Lucius — 7th June 2007

It was well past seven in the evening when my office Floo rang, and I was shocked to see Hermione Granger's head in the grate.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need to come through," she said, her voice panicked.

With a sigh, I replied, "Give me two minutes to adjust the wards."

If I was honest with myself, I had been waiting for a call like this ever since Draco had gone back to work. Something had gone wrong. My elaborate scheme had fallen to pieces.

When she stepped out, she was frantic, immediately starting to pace a path into my floor with her high heels. They were clicking at an alarmingly loud volume for such tiny shoes.

"I don't know what happened," she began, her words coming quicker than I'd ever heard. "But I was in the lift with Draco and out of nowhere he started making a sound like he couldn't breathe. I turned to face him and his eyes were unfocused, and then they closed. I couldn't get him to focus on me, no matter what I did. I even grabbed his arm."

"Where is he?" I asked.

There were tears filling her eyes. "Please, just let me finish. I need to get it all out. He looked at me and then he got even more confused. It hasn't happened until now, and we've been working together for a month. I don't know what was different, other than we were working on a case together today and spent a good amount of time in my office." Pausing, she sucked in a breath. "And then he said there were just too many people in the lift. As soon as the doors opened, he was gone."

"Where is my son?" I hissed.

She still had to look up at me, even with the added height. "I don't know. He ran for the Floo and I didn't hear his destination. I called you as soon as I could."

And even though I knew this wasn't her fault, I lashed out. "You stupid girl! How could you agree to work with him?!"

"Me? You're calling me stupid?" she spat. "You are the one who didn't talk him out of coming back to work. You are the one who forced me to Obliviate him in the first place! This whole plan was yours and now that it's backfiring, you want to blame someone else."

Her words cut me, especially since I knew they were true.

"How do you know it's backfiring?" I asked. "He's not had any problems up to this point."

She halted and turned towards me, her eyes filled with tears. "Because I know him. I know when he's scared, or hurting, or confused. I know when he's happy and when he's just putting on a mask for the world."

"You knew him. He's not the same as he was before," I replied.

Levelling a glare, she said, "I didn't change who he was. I just removed myself and tried to make him believe that he loved Astoria. He's still the same person under those lies. He's confused, and I don't know what happened, but he's going to start digging if he remembered something that doesn't fit."

"I thought that wasn't possible?"

"I don't know what triggered him in the lift, but there could've been something innocuous that he remembered," she began. "A normal lift ride in the Ministry wouldn't have been something that I removed. Only if he'd been touching me in some way."

Of course that made sense; she wouldn't have been able to erase every single time they'd seen each other without it being glaringly obvious what was missing. I started thinking about what could've prompted him to start remembering something.

Looking to Hermione, I asked, "Nothing stands out to you?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. We were examining some runes today for his case. He went to Diagon Alley. He picked up lunch at the Leaky since he was going to be there anyway. We worked in my office. He overheard a conversation between me and Blaise…"

"Did you say anything that he'd be able to dissect?"

"No, Blaise is just away in Italy, and he's been… overbearing. It's the first time he's had to leave for more than a day or so since Draco came back to work," she admitted. "He's worried that something will happen."

"And it has," I stated.

Wrapping her arms around her waist, Hermione said, "It really hasn't. Don't you think that he would've been furious with me if he'd remembered anything significant from our relationship?"

She was right, as usual.

"We need to find him. I'm going to Floo call Astoria."

She moved to the side, giving me a clear path to the fireplace. I stuck my head in and found myself in Draco's kitchen. Astoria rushed to the hearth.

"Is Draco home yet?"

"No, he's not," she responded, her voice full of alarm. "Why are you calling?"

"We might have a… problem," I began. "Draco was riding in the lift with a certain coworker of his—"

"What has that homewrecker done now?" Astoria interrupted.

I was glad Hermione wouldn't be able to hear the slight since my head was currently in Draco's fireplace.

"Nothing. She came straight to me as soon as she could," I answered. "He seems to have remembered something, though Ms. Granger is under the impression that it has nothing to do with her."

"How the fuck would she know?"

I huffed out a breath. "Astoria, just Floo call me when he gets home, please. We can discuss this at a time when there is no danger of being overheard."

With that, I pulled out of the fireplace and rose to my feet.

"He's not there, right?"

I nodded. "I've no clue where he's gone. You're sure he didn't say anything?"

Scoffing, she replied, "I'm fucking positive. Do you think I'd be here, of all places, if I had any idea what he'd remembered or where to find him?" It seemed her tears had morphed into rage, her words coming out unfiltered now. "For the love of Morgana, I never wanted to step foot in this… I can't even call it a house… again."

"It's technically a manor," I said casually. "But of course I understand that your memories of this place leave much to be desired."

"Lucius?" Narcissa's voice rang out and I could hear her approaching. "What's going on? Is there someone here?"

When she entered the room, her eyes automatically fell on Hermione.

"Ms. Granger, what are you doing here?"

The girl — woman — looked to me. "You can explain it. I'm going home."

"You need to help—"

"I do not need to help! In fact, that's the last fucking thing I need to do," she said, cutting me off. "This was your plan — your whole scheme. Sort it out on your own."

And then she was gone, stepping into the Floo and being whisked away.

Narcissa looked at me questioningly. "Explain, Lucius."

I walked her through everything Hermione had said, and she looked horrified.

With narrowed eyes, Narcissa stated, "So no one knows where my son is, and he's potentially having some kind of memory problem."

"That's about accurate," I replied, resigned since I knew there was nothing I could do. "We've no idea what he's remembering. I already Floo called Astoria. She's going to let me know when he's home."

Narcissa took Hermione's place, pacing along my office floor. Her shoes weren't nearly as loud, but the perpetual motion was the same.

"I need him to be okay," she murmured. "He needs to be okay."

Standing, I stepped into her path, wrapping my arms around her. "He's going to be fine. I'm sure he was just shaken and needed a few moments to himself. Draco's never been the type to share when something's bothering him."

She didn't reciprocate my embrace, and I felt my heart splinter. The last time she'd refused me affection was during the war, and I hadn't blamed her then; I'd been a pathetic excuse for a man.

"Lucius, I'm furious with you right now," she said, pulling away from me. "I thought this whole mess was behind us, and now he's been back at work for a month and it's already coming back to haunt us."

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it all back. There was nothing I could say or do. Waiting and watching, hoping and praying that Draco would go home… it bore a strange resemblance to the war.

Moving to the small wet bar I kept in my study, I looked to Narcissa. "Can I pour you a drink, darling?"

"You'd better," she replied, none of her usual warmth or playfulness in her tone.

Opening a rather expensive bottle of firewhisky, I poured us each a double. When I handed the glass to Narcissa, she took a much larger gulp than she normally would and then resumed her pacing. I settled into a wingback chair in front of the fireplace, waiting for Astoria to call back.

She didn't speak the entire time we waited, just paced and drank from her glass every so often, refilling it twice. I didn't dare try to stop her — I knew she would've hexed me into the following century.

Finally, after nearly an hour, Astoria's face appeared in the grate.

"He's here. He's fine," she said, putting Narcissa at ease. "He's going on about perfume, a red dress, and a Muggle shop. And something about a diamond necklace."

"That doesn't sound fine. Has he ever given you a diamond necklace?" Narcissa asked.

Astoria's eyes narrowed. Quietly, she demanded, "Figure it out, Lucius. We need that necklace."

I wasn't looking forward to contacting Hermione to find out if she knew what he was talking about.

When I nodded, Astoria popped out, leaving Narcissa and I on our own. She had her fingertips pressing into her eyes.

"Don't," she said when I moved to come to her side. "Really, Lucius. Just… don't."

I felt my insides twist, completely astounded that Narcissa would continue to push me away even after Draco was safe. Staring into the fire, I tried to find the right words to say.

I'm sorry?

I didn't know he loved her when I did this?

I didn't think he'd ever go back to work?

I didn't think he'd try to get close to her again?

I don't want to try to hide this anymore?

Nothing felt right, and I knew I was in the wrong. Just like with the war, Narcissa was entirely justified in her feelings — my actions had the potential to destroy our family.

If Draco found out — and it was honestly beginning to look more like a when than an if — I knew he would never forgive me. That would, in turn, put Narcissa in an impossible position. She loved me, but she loved our son more.

If there was a choice to be made, I would end up alone.

As uncomfortable silence filled the room around us, I got lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out the best course of action.

Would it be better to come clean to Draco now? Or try to cover it up?

After nearly an hour, Narcissa finally spoke.

"I'm very angry with you right now," she began. "I love you, and I know that you were trying to keep the family together, but I wish you'd have come to me instead of hatching this scheme with Astoria."

When I looked at her, I felt so ashamed of what I'd done. There were silent tears on her face, and she wasn't even attempting to hide them. My tongue was tied — I couldn't answer her. Honestly, there was nothing I could say or do to fix this, and I didn't think she wanted me to try to comfort her with silly platitudes.

Reading my expression, she continued her gentle scolding. "Lucius, every time I think that the past — whether it be the wars, the forced marriage, the Obliviation — is in the past, it just keeps coming back to haunt us, and I don't know how to handle it anymore. I'm at my wits end. I've never felt so miserable."

"What are you saying?" I asked, my pulse speeding up.

Wiping at her eyes, she replied, "I'm not really saying anything. I'm not a woman who speaks in riddles. You know that. I'm telling you how I feel."

"And I understand—"

She shook her head. "That's the thing, Lucius. You don't. You don't understand. You have never understood how your actions affect everyone around you. Or, if you do, you just don't care, and that's even worse."

My throat felt like it was swelling, and the edges of my vision blurred. Seeing Narcissa this upset and hearing her say I didn't care… it was something I'd never experienced before.

"And I could forgive you for getting mixed up with the Death Eaters. Hell, most of my cousins and my sister did. It was part of being a pureblood in that generation. Since I understood that, I even found it easy to forgive you for the second war." She paused and I looked up at her again. "What I'm struggling with are the choices you've made in regards to Draco. I'm sick to my stomach that I didn't make Hermione stop the process when I found out."

Interrupting, I said, "I told you it wasn't possible—"

"I know what you said. I'm not an idiot. Of course she could've stopped! She was at it for three days, and I found out on the first day!" she cried. "And now he's unhappy and confused and there's nothing I can do to help him without making him hate all of us."

"Narcissa—"

"And he's going to figure it out eventually, and we're going to lose him."

She was sobbing now, completely losing control of herself. Rather than continuing to sit and stare at her, I made my way across the room, pulling her into my arms. She tried to push me away, slapping at my chest, but I held onto her tight. When she finally dropped her face to my shoulder, I brought my hand to the back of her head, stroking her hair and trying to calm her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered against the top of her head. "I don't know how to fix this. I didn't realise — if I had known how much he loved her, I would've chosen differently. I'm so sorry."

As she cried against my shoulder, I held her, not knowing if I'd really be able to keep her by my side forever.

Hermione — 7th June 2007

After I'd left the Manor, I went straight home and immediately got into the shower, trying to wash away the feelings that were flooding through me.

Draco was remembering something.

There was no other explanation for what had happened in the lift. Something had triggered him, and he was remembering. The fear I felt was devouring me whole; the very thought of him realising what I'd done to him was making me physically ill and poking holes in the life I'd managed to create for myself since the beginning of the year.

As I stood under the hot water, I thought about the way he'd looked at me in the lift, the way he'd run from me. I imagined how he'd react if he really knew the truth. Knowing Draco — and I did understand him better than most — I was certain that he wouldn't run if he'd remembered or found out somehow. He'd confront me head on, not leaving me be until he got to the bottom of things. He wouldn't be able to let it go.

There was no way he remembered our relationship. I hadn't left anything there for him to find. I'd double and triple checked, making sure that I could only find younger versions of myself or appropriate workplace interactions.

There was nothing there. Nothing. He could barely remember that we'd even spoken at work.

A choking sob escaped my lips, even though I felt anything but sad. I was stressed. I was worried. I was second-guessing myself and my decisions more than I ever had before, but I was not sad.

I shouldn't have been crying.

But all of my traitorous emotions were rushing to the surface — everything I'd been feeling since the very first time I saw him in Diagon Alley resurfaced and spilled out. Jealousy. Grief. Relief. Anger. Anxiety. Depression. An overwhelming need to make myself feel better. No, not just feel better, but be better.

I had to be better. I had to move on. I had to show Astoria that she hadn't really won, hadn't broken me by taking Draco away.

More than anything, I found myself wishing I wasn't alone tonight. As mad as I'd been at Blaise today, I wished he was here to hold me, to take care of me. I knew it was selfish, but at that moment, I just couldn't be bothered to care. Blaise wouldn't have cared, either. He would've held me, let me cry, and been happy I wasn't hiding this from him.

Of course, I felt like the worst human being on the planet for wanting to take comfort from Blaise. He'd given me enough since this whole mess started. I didn't need to cry over Draco while Blaise held me. I'd been doing that for years. I was supposed to be happy now.

I was supposed to be happier because Blaise was mine, and mine alone.

He was mine to lose.

And, if I carried on working with Draco, letting him get close to me, I likely would lose Blaise.

For a few minutes, I leaned my forehead against the tiled wall, trying to sort through everything that was going on in my head. I was overthinking everything. Whatever Draco had remembered… it couldn't have been me. It couldn't have been anything to do with me. Even if he concentrated and looked his hardest, he would never find our relationship in his mind.

Knowing I needed to keep moving, I stood up straight and let the water splash over my face again, washing away the remnants of the tears I'd spilled. Robotically, I washed my hair and my body, finishing up my shower. I inhaled deep breaths of the steamy water, trying hard to steady myself. When I turned off the tap and reached for my towel, I was assaulted by a memory.

There was a knock on my ajar office door, and without looking, I said, "Come in."

"Granger?"

That voice. His quiet tone. It was at odds, like he was scared to approach me. I looked up, not sure of why he was there at all.

"Malfoy, how can I help you?"

Walking into my office, he closed the door quietly behind him. "We need to talk."

"We absolutely do not need to talk," I responded. "There is nothing for us to talk about."

He winced at my words, but he didn't leave my office. "Please. I really need—"

"You really need to get out," I told him.

"Granger—"

"No!" I said, waving my hand and Silencing both the room and him. "Listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. What happened between us at the Leaky — it was a mistake. It won't happen again. You are married, we are co-workers. There is nothing else that needs to be said about it."

Gesturing to his lips, he nonverbally asked me to lift my charm. I debated refusing him, but I'd had my say. I couldn't very well let him go out into the department unable to speak. Against my better judgment, I lifted the spell.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have—"

"Don't," I interrupted. "Don't say it. Don't tell me any of this."

I turned away, not able to look him in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I just — I need you to know that it meant a lot to me. More than you know."

When I heard the door handle rattle, I wanted to stop him, to tell him that I'd been thinking about him too, that no one had ever touched me the way he had. I wanted to say that I hated him and myself for giving into whatever urges we'd both kept buried the night before his wedding. We'd both known what he was doing the next day, and we'd just completely disregarded it.

Instead, I let him walk out and then pointed my wand at the door, swinging it closed and making it latch.

Closing the door on him.

I didn't know why I'd thought of that particular memory, but it felt like it had just happened yesterday.

Maybe my brain was trying to remind me that he'd done the same thing once before, cornering me in my office when no one was around. It was likely begging me not to make the same mistake over again.

When I wrapped myself in a towel and started drying my hair, I tried to put up walls, to practise Occlumency, but I finally understood what Harry had tried to explain to me so many times before. It wasn't simple. When you really, really needed it, it didn't always work the way you wanted it to.

I knew I should call Blaise; I needed to tell him what had happened. I should've wanted to tell him how I was feeling so he could help me sort it all out, but I just didn't. I didn't want him distracted from the mission, and I didn't want to explain that I had been working with Draco all day.

And even though I didn't want to tell him about any of this, I still knew I needed to, and I missed him, and that led to even more confusion.

As I got dressed, my eyes kept wandering to the trunk in the corner of the room. The one I'd considered opening in April. The one that was still taunting me now.

It would be so easy to fall back into things with Draco. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he still felt something, even though he didn't know about our past. Somehow, he still cared for me and wanted to make sure I was looked after.

I thought about what he'd said — his advice in regards to Blaise — don't get angry with him. He doesn't mean to hover or smother you. He just loves you and wants to make sure you're okay.

Was he happy that I was with Blaise? That someone he had previously trusted was essentially caring for me when he couldn't?

How had he retained any feelings of protectiveness?

I grabbed my journal and started making a list of questions.

Why does he care about me? He hasn't seen me in nearly two years, and he can't remember our relationship. At most, there should be a lingering crush or fascination. Nothing more.

Why isn't he more concerned about Astoria? I did as much as I could to give them a strong relationship and it seems like he still doesn't care for her at all.

Why did he decide he needed to come back to work in the first place? It would've been easier for him to stay at home.

Why didn't Astoria and Lucius put up more of a fight? They're the ones who were concerned about what would happen if Draco and I were forced into close proximity again.

What could he possibly be remembering? What had triggered him?

Deep down, I knew it had to be something I'd said or done that day. Why else would it have taken this long to happen? It didn't seem like a coincidence that his first memory burst would occur when I was standing that close to him in the lift. It couldn't have been.

And then I started wondering… Was it truly the first time he'd remembered something that he'd thought he lost? Or was I just assuming that?

Maybe there had been other things that no one knew about…

For the first time, I wished I had kept in contact with Astoria. I needed to know if Draco had ever had another episode like this, and she likely wouldn't have mentioned it to Lucius if he had.

I wanted to know where I had potentially gone wrong.

Rather than sitting at home alone, I packed an overnight bag and went over to Grimmauld Place. Harry's shocked expression when I stepped through his Floo was nearly comical.

"Hermione? Is everything okay?" he asked, wary.

I shook my head. "Blaise is away, and you're not there, and Draco—"

"He's been in your office, hasn't he?"

I nodded. "That isn't the problem, though," I began. "He's remembered something. I don't know what, but—"

"Let me get Pansy," he interrupted. "Let's go through it once rather than over and over again."

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I buried my face in my hands. I wasn't sure if I was ready to deal with Pansy at the moment, but Harry was right — it would likely be easier to go through everything with both of them.

When they came back into the kitchen, Pansy handed the baby to me and said, "Snuggle her. It will help."

Lily was still just a tiny little thing — only four days old — and I obeyed, holding her close and rocking her.

"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked.

I just started talking, relaying the information about the potioneer case, the runes, the afternoon spent in my office, his comments about Blaise, and finally the incident in the lift.

"You were close together in the lift?" Pansy asked thoughtfully.

Feeling my cheeks heat, I replied, "It was full. We were nearly pressed together."

"Have you touched since…" she trailed off.

Thinking back, I said, "No. I can't remember a single time when we've been close enough."

"Did he touch your skin?" Harry asked.

I tried to think back to earlier in the evening. "I don't remember, but—"

"Then he likely didn't," Pansy interjected. "I was wondering if his magic reacted to yours in some way."

"What do you mean?"

Exchanging a look, Harry and Pansy seemed to silently communicate. After a moment, he spoke. "If it's been awhile since we've had any prolonged skin-to-skin contact, there's a feeling… I'm not sure if it's stronger because of our marriage bond, but—"

"It's not," Pansy said. "Don't you remember when I tried to break up with you? We were apart for over a month and then you saw me in Diagon and grabbed my arm."

"Of course I do," he said. "I just didn't remember if it was as strong as it is now."

"What happened?" I asked.

"It felt so warm at first, and I thought it was just his body heat." With a smile, she continued the recollection. "But then it was like I'd been struck by lightning or something. There was this weird static and almost a shock."

Harry picked up where she left off. "And I couldn't let go of her. We both had goosebumps even though my hand on her arm felt like it was heating. I just pulled her into my arms and the relief was instant. I felt a rush of happiness."

"And he seemed to sort of glow. I don't know if other people could see it or not. They were staring, but we always got confused stares before we were married."

I thought back to texts I'd read throughout the years. This didn't sound like anything I'd ever come across.

Shrugging, I said, "I don't think we had contact like that. I grabbed his arm, but he was wearing long sleeves, and my hand was near his elbow."

"Strange," Pansy commented. "So what happened after the Ministry?"

Taking a deep breath, I replied, "I went to the Manor to let Lucius know. This shouldn't be possible."

Looking down at Lily's face, I continued to talk, telling them about my conversation with Lucius, how he'd called Astoria, and how Narcissa had come in at the end of it.

"Narcissa is going to murder him," Pansy stated. "Merlin, I don't know how she's managed to hold back thus far."

"It seemed like her goodwill towards him is really running out." I shifted the baby into the crook of my other arm. "I just don't even know how… And now I'm wondering if it's the first time or if it's just the first time any of us have witnessed it. What if he remembers other things?"

Harry finally jumped in. "Hermione, if he remembered anything about your relationship, he wouldn't be calmly sitting in your office looking at runes. You know it and I know it. He's still Malfoy. He'd be demanding answers and trying to get back into your knickers."

With a sad laugh, I said, "I really don't think that's going to be his reaction if he finds out. He's going to hate me, Harry. He's going to hate me, and I don't know how to handle that."

"We'll figure it out if it happens," he responded, and I let him think that I agreed.

Pansy, though she looked exhausted, was clearly pondering something. Her eyes wandered around the kitchen, jumped to Harry, moved to me, went back to the stairs.

"This might be crazy," she began, "but maybe it's not. You keep saying it shouldn't be possible and that's because you erased your whole relationship, right?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Why else would I say that?"

"Don't be a bitch," she snapped. "Just listen. What if he's not remembering you, but things that surrounded you, or had to do with you?"

Not understanding, I asked her for examples.

"Okay, so say you Obliviated Harry from my life, pre-babies, all that. What if I'd gone to, let's say, Monaco with him previously? But I hadn't arrived in Monaco with him. We'd just met up there days later. You wouldn't have erased the memories leading up to his arrival in Monaco because he wasn't in them, right?"

Thinking back, I knew I'd erased all of our trips. Draco likely didn't remember he'd gone to any of the places we'd been together. "I think I made sure I took those days away too," I told her.

"Maybe a trip was a bad example. What if Harry and I had a favourite coffee shop? What if I went without him sometimes, but there was still something nagging at me whenever I walked through the door? I didn't know why, but it felt all wrong. And then one day, I hear something or smell something and it prompts a vague thought about buying a coffee for someone else, but I don't necessarily know who I want to buy it for. I just know that I want to buy it and I remember that I've bought it before."

My jaw dropped. It made a strange kind of sense.

Pansy had just given me something entirely new to consider and worry about.

Those little connections could unravel everything.

"That's not crazy at all," I admitted. "It's definitely plausible, and it's something that I never thought about."

Looking me square in the eyes, Harry said, "If you don't stay away from him, he's going to figure it out, Hermione. I think Pansy's right. The little things will start to add up and, while he might not understand it, he'll eventually realise that everything he can't remember is connected to you in some way."

"I know. I'll figure it out," I replied, determined. "He wasn't ever supposed to come back to work. I didn't even…"

Lily started fussing in my arms, prompting Pansy to stand and reach for her. "I'm going to feed her and then put her down. You two keep talking. I'll be back."

After Pansy left the room, Harry started to speak again, but I shook my head, cutting him off. "No. I don't want to talk about it any more tonight. I just didn't want to be alone."

"Have you spoken to Blaise?" he asked.

"No. We had a bit of an argument earlier, and I've not called him. I'm not going to call him tonight," I stated, even though I knew I was being a selfish bitch.

When the silence stretched between us, Harry rose, coming around to my side of the table. He sat beside me and grabbed both of my hands. "Look at me, Hermione." I raised my head. "I know things with Malfoy are going downhill, but you can't push Blaise away like he doesn't matter to you. You'll regret it if you do."

"That's not what I'm doing," I began. "He called me seven times after he left for Italy today. Seven. He wanted to make sure I was okay, that I'd eaten lunch, that I was still okay, that no one was bothering me. Every single call was essentially code for 'Is Draco sniffing around?' If he was so worried about Draco being around me, he shouldn't have excluded him from the Italy trip solely because he's a jealous prat!"

Harry shrugged. "You have a point, but I also understand why he's jealous of Draco. You really loved him, and Blaise stood by and watched—"

"He knew all those things going into this relationship. If he keeps taking things out on Draco, isn't that suspicious as well?"

Releasing one of my hands, Harry pushed his hair back off his forehead. "Of course it is, but he's not thinking about it that way. He's thinking the woman that he loves is now in close quarters with the man that she was in love with previously. And it's pretty obvious that Draco still wants to be around you whenever he can."

"That's not my fault!" I exclaimed. "I couldn't go all the way back and take everything!"

Again, Harry rose, but this time, he pulled me to my feet and hugged me close. "I know, Hermione. None of this is your fault. Not really. I'll speak to Blaise and let him know that he needs to let it go. Malfoy's back, and I'm not going to tell him he can't work with us. But you need to talk to Blaise, too."

"I will. I just can't tonight. It's all been a lot," I replied, my voice cracking.

I'd gone from angry to nearly weeping incredibly fast; my mood was still all over the place.

"Have you spoken to Penelope yet?" he asked.

I shook my head against his shoulder. "No. I had to reschedule and she was on an extended holiday."

"Stay with us? Just while Blaise is away?"

Sighing, I said, "You don't have to worry, Harry. I'm not at that point. I was going to ask to stay tonight—"

"You should. And you're not leaving until Blaise comes home," he ordered. "I'm not letting you sit alone in that house and stew over this."

"Fine," I conceded. "But if James sneaks into my bed, I'm not kicking him out."

Harry laughed. "That's fine. He's already told us about how he stayed with you and Uncle Blaise."

"Traitor," I muttered.