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I took a deep breath as I stepped towards the hospital bed at the far end of the wing.

Its occupant, a pale boy covered in bandages, lay still, his face turned away from me, meaning I was unable to see if he was conscious or not.

My heart hammered in my chest. I didn't know if I was ready to do this, but I needed answers. I needed Draco to fill in the gaps of my missing memories, to tell me exactly why he did what he did.

He stirred the second I sat down in the chair positioned next to his bed, the sound of metal legs scraping against the hard floor alerting him to my presence.

As he turned over to face me, his expression softened instantly, the frown lines on his forehead ironing out as his eyes gave a little twinkle of warmth.

"Hermione," he croaked, reaching out to tentatively brush his fingers against the hand resting on my lap.

But despite the pleasant tingle his touched created against my skin, I moved my hand away, needing answers, not confusion.

"It's strange hearing you call me that." I said quietly, looking down, away from the sight of the hurt flickering in his eyes. "From you, I'm used to being referred to as Granger or Mud-"

"I haven't called you that in a long time," he said at once, cutting me off. "The way I used to treat you was despicable, and I'll do anything to make you forgive me again."

I tried to swallow, my mouth suddenly quite dry.

"Were we-" I paused, swallowing again as I fidgeted awkwardly in the chair. "Were we... in love?"

I could feel my cheeks flush at the question, and I braced myself for him to laugh in my face and call me a foolish idiot.

But instead his lips twitched into a faint smile, a slight sadness behind the eyes of which it did not quite reach.

"Yes," he murmured hoarsely, "at least... it is the case for me."

"Why did you do it, then?" I asked, my breathing becoming shallow. "Why did you take it all away, if you... loved me?"

"Love. I love you, Hermione," he said, propping himself up onto his elbows so that he could attempt to sit up. But the pain was clearly too much for him and he fell back against his pillow, wincing. "And I did it for the exact same reason I warned you to get away from here - because it's safer for you to be as far away from me as possible. But knowing what you knew, you wouldn't leave it... wouldn't leave me."

His words caused my breath to hitch, and, automatically, I found myself reaching out to lightly press the palm of my hand against the bandage covering his left forearm. He flinched, but he didn't pull away.

"It's why I have all those books on the Dark Arts, isn't it?" I breathed, my heart racing as realisation hit me like a brick. "I was trying to free you."

Slowly, he nodded. I took my hand back, shaking.

Merlin, I really must have loved him.

"What were we like?" I asked, suddenly curious. "Were we, um... happy?"

"Very." A crooked smile played at his lips, eyes twinkling as he did so. "You used to stay over in my room quite a bit."

My eyes widened, not quite believing I had slept with a boy, least of all this boy.

"I shouldn't imagine the other Slytherins would have liked that very much." I noted.

"They didn't know." Amusement glinted in his eyes, his voice silky soft. "I have my room, you see, just a little further down from the Slytherin quarters."

Well, that explained why Seamus found me in the dungeons. I shivered, hating that I had no memory of it.

Except... I did have one tiny one. And suddenly I felt desperate to have it confirmed. "That incantation you used to help me heal you, it brought back what I think was a memory. We were sat on a sofa and I think you were fixing a wound on the back of my head."

This time he sat bolt upright, ignoring the evident pain this caused him. I tried not to blush as the sheets fell down around him, revealing a rather toned torso where the bandages weren't covering.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said, quickly lifting the sheet back up around him. "I forgot."

"Forgot what?" I asked, intrigued. Wasn't it me who was supposed to be forgetting things?

He cleared his throat, a pink tinge rising to his cheeks. "The first time you, uh- saw me naked... you were quite nervous about it. I guess it makes sense that you would be again."

The idea that I'd seen him naked, let alone had sex with him, was just mind blowing to me.

"You have all these memories I don't have," I whispered. "When you talk about me and you, it's like you're referring to a different me... the version of me that fell in love with you."

The pain in his face was evident. I wasn't trying to be cruel, just honest. Because, as I sat there with him, I couldn't say that I loved him. He'd wiped that part of me away.

"But you're remembering? The memories are coming back?" He seemed hopeful, as though he was clinging onto a piece of string.

"It was a tiny flash of memory, that's all." I shrugged, not wanting him to cling to too much.

"But it happened," Draco murmured, his grey eyes flashing. "That memory you had was real. It was the first time you came back to my room... the first time you stayed over. It was the night before Christmas break and you ended up sleeping in my arms."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my chest feeling tight. "But all of this, it's come as a shock. I believe what you are saying, I really do. However, apart from that split second memory, I've got nothing in my head that says we were ever this crazy loved-up couple. To me, you are still just the arrogant, conceited rich boy who thinks I do not belong in this world."

Panic was flitting over his features now, I could see him desperately wracking his brain trying to find a way to fix this, to fix us.

"Please, Hermione," he begged, grabbing my hand as I went to stand up and leave, "I realised too late I had made a mistake in thinking it was the right thing to do. But I see now how wrong I was. Let me help you remember, I want to show you that I can be the person you are capable of loving."

I shook my head, tears swimming in my eyes as I pulled my hand out of his and turned away from him. "I'm sorry, Draco. But I just can't do this."

"You like continental breakfasts and have a strong and - quite frankly - alarming opinion on house-elf rights," he said quickly, making me freeze in my tracks, "you aspire to be Minister for Magic one day but think Potter would make a questionable Head Auror. You hate looking at yourself naked but I think every part of you is beautiful, and you have this adorable little freckle on your back at the point where your butt cheeks separate, I know because I have kissed it a thousand times and I'd kiss it another thousand if only you'd just let me."

I closed my eyes as I was hit by a wave of such strong emotion. The intimate way he was talking about me was almost giddying.

"Stop- don't do this." I whispered shakily without looking back at him. "Please, it's too much."

"But don't you see, I love you, Hermione," he implored, his voice cracking. "I love everything about you, every little detail, the good and the bad. I love you because you're you and I know you love me too."

"That's just the thing, Draco," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I turned around to face him. "You wiped that part of me, you wiped it away with one word. I don't love you because everything that happened which made me fall in love with you has gone."

His face crumpled, making him look more broken than I'd ever recalled seeing before.

"Please. We can get it back-"

"No," I said, firmly, needing not to give him false hope. "I hate Ron for what he did to you today, you didn't deserve that. But I hate you more for what you did to me - you robbed me of my choices, my identity and most of all, my trust. Even if I regained all my memories and recalled my love for you, I don't think I could ever forgive you. Do you understand that?"

Slowly, he nodded, and as he did so, a lonely tear spilled from his eye and rolled down his cheek.

"I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm so sorry."

"I know you are," I sighed resignedly, feeling a deep sadness wash over me. "And so am I."

And this time, when I turned away, I walked - not once looking back as I exited the wing.

*****

That evening, I took the books from my nightstand and began to read. I read and I read and I read.

I read until I literally couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, had a sleep, woke up, and continued on reading.

When I finished those books, I went to the library and got more books out to read. And when I was done with that, I went to Harry and asked to borrow his Invisibility Cloak.

"Why?" He demanded. "I'm not handing it over until you tell me what you are up to."

"I don't think you're in a position to bargain with me, are you?" I spat furiously, snapping my fingers at him until he eventually conceded.

So, off to Knockturn Alley I slipped away, thanking the gods that I was seventeen and had my Apparation licence.

And there, I found a bookshop. And beneath Harry's cloak, as quietly as a mouse, I read some more.

The next day I returned, going deeper into the darker parts of the underworld, reading up on material that would curl even Salazar Slytherin's toes.

Draco had been right about one thing - when I knew what I knew, I wouldn't quit until I had fixed it.

And so, on June the thirtieth of nineteen-ninety seven, exactly a week after I found out what Draco had done to my memory, I finally got my eureka moment.

I had discovered a way to free him.

*****

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