I had been staying with Harry and Pansy for over a month, and I was slowly starting to feel better. Since Grimmauld Place had an unoccupied top floor, I made that my own space. Harry and Pansy ensured I came to meals, but other than that they left me to my own devices. I found myself wanting to spend time with James and Severus, so I chose to come out on my own more often than not. Every night, I would read a book to James at bedtime. I would sit up with Sev when he was fussy and Harry and Pansy needed a night off. Both boys radiated unconditional love and I was always willing to bask in it.

When Blaise found out I had almost hospitalized myself again, he was furious. I told him the whole story about the anniversary and seeing the photos in the paper. I was honest about not eating or drinking anything substantial all weekend and my fight with Harry. It had been a very difficult conversation, and he felt guilty for being away, despite my near-constant reminders that he was working and couldn't be expected to just come to me at the drop of a hat.

While Blaise was happy I finally had the long overdue conversation with Harry, he was upset that I hadn't reached out for help sooner. He offered me a place to stay and told me his door and Floo were always open for me. Since then, he had been making it a point to either have lunch or invite me to dinner a few times a week, likely to make sure I was eating. I was sure Harry had enlisted his help.

Three times a week, I went to St. Mungo's to meet with Penelope. We talked about everything that popped into my mind and I eventually invited Harry to come to a session with me. Explaining my feelings to Harry about the years he'd essentially been absent from my life was easier with her there. When I couldn't express myself properly, she was able to step in and help. It was strange at first, but I really felt she understood me in a way that no one else ever had. With Penelope's help, Harry and I were getting to know each other again and working through our issues. We may have been different people than we were four years ago, but we still held a lot of love for one another. Non-romantic love, of course — the thought of Harry Potter naked just made my face flame and stomach turn.

However, even though I'd basically repaired one friendship, the next step was bringing Ron in. When we finally did that, I knew things would get harder. Ron had never really forgiven me for our break up and I wasn't sure he ever would. He had been far more invested in our relationship than I had been and I'd hurt him deeply. While Ron had moved on and married very quickly, Harry told me that it had been a struggle for him.

One drunken mistake had changed the course of a handful of lives. Copious amounts of alcohol clearly spelled relationship trouble for me, and it was definitely on my list of things to avoid. Penelope and Harry both agreed — I couldn't party my way through the pain.

But I also couldn't keep living the way I had been.

In private, Harry and I had decided I needed to tell Ron the truth about Draco. He'd never understand what was truly going on with me unless I did. I knew it was going to be a fight of epic proportions, but I was hopeful we'd be able to slowly move past everything afterwards.

And Pansy, well, she'd been a godsend. I don't know when it happened, but we became friends. If I moped for more than a day, she would find a way to pull me out of it. A few times, she'd simply asked me to go to the park with her and the boys or sent me out to Diagon Alley. She gave me purpose when I needed it to ground me. While my job also did that, I didn't want to make my whole life about work. It hadn't been helpful in the past and I thought it might actually be a hindrance to me right now. There were too many memories of Draco within the DMLE, especially in my office, and spending more time there seemed like a horrible idea.

After a while, the days started to blend together again. Being part of a unit, both at home and at work, had helped me to regain my balance. Talking through my feelings a few times a week certainly didn't hurt, either. I was writing in my journal less and less. Spilling my heart to Draco like I was some silly teenage girl just didn't feel right anymore. I still loved him, but I didn't think I'd be able to move on while I was still making him my focus.

Evening after evening, I considered trying to put myself back out there. I knew I didn't want to be alone forever. While I loved functioning as part of Harry's family, I wanted to create one of my own and I couldn't do that by myself. Sure, adoption was always a possibility for me, but I wanted a partner. I wanted someone to go to bed with every night and wake up with every morning.

And I missed sex. A lot.

I'd been keeping the letter I received from Narcissa Malfoy, along with the photo of Draco and Scorpius, folded up inside my journal. From time to time, I'd take it out and read it over. One thing she'd said really stood out to me, and I was so terrified it was true that I didn't want to try to be with anyone else.

I'm sure you feel empty without him, like all of the fire that once lived inside of you has been doused. Other men look at you, but you can never look back at them because you know nothing will ever compare to being loved by a Malfoy. No one will ever consume you and make you feel so deeply.

When I considered that statement, I knew the first part was true. My inner fire was surprisingly absent most days. I was lucky if I felt a strong emotion other than sadness. My anger would flare occasionally, but not in the way it used to.

Was it true that I'd never be able to look at another man the same way? Would I honestly never feel for someone deeply again?

Thinking back to the months before the affair started, I remembered the deep loneliness I'd felt, like no one wanted to take a chance on me. They were either intimidated by my hero status or assumed I'd constantly have my nose stuck in a book. Somehow, Draco had seen through all of that for years — he'd just never acted on his feelings until it was too late.

If I had to go the rest of my life without love similar to what I'd felt with Draco, I'd be devastated. As badly as things had ended, I'd never felt more alive than when we were together. I wanted to wake up every morning and experience every minute of every day fully. He'd given me something that no one else ever had and I was still eternally grateful for that. I knew no two loves could ever be the same, but I wanted to find something that came close.

The problem was that I didn't really know how to meet people and date. Spending half my life in the office limited the dating pool and I had already decided I would never, ever go there again. Interoffice romance was definitely disastrous, especially once it was over. I was fortunate enough to not see Draco every single day, but I'd watched others deal with the fallout after the fact. I was not interested in moving to a different department within the Ministry just because of a failed relationship.

As embarrassing as it was, I resolved to ask Penelope what she thought I should do to try to meet people. I wasn't willing to go the bar route again. I was sure that Hannah would kill me if I started haunting the Leaky like I'd used to. Despite the obvious complications it would present, I was considering trying my hand at dating in the Muggle world. Pansy rolled her eyes whenever I mentioned it, saying I'd violate the Statute of Secrecy within ten minutes since I only knew how to talk about magical topics I'd read about in old books. I always responded with a glare and she would smile at me sweetly.

Even though we had become friendly, I often found myself wondering why Harry had married Pansy of all people. They were the most unlikely pair, but they somehow complemented each other perfectly. Always in sync, always cautious of the other's feelings. It was almost eerie sometimes.

On this particular Thursday night, I felt like I had to write in the journal. It had been nearly two weeks since I'd even opened it and I was feeling guilty. As inappropriate as that was, I needed to get my emotions and words out. I sat at the small desk I'd set up in the bedroom at Grimmauld Place and took the little purple volume out of my handbag. I looked at the photo of Draco and Scorpius for the millionth time and sighed. I'd never seen a more beautiful child, and his father was still as handsome as he'd been two years ago when this whole mess had started.

I had plenty of other photos of Draco, but the happiness illuminating his face was so pure that I couldn't look away. Throughout our tumultuous relationship, we'd always been in hiding. There was no chance for us to fully let go and just be. In this photo, he was free and happy, openly showing every emotion he felt on his face. The baby he'd been so terrified to have was the light in his life and I was so happy he'd embraced fatherhood. I ran a finger over Draco's face and then Scorpius's, wishing I could really touch them.

But I knew that would never happen.

In Draco's mind, we'd never even formed a friendship, nevermind a sexual or emotional relationship. We were co-workers, polite acquaintances who had gone to school together when we were younger. Nothing more, nothing less. We exchanged books around the holidays and cordial greetings the rest of the year. The thought that we were actually even less than that now hurt me more than I wanted to admit. With a sigh, I began writing.

Dear Draco,

I think I'm actually getting a bit better finally. I know, it's taken me so long. Strangely, Pansy Parkinson-Potter is the one who has helped me the most, save Penelope. She really is a great friend when she wants to be. I never understood why you kept her around when we were younger, but I get it now. After you get used to her attitude and quirks, she's quite wonderful. Merlin, I never thought I'd be saying something like that. Although I never thought I'd fall in love with a world-class git like you, either. I guess life can be full of surprises.

I know it's been awhile since I've written in this journal, but I'm trying to move on. Sometimes I feel like writing to you holds me back, you know? If I'm telling you I love you all the time, will it ever stop? Because, while I don't want it to stop, I think I need it to. You're gone, and I can't let you be the centre of my universe anymore. I'm hoping that I'll be able to let pieces of you back in somewhere down the road. I like to imagine us crossing paths in Diagon Alley or maybe on Platform 9 ¾ one day. Even if I never have my own children, I can see myself there with James and Severus, sending them off for a very different seven years than we got at school.

I wonder what you'll look like eleven years from now. Will your eyes still haunt my dreams, even then?

I'm going to tell Ron about what happened between us and I'm terrified it will make things worse. We know he was never your biggest fan, especially after Auror training. I always told him he needed to study more, but did he ever listen to me? Of course not.

It's so strange — I've received letters from both of your parents and had a civil conversation with your father. Those are two things I never would've imagined possible. Sadly, they're not in the context I'd like them to be in. I wish it could've happened before you were married, that I had worked harder to reach out to the families from the other side of the war to express that I held no hard feelings. Maybe then, your father would've grown to like me or respect me and you would have approached me before you were married. Maybe we could've been happy.

Do you see what I mean, love? Every time I start to feel a bit better, these what-if scenarios start spinning in my head, and half the time I feel guilty for something that I can't change now. I need it all to stop if I'm ever going to move on. So, here it goes. I'm going to apologise for something and try to start the process of letting go.

After your anniversary, I realised that I never really stopped to consider my options. Once your father threatened my parents and told me what to do, I just went with it. The guilt that had been eating me up, along with the additional threat… It just made something snap inside of me. I had tried to end things more than once before, and this seemed like a means to an end, a way that I could really put a stop to everything. I knew that we'd never really be able to let go if we both had a choice, so I took yours away. I am truly sorry I did that to you; I know it was all kinds of wrong.

Even more so than that, I know it was unfair to take your memories and leave you with nothing. At the very least, I can still remember the way it felt to be with you, to kiss you, to make love to you. Merlin, I don't know if I'll ever feel that kind of physical connection with someone ever again. Half of me really doesn't want to, I think. I want to believe that there was a reason we carried on the way we did, a reason why I'm suffering through all this heartache now that you're not here.

I just… miss you. Everything about you. For the longest time, while I was constantly upset and crying, I wanted to run to you so you could hold me. Remembering over and over again that wasn't possible was a whole new kind of emotional torture. Oh, and then there are the people in the little town I live on the outskirts of! They were all so accustomed to seeing us together. They asked after you for weeks, so I started avoiding the place. Eventually, though, I needed my special coffee, and I knew it wasn't healthy to avoid everything that reminded me of you. Not that it was possible, anyway. I'd have to quit my job and move out of my house to reach that level of avoidance. I suppose I'm halfway there now since I've been at Harry's for over a month.

But, at the very least, I know you're a little bit happy. Your mother was kind enough to send me a photo of you holding Scorpius. I'm being entirely genuine and not sarcastic at all. I was happy to see it. He honestly looks just like you — your spitting image. I do hope that the girls his age will be prepared once he grows into his features. By fifteen, he'll be completely gorgeous and everyone will want to be his date to Hogsmeade. I'll have to warn Ron and Luna, even though their daughter will be a year ahead of Scorpius.

I do hope that we can maybe become acquainted again someday — when I'm feeling better and it hopefully won't hurt as much to see you. Though the thought of being around you again does scare me if I ever do find someone else.

Please forgive me — for the Obliviation, for not thinking about it like I should have, for being selfish and wanting to hold on to the memories when you don't get to. And for not writing as much as I was before. Like I said, I need to start letting go, and constantly spilling my heart out to you isn't going to help with that at all.

I still love you, so very much. I wish things were different every day, but there is really no sense in that. Wishes don't change anything, and I haven't got a time-turner, so we're stuck where we are for the moment. I hope that your love for Scorpius outweighs what we lost.

Hermione

Blaise entered my office one evening, dressed in his normal Auror robes, and closed the door softly. His dark eyes surveyed me and he forced a smile. I could feel that something was off; he'd never been one to fake his emotions. Clearly worried, he stepped forward.

"Hermione," he began. "There is someone here to see you, and I'm honestly not sure if I should let them through. I know you've been doing a bit better, but—"

I didn't hear the rest of Blaise's words; my heart had started pounding in my ears and my thoughts were swirling in my head like a tornado.

Was it Draco? Did he remember something? Was he here to confront me and demand that I return his memories? Had Astoria told him? Was he leaving her? Was there something wrong? Could he not form new memories? Sweet Morgana, I hoped that wasn't the case.

Blaise grabbed my shoulders and brought me back to reality. "Did you even hear a single thing I said?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I… Who's here to see me, Blaise?"

"Narcissa Malfoy," he sighed. "I told her that I didn't think it was a good idea, and she kindly reminded me about how she essentially took me in over school breaks when my mother had a husband I didn't like. The woman is a snake."

Swallowing hard, I asked, "Did she tell you why she was here?" Blaise shook his head, gesturing that he had no idea. I mentally debated for a minute, trying to weigh the pros and cons of speaking with Draco's mother. After all, she had written me that letter, and I'd never responded. "Let her in. I'll be fine."

He looked at me sceptically, but opened the door and strode out, going to fetch Narcissa. This gave me time to pull out a compact and check my reflection. At least I hadn't been playing with my hair all day and it was still somewhat styled. I was sure Draco's mother would look impeccable as always. When Blaise brought her in, leading her by the elbow like a proper pureblood gentleman, my assumption was confirmed. Her deep purple robes were perfectly tailored to her tall, lithe form and her hair was straight and sleek. When she met my eyes, she smiled at me and I couldn't understand why. I reciprocated, hoping she couldn't see my confusion.

"Ms. Granger, thank you for seeing me," she stated. "I wanted to chat with you about…"

I gestured for Blaise to close the door. Looking her in the eyes, I asked, "About Draco? It's fine — Blaise knows everything. You can speak freely in front of him."

With a frown, she turned to Blaise. "How long did you know about their relationship, Blaise?"

"Since the very beginning," he admitted. "I found them together the morning after the stag party and I figured out they'd started things up after Draco's birthday."

I felt my cheeks heating and watched as she glared at him. "And you let him marry Astoria?"

Blaise nodded, confirming what I obviously already knew to Narcissa.

"Well, then you're just as stupid and blameworthy as my husband is for this whole mess, Blaise. I'm so very disappointed in you," she scolded.

A grown man — twenty-six years old, to be exact — looked chastened by Narcissa's remarks. He didn't speak, likely knowing that she'd not take kindly to excuses. As lovely and proper as she was, she was just like any other mother, and everyone already knew how fiercely protective she was of Draco, given her actions in the final battle.

Was it possible she could have been an ally for me through all of this? She'd essentially said as much in her letter, but I'd only half-believed her. It was an easy thing to write to a distressed girl, but I could see the fiery look in her eyes when she spoke to Blaise.

When she turned to me, I didn't know what to say. Was there an appropriate way to speak to a terrifying witch whose son you had a torrid affair with?

"Dear, I wish you'd have written back to me. I've been very worried about you," she began. "Lucius often thinks of you, as well."

I snickered. "I doubt Lucius really cares if I live or die, Mrs. Malfoy, as long as I stay away from Draco."

"On the contrary. He is quite regretful since he spoke to you a few months ago. And please, call me Narcissa."

"Narcissa, I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?" I asked, not sure how long I could maintain the guise of civil conversation, even if she'd done nothing wrong.

She looked at me with pity and it stung. "Well, like I said, you never responded to me. You've not been seen in public for quite some time. I wanted to check in on you." She paused, her eyes scanning over me. "Honestly, it doesn't matter if Draco doesn't remember that he cared for you. I know he did, and I feel like I should be checking in on you for him. If you mattered to him before, you matter to me now."

I didn't know what to say so I just stared at her, my eyes filling a bit and my lips likely quivering.

Acting as my protector, Blaise stepped around my desk, placing his palm on my shoulder. "Narcissa, she's trying to move on. She knows that Draco cared for her, but the fact of the matter is, he just doesn't anymore. He doesn't remember their relationship at all and she made him think he loves Astoria. I don't think she needs you and Lucius reminding her of what she's lost."

"That wasn't my intention," the older woman breathed. "I just wish — I wanted him to be happy. I wanted Draco to have something for himself."

Blaise nearly laughed, which was completely inappropriate given the situation. "I'm sure you did, but Lucius… he'll never really change. He might be okay with the idea of Hermione and Draco now that he's got a little pureblood heir to carry on the lineage, but he obviously didn't feel that way before."

Turning away from Narcissa, I looked at Blaise. I couldn't understand why he cared, why he was so willing to say these things to a woman he'd known his whole life in my defence. Yes, we were very close now, but we hadn't always liked each other. He was speaking to her like I imagined Harry would if given the chance.

"Blaise, you don't know what you're talking about," Narcissa responded. "You haven't had a proper conversation with Lucius since before the war, nevermind since October. If Draco had come to us—"

"He would've told Draco he was already married and to stop carrying on with his Mudblood slag," I interjected. "Or, if he was trying to be a bit nicer, maybe he would've used the word Muggle-born. Do you think Draco and I never discussed this? He wanted to leave Astoria, but as long as Lucius is alive, he'd need to sign off on the divorce because wizarding society is bloody ridiculous."

Narcissa's face showed no discernible emotion. "It is ridiculous, but if Draco had talked to us, I'm sure Lucius would have come around."

"If that's the case, wouldn't he have asked Draco about our relationship before coming to me?" I questioned. "Why would he just do whatever Astoria told him to do? Why would he go looking for a way to hurt me?"

And then a thought struck me — something I hadn't considered before. Before Narcissa could answer me, I asked, "And how did he manage to find my parents? There aren't many people who know that secret."

Her lips parted slightly. "Hermione, I think that's something you should ask Lucius. I'm sure he'd be willing to meet with you somewhere."

The thought of another conversation with Lucius Malfoy made my stomach turn over violently. I felt like I could go my whole life without speaking to him again. "I don't really need to know. I don't think anyone else would be cruel enough to use them against me."

Narcissa looked away, clearly embarrassed by the whole situation.

"So you've checked up on me. I'm alive and well. Was there anything else?" I asked, hoping to bring this awkward interaction to a close. I knew I was being rude, but her attitude about the whole situation was bothering me. In no reasonable universe would I ever willingly speak to Lucius Malfoy, and she should have known that.

Narcissa opened her handbag. "I wanted you to have these back. Lucius was going to get rid of them, but I thought you might want them. They were inside one of the books you gave Draco."

My eyes moved to what was in her hand — a photo strip from a Muggle photo booth in New York City. Draco and I were laughing and smiling and, just like any other couple, we shared a kiss in the last photo. I remembered his response to the instantly developed photos. He'd insisted we do it again so we'd each have a strip. Mine had been tucked away in the trunk with all of the gifts he'd given me, save for the books.

I reached out to accept the photo strip, my fingers trembling. Even though I didn't want to look at the photos, I couldn't bear the thought of them being thrown away or burned by Lucius. She watched me carefully as my eyes roamed the strip, completely lost in the memory and examining Draco's face. When I touched his cheek, I remembered myself — I was sitting with Blaise and Narcissa. I stood and grabbed a book from the shelf, tucking the little memento inside of it. It seemed fitting; there were so many memories shared in this office already and the book I'd chosen was one he'd given me.

I could still feel Narcissa's eyes on me. When I placed the book back on the shelf, I murmured, "Thank you. I'm glad you didn't let him get rid of them. What did he do with the books?"

Blaise snickered, earning himself a glare from both women in the room. Narcissa spoke softly. "Draco wanted to keep the books to read later. He obviously doesn't remember them."

My heart pounded in my chest. "Did you… Did Lucius open the covers? There are inscriptions inside of each one. We usually cast a charm to make them invisible, but I'm not sure when he last looked at them. If he sees what's written in some of them, he may have questions…"

She waved me off. "I'm sure he did. He found the pictures, right?" Pausing, she reached into her handbag again. "I also have another picture of Draco and Scorpius if you'd like to see it. It's from last week."

With a sigh, I nodded. I was weak, but I couldn't resist seeing his face again. When she passed the photo, I took it, gently holding it between my fingers like it might vanish if I held on too hard. Draco looked tired but happy. A smile spread across his face as he lifted Scorpius into the air, making him smile and laugh. I'd never been so grateful for the way wizarding photos captured motion.

My eyes moved back to Narcissa. "I'm glad he's so happy. I always thought he'd be a wonderful father, even if the very idea of it terrified him."

"I'm sure you instilled some confidence in him, Ms. Granger," she commented. "I know you were trying to do the best you could for him."

Always. I would always do the best I could to make him happy, including staying away from him now.

With a sigh, I handed the photo back to her. "I can't keep this. Thank you for showing me he's doing well, though. How is his brain function?"

"He's basically back to normal. He gets frustrated that he can't remember certain things. I think his brain tries to make connections when he sees or hears certain things, but it obviously can't. Most recently, it happened when he was reading a text on runes."

Runes. It made me remember the many nights we'd spent, him writing the symbols on my skin with his fingertips, making me promises that he never kept. Love. Loyalty. Devotion. Protection. Need. New beginnings and family. Promises he'd never kept to me, anyway.

I cleared my throat. "That makes sense, actually. We used to talk about runes a lot, and depending on the book, he likely used it for a lot of research. Is he forming new memories with no problem?"

Narcissa nodded. "No problem at all. It's remarkable, actually. I admit I was quite worried at first."

I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the only permanent damage done was seemingly to my heart and mental state. "That's good. I'm so happy to hear it."

I felt an arm wrap around my waist and startled a bit before looking into my friend's eyes. I had almost forgotten Blaise was even there; he had just been letting me interact with Narcissa freely. Grounded by his presence, I felt strong enough to speak openly to Narcissa. When I faced her again, I said, "I'm really trying to move on with my life. I'm seeing a healer and repairing the friendships I let go while I was involved with Draco. I appreciate you coming by, but I really can't keep being dragged towards the past. I'll never heal, Narcissa. Please, just take care of Draco."

She stood from the chair she'd settled into in front of my desk. "Of course I will. I didn't mean to cause you pain, Hermione. We just… We know we've made so many mistakes over the years, especially in regards to Draco. He's been pressured into things he didn't want time and time again. I hate that Lucius's decision is causing you so much pain and I know Draco is hurting, too. Even if he doesn't realize what it is, he knows something is missing."

Blaise squeezed me tighter and I noticed her eyes move to his hand on my waist. Knowing the wheels in her head were spinning, likely assuming I'd started a relationship with Draco's best friend, I stayed quiet. Maybe if she thought I'd moved on with Blaise, she'd stay away.

"Goodnight, then," Narcissa said, turning and letting herself out of my office, closing the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Blaise wrapped me fully in his arms, tucking my head under his chin. "Tesoro, you're okay. I don't know why she felt the need to come here, but I won't let her in again. The Malfoys never seem to quit while they're ahead."

"I know she meant well," I replied, my words muffled against his chest. "I just can't, Blaise. I just fucking can't keep imagining the what-ifs and the lost possibilities."

His hand stroked over my hair, likely making an even bigger mess of it. "I know. You've been doing so well, though. Don't give up."

I won't. I can't. I need to be here in the present for James and Severus and Harry and Blaise. Even Pansy. I need to stay on track. I will stay on track. I'll come to work, go back to Grimmauld Place and I'll dote on my godchildren. Maybe I'll move back home by the end of summer.

I can do this.