Hermione — 20th June 2007

As soon as Draco was gone, I tipped his memory of the morning before the wedding back into the vial and set it in the trunk. I braced my palms on the table and leant forward, trying to think about what I'd just witnessed.

Sara had been at the stag party with Blaise. From his words the following morning, I could infer that they'd slept together after leaving the Leaky. I highly doubted he would've had time to pick anyone else up. However, I'd noticed him watching memory Hermione — me — like a hawk, like I was his prey. It made me uneasy, though I didn't really know why. It was perfectly possible that he'd noticed I was getting pissed and was simply being a good guy, making sure that no one tried to take me home.

But it didn't feel that way, especially after the way he'd been behaving since Draco's return to work. He'd grown more and more possessive, so that's what I saw in the memory, even if that wasn't what it was. My head started to fill with doubt and I wondered exactly how long Blaise had harboured feelings for me.

Had he gotten Draco to leave me that morning because he wanted me for himself?

Surely if Blaise had been interested in me at that point, it would've been easy for him to approach me. He and I didn't have the history that Draco and I did. We were always friendly towards each other in the office, even if we weren't yet friends. I would've happily gone on a date with him if he'd shown even the slightest interest in me before I got entangled with Draco.

Thinking back, I tried to remember what Blaise was like years ago. But there wasn't much in my memory — we'd barely spoken outside of work, and I couldn't remember a single time where I'd felt like he was flirting with me.

I pressed my fingers into my temples and massaged.

Blaise and I had gotten close at the beginning of 2005, about halfway through the affair. He'd always insisted that I deserved better, that what Draco and I were doing was wrong. I listened dutifully and then promptly ignored him until Astoria got pregnant.

And then I leaned on him more and more. I worked cases with him to avoid seeing Draco and let him deeper and deeper into my life. Hell, after Draco and Astoria's first anniversary, I ran to him. Immediately after talking to Lucius, I'd gone to his flat unannounced, a sobbing mess.

And he'd encouraged me to go along with Lucius' idea to Obliviate Draco.

Had he wanted me even then?

When Draco made the same accusation, it seemed so out there, so wrong. But now… I felt like there was a good possibility it was true. Blaise made sure he was there for me every step of the way after. He'd helped me find my footing, dig myself out of the hole I'd fallen into. He'd saved me from events I didn't want to attend, like the Weasley Christmas the first year and the Ministry ball the following May. Whenever I was upset, he'd drop everything and come running to my side.

Had he done it all for selfish reasons? Or because he genuinely wanted to help me?

I didn't feel like I could go to his flat right now. I knew he would get upset, but I needed time to get my thoughts together. I couldn't confront him until I did.

Without a second thought, I made my way to the Floo and threw a handful of powder down. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

Unsurprisingly, Harry was sitting on the couch waiting for me, Ron beside him. They both stood and I threw my arms around Harry's neck, burying my face in his chest. I felt a hand — likely Ron's — start stroking up and down my back as I cried.

"Okay, Hermione, we've got you," Harry murmured into my hair. "We're not going anywhere."

"Do I need to kill him?" Ron asked, and I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. I suspected he was being serious, though.

Through my sobs and sniffles, I managed to say, "It's not D-Draco."

I could imagine them looking at each other, perplexed, over my shoulder.

Harry settled a hand on my arm and started to gently push me backwards. When I looked up at him, I could see his concern.

"It's B-Blaise," I choked out. "He… Oh, gods…"

"Did he break up with you over this?" Ron asked sharply. "Over Malfoy and the memories?"

Shaking my head, I took a deep breath. "It's s-so much worse."

Once I'd managed to calm myself, I told them about what I'd seen in the Pensieve — how Blaise had watched me at the stag party, how he'd been with Sara, the things he'd said the next morning. Ron's face had grown progressively darker, the red that had flooded it turning to purple. Harry looked like he was carefully considering everything I'd said.

When I got to the end of the story, he asked, "Do you think that's really what he was doing? Trying to get you for himself?"

"That's the thing," I began, wiping my eyes with the hem of my t-shirt. "I don't know. I don't know what he was doing. Harry, that wasn't him. The way he spoke to Draco… He didn't seem like the Blaise Zabini that I know."

Ron settled a hand on my forearm. "But your intuition isn't usually wrong, Hermione. What is it telling you right now?"

The swirling emotions in my brain and in my gut were obscuring the instincts I'd normally feel.

"I don't know," I answered. "Honestly, Ron, I've no idea and I don't want to confront Blaise about it if I'm wrong. He's been there for me for so long and he loves me. I don't want to hurt him."

"You said that he loves you…" Harry said, trailing off. "But you've never been sure if you're in love with him or not."

Of all things for Harry to remember about my feelings, it had to be this. Why did it have to be this? I knew he was going to ask me if I'd figured it out, but I was more confused than I'd ever been now.

"Yes," I stated, keeping it as simple as possible. "And Draco… I knew. I knew within a few months that I was in love with him."

"Are you still in love with him now?" Ron asked, though the look on his face didn't encourage me to answer him truthfully.

Swallowing hard, I said, "I don't know. I think a part of me always will be, and it's hard to watch the good things between us and not feel something ."

"What did you show him?" Harry questioned.

I felt my cheeks heating. "He… uhhh… wanted to see the beginning of everything. So the night in the Leaky. His stag party."

After taking his glasses off, Harry pressed his fingers into his eyes. "You watched yourselves shagging?"

"Well, yes. That's how it started. And started again." Like a freight train, the realisation that I'd be watching yet another round of Pensieve porn with Draco on Friday night hit me.

Ron huffed out a breath. "For fuck's sake, why would you put yourself through that?"

"Someone has to watch the memories with him," I replied. "I'd rather not have someone else watching me fuck him."

Harry laughed. "Can you imagine? What if it was Lucius?"

"No!" I shrieked. "I would die. I would actually drop dead if Lucius Malfoy saw me naked."

Shaking his head, Ron said, "Well, Hermione, if you want, I could… It's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Thank you, Ron, but no," I answered, absolutely mortified that he would even offer half-heartedly. "But, Harry, do you think you could Floo call Blaise? Tell him I'm here?"

"I think you should handle this on your own," Harry suggested gently. "You need to be honest with him or he's going to think you're avoiding him."

"I am literally avoiding him tonight. That's why I'm here."

They each draped an arm around me. "We know that. Just tell him you're spending the night talking to Pansy and will see him in the morning. Did he know what you were showing Draco?"

As they guided me to the Floo, I said, "I'm sure he can guess. I could go that route, tell him that I need to clear my head."

"When do you see Penelope again?" Ron asked.

"Not until Monday, and I need to figure out what I'm going to say to her about this mess."

He nodded. "Okay. Tell Blaise you need a day or two to think."

When I knelt on the hearth, I started to panic. I knew how he was going to react, but I also knew I couldn't go there tonight. I couldn't pretend that everything was okay, and I didn't have the energy for Occlumency.

I stuck my head into the flames and called out his address. When I appeared in the hearth, I saw him pacing, waiting for me. He whipped around and his face fell when he realised I was only calling.

"Hermione, it's been hours—"

"Stop," I said, interrupting. "I'm staying at Grimmauld Place tonight. I need to talk to Pansy and Harry."

"What? Why?"

He knelt in front of me, getting closer, and the guilt started, crashing over me at his sad expression. And then I remembered Sara and the things he'd said.

"Because I can't be around you tonight after what I saw. I need to think."

Sighing, he asked, "What did you show him?"

"His stag party." I paused for a few seconds. "And the morning after."

"Hermione—"

I shook my head. "No. I need time to talk this through and think."

"I was a different person back then! You know that, Tesoro." His words came in a rush. "That's not who I am anymore."

"I do know that. Something just feels off—"

"This is why I didn't want you doing this!" he growled, losing his cool. "The more time you spend around him, the more you're going to pull away from me. You can't fucking help yourself when it comes to him!"

"It has nothing to do with him! I kicked him out of my house afterwards and told him that I can't do this every day!" I spat back. "This has to do with you and how you acted and the things you said to Draco the morning of his wedding."

"That was so long ago! I don't even remember—"

"Well, let me remind you. Does the phrase ' Her cunt is no different than the one I was buried in last night' ring a bell for you? Do you feel that way now? I'm just an interchangeable—"

"I had to get him away from you!" he replied. "I had to get him to his wedding, Hermione. Of course you're not interchangeable. I love you."

Even though he'd said more, the first sentence echoed in my head.

I had to get him away from you.

I glanced up at him. "Well, he loved me, too. But you already knew that."

Silence fell between us, and I felt tears welling in my eyes again. Blaise looked like he felt guilty about the things he'd said, but he didn't apologise.

"I'll be at Grimmauld. You can verify with Harry if you think I'm lying to you."

When I pulled my head out of the fireplace, Harry and Ron hoisted me to my feet.

"Come on," Harry said. "Let's get you a drink. Pansy's already asleep. I just figured he'd be more understanding if you said you needed girl time."

"Thanks for coming, Ron. I know Luna is probably tired."

"She's fine. I got Stella to bed and then came here not five minutes before you came through the Floo. I'm here for you through this whole mess."

As my boys led me down to the kitchen, I let myself fall apart again.

It seemed that Harry and Ron would be there to help me pick up the pieces this time around.

Draco — 20th & 21st June 2007

After Granger and I decided on Friday night for the next memory, I left as quickly as possible, Flooing back to the Leaky. When I stepped out of the grate, Hannah called my name, but I just continued up the stairs. As my eyes scanned the hallway, I thought about the memory I'd just watched with Granger, the way she'd stumbled towards the doors.

And then I stopped in front of mine. Room ten. The same room.

I'd been staying in the same room we'd shared the night before my wedding and, of course, I hadn't remembered it. I just stared at the little number for a moment, my heart and thoughts racing.

Since I had just seen the memory, I could clearly picture Granger standing in this exact spot in tall heels and a little black dress, completely drunk and rambling about how she'd kissed Ginny Weasley. From there, my imagination jumped to what had happened just inside the door — the way I'd kissed her, touched her, fucked her against the wall.

Letting out a groan of frustration, I jammed my key in the lock, much like she had in the memory. Of course, my key actually belonged to this lock, so the door swung open when I turned it. I saw my temporary accommodations in a whole new light now, and I almost thought about insisting Granger bring the Pensieve here so she could feel the same way I did.

As I slammed the door behind me, I threw the key at the opposite wall, not caring where it landed. My eyes caught on the bed. The quilt was different, but I could still picture her there. I sat on the edge in the same place I had when I moved from the wall, walking while she was still wrapped around me. Closing my eyes, I leant forward, my elbows braced on my knees, my hands covering my face.

She'd ridden me in this exact spot.

I'd come inside her for the first time right here.

We'd had sex all night, and then I'd held her as she slept. I'd woken up with her, listened to Blaise's nonsense, and then left her alone in this very bed.

"Fuck," I growled in frustration. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Flopping back, I stared up at the ceiling, wondering if this is what I'd looked at while she slept in my arms.

Had that small nick in the paint been there three years ago?

I tried to get my brain to remember something, but it was truly fucking gone. Even so, I probably wouldn't have noticed; all my attention would've been focused on her.

Granger had said the memories weren't easy to live with, and I was already starting to agree with her after seeing the first one. I was so frustrated that I could see it and hear it, but I didn't have the other sensory memories. The taste of her, the smell of her skin — minus the scent of her perfume — the feel of her wrapped around me.

Honestly, missing those parts made me even more angry. It was like I had half of the experience. And, since it was an experience I'd longed for, I hated her for taking it away from me.

I think you need to see things from my perspective to understand why I did it.

How could I ever understand why she'd taken these things away from me? If this one memory had me wanting to tug my hair out, to find a fucking Time-Turner so I could go back and experience it again, what would the rest do to me?

And, if things were always that intense between us, why would she want to give it up?

Scorpius. I didn't want you splitting your time between home and me. I didn't want to take time from him.

The thought of her caring about Scorpius, about the baby I'd fathered with Astoria, quelled the anger a small amount. She'd put my son before herself, though that didn't really change what she'd done, what she'd taken from me.

I saw the near-empty bottle of firewhisky on the desk where Blaise had sat, hissing words at me to convince me to leave her. So he could have her for himself. I stood and stalked over, pulling the stopper from the bottle and bringing it to my lips.

The pillows and sheets on the bed were white, just like every other inn or hotel in the world, but now I could see her hair on them, dark curls splayed against the white, my fingers running through them as she slept. I wanted to leave — pack up and go somewhere else — but I couldn't stop myself from looking around.

Now that I knew we had been together in this very room, I could see her everywhere. It was torture and fantasy rolled into one.

Gulping from the bottle once more, I moved to the window, wanting to look out and find something else to concentrate on, someone or something to watch. There was nothing that held my interest, though.

The alcohol would slow my thoughts eventually.

Turning, I looked at the section of wall again. The one where I'd fulfilled my teenage fantasies of getting into Granger's knickers, of kissing her so hard she forgot how to breathe, and the only words that left her know-it-all lips were pleas for me, for more.

I finished the bottle and slammed it down on the desk. My hands free, I ran them both through my hair as I paced. I hated her for taking that memory — all of the memories — away from me. And yet, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted her to kick my door again so I could repeat the whole thing, fill in the gaps of smell and taste and the feel of her skin against mine.

But she wouldn't show up here because she'd moved on with Blaise.

Blaise — she'd been watching him in the memory of the stag party. She'd seen something she didn't like, and then when we'd watched the memory of the next morning, she'd gotten upset.

Something hadn't been right with the whole situation, and she could feel it. It was like she had seen a whole new side of him. Honestly, I felt that way, too.

And I'd left her on her own, likely unsure if she should go to him or not.

You listened to Blaise and walked out that day. Just like you walked out hundreds of times after that…

Those words rang in my head. Just like you walked out hundreds of times after that.

How many times had I left her before she decided she had to find a way to get rid of me permanently? To break the cycle?

My head was finally starting to get fuzzy, and I welcomed the muffling of my thoughts. I stripped down to nothing and looked at the bed, remembering her in it again. With a sigh, I pulled the white sheets back and laid my head on the pillow, even though it was barely nine o'clock. I rolled onto my side, laying on the bed in the same position I had with her, and stared at the empty space in front of me.

As I drifted off to sleep, one other thing she'd said flashed in my mind.

All we've ever done is hurt each other.

That, I believed.

When I woke, I knew I had to go home. It had been over twenty-four hours since I'd seen Scorpius, and I felt guilty that I hadn't been back to see him.

None of this was his fault.

In addition, I knew I had to discuss things with Astoria eventually. I had to find out what part she played and what our marriage had been like before the Obliviation. It was clear that it hadn't been great, and she'd admitted to sharing memories with Granger.

The disconnects in my feelings when it came to Astoria started to make sense. Certain memories had been altered and replaced, trying to convince me that everything between us had been happy and perfect before the accident.

The anger I felt couldn't be put into words. I was pissed at my mother. I hated my father. I hated Astoria. I hated Blaise. I fucking hated Granger.

How could all the important people in my life do this to me?

How could they lie to me every single day for nearly two years?

Honestly, I wanted to just pack up and leave everyone behind. And, if I didn't have Scorpius, I would've seriously considered it.

But, in the back of my mind, I knew I would always wonder what had happened between me and Granger. How had I let something I'd always wanted slip through my fingertips?

With a sigh, I headed for the shower, vowing to set things aside long enough to have a happy visit with my son before speaking to Astoria.

"Draco?" Astoria said, her voice weak. "I've been worried—"

"I'm fine. I'm staying at the Leaky. Where's Scorpius?"

She looked down at the floor. "Your mother has him. I was going to try to find you."

"Okay," I replied, unsure of what else to say. I had been hoping to have some time with Scorpius before I had to discuss anything with her. "What did you need me for?"

"We need to talk, Draco," she said, and I knew she was right. "You're angry, and I understand that, but that doesn't mean you can just disappear on your son and ignore me."

I pulled out a chair and sat at the table, gesturing for her to sit across from me. I didn't know how to start this conversation, so I hoped she would say something that would lead into what I wanted to talk about.

"Don't you want to know my side of things?" Astoria asked, meeting my eyes. "I know what we did was wrong, but it's not what I intended when I went to your father for help."

"So what did you intend?"

Tucking her hair behind her ears nervously, she looked frail, even a bit ill. I could see how tired she was. She likely hadn't been sleeping well and had the additional strain of caring for a toddler.

"I thought your father would speak to you about the affair and tell you to end it," she began. "I thought that he'd say something and you and I would sit down and talk things through once you knew that I'd found out."

"Why didn't you ever confront me?" I asked her.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I didn't know how. Honestly, I thought that it would stop once you knew I was pregnant. I swear, I didn't know about the Obliviation until right before it happened. Your father came to me with a plan and Hermione had agreed to do it, so I went along with it. I thought it would be the best thing for us."

"But why? If we weren't happy—"

"We weren't happy because of her, Draco! You heard what she said. She'd been there since the beginning of our marriage. You never really gave us a chance!"

While she was right on that count — at least from what I could tell — I still didn't understand why she wouldn't have tried to talk to me before leaping into my father's scheme.

"Astoria, from what I know, you and I never even had a single conversation about Granger," I began, watching her face closely. "Why wouldn't you ask me about it? Tell me off? Give me an ultimatum?"

"That's not how things are done," she replied, her voice breaking. "You don't just quit on a marriage because things get a little hard."

Honestly, I couldn't believe that she thought a marriage like ours had been worth saving. It was clear I hadn't treated her well at all and that she'd never really made a go at fixing things between us in the early days when it would've been easier.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Things were clearly more than just a little hard for most of our marriage."

She began wringing her hands, twisting and fidgeting, looking down at them. Quietly, she said, "I thought a baby — an heir — would fix things. If we had a family—"

"Did you get pregnant on purpose?" I interrupted, narrowing my eyes at her. She didn't answer, so I repeated myself. "Astoria, did you get pregnant on purpose?"

Her tears spilled, running down her cheeks. "Draco, I love you—"

"You love me ? The man who cheated on you for over a year? The man who was in love with another woman the whole time we were married?" I asked, standing from the table. "The man who needed to be spelled into being faithful to you?"

"Yes!" she spat. "Despite the horrible fucking prick you've been for our whole marriage, I love you. Since I learned I was betrothed to you, I've loved you. I've not even looked at another man!"

I scoffed. "You loved me because we were betrothed?"

"Do you know what a betrothal is to a pureblood woman?" She stood, rounding the table to get closer to me. "We're taught it's destiny. Fate. If a contract is created, it's meant to be! We're supposed to be in love!"

"That's not how love works," I replied, looking down at her. She was wearing a dressing gown over a camisole and likely just a pair of knickers, but I felt nothing. "Love isn't decided by parents or contracts. It's something you find and feel."

"But I've felt it for you!" she cried, grabbing my arm. "And I know you've felt it for me over the past year, Draco. We've made love—"

"Sex isn't love, Astoria," I told her, pulling away. "And anything I felt for you was built on lies. It wasn't real."

She looked like I'd slapped her.

"But it could have been! It could be, if you let it be!"

When those words left her lips, I knew she was deluding herself. She'd never really understood me. Unlike Daphne, she'd bought into the pureblood indoctrination, believing the parents knew best and that she had to be the perfect daughter.

"No," I answered, trying to take the harshness out of my voice. "It can't be. If we can't be honest with each other, this marriage isn't real."

"Draco, please, I know I messed up, but—"

"You didn't just mess up. You teamed up with my father. You allowed Granger to alter all my memories. You knowingly got pregnant in hopes that it would fix our relationship. Think about how Scorpius would feel somewhere down the line if he knew that, that he was just a means to an end for you."

There were tears in her eyes, and I could see her trembling. "So what does this mean, then?"

"I don't think you really need me to say it," I replied, trying to be gentle. "You've known this marriage would end since you found out about Granger."

With quivering lips, she said, "You still need your father to agree to it. What makes you think he will?"

"My mother told me that they were planning on coming clean, so I'm sure he fully understands that I'd no longer stay in this farce."

"What about Scorpius?"

My heart squeezed; thinking about how this would affect my son was painful. "We'll work something out. There are plenty of families who manage to share custody. I've no doubt that you'll continue to take care of him as you always have."

"So that's it? You don't even want to try to fix things?" Astoria asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

I looked her straight in the eyes. "I may be talking to you civilly, but I'm furious, Astoria. Regardless of everything else, you allowed them to Obliviate me. You lied to me for a year and a half. You let me flounder and try to regain memories that were completely gone. And, when I did remember something after smelling Granger's perfume, you lied again. Over and over again."

Her cheeks flushed in shame, and she started wringing her hands again. She was utterly broken, but I wouldn't stay in a marriage I'd obviously never been truly happy in because she was upset.

"I'm sorry, Draco."

"I am, too," I replied before heading to the Floo.