we can’t be friends

Hermone is floating. She looks down at her feet, and they're nearly three inches off the ground. Her entire being seems weightless, her curls drifting around her face, hands loosely by her sides. Twisting, she tries to take in her surroundings and feels a lump form in her throat.

Draco’s apartment is as clean as she remembers. Cream colored walls shining from the firelight in his fireplace, the plush sea green carpet extending from the hearth to the entryway. He’s sitting upright on the couch, his legs spread and dragon hyde boots digging into the floor. Hermione is atop his lap, her thighs bracketing his hips as she kisses him, her hands digging into the material of his scarf.

Draco lets out a low moan, fingers gripping her backside so hard Hermione can see his knuckles go white. Past Hermione giggles against Draco's mouth, pulling back slightly and sucking in air.

“I take it you missed me?” Draco says with a cheshire grin, and Past Hermione rolls her eyes, letting out a sharp yelp when he smacks her on the behind.

“Maybe,” she says with a wink. “Your office trips are far too long in my opinion.”

Leaning forward, Draco nips at her jaw, hands slapping on Past Hermione's back and holding her to him. “Mmm I agree. I was away far too long from my precious girl.”

Hermione feels her cheeks heat as she watches her past self tug Draco’s scarf away from his neck and looping it around one of her wrists. “I have a game we can play.”

“A game?” Draco asks, his blonde brows knitted. Past hermione nods, her lower lip slipping between her teeth. She leans forward and places the scarf in Draco's hands before holding his hands up to her face.

He makes a pleased sound before quickly looping the scarf around her eyes, tying it securely at the back of her head.

Hermione remembers this night. She hadn’t thought about it in a long time, and her stomach lurches.

Draco runs his hands up and down Past Hermione’s arms, her skin prickling under his touch and he hums. “There, there. I’m here.”

He kisses her, and Hermione remembers how plush his mouth was, how he smelled of cider aftershave. Draco stands, pulling her legs around his waist and carries her to the kitchen. Placing her on the dining table, he kneels before her, and slowly begins to untie her shoes. Once they're gone, he drags her stockings down her legs, revealing skin, and Hermione shivers when Draco presses a kiss to Past Hermione’s ankle.

She doesn’t need a pensive-like machine to jog her memory of that night. She recalls it all too easily.

They had fucked first on the table and then the floor, his head between her legs as he whispered praises into her as she came. Hermione recalls having a slight bruise on her tailbone, a hickey on her collarbones, bruising that she had worn with pride the next day.

The viewing of Draco and Past Hermione begins to wither into black, and Hermione exhales sharply as Past Hermione comes back into view, sitting atop the dining table alone. She looks a little confused, hopping off of the table and reaches for a set of keys. Slipping on her coat, Past Hermione scribbles a note before setting the keys atop it, her heels clicking on the floor as she enters the living room of the home that she is attempting to sell. If successful, this would be her third home sold in a month, and she grins in satisfaction at herself. Glancing around the room, she makes sure it's prepared for the new home owners before throwing Floo powder into the fireplace, and exiting.

Hermione feels her body shift, her inability to cling to any solid object suddenly becoming obvious and her body flips. She lets out a small shriek, her eyes squeezing shut. When she stills, she opens them and finds herself face to face with herself.

Past hermione sits on the foot of her bed, her feet tucked beneath her and hair loose down her back. On the other end, Draco lays with his back to her, but Hermione can tell he’s awake, his gray eyes open and stormy.

Past Hermione inhales slowly, rubs her lips together. Hermione remembers this night. She can’t remember what the fight was about, but she remembers the outcome. Sighing, Past Hermione rubs her temples before standing, the comforter rising in her wake. Draco is still, his form rising and falling slowly and Past Hermione looks at his back in frustration. She walks to the door of her apartment and flings it open. A flurry of snow and mist fly through the open door, and Hermione nearly feels it on her skin.

When her eyes adjust, she watches as Past Hermione and Draco lay in the snow, their arms and legs extended as they make snow angels. Past Hermione laughs and Draco grins, his long fingers reaching out and gliding against hers. Hermione feels a pang in her gut, smiling at the memory. It had been the day before Christmas, one of the first Christmas’ Draco had without both his parents, and Hermione had decided to make an extravagant dinner for the two of them. After they ate, they went outside, laid on the fresh snow and watched the stars.

“Gorgeous isn't it?” Past Hermione says, craning her neck to look at him. Draco smiles, twisting his face towards her.

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

Simultaneously, Past Hermione and Hermione grin. Draco’s fingers brush Past Hermione's hand, and Hermione recalls how cold his skin had felt against hers. Past Hermione turns on her side, her arm beneath her head, and Hermione feels her stomach lurch before she squeezes her eyes shut. When she opens them, Past Hermione lays in the snow alone, her curls fanned out around her like a halo. She turns onto her back, begins moving her arms and legs to create a singular snow angel.

Hermione feels a shift again, the familiar feeling crawling up her spine before her body launches, and when her eyes fly open she feels a tad queasy.

In the dark light of the moon, Hermione can make out Past Hermione laying on her bed, Draco beside her and their hands intertwined. Her hair is tied in a ponytail, a green emerald necklace around her neck and she’s smiling.

“I think I'd marry you under a troll bridge if you’d have me.” Draco jokes and Past Hermione lets out a twinkle of a laugh, her eyes creasing at the corners.

“Don’t be daft!” she grins, and Draco shrugs, the slopes of his collarbones moving in the moonlight.

“I’m serious Granger, I’d do it,” He replies, his tone like velvet. “I’d marry you wherever you wanted.”

Hermione smiles, clasps her hands and mouths the words that come out of Past Hermione’s mouth. “Maybe someday, Malfoy.”

Draco leans forward, presses his lips to Past Hermiones and their eyes flutter shut. His hand releases hers, skirting up her arm and to the back of her neck, curling in her hair. Pulling, he cranes her neck up, sucks gently on her lower lip before pressing kisses to her chin, her jaw. Past Hermione exhales softly, and Hermione remembers how his lips felt on her skin, his hand in her hair.

Pushing her to her back, Draco settles between Past Hermione’s legs, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I love you.” He murmurs into her neck, nibbling and making Past Hermione giggle. She wraps her arms around Draco’s neck, pulling him to her, leaving little space between them. Hermione feels her eyes grow wet and she sniffs, feels the pull and squeezes her eyes shut.

When her body settles, she lets out a shaky breath, gazes around the dining room. Draco sits cross legged on the table, a match between his fingers as he lights the candles of a birthday cake. Dressed in a pink chiffon dress, Past Hermine watches him with loving eyes, a smile tugging at her mouth. Blowing out the match, Draco leans forward.

“I believe the muggle expression is to ‘make a wish’?” he says, uncertainty in his tone and Past Hermione nods.

“I don't need to,” she says happily, leaning on her palms. “I already have everything a witch could wish for.”

Draco chuckles, leaning forward. Past Hermione does the same, and as their lips are about to touch, Draco is gone. Hermione gasps so harshly she feels like the wind has been sucked from her. Past Hermione glances around, confusion painted across her features.

“W-wait,” Hermione whispers. “This isn’t how it happened.”

Past Hermione chews on her lower lip for a moment before dipping her head, and blows out the candles, alone.

Hermione shoots up forward, her hands flinging out, grasping the chair beneath her, the other clutching to the emerald necklace around her neck. From somewhere behind her, a metallic beeping is going off, and she feels a tear run down her cheek.

Hands press to her shoulders, keeping her still and suddenly Neville is in her frame of sight, saying her name, asking her if she’s alright.

“What happened?” she wheezes, the urge to cry so strong it leaves her shaking. He glances at the machine to her left, his glasses drooping on his nose.

“You unlinked.” He says matter of factly before giving her a pointed look. “Important memory?”

She nods, swallowing. “My twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Mmm,” Neville says softly, nodding at the nurse who turns back to the machine. “We’ll you unlinked so give us a moment and we’ll relink.”

A nurse pats Hermione's shoulder gently, and Hermione looks up, feels another tear fall. She tries to smile but it hurts, pulls at her skin the wrong way.

“M-maybe we can leave this one?” Hermione sobs, her voice cracking. The nurse pauses, their eyes dimming as they grasp her meaning. “Can I keep this one?”

The nurse gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze before pushing her back onto the chair and Hermione squeezes her eyes shut, rubs her thumb over the necklace pendant. Spreading her hand out over her chest, Hermione wills herself not to cry as the machines relink her.

When she opens her eyes, Hermione sees Draco and Past Hermione cuddled on her couch, Past Hermione’s head leaning on his shoulder. He presses a chaste kiss to her hair before reaching behind himself and grasping a small box. He holds it out to her with a boyish grin.

“What's this for?” Past Hermione says happily, taking the box. Draco shrugs, the corners of his mouth quirked in a smirk.

“My witch deserves all the gifts for her newest promotion at the ministry.” he replies, nodding at the box. “Go on.”

Past Hermione unlaces the ribbon from around the box, lets the lid fall and a small gasp escapes her mouth. A green emerald sparkles from within, a gold chain laced through it. With trembling fingers, she picks it up, lets the necklace dangle between her fingers, the gem twinkling as it sways.

“Draco… this is,” Past Hermione breathes, her eyes bouncing from the gem to him. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense.” Draco says quickly, waving a dismissive hand. Hermione smiles, remembering the way her chest had warmed, her blood had thrummed.

Leaning forward, Draco kisses Past Hermione swiftly before pulling away with a grin. “Congratulations my darling.”

Hermione’s lower lip trembles as she watches her past self give Draco the necklace and he undoes the clasp, slipping it around her neck. Past Hermione lifts her hair so Draco can see before dropping it and spinning in his arms. She kisses him so hard Hermione nearly remembers how it feels as she watches. Pressing into his side, Past Hermione licks a stripe up his neck, her hands on his collar as Draco hums, gray eyes heavy with lust.

“I love you.” Past Hermione whispers and Draco smiles, his mouth sliding over hers. Hermione blinks quickly as Draco fades, and Past Hermione is left alone.

Her head leaning on the back of the couch, Past Hermione yawns, stretches out her legs as she reads over her promotion letter once more and grins. Folding the letter, she places it on the coffee table before reaching for her glass of wine, eyes trailing to the low buzz of the tv. Hermione furrows her brows, taking in the scene. That promotion had been one of the best she’d ever received, and she celebrated it alone? Hermione places a hand to her necklace, digs her thumb into the jewel as her stomach begins to churn, her body swaying and she’s nearly familiar with the sensation as she squeezes her eyes shut.

-

Sitting up, Hermione lets out a sharp gasp. Neville stands before her with his hands in his pocket, a brow raised in her direction. “Alright Hermione?”

Hermione swallows thickly before she nods, looking around the room. “Did it work?”

“What are you here for?” Neville says as a nurse hands him a clipboard. Hermione opens her mouth in confusion before shutting it and looking at her hands. What was she here for?

Neville drags a chair in front of her, pushing his glasses up his face. “Let's try again. I’m Dr. Longbottom, you’re Hermione Granger. You scheduled a Selective Obliviation appointment here at Brighter Days. Do you remember that?”

Hermione clenches her hands in her lap before she looks up at him, her brown eyes determined. “Yes. I went through a break up.”

“Very good,” Neville replies with a cautious smile. “Who did you break up with?”

“I…” Hermione pauses, tries to recall a face. She can make out gray eyes shining in the sun, carding her hands through white blonde hair. “I’m not sure.”

Glancing at his clipboard, Neville gives a nod. “Very good indeed.”

Neville informs her that her operation was a success, and that she might have a side effect of exhaustion but should be good as new after a decent night's rest. He also informs her that she had been dating Draco Malfoy, and he is unaware of her procedure.

“Should you have a run in with him, you can be open about your decision at Brighter Days, but be aware he may not be thrilled about it,” Neville says, folding her medical documents. “Some wizarding folk believe Brighter Days to be unorthodox.”

Hermione is taken aback at his words. She has a hard time believing she and Draco would have ever been a couple, but Neville obviously knew what he was talking about. She must have loved him a lot if she needed to forget him entirely to get over him.

“Thank you Neville.” Hermione says and shakes his hand. Neville smiles, his hand warm in hers.

“Of course,” He replies as he walks her from the room and into the main office. Leaning against the door, he gives her a small wave. “Between you and me, I always thought you could do better than Malfoy.”

Hermione chuckles lightly before she waves a hand, and walks from Brighter Days, and into the sun.