we can’t be friends

“I think she’s actually showered.” Ginny whispers, and Hermione squints as they walk arm in arm across the outdoor seating of the restaurant.

Pansy is sitting at their usual spot, her red nails tapping at the lip of her cup impatiently. She looks clean and crisp, a stark contrast to how she had been looking the past several weeks after her breakup had made it to the Daily Prophet. Pictures of her and Theo had been splashed across the pages for days, and Pansy had been in shambles. Now, she resembles the look of someone who has just left their hair appointment, obsessed with the results.

“Ladies!” Pansy calls when she sees them, a bright smile on her face. Ginny and Hermione slide into their seats, giving the waiter that approaches them their orders and immediately leaning forward.

“You look like a million gallons.” Ginny breathes, her freckled face a mix of curiosity and confusion. “I take it you’ve found a new bloke?”

Pansy wiggles her brows before giving a singular shake of her head. “Nope!” she says and grins. “Did you two ever keep up with Longbottom after graduation?”

Hermione thinks on this. Last she’d heard, he’d gotten married to Luna, moved to the countryside, nothing overtly noteworthy. The waiter sets their cups before them, and Hermione lifts a spoon, twirling it thoughtfully.

“Isn’t he married now?” Hermione says, and Pansy rolls her eyes with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Yes yes but that's unimportant,” she sniffs before leaning forward, chin in her palm. “He’s opened a memory clinic. A few months ago actually, been working on it since he graduated, Brighter Days he calls it.”

“Oh?” Ginny says, lifting her cup to her lips. Pansy nods and Hermione wonders where she could possibly be going with this train of thought.

“It’s an obliviation-focused mind center. You take a box of everything that contains reminiscences of the person you want to forget, and they go in and eliminate them from your head!” Pansy exclaims. “It costs a fortune but now I can't even recall… What's his name again?”

Hermione feels her mouth fall ajar. “Theo?”

“Right! Theo,” Pansy says, and reaches for her cup. “Now it’s like he and I never existed. To me anyways, which is all that matters.”

Ginny and Hermione exchange confused glances. Placing her mug back on its saucer, Hermione clears her throat. “Pans I’m so glad you're feeling better but, don’t you think that’s…odd?” she tries, and Pansy frowns. “I mean you were together for years.”

“And now we’re not.” Pansy declares. She takes a sip, her lipstick leaving behind a dull stain on the porcelain. “No sense in me just dwelling on it.”

“But you shared so much with him,” Ginny points out. “And now those memories are just what… gone?”

Pansy nods. “Mostly. Or altered. Instead of me remembering snuggling with him on the couch, I recall burying my face in Penelope's fur!”

Hermione lets out a low chuckle at the mention of Pansy’s dog, a consolation gift the dark-haired witch had purchased for herself the day after Theo moved out.

“While I'm sure that’s… easier to swallow,” Hermione says cautiously. “You can’t just not remember him.”

Tapping a nail against the table, Pansy narrows her eyes. “Yes, I can. And I already have.”

“And it’s safe?” Ginny challenges with a skeptical look. “Obliviation in itself is risky.”

“Yes, it’s completely safe and very little down time,” Pansy answers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Longbottom wins an award or something for his research.”

“What’re the side effects?” Hermione asks, intrigued. She isn’t sure if she completely agrees with Pansy’s reasoning but she can’t help but be interested.

Pansy shrugs. “Nothing really besides memory replacement during a certain time period of your choosing. So, I still remember him from school but I can’t remember how we went about dating.”

“You met up again at one of Draco’s matches-“ Hermione begins but Pansy shushes her instantly.

“Granger! I paid all this money to not recall my time with him, remember?” She nearly shrieks and Ginny puts a hand over her lips to hide a laugh.

Hermione raises a skeptical brow but drops it. “I wonder what else Brighter Days offers. I feel like that process could be useful in trauma responses.” She says and takes a sip of her tea. Ginny nods, red hair slipping over her shoulders.

“Very true,” Ginny replies and for a moment her eyes darken. “I wonder if it can help the grieving process.”

Pansy leans into her palm, eyes darting between the two witches. “If you’re suggesting using it as a way to get over someone’s death, I don’t think you’ll be approved.”

“Approved?” Hermione and Ginny say in unison, and Pansy nods.

“There’s a whole list of prerequisites you have to pass and go through to even be considered, and then you have to sit down and do a verbal evaluation with Longbottom,” Pansy replies, reaching for her glass. “He’s the one that makes the final call.”

“How interesting.” Ginny muses, and Hermione agrees. She always believed Neville was smart, but this type of mix of magic and science was revolutionary. It intrigues her greatly, her thoughts quickly weighing out the pro’s and con’s of Brighter Days.

As the women finish their tea, Hermione waves goodbye, fishing out her mobile from her robes. Dialing her desired number, she holds the device to her ear, moving swiftly in between tables.

“I will never get used to this.” Draco says as he answers. Hermione snorts, barely suppressing an eyeroll.

“And that's why we’ll continue to use it,” she replies. “Practice makes perfect after all.”

“I miss you, when are you coming back?” Draco says instead of answering her. She can’t help but smile, her bottom lip slipping between her teeth.

“You just saw me this morning.” she chuckles and adjusts her purse on her shoulder.

“That barely counts, you were mostly asleep by the time I had to leave.”

Feet clipping on the cobblestones, Hermione tries to recall what had happened earlier in the day. “You’re right, I was indeed mostly asleep. Having a wonderful dream you awoke me from, actually.”

“Mmm? What was the dream?” Draco asks, and his tone makes her swallow. In the two years they’d been together, she still wasn't used to the feelings he could evoke from her even when he wasn’t in the room.

“Well, we were on holiday… It was hot. We were laying on the sand, feeling the sun on our skin.”

“Sounds lovely. Were we naked?” he asks and she laughs, taking the steps to the Floo network two at a time.

“No, you git. Well, you were shirtless, in swimming trunks.” she replies and draco hums on the other end of the line.

“Tell me you were in that striped bikini I love on you.” he murmurs and she suppresses another eyeroll.

“Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't,” she laughs, moving the phone to her other ear. “Listen I'm at the Floo, I’ll see you in a moment okay?”

Draco laughs, the sound deep like waves. “See you soon, love.”

Hermione ends the call, sliding the phone into her pockets as she grabs a pinch of Floo powder, and calls out Draco’s address before walking in.

The smell of chicken wafts into her nose the moment she steps out of the fireplace. Dropping her bag to the couch, Hermione grins as she takes in Draco’s back. His sleeves are rolled up as he chops an onion, a cream apron wrapped around his waist.

“Smells delightful.” Hermione says, slipping her arms around his waist and giving him a squeeze. Draco hums before twisting in her grip and placing a kiss atop her head.

“It’s nearly done, take a seat,” He replies. Hermione moves around him and sits down at his dining room table, elbows on the wood. “How was tea with the ladies?”

“Rather interesting,” Hermione sighs and runs her hands in her hair. “Are you familiar with Brighter Days?”

Draco looks up with a confused expression. “Should I be?”

“No, I was just curious. Anyways, apparently Neville started his own selective obliviation company,” Hermione replies, watching as Draco bends to open the oven. He slips on oven mitts before reaching inside, and pulling a tray out. “Pansy went, got treated.”

“Treated for..?” Draco asks and Hermione shrugs.

“Apparently she obliviated Theo from herself.” Hermione replies. Draco pauses his movements before settling the tray into the middle of the table.

“She what?”

Hermione nods. “I know! She just… erased him. She knows who he is, knows they dated but doesn’t remember the dating. The last three or so years of him? Down the drain.”

Draco straightens and unties the apron from around his waist before settling in the chair beside her. Hermione reaches for the bottle of wine on the table and pours them both a glass, her mind moving faster than her mouth.

“I think it’s a bit of an overreaction, in my opinion,” she says, recapping the bottle. Draco begins to cut into the chicken, steam rising from the meat and Hermione feels her stomach growl. “Yes it’s supposed to hurt but that's how you learn from them.”

“I’m assuming the treatment is expensive,” Draco replies and Hermione nods. “I can’t say I'm surprised by her decision but, it does seem like she rushed into it.”

“I agree,” Hermione sighs, picking up her cutlery. “What if she’s cut off any chance of them working things out and becoming, i don’t know, friends maybe?”

Draco snorts, puts a piece of chicken on his own plate. “My love, those two could never be anything but lovers. They’d kill each other if they were anything less.”

Hermione cuts into her chicken, taking a bite with a nod. They eat in easy conversation, Draco making her laugh so hard that her sides ache, and as they finish cleaning the kitchen together, he wraps his arms around her waist, pressing his front to her back and putting his chin atop her head.

“You smell nice.” He mumbles into her hair and Hermione giggles, soap caking up to her elbows as she scrubs a dish.

“My hair’s obnoxious,” she complains, and Draco makes a tutting sound.

“Nonsense,” he replies cooley, releasing his hold and reaching for the clean dish in her hands. “I hope my children have your hair.”

Hermione pauses, her tongue heavy in her mouth. She wants children, of course. She would love to have little blonde babies running around their home as she tries to get them packed for Hogwarts. Children had always been something she knew was in her future.

The thought of tying her soul to another's was an entirely different matter.

In the long line of Malfoy marriages, every couple was soultied to their intended. It ensured that the union would hold fast even in the instances of external affairs or death. Once tied, they could never be separated, forever be one. Draco, ever the traditionalist, believed children should be brought up in a married, unified home; the thought of a pregnancy out of wedlock was unheard of for him.

And the thought terrified her.

Hermione smiles tightly at him, and begins to scrub another plate. Submerging it into the water, her hands are damp as she passes it to him. Draco takes the plate and kisses her squarely on the nose.

She yelps, lets out a surprised laugh and gives him a look. Draco grins, baring his teeth, and Hermione has taken two steps away before she feels his hand on her arm, pulling her back. She turns and his lips descend upon hers, dragging her close as he kisses her.

Her hips are pinned to the sink, and his warm body presses hard against the length of her. Taught muscle against her soft curves, and his hands are needy, roaming everywhere, licking flames across her skin. She gasps into his mouth and the kiss deepens, ravaging and consuming.

Eyes fluttering closed she melts into his arms as she grips onto the fabric of his shirt and pulls him closer. Finding the buttons under his collar she undoes them, pushing it from his shoulders. Draco’s tongue slides down the side of her throat and she grips his shoulders as he bites at the junction of her shoulder and neck, groaning into her skin. The sound ignites her within.

Somehow they make it to their bedroom, and she isn’t sure how, her entirety lost in him. The air is thick when she feels the soft sheets beneath her. Her top has been lost somewhere along the way, and she feels his fingers pushing at her skirt, dragging down her thighs. His lips skim her skin before his teeth nip her shoulder and she shudders, eyes squeezing as her fingers fly across his bare skin.

Kneeling over her, Draco’s eyes are blown. Her fingers run down his chest slowly, touching the scar in the center of his chest with care. His hand closes over hers, squeezing gently as he holds it there. Pulling at him, Hermione drags her hand across the rippling muscles of his shoulders, her lips tingling from the pressure of their kisses.

Draco slips an arm behind her head and tangles his fingers through her hair, pulling her impossibly closer, breathing in the heavy aroma of her skin and twisting in the sheets of his bed.

Skin and sheets, Hermione tangles herself around him and drops kisses up and down his throat. Her tongue slides across his collarbones, listening to the way he gasps, tasting him.

He’s given her the power to nearly break him.

Shoving at his shoulder, she pushes him to his back, crawling down the length of his body and pressing kisses to every inch of skin she can reach. She pulls at his boxers and he lifts his hips, lets her pull them off. When she grips him, he makes a strangled sound, and she gently licks at his head. Draco huffs, his skin glistening and she takes him into her mouth.

She bobs her head, sucking him easily, her cheeks hollowing as her tongue stays flat against him. Draco lets out another strangled sound, his hands tight on the sheets as Hermione moves. With a light pop she releases him from her mouth, sliding up his frame and kissing him. Pushing her onto her back, Hermione feels him pull at the remainder of their clothing until she’s bare beneath him. He’s molten against her, parting her legs and pressing into her. There's a pinch and a sharp sound catches in her throat, nails digging into his skin.

Draco pauses, white blonde hair falling into his eyes as he waits for her to relax. He kisses her raggedly, and Hermione runs a hand into his hair, down his neck. Shifting beneath him, she rolls her hips and he gasps, tangles his fingers in her hair once more to pull her head back, his teeth scraping against her. Hermione keens and her hips jump against his. He jerks before sinking further. He moves within her, long deep strokes that pull exquisite feelings to the surface. Lips and hands dance across sweat-slick skin, arms and legs tangled. Their fingers entwine and she rolls her hips again, kisses across his face. Draco’s forehead meets hers and he gasps.

Draco’s lips caress her and his fingers tighten as he pins her hands above her head, his thrusts becoming harder. Quicker. The pleasure is white-hot, until she's whimpering, teetering at the edge, and Hermione pulls her hands free and wraps her arms around him, trying to cling to anything as she shatters in his arms.

When she stops trembling, he kisses her between the eyes, his nose dragging against her face gently. She feels boneless, her muscles like liquid, but when his breathing becomes ragged one more, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and he buries his face in her neck.

They’re gasping in an intertwined mess of limbs for a moment before he lifts himself and drops beside her, pulling her to his chest and dragging the sheets around them. He kisses her hairline, and Hermione shivers as she curls closer. Draco wraps his arms around her, his chin resting on the crown of her head, and she slips a hand to his chest, feeling the steady tempo of his heartbeat.

Eyelids growing heavy, she allows the thrumming of his blood to lull her to sleep, his taste still heavy on her tongue.