All of her days were bleeding together.

Every day, Hermione and Draco would find themselves in a compromising position, and she was sure that he'd remember it the following day. But, each morning she'd walk into the ward to find him sneering in her direction and absolutely certain he was in his last year of Hogwarts. Worse, she was no closer to figuring out the cure for his amnesia and Harry hadn't been able to find the culprit behind it. It seemed that all was lost, and that Draco would be doomed to relive his final year at Hogwarts—never growing past the snarky, angry boy he'd been at the start of term.

It was a week after Draco had been admitted to the ward when Hermione thought they'd had a breakthrough. She walked in after a fitful night's sleep to find him sitting up in bed watching the double doors as she entered. There was no sneer on his face, but rather a curious pull to his eyes and a slight tremor at the corners of his lips—nearly a smile but more reserved.

"You look well today," she said, approaching with her wand drawn to take his morning vitals. He sat still and allowed her to cast the diagnostics, eyes intently following her every move. "Can I ask you some questions while I work?"

He nodded his head, a quick duck of the chin.

"Do you know where you are?" Prodding at the smoke that hovered above Draco's head, Hermione dipped her gaze to his and then back again.

Draco's tone was clipped. "Looks like St. Mungo's."

Hermione beamed. It was a good sign, so good in fact that she ignored her spellwork in favor of sitting at his bedside in her usual chair. The diagnostics could wait; this was far too exciting. "And do you know why you're at St. Mungo's?"

His nostrils flared, chest rising and falling quickly as his eyes darted around her face. "I've had an accident."

Wetting her lips, trying not to let her face give anything away, Hermione tilted her head. "What type of accident did you have?"

Draco's voice dropped, heavy and uncertain. "Nervous breakdown, maybe? Stunner to the chest?"

Heart clenching, Hermoine breathed deeply and chewed on her bottom lip. "You were hit with some sort of curse; it's affecting your memory."

She watched the way his fists balled up at his sides, the fidgeting of his legs as he tried to rein in the anger he was obviously feeling. "Was it your precious Potter—is that why you're here? Making sure I don't die before you can cure me so that he'll get off with a detention?"

"Harry had nothing to do with it." He rolled his eyes, and Hermione sighed. "He brought you here, actually. He's trying to find the person who did this so that he can bring them to justice."

"Bring them to justice ." A scoff filled the space between them. "What's the worst that'll happen? Whoever did this will get detention and I'll be stuck here with you. I know who gets the worse end of this deal."

"You haven't had a problem the last week being 'stuck here with me'." Hermione's temper flared and her words were laced with venom; there was only so much of his snark she could take and after rubbish sleep and a week of failure, she'd had enough. "When you had your hand up my robes yesterday, for example. Or when we had sex in the supply cupboard. Or when you begged me to let you between my legs with your ton—"

"What the fuck , Granger!" Draco sprung from the bed, nearly knocking her over. Towering over her petite frame, his lips pulled back into a snarl. There was a heat in his eyes, a fiery shadow that threatened to consume her and sent her heart fluttering. His voice was but a whisper as he stepped even closer. "Lies. You're lying to me. I'd remember…"

Lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, Hermione matched his tone with furious tears in her eyes. "You wouldn't remember. You don't . No matter what I try, no matter what I do, you always forget me, forget everything ."

Just as she was about to take a step backward, Draco's hand closed over her shoulders and he ducked his chin down so that he was eye level with her. "You're serious." His fingers tightened over her tense muscles as her chin wobbled, nodding because words wouldn't come out. "We've…that's impossible. You hate me."

"I don't," she whimpered, wild curls falling over her face. "I haven't hated you in a long time, Draco. It's nineteen ninety nine—we finished Hogwarts months ago. And before we left, we…we were...something."

"Something." The word fell from his lips so softly, it was like a caress. "How did it happen—how did we…" He licked the corner of his lip. "How did my parents react to our...something."

"Oh no, we didn't…that is to say, we weren't…" Hermione searched for the words, but there was no proper way to say they hadn't even been friends, let alone more. A nervous laugh bubbled up to her lips. "It was just...sex."

The grip of his fingers tightened further into the knots in her muscles. He blinked twice, drew a steady breath, and then offered a small, lopsided smile. "Right then. You and I fucked multiple times, told no one, and weren't exclusive?"

She felt the color drain out of her face. "I…oh bugger, I was exclusive and now, well I suppose I have no idea if you were exclusive. I don't suppose you remember if you've ever been tested for sexually transmitted infections and—"

"Stop." His hands traveled from her shoulders to either side of her neck, a throaty chuckle deep in his throat. "I was exclusive, too."

"Do you remember?" Eyes round, excitement bubbling up in her stomach, Hermione began to move to grab her wand, but Draco held her in place.

"I don't remember, but I know there wouldn't have been anyone else." Gaze dipping to her lips, Draco moved closer still. He closed his eyes, words leaving him in a strained whisper. "Fuck, I wish I could remember."

Their lips were so close, barely enough room to fit a hair between them, when the doors to the ward burst open and the pair jumped apart. Healer Strout approached with loud, clicking heels and a tetchy, pinched face. Her voice carried through the ward, echoing off the walls and disturbing the other residents. Two figures followed closely behind, though they moved more slowly, more gracefully in her wake.

Healer Strout stood beside Hermione and flourished her arm out in a sweeping gesture towards Draco. "As you can see, Mister Malfoy is just fine in our care, Lady Malfoy."

Hermione's shoulders tensed and she sidestepped further away from Draco, dropping her eyes to the stone floor at her feet. She'd managed to avoid Draco's friends and family until that moment. "Mrs. Malfoy," she said quietly, cheeks painfully flushed as she bit into her lip. "Draco is doing well this afternoon. He's less agitated than he's been all week."

"I don't know that I'd say that's well for Draco," a familiar voice said, a light laugh lacing his soft words. "This git is agitated on his best days. Perhaps he needs to be cursed again, see if that can return him back to his old, exasperating self."

Hermione finally raised her eyes and they landed on the cool blue that were watching her closely. Theodore Nott's hands were shoved in his pockets and he appeared far too amused with the sight in front of him. She let a small smile slip across her lips, but still refused to meet Mrs. Malfoy's eyes.

"'Lo, Granger." Theo grinned; it crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Fancy seeing you here, of all the bedsides."

The hits just kept coming.

Following Theo and Mrs. Malfoy's arrival in the ward, Hermione was left alone in Draco and Theo's company while Healer Strout ushered Mrs. Malfoy to her private office to discuss the care plan for her son. The silence stretched on and on with no end in sight. Theo's eyes traveled between Hermione and Draco, who were intently avoiding eye contact with one another.

As if there were no tension whatsoever, Theo plopped himself down in Hermione's usual seat, crossed his legs, and settled back with his arms across his chest. "So this is the most extreme way that anyone has tried to get out of attending a commemorative ball they were dreading."

Despite her nerves, Hermione chuckled. "Even if he'd done this on purpose, he wouldn't remember it."

"Still sounds convenient," Theo said, turning his gaze slowly from Hermione to Draco's narrowed eyes. "Your mother wants to announce a donation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in your honor, and you go and get your memory removed. It's a PR nightmare."

"Why do you care about the marketing?" Draco asked, a slender, blond eyebrow raised over one eye.

Theo made a show of dusting his nails on his crisp, blue shirt. "If you'd bother to remember, you'd know that Blaise and I have a new start up, and your mother was kind enough to invest in our business." Glancing to Hermione, he gestured vaguely at Draco. "He calls himself my best mate. Look at him trying to destroy my future in one selfish move."

"That's hardly what I'm—"

"And to think," Theo seemed to take pride in interrupting Draco, in what Hermione surmised was a regular occurrence between the two based on the way Draco's mouth clamped shut and he rolled his eyes to the heavens. "All I've done since we left Hogwarts is intervene with his mother, ensuring her focus is on things like the finances and the Malfoy reputation. Least he could do is show up for the one event to which he was personally invited."

"Everyone was invited, though." Hermione's brows furrowed; she'd known Theo to be a bit of a character, always dramatic and drawing attention away from Draco when they were in a group of people at Hogwarts. Still, she couldn't work out why he was giving Draco such a hard time when he was clearly cursed. "If it's that big of a deal, you'll simply have to release a statement explaining why Draco won't be in attendance."

Theo's chin lifted as he stared at her, eyes surveying her closely as if he didn't know what to make of her input. He pointed a finger in her direction and shook it once as a grin split his lips. "Brilliant. Any chance you're looking for employment, Granger? We could use your brains in our organization."

Shaking her head and taking a deep breath, Hermione conjured a second seat beside Theo and deposited herself into it. "Afraid not," she told him, setting her sights on Draco who was looking vastly uncomfortable as his eyes darted between them. "A bit married to the idea of healing, and have a project to get on with. Of utmost importance for a commemorative ball, so I hear."

"Too right." Slapping his hands on top of his thighs, Theo addressed Draco again. "See, Draco. Granger here knows how to set her priorities."

Draco put his head in his hands and then raked them through his hair. "Merlin, I'll never recover with the pair of you around to drive me mad."

Rather than appearing properly admonished, Theo instead continued to smile as though nothing in the world could bother him. "You remember nothing of NEWT year then?" Draco shook his head, letting his hands fall to his sides again. "It's a shame you don't remember that lapdance Astoria put on."

Draco's eyes locked on Hermione, who felt her cheeks redden considerably. She tried to hide it, tried to will her face to return to its normal color, but there was nothing for it. Something roared inside of her at the thought of the petite blonde girl putting on a show for Draco, but it was none of her business, especially since they'd never said they were exclusive—even if Draco had subsequently claimed he'd not been seeing anyone else. Dropping her gaze from his, Hermione busied herself with straightening her robes and patting herself down for the enchanted quill she knew was hidden within an inner pocket.

"No recollection." Draco's deadpan tone tugged at her heart; despite the thought of Astoria Greengrass's arse in his lap, Hermione wished he'd remember if only so that he'd recall their stolen moments, too. "For the best—never did fancy her. Too proper for my taste; she's unwilling to have a little... adventure , if you know what I mean."

Her head snapped up and she found Draco staring at her, the corners of his lips twitching. Heat clawed up her neck. Hermione tugged at the collar of her robes and she cleared her throat before uselessly attempting to fight off the ridiculous smile threatening to overtake her lips.

"Oh, I know what you mean alright." Waggling his thick eyebrows, Theo nudged Hermione with his elbow. "Bet Granger likes an adventure, don't you love? Eh?"

"She's literally the least adventurous person I've ever met."

Relief rushed through Hermione, like a balm to a burn, as Harry's voice interrupted the torrid trajectory of the conversation. A hand clamped down on her shoulder and she looked up to see Harry standing there. Ducking down, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Hermione, how'd you get so lucky as to find yourself alone with these two?"

"Strout must have thought I'd need an adventure," Hermione said, earning a chuckle from Nott. But it was Draco that gave her pause as his eyes swept over her features and then to where Harry's hand rested on her shoulder. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

"When someone who's important to me sends me an owl, I answer." Though he spoke to Hermione, his eyes drifted towards Theo.

Perhaps he didn't want to speak in front of them, and was trying to give Hermione a hint. She stood quickly, avoiding Draco's gaze at all costs, and asked if Harry would like to accompany her to lunch while Theo and Draco had a catch up.

"Malfoy." Harry ducked his chin and placed his hand at Hermione's lower back. With pursed lips, he addressed Theo. There was a chill in his voice that hadn't been there before. "Nott."

As Harry led Hermione from the ward, she heard Theo's voice follow them out into the corridor. "Harry, pleasure as always."

Thank Merlin for Harry Potter.

When Hermione finally took a break from helping Draco through his memory recovery, she realized for the first time that she was shattered. To try so hard only to be set back to the beginning again and again had been draining. She was thankful when Harry had showed up at the hospital and she had a chance to have lunch, if only so that she could catch her breath and get her mind in order.

Harry grabbed them each a tray packed with sandwiches and horrible sugary fruit drinks that she wouldn't touch if her life depended on it. She thanked him anyway and watched as he devoured all of the food and offered her bites between his. Refusing, she simply picked at her sandwich until Harry had finished eating.

"So, we still don't know who did this to Malfoy." Harry crumpled his napkin and tossed it over the crumbs on his tray. "It's not Zacharias Smith, though. Cornered him outside the training room and he offered his wand for evaluation."

Hermione scoffed, pushing her tray away and folding her arms over her chest. "Well then, can't everyone submit their wands for evaluation?"

"Unfortunately, no." Grimacing, Harry shook his head and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Everyone's a bit sensitive about the reach of the Ministry after...everything. I requested from Kingsley to mandate a wand eval, but he had a bloody bullet-point list to refute every argument I made."

"Well, have you tried explaining that Draco was making amends and this spell will directly conflict with the Wizengamot's orders regarding his reparations to the—"

"Of course." Harry chuckled awkwardly and pushed the fringe off his forehead, messing it up even more than normal. She wanted to reach out and fix it, but refrained—only just. "Look, I'm still investigating, and I have some help from a reliable source. We'll figure this out."

"What reliable source?"

Harry's cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red and he looked anywhere but her. "It's not important. Let's say: someone with a vested interest in Draco's recovery."

Lifting a single brow, Hermione flicked her eyes over Harry's still-red face. "It's Theo Nott, isn't it?"

"It's not." She pinned him with a glare and Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright. It is. But don't say anything. He's an anonymous source."

"Is there nothing that Theo doesn't have his hands in?"

If possible, Harry's face burned brighter. "Definitely not."

Some days were better than others.

A few mornings after seeing his best friend and mother, Draco remembered things about his days in hospital more clearly. Hermione waltzed through the double doors, prepared for the typical volley of sarcasm between them, but instead was greeted with a lifted chin and a "Morning, Granger."

She scurried over to him and immediately began to cast her diagnostic in a flurry of movements over his head. "What do you remember? Are you in any pain? Where are you?"

Despite her rush of questions, Draco answered each one slowly, in a steady rhythm. "I'm at St. Mungo's due to a memory curse. There's no pain. And—" He wrapped his fingers around Hermione's wrist and yanked her forward so that she had no choice but to perch herself on the edge of his bed. She yipped, eyes widening in surprise. "I remember how jealous you were when Theo mentioned Astoria Greengrass giving me a lapdance."

"I was not jealous."

It did nothing to dissuade him, though. A smirk toyed with the edge of his lips, his clear grey eyes danced in a way that told Hermione he was pleased. "You were jealous," he whispered, drawing himself further into a sitting position so that his face was mere inches from hers. "But there's no need, Granger. I also remember that delicious thing you do with your fingers when you're—"

"Draco." Swatting his chest, she forced away the grin threatening to explode across her face. "This is my place of employment, I can't—"

"You can, and you have," he argued playfully, tracing his fingers along the skin of her arm until he reached her neck, and finally anchored them in her unruly hair. "We could now. Cast a Muffliato and you could be louder than you were in that cupboard."

She stared at him, body and mind at war. There he was, lying on a hospital bed with a curse affecting his memories, but he was still chatting her up as if he were perfectly healthy. It felt as if she would be taking advantage, but he seemed able and willing to give consent; he remembered what they'd done only days before. But still…part of her couldn't stop thinking what would happen if she walked into the ward tomorrow and he'd forgotten again.

"I don't think it's a good idea. I'm your healer—"

"Trainee."

"You're under my care," she clarified, aware of the sliver of space that still separated them. "I can't in good conscience take advantage."

Releasing a throaty chuckle, Draco leveraged his hold in the roots of her hair to tilt her chin up, staring intently at her. "Oh, Trainee Granger, I was mistaken before." Another smirk, the smarmy git. "I am in pain."

"You're not—"

"But what if I am, and you ignore it?" Draco was enjoying teasing her; she could see it reflected in his eyes.

Balling her hands into tiny fists against his bed, Hermione sighed. "And where, pray tell, is this pain, Draco?"

Of course she knew he was going to say something lewd, like in his pants.

But then he surprised her.

Tapping a finger against his soft bottom lip, he whispered, "Right here."

A beat passed between them in utter silence. Hermione flicked her eyes to his and the raw desire she found there crumbled whatever resolve remained. Leaning forward, she gently touched her lips to his. Before she could pull away, Draco's hand in her hair tightened its hold and he crushed his lips against hers with a light growl sending vibrations through her body. He slipped his tongue through her lips and angled her head to the side as he deepened their kiss.

He'd always been a brilliant kisser.

Attentive to the sounds and breaths she made, Draco used her reactions to his advantage and had her pressed against the mattress as she melted into the way his tongue stroked hers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the knowledge they were on display at her place of work, and only screened by a curtain around the bed, kept her on edge. Draco didn't seem to care, though, as he planted his hands on either side of her head and ground his growing erection against her robed thigh.

His mouth left her breathless as he trailed his lips along her jaw and to her throat, where he nipped the flushed skin and laved it with his tongue.

"Draco, we shouldn't—not here," she said, though her hands gripped his shoulders harder as he sucked her skin; she'd have a bruise there tomorrow. He always liked to mark her. Secretly, she liked it, too. "Strout could walk in any time. Anyone could walk in."

"Never stopped you before." His hot breath against her wet throat sent chills skittering down her spine. Teeth scraped against her sensitive skin as one of his hands cupped her clothed breast. "As a matter of fact, I think you came harder when worried we'd get caught in those alcoves."

It was true. A hitched breath stuttered her thoughts and Hermione pushed up on Draco's shoulder, forcing him to stop unfastening her robes. "Draco!" He groaned in response, hand still massaging her breast. "You remember last year!"

Flashes of memories flitted through her mind: hiked upon Draco's hips as he pressed her firmly against a wooden door, her leg hitched over his shoulder while she gazed down at Draco's face between her thighs, the longing looks they'd share across the Great Hall and the way he'd slip his tongue over his fork when she knew he was watching, the dirty little notes he'd pass her in class when they thought no one was looking.

The corner of his lip twitched, and Hermione positively beamed at him.

"It's a shame I ever forgot," he said, claiming her mouth and cutting off any excitement that would have left her lips. Kissing her hard, his fingers made quick work of the buttons on her robe and slid it aside to reveal more layers. "Fucking layers."

He gripped her shirt at the collar and ripped it down, popping the buttons off in all directions, and then pulled the cup of her bra down. He eyed her exposed breast for only a brief second before taking her nipple in his mouth and flicking his tongue over it. Hermione canted her hips, jerking them up against him, and elicited a delicious moan from the back of his throat. The sound vibrated against her breast, and coupled with the way his teeth snagged on her nipple, sent warm tingles to her belly.

A familiar, robotic voice tore Hermione out of her haze of pleasure.

" Trainee Granger, you have an owl at the front desk. Trainee Granger, you have an owl at the front desk."

"Bollocks," she whispered furiously, pushing her palms into his chest. Draco lifted himself so that she could scurry out from underneath him. Tightening her robe around her body and pulling her wand out, she began to reattach the buttons that had flown off. A prickling sensation caused the hairs at the nape of her neck to rise; she could feel Draco's eyes on her as she darted around the small space near his bed trying to find all the buttons.

"This isn't finished, Granger," Draco said, resting back against his pillows with his hands clasped behind his head.

"I'll be back." Flushed and unsatisfied, Hermione zipped from the ward and headed to the front desk.

She didn't return to his room until after he'd fallen asleep, and found peace sitting at Draco's bedside in silence. Unfurling the little bit of parchment for the hundredth time, Hermione read the words scrawled out in Harry's messy script.

All wands have been submitted for evaluation.

Relief flooded her, though as she watched Draco's eyelids flutter, she wondered if they would really need to know the spell that had caused the damage. He was doing so well today, and perhaps it wasn't as heinous as Healer Strout had suspected. Maybe all he needed was time. She stuffed the missive in her pocket and leaned forward, running her fingers through Draco's soft hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

"Please remember, Draco," she whispered, allowing hope to settle in her bones for the first time in days. "Just…please don't forget again."

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as Hermione continued stroking his hair and pleading with him to continue recovering. She begged, closing her eyes and asking every deity in existence to help him through this. Resting her head on the bed beside his hand, Hermione let her eyes droop closed and didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep.

"What are you doing?" Draco's tired, thick voice roused her from sleep.

Popping her head up from the bed, she met his gaze and smiled, stifling a yawn. "Sorry, I must have dozed off."

The way he looked at her lanced through her heart. No familiarity. No kindness. Just that heart wrenching sneer and tight, reserved eyes. "Do you make a habit of sneaking into my dorm and falling asleep next to my bed? Because I have to say, Granger, this is peculiar even for you."

Tears sprang unwittingly to her eyes. "You've forgotten again."

She didn't even wait for him to respond before leaving him—just turned from the ward and left without another word.

Hermione's stomach sat in her throat all through the night.

She dreaded her shift at St. Mungo's the next day, but dragged herself through the motions and stood outside the double doors of the ward for five minutes, trying to talk herself into walking through them. Before she could make up her mind, the doors swung open and she came face to face with Theo.

"Mooorning, Granger." His sing-song voice was almost as ridiculous as the massive smirk on his face. Holding out his hand, something small and black sat between his fingers. "Think this belongs to you."

Hermione plucked the little black circle from his fingers and brought it eye level to examine it. Heat flooded her cheeks as she realized it was a button from the shirt she'd worn under her robes the day before. Snapping her gaze to his, she found a dancing gleam in his eyes.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, quick and breathless, shoving the button into her robe pocket.

Theo merely grinned. "If you don't want anyone to know about your torrid affair with a patient, perhaps don't leave articles of clothing where anyone with two eyes can find them."

A thousand words were at the tip of her tongue; all laced with some level of defense, ignorance, and wit. Instead, she decided on silent protest. Shoving past him, Hermione approached Draco's bedside, aware that Theo was following her, unsure of which Draco would greet her. He was awake, hair falling into his eyes and dark blond stubble lining his jaw. His face gave away nothing.

"Good morning," she greeted him tentatively, brandishing her wand to begin her daily diagnostics. "Do you know where you are?"

A huffed laugh passed between them. "Hospital."

Pleased, but not altogether convinced he was aware of his current predicament, Hermione pressed further. "And do you know why you're here?"

"This twat," Draco shoved his thumb in Theo's direction, "says that I was struck with a memory curse because I was a pompous, pretentious prat at Auror Academy." Lips pinched, he glared over Hermione's shoulder where she assumed Theo stood. "This is clearly an elaborate joke, as I have no intention of becoming an Auror after NEWTs."

The smokey diagnostic over Draco's head revealed far less blue; fewer memories in the hippocampus than she'd seen since he arrived. Squaring her shoulders, Hermione sucked in a long, deep breath, and silently counted to five before responding.

"Right, Healer Strout will want to know of your progress, as I'm sure you'd like to return back to school to carry on with NEWT year." Each word that left her lips was heavy and forced, but she couldn't bring herself to go through another morning trying to convince Draco of who he'd grown to become, especially not with Theo present. "I'll alert her to the changes this morning—Nott, you'll monitor Draco until we return?"

Theo tilted his head, eyeing Hermione shrewdly as she pocketed her wand. "Ooookay." Pulling the chair next to Draco's bed towards himself, Theo plunked his body into it and waved Hermione away with a vague gesture of his hand. "You're not as fun today as you were before. Later, Granger."

Hermione stared at the back of his head for a solid minute, holding her tongue once again before deciding it wasn't worth it. She flicked her gaze to Draco and found him staring at her.

"Granger," he muttered, lips barely moving. "Thank you."

Offering him a terse nod, Hermione strode from the ward as quick as her feet would carry her and tried desperately to ignore the pang in her chest. At the rate they were going, and without a cure, Draco would lose far more than just his memories from the last year at Hogwarts.

Everything changed with one owl.

The spell is malicious. Evanesce Animus. Zacharias Smith in custody. The bastard has a shrine to you in his flat. Really fucking creepy. Counterspell sent to Mungo's. Lunch? - Harry

Hermione fidgeted in the canteen with a half-picked apart sandwich while Harry inhaled his food as if he'd never eaten before. "He submitted his wand for eval, but it was his old Hogwarts wand. Still held his magical signature, none of the questionable spellwork."

"How in Merlin's name did you find out it wasn't his current wand?" Hermione dropped the pretense she was eating and turned fully towards Harry, whose ears were so red she thought he might have a fever.

"It was Theo, actually." Wiping at his mouth with his sleeve, Harry then pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and grinned as if he couldn't help himself. "Was brilliant, really. He showed up at training one afternoon, claiming it was so he could have a ground-level view of the upcoming Aurors to give a bit of fluff to his marketing for the commemorative ball. And by the end of the afternoon, he'd spotted Smith's wand." With a laugh, he shook his head. "Ridiculous, really. A room full of future Aurors and it was a bloody punter who figured it out."

"An invested punter, though," Hermione said fondly, wondering when it was she'd last seen such a sincere smile on her best friend's face. "Theo and Draco are more like brothers than friends; a bit like us—practically related."

Harry hummed his agreement, nodding his head. "So, has Healer Strout administered the countercurse?"

Dropping her eyes to the demolished sandwich on her tray, Hermione chewed on the inside of her lip and shook her head. "Yes, but I couldn't bear to be in the ward. What if it doesn't work, or he forgets again? That curse has been eating at him; we might not be able to fully retrieve what he's lost and forming new memories could be…Merlin, I'm going to be sacked from the program."

"You won't be sacked." Harry laughed, but Hermione sighed. "It's harder when it's someone you know—someone you're maybe fond of?"

"I'm not—"

"Trainee Granger to Healer Strout's office. Trainee Granger to Healer Strout's office."

She didn't want to cry, but tears welled up anyway. Turning from Harry and dabbing the corners of her eyes, Hermione sniffed and tried to steady her rapid breaths. As she rose from her seat, Harry grabbed her hand.

"You were invested in Malfoy's recovery." The tone wasn't accusatory, but he did flick his gaze between her eyes with a hefty amount of curiosity. "I'm sure it had everything to do with the natural fondness between healer and patient, though."

"Right." Her jaw clenched as she ducked her chin in agreement. "That, precisely."

It did, indeed, turn out to be that precisely.

She was updated on Malfoy's status and informed of his plan of care until discharge. Healer Strout was confident he remembered at least eighty percent of his last school year. A sea of conflicting emotions assailed her, and it was too much to bear knowing she would have to face Draco. To see what he would remember...or not.

Then to her utter amazement, Healer Strout informed her she was to have the next several days off, stating the dark bags under Hermione's eyes hadn't gone unnoticed. She was not to report back to St. Mungo's until after the commemorative ball, and that was a direct order.

Sagging with a confusing cocktail of relief and shame, Hermione went to gather her things before escaping to the safety of home.

"Gryffindor my arse," she muttered to herself as she climbed under her duvet and slept for a solid twelve hours.

The first annual commemorative ball was surprisingly beautiful.

Theo, as it turned out, had a keen eye for decor, and had planned such an epic event even Rita Skeeter had no negative comments as she strode through the crowd seeking statements from the attendees. Everyone must have been put off by the lurid pink cocktail robes she wore for the event. Horrid woman.

Hermione managed to avoid that particular pest throughout the evening, much to Harry's amusement. He kept asking her questions about Draco, but she'd simply avert her eyes and redirect the conversation towards how perfectly Theo had done with the details of the ball. The millisecond she mentioned how handsome Theo looked in his fitted tux, Harry suddenly found something far more interesting to discuss than Draco Malfoy's total recovery.

"Are you sure you don't want to dance?" Harry asked, standing up from their table. He fiddled with the sapphire-colored satin tablecloth as his eyes drifted around the room. She'd have to be entirely unobservant not to see where his gaze lingered. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here all alone."

"I'm fine, Harry. Go on. I'll be leaving as soon as it's appropriate to do so." Shooing him away with a wave of her hand, Hermione chuckled as a little smile curled his lips. "And for Merlin's sake, ask him to dance."

Whether he did or not, Hermione wasn't able to see because just after Harry left her, a tall and lean figure in a tailored, black suit approached and blocked her view. She grabbed the long-stemmed wine glass she'd been sipping from all night and lifted it to her lips.

"Granger." Draco towered over her, a smirk tugging at his lips as she swallowed deep pulls from her glass. "Last time I saw you drink like that, we ended up shagging on a balcony in Paris."

Wine slipped down the wrong side of her throat. Coughing and tearing up from the burn, Hermione struggled to catch her breath as Draco chuckled. He plucked the wine glass from her hand and deposited it on the table, then sat down in the nearest seat with his arm resting on the back of her chair.

"You know, there's a good chat-up line in here somewhere about me taking your breath away." Draco rested a hand between her shoulder blades and lightly thumped on her back.

Though it was painful, Hermione laughed; practically bloody snorted into her hand. "Don't." She coughed again, face beetroot red. "Please don't attempt a cheesy chat-up line."

That impossible smirk was back; Hermione could see it even through the stinging tears in her eyes. With a shrug, he leaned back in his chair. "Your loss, I'm afraid. It would have been a good one."

Hermione was certain he was telling the truth and he was itching to elaborate. Turning towards him, she fixed him with her best serious expression—pinched brows and all. "Go on then. Impress me with your flirting prowess."

He sat up in a flash, wound his hand under her seat and yanked her chair next to his. There was no space between them; thighs, hips, and shoulders touching. Then he placed his arm around her waist and pulled her in even closer. His fingers splayed over her hip. Goosebumps broke out along her arms as his warm breath blew against the shell of her ear.

"That tone—Merlin, how could I ever have forgotten how easy it is for you to drive me mad?" A throaty chuckle punctuated his words, but Hermione could focus on little outside of the heat coursing through her. "You reminded me, though, didn't you Granger?"

Swallowing around a dry patch in her throat, Hermione nodded. "I tried. It was too hard to walk away. I shouldn't have...it was inappropriate of me to exploit our past, but—"

"I'm trying to flirt here, Granger. That's difficult to do when you're apologizing at the same time. Give me time and I'll have you breathless again." Draco's teeth snagged on her earlobe and he laughed when she jolted at the feel of it. "Will you dance with me?"

"I don't think that's—"

Draco stood, and it was the first time she really allowed herself to see him. He was so different to the ragged mess she'd watched lie in hospital day in and day out. Clean shaven, trimmed hair, and pristine robes, Draco offered his hand to her with a gleam in his eye that clearly said he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"You still wear your signet ring," she commented, rather than rejecting him outright.

Eyes rolling to the ceiling, he sighed. "I'm still a Malfoy. Dance with me."

Her stare was trained on his ring, the way the dim golden light around them reflected off the emerald stone at its center. "I can't. Not after everything, not after the curse. I can't keep saying goodbye to you."

"So then don't say goodbye to me." Grabbing her hand and ignoring her protests, Draco dragged her to the massive dance floor. After he placed their hands in the proper places, he pulled her close. "I shouldn't have let you go after Hogwarts. This was still new and I didn't know what I wanted."

She arched a brow, skeptical. "But now you do?"

"I've never been more certain about anything in my life." Draco rested a hand on her cheek. His eyes darkened as he moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue. "Every time my memories came back, it was because of you. I've tried to be without you, Granger. But all my roads lead to you." Draco caressed her cheek with his thumb. "After everything, I just can't turn and walk away from you again."

"And your obligations?" she whispered against his lips, allowing her eyes to flutter before closing in anticipation of the kiss.

"Bollocks to them."

Draco's lips finally met hers and she sighed into the kiss, tightening her hold around his neck. Maybe they could make it work after all. Maybe everything they'd overcome was meant to bring them together in the end. Or maybe, all they had ever needed was proof that they were worth fighting for.

If they'd overcome a war, NEWTs, long distance, and a memory curse, then perhaps, just maybe, they could overcome the rest of it, too.

Bollocks to their obligations, indeed.