Another new chapter! A reviewer asked yesterday if I'll be working on another Dramione story, and the answer is yes. I started working on the 3rd chapter of it today while also writing my Hunger Games story (please read?). Once I finish posting this story, I'll start on that one. If I have a title by then. Which I might. Or not. I don't actually know.
Chapter 16
While Harry and Draco worked on the memory potion, Hermione pulled Ginny aside to share their recent developments. "He remembered what Ana was like as a baby," she said, her voice hushed for fear that someone else might overhear.
"Just out of the blue?" Ginny asked. "And you don't think he was making it up?"
Hermione shook her head. "He seemed more surprised by it than I did," she replied. "We just can't seem to figure out what triggered it."
Ginny took a seat at her kitchen table and propped her chin upon her hand, deep in thought. "Well, what's changed between the two of you?" she wondered. "He seems friendlier lately. And did my eyes deceive me or was his arm around your waist?"
"It was," Hermione confirmed with a slight blush. "He's slowly becoming more affectionate lately. It almost reminds me of when we first became friends. Remember the time he said he was holding my hand because there was a spider on it and he was just brushing it away? At least now he's not resorting to silly excuses."
"So, what else has he remembered?" Ginny asked, excited by the turn Draco had taken.
"Not much," Hermione replied with a shrug. "He did ask me what happened to her pink blanket. Remember the one Molly knitted for her as a receiving blanket?"
The redhead nodded. "I remember it," she said. "Ana managed to unravel it somehow, right?"
"Her first bit of magic," Hermione recalled fondly. "Draco asked about it this morning."
The sound of little feet running put a brief end to the conversation. "Mama, Daddy no play with us," James complained.
"Him helping my daddy," Ana yelled at him. Then she turned to her mother, her expression softening . "I right, Mama?" she asked.
"Sorry, buddy," Hermione said to James. "Daddy and Uncle Draco are busy working. I think you two will just have to keep each other entertained today."
Ana shook her head as she glared at James. "Wanna stay with you," she insisted, and to prove it, she attempted to climb onto her mother's lap. "Read me, Mama?"
"Only if James can listen too," Hermione replied, sending her off to get a book. She returned minutes later with Sleeping Beauty. Nestled on her mother's lap and James on Ginny's, Hermione opened the book and began to read. "Once upon a time..."
When she reached "And they lived happily ever after" Ana took the book and closed it before placing it on the table. Turning, she looked up at her mother and asked, "Did you kiss Daddy awake?"
"No, sweetie, I didn't," Hermione told her.
"But that's what the prince did, and her woke up. Like magic."
"It's just a story, Ana," Ginny said. "Magic doesn't really work like that."
Hermione picked up the book again and flipped to the end. "What if it did?" she wondered, rereading the scene when the handsome prince arrives with a kiss to awaken Sleeping Beauty.
"Come on, Mione. You don't really believe in true love's kiss, do you?" Ginny asked.
"Think about it, Gin," she replied. "We start getting close again, and he remembers things. What if the magic in story books is real? They all say there's no greater magic than true love's kiss."
"And have you had that kiss yet?"
Hermione shook her head. "His memories have all been of Ana," she recalled. "We both know how much he loves her. Maybe it doesn't have to be romantic love for the kiss to work."
Ginny put James back on feet and rose from her chair. "You sound a little bit crazy," she said with a laugh.
Hermione copied her actions, but exited the kitchen instead. Harry had set up a makeshift workspace on the top floor of Grimmauld Place. There, he and Draco worked prodigiously on the potion that could restore her husband's memories. Without knocking, she entered the room to find both men hunched over cauldrons and texts.
"What do you know about fairy tales?" she asked.
Harry looked up. "They're made up stories designed to amuse children," he said.
"But remember the story about the Deathly Hallows?" she asked. "There was some truth to it, Harry. You had all three, making you the Master of Death."
"Where are you going with this, Hermione?" Harry wondered.
"There are stories in Beedle the Bard about the magic behind true love's kiss," she explained. "What if it's real? What if it really can break any spell?"
Draco put down the jar he had in his hand and turned his full attention to her. "I've never heard of it happening," he said. "It doesn't mean it might not be true though."
Hermione rounded the table and took hold of Draco's hand. "You've kissed Ana because you love her, and then you started to remember things about her," she said, clinging to the hope that fairy tale magic could fix their lives. "What's to say that wouldn't work again?"
"So you want me to fall in love with and kiss everyone I know?" he asked, eyebrows raised skeptically. She shook her head, frustrated that she couldn't seem to get her point across. "Besides, I didn't remember anything about her until you kissed me."
"Just her," Harry interjected. "You might only need to fall in love with her."
Draco looked at her guiltily. "But...I mean," he stuttered as his hand slipped from hers.
"I understand that you don't love me," she told him, her voice quiet enough to keep this part of the conversation between them. "But I love you, and maybe that's enough."
He reclaimed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I don't want you to get your hopes up about this," he said. "If it doesn't work, I'm worried about it upsetting you."
"Don't be," she replied. Her free hand stroked his cheek. "I know it's crazy and probably won't work. I just like having options."
"I think you just want to kiss me, Granger," he teased with a smile on his lips and playfulness in his voice.
She pinched his cheek as she pulled her other hand out of his. "That's Malfoy to you," she retorted, leaving them to their work.