For what felt like the hundredth time in an hour, I checked my watch. It was going on eleven in the morning and there had been no sign of Granger or Blaise. Potter had sent an owl to let me know he'd be in late.

My nerves were on edge; I remembered how upset she'd looked the previous night. Coupled with both Blaise and Potter being absent, my mind kept jumping to worst-case scenarios.

Was she in the hospital? A danger to herself?

Had Blaise hurt her?

He'd been so angry when he left the office yesterday.

Mel was also looking at the clock and the door intermittently, but I didn't want to speak to her about my theories. She was obviously enamoured with Zabini and wouldn't take kindly to my suspicions.

Trying to focus, I looked down at the file on my desk. Potter had given it to me the previous day, and I had been shocked to find notes in my own handwriting. It was a case I worked on before the Obliviation, and the trail had gone cold years ago. He wanted me to reopen it.

As I read, bits and pieces started to come back to me. This had been one of the last cases I'd worked on, given the dates on a lot of the notes. In June of 2005, it appeared I'd worked tirelessly on it. Reading and re-reading the witness statements, drawing webs of how the victims were connected… It was all a mess, and what I'd been trying to convey wasn't always clear.

And then the pieces clicked into place for me.

My work habits had clearly shifted in June — after Astoria told me she was pregnant. This realisation immediately brought my mind back to Granger, and the spiral started all over.

Had I thrown myself into this case because she wouldn't see me? Or because I was trying to distance myself from her? Had Astoria been watching my comings and goings more closely?

The questions were endless, and I knew it was going to be a long fucking day.

"Malfoy," Potter said as he walked through the department. "Can I see you in my office?"

Rising to my feet, I stretched and followed him to his door.

"What happened?" I asked, and after taking in his exhausted look and serious demeanour, the dread I'd been feeling all morning rose up within me again.

He unlocked the door and stepped through, gesturing for me to follow. I closed it behind me and sat in front of his desk.

"Blaise is gone," he stated, looking straight at me. "He's taken a leave of absence and I'm fairly certain he's in Italy. I don't know if he's alone but—"

I cleared my throat, interrupting him. "And Granger? Where is she?"

Sighing, he replied, "She went to therapy this morning and said she needed time and space to sort herself out."

"Did he speak to her before he left?"

Potter's jaw clenched. "No. He wrote her the worst letter I've ever read. She was a wreck all last night, even if she managed to temporarily hide most of her feelings."

My stomach dropped. I should've insisted that she let me accompany her. I'd known she was upset and then she went home to find some sort of breakup letter.

If Blaise truly loved her, he wouldn't have left her. He would've fought for her and showed her he cared every single day. He wouldn't have been a jealous fucking wanker who couldn't handle the thought of Granger being alone with me at work or showing me the memories.

But it made me wonder…

Did he know that I thought Granger was my soulmate? If I'd known, I most likely had told him.

Is that why he'd given up so easily?

And then, suddenly, I remembered that I wasn't supposed to care. However, I couldn't stop myself from digging.

"What did he say?"

"I'm not going to tell you. Hermione will if she wants to, but suffice it to say, it was horrible," he said, unpacking his work from a pouch. "She wanted me to let you know that she'll still meet you at hers around six. She's not coming into the office today."

"Understandable," I said. "Did the wanker say how long he'd be gone?"

"He left it open-ended, but I don't think he'll be able to stay away from her forever."

Honestly, I understood the feeling all too well.

Before I could reply, he spoke again. "Don't be an arse to her tonight, Malfoy. She's acting tough, but Blaise leaving... it's going to bring out her insecurities."

Thinking back to the way she'd explained herself the first time we'd gone into the Pensieve — how she'd pointed out that Potter and Weasley had left her behind — I knew he was right. Once again, she'd been left behind by someone who was supposed to love her without a proper conversation.

Granger would blame herself for his departure, even though Blaise had let his jealousy get to him. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"I'm trying to move past the anger," I told him. "But it really isn't easy for me. I want to know the whole story now, not little bit by little bit."

Potter exhaled a deep breath in a huff. "Malfoy, it's important to her that you understand why she did what she did. Yes, it was wrong, but her heart was in the right place; she genuinely wanted your son to have two loving parents."

"But that life was a lie! I could feel it from the very beginning."

"Well, she regretted what she did every single day," he stated, looking to me with a serious expression. "She may not admit it openly but—"

"I loved her," I spat, interrupting him. "I fucking loved her for years and she loved me back and I can't remember it. Imagine how you'd feel if Pansy had done this to you."

"I can't imagine it and I'm not saying you shouldn't be angry. I'm just trying to protect Hermione right now. You don't know what she was like after the Obliviation, Malfoy. She was a walking ghost. Not eating, not sleeping properly. I found her half-dead in her house at Christmas the first year."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "She went to Italy with Blaise and then came home. Drank herself half to death and didn't show up at my place for Christmas like she was supposed to, even though I promised the gathering would be small. When I got to her house, I found her in the living room, passed out in her own sick. That's when I brought her to St Mungo's, and she stayed there for almost a full month."

And suddenly, another mystery was solved for me. When Scorpius was born, Potter and Blaise had both been visiting a friend at the hospital. Muggle-born, a bit older than us — that was Blaise had told me, and they were both true statements.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

"She's going to Occlude and act like she's fine, just like she did when you came back to work, but she's not fine," Potter explained.

"None of us are fine. Blaise, Granger, Astoria, and I are all fucked up, and we're pulling the rest of you down with us."

"I wouldn't phrase it like that. I'm trying to pull Hermione up."

Running my hand through my hair, I felt desperate to end this conversation. I needed to process what he'd just told me. She'd told me she'd been institutionalised before we sat down together to watch the first memory, but I hadn't known when or why. I was reeling, thinking of her alone on Christmas Day, drowning herself in alcohol.

Potter was waiting for me to say something, and I was sure my feelings were written all over my face. "I'm not going to kick her when she's down. For the love of fuck, even if I'm furious with her, I still... "

I'd slipped up, my mouth running away from me since my mind was otherwise engaged. I hadn't even processed what I was saying and didn't finish the sentence, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at.

"You still love her."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, as if he actually knew me better than I knew myself. And maybe he did; I was sure he knew more about my relationship with Granger than I did at this point, even if he'd found out after the fact.

"I never said that."

"You were getting close to her before you found the photos. You still felt something."

"I'm always going to feel something," I admitted, even though I knew I shouldn't. "Did you read the note I left her in Anima? She's my fucking soulmate, but apparently that didn't matter to her." Potter's lips were parted in shock, and I took the opportunity to stand and get the last word. "Like I've always said, I don't deserve her. She obviously realised that after I fucked her around for a year."

"Malfoy—"

I didn't wait for him to finish speaking; I left the office, struggling to understand why I'd opened up to him at all.

A little before five-thirty, I started organising my desk. Somehow, I'd been able to block out thoughts of Granger all day after a brisk walk through the Ministry to clear my head. The whole way through, I'd been reminding myself that I had a job to do, and it didn't involve spending the day completely consumed by thoughts of the past.

Once I was focused on what I needed to accomplish in the present, I'd finally gotten through the whole case file, only pausing when Potter held an impromptu meeting to inform everyone about Blaise's leave of absence. Mel's face had fallen at the announcement, but she hadn't tried to get any more information out of me.

He stayed quiet on Granger's position change, though quite a few people already knew about it. There hadn't been an official announcement of any kind; she just left quietly, without fanfare, and I imagined she'd be more comfortable with that, anyway.

As I got ready to leave, I glanced over at Granger's door. Even though I knew she wasn't here, it was a habit. And if I was honest, I could admit I was feeling a bit strange about anyone else taking that office, especially now that I knew our relationship had really started there.

I didn't want anyone else sitting at that desk. Right now, all I could think about was how she looked sitting in her chair, smiling at me as we worked together. Or the jolt of magic I'd felt when she'd helped me learn her photo enhancing charm.

And I couldn't help but remember Granger bent over the desk, arse in the air, her fingers clutching at the opposite edge.

Now that I knew what had happened there, how could I ever seriously sit across from someone else as they talked about legal research?

I tried to move on and focus on the rest of my night, to think of literally anything else. But, given the fact that I'd be going to Granger's house, I just found myself thinking about the memories that she'd likely be showing me. She'd said they wouldn't all be shagging, but would tonight's be?

Would I be rushing home to wank again, the image of her riding me seared into my mind?

I simultaneously hoped for and dreaded that situation.

Though, if she truly was upset, I had a feeling that would be reflected in the memory she chose to show me.

Stowing everything I needed away in my pockets, I ran a hand through my hair and started moving towards the department entrance and the lifts. After pressing the button, I looked down at my shoes, lost in my own thoughts again.

Honestly, I couldn't remember the lift ride or walk through the Atrium to the Floo. My mind was racing, imagining all the ways tonight could go. I could arrive at her house to find it empty, to find her inconsolable, to find her angry.

I could find her like Potter had — unconscious and ill, the few hours she'd had alone a long enough time to get completely pissed.

Or she could be herself — a bit moody and hesitant with me, unsure of what she should do.

Taking a deep breath, I tossed in some Floo Powder and headed to her house, my heart in my throat.

The haunted, resigned look in Granger's eyes froze my blood. She wasn't looking at me, not really, but through me. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot and it looked like she hadn't slept properly. She was Occluding — that much was clear — and she had likely been crying.

Whatever Blaise had said or done, she was still upset that he had left.

And his departure was at least partially my fault, even though I hadn't really done anything but exist in his orbit.

Moving one step closer to her, I asked, "Are you sure you're feeling up to this? You look exhausted."

She shrugged. "I don't think I'm going to feel better anytime soon."

I wanted to ask her what Blaise had written in the letter but I refrained, knowing she likely wasn't ready to talk about it, especially with me.

Instead, I said, "Granger, you're going to be fine without him. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that," she snapped, examining the woodgrain of her tabletop. "I just need a few days. I won't put my life on hold again. I did that when—"

"When you Obliviated me," I interrupted, and she looked up at me, her lips parted and ready to retort. "I wasn't telling you to take all the time in the world, but you could put me off for a night if you needed to rest."

"It won't make these memories any easier to get through, Malfoy," she replied. "This is different than the others. It's not just fucking and jealousy."

Like I'd thought, she'd chosen a memory to mirror her mood.

As she held her wand to her temple, she closed her eyes and I let myself examine her more closely.

Definitely exhausted and stressed. There were signs of sadness, but she hadn't been sobbing. She was dressed like she'd been out and about all afternoon.

Just like the previous day, I wanted to comfort her, even though I was still angry. I had a feeling that this inner conflict would be my new normal.

"Why are you staring?" she asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I pressed my fingers against my eyes.

"Sorry. I was just — I'm sorry." Salazar, I sounded like an idiot. "I'm ready when you are, Granger."

She gestured to the Pensieve, not offering any explanation of what we'd be watching. As my hand moved towards the surface of the memory, she thrust hers in, disappearing a second before me.

When we materialised again, I realised we were in her bedroom and our memory selves were naked, wrapped around each other in the bed. It was clear that she'd skipped the shagging this time around.

This moment was intimate — the calm after the storm. Their skin was still flushed and traces of sweat glistened in the flickering light of the candles lit around the room. In the background, rain pounded against the roof and the window panes.

"Why didn't you ever approach me? Ask me out?" memory Granger asked, her hand stroking across memory Draco's bare chest.

As the seconds passed, silence filled the room and the tension between them grew. Memory Hermione started to shift, pulling away, and memory Draco's arm tightened around her.

"Honestly, Granger, I don't have a good reason," my past self began, knowing he had to say something. "I've told you that I've always wanted you. I can't tell you exactly when it started, but I think Pansy would say fifth year. Probably Blaise, too."

"You were a total arse in fifth, Draco. You took points off me for being a Mudblood."

I was happy to see that memory Granger hadn't let me off the hook easily; it made her seem more like the girl I'd known — and fallen half in love with — at Hogwarts. Glancing to my right, I saw that present Granger was shifting from foot to foot, nearly squirming with discomfort.

Memory Draco rolled to his side, keeping his arm tucked beneath memory Granger's head. Looking into her eyes, he said, "I know. I was in denial. I think I wanted you to hate me so that you'd never be an option." His hand moved to her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking against her skin. "You know what things were like that year. My father was one of Umbridge's biggest supporters."

Scoffing, memory Hermione snapped, "Figures he'd like that toad."

He laughed in response. "I know. He's never had the best taste."

"So what was it about fifth year?"

"A lot of things. Everything, really. From the beginning of that year, it was clear that you weren't going to put up with anyone's shit," memory Draco explained. "You slammed the door to the train compartment in my face and told me off for bullying first years the very first day."

Memory Hermione smiled. "I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to make you a Prefect. Theo would've been the sensible choice."

Pinching her side, memory Draco continued, "If I recall correctly, you — also a Prefect — permanently disfigured a girl's face that year."

"I suppose that's true. But you joined the Inquisitorial Squad and made Harry out to be a nutter all year."

The gentle teasing, the back and forth, was unlike anything Granger had shown me thus far. I could tell that we had been careful with each other's feelings and lessened the seriousness of this conversation on purpose. Our history was a minefield and we always seemed to stand on opposite sides.

The fact that we'd somehow ended up in the middle of it, together, was a miracle in and of itself.

Memory Granger hitched her thigh over his hip, moving closer.

"I don't think you need me to explain why," he answered, his hand moving to her lower back. "My family was in the thick of things and my father had told me to toe the line very carefully. The Dark Lord didn't want anyone to know he was back, so I had to go along with what Umbridge was saying."

Present Granger paused the memory and I looked over at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I should've asked you before. I'm so caught up in my own thoughts today..."

"Asked me what?"

"We're going to talk about the war. Everything about it. Are you okay with that?" she murmured, twisting her hands nervously.

Considering her question, I looked over to our memory selves. I'd clearly already opened up to her. There would be no new information revealed by watching this memory.

"I'm fine with it. Will it bother you?"

She shook her head. "It's not all that bad for me."

"Do I say something embarrassing?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't think so," she answered. "I don't remember every bit of conversation."

"It's fine, Granger. I obviously already told you my deepest, darkest secrets."

The memory resumed.

"It's just hard for me to believe, you know?" memory Granger said, her chin tilting up so she could look memory Draco in the eyes. "That you had feelings for me and were still acting so foul."

"I know. I wish I hadn't been that way." His hand drifted up to cup her cheek again. "I wish I had been brave enough to come to your side, but my family—"

Memory Granger kissed him, cutting him off. "I wish you had, too. So many things could've been different."

I could see the look of hope in memory Draco's eyes. He had taken her words to mean that they could've had a relationship back then, that maybe they'd be together now. Even if she hadn't said it outright, I knew exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

After all, I was currently having the same thoughts. How one small choice in fifth year could've changed the course of my whole life.

"I guess I have something similar," memory Granger continued. "I noticed how ill you looked in sixth year. I was concerned, even though Harry was convinced that you were up to no good."

"Well, he wasn't wrong," memory Draco stated, kissing her forehead. "I love that you try to see the good in people, but it doesn't always exist. My actions were horrible that year."

"But if someone had approached you and tried to help you… Me, for instance—"

"I probably would've pushed you away, regardless of what I felt for you," he replied honestly. "I kept Snape at bay. All my friends, too."

Snuggling closer, memory Granger said, "That must have been lonely. And so hard for you."

I saw his arms tighten around her, desperate to hold on to her now, especially through this difficult conversation. Again, I could imagine what he was thinking — every single difficult moment had led him to this point where she was his, where they were entwined together.

"It was, but I survived."

"I understand that feeling," memory Hermione said quietly. "I told myself that a lot after the war. I survived."

Memory Draco shifted, making sure he was looking her in the eyes. "I could apologise a thousand times for Malfoy Manor, and it would never be enough." He smoothed her hair back, and she leaned into the touch. "You weren't disguised and neither was Weasley. I couldn't—everyone knew who you were."

"I know, Draco. I forgave you a long time ago. I wouldn't be here with you otherwise."

"And you still testified for me," he said, his voice incredulous. "I let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, was a full-fledged Death Eater myself, identified you to my insane aunt, and you still—" His voice cracked. "I never understood why."

Before answering him, memory Granger leaned in and kissed him sweetly. "You never had a choice, Draco. Just like I didn't choose to be born to Muggle parents, and Harry didn't choose the path Voldemort put him on. I didn't want to see anyone our age punished for their actions in the war. We were all children divided up solely by who our parents were."

"I know you're not going to say it back, but I love you, Granger," memory Draco replied. "I love everything about you, but your heart — it's incredible. And your mind, it works so differently from everyone else's."

She gave him a sly smirk. "Just my heart and my mind, then?"

Memory Granger's hips rocked, rolling into memory Draco's beneath the sheet. Despite the intimate gesture, he shook his head.

"We're not done talking," he protested, grabbing her and stilling her movements. "As much as I fucking love your body, this is important. I need you to know—"

Cutting him off with a sweet kiss, she said, "Tell me everything. I want to know every last detail."

"I've been a mess since the day I was marked," memory Draco confessed, looking into her eyes. "I was always afraid of something happening to my mother or my father being kissed in Azkaban. And the Mark — it's not just a tattoo, which I'm sure you know. It would burn to summon me, and I would be terrified that my mother would be dead at his feet. After I saw Nagini eat Professor Burbage…" He shuddered, his whole body shaking at the memory. "I thought it would be me or one of my parents next. I can't even begin to describe what that kind of fear did to me."

Reaching for his arm, memory Granger ran her fingertips over the Mark, tracing the snake and skull like she knew them intimately.

And, in a way, I supposed she did; it seemed like she was completely comfortable touching every inch of memory Draco's skin.

Beside me, present Granger was watching with an air of detachment, her mind completely sectioned off from what was happening in front of us.

"I can't even imagine," memory Hermione said. "Although, that's why I Obliviated and hid my parents."

Memory Draco pulled his arm away so he could stroke her hair again. "I read about that in the paper. Have you ever been able to correct it?"

Just as I knew she would, memory Granger shook her head.

"No. I stopped trying after the first year. It was expensive, and we risked doing permanent damage to their minds. I have healers visit them twice a year to see if they remember anything, but it's never changed. I've gone to Australia a few times, as well."

"Have you kept up-to-date on Memory Charms since then?"

"Not really," she answered. "I… It hurts, to know that I did this to them. That I changed their lives forever. It was only supposed to be a few months, and now it's been years."

Memory Draco leaned forwards and kissed her forehead, somehow pulling her closer. "I'm sorry, Granger. I wish things hadn't been so bad that you had to do that."

"Everyone knew I was Harry's best friend," memory Granger said, tears escaping her eyes. "I didn't have a choice. I didn't want them to be killed."

"Of course not," he said, tucking her face flush against his chest. "I'm so happy you protected them. The Dark Lord knew you were with Potter, Granger. He sent Death Eaters to your parents' house. The address was on record with the Ministry and Hogwarts."

"I know. I went back after the war. There wasn't much left."

Seeing everything — hearing this conversation — was hard for me. I was talking so openly, being there for her in a way that I'd never really been there for anyone before. We were trading secrets and stories, the superficial sexual relationship shifting into something more serious.

Again, he ran a hand through her curls, stroking her head and remaining silent. However, the silence that filled the room wasn't uncomfortable.

When memory Granger spoke again, she was quiet. "I've felt so alone since the end of the war. This is the first time that I feel like someone really understands how hard it was for me to do something so horrible."

"Horrible?"

A sniffle escaped her. "Yes. After everything they'd done for me and how accepting they'd been of the magic and my place in that world—"

"Stop," memory Draco said. "It's not like you did it to push them out of your life, Hermione. They were in danger."

"I know, but that doesn't make me feel any better. They're never going to remember that they have a child," memory Granger cried, letting all of her emotions show. "You don't know what it meant to them. They tried to get pregnant with me for over five years, and I just made them think that it never happened—"

"You did what you had to do to protect the people you loved," he interrupted, kissing the crown of her head while he held her close. "I'm sure you'd say that to me if I was blaming myself for Dumbledore's death."

I glanced over at present Granger. She was watching me, likely gauging my reaction, and I said, "I still think you did the right thing."

She shrugged. "I obviously didn't learn my lesson the first time around. The guilt… It was worse when it came to you, especially since I remembered conversations like this one."

The memory was silent, save for the occasional kissing or shifting sound. They remained entwined and I watched, longing to remember what it actually felt like to have her in my arms, to hold her close like that.

But of course I couldn't. I would never truly remember how it felt to have her skin warming mine, her breath on my bare chest.

"We could research it," memory Draco said, breaking the silence. "It's possible that you and I could find a way to reverse the memory alteration."

I saw memory Granger wiggling upwards so she could look him in the eyes.

"No. I don't think that's a good idea," she said. "You're—This isn't a real—"

"Don't say it," he pleaded. "Please, Granger. It's real for me. I told you that in Mykonos."

"But you're going to leave."

Her statement was quiet but definite, her meaning written all over her face. Memory Draco always left her, though I wasn't sure how he managed it when she looked at him like that.

"Not tonight." Kissing her, memory Draco tried to claim her lips. "I'm staying. I want to be here with you."

Memory Granger bit down on her bottom lip. "Okay. You can stay."

"But we're going to talk more," he told her. "I was serious — I think we can figure out the memory modification."

She shook her head. "Really, I don't want to, Draco. It's been so long now. They would hate me if they knew—"

"Do you really think so? Because, as someone who's in your life, I can honestly say that it would be really hard for me to hate you."

"Bet you've changed your mind on that one," present Granger interjected, looking down at her shoes. "If there was ever any question on how my parents would've felt, it's been answered for me now."

I didn't know how to respond. I'd told Blaise that I hated her. I constantly thought that I hated her. But, when it really came down to it, I wasn't sure. Deep down, I knew I hated that she'd taken years away from me, stolen my memories of her and the relationship that would've meant the world to me.

But could I truly hate her?

My eyes roamed over her body from head to toe, and I felt the same pull towards her that I'd felt my whole life. I wanted her with every fibre of my being, but I wouldn't give in again.

She'd ruined whatever it was we'd had.

Or I'd ruined it when I got Astoria pregnant.

Either way, that relationship was gone now, especially for me.

"You don't know them," memory Granger replied, her voice becoming hysterical. "Like I said, they wanted a child so badly and I just… They had me, and then I was a witch and I was gone for most of the year, and then I completely removed myself. If they remembered everything and hated me, I wouldn't survive it."

A lump formed in my throat.

"You would," memory Draco reassured her. "You're the strongest person I've ever met. They would forgive you eventually, and I'd be there for you every step of the way."

And regardless of what had happened, I still thought that was true. Granger was still standing, even after life had knocked her back again and again. The misfortune of being Muggle-born during Voldemort's reign, being Potter's best friend through the whole mess, her failed relationship with Weasley, her loneliness, the things I'd done to her… Now Blaise's abandonment, as well.

Again, memory Granger bit her lip, likely holding back the comments about how I couldn't possibly be there for her with a wife at home.

"Can we drop it for tonight?" she asked.

"Only if you promise to think about it," memory Draco answered. "I'm not saying we have to do it now, but I think we should try to find a way."

"I'll consider it," she said carefully. "This isn't a promise, Malfoy. I just — I can't say whether or not I'll ever want to do it."

My past self sealed their conversation with a kiss, gripping her thigh and hiking it higher before rolling her onto her back and settling between her legs.

"Consideration is sufficient for now," he breathed against her lips.

When we landed back in Granger's sitting room, I felt cheated. Just as the usual show was about to start, I'd been ripped from it.

I realised that I shouldn't think of it that way; she hadn't meant for tonight's memory to be sexually charged. She'd wanted to get our conversation about the war and her parents' Obliviation out in the open.

Honestly, I had no idea what to say now that we were back in the present. I decided to start with the easiest part.

"How long did it take you to agree to researching Memory Charms?" I asked, making eye contact with her.

She shrugged. "A few months, I think. We started right after Christmas. I… I got a letter from the healers I told you about. They finally gave up and said there was no point in them continuing to check in. That's when I agreed to it. We talked about it again."

"And during this research… Did we find anything valuable?"

Granger sighed. "Look, all we found was that the charm I'd used was likely irreversible because it had modified nearly eighteen years of memories all at once. Yes, there were less of them once I started at Hogwarts, but it was too much."

"That's all we found? In nine months?"

"Things between us changed, Draco. As soon as Astoria got pregnant, our time was more limited," she explained. "But our research did get me thinking about how to make Memory Charms less permanent if the situation called for it. That's how… Well, it's how I came up with the idea—"

"To remove rather than modify," I interrupted, anger simmering inside my chest. "Like you did for me."

With a nod, she continued, "Yes. I mean, there are a few that were modified. The ones about Astoria. But mainly, they were just removed."

My eyes darted to the trunk on the table. "Why are we watching yours, by the way? Wouldn't it be easier to see things through my own eyes?"

Her fingers danced around the edge of the Pensieve, looking down on our past selves entwined on the bed, waiting for someone else to enter the memory.

"I want you to see things from my perspective," she said quietly. "Maybe that's selfish, but I didn't—This wasn't easy for me. I need you to know why I didn't fight for you."

"Other than Scorpius?"

"Other than Scorpius." Granger cautiously glanced up, examining me like she was trying to decide if she should ask me something or not. Something on my face reassured her. "How is he?"

For a moment, I didn't realise who she was asking about. She hadn't yet asked me about my son. My tongue darted out, wetting my lips before I started to speak. "He's doing well. He was a little out-of-sorts when I wasn't living at home, but he seems better now."

"Good," she answered. "I'm glad that you and Astoria are working things out."

I couldn't tell if she was fishing for information or if she simply meant we'd sorted out a schedule for Scorpius, but I didn't want to get into a loaded conversation about my relationship with Astoria. I'd told her that I was sleeping in a separate bedroom, but everything felt so different now that Blaise wasn't looming over us.

For the first time in my life, she felt entirely within my reach. I knew I'd had her before, and that certainly helped, but now…

I didn't think I could trust her.

Maybe that would change over time. Maybe I'd eventually understand why she'd Obliviated me. I knew I had been a horrible person — keeping a wife and a mistress for over a year — but there must have been another way forward.

The silence had gone on too long, so I broke it.

"Can I ask you something now?"

"Anything," she replied, sounding like she really meant it. "I'm an open book, so to speak."

That made me smile.

"Why didn't you just tell Potter about my father's threats?"

Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she tried to figure out how to phrase her response.

"A lot of reasons, I guess."

Her answer was frustrating, but I pressed her. "Give me something. One reason, other than Scorpius."

"Honestly? Guilt."

"Guilt?"

"Being the other woman isn't pleasant, Draco. I'd always been the type to support other females, and there I was, sleeping with another woman's husband. It didn't matter that we were in love—"

I cut her off. "I understand what you're saying. I'm sure you were also angry with me a lot."

"I was," Granger confirmed. "You told me all about how you'd been in love with me for years on more than one occasion, but you never acted on it. I spent so much time angry that you'd never found the courage to just let go of the past and approach me. I'd always been friendly towards you."

"Why did you fall in love with me?" I blurted, unable to stop myself.

So far, I hadn't seen any reason for her to, other than great sex.

She looked down at the Pensieve again, examining the scene.

"Can we save that one for a few days from now?" she asked, her voice shaky. "I think it'll be pretty obvious after the next two memories."

Even though she'd piqued my curiosity even more, I only nodded.

"Well, if there's nothing else…"

Her voice had trailed off, and I knew she was waiting for me to say something. I just didn't know what.

I'm sorry I never put you first?

I'm sorry that I got Astoria pregnant and hurt you so badly?

No, that wasn't true — I wouldn't give up Scorpius for anything now that he was here.

I'm sorry that Blaise hurt you too?

It hurts me to see you hurting like this?

That was closer to what I was feeling.

"I think that's all for tonight," I replied, keeping things as simple as possible. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Granger shook her head. "No. I'm going to owl Kingsley and let him know I'm taking tomorrow and next week off. I'm seeing my therapist and trying to sort my life out a bit before I start in the Department of Mysteries."

I felt my chest tighten and my throat swell, keeping all the words I wanted to say from escaping.

But I'm not ready for you to go.

I like seeing you every day.

I don't want anyone else in your office, in the space that was once ours.

Once we're done with the memories, will I ever see you again?

"Well, I'm sure the time off will be nice."

She forced a smile. "I think so."

"So… Saturday, then. Same time?"

Nervously, Granger said, "We could have dinner. I could show you some things from the trunk. You know, before we watch."

My heart sped up at the thought of some extra time, a few more mementos from our past. Whatever she showed me might help to connect some more dots, fill in the gaps.

"I think I'd like that," I replied, not giving myself the chance to overthink it.

Her breath left her in a huff, and I realised she'd been holding it all in. She was just as nervous as I was.

"Okay," she stated. "I'll see you around six? Or should it be earlier? I don't know how long you'll have."

"As long as we need. Six is fine, Granger."

When I looked at the mantle, the otter and the dragon were back in place, observing her sitting area.

I tried to push down the hopeful feeling that they gave me.

Author's Note: Aaaaand I'm back. Sorry for the break. Life just got too crazy and this chapter and the next needed some pretty severe edits. Hopefully it was worth the wait!

As always, thank you so much for reading! Your comments are all wonderful and mean the world to me.

I'll have a Valentine's short story popping up on AO3 tomorrow. Keep an eye out!

Thank you to my team for putting up with my crazy as I tear chapters that have been written for months apart and make them re-edit them. You guys are the best.

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