The two stood there, drinking in the sight of each other. Both of them had their wands raised, the names of defensive and offensive spells rolling around the tips of their tongues. Draco tried to keep his focus on Harry but was still distracted by the noise of the shower hoping more than anything that Hermione would stay in there for as long as this… conversation took.

Harry began to advance on Draco, slow and cautious, but still moving with a threatening purpose. Draco would not let himself be cornered and so he advanced too, his cold eyes narrowing and his posture lengthening itself to his full height. They both came within a few steps of each other and then halted, their wands still raised nearly touching the other wizards chest. If one of them were to send out a hex now it would have had an extremely negative effect on the man on the receiving end.

Draco's eyes darted about the room quickly looking for anything that might aid him. He searched for any quick exits he could make or furniture he could use for protection or as a weapon. There was hardly anything in the hotel and for some reason a lot of it was glued into place. Draco assumed that muggle's must get their kicks from trashing places like this.

All that could be heard was their breathing, the shower and Hermione occasionally humming. Harry finally spoke, "You're a sick git. I hope you know that."

"Pray tell Potter, whatever gave you that impression?" Draco drawled, his grip on his wand still tight, ready to attack if it was absolutely necessary.

Harry made a noise similar to that of a growl. Draco noticed Harry's wand was shaking and clocked that the tremors ran through his opponent's whole body. He was distracted by his anger, something they were told time and time to suppress throughout their years of training as Auror's. Despite Draco joining a year later than Harry, it seemed he was the calmer of the two. Draco realised he could use this to his advantage. Harry was filled with rage and that would make him sloppy. Draco just had to stay focused.

"You're a perverted, twisted thing aren't you? Not only have to lied to Gawain, but you've also used this whole plot of 'trying not to damage anyone' as a ploy to fulfil your own sick fantasies. And to think when Ron was worried of your intentions I disagreed with him and praised your method of going about things, but now-,"

"What Potter? You thought I was just getting close to her to figure out what's happened? I admit that was my original intention but she's quite incredible, in case you hadn't noticed. Of course I'm actually interested in her. I'm not using her, but the job comes first."

Harry laughed but it sounded wrong. Low and broken. "If the job had come first you would have brought her back last month when you arrived."

"As I just said, Potter, I first attempted to get close to her in order to make this less damaging for her and her friends and to figure out who did this." Draco spoke slowly but firmly. Glancing back over to the door that Hermione was behind. The shower was still running. He could still hear her singing softly. He had time.

"I don't have an issue with you dating her," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes when Draco gave him a look of disbelief, "Well okay, I do. A bit. A lot. But it's Hermione's choice and when she gets her memories back I will support whatever choice she makes. But right now, she is not completely Hermione and she is not completely consenting to all of this. If you dare touch her I will have you shoved in Azkaban for not only being a Death Eater, but for taking advantage of the next in line to be the Minister for Magic when she was unable to voice her complete consent."

Draco rolled his eyes at the boy, anger boiling from being accused of essentially planning to rape Hermione. His voice lowered and his wand moved forward, the tip of it digging into Harry's chest, "Now you listen Potter and you listen good," He spat, "I did not come to Australia with the intention of harming your precious princess. On the contrary, I had planned for this to all be over very quickly, but I find myself quite taken with Hermione. I will not have you swanning in here and fucking it up. Nor will I take advantage of her while she does not remember me. I will not stay away from her but I will respect her boundaries. When she gets her memory back and tells you that she cares for me I assure you I will kick your arse for ever doubting that I would be anything other than professional on this case."

"And if she tells me she feels violated by a man that was supposed to be helping her?"

"I am helping her, but if she says that then you can kick my arse and I will resign."

They were both silent for a moment. Harry began to lower his wand and Draco grinned smugly, ensuring his hair was still slicked back and his clothes were still precise.

"That's what I thought. Now if you don't mind Potter, get the fuck out. I have a very important guest in that shower thinking about me and all the fun we're going to have tonight and I will not have you ruin the mood." Draco laughed haughtily and then realised he probably should have just kept his mouth shut while he was ahead.

Harry yelled, "Confringo," and Draco had to quickly drop to the floor and roll as a jet of green flashed past him and into the wall. The spell crashed into the brick and fragments of rock, paint and wall paper coated the room, the dust travelling into the air. Draco's breaths became shallower as he desperately tried not to breathe the debris into his lungs. He decided to prolong his retaliation, letting Harry fire out another hex – Flipendo – and darting out the way of it, taking refuge behind the arm of the sofa. The coffee table was in reach and his arm dashed out quickly, grabbing the wine bottle. Draco peaked up over the sofa just enough to judge his aim and then lobbed it at Harry's head. It fell short hitting his shoulder. Harry faltered slightly and Draco used this as his chance to leap over from behind the sofa.

Whilst Harry was distracted Draco whispered, "Petrificus Totalus," and the former's body locked together and fell to the floor. He knelt by the brown-haired boy, reminiscing of a time long ago when he had done a similar thing whilst still at Hogwarts, and addressed him, "Okay Potter you've had your fun. I am going to fix the wall, heal your arm, release you from this hex and then I expect you to leave quietly."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment longer, hoping the message had registered in his head before turning to face the wall. He focused his attention on the slabs of brick and paint and waved his wand at each of them, whispering, "Reparo," and watched as they all slotted back into place. There was an odd crack because it wasn't easy to use that spell on large objects but the lines in the wall were not all that noticeable. He made his way back over to Harry and crouched by his shoulder, examining the injury. It was hardly bleeding and would probably just be a bit bruised for a while if anything. Draco uttered, "Episkey," and observed the wound as the skin moulded back together. Draco nodded at it and stood, releasing Harry from his binds.

Harry stared at Draco incredulously, "Why did you do that?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "It's hardly going to look good for either of us if Gawain finds out we had a duel in a muggle hotel."

"But years ago you would have left me for dead."

"That was years ago, now if you don't mind-,"

"Draco?"

Draco's whole body tensed and he winced at the sound of Hermione's voice. His back was towards her and he assumed she hadn't seen his wand so he quickly slid it up his sleeve and rolled his shoulders back, straightening up again. He did not look at her, but turned his head slightly so that she knew he was talking to her, "Go into the bedroom, Hermione."

She faltered in the door way, staring at Harry with wide, unblinking eyes. Her mind tried to connect the dots but came up blank, only showing her a very fuzzy image of her and him with another red-headed boy all very young standing on a giant chess set. She moved forward, walking into the room to assess the situation. Draco sighed angrily as he heard her footsteps come closer. At least, if anything, Draco would get some pleasure out of Harry seeing his best friend swamped in a Slytherin jersey.

Harry cringed at her outfit and glared at Draco, before returning his gaze back to his friend. Despite her state of undress she looked well. She looked happy. She was glowing, actually. It was such a change from the last time Harry had seen her, still run down and paranoid from the aftermath of the war. Out of the three of them Hermione had been affected the most. She never opened up to them about the torture from Bellatrix, or having to obliviate her parents or the night she had accidentally killed Susan Bones, thinking she was a Death Eater. They knew she had killed more people too, on the opposing side and on their own but she preferred to mourn these deaths in peace. Sometimes allies became confused with enemies. Sometimes you knocked down your opponent only to realise you had sat next to them in potions for three years and didn't even know their name. Hermione had suffered with the guilt the most, not being able to move on from all those lives she had taken. Even when she killed Theodore Nott's father, she still felt horrible for it, even though he would have killed her had she of faltered.

She had even come back to camp one day sobbing and shaking about a particularly nasty curse she had used on Draco Malfoy. The one that was thick, jagged and unhealed on his left side. She had gotten her pronunciation of a spell mixed up and somehow caused a large chuck of the left side of his hip to burst from his body. It had erupted from his skin and come to rest in her hand. Hermione had shrieked, throwing it to the ground suddenly in disgust, moving to turn away from him and re-join the battle.

But Hermione stopped and turned to look back on the boy she had once been at school with and her heart ached. Draco's legs were flailing as he tried to haul himself up from the mud but couldn't, the blood leaking from the wound was coming fast and raw and dark. Despite him being on the opposing side as her and the two of them being in the middle of battle she rushed over to his side. She had read enough books on healing magic to know what to do. Hermione shrunk the large fragment of his hip, fitting it into place before enlarging it again and fusing it to the bone around it. She trailed her wand across it delicately, making small stitching motions in the hope it would meld together and luckily, it did. She then began working on the skin over his hip but it was messy, as more Death Eater's were advancing on them. She knew she didn't have long.

All the while she was attempting to save his life she was crying and apologising and sobbing. Draco didn't even remember it was her until later. She had opened her purse that she kept slung across her body and pressed something to his head – a portkey. It took him to a hospital in the south of England that was run by volunteers. They were never told what side the people were on when they showed up to remain unbiased and save as many lives as possible. Despite the dark mark on his arm, an obvious sign of the side he was fighting for, and the way he was quickly kicked out when he had recovered they had still saved him. No, Hermione had saved him… and nearly killed him, he supposed. But she had come back to save him instead of just leaving him there.

He had never thanked her for it. She had never brought it up. Draco wondered if that was the catalyst of all these feelings. Maybe he had cared for her then, but was unsure how to show it. Besides, there was only so much you could go through with someone before they ended up weaving their way into your life and making a home there permanently. They had certainly terrorised each other enough but then, during the war, despite them being enemies they always seemed to be looking out for each other. It wasn't because of any romantic feelings then, but simply because they knew each other. They had put each other through so much. They were school mates, peers, people, human beings. Above all others they had a connection, Hogwarts. Hogwarts was their home. Hermione always tried to look out for people she had been at school with, as did Draco and everyone else their age. After all, it would be their generation who would attempt to rebuild this world.

"I know you," Hermione whispered, still staring at Harry, "I've dreamt about you. But something's missing."

Harry didn't know what to say in response. His mouth opened and closed and his eyes darted towards Draco who glared at him as if to say, 'You should have left when I told you to.'

"Yes Hermione. You know me. And I know you." Harry responded vaguely. Hermione nodded and then yawned sleepily, her arms and shoulders stretching out to remove the weariness from them. She glanced over at Draco and giggled at him. He raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively.

"You can't really be threatening when you're still covered in ice cream Draco so stop staring at me with that bossy expression. It was nice to meet you, Harry." And with that she strolled back into the bedroom, the two men staring after her.

"I never even told her my name," Harry murmured, the ghost of a smile on his face. He looked back over at Draco and his smile faltered. He sighed, and turned to him, "Look maybe I was a bit quick to judge. It's hard to forget years of hatred. I do not trust you yet, but when we get her back home, if she still wants you in her life then so be it. I will support her."

Draco nodded and crossed his arms, hoping Harry would now finally leave and when he did Draco smirked and shut the door firmly behind him rejoicing in the fact that Hermione hadn't seen him mid-duel and that Harry hadn't killed him. He strided to the bedroom and saw Hermione in the bed, sitting up, the sheets loosely covering her hips and legs. She smiled up at him and he climbed into his side, pulling her against him. The two were facing each other, Hermione tracing patterns on to his clothed chest with her fingers.

"Aren't you going to put something more comfortable on?" She questioned. He raised his eyebrows at her and smiled boyishly, flashing all his straight pearly white teeth before tugging his shirt, pants and socks off, leaving him in just his boxers.

"Better?"

She hummed in appreciation, "Quite," and then returned her fingers to his chest, retracing her earlier pattern. He tried to focus on the shapes or letters she was spelling out, but found the trail of pleasure her finger was leaving in its wake was too distracting. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and burying his face into her neck, tracing kisses from just below her ear down to her collarbone and then up again. "I've dreamt of you too," She whispered and Draco hummed against her skin, willing her to continue.

"Sometimes I'm at a ball, and you're with a girl with short black hair, and you're staring at me with this confused but awed look on your face. Sometimes I dream we dance together there, but other times I dream I'm with that boy out there and a red-headed guy too." Her voice is laced with emotion and Draco can feel her swallow against his lips as he plants kisses across her throat, "I'm afraid, Draco. These dreams are so real and now the people in them are showing up. I know something isn't right. I can see it in the way Lisa looks at me sometimes, like I'm saying strange things or not making sense. But I'm intelligent. I'm a bright girl. It doesn't make sense for me to not make sense."

"I think you make sense."

"What I'm trying to say, Draco, is that I don't feel strange when you're here." She whispered again, pulling his head to hers. He breathed in her scent as he rose, the aroma filling his nostrils and he moaned, planting his lips against hers softly before moving back to look at her. Hermione's eyes were wide, filled with unshed tears. The moisture made them glitter and shine and her lips were still swollen from his earlier kisses. He nudged his nose against hers and her whole body went warm, filled with a feeling she recognised but doesn't yet want to reveal, "I feel normal when you're with me Draco. I feel right."

Draco brought his hands up to her face, gently brushing away the few tears that had slipped during her sleepy confessions and stroked his thumb against her cheek. He finally counted her freckles, attempting to kiss each one.

"You're not normal Hermione," He murmured back, "You're magical."

She sighed in contentment and entwined their legs together. Draco had never felt so in tune with someone's thoughts and feelings before. If he concentrated hard enough he could push out his aura to caress hers. She shivered, revelling in the heat and fire that engulfed her. He knew she didn't realise what she was doing, but he feels her magical aura bursting from her too, entwining with Draco's in a way that says: I'm yours. I'm here. Always.

"You bring out the magic in me," She said, and softly presses her lips against his.

A/N: Wow, thanks to everyone who has followed, reviewed and favourited. This is the first time I've done something like this, so I know the writing is a little rough sometimes. Occasionally I'll switch from past and present tense and that's something I'm still working on. Please point out to me any errors if you see them so I can correct them. I usually update this at around one/two in the morning where I am, so getting a post out at nine at night is pretty good for me! Hope you all enjoy it as it continues to unfold!