Chapter 10

"She's really upset that there's a chance to reverse her memory?" Ron asked disbelievingly. "Doesn't sound like the girl I knew. She hated not knowing things."

Draco sighed as they walked around town together. "It's not that," he replied. "You knew her. What was she like back then?"

Ron rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Honestly? She hated you," he said. "You hated each other. I don't know what changed, or why you would choose to implant memories of yourselves as best friends. Hell, I didn't know it was possible to Obliviate the way we think you did."

Try as he might to take in what the redhead said, Draco had trouble processing the new information. He sat down and held his head in his hands. "We were never really friends?" he wondered.

Ron took a seat beside him and sighed. "Hermione...liked to keep her secrets," he said. "I'm wondering if maybe you were one of them. There's never been evidence to suggest that someone else did this to you, so it had to be the two of you who performed the spell. If you didn't already get along, I can't understand why you would choose to implant memories of friendship."

"Will we forget this?" he asked. "If we do go through with this, will we forget this life or the life we thought we had when we were younger?"

"No," Ron promised. "I mean, maybe the fake memories will be forgotten, but you'll remember your life after the memory charm was cast. Hermione and I were friends for a long time, and I know that she's loyal. The two of you seem to really love each other, and I don't think she'll leave you when the spell is reversed. What worries me is you, though." Blond brows rose questioningly. What could he possibly have been like that he would warrant such concern? Ron groaned, but continued. "There are statuses in our world. You're a pureblood, meaning you've got a purely magical lineage. Hermione's parents were muggles, or non-magical beings. A lot of purebloods, your family included, hate her kind."

"But I love her now," he insisted. "And she loves me. We'll get through this."

"The muggle who thinks she's been his best friend for eleven years loves her now," Ron countered. "Neither one of us knows what'll happen when you go back to being you. Everything could be fine, and I could be worrying about nothing. All I know is the Malfoy I knew would never accept halfblood children."

Standing, anger blazed inside of Draco. "You're wrong," he said before walking away. He jogged home to find Hermione reading to Clara. Out of breath, he knelt before her, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her as if he would never get to again. "I love you," he said when he pulled away.

Hermione closed the book and moved Clara from her lap. "I love you too," she replied, still startled by his show of affection. "What's gotten into you?"

"I just never want you to forget that," he murmured, getting to his feet. Picking up Clara, he took her seat beside her mother and held her. "That won't change. Whatever memories we have, my love for you will never change."

His eyes were pleading and pained, and she knew what he wanted. "You want to go back, don't you?" she asked. His gaze never wavered as he nodded. Sighing, she looked away. She could hear Clara's high voice ask him question and question, but Hermione tuned it out. She was not too proud to admit that going home scared her. It meant giving up the life she and Draco had struggled to build. It meant knowing that happy memories were not real.

"Mommy, pace a tension to me," Clara whined.

Without realizing it, Hermione began to laugh. "I'm sorry, baby," she said, kissing her daughter's round cheek. "I promise to always pay attention to you. Now, can you repeat your question?"

With a huff, she did as she was told. "I said to make Daddy tell me where we're going."

"We're going to go to England," Hermione told her. "It's where Daddy and I grew up, and why you think we sound so silly." Clara giggled, but still let it be known that she didn't understand why they were going.

"It's just a vacation," Draco said, hating himself for lying to his child. Accepting his answer, Clara wiggled out of his grasp and left for her room. "Did I do the wrong thing, telling her that?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think she'd understand the truth," she admitted. "I don't think I understand it either. Why are we so sure that they should be believed?"

"I trust Ron," Draco replied. "Although, I don't want to believe the things he's told me about who I was. I can't imagine hating you."

She held his hand tightly, fearful that they might someday let each other go. "You're sure this is what you want to do?" she asked. "We have a good life here. We're happy. Maybe it's better to keep things as they are."

"You're not the least bit curious?" he wondered. Looking down, she shrugged. "Are you worried that maybe you really did hate me?"

"I'm worried about a lot of things," she replied. "Ron's theory that we changed our own memories - if he's right and we hated each other, why would we do that? Or, if we did like one another, why would no one else know that? I know we'll remember the last five years, but what if the old memories do change something between us? This could hurt the kids, and that's the last thing in the world I want to have happen."

Try as he might, Draco seemed unable to get through to his wife. Letting go of her hand, he stood and left the living room. Alone, Hermione felt the urge to cry, but held her tears at bay. Never before had he walked away from her, especially not when she was voicing concerns and fears. It was unlike him to get upset over her feelings. But, she decided, if he intended to be mad, she would simply ignore him.

Entering the master bedroom, she was glad to find Liam as her only company. "You still love me, don't you?" she asked, easing him from the crib. Sitting down, she cradled her baby boy in her arms and attempted to earn a smile from the youngest Malfoy. After several failed tries, she gave up.

"He's too much like me," Draco declared, standing in the doorway. Hermione looked up, frowned, and returned her attention to her son. Sighing, he joined her, reclining beside her. "I'm sorry. Can I tell you what I think? Because what I think is maybe Ron's right. Maybe we did hate each other when we were kids, but we got over that. I think we loved each other, and that's why we did what we did."

"I really want you to be right," she murmured, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Draco kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, love. I'm always right."