Forevermore

The fact that Pansy and Neville had made their relationship public was a boon to Hermione. She was very happy for her friend, who looked genuinely happy, but she was also relieved because Neville had taken the heat off her and Theo’s supposed relationship. Harry Potter might have saved the wizarding world, but Neville was the true hero at school. He had fought with them, protected them, hidden them and trained them. Which is why when he made his entry with Pansy, after the first few seconds of silence that had greeted them, a lot of students had broken into cheers and wolf whistles.

Just like fighting a troll together had sealed the friendship between Hermione, Harry and Ron, staying through Theo’s interrogation brought him and Hermione closer. And while their closeness did trigger whispers and gesticulations, it brought with it a priceless advantage; Malfoy was able to exist in Hermione’s sphere without any attention and speculation to their relationship-whatever it may be.

As they progressed further into the term, they all fell into their own schedules. No matter how much emotional baggage they were all carrying, they still needed to get through their school work. NEWTs were not to be taken lightly, a fact that all their professors constantly reminded them. As autumn made way for winter, the students of eighth year found themselves wrapped in academics.

It was in professor Flitwick’s class that they started receiving their project work. Hermione had been sitting with Ron, and they had been arguing in whispers about how inappropriate it would be if Ron sent a jelly-legs hex to Parvati, who was sitting in front of them, because she had managed to inflame him by recalling loudly at breakfast just how terrible he had looked at the yule ball. They were still whispering when Flitwick announced, “For your final project, I need everyone to sort themselves into pairs, preferably with someone outside of your house please.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth and Malfoy was at their bench. “Work with me Granger?” he asked quirking his brow.

Hermione couldn’t control her smile. She had seen him watching her and Ron with suspicion and something akin to jealousy, and saw right through his attempt at breaking them apart. In all fairness though, she had been the one to tell him she wanted to know him better, and what better way to get to know someone than to work with them. Before she could even articulate her affirmation, Ron stood up and left, grumbling under his breath about ‘Hermione and her Slytherin friendships’.

“Well?” asked Malfoy again.

“Sure Malfoy.”

He took the seat next to her with a large grin on his stupidly handsome face. “Didn’t think you would give in so easily Granger,” he smirked.

“Wait till we get started Malfoy. This project will be anything but pleasurable,” she challenged, drawing out the last word.

She saw his eyes darken, but he said nothing; instead he broke his gaze from her and looked straight on.

“Silence class!” cried Professor Flitwick.

“Now that you’re all settled with your partners let me explain the nature of your project. Every pair has to combine at least two different charms such that they work symbiotically, and its resulting effect should have a clear practical application in the real world. There is a list of limitations and safety guidelines pinned up outside my office, which you should all go through before embarking on your project. I expect you to submit your topics of interest to me by the first week of December, and final project evaluations will be at the end of March, leaving you with enough time to prepare for your final exams.”

The class was dismissed soon after, and Hermione was looking forward to working with Malfoy. It would definitely give them time together, but she was also looking forward to seeing how he approached their project and how his brain worked. She had been impressed by his charm work before, so she was genuinely eager to get started.

Their next lesson was Potions, where Hermione sat with Ginny, as the latter refused to sit with Harry, stating she couldn’t quite digest the way Slughorn doted on Harry even now that his potions were average at best. Ron on the other hand had developed a new-found love for Potions now that he had been embraced into the Slug-club. Professor Slughorn had a definite twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he walked around the room with a large glass bowl in his hand, all with small bits of paper folded up. Harry was presented with the first choice and he dug his hand in all pulled out a chit from the bottom. On Slughorn’s encouragement, he opened his paper, and stared at in horror with his mouth open for a minute, before clearing his throat and speaking out clearly – “Draco Malfoy.”

Malfoy, who had been in a wonderful mood before, scowled immediately. “You must be kidding me,” he snarked.

Meanwhile Ron was howling with tears streaming down his face. Harry may have been all for being pals with the snakes, but teaming up with Malfoy for the one subject he was vulnerable in was not ideal for him at all. Rigidly, as if being dragged against his will, Malfoy reached Harry and sat down with a slump.

Slughorn, not having a care in the world, went on with his task. Soon, the class had been paired up, and Hermione got Parvati as her partner, while Ron ended up with Ginny and Theo with Pansy.

Each pair was supposed to work on one of the potions listen in their NEWTs guidelines, and they had to enhance it, alter it, or find an antidote to the best of their abilities. “Surprise me,” was all Slughorn said, rather than provide any clear or concise instructions.

It was after supper, and Hermione was sitting at the large Hufflepuff table in their common room, her books all splayed around her. The entire room was relatively quiet, with everyone trying finishing up their essays or getting some reading done. The soft noises of the fire burning, scratching of quill on parchment, and the turning of pages, lulled Hermione into a trance-like state between wakefulness and sleep. She was on the edge of an epiphany when Malfoy strode to her, his palms resting on the table as he bent towards her from across the table.

“Granger, can you come back to earth for little bit?”

She was startled out of her trance, looking at Malfoy with confusion, trying to reign her thoughts in.

“Oh. Sorry Malfoy. I was just..”

“Deep in thought? Figuring out how to save the world? Ending hunger as we speak?”

She blushed in embarrassment at his words despite herself. She was still sensitive about being called out for her know-it-all tendencies.

“Lucky you partnered me in charms then. I’m sure you’ll be able to ride my coattails as I find a way to get us an Outstanding,” she drawled, knowing it would push his buttons.

“Oh really Granger. For that little jibe, I’ll make sure to make our project as – challenging – as I can,” he smirked back.

“In fact,” he continued, “I will make you a bet. I will manage to get a better grade than you in potions, even with Potter as my partner.”

“If you want to do my bidding just ask Malfoy, you don’t have to go through the lengths of losing just for that.”

“I don’t like losing Granger,” he growled, making her skin tingle. “And when I win, you will have to do whatever I ask. Anything I ask.”

“Game on Malfoy,” she said hoarsely, half swooning at the promise of his words.

Later at night, when the common room had emptied and only Harry and Ron remained with her, Hermione finally verbalised what she had been thinking before Malfoy had interrupted her.

“Harry,” she started looking at him, “I realised today that you were right when you said this is finally a year when we get to be just routine students in this school.”

She raised up her hand to stop Ron, who had opened his mouth to speak.

“I was actually thinking, now that we don’t have the impending doom that was Voldemort handing on our head, what if we were to follow in the footsteps of your father and Sirius. What if were to follow their legacy?

“What has that great brain of yours come up with now Hermione?

“What if we were to be the new Marauders?”

Hermione was spending oodles of her time in the library, frantically trying to read through any and every book. It was one such day, when Hermione had been running her hands through her hair so frequently while reading, that her hair had frizzed and doubled in volume, when Malfoy came to intervene.

“Excuse me, nest of hair, have you seen Hermione Granger anywhere?” he said facetiously.

“Ha. Ha. Malfoy. That was so original. What do you want?”

“Well, you do know that we are supposed to be working on the charms project together, right? And in this state I don’t think you’re going to be having any breakthroughs.”

“I just need to cover as much material as I can before I decide what we can do. There are just so many possibilities. I look up a charm, then I cross-reference it with other charms of similar properties, trying to figure out what may or may not work, but it’s very tedious and not to mention very draining, but I can’t not do the research properly, so –

“Granger. Take a breath.”

“How can you possibly be so relaxed Malfoy? We have only ten days left and –

“Granger! Just – take a breath,” he sighed in exasperation.  

She stopped and stared at him blankly. He sat down beside her.

“I am here because Theo sent me to check up on you because, and I quote, “Hermione is drowning in the books Draco, you need to go and distract her.”

“Now I actually have the perfect way to distract you and calm your overworked mind. It involves a lot of sweating and panting and needs quite a bit of stamina,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Hermione blushed deep red, and stammered, “wh - what?”

A devious grin spread over Malfoy’s face. “Running, Granger. I was talking about running. What a dirty mind you have.”

“Let’s go,” he offered her his hand and pulled her up.

Once they were out in the grounds, showed her how to warm up and stretch.

“You run?” she asked sceptically.

“Yeah, and if you manage to keep up with me, I’ll answer all the questions you’re obviously bursting to ask.”

He took off in a sprint, taunting her, “C’mon golden girl, show me what you got.”

Hermione bolted after him, and realised how out of shape she really was. Just like she had let her duelling go, she had also got lax with keeping fit. She could hardly keep up with Malfoy, who looked like he could do this all day. He matched her pace, pushing her to carry on, but after just 20 minutes, Hermione was panting, holding her stomach and nursing a stitch. The activity had the desired result and all thoughts of work left her while she struggled to breath in large gulps of fresh air. Malfoy walked them both to the edge of the great lake, where Hermione sat down in relief. He conjured some water for her, and she drank eagerly.

While she had become winded, he was hardly affected, emphasising how fit he really was.

“So,” she said, “You run?”

He chuckled, “Never one to let it go, are you Granger.”

“I do run, yes. I – um – used to occlude, a LOT. It’s how I got through the last few years. I would occlude for hours and hours on end, till I was occluding for almost the entire day. However, it starting taking a toll on me. You see, when you suppress all your emotions for so long, they come back with a vengeance at night. So, I started taking dreamless sleep. Pansy and I would brew our own batch of potions. Eventually, we got dependent on them, and neither of us are the kind of people who like being too dependent, on anything – or anyone. Her story is for her to tell, but she had to leave for a while to get herself sorted, and I – I discovered running. The first time I did, I was so overwhelmed by the physical exertion, so spent, that every horrible moment that I had endured, every curse I had uttered, every little ounce of pain that I had inflicted, it all took over, and I wasn’t able to control it. I remember doubling over, retching, crying – though I don’t admit that one usually – till it all just flowed out of me. It took hours for me to let it all out, but eventually I felt blissfully empty. And so, I did it every day, the same cycle, till one day when I was running, instead of the awful memories, I started appreciating the fresh air in my lungs; and it made me stronger, propelled me forward. It clears my head better than flying – another thing I will never admit in front of anyone.”

Hermione was silent. How did he manage to vocalise his thoughts with such ease, how did he just lay himself bare in front of her without hesitation, she wondered. Once again, it was the ravages of the war showing themselves, that had made a boy like Malfoy grow up in to the man he was now. She realised that Malfoy revealing his vulnerabilities did not make him weak, instead they made him stronger.

“I – she sighed – I have been dependent on dreamless sleep too,” she admitted.

“I know.”

“Oh. Did Pansy - ?”

“No. Though I think Pansy and I realised at the same time, when you almost had a breakdown in transfiguration. Like I said, we both gave into it, so we recognised the signs. If she hadn’t pulled you out of that class when she did, I would have stepped-in myself. Are you still using ?”

“No. I mean yes, I am, but only half a vial every other day. Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, you said occlumency made your nightmares worse, but you started teaching it to me to help with them. How does that work?”

“You are occluding to calm you overwrought mind Granger. You think so much that it overwhelms your subconscious mind. The techniques you are using, help you relax your mind, like deep meditation. I had walled myself in. I would block everything happening around me. I went in so deep that I would block my thoughts, keep burying them so deep that I couldn’t feel anything; so they poured out the only way they could, when I wasn’t awake to supress them.

“I’m sorry. For all that you’ve had to endure,” she said a little muted.

“We’ve all had to endure shit Granger. Isn’t that one of the reasons you, Potter and Weasley aren’t joined at the hip anymore?”

“I’m surprised at your insight. Yes, we were alone all of last year, together yes, but cut-off from the world. We were just – tired, hungry, isolated, and fucking running for our lives, all while trying to figure out how to destroy that maniac. I think you’re right, while the entire experience has brought us together in an ineffable way, we also need some space from each other. Not too much, but just enough to have more people in our lives.”

They stayed like that for a while before Hermione spoke again. “I would like to do this again; go on a run – with you, if it’s not too much of an invasion.”

“Alright. How about we make it a new routine? Morning runs ending with a little occlumency. You still have a ways to go; the running should help you clear your mind better.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

She stood up to leave, brushing the grass off her.

“Granger?”

“Hm?”

“If you have a bad day – if you feel too compelled to – um – take your potion, come find me, or Pansy – whoever you’re more comfortable with.”

And so began Hermione’s new routine. She would wake up at dawn. She and Malfoy would go for their morning run, then he would help her build up her mental walls. The room in her mind had started taking shape, it was the kitchen from her parents’ house. She found it easier to control the access to her memories when she was in this room. It had so much love and happiness infused in it that it gave her the extra boost of confidence she needed whenever Draco was trying to test her. He never pushed her too hard, both physically and mentally, only challenging her in small and gradual increments. Once they were both exhausted, they would usually sit by the lake and have lengthy conversations. Hermione had told Draco about their camping and their running, about how Ron had left, how Harry had almost broken. When she had told him of her escape on the Dragon, his eyes had gotten so wide they could’ve dropped out. He, in turn told her about his own struggles. Being in Voldemort’s army had been a nightmare. He told her how they were constantly threatened, never able to escape the watchful eyes around them, trying to circumnavigate the ‘missions’, and then having to face Voldemort’s wrath. He told her of the torture both within and out, and the constant despair they felt. How, all of them slowly realised that the life they were having to endure was not the one they wanted to live.

One day, they were both lying on their backs on the grass, enjoying the mild morning sun, when Draco asked her the question she had been dreading, “what about your parents? You never talk about them”

She sighed. Even though she had told Theo the gist of what had happened with her parents, she found herself conflicted now. She wanted to tell Malfoy everything. But she didn’t have the heart to put into words what had happened.

“They’re alright,” she said shortly.  

“But?”

“I obliviated them. I removed myself from their memories and sent them to Australia.”

“You never went back?”

“I did.”

“Will you tell me about it.”

“I – I would rather you watch what happened,” she said hesitantly, knowing he wouldn’t like it.

“Granger – I couldn’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. I won’t be able to tell you. Not without breaking down a hundred times. But I want you to know, so.. please Malfoy.”

“I’ll be as gentle I can.”

“Go ahead.”

It was a cool evening as Hermione and Harry arrived at the International Portkey Terminal in Australia. Both arrivals still had that haunted and gaunt look to them, having travelled less than a fortnight after the Battle of Hogwarts. Ron had chosen to stay back as his family was still grieving the loss of Fred. Secretly Hermione was relieved that it was just her and Harry. After being forced to spend so much time alone together they had developed a new bond. While, Harry had always been her best friend, she had always been his second, always coming after Ron. But after Ron had left, their relationship had morphed. He had become her family, and she had felt the change in him as well. They apparated to the lane her parents new home was in. Hermione had called the Welkins’, pretending to be their friends’ daughter Annie, visiting Australia to tour their universities. Hermione knocked on the door, full of trepidation.

Hermione saw her memory of the day unfold as she and Harry had made small-talk with occasional probing questions, trying to look for any cracks in her parents’ new identities. They had spoken in length, asking the elder couple how they had managed to settled in Australia, how their dental practice was doing. Knowing what was coming next, Hermione braced herself.

Harry was taking his first bite of desert, sugar-free pistachio ice-cream, when he casually asked, “Do you have any children? Annie didn’t mention any before when telling me about you?”

Hermione’s dad had looked over to his mom, a sad smile on his lips.

“We wanted kids when we were young, but it never happened for us, and we are happy as we are now.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No, not at all,” said her mom, “we have each other, and our life here is as well as we could wish for. We shifted continents because we were ready for a new adventure, and we have no regrets.” She then asked expectantly, “now you must tell me, how did you two meet?”

“We aren’t together,” corrected Harry quickly, “Her – Annie is like a sister to me, I didn’t want her to come her alone. We’ve been through too much together.”

The memory skipped ahead a few hours. Hermione had scheduled a healer to assess her parents. She had added dreamless sleep to her parents’ coffee cups when they had retreated to the sofa to watch the evening news. She was extremely uncomfortable violating their privacy in such a way, but she could think of no other way.

They opened the door to the healer, having explained the situation beforehand. She cast a diagnostics charm on both of them, spending a long time reading some kinds of graphs and charts that the charm was projecting.

After almost an hour of silent assessment, she looked at Hermione and explained,  “Your parents do not have any lingering memories of you. The green lines in their brain mapping depict their memories from before they moved here,” she had said showing them a large network of synaptic lines. You see, if they were broken, your parents might have been a little confused, maybe experienced headaches or loss of time presently, but it would’ve meant we had a little leeway to introduce the lost memories. However, they’ve completely healed together. Which is why they’re able to lead normal lives. It’s a good thing, but not when you’re looking for a way to reverse obliviation. If we tried to introduce all those memories now, we would have to target and break these bonds, introduce the memories, and then heal them again, which would cause too much disruption, be a long and excruciating journey, with no guarantees. It is my professional opinion, that their obliviation should not be reversed.”

“I’m sorry,” she added kindly, looking at Hermione with pity in her eyes.

“You can always re-introduce yourself into their world. Not as their daughter, but maybe as a niece, or a friend. Make new memories with them.”

Hermione only nodded, tears streaming down her face as Harry thanked the healer and saw her out. They cleaned up after themselves, leaving the Welkins on the couch with the television on. So when they woke it would just seem like they had fallen asleep.

They walked around for a long time, not being familiar enough with any places to apparate, and not ready to leave yet. Finally, they spent the night in a bed and breakfast, where Harry cast a muffliato over their room, and Hermione spent the night crying herself hoarse as he held her close.

The next morning, Harry ordered breakfast for them both, Hermione still being too inert to move.

“Hermione?” he asked tentatively. When she didn’t respond, he spoke to her quietly.

“I – I wish this hadn’t happened. I have wished so many times that Voldemort was never in my life. He took away my parents, my family. There are so many times that I would wonder what my life would be like if he had just not existed. But, it was my cross to bear, he hurt my family and marked me so I had to defeat him, you know. But now, now you’ve lost your family – and I’m not sure I can blame it on him. I feel like I did this. If you hadn’t known me, if we hadn’t been friends –

“Stop Harry,” Hermione intervened. “If we hadn’t been friends I would still have fought in this war. I would’ve joined the order, or I would’ve stayed at school to help all the other muggle-borns. I would’ve still sent my  parents away to protect them.”

“Yeah, maybe. I just wish I could’ve done something. Helped save all the people we’ve lost,” he said despondently.

“Harry you can’t save everyone. You are a seventeen year old who has had to live his childhood preparing to and then having to defeat the darkest wizard in history! My decision was my own. I will never blame your for it. It’s just that – I had foolishly hoped – that we would be able to restore their memories. I had imagined us going back home. They would’ve been angry, maybe hurt, maybe they wouldn’t trust me for a while. But in the end I had hope that we would go back - to being a family.”

Tears were beginning to fight their way out again.

“You will always have me Hermione. No matter what.”

“And you will always have me Harry.”

He had kissed her on the forehead then. “What do you want to do now? We can stay here for as long as you like, make new memories as the healer suggested.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet, but there is one thing I want to do before we return.”

They went back to her parents’ house that evening, pretending to thank them for their hospitality for the last night, hoping they hadn’t minded that they had left without waking them up.

“Sorry, can I just use your loo?,” asked Harry. He ran up the stairs while Hermione charmed her parents memories. Harry sneaked into their room and installed a picture of her younger self on their wall with a permanent sticking charm.

Draco withdrew himself from the memory, and Hermione had to acquaint herself to her present surroundings.

“What did you do, in the end?”

“I added a memory. A memory of their niece Hermione, who had spent an entire summer break with them when she was eleven, in their old house. They had grown very fond of her, which is why they now have a picture of her in their room. And then before we left, Harry obliviated them, so they didn’t remember meeting us at all.”

Draco came up to her and wrapped his arms around her, and slowly, with the rising sun, Hermione let go the memory of her parents all over again.