5. Chapter 5

Edited 2/4/2020

Original A/N: Hello dear readers! Thank you for reviewing and faving and loving and such. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, but I hope this makes up for it :) Keep being awesome.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (witty comment).

"Hermione?" he gasped, disbelief overtaking his voice. He blinked twice and pinched himself. He turned away and looked again. His heart stopped and restarted rapidly.

This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream.

But, she was still there.

He couldn't believe it. She was here. Hermione Granger was here. The Princess of the Wizarding World, the insufferable bookworm, and the heart of the Golden Trio was standing right in front of him, eyeing him as if he was crazy for being a little bit shocked at the circumstances.

Those brown eyes were bright as she looked him over skeptically, a slight smile playing on her lips. She ran a hand through her tangled brown hair, causing it to shower down her back. Her face was flushed from the cold evening air. Draco couldn't help but stare in awe at the miracle of her presence.

Hermione watched him curiously, as if he was a text she was studying. He almost laughed. Always a bookworm. Her eyes, which had been looking him over, finally met his once again.

Draco felt another jolt of electricity. Hermione didn't notice. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and asked the damning question.

"Do I know you?"

Draco stared at her, eyes huge. He looked her over, as she had done to him seconds before. The difference was in intention. Hermione had looked him over lazily, as if he was just another man she had run into on the street.

He looked at her with desperation, memorizing every detail, as if she was an illusion his drunken mind had conjured up. Draco's eyes traced over her slowly, refusing to miss a single detail. It was incredible.

She looked almost exactly the same. She had obviously aged, but the key aspects of her appearance, of her, were still perfectly intact. Her hair was still slightly bushy. Her eyes were still deep brown. She still possessed the soft curves she had grown in the last few years of Hogwarts. She still looked like Hermione. She still looked beautiful.

The word entered his mind without permission, a jerk reaction to the woman in front of him. Before allowing himself the time to process the fact that he, Draco Malfoy, had just described Hermione Granger as beautiful, he forced his mind back to the present, heart pounding. He didn't have time for that right now.

He needed priorities in his current situation. He needed to deal with the obvious situation at hand.

How could she be here? He wondered, frantically. This had to be an illusion. This could not be real. It just couldn't.

Could it? his subconscious prodded. He ignored it.

Hermione fucking Granger couldn't be standing right in front of him, in the middle of muggle Canada. She just couldn't. Draco cocked his head, looking her over again with a searching eye, trying to find a chink in the illusion.

She seemed so real, so solid, so present, and so alive. But she couldn't be. There was no way. She's dead, everyone thinks she dead. She hasn't been seen in years, he reminded himself. She disappeared after the war. She would have come back, back to Weasel and Potter. This couldn't be Granger. The Gryffindor Princess was a goner, he had said so himself to Blaise.

A discreet cough brought him out of his scrambling to find sense. Hermione was still looking at him, her eyebrow cocked. She was expecting an answer. What was her question, Draco wondered, his mind disjointed and confused. He thought back quickly before the words rang through his ears once again.

"Of course, you know me!" He exclaimed wildly. His watched her desperately, waiting for recognition to fill her eyes. It never did.

"Sorry sir, I really don't know you." Hermione stated firmly, and she turned to walk away. Draco almost had a heart attack at the prospect of losing her now. He grabbed her arm, and spun her back around, ignoring her loud protest.

"It's me! Draco! Draco Malfoy!" He continuously exclaimed, waving his arms dramatically, like a madman.

Her expression was still blank. Not a single emotion, besides maybe fear, crossed her face. Not even hate, the one thing he would have expected from Granger in this situation.

That's when it clicked.

"You don't remember me?" he said slowly, understanding the situation.

She shook her head, her brown hair swishing around her face. Draco's jaw dropped. He began stuttering incoherently. His mind was in total disarray. Finally, after a few moments, one thought was finally able to manifest itself into words.

"You are Hermione, right?" Draco blurted out, confused beyond belief, but searching desperately for an explanation.

She nodded, looking apprehensive.

"Yes, I…" she started, before Draco cut her off.

"Hermione Granger?" Just feeling her name on his lips sent a shiver down his spine.

"No," she shook her head. Draco's heart dropped in his chest. "My name's Hermione Mason."

"It isn't," Draco whispered, more to himself than to her, but she heard him. Draco shouldn't have expected anything less; Granger never let him get away with anything.

"It is, sir. I'm sorry, but I need to go," she rushed out. With that, Hermione turned on her heel, scurrying away into the dark. She moved quickly, so quickly that she was out of his sight before Draco realized that she had left.

He didn't try to follow her.

Draco felt as though he was in shock. He stared in the direction where she had gone. Her face was flashing in front of his eyes. Her voice was ringing in his ears. He had felt her hand, intertwined with his own.

She was real. He couldn't deny it. She was no illusion, as he should have known from the beginning. No illusion would ever have been able to do the bookworm justice, which meant one thing.

She was alive. Granger was alive.

What did he do now? He couldn't just ignore it; there was no way he ever could. Hermione was alive and well, and he was the only one that knew.

The realization hit him in strides.

What now? Who should he tell? Should he tell anyone at all? Draco thought over all his options, pretty thoroughly given the fact he was still drunk. In the end, there was only one choice. He couldn't believe it had taken him so long to realize.

Draco turned immediately on his heel and set out in a dead sprint. He ran through the streets of Toronto, narrowly avoiding other people heading down the sidewalk. He didn't really care though; he needed to get to the hotel. He arrived quickly, the hotel's doors gleaming like a beacon, his harbor in the night.

He rushed through the doors and took the stairs four at a time. He was too jittery to wait for the elevator. He arrived at his room, nearly ripping the door off its hinges in his haste. He rushed over to his desk, grabbing a quill and paper. He started scribbling frantically, when suddenly, he found his eyes drooping. Within seconds, they were completely closed. His head fell onto the desk, fast asleep. He snored lightly, as he slept on top of an ink covered letter.

The sun streamed through the open window onto Draco's sleeping face, burning through his eyelids. He squinted in the sunlight, waking slowly. He was immediately blinded, the light burning him. He looked away quickly, finding it did nothing to really ease the pain. He immediately felt a horrible headache.

Ugh, he thought, the realization dawning. Hangover.

Draco picked himself up and proceeded to drag himself to the bathroom. Squinting in the mirror, he quickly discovered the ink all over his face in an illegible pattern. He must have fallen asleep on a freshly inked letter.

Funny, he didn't remember writing something last night. He shrugged. He must have been pissed drunk. He quickly washed all the ink off, and returned to his desk. He was curious to see what he had been writing. He picked up a smudged letter and read:

Blaise,

I found Her

That's what it said. The rest of the letter had been smudged and was impossible to decipher. Draco thought back to the night before, his brain scrunching in concentration, which didn't help his headache.

But no, he couldn't remember what he had been referring to. Everything after the bar was blank. He looked back to the letter. I found her. The words rang through his head. After several minutes of wondering, he gave up, tossing the letter down. He had no idea what it meant.

Oh well, Draco thought. It must not have been that important.

Draco pushed the letter from his mind and started to prepare for the day. He quickly made himself a hangover potion, which helped his migraine immensely. He got dressed, grabbed a bit of toast, and headed to the office.

When he arrived, Katie and Justin were waiting at the front desk. They looked up and smiled when he walked in.

"So, he survived," Katie smirked, giggling slightly.

"Hmm?" Draco asked, wincing at the giggles. They irritated what was left of his headache.

"Dude, you got so smashed," Justin chimed in, chuckling.

"Trust me, I know," Draco said, rubbing his head, and closing his eyes. They felt better sheltered from the light. Opening them again, he turned to Justin and Katie. "At least the game was good."

They grinned.

After another successful day at work, Draco found himself wandering around downtown Toronto.

But even though the office was already raking in the galleons, he didn't feel good. Something was nagging at him. Something felt off.

Who was he kidding? He knew exactly what was bothering him. It was the letter.

He had tried to forget. It must have been just some stupid drunken haze. It must not have been important, he repeated at himself.

Then why did he feel so uneasy? He had a feeling that this was something big. He couldn't figure out the mystery. And Draco Malfoy did not like mysteries.

I found her was still bouncing around his head, ringing in his ears. The thought of it made his blood go cold, which frightened him in and of itself. He had absolutely no idea what had happened last night. He didn't even know who he could have been talking about, and Merlin, was it bothering him.

Who could he have possibly meant? What had happened and why couldn't he get it off his mind?

Draco's mind pondered the subject as he walked through the streets. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he wasn't paying attention to anything, until a yell pulled him back to reality.

Draco looked down in surprise.

A woman was lying on the ground beneath him, attempting to pick herself up. It seemed he had knocked her over.

"Oh sorry," he mumbled, reaching down to grab her hand. She reached up and grabbed his. She looked up at him and smirked. Draco nearly passed out.

"Is this becoming a daily thing?" she smiled.

Draco looked at her. He looked at her bright brown eyes. He looked at her bushy hair. He looked at Hermione.

I found her rang through his head once more. I found her. I found Her. I found Hermione.

Draco nearly doubled over in shock as the memory of the previous night burst through his mind. He remembered it all. Her bright brown eyes, her slightly flushed face, her confused expression, her curly hair, her quirky little smile, her voice, her hand wrapped around his, and her shadow as she disappeared into the night.

This all came back to Draco in the span of a second. He remembered it all. More jolts ran through him, shocking him. He couldn't believe it.

He had found her. Hermione had been found. She was back, from who knows where or what, but back, nonetheless. His heart warmed, strangely, as his eyes met hers, after quickly tracing her face.

Draco knew he was gaping. Hermione smirked. Gesturing to his hand around hers, she asked, "Are you going to help me?" He quickly nodded and pulled her up to her feet. She stood before him, amusement evident in her features.

"Hermione?" Draco asked tentatively, knowing he needed to be sure once more.

She smiled and chuckled, letting her hair fall across her eyes. Pushing it out of her face, she looked at him, her brown orbs twinkling. "Are we going to have this conversation every time you knock me over?"

Draco just stood there, watching her, barely blinking. He dared fate to take her away from him, to steal her away as it had last night.

But, it didn't. She was really there.

After a minute of him just watching her, when she started to look uncomfortable, Draco spoke. "We met last night."

Hermione nodded slowly, eyeing him warily. "Yep. You knocked me over, stared at me like a gaping idiot, kept muttering nonsense about how I knew you. Then I left."

Draco stared. "Don't you?"

"Don't I what?"

"Know me."

"Nope," she replied. "That's what I said last night too. Were you smashed?"

Draco nodded, still staring. After another minute, he blurt out, "Of course you know me!"

Hermione shook her head, bushy curls falling on either side of her face.

"But I'm Draco Malfoy!"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"But, Hogwarts!" She still looked confused.

"Voldemort!" No reaction.

"Harry Potter!"

Hermione looked at him pitifully. "I think you've got me confused with someone else."

He knew he didn't. He would recognize the bookworm anywhere. Her voice was enough, and her hair and eyes were simply for double-checking. But, he had to be sure.

Without thinking, Draco reached forward and brushed her hair over her shoulder, giving him a view of her elongated neck. She flinched away from his touch, but not before he saw what he was looking for.

"Where did you get that scar?" he said, voice trembling as he pointed at the thin line down her neck, the white skin slightly raised.

"I don't know, can't remember," she muttered, uncomfortable.

Draco could remember. He could remember so clearly. The flashback overtook him, as he relived the moment when she had gotten it. He saw in his mind as his crazy aunt tortured Hermione on the drawing room floor. Bellatrix was shouting about some sword, as Hermione cried in agony, her screams echoing through the Manor, loud and shrill.

Potter and Weasel had broken out of the dungeon, which led his aunt to hold Hermione with a knife at her throat. He remembered feeling helpless and inwardly screaming as his aunt made a small cut on her neck, her blood slowly falling to the floor, staining it.

Draco turned his attention back to Hermione. He gave her a once-over, scrutinizing every little detail. How could she not remember him? What on Merlin's sweet earth was going on?

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

"Do you know what a muggle is?" Draco asked, going out on a limb, praying that his gut instinct was wrong.

But not even a smidge of recognition crossed her face.

"Oh, damn it," Draco muttered, cursing the wind.

This was the answer to the mystery, he knew it. The answer to the mystery of Hermione Granger's disappearance was right in front of him, staring him in the face. So simple. So awful. And so bloody effective.

She couldn't remember him and that told him everything. Someone must have captured her, as they had originally thought. But the plot twist came next.

Her memory was gone. Her kidnapper had erased her memory and dumped her in muggle Toronto, away from her friends, home, and life. She didn't even know this muggle illusion wasn't her reality. No wonder they had never found her.

When she hadn't come back, everyone had assumed she was being held prisoner or dead. They had never once considered that she was living a different life. They had looked in hidden caves and castles, where they thought someone would be holding her against her will. They had looked in heavily enchanted places, knowing that only very powerful magic would have been able to hold Hermione back from returning to her loved ones.

They had never considered she'd be walking around a muggle city, enjoying what she thought was her life. They had never even thought to search the big muggle cities, knowing that no Death Eater would be caught dead in one.

He couldn't help but swear.

If they had considered all the options, maybe they would have found her sooner. But no matter what had happened, she was here. Hermione Granger was in front of him.

He had found Her.

Bloody fucking hell.

Original A/N: Yay! Another chapter! I loved writing this one, it was very fun and really got me into the story. Let me know what you think, reviews and such. :)