I remember nothing
The fifth-floor nook was their sanctuary, a well hidden alcove filled with squishy seats tightly surrounding a worn coffee table. They spent many hours nestled in its cushions, studying and sharing their worries and dreams.
It was one of those evenings late in the hour when Hermione’s reading was interrupted by the sound of a body scraping around the corner along the wall. Draco groaned as he collapsed across her lap, his blonde hair drenched in sweat and sticking to his neck and forehead as he wheezed in pain.
“Draco! What happened to you?”
He flinched from her hand and she yanked it back as if burned. “Granger? I-I don’t know, I remember nothing, I don’t even know why I came here…” he babbled as he tugged furiously at his hair, spitting his words out in frustration. He flipped himself off her, lying on his back across the far side of the love seat. “It feels like my head is splitting apart.”
She approached him again, hands raised within his line of sight. He narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion and she froze.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“If you’ll let me, I’ll peek inside, check your shields, that sort of thing.”
“And why would I let you into my head like that?” He scoffed, still glaring at her in suspicion.
“Because we’ve done it plenty of times before. You taught me legilimency, Draco. Occlumency, too…and I think someone made you forget.”
His eyes widened at the claim, but he made no further movement away from her. Hermione slowly reached out her hands, giving him all the time to stop her if he truly wanted it. Instead, he took a deep breath once her fingers slid into his damp hair, briefly closing his eyes as her thumbs massaged his temples.
When his eyes reopened, they were clear and determined, much closer to the eyes she had come to know as dearly as her own over the past year.
“Go ahead.”