April 17, 1999
Hermione almost threw herself at him when he opened the door, but his polite, curious smile never changed, and she stayed where she was. She pressed her palms to her thighs to try hiding the shaking of her bones, but she felt moments from convulsing with nerves, panic, and suppressed emotion. She really hoped they hadn't seen her skulking about their house for two hours as she tried to calm down, and make sure both of them were home.
"Can I help you?"
Her smile was shaking too, and a film of tears were blinked away from her sight. "Hello, my name is Hermione. I was just, uh, admiring your garden, and I...I just moved in down the road, and thought I'd-"
"Wendell," he said, shaking her hand. "Come right in. You're from England?" He opened the door and stepped aside, his smile wider.
"I am, originally, yes." She smiled back at him as she stepped inside, and shrugged her coat off when he held out a hand. "Thank you."
"Would you like some tea?"
"Yes!" She cleared her throat. "Uh, yes, that would be lovely, thank you ever so much."
"Wonderful." He grinned as she toed her shoes off. "Let me introduce you to my wife."
She felt like she was going to hyperventilate as she followed her father into the living room, brushing down her shirt to make sure her wand was covered at her hip. It had taken her almost a year to find them, but even that long wasn't enough time to ever prepare herself for them not knowing her.
Not having any family members beyond an estranged grandmother had been perfect for when she needed her parents to not remember her, but it had only made it harder the past year. No one seemed to know where they had gone off to, and she was afraid to ask around too much, in case people tried to report them missing. They had lived off their savings for awhile, traveling all across Australia, before her father finally starting work at someone's dentistry practice. She didn't know how long she would have hopped back and forth across the country had they not settled down.
"Monica, this is Hermione. Hermione, Monica."
"Oh, Hermione - that is a lovely name!"
"Thank you, Mu-nica."
"She's just moved to Australia from England, and was admiring your work in the garden. I've invited her to tea."
"Please, sit down. Where in England are you from?" Her mother smiled at her as her father went to prepare the tea, but it wasn't the smile her mum usually aimed at her. There was little in the eyes. She'd seen her give more honest smiles to patients.
"Several different places. I've moved all over since I was a child. Spent some time in Scotland as well."
"Oh." Her mother nodded, and Hermione nodded back, rubbing her sweaty palms across her kneecaps.
The silence was suffocating. There were a million different things she wanted to tell her mother, and nothing she could think to say to Monica Wilkins. She just had to reverse the spell and fix their memories, but she had no idea when to do it now. She could wait until her father was back with the tea and excuse herself to the loo, but if it was opposite the couch, she wouldn't be able to sneak up on them. She could bind them, but memory charms were easier to reverse when the person was relaxed.
Maybe she could just sneak back in when they were sleeping. An unlocking spell would take care of the door, and she might be able to damage a security system enough to stop it from going off. She wasn't sure if she could perform it when they were in a different state of consciousness, though. She hadn't bothered to read and check. Why hadn't she bothered to check?
"I spent some time camping in the Forest of Dean, too. I-"
"My husband and I went camping there on several occasions! It's a beautiful place."
"It is. My parents brought me there a few times. Do you have any children?"
"No. I'm not entirely sure why, to be honest. We ran out of time, I suppose."
Hermione nodded, words pausing with her breath in her throat when there was a knock at the door. She turned her head towards the doorway, and sent a glance at her mother from the corner of her eye. The frustration was threatening a headache. She wanted to get this done now, and did not have the patience to wait for someone to leave after two years of waiting to do this.
"I'm not intruding, am I? I-"
"Not at all. It's probably one of Wendell's co-workers. He lives a few houses away and visits occasionally. Wendell's a dentist."
"Ah, I love dentists," Hermione said, and her mother's eyes widened. "Uh, they're very... I like clean teeth."
She laughed. "You just don't hear that very often. It's a pleasant surprise, I assure you."
"My parents are-" Hermione choked and then coughed when she looked over at the doorway, dread dropping like ice down her chest and stomach.
"Your housemate seemed to think you were kidnapped," her dad said. "He looked quite frantic at the door."
Hermione grabbed the wand at her hip, keeping her hand there, and flicked her gaze all over Malfoy to detect a wand or weapon. She didn't find anything there, but his very presence was threatening enough. She didn't know what he was doing there, but being there of all places was very, very bad. Her heart was racing, and she had to grab the end of the couch to keep herself from standing up while drawing her wand. Another memory charm on her parents could ruin everything.
Malfoy looked back at her blankly, as if he hadn't just swaggered into the living room of her parents', both of whom were still under fake identities. It had taken her a year to find them - exactly how long had he been looking? And for what? Had he followed her here? Was it some final chance plan for the Death Eaters the Ministry hadn't found yet?
"I don't know him."
"Hermione," Malfoy murmured, and anger built like a storm inside of her.
She glanced over at her mother, but she was looking at her father, their look speaking volumes through the silence. Hermione's smile was strained as she stood, and she fisted her free hand on her other hip to hide the grip on her wand.
"I was just joking. Give me a moment?" She didn't take her eyes off Malfoy. If he so much as lifted a hand from his side, she was going to send him through a wall.
"Of course."
She expected Malfoy to say something that would make them stay, or tell all the secrets he must have discovered, or give her that damnable smirk. Instead, he only turned, walking slowly enough for her to catch up to his back near the end of the hall. Hermione waited until they rounded the corner to the door, out of sight of the living room, and drew her wand.
Malfoy didn't even hesitate when the tip poked him in the back. He didn't even bother stiffening in fear, or glancing back at her, or anything an enemy should do when faced with the weapon of another enemy. He hadn't even paused when presenting his back to her.
"Do you have other people here?" she whispered harshly, digging her wand in harder as they stepped out of the doorway. Someone might curse her, but since she didn't see anyone around them, they would be far enough for her to ward the house first.
"No." As if he would admit to it.
He turned to face her as she shut the door a bit too loudly behind her, and his expression was still unreadable. Her wand was now pushing into his chest, and he didn't even twitch to move it away.
"You have three seconds to explain what you're doing here, before I curse you so badly-"
"You wouldn't believe anything I have to say."
"Try me," she breathed. "You dare come-"
"You have a memory charm on your parents that altered nineteen years worth of memories to make them forget you, and you alone."
She was only distantly aware of her mouth falling open, and something clicked in her throat. He took a step closer to her, the wand digging deeper. She didn't know where he could have learned that, as the only people to know were Harry and Ron, let alone that specifically.
"How do-"
"When you reverse the spell, you-" "Why are you
"You've had it on them for two years, but you know the spell is meant to be permanent. You know the longest length of time where it was properly reversed was less than a year, and-"
Hermione raised her wand to his throat, her breath coming faster as something churned in her stomach, tightening a grip on her insides. "I'm-"
"I'm here to help."
"That's a lie! You're Draco Malfoy, and if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you do nothing that doesn't help yourself, and it's always in ways that are very bad, wrong, evil, and destructive to me. I swear to-"
"I am helping myself by helping you!" he whispered fiercely, and suspicion narrowed her eyes. "Because you're a stubborn-headed bint, and I'm a fucking idiot for being-"
"That I'd agree with! Now tell me why you're-"
"If you'd let me speak for one minute, Hermione, you'd-"
Why was he calling her that? "You have one minute exactly, and if I'm not satisfied with-"
"Then shut up!"
Her head pulled back in surprise, but then she returned to glaring at him, staring down his own anger. He paused for several seconds, and then blew out a hard breath, turning abruptly away from her. He reached up to his hair, running a hand through it before yanking on the ends. "You're-"
"I want to help you so that when it works out for you, you'll help me. I'm not in favor within society at the moment, and no one trusts my name. But helping you would restore some of that."
"Helping me with what? And how did you find out-"
"I was told by someone, who heard from someone else-"
"I want names!"
"Well, you're not going to get them! Fuck! Do you realize how much simpler everything would be if you just did as I told you to do every time?"
"What?"
His eyes shut, and his chest swelled with the amount of oxygen he pulled in. "It's going to go wrong. There have been no cases where memories were reversed after a year, and it's for a reason."
He opened his eyes, and there was some unidentifiable emotion in them that made her hold her breath. She didn't know what the emotion was, but it wasn't evil, and no one had ever looked at her like that before.
"It's traumatic to the brain. It will ruin things. They won't remember you."
"You don't know that."
"I know that better than anyone living." His jaw clenched. "I've seen it happen." "Was it the-"
"It's the same spell."
"I never told anyone the spell, so you can't know that! You can't know any of this, unless Harry or Ron told a few people, who told a few people, and even then, what it was, what it does, where they are-"
"I know! I can't tell you how! I shouldn't even- It needs to be given to them right before or after the counter-spell is done!" "What needs-"
"The potion!"
"Potion?" Hermione stared at him in silence, waiting for him to start laughing, but he remained as severely serious as he had been. "You show up at my parents' house, attempt to help me so society stops spitting at you, and then tell me it's a potion? Do you expect me to believe you? At all? Do you expect me to actually accept some potion, and let my parents consume it, when it comes from you? And all because-"
"I told you that it needs to be d-"
"I don't believe you!"
"Why else would I be here? Do you think I just wanted to poison your parents to devastate you? If I would ever do that, I'd do it when you were unaware of who was behind it, and skip being hunted like an animal and thrown into Azkaban! If you look at this logically-"
"Logically, you shouldn't even be here or know about it! Logically, I'm going to send you to Azkaban anyway, if you don't immed-"
"Why would I be lying ab-"
"I don't know! To hurt them, to hurt me-"
"I already-"
"-a potion that you say works to stop something I haven't heard of, just to try telling me it worked when nothing happens! It's probably Ho-"
"Why-"
"To clear your name! To make you look like a good person, when you certainly are
not a-"
"Then don't clear my name! Just give them the bloody-" "I will not! I w-"
She turned her head when his eyes flicked up to the door, and would have missed him moving had it not been for the twitch of her wand. She twisted back as his wand was raising towards her, and she fired off a hex. He blocked it, and she cast another, another, his blocks coming just as quickly as he tried to maneuver himself to the door.
Hermione shot out a hand and shoved him off the porch. He hit the ground on his back, immediately rolling to avoid the curse she shot at him. He was on his feet in a second, and her next curse hit a tree when he Apparated away.
She sent a wild look around her, and then turned, pulling the door open. She stepped in as quietly as she could, holding her breath, and walked to the end of the hall. Her heart was beating so hard that it hurt, and her mind was spinning with confusion and fear. Her parents were talking low enough for it to sound like a hum from her distance, but since they weren't yelling in panic, she guessed Malfoy wasn't in there. And they hadn't witnessed a bunch of magic happening on their front porch.
She had to move quickly. She didn't know when or if Malfoy would be coming back, or if any of the neighbors had seen what happened. She really didn't want to scare them by Apparating them back to her flat before she reversed the memory spell, but she was running low on time.
Hermione backtracked, looking through the other entrance and into a kitchen. She swallowed loudly, hearing the conversation continue, and started forward. The kitchen led to a dining room, and then another hallway. She turned towards the direction of the living room, the conversation becoming loud enough for her to make out words like strange, Latin, Wendell, looked at him.
They were both seated on the couch when she turned into the living room, facing the opposite hallway. Hermione stopped in the doorway, not trusting the boards she had heard creak under their footsteps when she first arrived. She took four deep breaths, trying to slow her racing heart, and then lifted her wand.
The spell came easy. She had rehearsed it more times than she could remember the number for, and had spent a great deal of time preparing herself for it. It was easier than it had been to cast the first spell. The hardest part was knowing what would come after, but she didn't think there was anything they could say that she hadn't already told herself. She also didn't know if there was anything any of them could say that would make her wish she hadn't done it.
Her parents were so still that she feared she had done something wrong. It was like the only movement in the world was the dragging of her breath that rasped in her chest, and she could swear the next movement would be the entire world exploding.
It was a push of vocal chords instead, as her father said, "My God."
Her mother dropped the vase she had been holding to rearrange the flowers in, something she tended to do when she was nervous. It was the same vase that Hermione had transfigured for them out of a small, glass frog at the start of her third year at Hogwarts. It broke into dozens of pieces on the floor.
Her father jumped to his feet when Hermione began to speak. "Do you remember when I was eight, and I left the house for the library without telling either of you? You made me stay in the house or go with you to work for three weeks, and Mum cried, and you both told me it was because you had been so afraid. You said you'd do anything to keep me safe."
Her mother was still frozen, and had yet to turn and face her. Her father was looking at her like he still didn't know her. The lump at the bottom of her throat was getting too big to swallow around, and her head was swimming with all that excess, and it was only a matter of time that her eyes pushed out tears to compensate.
"I put a memory spell on both of you so that you'd forget me," she said tightly, her voice pitching into a whine on some of the vowels. "There was a war, and I didn't want them to find you, or for them to find us through you. I was afraid. I wanted to keep you safe."
"I'm going crazy," her mum whispered.
"No, no, it's just the spell. I reversed it back, and everything you remember now is how it really was."
Her father's eyebrows lowered and drew together as he tilted his head at her, and the tension in her chest caught on fire. He looked like he wasn't sure if he believed her, as if she really might not be their daughter, and it stole all the breath from her.
"Dad." The wetness spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. "Dad, I'm s-so sorry. You have to believe me. I did what I had to do."
She couldn't tell if the tears in his eyes was from the gloss of her own, or if they were truly there. She plainly saw the way he stepped back when she stepped forward, though, and the glance to the wand in her hand. Hermione gasped out a breath, and her wand clinked to the floor as she raised her hands.
"We were-it was in the living room at our home. I told you there was a new spell I had learned that could change your clothes while they were on your body. You sat there and let me cast it. Do you remember that? You let me cast it. And the next thing you remember is being Wendell and Monica, who wanted to move to Australia."
"Hermione." Her name came out strangled, and she let out a sob as she began to side-step around the couch.
"Do you remember Voldemort? He came after Harry, and we had to kill him. He tortured and murdered people. He would have done anything to find us. He would have done anything to you two." She shrugged, and let out three gasps of breath as she cried. "I didn't want to hurt you. Not if he found you because of my choices, or if I had died because of them. It was the only-"
Her father's lips were parted, and his teeth were clenched as his cheeks shined. The grip on her elbow jerked her forward, and she collided into him all heaving breaths and broken sounds. She dug her fingers into his shirt as he wrapped his arms around her, and she barely felt the tear-soaked material against her skin.
"I'm going to get the tea from the kitchen," her mother said distantly.
"It wasn't your choice to make. If we...if you hadn't...Christ."
"I couldn't...let some-...ha-happen to...you. It...so hard. Please. Please fo-forgive me."
He didn't say anything, and she repeated her apologies and explanations in a broken mantra into his shoulder.
July 12, 2002
Hermione blinked at the salary, and then she stared some more. It had risen significantly from the amount she had been first shown, when Malfoy sent out his proposal and a pack of charming, intelligent people to sway her to the dark side.
"Due to our contacts within the Ministry and foreign governments, we have a ninety-six percent approval rate for the acquisition of controlled and rare ingredients. Our research department is one of the best in Europe. Our products are distributed worldwide, with three percent given to worthy charities and causes in the treatment and prevention of diseases."
Hermione flipped through the distribution maps and quarterly sales, paused on the list of charities, and skipped to the next folder. She had researched the company thoroughly before she even agreed to meet with Malfoy's people, and, if she was honest, before he had even asked for a meeting. She worked for several different companies, and it was only natural to look into the one that was slowly taking over.
She had thought she would find something scandalous or suspicious about one of the departments, or even a bad business the company invested in, but she found nothing. There was only a case that had gone to the Wizengamot dealing with a former employee, a few accusations, and some secrets about the company's magical objects department that were never made public. Even his employees spoke highly.
"...at your disposal, along with three laboratories, four stock rooms, and five greenhouses."
"I'd like to tour the company before I fully consider this contract." She raised her eyes to the same steady look he had been aiming at her since shaking her hand.
"Of course."
She pressed her lips together as she studied the budget amount, which was larger than any other company she had or was working for. She had the potential to do great things here. She just had to get over the fact that she would be doing them for Draco Malfoy's company.
"Why is it that you want me to work for you?" she asked, looking up at him. "Is this another attempt to use me in improving your reputation?" She wasn't so sure he would have needed her for that anymore.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow, and his hands lifted from his lap and to the top of his desk. She was glad she had spent more time making sure she looked impeccable this morning, or she might have felt frumpy and of lower standards than him. Beyond one strand of hair sticking up from the combed curve at the left of his head - which she had only managed to see when he turned his head in the light - he was absolutely immaculate. There wasn't even a fleck of fuzz or hair on his black robes, which was no easy task to accomplish come two in the afternoon.
"Another?" "Yes."
His right eyebrow joined the other, and a wrinkle formed across his forehead. "You're going to have to be more specific, Miss Granger."
She would have thought he would address the issue without actually detailing what it had been, but instead he was ignoring it completely. "When you came to my parents' house, and attempted to give me a potion for them."
The mild interest shifted to incredulity. "I've no idea what you're referring to."
She glared at him, and dropped her hands to her lap to hide the way the clench of them proved her annoyance. "You came to their house, Malfoy - I wasn't going to forget it. And you knew. You knew what would happen." She'd been wondering how ever since it had.
He was looking at her carefully, like she might suddenly morph into a dangerous creature if he moved the wrong way. "Beyond a few Ministry and partnering business functions, this is the first time I've seen you in years. And I haven't seen your parents since Hogwarts."
"This was years ago," she said. "In 1999."
He frowned at her. "I was in France in 1999. I didn't visit England once all-" "Australia."
His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and he looked suspicious of her mental stability. It had been him, hadn't it? Did she just imagine it? Had it been some sort of momentary insanity brought on by stress and lack of sleep? Some signal from the universe that she was about to do things wrong? Hermione shook her head, her confusion evident.
"Granger, if you're sure that you were awake at the time, unless I appeared so intoxicated that I couldn't speak, I wasn't there. I was never in Australia that year, and just happen to not remember. Let alone visiting your parents."
The tips of her ears were hot, and she stood to distract her body from spreading that heat into her face. Malfoy stood after her, reaching to button his robe. He honestly looked like he didn't know what she was talking about. Maybe he was just an excellent liar, or maybe someone else had been there. But why look like him?
"I'd like to schedule a time for the tour," she said, gathering the files on his desk.
"I've cleared time to do it now, if you're able."
She looked at him from the top of her eyes, but he was blank-faced again. If you're able. He definitely assumed she had lost part of her mind. She felt like she had. "Uh, yes. We can do it now."
November 11, 2002
"Are you sneaking out as my employee or theirs?"
Hermione jumped, and spun left to stare wide-eyed at Malfoy. "What are you doing? Just stalking about in the shadows in an attempt to scare people to death?"
"Sadly, it doesn't work."
"And I am not sneaking out. I am..." Hermione paused and tilted her head, looking down the golden cobblestones in the post lights, "...taking a walk for fresh air."
Malfoy hummed, emerging from the row of shrubberies that disappeared into the dark. "I see."
"Yes. I was getting nauseous inside. All that purple lighting, you know. It looked like everyone had turned into purple creatures doing a strange dance. Or like someone had put a hallucinogen in my drink."
"Or perhaps you're just naturally mad."
"I didn't really think the Walpurd eyeballs were staring at me yesterday, I just said that it felt like they were watching me. It's like a Muggle picture, when they stared right at the camera, and no matter where you are in the room, it looks like their eyes are following you."
"Paranoia and delusions are both signs of madness. You're not helping your case."
She snorted as she started walking down the cobblestones, and she heard him fall into step behind her. "You're so paranoid that you would cut off your toes if you tripped, because you would be sure they had started plotting against you and your sense of balance."
"Come now, Granger," he said, his arm brushing hers once as he pulled even with her, "I may be paranoid, but I'm rarely self-destructive."
"Isn't paranoia self-destructive?"
"The opposite."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Say you're paranoid to walk by yourself at night, because you fear someone coming up to attack you. So you never go out at night, and you end up missing all the wonderful things that can happen, or people you could meet."
"Or you avoid being murdered by someone who really wants your cloak, and never have the opportunity for wonderful things or meeting people during the day."
"But you're still sacrificing all these potentially amazing things just because of the chance something bad will happen."
"And if you risk it, aren't you sacrificing your safety, and potentially your future?"
"And if you don't, aren't you sacrificing a million things that could potentially better your future? Friendships, or love, or business partners, business expansion, great memories."
"At night? You're not going to make any worthwhile partnerships beyond, perhaps, something memorable and fleeting with a woman. Any business expansion will likely be
"Fine, perhaps nighttime wasn't the best example. But say you had a potential employee with a spotty record from another company. He always turns out great products, but the previous company didn't give him much access, which gives the impression that he did something to make him untrustworthy-"
"Depending on the position I was considering him for, I'd likely pass over him in preference of keeping my secrets mine."
"But then he goes to another company, and ends up creating the cure for..." She shrugged. "I don't know, Wingpeg Disease. Makes that company billions. And you skipped out."
"Yet I still protected my secrets."
"But you missed out on billions! Not to mention the respect and reputation, awards, investors. What secrets are you hiding, exactly, that make the lost opportunity worth keeping them private?"
His eyebrow raised, and the corner of his lips twitched when he glanced at her narrowed eyes. "It's all about the risk, sacrifice, and gain. I'm not going to risk my life for nighttime dalliances - though I'm too confident in my abilities to defend myself to actually fear walking alone - and I'm not going to risk my secrets for more things I already have. Trust is crucial when giving anyone any power over you."
"So-"
"If the man was a brilliant Potions Master, but blew up a few cauldrons a day, I'd put up more safety wards and let him have at it. The potential gain is worth the risk of sacrificing some cauldrons. But myself? No."
"You still inadvertently sacrifice yourself. You don't gain anything, and so you lose something. The company with the cure gets everything you could have had, and rises above you in public trust and respect, outselling you, and you lose profit and customers. So you still sacrifice yourself in a way."
"But the loss isn't as bad as the potential loss would have been. Everything comes with a sacrifice. Everything comes with a price. You have to know if you're willing to pay it before you take the opportunity, and if you're not, then you don't take it."
Hermione sniffed, and watched her exhale puff out vapor as they edged into another circle of light. "That's why you don't do relationships then?" She glanced at him when he turned his head towards her. "If things go badly, you're sacrificing yourself."
"In relationships? You're sacrificing things if they go bad or well. They're all about sacrifice."
"But aren't they all about gaining things as well? Aren't the things you might gain worth the risk of what you might lose?"
"Is that why you're in a relationship?" He smirked at her, and she shot him a glare.
"Who says I'm not?"
"You see the inside of the lab as often as I see my office."
"So maybe I don't sacrifice work as part of the things I sacrifice."
"Is that why you're not in a relationship?" He took a side-step away from her when she eyed his shoe with stomping intent.
"I haven't found the right person to make a sacrifice for, I suppose, but I'm not against doing it."
"There you are, then."
"So you're willing to risk sacrificing yourself in a relationship, as long as the potential gain outweighs the potential loss?"
"As I said ten minutes ago. I guess it takes a bit for things to sink in through all-"
"It's what you want, though. It doesn't always make sense, or allow you to make the choice. Sometimes it's just there, and you want it, and you're helpless to not go after it. Or other things have happened that force you to make a choice, even if you'll have to sacrifice more by going after it, then if you had done nothing with it."
"I don't disagree, but that has nothing to do with my paranoia. That's just helplessly getting involved with no real chance to save yourself."
"Right, your paranoia. So what was the sacrifice, gain, risk ratio when your assistant handed you tea with her left hand on Wednesday, and you immediately contacted the spells and curses division for them to research discreet ways to detect Polyjuice?"
"Coincidence."
"Uh-huh. After you gave that suspicious with a bit of violence look to her hand, and then the back of her head the entire time-"
"It appears that we've crossed the boundaries," he said, pulling to a stop and turning to face her.
"Honestly? Judging from previous conversations, I thought the boundaries were somewhere around-"
The corners of his mouth curved the tiniest bit, and he nodded his chin to something behind her. "The boundaries of the building. They're set up in a circle that ends somewhere around that statue, which we passed at least two minutes ago. It's to prevent gatecrashing."
"Oh." She looked over her shoulder, making out the distant speck of a statue.
"Do you have your invitation? We can go back to the party if you do."
Hermione shifted her bag higher between her arm, knowing the square of paper was inside, but knowing she certainly didn't want to go back. She had been in the middle of a perfect getaway when Malfoy so rudely blew her stealthiness into fumbling transparency.
"Er, no. No, I do not. Left it at home."
"Really?" His smile grew. "You can only pass the boundary if you're holding on to one, so it's odd that it let you cross."
"Oh, well, I was holding on to the edge of Mister...Sinwitters when I arrived." "Who? I don't recall seeing that name on the guest list."
"Late addition. Other company."
"I see. If you've only left it at home-"
"No, I didn't. I left it inside, actually, not home, so I can't go back to get it. And I had it in my purse when I arrived, which is why I held the corner of Mister Sinwithers." She nodded as the amusement stole his expression. "I got a bit confused."
"With mistaking a business place for home? I'm not entirely surprised."
She glared, swiping her hands down her robes. "It's just because I'm tired. You request the guest list?"
"Obviously. I'm paranoid, remember?"
"Right." They stared at one another for a moment, and she cleared her throat. "Well, I should be going. It's too bad we can't get back in, really."
"Yes, absolute shame."
"But I'm rather tired. Exhausted. So...I'm off to sleep." "Yes, so you mentioned. Good night, Granger."
"Good night," she told him, before Apparating.
She appeared in the Apparition Room just a moment before a loud crack sounded, and she heard laughter before she even saw him. She glared at Malfoy, and the lines around his mouth, and the squint of his eyes, and the fullness of his amusement.
"You escape the party to work?"
"You're just as bad, Malfoy, so I don't want to hear a word about it." She humph ed as she strode towards the lift, his shoes clacking behind her. "And I didn't escape, I got stuck outside."
"Really? Because I have extra invitations if you'd like to go back."
She glared at him as she stepped into the lift, jabbing the button to go down to the laboratories. "I realized I left something unfinished."
She caught his smirk as he stepped into the lift next to hers, and she heard him press a button once. "I'll have someone bring you coffee."
"Fine." She sniffed, raising her chin. "As long as it's not you." "I'm wounded," he drawled.
"Then I've succeeded."
February 22, 2003
"Is this why you've been holding out on signing another contract? You wanted to negotiate using my-"
"No! It has nothing to do with that at all, especially since I don't know how these got here!"
"Neither do I, since these can only be found in a region of Norway that's been illegal to harvest from for the past thirty-two years. These? Illegal in England. This? Requires approval from the Ministry after a formal request. And I don't even know what the hell those two are!"
"I don't know what they are either, since I've never even seen what you're referring to, and accusing me of-"
"They were in your cabinet-"
"And why are you going through my cabinet?"
"Because there was a complaint over the weekend about a stench so powerful it was giving headaches to all the employees who passed by the room, and I ordered the cabinets searched for the source! They're the property of my company, and it's not-"
"Then obviously anyone can get into the cabinets, so anyone could have put that in there!"
Draco scoffed, shoving the box onto a table. "For what purpose?" "I don't know! To-"
"Yes, you don't know anything, do you, Granger?"
"Maybe because they feel threatened by my work here, and knew that my contract was finished today, and didn't want me to sign another! Maybe because they hate me for some other reason! Maybe because they wanted to get both of us in trouble with the Ministry!"
"It would have worked! If someone else discovered you were holding these plants, my company would be shut down! I'd-"
"It wasn't me! Why would I keep something like that here to be found by anyone?"
"A number of different reasons! You could-"
"Do you know me at all? D-"
"I know you figure yourself above the law when it's beneficial to a cause you feel deserves it! I know-"
"What cause? I-"
"The fuck if I know, but you-"
He grabbed the box from the table when she lunged for it, getting a hold on the edge. She didn't know if her headache was from the argument or the smell, but there was a putrid stench rising from the cardboard. She hadn't a chance to see a single thing inside of it, but she knew it didn't belong to her. There were some personal items in her cabinet, but none that were illegal to have.
Hermione tugged the box towards her again, dragged forward a step when he moved back. Her other hand slipped along the bottom, until she grabbed the top with both hands. She yanked back as he yanked forward, leaning her weight into the pull. The side of the box ripped and flew from her grip, and she was sure she was about to crash into the ground before his hand wrapped like a vice around her arm. The box dropped down his torso when he released a hand from it, and he hunched, quickly raising a knee to catch the bottom of the box on his upper leg.
His eyes were bright and hard on hers, his cheekbones smudged pink with his anger. She blew out a breath, getting her feet fully under her before releasing his shirt sleeve. She drew her wand before his hand even released her arm, and her spell almost missed when he darted upright and moved the box. It vanished from between his arm and chest, and the pressure with which he'd been holding it forced him to smack his arm into himself.
He stared unblinkingly at the empty space, and she tucked her wand away, her lips pursed. "If I had gone to as much trouble as a person must have to acquire those ingredients, do you really think I would have just vanishing them and not stole them from you?"
He raised his gaze and slowly lowered his arm, his expression unreadable. She was close enough to see the tiny frown lines around his mouth, and she thought if he breathed out any harder, she would feel it. She felt flustered and upset, and confused over why she felt so upset in the first place. Draco was suspicious of everyone. She supposed she just wanted him to trust her a bit more than that - even if the evidence was hard to deny.
"I didn't do it. I suggest you figure out who did."
He caught her wrist before she could turn away from him completely, but his grip was soft, his fingertips barely grazing her skin. "Most of the plants are or are rumored to be used in memory potions." He looked up from her cheek as her eyes widened. "You can blame me for not ignoring the facts, but I refuse to apologize for it."
"I..." She shook her head before turning it to face him, and felt his breath ghost her forehead and the bridge of her nose. They really were standing far too close now. "I see. But you could at least apologize for not talking to me about it, and instead stormed in here accusing me."
"And you could at least explain why you won't sign another contract, even before I've now cemented your refusal."
"This plays no part in my decision. I understand how you drew your conclusions, even if I disagree with how you handled it."
He licked his lips, and her eyes stayed on his mouth. It should have all been very obvious to a man who was so observant. Maybe it was, and he just wanted to make her say it.
"Why won't you?"
"There are...certain...things that have...that make it irresponsible to stay within the company."
His shoulders shifted, and she swore he grew closer. "And these certain things - they would prevent you from working and completing that work to your usual standards?"
"No. Not usually."
"Then there isn't a problem."
Her heartbeat had lost its sense of rhythm. "No, there is. Just a little bit."
He knew. He definitely, certainly, absolutely knew. His eyes were flicking between hers, and she could almost see the scales moving up and down in his mind. Risk, sacrifice, gain. "I disagree. If you can complete your work with the same abilities and speed as you did before the problem, then there's no reason for leaving your job."
God, he was close. She couldn't even stop the rock of her body that had the tip of her nose skimming his. He was like a giant magnet, or a book filled with everything she wanted to know, or a problem no one else could solve, or every possible thing else she found herself helplessly pulled to.
"I want my current contract extended for one month while I consider."
"Done."
"And it shall include the pay rise and budget expansion listed in the second contract proposal."
"Done."
"And a week of holiday time." "For a month? Three days." "Four."
"Done."
She rocked forward again, and her fingers curved over his shoulder. "And no intruding on me in the lab. During work hours."
"I won't, as long as it's not a memo, tour, or regular check-in."
"Fine." She blushed as her gaze traveled down his face. "And dinner. Friday." He smirked. "Done."
"Okay. Good. I'll stay," she said.
And then she kissed him.
May 1, 2003
Draco flipped another page in the report he was reading as if he hadn't just moved at all. Hermione trailed her eyes down his face, the report, the half-empty takeaway containers, and to the book he had just pushed towards her. She opened it to a random page, thumbed to another, read a paragraph, and then turned to another.
"Thank you."
"I got it when I went for the meeting in Denmark. I was told it was rare, but extremely useful. There were other books of the sort there, but since I'm unaware of the exact problem, I thought it best to get something more comprehensive."
"No one is aware of the exact problem." His eyes had stopped halfway down a page, and Hermione looked down to the book unseeingly. "They just can't remember."
"You said they remember parts of the past?"
"Not anymore." Hermione concentrated very hard on the black patches of words.
"They remembered almost everything when I first performed the counter-spell. There were some things they didn't, but I had thought it was just the normal forgetfulness of time and age. Or maybe that they were still trying to deal with these sudden memories of having me in their lives for eighteen years, after they had lived with no memories of me for two years."
"It's known to cause a lot of confusion, and questioning about what was real and what wasn't."
Hermione nodded, remembering the way they had stared at her sometimes. Like they didn't understand, or didn't trust their own minds. "I know. But then they forgot things like...my Hogwarts acceptance letter. Then things like my birthday, or the name of Hogwarts, which I told you about. Things they remembered two weeks earlier would either no longer be remembered at all, or would only be remembered as not involving me."
Draco slid the report onto the table and leveled his gaze on her. "Are you sure the original charm was completely erased?"
"That was my first assumption. There was no trace of it left that we could find. Then I thought it was because there were duplicate memories."
"The counter-spell didn't erase the altered memories, or buried the ones without you beneath the original."
"Right. So sometimes the duplicate won, or their minds, while trying to make sense of things, chose the duplicate as the original. Other times, the memory was disregarded completely, as if their minds blocked them because it couldn't make sense of it. The mind works in...very strange ways sometimes."
"So you don't know the cause yet?"
She shook her head. "We're trying to pinpoint it, and we're doing everything we can with each theory we think of. But nothing is making it better. The original spell, it...it altered every single memory in their entire lives. From the age of two, they knew what their real names were in each moment of their existence. From their twenties, they knew about me in each moment of their existence that followed. Everything had to be changed."
Draco's look was too intense for her not to lower her eyes from it, but she could still feel it against her skin, and thickening the air. "They're forgetting all of it?"
"Not that we can tell. Just the ones with me in it. They still remember a few of them, but it confuses them. They don't always understand who I am. My mum..." Hermione choked back the words and tried to push the thought away, shaking her head as her eyes watered.
"There must be a way to fix it. You just have to find it."
"I know." She raised her chin. "I will."
June 7, 2003
Hermione groaned, grabbing a pillow from beneath her head and pulling it down next to her cheek. "Don't look at me."
"Why?" He sounded amused through the groggy rasp of a long sleep in his voice.
She glared at the red behind her eyelids. "Because the sunlight reflects off the grey in your eyes, and they glow like little light bulbs were lit up behind them. And it's so bright that it burns my own eyes, and it makes them feel like they're on fire. So you need to keep looking away."
"My eyes make your eyes feel like they're on fire?" He hummed, and the bed shifted as he did. "Does it spread? Or was the red on your cheeks from something else?"
"No, it spreads. Eventually my whole body would be as red as a tomato, and my blood would be really hot, and I'd start sweating. And there could be boils. Which are contagious, and not something you want me to get when you're very naked next to me. So you should just stop looking at me with your dangerous eyes. And stop snickering while you're at it."
"This isn't snickering. This is outright laughter at your insanity. I can't decide what it must be like to be inside your mind all the time. It's either a wonderland of fantastical things that are always entertaining, or like flying through a strange world at top speed on an unstoppable broom. Either way, it's a bit terrifying."
"Shhr." Hermione shook her head. "Genius is so often misunderstood."
She laughed with him, and didn't mind that much when he threw the pillow off the bed to replace it with his mouth on her shoulder. He gathered up the mess of her hair, and his other hand brushed across the mark he had left at the bottom of her stomach last night.
"It's our last day in Spain. I say we don't do anything we'd normally do in England."
He anchored an arm around her waist and pulled her bum back against him, his lips dragging up her neck as she sucked in a breath. "I adamantly disagree."
"Fine. But we can only keep to one thing that we normally do in England."
"Only one?" He paused, and then hummed in thought at the edge of her jaw. "My choice?"
Judging by the feel of him against her, she was guessing their interests were well in line with one another. "Yes."
"Then I've decided we'll keep the noises you make."
"Noises?" A breathy sound escaped her as he sucked the skin behind her ear, and his trailing fingers left goosebumps down her side.
"One. There's at least two dozen of them. And since I know you prefer being thorough, it's my obligation to evoke each one from you now, so you know what to expect for the rest of the day."
"For the rest- Chuh."
His smile curved against her cheek. "Two."
September 13, 2003
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You look like you're about to turn into a statue. A very white one, given the increase of paleness. Pretty soon, I might be able to see how the inside of the human body works while the person is still alive and in motion."
Draco flashed her an annoyed look. "It's only because you look likely to vomit at any moment, and I'd rather not get too close."
She was feeling a bit sick with nerves, but she had been hoping she looked calm enough to calm him. Apparently, she was only making it worse. She grabbed his arm to still his movements, but the annoyance was replaced with something she didn't examine closely enough to understand.
"I buttoned you incorrectly," she muttered, reaching forward to push the fifth button out of the fourth hole.
It might have proved her anxiety, but it spoke even more of his own for not noticing. Draco was certainly a man who noticed. He had even been too nervous to brush her away when she attacked the buttons in his office, searching for something to busy her hands with. He had only look startled when she stopped in the middle of the third folding of his robe and looked a bit manically at the coat she had told him to put on.
Hermione glanced up at the nurse that passed by them, and her eyebrows drew together when the woman nodded at Draco. She looked up at him, but he didn't seem to think it was odd.
"Have you been here before?"
"No." He gave her a look that told her it should have been obvious, and then concentrated on her trembling fingers.
"They, uh...sometimes they think I'm a girl who used to play with their daughter when we were children." She swallowed twice to try ridding her voice of the heaviness. "I usually tell them there was an accident, and-"
"I know."
"But it gets worse sometimes, so it might be-"
He caught her hands, and she went still as he burrowed a look into her eyes that steadied the shaking in her chest.
"Okay," she whispered, not entirely sure what she was saying it to.
It was good enough for him, though, and he kept his grip on one of her hands as he pulled her back around. She slid her fingers through his own as they started towards her parents, and if she squeezed it too tightly, he didn't mind.
December 4, 2003
Hermione uncrossed her arms as Draco started through another rack of vials, pausing long enough on each one to read the label. He looked thinner than he had felt last night, and she wondered how much he was eating with all the stress of the upcoming trial. He didn't have anything to worry about, since she knew herself that he didn't mistreat magical creatures - or she would have righted him long before an angry former employee could attempt dragging his name through the mud - but Draco didn't trust the Ministry. He even refused to hire anyone who last worked for the Ministry before applying to his company.
"Suspect"-he jumped-"me of dastardly plots against you?" she asked. He turned, and she narrowed her eyes. "How much sleep have you been getting?"
She didn't think he would answer at first as he reached to drop a vial back into a slot, his eyes searching her face for something. "Not much."
"I told you, they aren't going to find anything, because there's nothing to find. And no, they aren't going to plant evidence against you to crumble your...what was it?" She rolled her eyes. "Empire."
"I-"
"I know not everyone can be trusted, Draco, but you've somehow become an asset to society. No one wants to ruin a good thing. Even if they suspect you of being bad."
He watched her push herself up on the table and smooth her skirt down, and his wand twirled between his fingers. "It may be hard for you to beat down the annoying urge to view the world in positive angles, but people have different definitions and examples of what is good. When it comes to things or people that have more than them, those things or people are almost always undeserving. The world likes to build things up. But don't be disillusioned to the fact that they enjoy it more to watch a high thing fall."
"Hm." Hermione shrugged. "I see your point. I don't like to see you build your ego up, but I did love watching you fall over the pavement last month."
A wrinkle appeared at the top of his nose as he frowned at her. "I've no idea what you're referring to."
She squinted her eyes as she slowly shook her head. "Don't lie. It is a moment I will remember and laugh at you about for the rest of my life."
Some emotion flashed across his features before he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I was only mocking your own lack of balance."
"No, you were too distracted with ogling me to notice the rise in pavement, even though we were at work." She raised a hand. "And it doesn't count that we weren't in the building yet, since it's now a rule that we can't do anything that...uh, makes the other distracted before work. Which is your fault, since that horrible day you...distracted me all morning and day, and made me attack-seek revenge in your office."
His grin was wicked, and her hands tightened around the edge of the table. She told herself she should check the room to be sure no one was there, but she'd rather not look away from him.
"Technically, you distracted me that morning, and so you were the one who broke the rules."
"That was not my fault! I was simply running towards the door because I was late. Which was your fault."
"Accept-"
"We're far off my point. Which was that you have no reason to worry. And you should be sleeping, and eating, and- Why are you digging through the potions?"
"I was checking them over. Which ones are for the company?"
"All of them, except these," she said, motioning towards a small rack on the table.
He took the three steps that closed the distance between them, and stopped at the spot beside her. He lifted each of the seven vials, reading the labels, though he rarely bothered to look at them.
"You should take one of the Invigoration Draughts."
"All you've made are Invigoration Draughts and a Pepper-Up?"
She reached out for a wrinkle in the sleeve of his shirt, and rubbed it between her fingers, looking at him in confusion. "Why are you surprised? You've-"
"I'm not. I just thought you'd create more of your own brews with everything in reach." He was looking at her oddly, and there was something about him that was making her feel tense.
"No, I haven't had time beyond a few botched experiments, but those usually end up as attempts for the company anyway. Draco, are you all right? You seem strange."
He scowled at the table and pushed two fingers against his temple, his eyes sliding shut when she touched his shoulder. "I'm just stressed, Hermione. I've tried everything, and no matter what I do..."
"The stress will go away when the problem is solved, which it will be. I know you think it's stupid to always search for the positive things, but you need to remember that it's almost over. Be thankful it's not the beginning again." His eyes opened, and he turned his head towards her. "Everyone knows the accusations are rubbish. You're not abusing magical creatures."
"Of course not," he muttered. "Henley will pay a large fee, and publicly apologize to avoid jail time over falsifying information, lying to the Wizengamot, and character defamation."
Hermione grinned. "Exactly. Though his name is Hensley."
Her smile faded as he continued looking at her, and she reached to cup his face. Given the circumstances, she figured she was allowed to break the rules just a little, tiny bit, and so she kissed him. His hand tightened around her nape before she could pull away, and he claimed her mouth in dragging pulls, and hums of sound between tugs and dips of his tongue.
His thighs knocked against her knee before he pushed himself between her legs, an arm wrapping around her waist. She pulled her head back to pant for air, and he tucked his face into her neck. His body swelled as he inhaled, and then his exhale puffed hot and moist against her skin. She wrapped herself around him as he breathed her in again, and only gave him enough room to move when he raised his head to press his mouth to hers.