Draco — 23rd July 2007

On Monday morning, I walked into the DMLE just after ten. I'd spent the morning with Scorpius and he always cheered me up. On top of that, I was looking forward to seeing Hermione tomorrow and hoping that she'd want to go for coffee again.

That she'd let me kiss her the same way I had last week.

That maybe — just maybe — she'd give me another a little piece of herself.

I closed my office door behind me, not ready to deal with Mel or any of the other Aurors quite yet. As I settled into my desk chair, I took the journal out of my pocket and re-enlarged it. Cracking it open, I saw that the page still contained our last messages. There was nothing new, but I knew she was seeing Healer Clearwater this morning, so I wasn't surprised that I hadn't yet heard from her. Deciding that I'd initiate our daily conversation, I grabbed a quill and scribbled a quick note for her.

Hope you slept well. I'm at work now and it still feels a bit strange to sit on your side of the desk. Hope your appointment went okay and that Pansy didn't interrogate you too much this morning.

Closing the journal, I set it aside and reached for the contents of my in tray. I skimmed each request, scoffing at the laziness of some Aurors, and sorted them into low, medium, or high priority. I kept the most urgent one on my desk and started to work on it, even though I knew I'd have to go into the archives to retrieve more information to complete it.

An hour passed more quickly than I would've liked and I rose, stretching my arms over my head. I needed another cup of coffee before I went in search of files.

When I stepped out of my office, I saw a familiar, very unwelcome face.

Potter was in front of his office, talking to Blaise.

At the sound of my closing door, my former best mate looked up at me and immediately started walking over. My fists clenched at my sides and I was tempted to let it all go, to be the bigger person and ignore him.

But I couldn't. Especially after reading Hermione's journals and seeing the way he'd snuck behind her defences, little by little, throughout the course of our affair. All the anger I'd initially felt towards him had resurfaced.

Instead, I took five quick strides and met him halfway in full view of everyone in the office and punched him square in the face. I heard my knuckles make contact with his jaw and saw him sway.

"You fucking wanker! How could you do that—"

Potter immediately drew his wand, immobilising both of us, silencing me, and casting a protective shield around Blaise in rapid succession.

"Malfoy! What is wrong with you?"

I glared at him, unable to speak.

"Zabini, in my office. Malfoy, go to yours."

"No," Blaise said, spitting blood onto the office floor. "He's obviously got things to say, and I do too."

I felt a sick sense of satisfaction, knowing my punch had landed and cut up the inside of his cheek.

Somehow, he broke through the charms and lurched forward, trying to get to me, but Potter threw an arm out, stopping him.

"He's fucked her over again," Blaise snarled. "Why else would she be gone—"

"That's enough, Zabini!" Potter snapped, casting another Immobulus to freeze his movements. "We're not doing this in the middle of the DMLE!"

I knew he was right — we were drawing far too much attention to ourselves. Every eye in the office was already trained on us, bouncing back and forth between Blaise and me and watching Potter to see how he'd handle this situation.

Potter took off his glasses, cleaning them with his shirt and shaking his head disapprovingly. "All three of us will go to the conference room. Do I need to bring another person to keep you two from duelling to the death?"

I shook my head, still unable to speak and growing more and more frustrated about it. He released the Silencing Charm, but gave me a stern look when I opened my mouth.

"I'll take Zabini into the conference room and heal his mouth," Potter said. "Malfoy, take a few minutes to get your head on straight."

"I don't need—"

"I said take a few minutes," he snapped. "The two of you can't be in here shouting and hitting each other. I'll have to lock you both up and that won't look good for anyone."

Storming back to my office, I immediately closed the door and picked up an inkwell, hurling it against the wall. The glass shattered and ink splattered everywhere, painting the blank space behind my desk black.

I'd lost hold of my temper and was having trouble regaining it. Blaise hadn't even provoked me; simply returning to the office had been enough. The anger had risen up inside of me the same way it had when I'd gone to Malfoy Manor and written to Hermione after watching memories.

It was so close to the surface these days — had been since I'd found out about the Obliviation — and I knew I needed to sort it out with Healer Clearwater before it got worse.

I leaned back against my door, my breaths coming more quickly than they should've been. As I tried to steady myself, I couldn't stop thinking about Hermione and Blaise, the way he'd spent so much time speaking to her behind my back when she and I were together.

Had he even really spoken to me while I'd been with her?

I'd remembered at least one instance before, but I thought harder now, hoping that more memory gaps had corrected themselves.

I could see flashes of Blaise, hear vague snippets of conversation, but it was still foggy and I wasn't sure if it would ever clear up. I knew he'd continuously told me to make a decision, to end things with Hermione or divorce Astoria, but I couldn't remember if I'd ever told him that I was actively trying to get a divorce.

The lack of recall only added to my anger; it was painful to know I was going into this confrontation with less knowledge about the past than he had.

I continued to take deep breaths and attempt to centre myself.

For the first time, I understood why Hermione had more than one appointment with Healer Clearwater during the week; trying to reconcile the past with the present was the most stressful thing I'd ever done.

One by one, the seconds ticked by, but I had no idea how long I'd actually been standing there until there was a knock on the door. Vanishing the ink and glass mess with a quick wave of my wand, I turned and opened it.

Unsurprisingly, it was Potter.

"Have you pulled yourself together?"

"Almost."

He sighed. "Why did you hit him, Malfoy? What were you thinking?"

I snorted. "I obviously wasn't. I saw him and lost control of myself."

"Before you march in there wand blazing," Potter began, looking me straight in the eyes, "you should know that he only came back to hand in his Auror credentials. He's officially resigned and is staying in Italy."

Staying in Italy. He wasn't coming back to try to repair things with Hermione.

Some of the anxiety I'd been feeling started to dissipate.

When I didn't say anything, Potter continued. "It was only when I gave him the ring back that he asked where Hermione was, and I told him I didn't know. I should've explained better, but then you walked out and he went straight for you."

My mind went blank after the word ring .

"Ring?" I asked. "What ring?"

Potter's face blanched.

"What ring, Potter?"

"Fuck," he said, stepping into my office fully and closing the door behind him. "I didn't know… I thought she would've told you."

She. Hermione. Ring.

Had they been engaged? Had I been the only one who didn't know ?

I moved to the other side of my desk, my fists clenched at my sides, bracing for what might come next.

"When Zabini left, he wrote Hermione a letter—"

"I know he wrote her a fucking letter," I snapped. "You're the one who told me about it."

Potter held his hands up in surrender. "There was a ring — a big engagement ring — in the envelope with it. Hermione sent her Patronus to get Ron and me, and I've had the ring ever since."

Stunned, I asked, "He just put a ring in an envelope with a letter?"

"And told her he'd been planning on proposing when they went away for her birthday," he answered. "Told her he'd always love her, even if she was too broken to love him back."

My anger flared again. Not because of the ring, but because of what Zabini had written. "He said that? That she was too broken?"

Potter nodded. "I'm not making excuses for him. What he did was terrible, but you can't—" he took a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his forehead and revealing the famous scar "—just punch people in the office, Malfoy. You know that."

I did know that, rationally. But I was seeing red again. I didn't even care about what he'd done to me anymore. I cared more about the things he'd said to Hermione, the way he must have made her feel. My jaw was clenched just as tight as my fists had been and I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Can you do this? Have a conversation without hexing, cursing, or hitting him?" Potter asked.

I seriously doubted it, but I knew I had to try for Hermione's sake. I needed to stand up for her, even if it was far too late.

"I will do my best," I replied tersely. "But no promises, Potter. If he says anything out of line—"

"Leave your wand on your desk," he interrupted.

"You know very well I can use wandless magic."

"To my knowledge, that power doesn't extend to Unforgivable Curses."

"I wouldn't use an Unforgivable," I replied, narrowing my eyes at him. "I can live with getting fired, but I don't think Hermione would be willing to visit me in Azkaban."

He snorted a laugh and shook his head as he opened the door. "Let's get this over with."

Straightening my suit jacket, I tried to tamp down the anger that had risen inside of me and followed Potter. Before he opened the conference room, he turned to face me.

"Try to remember that she chose you already, Malfoy."

I didn't say anything in response. Logically, I knew she'd chosen me and would likely always choose me, given our connection. She'd told me she loved me. But she'd also told Blaise she loved him, and that seemed to erase the logical part of my mind.

When we crossed the threshold, Blaise was leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed over his chest, taking a defensive stance.

Gesturing to the table, Potter said, "Why don't we all sit?"

"I don't think so," I said, narrowing my eyes at Blaise.

After several excruciating seconds of silence, Potter stepped in. "Blaise, what is it that you wanted to say to Malfoy?"

Blaise glared at me. "Where is she? What have you done this time—"

"What have I done? What did you do to her?" I interrupted, turning the tables back on him. "You're the one who abandoned her when she was struggling!"

"That's rich coming from you. You're the one who abandoned her time after time and never even fucking realised it was killing her!"

"And you're the one who promised her you'd always be there," I reminded him. "When I was in the wrong, you did your damndest to make sure you were her shoulder to cry on!"

"And you didn't promise her the same thing, even when you shouldn't have?" A muscle in his jaw tightened. "What did she really need me for after you found out? She was going to leave me. It was only a matter of time. I made it easier for her."

"You think telling her she was broken made things easier for her?"

He looked away. "In the long run, yes. She didn't have to choose."

Potter scoffed. "You twisted the knife in her gut, Zabini."

"I had to! I couldn't go back to being her friend and wanting so much more. I couldn't watch her be in love with him again, not after I'd come so close!" Blaise said. "I had to make her hate me."

I shook my head. "She told you. She told you about her parents and her problems with feeling left behind and you just—"

"I'm sure you were there to pick up the pieces," he snapped. "Even though you'd left her to be with Astoria over and over again."

"You know I wasn't! She and I weren't in a good place at that point! I was still angry with her, and then you were gone! She was alone again!"

"Ron and I were there for her," Potter interjected, but we both ignored him. Ultimately, this was between Blaise and me.

"How could you just leave her like that after everything she'd already been through?"

"Shouldn't you be happy that I did?" Blaise countered. "Didn't you worm your way back into her knickers pretty quickly?"

My magic welled beneath my skin, building in my palms. From experience, I knew there was enough there to throw a wandless hex at him, but I held it at bay.

"If you loved her, why would you want to hurt her that way?" I asked, trying to keep the focus on what he'd done to Hermione rather than how it had ultimately benefitted me.

"I've already explained that. Are your listening and communication skills as horrid as they were before?"

Without thinking about it, I threw a Stinging Jinx his way, hitting him in the thigh. He rubbed his palm over his trousers and glared at me again.

Potter cast another shield between us, focusing much more intently than he had in the office. "Malfoy, I'm warning you. One more spell and this is over," he said before turning to Blaise. "And Zabini, she loved you—"

"Hermione never really got over him," he snarled, interrupting Potter. "She was pretending! She didn't really love me. Not the same way I loved her."

Rather than waiting for him to continue, I interrupted. "You know, Blaise, she could have loved you if you'd really given her a chance and been yourself. Instead of just being there when she needed you, your whole focus became keeping her away from me and marking your territory like a fucking caveman." I shook my head. "She took a chance on you because of the way you treated her when you were her friend and as soon as I came back, you changed."

"And what should I have done? Let her just slip away?"

"Acted fucking normal and helped her through the adjustment, rather than inserting yourself into every interaction we had!" I took a deep breath. "You had a chance to really be her hero and instead, you got jealous and angry. That's why you lost her. You pushed her away."

Blaise crossed his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow, clearly signalling that I should examine my own actions in the mirror.

"I know I'm not one to really talk," I began, meeting his eyes. "I know that I handled things badly for a long time. I can't tell you why for certain since I can't remember my thoughts, but I know I should've left Astoria. I was a coward and I hurt both her and Hermione because I was selfish. I deserved to lose her when I did."

He scoffed. "No kidding. I knew she'd wake up eventually."

Narrowing my eyes, I said, "You got close to her on purpose. While she and I were together."

His throat bobbed on a swallow, but he didn't try to deny it. I'd suspected as much from the time Hermione had shown me the very first memory, but receiving this confirmation felt like another blow to my already shattered past. Blaise had been the one person I'd always trusted with all my innermost thoughts and feelings and he'd betrayed me, stealing her away when he got the chance.

"And you tried to convince her to end things with me over and over again," I snarled. "When you knew . You knew how I felt about her the whole fucking time!"

"You didn't deserve her!" He pushed off the wall and moved closer to the table, getting closer to me. "You never fucking deserved her. For the longest time, I assumed that you were going to leave Astoria, and you never did!"

"Oh, and did you suddenly forget that you're the one who convinced me to go through with the wedding? Did you already think you were in love with her then?"

Blaise wasn't shocked; he'd known Hermione had shown me this memory first.

"I've been in love with her almost as long as you have," he admitted, challenging me.

"You and I were friends for over ten years—"

"And I had to listen to you talk about her the whole fucking time! Even though I always felt the same way, I encouraged you to pursue her and you didn't!" he shot back.

"Well, neither did you until I'd already had her! For Salazar's sake, Blaise, you two never had the animosity that we did! Why wouldn't you have asked her out?"

"Can't you remember the time before you got married? Before your affair began?" he asked bitterly. "I was chatting her up one night — Valentine's, I think — and you saw us together. You lost your mind and said that you couldn't watch her fall in love with me."

That actually sounded like something I would've said, so I didn't argue with him, even though I couldn't remember it specifically.

Instead, I threw another question at him. "Did you ever even ask if I was trying to divorce Astoria? Or did you just assume I wasn't?"

"Are you joking?" he asked incredulously. "Do you know how many times I told you that you needed to make a decision? That things were going to end badly for you?"

"Well, you basically ensured that. You agreed to help Hermione find a way to Obliviate me."

"Over a year later!" Leaning forward, he braced his palms on the table. "A fucking year! Do you know how many times she came to me crying before then?"

"You should've told me—"

"You should've known, Draco!" Blaise bellowed. "Did you honestly think she wasn't hurting? Think of all the times she tried to end it with you!"

"I would," I hissed, dangerously low, "if I could remember them. Do you know what it's like to live my life, Zabini?"

He didn't respond.

"Let me enlighten you. The only way I can find out about my past is to watch all the memories. Do you know how many hours that would equate to? How much time I'd have to spend in the Pensieve?" I paused for effect. "A fucking lot. And, on top of that, I still wouldn't remember everything. I can't remember how I felt or what I was thinking. I think those things are permanently gone, so I can't even properly explain why I did one thing or another to Hermione. I get so fucking angry with everyone! With her for giving up, with myself for never giving her what she needed, with you for being such a fucking snake and slithering into her life! With Astoria for guilting me into sleeping with her after she took a fertility potion! And with my parents for interfering, the same way they always have!"

My chest heaved, trying to remind me that I needed to breathe between sentences.

"And now that Hermione's not here to watch them with me—"

Blaise interrupted me. "And where is she?"

"I don't know!" I answered. "I know that she's working, and that's it! Her location is confidential now, Zabini! She's an Unspeakable!"

Even though he'd known she was making a career change, he seemed surprised. "She still switched departments?"

I scoffed. "Of course she did. She was never really happy doing mediocre research."

His statement proved just how little he knew about her.

"How did you fuck things up with her already?" Blaise asked, narrowing his eyes at me. "There has to be a reason why she agreed to be sent away so soon."

"We're still figuring things out," I obfuscated, not willing to tell him exactly what had happened before Hermione's first day in the Department of Mysteries. "There's a lot between us to work through, but I'm not going to talk about it with you. It's none of your fucking business."

A muscle in Blaise's jaw visibly clenched and I knew he was holding something back.

"She wanted to be with you. Hell, she wanted to make it work with you. She invited you to therapy with her so you'd understand—"

"What was there to understand, Draco?" he said, interrupting. "As soon as you came back, she changed. She wasn't my Hermione anymore."

As much as I wanted to know what had changed between them, I didn't ask. I didn't really want to know what made her his Hermione.

"I guess you'll never know now," I said, reaching for the doorknob. "But I'm done talking to you. I've already given you more of my time than I should've."

"You'll fuck it up again," he spat. "You're going to break her heart all over."

Before I could reply, Potter grabbed my arm, simultaneously stopping me from opening the door and silencing me.

"Zabini, if you think what you did didn't break her heart, you're wrong. You were her best friend before you ever got involved," Potter said, disgust clear in his voice. "All three of us have failed her over and over again, but you're the only one who intentionally set out to hurt her."

Much to my surprise, Blaise looked ashamed, his features twisting with guilt.

"I'll escort you out," he added, gesturing for me to open the door.

Before I did, I said, "Don't bother contacting me ever again, Zabini."

As I walked out of the conference room, I felt his eyes on my back. There was so much more I wanted to say, but I knew none of it would matter to him. I'd simply be lashing out about the past.

Opening the door to my office, I took a deep breath and stepped inside, determined to stay focused on the future from now on.

First and foremost, I had to figure out how to tell Hermione that I'd punched Blaise in the face without provocation.

Hermione - 23rd-24th July 2007

After a gruelling day of trying to find a true magical identifier on the Horcrux, I'd gone out to dinner with a few colleagues, savouring another serving of the delicious paella I'd found at a local restaurant. Since it was nearing eight, I felt exhausted; I'd been awake early for my appointment with Penelope. We'd talked through my Thursday night tryst with Draco, and that hadn't gone smoothly. She was worried about me losing myself in the physical relationship again — the way I had the first time around and then again with Blaise — but I assured her I was more cognizant of it now.

And I felt I truly was; if I'd really wanted to just sink down into the hazy lust of reconciliation, I wouldn't have taken this assignment in Barcelona.

Setting my bag down, I pulled out the two-way journal and left my mobile buried under everything else. When I opened the cover, I saw that he still hadn't responded to my earlier message. It was unusual that I hadn't heard from him this evening; he'd been home from work for hours.

I rifled through the contents of my bag until I found a stray self-inking quill and hesitated for just a moment before shrugging it off. I could write to him first. It didn't matter anymore; this wasn't a clandestine relationship.

Finally home for the night. I was busy pretty much nonstop today. How was your day?

Rather than staring at the page and waiting for his response, I walked down the hallway and into the bathroom, turning on the tub tap to run a hot bath. I added a bit of bubble bath and smiled as the citrusy scent immediately filled the air.

Staring into the depths of the mirror, I freed my hair from the twist I'd worn it in and raked my fingers through the tangled curls. With a murmured spell, my face was free of makeup. I walked into the bedroom to retrieve my dressing gown and the book I'd been reading. Quickly, I toed off my shoes and removed my work robes, along with the tailored trousers and shirt I'd worn beneath them.

Down to my knickers and bra, I wrapped the dressing gown around myself and went into the bathroom to shut off the water. I couldn't resist checking for Draco's response one more time before sinking into the tub. Looking down at the journal, I saw a short reply.

Sorry — really busy today. I ended up taking Scorpius for the evening so Astoria could get some rest.

I wanted to ask what else he'd been wrapped up in today, but I didn't want to seem too nosy. Communicating back and forth in the journals was convenient, but not always the easiest; it was hard to get a read on how he was truly feeling.

No need to apologise. Just wanted to check in with you. Anything you wanted to talk about? I'm going to be slipping into the bath in a few minutes, but I'm here if you need me.

Even though I knew it was silly, I carried the journal with me into the bathroom, setting it a safe distance away from the water. Using a clip, I piled my hair loosely on top of my head so it wouldn't get wet. Fully disrobed, I stepped into the tub, hissing at the heat of the water against my skin. I muttered a cooling charm to lower the temperature a few degrees and then sank beneath the bubbles, summoned my book, and leaned back to read.

As I turned the pages and tried to unwind, I couldn't help but look at the journal, frustrated that he hadn't yet replied. Waiting for him to answer felt eerily similar to waiting around my house for him, even if the circumstances were much different now than they were back then. I reminded myself that he had Scorpius and was likely dealing with bedtime or bringing him back to Astoria's for the night. Or making his way through his own nightly routine. Or had maybe even fallen asleep.

I'd see him tomorrow morning, and it wasn't a big deal. Everyone had busy nights or nights where they didn't really want to talk to anyone.

Forcing myself to focus on the book again, I closed off the section of my mind that was worrying about Draco. I knew I would need to work on shaking off this anxious feeling eventually, so I decided to start today.

By the time I got out of the tub, my feet were pruned and I felt much more relaxed. The main characters in my book were getting closer and closer to their happily ever after, and I'd thoroughly enjoyed following their journey. I towelled myself off and slipped the dressing gown back on, tying it at the waist.

With trepidation, I picked the journal up again.

I'm going to be calling it an early night. There's not much I want to talk about until I see you tomorrow morning. I'll tell you about my eventful day then.

His response made my anxious brain start whirring and overthinking everything. I wanted to know what had made his day eventful now , not tomorrow. Even if it was less than twelve hours away, I didn't think I could wait to find out.

Walking back out to the main living area, I grabbed the same quill I'd used earlier and held it just above the page. Before I could convince myself it was a bad idea, I started to scrawl a reply.

Are you sure you're okay? I can run to the Ministry and Floo over like I did on Thursday if you need me.

Just in case he wanted me to, I quickly changed into a set of black pyjama bottoms and my old, comfortable Gryffindor t-shirt. The one he'd always loved to tease me about. With a quick glance in the mirror, I adjusted my hair so it looked intentionally messy and brushed my teeth.

I heard my mobile dinging in my bag, signalling that someone else was trying to reach me, but I ignored it when I saw that Draco had written back.

I'm okay. I have Scorp here tonight. Please don't come all this way. I'll see you first thing tomorrow.

My stomach sank like a stone in water, plummeting all the way to the floor. I'd expected him to say yes, that he wanted me to come home and spend the night with him again.

And there was no I miss you or I love you, Granger.

Draco had quickly reverted to telling me that he loved me every day, and I'd apparently started to expect it. To need it again.

I didn't let myself respond again.

Instead, I turned out all the lights, left the journal on my table, and nestled down in my bed. Reaching for one of the pillows I wasn't using, I hugged it to my front, wrapping my arms around it the way I wanted to wrap them around Draco.

Once again, I found myself praying for sleep that I knew wouldn't come.

Just as I'd expected, Draco's half-answers had kept me up most of the night, tossing and turning as I tried to figure out what could possibly be bothering him. Around five in the morning, I gave up on sleep and got out of bed, settling myself on the floor of my flat to stretch and try to clear my head.

While I wasn't normally one for exercise, Penelope had suggested trying some basic yoga poses and meditation if I felt anxious. I closed my eyes and moderated my breathing, slowly working through the stretches I could recall from memory.

However, I couldn't quiet my thoughts of Draco.

Why did he seem so standoffish last night?

Was he just busy? Or was he angry with me?

What could I possibly have done from hundreds of miles away?

And, as I was obsessing over why Draco wasn't really speaking to me, I started to feel guilty because I'd been completely avoiding Harry's calls and text messages since Friday morning. Even though I'd been at the Ministry an hour before he should've been, I'd bumped into him in the lobby and hadn't really stopped to explain why I was in England. I didn't want to tell him that I'd stayed the night with Draco so I brushed it off, telling him we'd talk later.

And then I'd completely ignored him for three whole days.

I knew it was wrong, but I needed time to think it through on my own before I talked to anyone else about it. I wasn't ashamed; it was just complicated, especially with Pansy and Draco's rekindled friendship.

Honestly, I'd wanted to keep what I felt inside for a little while. I'd barely even had a chance to breathe, let alone process the implications of everything we'd said on Thursday night and Friday morning.

I'd told Draco I loved him. The sex was secondary to that, of course, but I didn't feel like I could talk about one without bringing up the other.

As I moved into child's pose, I silently acknowledged that I was being extremely hypocritical, trying to find fault with Draco for not being an open book when I wasn't, either. It was wrong of me to expect him to share every detail of his life with me every single day when I wasn't able to do the same with anyone in my life.

I felt the stretch in my back, in my arms, and took a deep breath.

I'd made progress over the last month or so, but I still had a lot of work to do on myself. I couldn't remain partially closed off while expecting more of those around me.

However, I didn't know if I had to keep to myself — stay out of a relationship — while I continued tackling my issues.

Would it be better for me to work through my issues with Draco by my side? Or should I wait?

As I moved back to Hero position, my arse resting on my heels and my arms extended behind my back, I opened my eyes and stared blankly at the wall in front of me, searching for answers that it could never provide. And then I remembered being in a similar position on Thursday night, Draco behind me, inside of me, his arms wrapped around me.

That night, everything had seemed so clear. Something deep inside had unlocked and unfurled, making me open up and be honest with him in a way I hadn't been able to since before I'd Obliviated him.

When I stopped holding back, I was able to say what was on my mind. I'd always chalked it up to a negative — we were only fully emotionally open when we were intimate or immediately after — but could we turn it into a strength? Under the right circumstances, I thought we might be able to.

After he'd told me Astoria was pregnant, I just assumed he'd been lying to me all along while we were in the throes of passion, but now I knew differently. Those were the times that he'd been honest about everything.

Forcing myself to rise, I moved into Warrior and held it for a count of thirty, trying to focus on the numbers and my breathing, rather than on Draco. As usual, it was harder than expected.

Silently, I wished that I'd had these thoughts yesterday so I could have discussed them with Penelope on my own. I couldn't very well talk it all through in front of Draco; I knew he'd be in favour of closing the distance between us, even if Penelope didn't agree.

Shifting into Triangle, I felt more distracted. My mind focused on balance and I thought that might be an apt compromise.

Balance.

I could be with Draco, see him almost every day, without rushing into the kind of relationship we'd had before. We didn't have to spend every night together, limbs tangled and sweating through sheets.

We could talk about everything, get to know each other again. Especially if he didn't want to watch the rest of the memories on his own.

Flowing into Triangle on my opposite side, I had another thought.

We could date. Openly and properly. A new beginning where we integrated each other into our daily lives bit by bit, even if it meant subjecting ourselves to scrutiny. I was certain that Harry and Pansy would be at our sides and, if I wasn't mistaken, Ron might even be supportive, too. Despite all his protests over Slytherin boyfriends, I thought he might be okay if I rekindled a relationship with Draco and was finally happy.

As I rose into Mountain and breathed deeply, I could picture Scorpius running around with all the kids in the garden at Grimmauld Place or in the grass at my house. Scorpius was the biggest part of Draco's life now, and I could see him in my world too.

Draco had made it clear to me that he'd been isolated, interacting with no one but family until he'd come back to work, and I knew I wasn't ready — might never be ready — to let Lucius and Narcissa into my life.

Luckily, Draco wasn't expecting me to accept his parents unless I wanted to.

Even if that part of his life stayed separate, we could try to find normality and a routine in all other aspects. There was no rush; we could just live day-by-day and figure things out slowly.

We could take our time since there were no obstacles this time around.

Just as I was getting ready to step through my Floo, my mobile pinged with a text message. I dug it out of my handbag, already suspecting it was from Harry or Ron. When I flipped the phone open, my suspicions were confirmed.

Why aren't you answering me? I'm starting to get worried. If I don't see or hear from you today, I will abuse my position and fame and find out where you are.

Apparently going the whole weekend and all of Monday without a word from me was trying Harry's patience.

Sighing, I put the mobile back in my bag and grabbed Floo powder, tossing it in to make the journey. When I stepped out at Grimmauld Place, he was already there, waiting for me at the kitchen table. He glared.

"Glad to see you're alive and well."

I settled a hand on my hip and glared back at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He only raised an eyebrow.

"Look, I'm not going to apologise for taking some time to myself," I stated. "Yes, I came to England Thursday night. Yes, I spent the night with Draco, and I'm not sorry about it."

Harry didn't look surprised. "Do you think I would've cared? I was just worried that you were trying to cut us all off again, Hermione."

"I didn't want to talk about it."

Holding his hands up defensively, he said, "We don't have to talk about it."

"Good." I walked over and sat beside him at the table, reaching for the teapot in the centre of the table. "How was your weekend?"

"Good. We took the kids to Diagon Alley and walked around a bit. Went to Sunday dinner at the Burrow. Nothing major."

I nodded. "I bought your birthday gift."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I've told you for years—"

"And I've never listened." I took a sip of my tea to quell the mild queasiness that international Floo travel always caused. "I've always gotten you a gift, and that will never change."

The sound of toddler feet on the stairs drew my attention and James ran into the kitchen, full of energy after a full night's sleep. He clamoured over to the table and climbed into my lap, throwing his arms around my neck.

"Hey, James."

I hugged him close, happy to see him again, and he started chattering about all the things he'd done since last week. Harry smiled at us from the other side of the table, sipping his morning tea.

A few minutes later, Pansy came into the kitchen with Sev on her hip.

"Morning. Nice to see you, Granger," she grumbled. "I see James is filling you in on everything already."

Her hair hadn't been brushed yet and her oversized jumper was slipping off one shoulder.

Nodding in response, I kept my attention focused on my godson until Harry interrupted him.

"James, why don't you sit in your seat and we'll get you some breakfast? Aunt Hermione might want to eat something before her appointment."

He didn't protest.

Pansy put a bowl of cereal in front of James and carried over a plate of pastries for the adults to share. Harry immediately reached for something coated in chocolate and I looked over the options, settling on a cinnamon bun.

"How much longer are you away?" Pansy asked as she got Sev settled with breakfast, too.

I shrugged. "It depends on how things go at the Ministry this week, but hopefully I'll be coming back for good late this week or early next."

"How has the time away been?"

Tapping my fingernails on the side of the mug, I thought for a moment. "It's been good, I think. I've been okay being on my own, and it's been good to have some distance from everything and focus on work. It felt good to really use my brain again."

"You're always using your brain," Harry teased. "It's always thinking about one thing or another."

"You know what I mean," I answered, rolling my eyes. "I needed to focus on something that wasn't my love life for a little bit."

Pansy snorted. "I'm glad you were away when Blaise came back."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"I hadn't gotten there yet," Harry said. "But I guess now is as good a time as any."

Pansy looked slightly apologetic, but I felt both my anger and trepidation building.

"What happened?" I asked.

After taking a deep breath, Harry started to speak. "Blaise is staying in Italy. He came back to officially resign and turn in his Auror credentials yesterday, and we were talking outside of my office, and then Draco walked out of your office—" he shook his head "—his office. Blaise made a beeline for him."

I repeated the same question. "What happened?"

"Malfoy punched him in the jaw."

"He what? "

Pansy averted her eyes, clearly understanding that I hadn't known about this altercation at all.

"Draco punched him. He didn't even wait for Blaise to say anything. He just hit him." Harry sighed. "Blaise thought Draco had done something to make you leave."

I felt genuinely confused. "How did Blaise know I was gone?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Hermione. He went straight for Malfoy instead of talking to me," he replied, shaking his head. "I broke it up and sent Malfoy back into his office to cool off before I tended to Blaise's mouth."

"He hit him that hard?" I asked, surprised.

Harry nodded. "There's something else I need to tell you." He seemed nervous, which made me even more nervous. After taking a deep breath, he met my eyes and said, "I inadvertently told Malfoy about the ring because I told him I gave it back to Blaise."

My stomach churned with nerves and I was sure the colour drained from my face. "And how did he react?"

"He thought you and Blaise had been engaged. I completely blindsided him," Harry said, letting out a sigh. "I felt horrible, Hermione. I had to explain that it wasn't what he thought it was."

"You told him everything, didn't you? What Blaise's letter said?"

"I did, but only because I thought he knew most of it already."

"We honestly haven't talked about Blaise much, aside from when he's been present in the memories." I pressed my fingers into my temples. "That's why he said we'd talk today when I tried to figure out what was wrong last night. His answers were very stunted."

"I guess it's not really the kind of thing you'd write notes back and forth about," Pansy said, taking a sip of her coffee. "He probably figured it would be better to discuss it in person."

Even though her reasoning made sense, I was still a little frustrated that Draco hadn't wanted to talk things through with me last night.

"So what happened after you told Draco about the letter?" I asked.

He sighed again but ultimately relayed the rest of the altercation to me.

By the end of it all, I felt furious.

"Why would you let them try to talk, Harry?"

His cheeks reddened. "I guess because I hate seeing friendships end. I remembered what it was like when you and I weren't speaking, and Malfoy and Blaise have been friends just as long as we have, if not longer."

"Did you honestly think that Draco would just let everything go?" Pansy asked, her eyebrow raised.

"It was stupid, I know." Harry set a hand on her thigh. "It just—Everything got so messy, and I know you're friends with both of them, and they both love Hermione—"

"Which is exactly why it will never be fixed. Draco is never going to see Blaise as anything but a backstabber who stole the love of his life away," Pansy replied bluntly. "It doesn't matter that they're back together now. He won't forgive what Blaise did, and Blaise couldn't forget that Granger loved Draco first. He left to protect himself, and I'm not saying it was right, but I understand self-preservation."

I did, too.

I'd left Draco and Obliviated him partly because I couldn't take the strain of the affair anymore. I'd wanted to leave him before he left me since I'd felt certain he was never going to end things with Astoria.

"Draco still shouldn't have hit him," I fumed.

Pansy shrugged. "I'm not surprised that he lost control when he saw him. He's been angry for weeks."

Harry quickly jumped in. "I reminded Draco that he has you, and he didn't hit Blaise again."

"I'm not a possession to be fought over, Harry!" I hissed, the memory of Blaise's caveman-like behaviour fuelling me. "Draco's a grown man. He can't go punching people in the DMLE!"

"I know that," he replied, holding his hands up in surrender. "But don't you think this could be construed as extenuating circumstances?"

I wasn't feeling any more rational than Draco had yesterday.

"No. The circumstances don't matter," I answered petulantly, rising from the table. "If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment and a lot to say to my…"

"Boyfriend?" Harry offered.

"Soulmate?" Pansy chimed in.

"To the idiot who apparently needs to work on his anger management skills."

When I walked into Penelope's office a few minutes late, Draco was standing near the window, looking out onto the busy London street. I could almost feel his anxious energy.

"Good morning, Hermione," Penelope said, smiling at me.

Draco didn't turn around.

"Good morning," I responded. "Sorry I'm late. Harry was telling me about something that happened at the office yesterday."

I saw his shoulders stiffen in realisation.

"Oh? Anything you want to talk about?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Draco, are you planning on joining us?"

Finally, he turned, walking towards me and sitting at the opposite end of the couch. Penelope was watching us carefully and the distance he'd placed between us was not lost on her.

Clearing my throat, I jumped right into it. "Apparently Blaise was back in town, and Draco felt the need to punch him."

"Is that true?" Penelope asked.

"It is. I lost my temper."

"Lost your temper?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Harry said you saw him and that was it. You punched him with no provocation!"

"That's not entirely true," he replied petulantly. "As soon as Blaise saw me, he started marching over. I thought he was going to hit me, so I hit him first."

"Very mature, Draco. You consider walking a provocation now?"

"I think everything I've seen in the memories is provocation enough, don't you?"

Before I could answer, Penelope interjected. "Let's just take a few steps back." She paused, looking between us. "Have the two of you ever talked about Blaise?"

Draco deferred to me. I took a deep breath and said, "A bit. Not in depth."

Penelope nodded. "Don't you think you should? He was a big part of both your lives."

"I suppose," I admitted. "With the way things ended, I just couldn't at the time. Draco and I were barely even speaking, other than watching memories."

"Well, I think Draco's reaction to Blaise's reappearance creates the perfect opportunity for the two of you to have a conversation about him."

Neither of us said anything. Honestly, I didn't want to talk about my relationship with Blaise. It felt like it had happened so long ago now.

Trying to facilitate the discussion, Penelope looked to Draco. "You seem angry today. Is there something bothering you?"

He scoffed. "Of course I'm angry. She neglected to mention that he gave her an engagement ring—"

Heat rose into my cheeks, turning them an angry shade of pink, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. I interrupted him before he could say more. "And did Harry happen to tell you Blaise gave it to me just to hurt me, not out of love?"

My voice cracked with emotion, and Draco looked over at me, his expression instantly turning guilty. "That's not what—"

"Can you even begin to fathom what that felt like for me?" I continued, dashing the tears. "To have him call me broken? To leave an engagement ring behind simply to make me feel worse?"

"Will you let me finish what I was trying to say?" he asked, but I just kept going.

"I thought he loved me!"

"Is that what you wanted?" Draco snapped. "For Blaise to love you?"

"Of course that was what I wanted!" I shrieked, losing control of my emotions. "I wanted someone to love me and put me first!"

Draco looked like I'd slapped him.

"Alright," Penelope said gently. "Let's take a few seconds to collect ourselves. Hermione, I think you need to hear Draco out. You interrupted him before he could finish what he was saying."

I covered my face with my hands and shook my head. I hadn't meant to throw that in his face, but something inside of me had snapped. All the calm I'd found this morning had vanished, leaving me feeling more emotionally raw and vulnerable than I had before. The lack of sleep coupled with the memory of Blaise's harsh letter had set me on edge.

"Hermione," Draco said cautiously, settling his hand on my knee. "After I brought up the engagement ring, I was going to say that you also hadn't told me what Blaise wrote to you in that letter."

A sob escaped my lips. "We weren't really talking at that point, and I… I didn't want you to know!"

He stroked his thumb against my leg, trying to comfort me. While his touch soothed, I wanted to pull away, to hide and collect myself again.

"Why?" Penelope asked, inserting herself into the conversation.

"Because what if he was right?" My emotional outburst wouldn't subside. "What if he was right and I am broken? Why would you want to even try—"

"Why would I want to try?" Draco asked, pulling his hand away. "Oh, I don't know, Hermione. Maybe because I've been in love with you for half my life?"

Even though I knew he was telling the truth, I had voiced my biggest fear — that Blaise was right, that I was too broken and Draco would realise it and leave me on my own again.

Penelope looked at me. "Let's go back to the beginning of your relationship with Blaise. I think we need to give Draco an idea of how you felt."

Draco shook his head. "It's not necessary for Hermione to go through all those emotions. I've read her journals from that time. I know how conflicted she was and how things started for them. I know that she wanted or, fuck, needed to move on from the mess I'd made."

A small bit of warmth bloomed in my chest. Even if Draco was angry with me, he was still trying to protect me.

"The mess we'd made," I corrected, bracing my elbows on my knees and hunching forward, tangling my fingers in my hair. "I was an active participant in all of it, too."

With a sound of assent, Penelope said, "Yes, that's true. How did her relationship with Blaise make you feel? Before you knew about the Obliviation?"

"Jealous," Draco admitted. "Angry. I hadn't ever really been able to understand how they ended up together and why Blaise hadn't been there for me after the accident. He was supposed to be my best mate, and he just disappeared at the same time my memories did and took up with the girl I'd always loved. I couldn't remember what I'd done to upset him."

I felt a wave of guilt rise up inside of me. It hadn't been intentional, but Blaise's friendship was yet another thing I'd taken from Draco. I bit down on my cheek, holding back the apologies I wanted to make.

"I'm sure that was hard for you," Penelope prompted, trying to get him to open up further.

"It was. There were already so many things that felt off to me, and Blaise's distance only confused me more. I thought I'd just fallen into married life and we'd grown apart," he said with a shrug. "I figured it happened to everyone."

Deep down, I knew I should be participating, but I knew so little of how he'd felt after he first woke up that I wanted to hear more. It was a morbid curiosity — the more I knew, the worse I felt, but I couldn't help wondering.

"And it does," she replied. "That's a natural assumption to make. Did you ask Astoria or your parents for details?"

"They only said that we'd grown apart. My parents invited him to the Manor for my birthday, but he didn't really say much, though I can remember Pansy bringing Hermione up and Blaise singing her praises."

Shocked, my head snapped up and I blurted, "They talked about me in front of you?"

"I think Pansy was trying to goad Astoria, to be honest. The first thing I can remember her saying was that you would be the best mum someday. And then Blaise said you'd gone through a bad breakup with some wanker who didn't realise what he'd had," he added, his expression darkening. "Obviously that was me."

Clenching my fists, I stood up and walked to the window. My friends had been testing the water, clearly trying to see if Draco remembered anything. After everything I'd done to erase the past from his memory, it infuriated me, my guilt quickly shifting to anger.

Pansy and Blaise had played a dangerous game that could've undone my careful memory removal, and Lucius and Astoria had let them. Part of me was sad that it hadn't; less than a year's time lost would have been easier to contend with than nearly two.

And then, as I thought about what Pansy had said, my mind focused on one phrase — you would be the best mum one day — and my world immediately sped up and then came to a screeching halt. I anxiously looked around the room, trying to find a calendar. With everything that had been going on, I'd lost track of time. Seeing one hanging behind Penelope's desk, my stomach turned again.

It was the 24th. I'd missed taking my monthly contraceptive potion.

I always took it on the nineteenth, the same day as my birthday, and I'd had unprotected sex with Draco last week. On the eighteenth or nineteenth, depending on timing. Since I never really got a monthly, I wasn't sure where my conception window would fall.

And then I remembered how many times I'd felt dizzy or nauseous over the past week, even if it would be outrageously soon for symptoms to appear.

This wasn't happening to me.

It couldn't be happening to me.

"Hermione," Penelope said, drawing my attention, "what are you thinking about? You seem like you're somewhere else today."

"I have to go," I responded instinctively, smoothing my hands over my skirt. "I can't do this right now."

"What?" Draco rose and stood directly in front of me. "What's going on, Hermione?"

Rather than being reasonable and admitting what was happening inside my head, I pushed his buttons. "I can't listen to you talk about Blaise and everything he did to slight you. You should've been the bigger person since you and I are together now, but instead, you decided to hit him."

Penelope looked at me with concern, knowing something else was off and I was trying to avoid the conversation we were having. "Is there anything else going on?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm just furious."

"You're not furious," Draco said. "You're panicking about something. I saw the way you were looking around the room."

"Oh? And how, exactly, do you know what's going on in my mind?"

His exasperation broke through his careful control. "Because I know you, Hermione. If you were angry, this would be a very different conversation. You'd want to stay and talk it out."

"Apparently you don't. I am furious. I had to deal with Blaise's jealousy when you came back to work and, what, you're just going to punch him whenever we run into him?"

I was picking a fight, and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't tell him the truth. I just couldn't, not until I knew for sure. And I needed to figure it out as soon as possible.

"Hermione, why don't you sit down? We're not done here yet, and I really think the two of you need to talk—"

"I'm sorry, but I can't right now," I interrupted Penelope and started walking towards the door. "It's too much."

Draco stepped into my path and grabbed my arm. "What's making you run?"

When I looked up into his eyes, I could see my panic reflected back at me. He truly didn't know what he'd done wrong, and I was being so unfair right now. If I was pregnant, it would affect both our lives, not only mine.

But I needed time to figure it out and come to terms with it before I spoke to him if I was.

"I need some space. I should've cancelled after I talked to Harry. I was too angry—"

"Stop lying to me," he said, squeezing my arm to make me look up at him. "You wanted me to come here with you, I'm here. I'm willing to talk it all through. Why aren't you?"

Pulling my arm free, I felt traitorous tears welling in my eyes as my mouth moved and no sound came out. He didn't look away or say anything else; he simply waited for me.

"I just—I need to do something. I'm sorry."

"What is more important than this?" Draco asked, gesturing between us. "You told me you loved me last week, Granger. What's changed since then?"

Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. But I need to figure it out now.

If I was pregnant, how would he react? How was this any different from what Astoria had done to him?

Oh, gods, I would be trapping him all over again.

Penelope cleared her throat. "Hermione, are you certain you want to go right now?"

I nodded. "I have to."

"Draco," she began, trying to pull his attention away from me. "I think it would be best if you both took some space right now. Hermione is clearly not in the mindset to talk today."

He ran a hand through his fringe, mussing his hair up, and I knew how hard this was on him. I couldn't walk away without reassuring him.

"I do love you. That hasn't changed," I said quietly, settling my hand on his forearm. "I just—I need to figure something out, and I need to do it on my own."

"We're supposed to be figuring everything out together this time," he replied, pulling away from me and putting space between us once more. "You're shutting me out, the same way you did before."

"I'm not running. Not really. Please trust me."

I expected him to throw our past back in my face again, to say something along the lines of 'why should I, Granger?'

But he didn't.

Instead, he gave me a curt nod and said, "Fine. Do what you have to do, and I'll be here when you're ready to let me in again."

My heart squeezed and I almost relented, broke down, and told him why I was leaving.

Instead, I threw my arms around him, trying to silence the doubts I knew were likely coursing through his mind. As I hugged him tightly, I buried my face in his shoulder, letting my tears flow. One of his hands stroked up and down my spine, trying to comfort me.

When we let go, I gave him a weak smile and walked out the door, shutting it tight before I sped up, running home to figure out how I'd made such a huge mistake.