A bright ray of sunshine woke Hermione from her blissful sleep, from the amazing dream she had been having. She was engulfed in warmth, something heavy draped over her middle. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking hard to adjust to the sunlight that had poured into the room. Turning her head, she was met with the slightly guarded gaze of Draco Malfoy. Apparently she had not been dreaming, for he was naked in her bed. She felt his body go stiff against hers as realisation dawned on her. Uncertainty filled his eyes, no sign of Occlumency in play.

"You're mine now." It was the last thing she had heard him say. The dull grey of his iris changed to molten silver as he smiled at her, drawing her in close to him. His lips found hers and time lost all meaning as she basked in Draco Malfoy's love. For although he had not said it, this could be nothing else but love. After all, he was hers and she would cherish him, repaying every smile, every caress, every kiss with one of her own.

Only when they separated did Hermione remember the double. "You- you are whole again." The thought that the double would not have joined them in bed did not even cross her mind, thus the reversal of the disengagement was the only logical conclusion.

"Not completely, no." His denial was followed by silent lip movements, liquid pooling between her legs. Slowly, he pushed into her, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Now I'm whole, Hermione ."

In the end, it had all been a big mishap caused by Anthony Goldstein, an experiment gone wrong. Since the outcome of this accident was Hermione Granger calling him his, Draco did not mind one bit. He might even take a liking to the blond git, might even send him a thank you card.

The way in which his and his double's memories had merged was complicated, but he valued every moment of it. When he had woken up the next morning, fused with his other self, Draco used the time to rearrange his mental filing cabinet, or more accurately: he added a mental library, dedicated entirely to Hermione Granger.

Collecting his files on Hermione, he bound them into soft leather, embossing a title on each volume. With open shelves, none were hidden away from sight, always on display. That was how he would keep her: close at hand. The memories of his disengagement were bound together in periwinkle blue leather, giving it a prominent place. On purpose, he left plenty of empty space, which he intended to fill with happy memories.