Draco was glad of the stillness that the corridor offered, hoping that it might lend some clarity to his thoughts which had been a screaming, delirious mess since the run-in with his father. His house had taken on an Azkaban like quality and he'd tiptoed around as though his father would appear, dementor-like and suck the very soul out of him. His mother - despite great attempts to outmanoeuvre her - had still managed to find him. Her shaking hands had reached out to him in a hopeful bridging of the gap that had gaped open between them as soon as his father's spell had hit. He could still easily bring to mind her gaze, always sad and regretful, attempting to take back all that was said, done and not done - because she had done nothing. Of course, she'd intervened just as the pain had been getting unbearable and he was grateful for that, but when her hastened steps had found their way to his door and she'd pulled the mess of hurt he'd become off the floor, there was no retribution in her eyes and no comforting mention of them abandoning his father to his torturing ways and finding somewhere safe. Even when he'd begun furiously packing his clothes, babbling about getting out from under the suffocating hold of the name Malfoy, she'd simply flicked her wrist and set every item back in its place, not so much as a wrinkle to suggest that they had ever moved. Staring into the emptiness of his case he'd realised that she saw no way out for them. As soon as the thought had entered his mind, she had confirmed it.

"We will never be safe, not while the Dark Lord lives."

For a fitful, naïve moment he'd dreamed of killing the wizard himself, wrapping his hands around the neck of the shadow that had always darkened their lives and squeezing all the blackness away. It would be final and muggle, a spit in the face for all the crap he'd had to face in the name of a phantom he'd never even met let alone genuinely considered following. He thought about the freedom it would give him, opening up a world of choices, where he could be who he wanted, talk to who he pleased and love, by merlin's name, whoever he fancied, regardless of the purity of their blood. Those thoughts, however, had quickly evaporated, a healthy dose of reality reminding him that there was little to nothing that he could do. He hadn't wanted any part in his parent's war; what little hatred he had mustered over the years had been nothing but childish spite, aimed at a boy who seemed to have all the options and love in spite of having nothing, being nothing. Still, somehow, he found himself embroiled in it all, having decisions about his life whisked out of his hands before he'd even had a chance to appreciate them.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was a whisper as she stepped out of the darkness, bushy hair framed by the torchlight, grey cardigan wrapped tight around her as she slightly leaned to one side to accommodate the weight of the knitted bag slung over her shoulder, strap stretched to within an inch of its woollen life. She smiled shyly, attempting to tuck a mass of curls behind her ear, only to have to it spring out of place almost immediately. Draco stepped forward, slipping his arm around her waist and tugging her close, all questions silenced as he pressed his mouth against hers. It felt like filling out his skin again, breathing in the present. The world once again felt like it was full of wonderful things that he could enjoy like, hot chocolate and the fact that in spite of everything, Hermione Granger, wanted him. She whined almost cutely, the scrape of her fingernails against his scalp scouring his mind clean of everything bad, there was just this, just them.

"I missed you." He mumbled the words into her neck, hoping that she wouldn't really hear them because they made him feel incredibly weak, but he drew strength from the fact that she was the one stable thing in his life that he could trust. Even their tumultuous relationship had always had a certain reliability to it as if them falling out was just the way it was. And she was always so unflinchingly, unfalteringly Granger. His mother's warning was now just a faint echo of something that no longer mattered, not when she was so good and held him so tightly, pressing herself in closely and breathing him in.

"I missed you too." He smiled, kissing her again, lingering over her bottom lip and gently guiding her to the wall. He allowed his bag to slip off his shoulder and land on the floor with a loud clunk, stepping into her space and pressing himself flush against her, loving the way she tugged him closer, lifting herself onto her tiptoes to close the non-existent space between them. Gently he pushed back her cardigan, hands finding the hem of her shirt and lifting it, grinning at the sharp intake of breath and the warmth of her skin against his cold fingers. He was sent reeling back to Christmas night, the plushness of the sofa, the feel of her thighs beneath his palm as she'd rocked into him, small dainty hand pressed against his chest to either feel his heartbeat or hold the distance between them, he couldn't tell. He longed to go back in time but settled for trailing his thumb down the length of her spine, smirking as she arched into him.

"Granger."

At the sound of her name, she pulled back, pushing at his shoulders with conviction and looking up at him all flushed and out of breath.

"I know I say this all the time, but we really need to talk." Draco groaned, trying to muscle in closer, huffing in frustration when she wouldn't budge, her hold all the more determined with every attempt. "Come on, Malfoy, last time we didn't go over anything." He stepped back slightly raising one blonde eyebrow.

"And who's fault was that?" He stifled a chuckle as Hermione's mouth fell open.

"You weren't exactly putting up a fight," her reply was spluttered and coupled with an endearing reddening of her cheeks.

"Didn't get a chance, once you got those Gryffindor claws in me…ow." He couldn't believe that he was laughing, but he was, stifling it quickly with his hand so the ringing sound of it through the corridors didn't give them away.

"Are you going to make fun of me all night, or are we actually going to do something useful?"

"Well, I did have a few ideas of what we could do." He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned when she scowled, turning on her heel and heading towards their secret room. "Come on Granger, you know you enjoy it."

"That's beside the point. There's so much we need to discuss, not least of which is all the things we found, and the fact that we destroyed a magical monument."

He found it mildly hilarious that, given everything that had happened in the meantime, he'd somewhat forgotten about the destruction of a few thousand-year-old Manor. He understood that Hermione's intention over Christmas had been to pick apart the mystery, chopping and pasting it together till it all made sense. His reason for the visit hadn't been so mystery orientated, but rather more to do with spending time with Hermione. He'd been pleasantly surprised when Hermione had seemed as reluctant as he was to keep her hands to herself. It was inevitable though that, at some point, Hermione Granger's curiosity would win out and she would put her foot down, frustratingly it only made him want her more.

"I don't think anyone noticed that." He shrugged, nearly bumping into her when she stopped suddenly, yanking a crumpled page of a newspaper out of her bag and thrusting it towards him. He took it gingerly, holding it back to take in the weeping face of Mural; white fluffy hair, too-close-together beady eyes over a large startingly hooked nose, as she pointed to the large pile of rubble behind her which, Draco assumed, was all that remained of Masarvas Manor.

"The magical world is shocked to its very core by the malicious act of vandalism that has brought the historic Masarvas Manor down."

"How many times have you read this?" Draco queried, glancing at Hermione's face over the top of the article as she reeled off the first few lines.

"A few times, they think we are working for…" she peered around the corridor, shuffling forwards and whispering harshly in his face, "they think we are working for Sirius Black" Draco almost found the whole situation laughable but guarded his features due to the severe look on Hermione's face.

"Well that's good, isn't it? They obviously aren't ever going to suspect us."

"That's not the point, we…this is about us, we did this." She jabbed her finger right over Mural's face, blotting out the wailing old witch for a second.

"Technically, technically, we didn't do anything. Great nasty stone giants that were a result of ancient dark magic did most of this, we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"We woke them up." Hermione worried her bottom lip in the way she did when he was being mildly convincing.

"Not on purpose. I mean, we're still not even sure how that happened. They could have started wondering around all on their own regardless of our input." Hermione raised her eyebrow in disbelief, snorting sardonically.

"Of course, they just coincidently woke up when we happened to go there."

"Why not?"

"Because that's ridiculous and you know it."

"What's ridiculous is you not letting me kiss you." Hermione huffed, glaring at him, before taking the article back and stuffing it in her bag.

"This is serious."

"Look, Granger, what we did, it was important and that place," Draco shivered as he remembered the cold creeping chill of the Manor set against the darkness of the night, "it wasn't good. Think about what happened there." Her shoulders slumped as if finally admitting defeat and letting him convince her.

"I know, I just…when I think of all those things that got destroyed, all that history. There could have been answers there, real answers and now, we'll never know."

"There's still the memories, Granger."

Neither of them could deny it, as soon as they'd walked back into Hogwarts it was as if they were wrapped in the magic of the Sensieve. For a worrying moment, Draco had been convinced that the bowl would suck them into another memory right in the presence of all those gathered in the Great Hall. He wasn't sure how either of them would go about explaining that little gem, strange things happened at Hogwarts, granted, but it was very rare that student decided to disappear into thin air without warning. Hermione nodded slightly, fingering the pink wool of her bag and tracing the zig-zag pattern down its strap.

"I thought we'd have more an idea of what this all means."

"Come on Granger, you and I both know that magic doesn't work like that." He pulled his bag up off the floor, wincing a little at the weight. Hermione had insisted that they bring all artefacts pertaining to the memories with them on their little excursion, clearly not understanding the ridiculous weight of Edwards daggers. Draco still had no idea how the man had wielded them so effortlessly.

"But there was so much there, old spells, books, scrolls, memories. If we'd had more time…"

"Then we'd have been knee-deep in a bunch of historical documents that I doubt would have made much sense to either of us."

"Speak for yourself." Hermione scoffed, as they began to lazily walk down the corridor, hands brushing against one another gently before their fingers intertwined. Draco looked at their joined hands, quickly looking away as a smile tugged at corners of his mouth. He wondered if she had any idea how much these moments meant to him, how much they made him forget everything else.

"I don't suppose you've read the book of Maygeek? Close thine eyes to the world, see your maygeek as a light and other twoddle." He mumbled, quickly pulling the small book out his bag and waving it under her nose.

"If you recall, I was the one that translated it for you."

"After a fashion but come on, this is a beginners guide, imagine having to read anything remotely technical."

"Well for intelligent people I imagine that it would be a worthy challenge."

"Such a shame we can't talk to them about it, huh." Hermione hit him on the arm, stepping closer so their arms brushed in a burst Sensieve magic.

"A shame for you maybe."

Draco grinned at her before digging in his bag for a book that he quickly transfigured into a length of robe, wrapping it around the wooden banister that lead down into the darkness. He realised that he and Hermione had never ventured further down the stone steps to see what lay beyond the hidden Memoria Luxareo. With a sigh he kept the thought to himself, knowing that Hermione would be determined to find out the mysteries at the bottom of the stairwell immediately and while he had enjoyed spending more time with her, he wasn't inclined to getting himself into any more potentially dangerous situations.

He pushed his palm against the small engraving and watched as the stairs opened up to them once again. No matter how many times he and Hermione visited the room he was always struck by how different things were between them from the very first accidental finding. He climbed down into the darkness, lighting the end of his wand quickly and checking that all was as they had left it. Hermione had taken to using the Memoria as a convenient store for the many books she'd found that she thought might tell them something useful about the memories they were seeing. Though he'd only joked about it before, the small space was beginning to look a little like an extension of the library and the fitting of shelves was looking to be a necessity.

"I think Madame Pince is going to get a little suspicious if you bring any more books down here."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," Hermione shrugged, moving to shimmy herself down the rope.

"My point is she might notice when she has no books left to guard." He held out his hands, palms against Hermione's hips to steady her as she dropped into the room, stumbling into him a little.

"I er…" She was looking up at him again, slightly dazed for a second before she cleared her throat and stepped away, "You know your hyperbolic statements aren't as witty as you think they are," the sound of her bag hitting the floor served as an exclamation to her statement. She knelt quickly and began taking items out and placing them on the floor in front of her.

Draco whistled, "Cracking out the long words just to impress me, Granger? I've got to say, it's doing the trick." He grinned as Hermione rolled her eyes and pinned him with a stare.

"Will you help me?"

"Fine, fine, what are we doing?"

"We are putting everything we've found out, just to…just to…" she pulled Mina's wand out of her bag, turning it in her hands slowly as she examined the detail, "just to figure out what we know."

"Right, and that's going to what exactly?"

"I don't know, there might be something we've overlooked or, or…look will you just do it?"

"Fine, fine." He held up his hands, placing his bag next to hers and kneeling. With care, that was a little redundant considering the way he'd dropped his bag in lieu kissing her only minutes earlier, he placed each item in a row on the floor. Firstly it was his ancestor's wand, placed gently on the floor next to its own, its black surface shimmering in the light of Lumos. Next came the book, it and the wand finally reunited side by side on the floor. He didn't like to admit it, but sometimes he found his mind wandering to thoughts of Scorpius, the unknown saviour of Edward who had been a Malfoy just like him. He thought about him bent over his book of spells, practising casting, not knowing that one day his magic would save a muggle, that would somehow change the course of the future for two unsuspecting enemies.

With a shake of his head, he pushed away such thoughts, mind-bendingly incomprehensible as they were, and focused on the daggers, the stones fixed into the hilts making the bag glow. He set them side by side, hilt to blade. Draco knew that they were old, but to look at them, the two weapons did not look as though they'd aged since Edward used them, although the stones were a new touch. It was ridiculous that sometimes he found himself reluctant to touch them feeling as though they were some sort of conduit to the past that would bring Edward screaming before him; all those feelings and all those memories would become apart of him and not fade with the Sensieve.

"So, what do we know?" Hermione crossed her legs, straightening her back and staring almost resolutely at each of the gathered items in turn.

"That thousands of years muggle related hatred is down to a spell going wrong," Draco commented, leaning back on his hands and watching as Hermione picked up his ancestor's wand and turned it in her fingers.

"Well, yes," she paused, blinking at him as if the meaning of his words had just hit her, never had Mina and Edward's story felt so intricately intertwined with their own, "but what else, maybe if we work out what we know, then we can figure out why I keep getting kicked out of the memories."

"What about Obliviate, that seemed pretty logical."

"But what did she forget and why?"

"Seems pretty obvious to me," he shrugged, thinking of his lessons with Snape, casually picking up one of the books Hermione had stashed, flicking through it. He hadn't wiped things entirely from his mind, but he'd found a way to block them out, make sure that no one could get a hold of them. He supposed that given how powerful old magic had proven itself to be Obliviate would be the safer option.

"What?" He glanced up faltering a little at the look of confusion of her face.

"Do you…do you really not know?" He smirked as Hermione crossed her arms in displeasure refusing to look at him, he could only imagine how much it was bugging her not to have worked something out herself. "Has this ever happened to you before?"

"That doesn't matter, what matters is that you're going to tell me."

"Oh I don't know, it's not really all that important is it?"

"Don't you dare," Hermione spat, her nostrils flaring.

"Don't dare what?"

"This isn't funny, Malfoy."

"On the contrary, I think it's hilarious." He laughed, quickly lifting his hands as Hermione brandished one of her large books over her head, ready to reign down as many blows as it took to get the information out of him. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you, just put the book down." He gently took her wrist, pulling the book from her grasp and setting it down beside them.

"Will you just tell me?"

"Fine, but first, come on don't look at me like that," with a sigh she sat down next to him, arms pressed close together.

"Okay, okay, first what?"

"What reason would you have to use the spell?"

"I don't like how patronising you're being."

"Annoying when you're on the receiving end, huh?"

"I am not patronising."

"Of course you aren't," Draco assured her sarcastically, dodging yet another blow, "aren't we getting a little off track here. Just answer the question."

"Well I wouldn't use it, there's just too much that could go wrong, I mean you're effectively re-writing your own or even someone else's mind. Don't you think that's just a tad too risky."

"Okay, but hypothetically, say that you had to, say that there was no other choice?"

"Right."

"What would be your reason for using it?" Hermione glanced at him, searching his eyes for the answer. He thought about his reason for using such as spell; wiping all trace of her from his mind so that it could never be used against them. His heart ached at the thought of no longer knowing her and all that she meant to him. He imagined that if Mina had used such a spell then she would have lived with an open space within her and no idea how to fill it.

"Well I suppose, if I had to use it I would do it to protect a…" Hermione's eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face, "oh my god how could I have been so stupid, she was protecting a secret."

"What secret?" Hermione deflated almost as quickly as she had gotten excited, slumping down next to him.

"I don't know but, maybe it was to protect Edward. We know that Arden and his followers caught them, maybe there was something that she couldn't risk them finding."

"Like the fact that they were getting it on."

"Urgh, grow up," Hermione pulled a face, hitting him lightly.

"But where's the fun in that?"

"Whatever she wanted to hide it must have been important. I know how she felt about Edward, she would have done anything for him."

Draco turned to Hermione, the tip of his nose almost brushing hers. "Yeah." With slow deliberate movements, he brushed the curls from off her face and pressed his lips against hers, thinking that he would do anything for her, anything at all, but he would rather not forget how she tasted.

"Malfoy we still…" Her protests were weak, and it wasn't too long before she sighed, sinking into him, fingers curling into his jumper as she gripped his shoulders, letting him gently push her down onto the floor. He hovered over her, his whole body nearly shaking as the Sensieve's magic erupted within him, centring around every little connection and spreading between them. If he had been in his right mind, he would have died at the needy sound that emanated from the back of his throat, but he was far too distracted by the cool press of Hermione's palm against his back as she slipped her hand down the back of his collar.

One thing that shocked him more than anything, though he supposed it shouldn't of, was how incredibly brave Hermione was. At Christmas she had been the one to undo his tie, his shirt soon following, her hands exploring him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Even now in the dimness of the small room, he could make out a little smirk curling her lip invitingly. She was pulling him down and he followed her insistence with pleasure, letting his lips melt onto hers. He thought absently at how dangerous things must have gotten for Mina, to warrant her wiping something so drastically from her life, he couldn't imagine there being a time where the danger would warrant eradicating Hermione out of his life, she was too good, too right.

The Sensieve seemed to creep up on them this time, awkwardly interrupting them like some unsuspecting stranger that had just happened to stumble across them. Hermione's hand which was up the front of his shirt, twitched as she turned her head to the side letting out a small 'Oh' as the room melted away and they were pulled into the foggy world of the Sensieve.