over and over again. He loved me, had always wanted me, and thought he'd never be able to have me.

I got lost in my own thoughts and memories. I could vaguely hear Pansy, Harry, and Blaise talking to each other around me, but I wasn't comprehending what they were saying. Somehow, my refusal to speak had turned into them all shouting at each other. This whole situation was fucked up, and it was all my fault, but it really didn't need to be debated at this point. It was already done.

But I couldn't force myself to make eye contact with any of them and stop the fighting. I was tired. So fucking tired of thinking and feeling. All of my fight was gone.

"Draco isn't innocent in all of this. She tried to avoid him before any of this began. She's tried to break things off with him more than once, but you know what he's like! He wouldn't stop until he had her!" Blaise shouted.

Blaise's defense gave me the nudge I needed. I lifted my head, and I was met with an icy glare from Pansy. "Well, you should have fought harder, Granger! You should have kept your fucking cunt covered and stayed away from him! He was a married man!"

I had forgotten how vulgar Pansy could get when she was pissed off. Her words infuriated me; it wasn't like I had been strutting around the office in crotchless knickers and flashing Draco whenever I had the chance. No, in fact, I had tried to avoid him, just like Blaise had said. However, there weren't many places in the DMLE to hide. I didn't want to tell my superior that I'd had sex with Malfoy while drunk and he wouldn't leave me alone without an encore performance. And, on top of that, I had also been obsessing over him, soaking up the attention he was giving me like I'd never have another man look at me again.

"You think I don't know that?! You think I don't regret sleeping with him the first time?!" I yelled, finally losing the final vestiges of my restraint. "I was drunk, Pansy! Completely pissed off my arse when it all started! But after the first time, neither of us could stop thinking about the other, and I tried my best to stay away from him!"

She just kept glaring at me.

After a few tense moments, she hissed, "I swear to Salazar, Granger, if he wakes up and doesn't remember anything about his life, I will never fucking forgive you. I'm barely holding back right now. I want to cut off your hand so that you can never cast another fucking Obliviate ever again."

More tears, a mix of both devastated and angry, poured from my eyes. "Honestly, I wish you would," I confessed, my heart somehow breaking further.

This seemed to silence everybody for a few minutes. Eventually, Blaise looked over to Harry and Pansy. "She hasn't eaten all day. She's only gotten out of bed once to use the loo."

I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that Harry was going to start mothering me immediately. I didn't want to eat. I couldn't eat. I couldn't do anything. I'd used up every bit of energy I had yelling at Pansy. Why couldn't they leave me in peace to grieve? I just needed a few days to myself before I could talk to anyone else about my fucking feelings because, in that moment, I didn't even really know what I was feeling.

Harry came over and stood beside the bed, looking straight into my bloodshot eyes. "Hermione, do you want me to go to the Burrow? I can get some of your favorite things from Molly."

"No! None of the Weasleys can know about this!" I squeaked.

"I wasn't going to tell them you're not eating because you and Draco Malfoy broke up. I'm not bloody stupid. I was going to tell Molly that you're ill," he explained.

"No, Harry. Honestly, I just want to be left alone for a few days. Give me this week to sort myself out a bit."

I watched as they all looked at each other. It was obvious they didn't trust me to care for myself. Blaise looked to me and said, "I'm coming every day to check on you, Hermione. I don't care what you say. If you ward the Floo and stop me from Apparating in, I'll take down your wards. I know how to do it."

"Fine," I replied, my tone sullen. "I'm not planning on doing much of anything. Come back whenever you'd like."

"And I'm not leaving now until you bloody well eat something and have some water," Harry added. "Get your arse out of bed and into the kitchen."

With a sigh, my feet hit the cold floor and I wrapped myself in a bathrobe; I had only been wearing a sleep tank and pyjama shorts and the autumn air made me shiver. I walked towards the kitchen and Harry caught up, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He kissed the top of my head, just like he'd done a thousand times since we'd met. Like always, his touch raised mixed emotions in me. We'd had our struggles and drifted apart after the war, but he was still the closest thing I had to a family.

"I love you, Hermione. I might not agree with the choices you made when it comes to Malfoy, but I want to be here for you regardless," he said, trying to soothe me.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes again. I had disappointed Harry, and that was somehow worse than disappointing myself. Maybe because I knew I had such lofty expectations for myself, or maybe because Harry and I hadn't had a true fight, one with screaming and hurtful words being thrown, since third year, until this affair came to light. Mostly, our arguments in adulthood had involved drifting apart and stony silences.

"I know, Harry. I love you, too."

I spent most of the week sleeping. When I was conscious, I was thinking about Draco. I wanted to know if he had woken yet, what his mental state was. Was he confused? Did he feel like there was something missing? I wanted to know what Lucius and Astoria had told him. Did they really go with the flying accident story? Was he overjoyed at the prospect of being a father now? Or was he still afraid?

And when I moved around my house, I kept encountering things that made me cry. Every little trinket or piece of jewellery or book that he'd ever given me brought tears to my eyes. After the first few days, I started to pack everything up. Even though that hurt, it was more painful to constantly be reminded of Draco. Every item held a distinct memory for me — one of a caring, loving Draco that I would never see again — and I couldn't stop replaying them in my head with all the items scattered throughout the house.

Blaise kept his word, coming to check on me every single day. He brought me food I couldn't possibly resist. Rather than losing weight, I was sure I'd start gaining it. Plates upon plates of pasta and cheese and Italian desserts found their way into my house. One night, he even brought enough to feed four people and, sure enough, Harry and Ron came through my Floo. Unfortunately, we all had to lie to Ron, which was difficult. Harry had told him that I was seeing someone in France, and I'd broken things off because I didn't want to move there.

I was so sick of my life being filled with lies, but I couldn't help it — I wasn't about to tell Ronald Weasley, the most judgmental human being on the planet, that I'd been fucking a married man for over a year. Oh, and nevermind what would happen if I uttered the name Draco Malfoy in his presence. He'd be off on a two-day tangent.

I tried to act normally. I tried to read both fiction and nonfiction. I tried to write both creatively and scholarly. But nothing felt normal. Nothing was coming out right.

Somewhere along the way, I'd lost myself. I didn't know what I enjoyed anymore. I was so used to just reading a chapter of a book to pass the time until Draco could get away. Most nights, he'd have dinner with Astoria and then come to my house. Or, if we were really lucky, he'd tell her he was on assignment and spend a few days with me. She had never questioned him.

Obviously, that had all started to change when she got pregnant.

On the fifth day of my self-imposed isolation, I put on a pair of jeans and a warm jumper, along with a pair of tall boots I could easily tuck my wand into the side of. I walked outside and tilted my face up towards the sun, feeling the warmth of the rays on my skin. It was a lovely autumn day and I decided to go for a walk. My house was isolated, basically a small cottage on the edge of the woods, and there was a path through the trees that led to a small village. If I followed the path, the walk would be a little over a mile.

I had recently invested in an iPod, so I slipped my headphones in for the walk. Unfortunately, the shuffle feature on this device must have been designed to play the kinds of songs I wanted to hear the least — love songs, songs about heartbreak — poured into my ears, and I found myself walking along the path with tears flowing. When I glanced to my left, I swore I could almost see Draco, could almost feel his body heat against my arm and his fingers laced through mine. We had taken this walk together numerous times and I could clearly picture him beside me, his white-blond hair illuminated by the afternoon sun.

I was well and truly losing it.

By the time I reached the edge of town, I had managed to settle down. There were a few small restaurants, a coffee shop, a few privately owned stores selling anything from clothing to yarn and knitting supplies to cigarettes, and a very small grocer. I looked around and saw that most of the shops were open. Steeling myself, I walked into the small coffee shop, hoping I'd be able to stomach a pastry and a coffee. I had to regain my strength and return to work this week.

When I walked through the door, the woman who generally worked the morning shift smiled at me. "Good morning, Hermione! On your own today?"

Another stab to the gut.

"I am," I replied. "Do you have any good muffins this morning? I'm feeling a bit hungry."

She nodded and began preparing my usual cinnamon latte. "Apple or pumpkin? We've got all of the autumn flavors going!"

Pumpkin always reminded me of meals at Hogwarts or pumpkin pasties on the train, and I was feeling thoroughly non-magical at the moment.

"Apple," I replied.

"Just the one? Or will you be meeting Draco later on? I know he loves apple things from last autumn!" the woman exclaimed.

Of course. She's female and has a set of eyes. I'm sure she was sad that I was alone, not bringing a handsome man along with me today.

"Just me. Draco… well, he won't be around anymore," I said, ripping the plaster off. The few pieces of my heart I'd managed to glue back together crumbled again.

She pursed her lips, clearly uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. She settled on, "I'm sorry to hear that, Hermione."

I just nodded and pulled out my Muggle money, paying her for the latte and the apple pastry. Not willing to be scrutinized, I stepped out onto the porch of the coffee shop. I sat at one of the small cafe tables, prepared to drink my coffee and eat what I could. As soon as the first sip of latte passed my lips, I sighed. It was perfect, as usual, and it warmed me up from the inside out. My stomach didn't immediately revolt, so I opened the small paper bag and took the pastry out.

I looked down at it. How had I already forgotten he loved apple? Maybe I should've gone with the pumpkin, after all. Hogwarts held no positive memories of Draco for me.

I broke off a piece and popped it into my mouth, and it was delicious. The woman was right — he would've loved it. However, I didn't let myself get caught up in that thought; I had errands to run. I needed to purchase food that was not pasta and cheese, I had to post a letter to Monica and Wendell in Australia via the Muggle mail system, and I had to stay out of my house for at least another two hours. I needed sun and fresh air and to start trying to move on.

I made it through my to-do list robotically. I purchased fruit and green vegetables. I made sure to buy some coffee for my pot at home, along with milk and some sugar so I wouldn't have to go back into town for a pick-me-up and see the pity in their eyes. Next, I walked to the post office and sent the letter that should've been mailed days ago, wishing my parents a happy wedding anniversary and promising a visit next year. Despite the pain it caused me, I still traveled to Australia to see them every other year, posing as the daughter of a cousin who had business in Australia from time to time. Even if they didn't know I was their daughter, I still knew they were my parents, and I wouldn't completely abandon them.

After I was through with the two main tasks, I still had another hour to kill, so I stopped into the knitting supply store. It had been years since I had knitted, but I imagined it would help me to pass the time over the weekend. I was going to try making something for Harry and Pansy's baby. Oddly enough, the newest Potter would arrive around the same time as the Malfoy heir. Ron and Luna had also welcomed a little girl last year — Stella — and I was going to knit her something, as well.

Inwardly, I laughed. Ginny and I had been so sure that we'd be the ones married to Harry and Ron, starting families at a young age. Instead, here I was, alone after having an affair with a married man, and Ginny was also alone, traveling the world with her Quidditch team, probably having the time of her life. Pansy and Luna had quickly filled our places after we'd managed to muck up our post-war relationships.

I thought on that a bit more as I made the journey back through the woods. Would I have been better off if I'd just settled down with Ron? Could I have been happy, ensconced in the Weasley family?

Maybe.

But then I never would've fallen in love with Draco. Despite how things had ended, I couldn't fathom never experiencing that kind of love, the kind of intensity I felt with him, like my world both started and ended with him, everything in between filled with the stolen moments between us. Before him, it was something I'd only ever read about in old novels.

The tears threatened again, but I managed to hold them back. I was determined not to cry when I went back to work, so I needed to practice now. I couldn't be seen weeping around the office.

When I arrived home, there was an owl perched on my window. I froze, knowing exactly who it was from. I just stared at it, and it looked back at me curiously.

I entered the house, motioning for the owl to fly in through the door. Perching on the back of a dining chair, it held its leg out to me. I untied the thick parchment scroll and unrolled it.

Ms. Granger,

He's awake, and it appears you've done your job properly. He doesn't remember a thing from the past year and a half. You are officially gone from his life, and he is looking at Astoria like she hung the moon.

Do take care, and make sure you avoid him at all costs. I wouldn't want him to have another broom accident.

LM

It was over. Draco didn't remember anything other than what I'd allowed him to, and he felt something resembling love for Astoria.

In my head, I sent my thoughts towards him.

I will hold on to the memory of you. I'll remember everything for both of us.

Author's Note: The response to the tiny first chapter has absolutely blown me away. Thank you all so much for reading.

If you want to know how Harry and Pansy started out, I have a couple of one-shots on AO3 linked to the main story. I may eventually add more to their story, but no promises! I'm busy typing away on this one at the moment.

Let me know how you feel about Hermione. We'll see Draco next Saturday.

As always, love to my Alpha/Beta team. They've helped me so much along the way with this one.