28. Chapter 28

Hello all! I know it hasn't been a week yet, but I just like all of you so much that I gave you this update early.

Disclaimer: I've literally done this disclaimer on every chapter. It doesn't change.

Oh also, I've been going back into previous chapters to correct grammar mistakes that were missed. So if you notice a little difference in a chapter, that's all it is. The plot will not be changed at all.

Carry on.

Draco stared at the newspaper in disbelief. His brain was scrambling to make sense of it. How had this happened? Sure, him and Hermione and been rather involved on the Quidditch Pitch, but they would've noticed if a crazy bitch came up with a camera.

Draco looked up. Everyone was watching him, with expressions ranging from happiness (Narcissa) to white hot rage (Weasel). Draco shot a look at Hermione. She was paler than normal, but besides that, she seemed to be handling this fairly well. She met his eye. They exchanged a look, which didn't go un-noticed by the other patrons at the table.

"Well, Malfoy?" Potter spat, venom in his voice. Draco was taken aback. He expected Weasel to be angry, but not Potter. However, Potter was sending daggers his way. Sometimes he really hated the overprotective brotherly side of Potter.

"Well, what?" was his only response.

"So it's true?" asked Weaslette. Merlin, even her voice was annoying.

Draco gave her an annoyed look. "What do you think, princess?" Weaslette's eyes immediately narrowed.

"You bastard," Weasel snarled. Here we go. "We trust you with Hermione, who's more precious to us than you'll ever know. Then, you betray us all. I knew you hadn't changed."

Draco fought a strange desire to laugh. He was just thinking of a witty response when Hermione butted in.

"I'm not a child, Ron. I can take care of myself perfectly fine. I don't need anyone to babysit me. Draco didn't pressure me or anything close to that. I can make my own choices. And I did. You're just mad because my choice was Draco."

And that's when Weasel lost his shit.

"All of your choices are stupid Hermione! They always have been! And take care of yourself? You can't take care of yourself for shit."

Hermione turned red, but shouted right back at him.

"I've been taking care of myself for seven years! I had no memory, no life, no family, no friends, nothing! And it was hard, but I did it! I can take care of myself pretty goddamn well, you dick!"

Weasel just laughed nastily. "You can't take care of yourself! If you did, why would you have to go running to pretty boy Potter every time something went wrong!"

Potter blanched considerably at this, while Weaslette went red with anger. Weasel didn't notice.

"And your choices are pretty shitty as well. Your choices got your parents killed!" Fleur gasped. "And if it wasn't for your inability to take care of yourself, you wouldn't have disappeared in the first place!"

Hermione gasped. "I was kidnapped!"

Weasel snorted. "Who was the idiot walking around Hogsmeade drunk at two am?"

That's when Potter stepped in. And boy, did he look angry.

"In case you don't remember, Ron, you had something to do with that."

Weasel gave Potter a glare that would make grown men cry. "All I remember is my girlfriend going to a different man's house at midnight."

Draco had been watching this entire argument somewhat distractedly until then. Hermione was doing fine yelling by herself, so Draco had been trying to figure out how Rita got that picture. But at Weasel's words, he came popping back into reality.

Potter was white with rage. "She came to my house because she was my best friend, nothing more."

Weasel was about to say something, but Hermione interrupted. Her face matched the colour of Gryffindor house.

"Shut the fuck up, you bastards! I don't remember either of you, and therefore, by my logic, you have no right to control my life. If I want to make out with Draco then I will! If I want to have crazy monkey sex with him, I'll be damned if you stop me!"

Potter blanched even more. He was nearly translucent. "You had sex with Draco?"

Hermione huffed. "You didn't hear me at all did you?"

Potter just glared. Draco heard a sigh from behind them, and turned to see Kingsley scratching his head.

"Listen you two," Kingsley started, speaking to Potter and Weasel. "Hermione has a right to be involved with anyone she wants. What I'm more interested in is how Skeeter managed to get a picture of it, and find out about the memory loss."

Potter rolled his eyes. "She's an animagus, remember? A beetle. She must have been bugging around."

Draco could've slapped himself. "There was a beetle, when I was talking to Hagrid about Hermione's memory loss."

Kingsley nodded. "And if she saw you two….being involved…she could have used that new technique of using a pensieve to photograph the memory to get the picture without you two noticing."

"Bitch," Hermione muttered. Draco smirked, and walked back over to her side. With the eyes of everyone on them, he took her hand. She didn't resist.

Kinglsey recovered from the silence that followed first. "Even though Draco and Hermione's endeavors are interesting, I'm much more concerned with the fact that the public now knows about Hermione's memory loss."

Draco sighed. "It's not the worst thing in the world, is it?"

Kingsley put on a grim face. "It depends. You know that they deliver newspapers to Azkaban now, right?"

Draco shrugged. He had a vague memory of his mother bringing newspapers to see Lucius.

Kingsley continued.

"If by chance the attacker is still alive, he'll be in Azkaban. So, even by tonight, if he's sane, he'll know that we've found Hermione, and we can't get her memories back unless he helps out. Otherwise, we would've gotten them already. He'll call a deal. We get the memories. He'll get his freedom."

Weasel spoke up. "We still have other options to get her memory back."

Draco replied. "We don't."

"I would never give a death eater their freedom," Potter snarled.

Kingsley looked the boy who lived straight in the eye. "For Hermione back? Harry, you'd give your life."

Potter opened his mouth to argue, but he hesitated. Draco knew it was true. Potter would give anything for Hermione. When it came to the people that Potter loved, there were no boundaries. In year five, Potter had thought his godfather was in danger, and ran straight to Voldemort. He loses rationality when it comes to love. Everyone does.

Potter looked up. "It's Hermione."

Kingsley sighed. "We know." Kingsley turned to Draco. "Draco, could you leave Hermione with Ginny? You, Harry and I need to talk."

Weasel shouted out. "What about me?"

Kingsley sighed. "I know you care about Hermione too, Ron. But you work in a joke shop. I'm the minister, Harry's a leading auror, and Draco knows more about this case than everyone else combined."

Weasel turned red, but it was too late. Draco handed Hermione off to Weaslette; they were best girlfriends, this would be a good chance for them to catch up. Potter, Kingsley and Draco all headed into the burrow and into the living room.

Kingsley stood, Potter leaned against the fireplace, and Draco, seeing no other option, sat on the couch.

Kingsley looked at him, and gestured. Draco understood the meaning, and quickly filled Potter in on what he had discovered at Hogwarts.

Potter listened closely as Draco explained how the memory block worked. When Draco had finished, Potter stared blankly at Draco for several seconds before responding.

"So Hermione protected some of her memories?"

Draco nodded.

"So we can only get all of her memories back if we get some bastard to do it."

"Bingo," Draco replied.

Potter stared at a spot on the floor for several moments. He looked up, and Draco saw a flash of hurt in his eyes before they went cold.

"She saved the memory of hitting you in the face, but nothing about me and Ron?"

Draco shrugged. "It was a really good punch, but you make a good point. I talked to Hermione about it, and we tried to figure out the pattern."

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Was this before or after you guys almost had sex on the Quidditch pitch?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but continued, unperturbed. "Before. So, anyway, Hermione thinks that she wouldn't have picked the memories at random. She thinks there must be a connection between them. Oh yeah!"

"What?" Kingsley asked.

Draco nearly smacked himself in the face. "She remembered something else."

Potter swore. "You need to keep us more up to date."

"What was it?" asked Kingsley, leaning forward.

Draco stared at his feet. He was way too ashamed, but he spoke anyway. "The first time I called her a mudblood."

Potter held up his hand. "Before or after?"

Draco huffed. "Right before."

Potter looked at him with a dubious expression. "And she still made out with you?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm awesome." Potter rolled his eyes, but Draco could still see some of the hurt.

Kingsley stared at the two of them. "I hate to say it, but finding out who did this is our only option. Otherwise she's never going to get her memories back."

Potter stared at Kingsley for a few minutes before responding. "Is that such a bad thing?"

Draco's jaw dropped. "Of course it is, dipshit."

Potter looked at him, squarely in the eye. "Hermione's life hasn't exactly been easy, Malfoy. None of ours have. I don't want to remember the war, or Sirius, of Lupin, or all the people I've lost. Why should I make Hermione? She'd be happier without knowledge of the war. She'd be happier without the memories of watching her classmates die. And her parents. Hermione's a martyr, she's going to blame herself for their death. She did back then, and she will again."

Draco lost the ability to speak. He couldn't believe Potter was saying this.

"Maybe I don't want her to remember!" Potter continued. "In the last week she was here, I was terrible to her. I wasn't who I promised I'd be." Potter sighed. "In the last year of the war, Ron left me and Hermione alone for several months. After he left, she was basically a ghost; she was so lifeless that it hurt to watch. A week after he left she finally spoke to me. She was so broken from Ron's betrayal. So I made her a promise. I promised her that I'd never leave her. That I'd always find her. That I'd always save her. But I didn't. I don't want her to remember me breaking that promise."

Draco tried to process that for a second. He hadn't known that Weasel had ditched Potter and Hermione during that final year. He wasn't that surprised though. So Potter had made her a promise: he'd never leave her. He'd always find her. He'd always save her. Boy, had he failed on that. But, Draco could easily imagine him saying it. Hermione and him alone, with him making that promise as she cried. It probably had happened exactly like that. Hermione would've believed him. She would have seen him as her hero. Draco's hands clenched with jealousy.

But Potter had failed. Draco had found her. Draco had saved her. Draco was her hero now.

"Potter," Draco started, testing the waters. When Potter didn't cut him off, Draco continued. "You don't mean any of that, except maybe the failing Hermione part. You wouldn't want to forget the war, or your losses. I don't either. And Hermione needs to remember. We all need to remember. We need to remember those who fell, and we need to honour them. You would never want to forget your godfather or Lupin. Because if you forget them, they really die. Because they live in you. You wouldn't give his memory up for anything."

"And, yes, Hermione's life sucked. We know. We were there. But not all of it was terrible. Sometimes, it was amazing. You know that's true. To get the great memories, you have to have the bad. That's just a fact of life. So, Potter, you need to do something for me."

Potter glared. "What?"

"Think of the best memory you've ever had with Hermione. Go on." Potter looked rather reluctant to do anything he said, but after a moment, Potter looked forward, and his face became rather blissful. Draco knew he got it.

"Now that memory changed you, I assume?" Potter nodded slowly. "One of the happiest moments of your life?" Potter nodded again. "I know you, Potter. That memory is everything to you isn't it? Would you ever give it up?"

Potter shook his head. "Never."

"Do you want her to?" Potter sighed, and shook his head. "Exactly."

"As hard as it is for me to admit, you're right Malfoy. Hermione needs to know everything." Draco felt like Potter had some special secret meaning to that, but he didn't care enough to figure it out.

Kingsley looked dumbfounded for a moment. But he got over it. "That's wonderful. Now that we've settled that, we can only wait."

Draco was now the dumbfounded one. "That's our only option?"

Kingsley nodded. "Whoever the bastard is, he'll find out about Hermione soon. Then, it's his choice whether or not to come forward. My bet is he will. But we can't force him. We don't even know who it is yet."

Kingsley walked over to the door. "I need to go inform the ministry what is happening. I'll contact you two if anything shows up. I'm just going to quickly thank Molly for this lovely dinner, even if it was interrupted." With that, Kingsley whisked out the door, leaving Potter and Draco alone.

Draco turned to say something to Potter, but before he knew what was happening, the boy who lived had Draco pinned up against a wall, wand at his neck.

"Listen here, Malfoy," Potter hissed, pushing the wand into his neck. That was going to leave a mark. "What are you playing at with Hermione?"

"Nothing, Potter. I'm not playing at anything."

"Bullshit," Potter said menacingly. "You find her in Canada, random yes, but it could happen to anyone. You guys become friends. Eh, maybe. You two kiss. Question mark. You sleep in her bed. Triple question mark."

"You had no big issue with that!" Draco responded, eyeing the wand.

"Are you an idiot? I only defended you because Ron was the attacker. Before all of this, I liked you more than him, which is saying a lot."

Draco had no response to this. Potter continued.

"Then the picture on the front of the Prophet. That was worth a million question marks. Many people love Hermione, including me, so I ask you, what the hell are you playing at?"

Draco tried not to roll his eyes at Potter's dramatics. "Is it possible that I might like her?"

"Not in my world," was his ingenious response. Draco tried to deflect the attack.

"Well, she seems fine with it. So you shouldn't care. But you do. Why do you care so much, Potter? You have a wife, in case you've forgotten."

Potter paused momentarily, which gave Draco the ability to get out of his grasp. He was at the other side of the room before Potter realised what had happened.

"Bastard," Potter muttered.

"Why do you care?" Draco asked again. He hadn't realised how much he was really wondering about this. Potter was super protective of Hermione, but this was kind of ridiculous. Not to mention the hurt Draco kept on seeing in his eyes.

"Back off, ferret," Potter menaced.

"Why do you care?" Draco shouted back.

"Because it's Hermione!" Potter yelled. With that, he turned on his heel, and left the room.

Draco was left to ponder the meaning of that. After several moments, he still didn't get it, so he went to go find Hermione.

He walked out into the yard. Weasel saw him first and sent daggers his way. Draco ignored them. He made a brief observation of the yard. Hermione and Weaslette weren't there. Draco walked up to his mother, who was chatting with Mama about something.

"Mother," he said, walking up. "Have you seen Hermione? She's supposed to be with Weas…Ginny."

His mother turned to Mama, who answered. "They went up to Ginny's old room. Third floor. On the left." Draco thanked her and headed back into the house.

When he reached the third landing, he saw that Weaslette's door was ajar. He went up to push it open, but he heard voices inside. His curiosity got the better of him.

"So, Ginny, how long have you been with Harry?"

"About nine years." She sounded so fake you could probably find her name on fast food ingredient lists.

"That's so sweet!" Hermione responded, sounding sincere.

Draco could see Weaslette's fake smile in his head. "Yes, it is. But, that's old news. What about you? Draco, huh?"

"We're not really together," was Hermione's response.

"You're snogging on Quidditch pitches. Close enough. Personally, I think that would be great."

Draco's jaw dropping actually made a popping sound. Weaslette wanted him and Hermione to happen? What the hell?

"You do?" Hermione responded hopefully. Draco's heart stuttered.

"Yes. You two would be such a good fit. And Draco is so much better than your ex-boyfriends."

Hermione laughed. "Isn't one of my ex-boyfriends your brother?"

"Harry's right on that one. You two weren't really together."

"Why does Ron think we were?" Hermione mused.

"Because you two snogged during the final battle and he had spent three years obsessing over you."

"Ah," Hermione understood. "Ginny, everyone keeps referencing things, could you just clarify some stuff for me?"

Weaslette must've nodded, because Hermione continued.

"Harry and I were pretty close, right?"

Weaslette paused before responding. "Like siblings. You two were the closest of friends. You knew him better than I did." Weaslette's voice got really tight at the end.

"Were Ron and me that close?"

"No," Weaslette continued. "You all were that close at one point, but then Ron left you and Harry."

"Left us?" Hermione questioned. "What do you mean?"

Weaslette sighed. "While, during the last year of the war, you, Harry and Ron went into hiding to try and bring down Voldemort. But, about half way through, Ron left."

"Why'd he leave?"

Now Weaslette really paused, contemplating her answer. "While, Ron was having issue with the lack of food….."

Hermione laughed. "So he left his two best friends?"

Weaslette laughed humourlessly. "Yep. There were some other things that happened, but they're not that important." Weaslette said all that quickly, trying to brush it off. Draco's eyes narrowed. "Anyway, you and Harry were left alone in the woods for two months by yourself. I've asked Harry before what happened during those months, but he won't tell me. He says it's personal, but all I know is that you two were so much closer afterwards. When Ron went back to you, things were never the same."

Hermione seemed to ponder over what Weaslette had said for a few moments, before Weaslette started speaking again.

"But that was a really long time ago. I would've thought Ron was over you by now. I mean, he's had seven years and other relationships. He should get over it. If he finally gets over you, I think he'll realise that you two were never meant to be and that he's meant to be with other people. That's the only way he'll be happy."

Hermione must've nodded. "I think so. I mean, I was gone for seven years. That should be enough time to get over something that happened a long time ago. I mean, all we did was kiss right?"

Weaslette muttered something, and then answered. "You and Ron? Yep. That was it."

"I would've thought he'd get over me."

Weaslette sound really sad when she spoke next. "He's never going to get over you."

There was a pause for a moment, before Weaslette spoke again.

"But you and Draco. I've seen you two together, Mione. You may not see it, but I do. There's something there. I don't know what it is, but it's there. And I'm betting that it's never going away. So go for it. Plus, Draco's really hot."

Hermione snorted. "He is." Draco smiled.

There was another pause, and then Weaslette spoke again. Her voice was a lot softer and less bitchy. It actually passed for sincere.

"I've really missed you, 'Mione. I'd forgotten how much. I'm so glad your back. Even if you don't remember me, I don't mind. Harry does, but he's an idiot. I've missed you, not your memories. Having you back is enough for me."

"Thanks Ginny," Hermione said quietly. Draco rolled his eyes. That would've been sweet if it wasn't Weaslette who had said it. Draco sighed and knocked on the door. It was time to go.

Weaslette opened the door, and appraised him. She smirked and Hermione came to the door.

"Oh, Weaslette, Potter went home," he told her, as Hermione walked out to meet him.

Weaslette's eyes narrowed. "Why?" she asked sharply.

Draco shrugged. "It's Potter. If I knew why he did the things he did, my life would be a whole lot simpler."

Weaslette pursed her lips, and nodded. She pulled Hermione into a hug, and bade the two of them farewell. She went back into her room and shut the door.

Draco led Hermione back downstairs. It was getting late, they should start heading home. Draco led Hermione into the living room, where everyone was chatting. Weasel was missing. He must've gone home too.

Narcissa saw them and stood up as she bade Molly goodbye. Draco sent Hermione to say goodbye to everyone. She was engulfed immediately. Narcissa walked over to Draco.

"So?" she asked smirking. Such a mother.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. Narcissa nodded, understanding.

"She's a great girl, Dragon," she whispered.

"She's more than great," Draco replied, leaning back and watching Hermione say goodbye to everyone. Narcissa smiled, and wrapped Draco in a hug, which he returned easily.

"It'll work out," Narcissa said after she released him.

Hermione had finally said goodbye to everyone, so she walked back to Draco and Narcissa. She took Draco's hand, and the two of them walked out of the burrow.

Draco took one final look at the Weasley's home. He'd give them this: it sure was homely.

The three of them disaparated back to the Manor. They landed on the front steps, and headed inside. Narcissa bade them both goodnight, and headed off to sleep.

Draco turned to Hermione. She raised her eyebrow.

"So why did Harry really leave?" At his confused expression, she continued. "I can tell when you're lying."

Draco sighed. "He pinned me to a wall and then I yelled at him."

Hermione looked stricken. "Why'd he pin you to a wall?"

Draco looked her straight in the eye, and took a deep breath. "He thinks I'm messing you around."

Hermione didn't break their eye contact. "You're not." She said it as a statement, and not a question.

Draco took a step towards her, and lowered his voice. "I'm not."

Hermione nodded. "I know."

"Are you messing me around?" Draco didn't know why he asked her that. Their relationship just seemed too good to be true.

"No." She was looking him dead in the eye, and Draco knew that was the truth.

Draco felt his heart stop and restart. Hermione spoke once more. "So where do we go from here?" Draco opened his mouth to answer, yet found he couldn't.

They stood there looking at each other for no one knows how long. Draco couldn't take his eyes away from hers. He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. He left his hand on her cheek. She looked up at him. Her eyes were twinkling. She was so beautiful, Draco mused. Without thinking, or hesitating, he leant down and kissed her.

The second his lips met hers, Draco felt sparks. This kiss wasn't like the Quidditch pitch: sex and lust. This was softer. Hermione pulled herself into him, and gave no resistance. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and held her close. He wanted her close.

Draco didn't know where the two of them were going. Draco barely knew where they were. Draco saw how others felt about her, and now he understood it perfectly. This was Hermione. There was something there. He felt it deep within himself. A connection. Maybe it had been there before Canada, maybe it hadn't. But now it was permanent. He felt it every time he set eyes on her, every time his eyes met hers.

Was it love? He didn't know. Maybe. He could see himself falling in love with her. It would be easy, effortless. Loving Hermione Granger would be the simplest thing in the world.

It'd be like falling into a deep sleep. You feel it coming on, you recognize that it's about to happen. But you couldn't remember the seconds before, when you passed from consciousness to dreams. Then suddenly, you're dreaming.

Draco was falling asleep.

Hermione pulled back a bit, but they were still only inches apart. "Could you sleep in my room tonight?"

Draco's breath hitched, and Hermione chucked. "Not like that. I just want to be with you."

Draco nodded, almost thoughtlessly. He wrapped his arms around Hermione, and lifted her up, bridal style. He walked them up to their rooms. He set her down, and went into his room to change.

After he had his Slytherin pyjamas on, he walked across the hall, and into Hermione's room. She was lying under the covers. The top of her Slytherin pyjamas was showing. Draco looked at her, and felt his mouth go dry.

She met his eye. Wordlessly, Draco walked over to the bed, and got under the covers, lying down. She scooted over to him, and laid her head on his chest. Draco wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

He placed a butterfly kiss on her forehead, and began to fall asleep.

In more ways than one.

It was cold that night. He sat shivering in the corner as the harsh wind blew through the barred door. It was storming outside, though the guards didn't seem to mind.

He gripped the thin blanket he had, and covered himself up as best he could. His hands were in shackles, but he didn't care.

After seven years, he was used to it.

He stared blankly at the wall opposite, trying to ignore the wails coming from outside. The insane prisoners screamed and wailed almost every night. Luckily, he hadn't lost his sanity.

Then again, he hadn't been that sane to begin with.

He heard movement outside the cell. One of the prison guards floated by. They didn't affect him that much. The guard opened the door, and threw in the daily newspaper. He rolled his eyes and tried to keep warm. He had lost interest in the outside world a long time ago.

The storm outside suddenly stopped raging. He sighed. Maybe he'd be able to sleep. If Azkaban had done one thing to him, it had made him weaker. But not as weak as the guards thought.

He tried to close his eyes, but suddenly something bright hit them. He blinked. The moonlight was shining through. He sighed, and looked around. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned.

The paper the guard had thrown in had a picture of a girl on the front. The man's breath hitched. He recognized her.

He threw the blanket off and crawled across the cell floor and picked up the paper. Just as he suspected.

Hermione Granger.

He stroked a finger across her face. "Pet," he crooned. The last time he had seen her, she had looked a little different.

The last time he had seen her, she had remembered who he was.

He hadn't thought they would find her. She was so well hidden, especially with the memory charm. He should've just killed her when he had the chance. However, he liked the idea of Potter searching in vain for her, knowing she was alive, but wasn't with him. Just out of reach. It had broken Potter, he knew that. That was his goal. With his pet back, Potter was probably starting to live again.

That would have to stop.

The man chuckled slightly, looking at the face of the girl he had taken. He felt a spark in his black heart.

"Don't worry, pet," he chuckled. "We'll be reunited before you know it. That I can promise you."

For the first time, deranged laughter filled his cell at Azkaban.

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