There were thirty minutes left until midnight. Neither of them cared. Hermione and Draco were both physically and emotionally worn out from the evening's events, and there was a lingering tension from knowing that their struggles weren't over yet. The thought of Obliviating him filled her with sadness after all that they'd been through together.

The two sat in silence on the couch, sipping the tea that Draco had made. He sat upright, shirtless as always, with his dark green pajama bottoms. She leaned against him, legs extended along the length of the couch. His arm wrapped around her stomach, and he absently traced patterns on her forearm with his left hand.

Hermione watched the motions of his fingers, how his knuckles bent and flexed. She wasn't exactly sure what she meant to him, but they were infinitely closer than they had been. The sex had been disturbingly intimate, and fighting together—whether against one another or internal demons or an external enemy—always brought people closer. They had done all three.

She couldn't sort through what she felt towards him right now. He had risked his life to betray Voldemort and help her and the other Muggle-born students at Hogwarts. But he had also blackmailed her into performing all these acts with him. Tricked her. She didn't know what it meant that he had given her an opportunity to end the arrangement at any time. Several times directly asking her if she wanted to open the bag.

Why didn't he just tell her? It was infuriating. He obviously knew that what he had done to her tonight was wrong. The projection from the Horcrux made that apparent.

"Draco?"

"Mmm?"

"Why did you blackmail me into doing those things with you?"

He leaned over and laid his cheek on top of her head. "Honestly, Hermione, I didn't think things would get as far as they did."

She pushed herself off of him and swiveled around to face him on the couch. His hand fell to her thigh.

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "I was screwing around with you. I was bored, and you kept ignoring me."

"I thought you were sent to spy on me."

"Yeah, I figured as much. That's why I swiped that beaded bag of yours." He took another sip of his tea. "I didn't actually think we would do anything. I mean, I hoped we would."

He had told her he was bored and she was sexy when he had made her tea a few days ago. He must have been telling the truth back then.

"So why sign the contract at all?"

"You took it so seriously, and I played along. I know that I tricked you, but this whole evening was entirely your idea. After I broke the charm on the notebook, your desperation made a lot more sense."

"No shit," she retorted, irritated.

He rubbed the skin of her thigh with his thumb and continued. "I was certain you'd look in my bag when I brought it out and nothing would happen. Maybe I'd tease you a bit, but you'd get your bag, get the Horcrux, rip up the contract, and I'd let you Obliviate me." He motioned to the blackened diadem. "He'd skin me alive just for knowing about this. Even if I didn't help you."

"But," she said in an exasperated tone, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it was fun?" he gave her a sheepish grin, looking several years younger.

"That's your excuse, Malfoy?"

"I had no idea you were going to get so turned on. And I kept asking you if you liked it. If you wanted it. It's not like you were upset. And you bloody told me you wanted to suck me off! I was stunned! I know you wouldn't have done those things otherwise, but…" He stopped and rubbed his face with his hand. "I didn't think you were going to actually obey me. I was so sure you'd hex me when I told you to crawl across the floor. You could have Langlocked me so I couldn't order you around, or stunned me until the clock ran down, and I still would have had to comply with the Obliviation. I couldn't have made it any easier for you. Firewhisky in one hand, knickers in the other. I wasn't holding my wand and all but begged you to hex me. That's what I would have done in your position." He turned to her. "Why didn't you?"

He was right. She could have. She felt so stupid. "I… I don't know. Because it wasn't in the spirit of the contract? I didn't even consider it."

"Gryffindors…" Draco shook his head in disbelief. "There was nothing in the contract that said you couldn't. You always had that option because I let you keep your wand. And then you didn't. I guess some part of me wanted to think that if you really didn't want it you would have hexed me. I couldn't believe half of what was happening at the time! And then your mouth was on my cock-"

"And you just… chose not to stop any of it?" she cut him off.

Hermione felt so idiotic, but how could she have known? The stakes were high. It was a war. He was a Death Eater.

"You kept saying that you liked it and that you wanted it. I always asked you. Everything I did, you wanted me to do! Merlin, the way you grabbed me when we-"

"But I thought I had to, Malfoy! You tricked me!"

"I know! I got carried away! And then," he continued, clearly ashamed now, "I thought that if I made you mad enough you would punish me or, or hurt me. And I… I wanted you to hurt me. I don't know. I should have told you." He ran his hand through his hair. "I know it doesn't make any sense. Committing another sin so I could be punished for what I've done." He set his teacup on the table and rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor between his legs. "It was wrong. Things got completely out of control."

She stared at him.

"Merlin, Malfoy. You're a fucking prick."

He turned his head to look at her. "Tell me about it."

"So you didn't plan tonight?"

"Fuck no. I wanted something to happen. Obviously. The past few days I was too busy trying to locate the diadem. I knew that I had seen it in the Room of Hidden Things, but it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. And it wouldn't respond to a summoning charm."

After a few moments of silence, he took her hand in his and ran his thumb back and forth over her palm.

"Hermione…" His voice was raw with emotion. "I'm really sorry. I let things go too far. I should have told you."

She stilled and waited, looking down. He squeezed her hand, and warmth diffused up her arm.

"I'm also sorry for how I've treated you in the past. It was wrong, it was all wrong. I won't…" He cleared his throat. "I won't remember this apology, but you will." She glanced up and met his eyes, intense regret reflected back. "That will have to be enough."

Hermione felt something crumple inside her at the thought that he wouldn't remember apologizing to her. Her lips parted, her voice tight as she replied, "It is."

Draco leaned down, pressed his lips to her forehead, and exhaled slowly.

She sipped her tea and they studied each other in silence. He looked like he wanted to ask her something but was holding back.

"What?"

"You Obliviated your parents, didn't you?"

She nodded wordlessly and tears formed in her eyes. "They don't remember me. I sent them away to keep them safe. I don't know if I'll survive to bring them back. I don't even know if I'll be able to restore a memory charm that comprehensive. And even if I can, I don't know if they'll forgive me. I… I still don't know if it was the right thing to do."

A tear made its way down her cheek. Draco tentatively reached forward to wipe it away. "It was," he whispered. "They couldn't find your parents. They tried and came back angry."

She nodded, feeling equal parts relief and horror. "It helps to know it wasn't for nothing."

He stared at her and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was afraid to say it. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"Hermione?" He furrowed his brow at her and looked like he was going to choke. "I can't lose my memories."

She stared at him in thought. "I've been thinking about that," she replied, wiping the rest of her tears away and setting her tea down on the table. "If the Order wins, your actions tonight could get you out of Azkaban. I don't know how we would have figured out the things you've told me on our own." She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I'll give your memories from tonight to someone – they'll be safe until this is all over."

"No, that's not what I meant." He shook his head and turned to face her on the couch, willing her to understand. "I deserve Azkaban. But memories change a person. Last week, I wouldn't have told you the things that I did today." He looked at the burnt tiara on the table. "I wouldn't have confronted the things I've done. If I lost my memories, I'd lose myself. Go backwards and…" He laced his fingers into her hair, cradling the back of her head tenderly. "I owe you my life for what you're doing. I want to know that."

She peered into his eyes. They held a sad desperation. "Draco, that's… I don't think that's true. You haven't changed that much tonight."

He looked insulted. "What do you mean?"

"All tonight was, this week actually, was an opportunity. You've already changed. You're still changing. You said so yourself earlier, when I asked what happened to you."

He looked down at her toes, digging into the cushions of the couch, and he rubbed her head with his thumb affectionately, thinking about what she said.

"When did you stop believing that blood purity rubbish?" she prompted.

"Towards the end of fifth year." He looked up at her and brought his hand down to hold her upper arm. He'd been incredibly affectionate since he'd destroyed the Horcrux. Always touching her. Stroking her. "It's not as if the Muggle-borns at Hogwarts are all at the bottom of the class. Some do well, some are average, some do poorly. And then there's you." He said with a smirk. "For children who are supposed to be inferior, they certainly do well enough for themselves, even without knowing what magic is until the age of eleven. The whole 'magic stealing' narrative that Umbridge pushes is ridiculous. The more I was around her, the crazier it all started to sound."

Hermione nodded. That certainly made sense. "If you didn't believe it in fifth year, why did you go along with the Death Eaters in sixth?"

His eyes shifted back to hers. "Pure-blood entitlement. Politics were changing and I felt threatened. A lot of Pure-bloods did. My father was in Azkaban. I believed we were defending our property, our traditions, our way of life... Our influence, our power, our rightful place in society. I was proud to take the Dark Mark back then. I thought I was restoring honor to our family name after my father was convicted."

"And when did you stop believing that?"

"Part way through sixth year." He shook his head in disgust. "It's just not worth it. We have dungeons in the Manor, Hermione. And…" His eyes widened slightly, recounting memories he didn't detail. "They're all in use. Even if I believed in that blood purity shite, I could never…" He swallowed, his pallor looked somewhat greenish. "You have to understand. Last year, I didn't want Bell or the Weasel or Dumbledore or anyone to get hurt or to die. He tortured my parents, and Aunt Bella tortured me. He was going to kill us all."

Hermione thought back to how McGonagall had threatened him to ensure her safety.

"If I could have done sixth year over, I would not have volunteered to take the Dark Mark. Or I would have gone directly to Dumbledore. I was a prideful idiot. I just didn't know it then, hadn't understood the gravity of what I had gotten myself into. And then…" He took a deep breath and looked at her. Pleading with her to understand. "I didn't know how to get out. I was trapped into finishing what I was assigned to do. All I could do was continue so he wouldn't kill my parents. Or me."

"And you decided on all that this week?"

Draco gave her a rueful grin. "Point taken." She could see the change in his demeanor. He didn't want to be Obliviated, but he understood that he wasn't losing the progress he'd made over the years.

They had better get started with this. Putting it off would just hurt more. She reached over for her beaded bag and dug an unbreakable vial out.

"I'm going to extract a copy of the memory of us discussing my notebook and destroying the Horcrux," Hermione explained. "You won't go to Azkaban if I can help it."

"But you have that memory, too," he protested.

"What if I die?" Hermione rebutted. He looked sharply to her at the suggestion, but she only shrugged. Neither of them knew what would happen.

"Who will you give it to?"

"Maybe your aunt."

His jaw dropped and her lips quirked upwards before she clarified, "Your other aunt."

His eyebrows slowly rose in understanding and she reached for her wand. "Turn to face me."

Draco shifted on the couch, bringing one leg up so he could face her better. Hermione steadied herself, swirled her wand in the air and muttered a few incantations, staring into his eyes. He watched her, rapt with attention. She pressed her wand to Draco's temple and pulled gently. A silver stream was attached to her wand's tip. She pulled more, and the air around them became luminous as the stream from his temple lengthened. She pulled until it released, falling delicately between them like a thin, translucent piece of fabric.

Hermione watched Draco gaze at the memory as it shimmered and rustled in the room's air currents. His eyes were beautiful, reflecting the silver of his memory. Of this memory in particular.

Gently, she placed the memory in the vial and muttered the charm to detach it from her wand. She capped the vial and added another anti-breaking charm for good measure before holding it up for him to see.

"Court evidence that you've changed." She cleared her throat. "And are still changing."

He pursed his lips, took the vial out of her hand, and swirled the contents around, peering into it before giving it back to her. Hermione put it into her bag and steeled herself for what she was about to do. If all went well, she would find him and restore his memories. But if not, at least he wouldn't suffer needlessly in Azkaban. Merlin knew he'd already suffered enough.

"So…" Draco's voice shook slightly. "Do you Obliviate me now? Or wait until Sunday morning?"

She looked down at her wand and ran her finger up and down the length of the wood. "The more complex our interactions, the more difficult it becomes to perform the spell without you realizing you've been Obliviated or someone else catching on. It's safer to do it now. Tonight. Whenever you're ready."

Their eyes met, and Draco's jaw clenched. She had Obliviated her parents from behind, while they were watching the telly. They hadn't known what she was going to do, and she hadn't had to look at them when she did it. She knew it'd be easier that way now, but she didn't have the heart to tell Draco to turn away. Not when he knew what was going to happen.

Pressure grew in her chest. The air thickened between them, and her mouth went dry. She looked into his eyes and found Draco staring at her, as if he was memorizing the planes of her face. She didn't know if she could do it while he was looking at her like that. So desperate and wanting.

And then Draco spoke, his voice low and gravelly, just like when he'd told her how much he wanted her. "I don't want to forget how I know you, Hermione. I wish we had more time."

Her lips parted. "I feel the same. If we're still alive when this is over, I promise I'll return your memories." She tried to swallow, but her throat caught. "Ready?"

"No." Draco's voice came out broken. He swallowed. "Do it anyway."

She raised her wand and looked him, willing herself not to cry, and began the spell. She left the surreptitious glances, the silent hours spent in the common area, and him traipsing back and forth in his towel. She tried to collect the memories that counted. He looked desperate and anxious. She couldn't think while he stared at her like that, so she let her eyes flutter closed.

She imagined when he'd stood over her looking at her work, flirting with her and making her tea, and she waved her wand. She focused on her beaded bag, on the Horcruxes, on her research, and on the tiara, and waved her wand again. She remembered their confrontation: when she'd accused him of stealing her bag, the negotiation over the contract, and his almost kiss from yesterday.

And finally, she imagined everything that had happened this evening: the flirting, the banter, the teasing, the anger, the confessions, the memories that brought a flush to her face and a pool of desire between her legs, destroying the Horcrux. Everything up until now.

She waved her wand again.

Hermione opened her eyes and was immediately fixed in place by Draco's bright grey stare. It was a mistake to do so. He was apprehensive and despairingly sad, and she felt her chest constrict. Tears began to collect and burn in her eyes. She felt one fall over her lower lid and continue on a hot path down her cheek.

She pointed her wand at him and choked out with a sob, "Obliviate!"

Draco flinched but held her gaze. She saw him sway, tentative for a moment, before reaching out, pulling her against him, and pressing his lips to hers. It was a last, heart wrenching, desperate kiss that she knew he wouldn't remember. He gasped into her mouth and reached with his tongue. He dug his fingers into her arm and the back of her head. She opened her mouth and fisted his hair. They clung to each other, their tongues reaching out, stroking, needing, wanting. She tasted the salt from her tears and held him tight. His breathing was harsh and ragged. She panted from the ferocity of his kiss and he shuddered in her arms.

Hermione felt the precise moment the spell took effect. Draco's hands went slack, and his mouth moved slowly, unsure. He pulled away. He was dazed and furrowed his brows at her.

He wiped tears from his eyes and looked at the wetness on his fingers, slightly perturbed. "Granger?" his voice was soft. Confused.

She squeezed his other hand affectionately. He looked down as if he couldn't understand what her hand was doing there with his. She got up, collected her things, gave him a soft kiss on his cheek, and walked back to her room before he came to his senses.

Chapter end notes:

We all knew it was coming...

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