"No matter what I do, I always forget to forget you"
Draco Malfoy woke up on the large silk-covered bed with a dull throbbing sensation in his head that hung over him like a cold fog. Swallowing the potion by his bedside, he proceeded to get dressed, sip his morning tea and read the mail.
He grumbled to himself when he received one from a swotty ex-Gryffindor. She would be visiting to survey his estate, as an employee of Magical Law Enforcement. Merlin knew why she of all people had to be assigned to him.
Spending the better part of the hour reading the paper, he was broken out of his reverie when a house elf appeared on the spot with a 'pop.' It informed him in a high pitched voice, "Miss Hermione Granger to see you, Master Malfoy."
Thinking of all the ways he could hex the Ministry and its damned nosiness, he grabbed his things. They really should think twice before owling him at the last minute and demanding inspections. Weren't they supposed to give at least a week's notification before barging into places they don't belong?
Striding into his office with a sigh, he found her sitting primly, dressed in a ruffly top and a pencil skirt. Without a single greeting, he tacitly offered her the papers he had signed earlier. She took it in similar silence, and he casually leaned back in his seat to observe her.
Her curls were tumbling all over her face, unrestrained and wild, accentuating the softness of her complexion. Lost in thought, she bit her plump rose lips and sighed breathily as she turned the pages. The sound went straight to his groin.
Draco jerked in horror at the thoughts pervading his brain. Violently shaking himself out of it, he reached for something to ameliorate the nausea rising in his stomach.
"What are you doing?" she looked at him curiously, when he tried to swallow ten mints at once.
"Nothing," he snapped, then mutterd more quietly to himself, "just going mad is all."
She gazed at him, her eyes glinting in something akin to triumph. He tilted his head defiantly at her, as if challenging her to question his sanity. When she continued to watch him mutely, he grumbled at her.
"Well, what are you staring at? The sooner you're done, the faster I'll be able to erase this rendezvous from my memory," he sneered.
She flinched as though she had been stricken, but instead stuck her chin up at him, and hurriedly finished checking over his signatures. He tried to avoid peering over at her as she bent over the papers, running a finger along every curve of his scrawled writing as if to dissect it completely.
"Well I'm done here," she said finally, snapping the files shut.
"Great," he muttered scathingly before turning away.
He did not understand what the sharp stinging feeling in his gut was, but it only intensified as he caught the sorrowful expression in her dark eyes before she escaped into the fire. She was gone -- finally.
Moving the messy pile of papers on his desk to one side, he stopped when he caught sight of a shriveled up parchment. On it were six words, which he instantly recognized as his own writing.
"Your heart lies behind your reflection"
What the hell was this? He snatched up the paper and perused it thoroughly. It appeared as though he had written it. So why couldn't he remember it?
He had half a mind to simply toss it out, but the phrasing or something else about the cryptic message was niggling at him.
'Reflection', 'your reflection' ... he stood up to study the mirror in the office. But only his pale angular face stared back, half obscured by the wisps of blond hair. Raising a hand he tapped the surface and tentatively spoke to it, to no avail.
What else could it mean?
He snatched the parchment and read the words over again, pacing back and forth in front of his mirror, feeling desperately as though there was something important he was missing.
"Your heart lies behind your reflection," he murmured the words. And no sooner had he spoken, then the mirror creaked audibly, swiveling around in a half circle until a hidden pocket was revealed behind it.
His mouth hung open as he gazed at what was unmistakably - a Pensieve.
After several minutes of casting revealing spells on the object, he was begrudgingly convinced that it was safe. The only question now was, whose was it? He had never cared much for preserving memories. Nor did any other member of the Malfoy family. But there had to be a reason why it was lying behind his mirror, behind his reflection.
Deciding that it was now or never, he gripped it with his hands. And taking a deep breath, he plunged. He was sinking slowly, deeper and deeper into an abyss that slowly transformed into a long forgotten sight.
Right before his very eyes was himself and Hermione Granger. Draco gaped at the sight.
He looked younger, dressed in a uniform that had a badge pinned on it. Hogwarts ... he was Head Boy ... and Granger ... Head Girl. They were standing in what appeared to be their common room.
Draco was stupefied. For some reason, seventh year had always been a haze to him - a feeling he had always attributed to war trauma. But now here it was, in front of his eyes. He watched in amazement as his younger self grabbed a hold of the brunette.
"Malfoy, let me go," she spat at him, kicking at him.
"Why did you kick Pansy out of our dorm?" he asked her insistently, ignoring her struggles. "She barely spoke two words to you!"
"Yes, because that's as much as her empty head can handle. Now let go of me and just get back to your dimwitted girlfriend!" she screeched.
He released her suddenly, and she glared petulantly at him. His grey eyes shifted over her, pale lips parting in slow wonderment. "...You're jealous," he murmured.
She spluttered, as though offended by the mere suggestion. Muttering invectives at him, she shoved him aside and raced up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind her.
The memory blurred out of focus and Draco stared, puzzled, as he felt himself slipping into another time.
"You've been avoiding me," his drawl stopped her right as she reached their portrait door.
"I have a life, unlike you, Malfoy," she halted then quickly stepped outside, but was pulled back forcefully and slammed against the shut exit.
Draco winced as his past self gripped her arms so hard the bruises could instantly be seen erupting on her skin.
Hermione opened her mouth to yell at him, but he silenced her with a furious kiss. Slipping the heavy bookbag over her shoulder, he dragged rough hands down her arms, grazing them under her shirt. She writhed against him, but his fingers lazily sauntered up along the flat expanse of her stomach, crawling up to her heaving breasts. He pinched them hard.
"M-Malfoy ... please," she gasped suddenly, brown eyes piercing his in need.
"Please - what?" he asked, fingers teasing her skin.
"Please touch me," she groaned against his mouth. Instanly, he dragged her skirt up and ripped her blouse open. Her moans dissolved inextricably into his ...
The moment slowly faded, and Draco shakily dragged himself from the sight as another scene unfolded.
She was cowering on the ground, weak arms searching for her lost wand. A dark figure swooped down upon her and she stumbled backwards.
"Stay the fuck away from her!" Draco roared, hurling a powerful hex at the cloaked wizard. The Death Eater stumbled backwards. Draco raced toward the brunette and gathered her into his arms.
Hundreds of them were advancing upon them, but he shielded her with the only defense he had left - his own body.
She clung onto his shoulders, and he swept his lips over her chattering teeth. Weaving a hand through her curls, he pressed her more tightly against him.
He whispered against her skin. "I have nothing but death now, Hermione. But I will give you the only thing I have left... my heart. Where-wherever we are, however we are, I will always give it you and -- I ask for nothing less than yours in return."
"Dr-raco," she was trembling uncontrollably. "Always. You'll always have my heart."
They held each other as the darkness consumed them.
White walls. Crisp sheets.
It was all so blurry and there was a roaring in his ears, so loud that it took him several moments before a kindly male voice was made audible. A Healer loomed over him, nudging him into wakefulness.
"Mr. Malfoy, stay awake. Listen to me carefully," he said urgently. Draco tried to crawl back under the covers, but the next words hit him like a bludger. "Mr. Malfoy, you have been hit by a modified memory charm. Soon, you will not be able to remember this past year, nor can you retain anything beyond 24 hours."
He froze in shock. The Healer continued speaking, but his vision was slowly going slowly out of focus as the words rang through his head in an endless loop. His limbs were stiff and his heart palpitating.
Only then did he register the brown haired girl curled up in the chair beside his bed, her ragged sobs echoing dully across the room. In her hands were torn robes emblazoned with a serpent emblem. The Healer gave her a pitiful look, then at him, before sweeping out of the room.
And she sobbed again and again, unable to look at him.
"Why? ... Why?" she yelled at some invisible fiend.
Draco staggered back from the scene, away from the howling girl, and the hollow-eyed version of himself who existed three years ago. The pain in his head exploded to massive proportions.
Stepping out of the past, he stared at the swirling mixtures of lost memories and struggled to breathe. He remembered.
With a determined stride, he grasped the powder and disappeared through the flames, his shout echoing in the empty room, "Hermione Granger's flat!"
When he stepped out into the cozy setting that was her home, he was brought up short by the vision of her gazing out her window, looking rather forlorn. His chest clenched. Startled by the sudden movement in the flat, she stood up abruptly upon seeing him.
"Malfoy," she lifted an eyebrow at him quizzically. Her gaze dropped to his hand where a crumpled paper rolled out of his grasp. She stared at it, unseeing, and looked up almost apprehensively at him.
He nearly sprinted the distance between them, catching her forcefully before she crumpled to the floor. Her eyes fluttered shut, tears leaking out from the corners. Those full lips parted in harsh breaths, and he hugged her close. She lifted shaky hands to trace his face tenderly.
"Hermione," he breathed in her scent, the sweet floral fragrance that was imprinted somewhere in the chasms of his memory.
"You found it," she whispered in jubilation, clutching his muscular arms tightly as he cradled her in his hold.
"I always do," he murmured, pulling the ties of her robes loose. She hummed in the back of her throat as he traced the dark circles on her breast, cupping them and lowering his head to nuzzle them. She whimpered softly. His grey eyes fixed upon hers, closed in ecstasy, as he slipped a hand up her skirt, tracing the dampened edges of her underwear.
"Draco ... please," she moaned into his ear.
"Please - what?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion. He ripped her skirt to shreds, and pressed hot open-mouthed kisses along her neck as he entered her, hot and pulsing.
"Please don't leave me." She emitted a guttural sound as he rammed against her, pulling her impossibly closer as she clawed at him, intertwining into an inseparable coil.
"I won't," he insisted.
"And don't forget me," she pleaded, crying harder than ever as she knew very well the futility of her request. Still she begged it of him, fervently rocking against his solid body. He groaned and laid his forehead against hers.
"Never," he promised. Never, never ...
Draco Malfoy woke up on the large silk-covered bed with a dull throbbing sensation in his head that hung over him like a cold fog. He proceeded to get dressed, sip his morning tea and read the mail, grumbling to himself when he read one from a swotty ex-Gryffindor. She would be visiting to survey his estate, as an employee of Magical Law Enforcement.
As if he didn't have to see her and her two friends' glorified images plastered all over the Prophet day-after-day.
He strode into his office and saw her sitting tall, wearing pressed trousers and a silky blouse. "Granger, just the person to brighten my morning," he said sarcastically.
"Ah .. Malfoy, always the charmer," she tossed back cheekily.
"You know you love me," he retorted arrogantly.
She was silent for a long time, but he did not seem to notice. He merely flicked through the papers and signed off on what he felt were appropriate. He yawned loudly. "I feel as though this mundane paperwork goes on and on and on ..."
She shrugged and remained mute again. When he was done, she reached out to take the papers from him.
Brushing his hands briefly, she collected the files. He clenched his fists, wondering why her touch was reverberating through his nerves. Frowning to himself, he scratched his chin, and did not notice her slip a crumpled parchment in a place beyond his view.
Just as she rose and grabbed a fistful of floo powder, he called her, "Granger!"
She stilled and turned around, scowling at him. "What?"
"Was there something I was supposed to give you?" She stared at him. His brows furrowed. "I feel as though I'm forgetting something."
Her eyes looked watery, or perhaps that was just the sparkle from the bright flames, he mused. She blinked and turned back to the fireplace. "I'm sure it's nothing of much importance," she said quietly.
He barely acknowledged the answer, nor did he lift his head as she escaped into the fire. His grey gaze had shifted elsewhere.
Wedged in the pages of a wayward book, was a worn out old parchment, with drops of moisture blurring the letters. Tracing the tears that had long ago faded, he frowned at the script that was all too familiar.
"Your heart lies behind your reflection"
A/N: I don't know what it is with me and these angsty one-shots. I just can't stay away from them. Now, go on ... Review! Make my day :)