Chapter 21: Charming Nonsense

Draco stared at the green concoction that I was holding out to him. "I'm supposed to drink that?"

"Unless you would rather warm it up and eat it like soup," I said, pushing the cup into his hands. Then I hesitated. "Full disclaimer, this won't work immediately. But first I want to make sure that this is what you want."

He blinked. "Are you asking if I want my memories?"

"Exactly. I don't know everything, but I know your life hasn't been an easy one," I said seriously. "It might be more painful for you to remember than not. I can't make that decision for you."

Without hesitation, Draco downed half the glass in a single swallow. "I won't hide from my past. I've lived this long with my memories, clearly I'm capable of handling them." He smirked. "Besides, once they're restored I can start flirting again. It's quite fun."

"You're impossible," I groaned, but a small piece of me had to admire the way he drank the concoction immediately. I knew there were a few memories I would be happy to forget.

Once the glass was empty Draco looked at me with the slightest mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "So, what now boss?"

"None of this boss nonsense. We need to come up with a suitable alias for you to attend your own funeral," I told him. "I have enough cause to go to your funeral, and I can say that I merely apparated back from America."

Draco clapped his hands together. "I could be the Minister for Magic!"

"No," I said immediately. "Besides, he'll probably be makes most sense to me is for you to pose as Hazel."

"You want me to be a girl?!" he demanded.

"It's misleading to anyone who might be looking for you, and as I'm supposed to be working with Hazel in America, it's logical for her to join me," I explained. "As the funeral is tomorrow our options are limited."

"I'll have you know I'm rubbish at American accents. I know because I tried it in America," Draco said almost smugly. "When I attempted an American accent Cora just laughed for ages."

"Well I doubt you can do a decent woman's voice either. That's why you won't be talking," I said with a smile.

"This simply isn't fair!" Draco exploded.

"Americans have a saying that I believe applies here: suck it up," I told him, patting his cheek. "Don't forget to put that cup in the sink."

As he did so, Draco commented, "I was pleasantly surprised. For as foul as that looked, it tasted quite good. Are you sure that was a cure?"

"It's a step towards getting your memory back," I said evasively. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see Hazel about some hair."

After I flooed to Hazel's apartment, she kept me there entirely too long telling me what an honor it was to help me once again. In her excitement she nearly cut off half her hair, but I convinced her a single strand was plenty.

"Do you want to borrow a dress or something as well?" Hazel asked.

"That would be lovely, actually. Our sizes are just different enough that my clothes might look a bit odd," I said, grateful she had thought of it.

Despite the progress in our friendship, Hazel still acted flustered around me, and so she sent me back home with half of her closet in tow.

Once I apparated back to my house, I started apologizing for being gone for so long, but I froze mid-apology when I saw what Draco was doing.

"Did you stop and go shopping?" Draco asked, but his sarcasm was largely diluted by the fact that he sat in a blanket fort, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar, the floor littered with books, magical and muggle alike.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"After the first twenty minutes I got bored, so I found some books. Then I got hungry and I don't know how to cook, so I went into full survival mode."

I carefully laid Hazel's clothes across the couch. "Don't ever go camping alone. But I'm sure you can cook something."

"See, I can remember what I can and can't do. I can remember half a dozen flying maneuvers I can do. When it comes to cooking it's simple; I can't," Draco said lazily.

"Well, we can fix that," I said with a wink. "By the way, that's officially your jar of peanut butter. Merlin knows what kind of germs you've got."

Draco looked quite satisfied with himself as he relished another spoonful of peanut butter. "So, what are all of those clothes for? Did you go shopping for the funeral?"

"No, these are for you to choose from to wear to the funeral, and don't you dare get peanut butter on any of these clothes," I warned him with a glare.

"But none of these are my color," Draco complained.

"I suppose I should be relieved that you've accepted that you'll be a woman at the funeral," I sighed.

"No, I really haven't, I just have priorities," Draco said, scooping out another heaping spoonful of peanut butter. "Your friend Hazel was lovely, but her fashion sense was lacking."

"Hazel dresses professionally, a lot like I do," I said, crossing my arms. "Are you insinuating something?"

"No no no," Draco said, wildly waving his spoon around. "Your clothes are posh. They fit well and the colors suit you. But you've always had some idea of good fashion, just remember the dress you wore to the Yule Ball our fourth year…"

Draco trailed off and we simply stared at each other, stunned.

Finally I burst. "You remembered something!"

He grinned. "I'll be flirting with you in no time."

Rolling my eyes, I did my best to snuff the hope beginning to spark in my chest. "IF you remembered the Yule Ball you must remember how annoying I was."

"I only remember wanting to hex Krum," Draco said confidently.

"You're mad. Put the peanut butter away, you're going to help me make dinner," I said sternly. "And I expect those books to be back on their shelves in the proper order when you're done."

He saluted me before climbing out of his fort. He proceded to prove that he did indeed have zero cooking ability, but he caught on quickly enough. Our only casualty was a hand towel that he somehow caught on fire. It was much less terrifying than the one time I let Ron anywhere near the kitchen.

As per usual, the thought of Ron instantly dampened my mood. My treacherous mind brought forth images of him happy with Rita and her terrible accent. Part of me could tell that Rita would bring years of misery, but right now he was happy while I still felt unwanted, broken.

Having just slid our dinner into the oven, Draco turned to me. Seeing my expression, he frowned. "What are you thinking of? You can't be sufficiently impressed with m newfound abilities if you're moping."

"Sorry, I was just thinking of something… foolish," I said. "It doesn't matter."

"It clearly does matter if it's bothering you this badly," Draco argued. "It's him, isn't it? If you don't mind me asking, what is the story there?"

"Ronald and I were engaged," I said with a weary sigh. "I really did love him, and I like to think he loved me as well. I actually bought this house with our future family in mind."

"You bought the house for the two of you, but he didn't pay for any of it?" Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.

"He was supposed to, but he bought a new broom instead,' I said. "Anyway, before our engagement he would get annoyed with me, but he would never talk to me about it; instead he refused to speak to me for days at a time until he went and drunk himself silly. I had a lot of people telling me to break things off because he would regale the whole pub with stories of how horrible I was. I did confront him and it stopped. I was convinced that it meant that he was committed.

"So he proposed, and I said yes. But between how busy the ministry keeps me and the stress of planning a wedding we were constantly fighting. Then I would only go so far physically, and Ron took that completely the wrong way. Things started to go well between us until the day of our anniversary he announced that he was going to marry his favorite barista, who was pregnant."

Draco looked murderous. "Go on," he growled. "I can tell that's not the end."

"Well, the rest is really just me wallowing in self-pity," I said lightly. "The public had a field day. Ronald is still blacklisted from a lot of places. But as much as the public was mad at Ron, there were always whispers of how terrible I must have been to drive him away. There are also the people who would handle me with kid gloves. You can only be treated like you're broken for so long before you start to believe it. Thus ends my tragic story. Now I think that casserole is finished. Let's eat and forget that Ronald Weasley exists."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Draco said. "I've already got entirely too much time to plan which hexes I should use on Weasley the next time I see him."

"It's a good thing you're legally dead and have to stay in hiding," I said drily. "But let's talk a bit more about that moment you remembered."

Sadly Draco only remembered the image of me in my periwinkle dress and the emotions he was feeling at the time, but it was a start. I would take a half-memory within the first day. Afterwards dinner was lovely for the two of us. It was astonishing how much Draco and I had in common, and how much he could make me laugh. At one point I did snort water out of my nose, and he just said, "Have I told you you're the most gorgeous girl I know?"

I threw a balled up napkin at him. "Nonsense. Everything you say is nonsense."

"Charming nonsense," he said with a smirk. "But can we take a moment to appreciate how good this food is?Who knew I could manage to help make something edible?"

"Truly there are miracles," I said with a chuckle. "Keep that in mind when you're attending your own funeral."


A/N: I'm really not sure where this chapter came from, it just kind of happened, so I just went with it. Next chapter we'll see the funeral! A special thanks to everyone who followed and reviewed, it motivates me to write more than anything, knowing that other people find my story compelling.

I hope everyone's summer is going amazing!