As soon as my eyes opened the next morning, I was already tired.
After Draco left, I'd struggled to fall asleep, my brain fixating on the way our casual touches were becoming commonplace. For the first time, he'd openly said that he didn't want to leave. My brain knew we'd made the right decision by saying goodnight and going our separate ways, but my body disagreed.
And my soul?
Well, that was another problem altogether.
From the second he'd vanished through the Floo, I'd felt something missing, the same way I had every time he'd left during the affair. I'd been about half a second away from Flooing back to Harry's house, but I remembered how much wine Pansy had consumed. She was either comatose or likely taking advantage of her husband while the kids slept and I didn't want to disturb them.
Instead, I'd stripped down to my skin and climbed into bed, thinking of Mykonos and the way he'd kissed my neck and commented on my freckles. Just the mere memory of his lips on my neck was enough to send me spiralling, mentally reliving that whole weekend of sun and sex.
By the time midnight rolled around, I was sweating and sated, my magical vibrator tucked away again.
Initially, I'd felt guilty but I pushed it aside. There was nothing wrong with getting myself off, especially if it kept me from jumping into bed with Draco for a bit longer. The touches and memories were getting to both of us, and I was nearly certain he was at home, doing the same.
That thought sent another jolt of heat through me but I managed to ignore it, resolving to focus on the emotional rather than the physical.
Draco and I had been so open with each other, and he'd admitted that he still hoped things between us could work out.
I wasn't alone.
We were both conflicted.
That word reverberated in my head — conflicted. What did it mean for each of us?
Over my morning coffee, I thought about it and cracked a fresh journal. Conflicted, for me, meant that I wanted something with Draco again, but I also knew I wasn't ready, and I didn't think he was either.
Conflicted meant being unsure if we could ever fully overcome our past.
He told me he'd forgiven me, but I couldn't wrap my head around it sometimes. If the tables were turned, I would struggle to forgive him. My anger would've lasted longer. Hell, I'd been angry with him for a long time, both while we were together and after the fact, and it had torn me apart internally.
But I also remembered the things that Penelope and Pansy had said to me recently.
You don't get to decide if he forgives you or not. He does.
I think he's a more trusting person than you are overall, Hermione. He might be able to move past what happened before.
It means he's forgiving you. This — bringing his son over — he's thinking about what the future could hold.
I sighed, feeling more and more confused with every single conversation I replayed in my head. There was one thing I knew for sure, though. I didn't want the soulmate bond to be the reason we ended up together again. I wanted to have a choice in the matter. I wanted Draco to have a choice in the matter.
And, to make sure that happened, I had to research what this bond was and was not capable of. I knew Anima was sitting on my shelf, but it felt too early to get into that kind of project. With a sigh, I retrieved it anyway.
The strip of photos from New York City — the ones that had sent us on this Pensieve journey — sat innocuously against the blank, old parchment that made up the first page. I knew Draco's words had faded into invisibility again, so I revealed them, my fingers tracing over each letter the way they used to with all of his book notes.
When we're not together, I feel your absence and ache for your touch.
That was certainly something I could relate to. After the Obliviation, there had been a gaping pit inside of me for the longest time. Honestly, it had never gone away completely; it had simply shrunk to a more manageable size.
Knowing that we'd be watching memories from New York City tonight, I examined the strip of photos, trying to remember if I was truly happy that weekend or if I felt the same sense of impending doom that I did now. I knew almost every outing and intimate moment had been tinged with sadness that I'd masterfully hidden from Draco.
And now?
The memories were drawing to a close, and I wasn't sure what would happen after that. Sure, last night Draco admitted that he still wanted to see me once all is said and done, but we both knew it wouldn't be the same as the past few weeks. I'd grown accustomed to him coming to my house after work and spending the evening with me.
More often than not, it felt like I'd regained a missing part of my life. I just didn't know if he'd be there permanently, and I didn't want to become dependent on him again.
Through losing Draco, I'd started to find myself. Even if I'd temporarily taken a detour with Blaise, I'd come out the other side a bit stronger. I hadn't crumpled when he'd left. I hadn't cowered and hid myself away.
No, I'd pushed through, continuing to confront my issues with Draco head on.
And, no matter what, I needed to keep doing the same. I couldn't let the conflicted feelings drive me away or back into my own head.
Bringing my attention back to Anima, I turned the page and looked over the rudimentary table of contents to find the portion about soulmates. After taking a deep breath, I skipped to that section. The first sentence made my heart speed up.
It is a rarity and a treasure to find one's soulmate.
That about summed it up.
If one is fortunate enough to encounter their soulmate, they will feel something almost immediately. In some cases, only one party will notice the feeling. The first feeling may be attraction or even just a strong curiosity about the other person. It isn't love at first sight as many imagine it to be.
I snorted, thinking about our skirmishes at Hogwarts throughout the years. Definitely not love at first sight, but looking back, I suppose I had been curious about him. Obviously it hadn't been in a positive way. And Draco had told me that his feelings for me started in fifth year...
Touching skin to skin will strengthen the connection.
Emotions will always be heightened between soulmates. Every feeling — love, hate, and everything in between — will be amplified. Arguments will be passionate.
The only time my skin had brushed Draco's before the night in The Leaky Cauldron was when I had slapped him in the face. The emotions in that situation were already supercharged, so I wouldn't have noticed the jolt. On top of that, Harry and Ron had pulled me away from him so quickly.
Jealousy can flare when one partner accepts the connection and the other does not.
Or when both partners accept the connection, despite the fact that one of them is married to someone else, I thought to myself.
A true soulmate will be able to read their partner perfectly. They will have an understanding of each other that is unrivalled.
While Draco and I were together, I often thought that he knew me better than I knew myself. Whenever I was upset or hurting, he always knew exactly what to do to set things right. He'd been able to sneak around any mental wall I built to block him out when I tried to put distance between us. The only thing I'd ever managed to hide from him was the Obliviation, and that was likely because I'd kept him at arm's length after we'd found out about Astoria's pregnancy.
The bond, while powerful, will not force two people together if they do not want to be.
My heart leapt into my throat and I slammed the book shut, not yet ready to consider the implications of that statement.
Even if it was exactly what I'd been hoping for.
In an attempt to keep myself busy, I'd spent the day out and about, preparing to return to work.
I ended up at Madame Malkin's; I hadn't worn proper robes in years, and I wasn't sure if I'd be required to in the Department of Mysteries. Harry had always worn Muggle clothes in the DMLE, and I'd followed suit. I hadn't seen an Unspeakable in quite some time, so I didn't know what was standard.
Selecting new robes was most definitely a chore, though. Madame Malkin fussed over every aspect of my fitting, likely because she wanted everything to fit perfectly if I was photographed. She tried to sell me flashy colours and styles, but I kept it simple, knowing I could wear my Muggle clothes if I wanted to stand out.
From there, I went into Muggle London and treated myself to a day of shopping and pampering, getting my hair cut and styled.
Overall, preparing for tomorrow had distracted me; I hadn't spent my day thinking about the memories Draco and I would be watching tonight. The trip to New York, which he'd selected, could very easily put us into Pensieve porn territory, and I wasn't sure that was the best idea.
After all, we both knew we'd had a lot of sex during this affair.
Instead, I tried to think about the places we'd gone over the long weekend and what the most important scenes were. All of it had been one big goodbye for me, so it was hard to choose the 'best' moments. Everything was shrouded with sadness.
Instead of letting my thoughts spiral out of control, I tried to remember the happiest I'd felt while we were there, the happiest I'd seen him look, the most exciting thing we'd done together. I focused on the spontaneity we'd allowed ourselves and the funniest things we'd seen, like the Naked Cowboy and a flock of pigeons that seemed to follow one woman through the entirety of Central Park.
As soon as I had a good idea of what I wanted to show him, I closed my eyes and started pulling scenes from my mind, dropping them into the depths of the Pensieve and watching them swirl together. Looking at the surface, I saw a snapshot of the lavish hotel suite that had been adorned with flowers and candles.
He'd been intent on setting a romantic scene for my birthday, not knowing that I was planning to have the weekend act as a goodbye.
A shiver ran down my spine despite the heat of the day and I crossed my arms, rubbing my palms against the opposite bicep and trying to warm myself. My emotions were roiling, close to the surface and threatening to boil over again. Somewhere deep inside my chest, I felt like tonight was going to be different than the previous memories, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Looking at the clock, I realised it was nearly five and I knew Draco would be coming over shortly. Just the thought of him — of the way he'd said he wanted to touch me — made my heart speed up in anticipation.
Heading up into the bathroom, I took a long shower, ensuring that my hair stayed dry.
As I examined my reflection, I noticed the colour in my cheeks and that my dark circles had faded a bit. They certainly weren't gone, but I was looking more alive than I had in weeks. My teeth sank into my lower lip as I considered putting on some makeup. Ultimately, I decided against it. I didn't have a lot of time, and I still wasn't dressed.
On autopilot, I rummaged through my dresser drawers, grabbing a fresh pair of knickers and a matching bra the way I did every single day. The matching was for me, not for him, and even if they happened to be red, it didn't matter. He wouldn't be seeing them. We'd managed to control ourselves thus far, and I was certain we'd continue that trend.
Pulling an old Gryffindor t-shirt on, I smiled to myself, remembering the way he'd used to tease me about still wearing Hogwarts clothing when I was in my mid-twenties. Things like that — the sweet, good-natured teasing — were what I missed most. It wasn't the big moments that I'd been showing him or the extravagant trips.
No, it was the simple nights where we'd do nothing more than spend the evening on my sofa, wrapped around each other as we read. Or the weekends where we walked through the woods near my house, hand-in-hand. Or the little notes he'd leave hidden in my office or my house.
I wanted all of that again, but I wasn't ready to ask him for it. I knew he would have to see the rest and decide if he was on the same page.
When I glanced at the clock, I realised Draco would be coming through the Floo in less than ten minutes. Summoning a pair of jeans, I stepped into them and tucked the pockets back in, checking my reflection in the body length mirror. I was dressed simply, but I looked healthier and more rested than I had in quite some time.
I suppressed a smile and headed down to the main level to wait for him.
The trunk still held its place atop the table and I walked over to it, reaching inside and shifting things around. My fingers grazed the perfume bottle, making me hesitate. It was my favourite and it had been so long since I'd worn some. I couldn't see the harm in it now that he knew everything. Spritzing some on my neck and my wrists, the scent prompted a memory for me. It wasn't anything specific, but I swore I could almost feel his arms around my waist, his lips against the skin beneath my ear. I rubbed my hand against my neck, trying to still the shivers that were stemming from the spot he'd kissed at every opportunity.
With a wave of my wand, I cleared the perfume from the air, only letting it linger on my skin and hoping that he wouldn't notice it straight away.
Anima and the photo strip from New York City were still on the table and I took a deep breath, remembering the last statement I'd read that morning.
The bond, while powerful, will not force two people together if they do not want to be.
My eyes skimmed the next portion.
It is possible for soulmates to exist platonically if they cannot or do not want to be together physically. They will still feel the connection and will want to interact regularly.
I tried to imagine that scenario — one where I would see Draco as a friend. It was preferable to the nothing we'd had for two years, but the thought of watching him move on and possibly remarry made me feel sick to my stomach.
As I continued to read, little things jumped out at me. This bond had likely been responsible for Draco coming back to the DMLE; fate had funny ways of bringing those together when they had already more or less accepted the bond.
And the bond had been solidified by our prolonged physical relationship.
Even if we separated for a time, we would more than likely find our way back to each other again. We'd be back in the same scenario we'd been in with Blaise, jealous and pining and a mess of tangled emotions.
Before I really had time to mentally sort through that, Draco stepped through the Floo and I turned in my seat. He was wearing Muggle clothes — a t-shirt and jeans — and holding a bottle of wine.
The way he looked gave me the strangest sense of déjà vu. His eyes were somehow different — perhaps softer, like they used to be — and his shoulders were more relaxed.
"Hi," I said, forcing a smile. "How was your day?"
Ignoring my question, he replied, "Your hair looks different."
"I had it cut today and the professionals handled it. It'll look nice for tomorrow, in any case." Standing up, I walked towards him and took the wine bottle. "You look different, too."
He looked down at his clothing. "Right. I was moving and unpacking today and I lost track of time—"
"It's not a bad thing. This is how you used to dress when you were here," I interjected, seeing the colour in his cheeks. "You were moving on your own? Why didn't you have the house-elves do it for you?"
"Well, I let them transport the boxes since it's much easier for them, but I wanted to unpack and set things up the way I want them," he answered honestly. "I know I lived on my own for a bit before I got married, but that place wasn't entirely mine. I just furnished it with things from the Manor. This time, I wanted a fresh start."
I set the wine down beside the trunk on the table. "That makes sense."
Awkwardness lingered in the air between us, and it only intensified when he moved over to the table and saw Anima open. Not ready to talk about what I'd read, I started towards the kitchen.
Draco grabbed my arm before I could escape. "Is everything okay?"
"Of course," I blurted, the words coming out so quickly they nearly blended together. I took a breath and tried to slow myself down. "I was just going to grab some glasses for the wine."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
I pursed my lips and his thumb stroked over my skin, making it tingle.
"You were reading Anima, " he prompted.
"I was."
"Why?"
"You said it last night," I began, wishing he wasn't currently touching my arm. "Conflicted feelings rising to the surface and I can't push them down anymore. I wanted to find out more."
"And?"
Somehow, I felt like he was getting closer and closer, but we weren't moving. It was just him — his presence — diffusing into the air around me.
"Let me get the glasses and then we can talk."
I sounded unsteady, like I was scared of what he'd say.
Instinctively, he released me. "Okay. Yes, that sounds like a good plan."
Expecting him to wait at the table, I was surprised when he followed me into the kitchen. I shouldn't have been; he'd often followed me around the house as I did mundane things.
As I opened the cabinet and raised up on my tiptoes to grab the glasses, he stepped up behind me and easily retrieved them, his front nearly pressing into my back. I could feel the heat radiating off him and closed my eyes for just a second, imagining the way he would've pinned me to the counter in the past.
"Why didn't you just summon them if they were up this high?"
His teasing tone brought me back to the present.
"I needed a moment to catch my breath," I admitted, looking at him. "You know, get my thoughts in order."
He took a step back. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Do you—I can go, if you need some time—"
"No, I mean, unless you want to go. If you're not feeling up to it—"
He laughed, breaking the tension. "I don't want to go. Unless you think you need some space."
I probably did, but it was the last thing I wanted. With space came room to overthink everything.
Shaking my head, I said, "I'm okay."
But Draco didn't stop. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and said, "I just don't want you to feel trapped or like you don't have a choice here."
"I don't feel that way."
"Good, because that's the last thing I would want you to think."
He sounded relieved, like he'd been genuinely worried I was just going to give him whatever he wanted.
"And I don't want you to think that you don't have a choice," I told him, needing the same reassurance.
"I want to be here, Hermione."
My heart sped up. "I want you to be here, too."
With that, we turned and left the kitchen. When I was beside Draco, his hand settled on the small of my back. The tingles weren't as intense as they'd been at other times; I was growing accustomed to the small touches again.
"So, what does the book say?" he asked, using magic to uncork the wine when we arrived at the dining table again.
"You can't remember?"
He shook his head. "Not really. I know I've read it and I think I know bits of it, but it's foggy."
Setting the glasses down on the table, I picked the book up.
"Well, for one, it waxes poetic about how finding your soulmate is rare. I have a hard time believing that one, though."
"Why?" he asked, pouring wine into each glass. "It's not exactly common."
"Harry and Pansy. What are the odds that the four of us would all be in the same year at Hogwarts?"
Draco frowned. "And my parents, as well."
"Your parents," I began, trying to keep my voice even, "are soulmates?"
The rush of anger I experienced was unlike any other, and Draco seemed to sense it immediately. He looked at me questioningly.
"And your father — he did this anyway?"
It clicked for him.
"He told me he didn't realise what we were—"
"Don't you dare make excuses for him," I snapped, unable to control it.
"I'm not," Draco said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Really, I'm not. The way he explained it... It was my fault."
I stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
"By the time my father knew and put a tracking charm on me — and this is according to him obviously, since I don't know anything about this timeframe — I was only spending small amounts of time at your house, and then I'd go to the Leaky. I don't know if you can verify that with Hannah or not, but my father seemed convinced that it was just... physical between us."
Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I thought back to the months after he'd told me about the pregnancy. I hadn't let him stay the night with me very often after that, and Hannah had reached out to me on more than one occasion when Draco asked her to. I could see why Lucius would've thought we were only shagging, but it didn't make me any less angry.
"Draco, I don't care about his reasoning. I still hate him for what he did to me."
He took a hesitant step closer to me, grabbing the book and setting it back on the table.
Taking my hand, he squeezed it. "I hate him for what he did to you, too. I've still been cordial with him for my mother and Scorpius' sake, but it hasn't been easy for me."
I bit my tongue, holding back what I wanted to say. I couldn't fathom why he'd want Lucius in Scorpius' life after the things he'd done, but I knew it wasn't my choice. Draco's free hand moved to the side of my face, his thumb brushing over my lip and making me inhale sharply.
"You believe me, don't you?"
"I do."
"What aren't you saying?"
"Your father — he hurt you just as badly as he hurt me. I don't know how you can speak to him."
His face fell. "Because, whether I like it or not, he's my family. He's Scorpius' family. If I stop talking to him, I'll force my mother to choose sides. Even if I've given up the majority of the pureblood ideals, I won't tear my family apart. My mother was forced to choose when Andromeda married the Muggleborn—"
"Ted," I interjected quietly. "Ted Tonks."
"Right. When Andromeda married Ted. She's regretted losing her sister ever since."
He was still holding my hand and touching my face.
I hoped he wasn't expecting me to say that I understood or forgave his father.
"Talk to me," he coaxed, running his thumb over my cheekbone. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"I'm upset that your father ripped us apart and then got to go on living his life, happy as can be, with his soulmate."
The corners of his mouth lifted, surprising me with a smile.
"What?" I asked. "Why are you smiling?"
"You didn't blame yourself. I think that's the first time I've heard you blame my father."
Leaning into his touch, I sighed. "It wasn't entirely my fault. I do know that."
"Good," he answered. "I'm glad that you're realising it, or at least that you're finally admitting it."
As much as I hated to do it, I stepped back and reached for the glass of wine he'd poured, taking a sip. It was perfectly chilled and crisp. He did the same.
"It hasn't been easy for me, you know, living with the guilt."
Draco nodded. "I'm well-acquainted with guilt."
I knew that already, so I gave him a half-smile.
"We got sidetracked," I said, glancing back to the book. "Should we keep talking?"
"If you want to. Or we could jump into the Pensieve. I'll leave it up to you."
"Are you staying at your new place tonight? Or heading home to Scorpius?"
"I'm going back to the house. I've got a bed on order and it won't be delivered until tomorrow."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, "We should probably watch the memory then. I don't want to send you home too late."
He took a gulp of wine. "It doesn't matter. I told Astoria I wasn't sure when I'd be back since this was likely to be a long memory."
Swallowing hard, I tried not to read into that statement; he could stay here late if he wanted to. I needed to focus on something else.
I gestured to the Pensieve. "I've added a few things already."
"Let's finish our drinks first," Draco said. "I've told you about moving. What did you do today?"
After half an hour of chatting, our wine glasses were empty and the Pensieve sat on the table between us, the memories swirling in the basin. I knew we were simply prolonging the inevitable, but it was nice to have a sense of normalcy, everyday conversation flowing between us. When a stilted silence fell over the room, I got lost in my thoughts.
I started fidgeting, spinning the wine glass by its stem, and Draco noticed.
"Shall we?" he asked, making me look up again.
"If you're ready," I replied, deferring to him.
He rose, stretching his arms above his head and lengthening his lean body. I averted my eyes, afraid that he'd catch me staring. He held a hand out to me, offering to help me up, and I took it.
"I told you I wanted to see this. Of course, I'm ready."
Nodding, I stood and took a step towards him. He was right in front of the Pensieve and he kept hold of my hand.
"Are you ready, Hermione?"
With the energy thrumming between us, I felt anything but ready. I was craving him like a drug, settling into a life that I wasn't even sure was possible or what he wanted.
But I lied. "I am. That's why you're here, right? To see the memory?"
He hesitated for just a second. "That's part of the reason. I told you last night… I also want to see you."
My heart sped up a little bit and I gestured to the Pensieve. "Well, the memories are in there. Let's go to New York."
When we landed inside the memory, our hands broke apart and I didn't reach for him again, knowing that we were skirting a line.
"You know, I've never even imagined coming to New York until you suggested it," memory Draco said, standing on the pavement and looking up at the skyscrapers around them.
Memory Hermione forced a smile. "That doesn't surprise me. You love the quiet. I suspect you'd never even go to London if the Ministry wasn't there, and this is on a completely different level."
Present Draco turned to me and said, "Funny that I'll be living in London starting this week."
"I was surprised when you told me, but I suppose it'll suit you for now. I just know you won't stay there long-term."
A sea of pedestrians moved along quickly, a mix of tourists and eye-rolling residents stepping around memory Draco and Hermione.
"Well, where to first?" she asked. "You're the one who planned this trip."
He laced their fingers together. "We have nothing scheduled until this evening, so I thought I'd let you decide."
"Do I have to get dressed up for dinner?"
With a nod, he replied, "Yes, I booked something for seven and then I figured we could decide tomorrow's dinner together."
"Okay, so we have about"—she glanced down at her watch, checking the time—"seven hours before I have to be back at the hotel to get ready. Let's make the most of it!"
She smiled and spun around, making memory Draco spin with her and looking for anything that caught her fancy.
"We could head towards Fifth Avenue," he suggested. "I was told there's a large park—"
"Central Park?" she asked, interrupting him excitedly.
"That's the one. The hotel concierge told me that there's a zoo with a hidden magical creature sanctuary somewhere inside it."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh! I had no idea there was a magical section! We have to go!"
"I'm surprised you didn't have an entire fully researched itinerary planned out," he teased. "You usually do."
Narrowing her eyes at him, she said, "I didn't in Paris."
"You had things you wanted to do. We just... disregarded them entirely."
She shrugged, their joined hands lifting with the motion. "I suppose that's fair."
They walked along the pavement in silence, giving present Draco time to jump back in. "You'd always wanted to go to New York, right?"
"I did. I've always loved visiting different cities around the world. They're all so unique."
"What one was your favourite?" he asked, and the question felt loaded for some reason.
I thought for a moment. "Well, Blaise took me to Venice. I loved it at Christmas — the way it was all decorated and lit up — but not so much this summer. I think I've enjoyed Paris most, no matter what time of year."
At the mention of Blaise, Draco's jaw twitched. I didn't miss it, but I understood his jealousy. If he'd brought up Astoria, I likely would've felt the same way.
Restarting the conversation, memory Hermione asked, "What kind of magical creatures do they have there?"
"Kneazles, Nifflers, some unicorns. Maybe a few small dragons. There's not enough space for larger ones."
"Makes sense," she replied. "Have you ever been to the dragon sanctuary in Romania?"
Memory Draco nodded. "My parents took me when I was really young. I saw one of the dragon tamers flying on the back of one and threw the world's biggest tantrum because they wouldn't let me do it."
A shudder ran through memory Hermione and he looked at her questioningly. After a second, he seemed to remember. "That's right! You've ridden a dragon!"
Turning her head to face him, she raised an eyebrow. "I have. Many times, in fact."
He quickly stepped to the side of the pavement, tugging her with him and pressing her into the side of a building. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers and said, "You know what I meant, Granger."
Breathlessly, she replied, "And you know I can't resist teasing you."
Kissing along her jaw and down to her neck, he chuckled against her skin. As always, he breathed deeply, taking in the scent of the perfume she'd spritzed on her neck.
I squirmed self-consciously, rubbing at my throat and wondering if present Draco had noticed I was wearing that scent tonight when he'd stepped up behind me in the kitchen. He hadn't mentioned it.
"I'd be more than happy to give you a ride right now," memory Draco said, nipping her neck. "But we have plans tonight, and I want you to see every part of New York that you want."
"That was terrible," present Draco interjected. "I can't believe I just tried to make a joke like that."
I shrugged my shoulders. "Half the fun of our relationship was that we could say whatever we wanted and laugh about it."
Memory Draco pulled memory Hermione back into the sea of pedestrian traffic, continuing towards the park entrance.
"In all seriousness," he began, squeezing her hand, "what was it like? Flying on a dragon?"
"I hated it. If I'd had literally any other choice, I wouldn't have done it," memory Hermione replied. "But I hate flying. You know that."
He pouted at her. "I know. I've been trying to convince you for over a year."
"Pouting still won't work on me. Especially not when it comes to this."
"I would say you're no fun, but that would be a lie," memory Draco teased, releasing her hand to swat her bum. "You're plenty of fun in other ways."
I looked over at present Draco and realised how surprised he looked. On this trip — so far from home — we'd been completely open in our affections. For Draco, it had been a respite from the strain in England. For me, it had been a goodbye, one last time to just enjoy being with him.
"Did you ever go flying with me?"
Shaking my head, I said, "No, I didn't. I thought about suggesting it on our last night together, but we never got around to it."
And I regretted it ever since. If there was any way I'd ever enjoy flying, it would be with his arms wrapped around me.
"This park really is quite large," memory Draco said, looking around. "I'm not even sure where to begin."
Memory Hermione grabbed his hand again. "Let's just wander. I'm sure there will be signs along the way."
He smiled at her. "And there are about a thousand people around. I'm sure someone can direct us where we need to go."
We watched them walk along the path in silence, stopping every so often to look at one landmark or another. It didn't take long to find the zoo; it was close to where they'd entered the park. They meandered, smiling and laughing at the penguins and monkeys in the exhibit.
Further down the path, there was a shimmer of magic, and memory Draco leaned in to whisper in her ear. "See that? I bet that's where we go in."
Memory Hermione watched as a Muggle couple brushed against the shimmer and then suddenly turned around.
"That's definitely it. Muggle-Repelling Charm."
Her strides quickened, though there was no rush. Memory Draco trailed behind her, their arms stretched between them. She turned her head and smiled.
"Come on," she whined, tugging his arm. "This is what we've been looking for."
He laughed. "It's not going anywhere. You don't have to rush."
"This is different from the other memories. We're like teenagers," present Draco said, drawing my attention.
"Honestly? I think this is more normal for us." He looked surprised, so I elaborated. "I tried to show you the really big moments that sort of defined the timeline. The emotions in those memories were always heightened."
Nodding, he continued watching the memory. A second later, I felt his hand on my lower back, his thumb stroking along my spine.
I tried my best not to react, but he definitely felt the way I trembled.
As soon as memory Hermione and Draco entered the magical section of the zoo, the scenery shifted, almost like they'd walked through a portal and into another location altogether. And maybe they had — I'd never researched it.
A young, bored-looking witch greeted them unenthusiastically and they walked right past her, moving towards the first exhibit area. Inside a magical containment fence, there were a few unicorns grazing, their foals happily frolicking around them.
"They must have a nursery program!" memory Hermione exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across her face.
"They were all orphaned, and we have these females here to act as surrogate mothers," a wizard told her. "We take on as many as we can. There is a big unicorn population upstate, so we generally release them into the wild once their coat changes colour."
Memory Draco nodded. "That's good. I'm glad they're thriving."
"Best they can," the wizard replied. "Of course, there are still poachers and illnesses, so we usually see anywhere between five and ten orphans a year."
"Poor babies," memory Hermione said, looking at them.
Memory Draco squirmed in discomfort, likely thinking about the baby he'd soon have. I knew I'd been thinking along the same lines.
"Let's see what else they have," he coaxed, pulling her away from the golden foals. "I bet they'll have a Kneazle that looks like your old cat."
She smacked his arm. "Crookshanks was only half-Kneazle, you prat. And don't bring him up. I still miss him."
Raising his hands in surrender, he kept walking, his eyes scanning each side of the path. When memory Hermione saw the next enclosure, she immediately started chuckling.
"Oh, I can only imagine what's about to happen," present Draco said, groaning. "A Hippogriff? What are the chances?"
There was a sign affixed to the fence in front of the enclosure.
Hippogriff baiting will not be tolerated. If you insult the Hippogriff, you will be removed from the premises immediately.
Memory Hermione pointed to it and said, "Do I need to babysit you, Malfoy?"
"I think I learned my lesson," he answered, smiling at her. "I mean, unless you'll fawn over me like Pansy did after the injury."
"Not a chance. If you bait that Hippogriff, you'll be sleeping alone on the sofa for this entire trip. You must know that."
When they stepped up to the enclosure, memory Draco looked at the Hippogriff. It was nothing like Buckbeak; one of its wings was extremely damaged.
"This is incredibly sad," present Draco said, glancing over at me. "Did we know it would be all orphans and injured animals?"
I shook my head. "Keep watching."
"I'm glad these animals have somewhere safe to live," memory Hermione said, her hand curling around the steel bars of the gate. "But, I have to admit, this isn't exactly what I pictured."
Present Draco laughed.
"We can go somewhere else," memory Draco replied, his arm snaking around her waist. "I know it's not the happiest place for you to spend your birthday."
She looked up at him. "No, I want to see everything since we're already here."
The Hippogriff cautiously approached the edge of the enclosure, looking directly at them. Its golden eyes were focused mainly on memory Hermione and it bowed its head.
"I wish I could reach out and pat him."
Memory Draco held his hand up. "There's a magical forcefield. I can feel it."
"I can too," she responded, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. "Let's just go."
Looking around, memory Draco summoned the wizard they'd spoken to at the unicorn enclosure over.
"Does this Hippogriff get much interaction?"
The wizard shook his head. "Not really. Most people are afraid of them."
"I'm not," memory Hermione said, glancing at him with wide eyes. "He's already bowed to me and I've ridden a Hippogriff before. Can I pat him?"
Behind the wizard, memory Draco smirked at her expression. He knew what she was doing.
"She's also ridden a dragon."
"Have you really?" the wizard asked, raising his wand to take the forcefield down. "What was that like?"
Memory Hermione laughed. "Well, it was definitely an experience I won't be repeating. I don't like flying much."
Instinctively, the Hippogriff knew when the forcefield was down and he lowered his head again. She held out her hand and it leaned its head forward, nuzzling against her.
"Aren't you sweet?" she cooed, working her fingers between the feathers to scratch its neck.
"You can bow and try to approach—"
"Thank you, but no. This was for her," memory Draco said quickly.
Smirking, she stage-whispered, "He's afraid of Hippogriffs even though he's a big, brave Auror."
"I'm not afraid," he said petulantly. "I'm just not the biggest fan of animals."
I turned to present Draco and smiled. "But you're getting a cat."
He covered his face with his free hand. "I didn't know what to write, but yes. I do like normal pets. Cats, dogs, normal horses, those sorts."
"And how do dragons fit in there?"
"Dragons are their own entity."
Somehow, he said it with a straight face.
With a laugh, I turned back to the memory.
"How long have you been together?" the wizard asked, looking between memory Hermione and memory Draco.
Memory Draco answered quickly. "About a year and a half."
The man nodded. "And you're British?"
"We are," memory Hermione replied. "We're here on holiday for my birthday."
"Are you one for museums?"
She smiled. "I definitely am. He is too, though I doubt he'll admit it."
"Make sure you get over to the Met. There's an incredible exhibit of Newt Scamander's original sketches for Fantastic Beasts on display in the magical section. The animals he drew still move around the papers."
Memory Hermione's eyes lit up and she looked to memory Draco. He smiled and nodded, signalling that he'd already planned on it.
"Thank you for letting us know!" she replied, giving the Hippogriff a final pat. "And thank you for letting me pat this sweet... boy or girl?"
"Girl. She's been with us for quite some time, so she's used to humans."
With one last smile to the wizard, she rejoined memory Draco and laced her fingers between his.
"When are we going to that exhibit?"
"Tomorrow," he answered, raising their joined hands to his lips. "I've already arranged the tickets."
We watched as they meandered through the rest of the zoo, taking in both Muggle and magical creatures.
As soon as they'd stepped through the gates and back into the park, memory Hermione said, "I'm famished. Let's get something to eat."
"Do you still have that map?" he asked. "I think there's supposed to be exits throughout the park. We'll find something nearby."
"Let's just get some street food," she replied. "I've heard that you can't go to New York City and not try a hot dog."
Memory Draco looked at her as if her hair had turned into snakes. "Street food? Hot dogs?"
"Oh, don't be a snob," she chided, squeezing his hand. "It'll be fun. We'll get something and then sit on a bench and enjoy it. I'm sure you've got us going somewhere ridiculously fancy tonight."
"Did you actually make me eat food from a cart?" present Draco asked.
I nodded. "I did. And you hated every second of it because you're dramatic."
"Let's skip that part, then."
Rolling my eyes, I waved my hand, bringing us to the suite at the Four Seasons.
When memory Hermione came out of the bathroom, she was wearing a tight black dress. It was short, hitting her at mid-thigh, and had a halter neckline. Wrapping a shimmering turquoise shawl around her shoulders, she grabbed a small matching clutch off the table.
Memory Draco wasn't in the room, but she didn't seem concerned. Looking down at her shoes, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
This was it, the last big event in another country. She was trying to psych herself up, to put on a happy face so she could enjoy the night without making Draco feel like there was something off.
"Wow," he said, stepping into the room and looking her over. "I don't even have words."
Slowly, she looked up and met his eyes, blinking as she took him in. He was wearing a black Muggle suit with a simple black tie, his platinum hair falling messily over his forehead.
He took a step forward and she did too, meeting him in the middle. His hand landed on her waist.
"I want to kiss you," memory Draco said, smiling at her. "But I don't want to ruin your lipstick. I know you hate that."
Eyelashes fluttering, she replied, "I've already charmed it. It's not going anywhere."
"I love the way you think."
Leaning down the slightest amount, he kissed her hard, pulling her flush against his body and letting his hands roam. Her arms went around his neck, her clutch falling to the floor as she focused on him.
The kiss was heated, sending magic and fire racing through her veins. I could remember it clearly and my breath caught, drawing present Draco's attention.
"What's going on?" he asked, his hand settling on my lower back.
My fingers moved up to my chest, stroking over my collarbone. His eyes darted down, watching and likely processing what it meant.
"The magic. I remember the feeling of it," I replied, my voice sounding huskier than usual. "It was intense that night, probably because I knew I was going to break the connection soon."
Wrapping his arm fully around my waist, he pulled me closer and I felt the tingles beginning, the magnetic pull nearly too much to bear.
"Like now?" he said, continuing to watch the scene playing out in front of us.
"Even stronger. This — what we're feeling right now — it's a shadow of what that was."
Memory Hermione and Draco pulled apart, breaking the spell that had settled over us.
"I don't want to make us late. We're going to dinner and a show," memory Draco murmured into her ear. "Gods, it feels so good to be almost back to normal. You've been so distant ever since..."
From where we were standing, we saw memory Hermione's eyes squeeze shut. She hugged him tighter, keeping her face hidden from him.
"I don't blame you," he said cautiously, "but I didn't — I thought you were going to end things. I'm so glad you're giving me time to work it out, Hermione."
She forced herself to speak, but her voice broke. "Me too. I've missed you so much."
Memory Draco breathed her in. "Soon, we'll have this all the time. I promise."
Biting her lip, memory Hermione stifled a sob, but her body still stiffened. He picked up on it and pulled back, looking her in the eyes and noticing they were sparkling with tears.
"I'm sorry. I was going to wait until Sunday night to say that, but I couldn't help myself. I feel like it's been months since—"
"It has," she interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. "But I want to be happy tonight and tomorrow and Sunday. Our problems will still be there when we get back to Britain."
"Obviously I was trying to avoid a conversation like that," I said aloud, and present Draco's thumb stroked against my side.
"Did we ever have it?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No. Every time you tried to bring it up, I would put a stop to it. I'd made up my mind already."
Memory Hermione and Draco were kissing again so I turned to face present Draco. Looking down into my eyes, he said, "After everything, I can't blame you for that. I would've left me too." He paused, then added, "Though, I might not have gone so far as to steal memories."
His words sounded like they were nearly teasing, but I didn't know what to make of it. I couldn't imagine just casually joking about this situation, especially from where he stood.
"I know it was wrong," I replied, glancing back over at our memory selves. "But it was what your father wanted, and it simplified a lot of things for me. If you'd remembered, you wouldn't have been able to let go and I don't think I would've, either."
Around us, the room spun, the scenery changing to the restaurant. It was a small Italian place just around the corner from the hotel and I looked to present Draco again.
"Do you want to see dinner? It's just candlelight, wine, pasta... The normal dinner things."
He laughed and shook his head. "Not necessary. We can move along to the show portion of the evening."
I arched an eyebrow at him. "Meaning the theatre, right?"
Again, he laughed and his cheek blushed the tiniest amount. "Yes, of course that's what I meant. Though I'm not going to tell you to skip to the sex."
"How do you know there's going to be sex?" I asked.
"If I've learned anything from what you've shown me, Hermione, it's that I couldn't keep my hands off of you."
It was true. So true.
But I'd wanted his hands on me, and the feeling was coming back in full force. I knew it was presumptuous and all far too soon, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted him the same way I had back then.
If we tried to stay friends and see each other after the memories were through, I knew exactly where we'd end up and I was slowly coming to terms with that.
No matter how much we'd hurt each other in the past, the future could hold unlimited potential. He was divorcing Astoria — if he hadn't already — and I was on my own.
"Hermione?" present Draco prompted me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Where'd you go?"
"Sorry. I just got lost in my own head for a minute," I replied, waving my hand and bringing us to Broadway.
The marquee above the street read WICKED .
Memory Draco was looking up, admiring the lights and the sounds. Memory Hermione was nearly in a state of bliss, happiness vibrating off of her as she took in the sights around them. Most of the other couples were smartly dressed, and I remembered feeling happy that I'd dressed my simple black dress up with a wrap and heels.
"How accurate is this show? It's about magic, right?" memory Draco whispered, his eyes looking at the witch silhouette on the advertisements.
Memory Hermione laughed. "It will be unrecognisable for you. Treat it like any other performance."
He smiled and took her hand, leading her to a private balcony.
"How in the name of Merlin did you manage this?" she hissed, grabbing his tie and pulling him closer.
With a shrug, he said, "I do have connections in America. I just never had a need for them before this."
"Are you telling me that a wizard owns this box?"
"You know that my father has a business. We've been all over the world and, believe it or not, I was quite charming as a teenager when I wasn't at Hogwarts," he explained, leaning down to punctuate it with a kiss. "Until fourth year, we associated with a broader circle when we were abroad. Half-blood families were viewed much differently in America, and Father did business with a lot of them."
"You got these tickets from one of your father's business contacts?"
"Of course not," memory Draco said quickly. "I simply reached out and asked him to connect me with someone who could set this up for me."
Memory Hermione nodded and released his tie. Of course, Lucius Malfoy already knew about the trip and that they were there together so she didn't really have anything to worry about.
"I promise I won't let my father know about you until we can be open about our relationship," he said, tucking a curl behind her ear. "I wouldn't want him to try to scare you off."
Present Draco inhaled sharply and released me, his hand falling away from my waist. "Well, I guess I was a little too late with that one."
Lacing my fingers through his, I squeezed his hand and he turned to face me. I paused the memory and put my free hand on his cheek. "I know it's hard, but we weren't exactly discreet. We were so caught up in each other that we never even noticed we were followed. Or that Hannah had caught on. Or that your aunt had seen us, and no one really approached you."
"Other than Blaise," he grumbled.
"Other than Blaise," I agreed. "This is one of the last things I want you to see. Let's just get through it, and then you can choose whatever else you want to see."
He nodded, the skin of his cheek rubbing against my palm. When I dropped my hand, he turned to face memory Hermione and Draco.
As soon as the memory resumed, they settled into their seats, eyes scanning the scene below them. There were Muggles still milling about, filling the audience seats and chattering away. While memory Hermione continued to take in the sights and sounds of the theatre, memory Draco's attention turned to her, devouring her excitement-flushed cheeks and the way her chest rose and fell with every breath.
"I can't wait for it to start," he said, continuing to stare at her. "If you're this excited right now, I can't imagine what you'll be like when the music begins."
She turned to him. "I've never been to New York, and this seems so much more exciting than the theatre in Britain. I can't explain it. I know it's not that much different, but—"
He leaned closer and kissed her, cutting her words off. "No need to explain, Granger. I love seeing you happy like this."
With a smile, she pecked his lips again before turning back to the stage.
"You really do look gorgeous like that," present Draco said, drawing my attention. "I don't think I've ever seen you so happy."
"I was happy," I told him honestly. "I made myself forget about everything going on at home for this weekend and just... I let myself believe that things could always be that way."
He held back whatever he was going to say, and I didn't push him. I knew he was likely going to tell me that it could've been this way if I hadn't taken his memories but we'd come so far over the past week, and he likely didn't want to revert to blaming me.
As the house lights in the theatre dimmed, memory Hermione leaned on the balcony railing, subconsciously inching closer to the stage.
Memory Draco looked horrified when the inhabitants of Oz celebrated the death of a witch, and I glanced at present Draco. His brow was furrowed with concern.
"It's a fictional story," I reminded him. "Besides, there are plenty of wizarding works that rejoiced in the death of evil Muggles."
"I know. It's just strange to see the reverse," he said, shrugging. "I wonder why I chose this particular musical."
"You probably thought it would be something we'd both understand and enjoy."
Looking back at memory Hermione, he nodded in agreement. "And you certainly enjoyed it."
"Do you want to see the whole show?"
I knew I wouldn't mind watching it again, but it would keep us in the Pensieve for most of the night.
"Is there anything you think I should see? Between us?"
"Not really. As you can probably tell, I was pretty wrapped up in watching the performance."
And then I remembered the intermission, and I felt heat rise into my cheeks.
"Granger?" he prompted, noticing my reaction.
"Well, just more of the usual. During the intermission, I... thanked you for this."
"Thanked me?"
Waving my hand, I moved things along, noticing the way memory Draco had been hungrily watching memory Hermione the whole time. Like present Draco had said, I'd been so happy, and that was a change from the way things had been after we'd found out Astoria was pregnant.
When the scene resumed, it was the intermission and memory Hermione had moved into memory Draco's lap, kissing him passionately. He met her lips with equal fervour, never letting her fully take control. One of his hands was curled possessively around the back of her neck and the other gripped her arse.
Breaking apart, they were both breathing heavily, their eyes clouded with lust.
"Cast a Notice-Me-Not, " memory Hermione said, her voice filled with promise. "I don't want anyone to see us."
Memory Draco licked his lips, wetting them. "You wanted to see a show, Granger. If we start, chances are we won't stop until we have to."
"I have a plan," she said, eyes sparkling. "I think you'll enjoy it."
"Oh? Is that so?"
He wasn't moving quickly enough for memory Hermione so she slipped her hand inside his jacket, retrieving his wand and casting the spell like it was her own.
Squirming out of his lap, she dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for his belt, her fingers dancing over the tent in his trousers.
Memory Draco grabbed her wrist, stilling her. "Hermione, it's your birthday."
"Yes, it is. Therefore, I should get to do whatever I want," she replied with a wink. "And trust me, I want to do this."
Present Draco's grip on my hand momentarily tightened the slightest bit and I didn't let myself look over at him. Instead, I tried to remember exactly what I'd been thinking, what I'd been feeling in that moment.
Twisting, memory Hermione freed her hand and said, "Why don't you just hold onto the chair?"
He let out a shuddering breath and reached forward, cupping her face with his hands. "I don't need a thank you."
"I know you don't, but I'm going to enjoy this just as much as you will."
The sound of the buckle opening was sharp, breaking the near-silence of the private balcony, and we were able to hear each tooth of memory Draco's zipper parting.
"Lift your hips," memory Hermione prompted, and he did, allowing her to tug his trousers down just enough.
Slowly, she worked his cock out of his pants and started to stroke, her hand moving up and down. He'd been hard already so she was merely teasing. When her hand squeezed him, I felt present Draco's hand tighten around mine, too.
As soon as memory Hermione took him into her mouth, memory Draco's head tipped back against the chair, exposing his throat, and he moaned, making a sound that I could still hear in every dream and fantasy. Automatically, one of his hands moved into her hair, just holding on rather than guiding her.
As if he knew he might not get another opportunity, he started watching her, her red lips sliding up and down his shaft. With each movement, she took him a little deeper, sucked him a little harder, teased him with her tongue a little more.
"Are you getting wet?" memory Draco asked, making her eyes pop open.
She held his gaze and pulled back, letting his cock slip from between her lips with a hard suck, making him hiss.
"What do you think?"
"I think you should slip your fingers into your knickers and show me," he challenged, his eyes hot. "Give me a taste."
My free hand moved to my chest, my thumb stroking over my collarbone.
"You do that whenever you're turned on, you know," present Draco said, making me pull my hand away as if I'd been burned. He quickly grabbed it again, like he couldn't bear to be parted from me. "I try to ignore it, but I keep seeing it out of the corner of my eye."
I didn't know what to say. He wasn't wrong and there was no point in denying it. My body was aching for more contact, his magic tingling against my palm teasing me in an indescribable way.
"Granger, watching this"—he gestured to memory Hermione who was doing exactly as memory Draco had requested—"is killing me."
I took a shuddering breath as memory Draco sucked her fingers into his mouth and guided her back to his cock, keeping his eyes on her the whole time.
"We can move it along," I told him. "It's... It's not important, obviously."
"Please don't."
His words made me freeze, the hand I was about to wave stilling in mid-air.
"But—"
"I want to see it." As I met his eyes, he said, "Even if it kills me, I want to remember this."
I curled the fingers of my opposite hand in, making a fist to try to keep myself from touching my chest. The intensity between memory Hermione and Draco was building higher and higher, thickening the air with tension.
"Hermione," memory Draco groaned as she took him deep. "Fuck, that feels good."
She had one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, working in tandem with her mouth, and the other between her legs, her skirt pushed up enough to expose the majority of her thighs. Running his hands through her curls, memory Draco gathered them into a tail, holding on as she continued to drive him crazy.
"Oh gods," present Draco said, watching as memory Hermione's body trembled. "Is she—Did you—?"
I felt my cheeks heat and tried to pull my hand free from his. He only held on tighter.
"I might have. I can't remember for sure."
Memory Draco's breaths were coming quicker, his orgasm quickly approaching. Focusing on him, I saw the subtle signs — his hips were starting to make little movements, meeting her mouth, and his grip in her hair was tightening. His eyes were dark and never left hers.
"I'm going to come," he said, his voice strained.
She kept sucking hard, letting him thrust up into her mouth and set the pace for his finish. Her hand moved to his balls, cupping and rolling them in her palm, making him even more desperate to come.
When he did, he moaned again. Memory Hermione swallowed around him, taking everything he'd given her without complaint.
Immediately, he pulled her up into his lap, kissing her just as hard as he had been before this little interlude had started. They weren't gentle with each other, their passion overtaking their better judgment.
Deep down, I knew we were heading for a scenario like this one in the present. Draco's hand was hot in mine, and I could nearly feel his longing. I was just as out of control and the tension between us was bound to snap eventually.
"You're so perfect," memory Draco said, not letting go of her. "I don't deserve this. Not at all."
Present Draco sighed. "He certainly didn't."
I stayed silent once more, unsure of what I could possibly contribute. Agreeing with him felt wrong, but I knew it wasn't.
My throat was thickening, nearly sore at this point from everything I was holding back. I wanted to feel the way memory Hermione had in that balcony — free, uninhibited, completely drunk on lust, unequivocally in love — again, and I didn't know how to get there.
Memory Draco's hand slipped between them, finding its way to her centre, and she hissed when he touched her.
Breaking away from her lips, he kissed along her jaw to her ear, murmuring, "What do you want? I'll give you anything."
"Just keep touching me like that," she replied, a gentle moan punctuating her words. "Right there."
She rode his fingers until she was shaking with pleasure, stifling her moans by sucking on his neck and leaving a mark.
A few seconds after she finished, the lights dimmed again and memory Hermione said, "Perfect timing."
Memory Draco laughed, his forehead dropping against her shoulder. "For the first time ever."
Not wasting any time, she jumped out of his lap and adjusted her knickers and dress. Their faces were both flushed when they settled into separate seats. When I glanced over at present Draco, I noticed his cheeks were pink too. It made me feel less awkward; this whole situation clearly got under his skin, as well.
And, before I had time to process what was happening, present Draco waved his wand and prematurely ended the memory, throwing us out of the Pensieve.
We landed back in the present and he pulled me into his arms, making time slow around us. My eyes darted down to his mouth just in time to see his tongue running over his lips. I was frozen, scared to take what I wanted but equally afraid to miss this opportunity.
I counted to three, waiting to see what his intentions were.
And then, just as I was about to close the distance between us, he took over and kissed me first.