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Linger	By : desespoir Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 8509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. Everything belongs to the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I own nothing and make no money from writing this story.

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A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! They make my day and keep my muse happy :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 2: Forever

Where�d you go? I miss you so. Seems like it�s been forever that you�ve been gone. Please come back home. � Fort Minor, �Where�d you go?� (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=feeuoERYOV0)

This couldn�t possibly be real.

Hermione stood in front of 12 Grimmauld Place, watching with wide eyes as the building parted to make way for Harry�s residence. Slowly but surely, it began to emerge, as it always did, from what seemed like thin air. She smiled softly to herself as she realized that even after all this time, Harry had never set any wards against her and that she was still considered to be a guest. She supposed she shouldn�t have been as daunted as she was, taking a hesitant step towards the house. The impact of her flat boots against the cement sent a shiver up her spine and she visibly shook in discomfort.

She was a witch. She had magical powers. She was the best friend of the savior of the Wizarding world and all this time, she didn�t have a clue, living an innocuous lifestyle as a waitress in a neighborhood caf�. She had dueled, battled, and been in the front line in war yet only mere hours ago, she had been serving coffee, completely oblivious to her previous life.

How the hell did this happen?

She still retained all her memories as �Viola�. Part of her was still �Viola�. She hadn�t been Hermione in two incredibly long years. It would be so easy to simply turn the other way and return to the caf�. After all, she had merely brushed Shannon off with a few threadbare lies about migraines and dizziness before she rushed out of the caf� and bought the next bus ticket to London. She had a life in Edinburgh. She could go back.

Hermione shook her head adamantly and silently berated herself. No. She was not a coward. She needed answers. What happened to her in the first place? Why were her memories taken from her? Why did no one come after her? Did they search for her? She found it highly unlikely that they did a very thorough job as she was living in Edinburgh, of all places. It was a mere hour away from Hogwarts. Even if she was living in the muggle part, it wasn�t as if she was hidden away in a remote part of a faraway island. She was still in the bloody United Kingdom, for goodness sakes! How could they let her go so easily?

Hermione blinked back tears. Now was not the time to get emotional. The more pressing matters were who took her memories from her, why, and most importantly, why were they given back to her? Whoever did this was incredibly intelligent, going so far as to fabricate a rather intricate back story for �Viola�. It was powerful magic, a perverse form of mind control. A simple Obliviate could not have done this.

Hermione�s mind swirled with questions and confusion as she looked up at the house. It was still as she remembered. She looked down the street, the brightly lit neon sign of the chip shop beamed back at her and she almost snickered as she recalled the many times she, Harry, and Ron would sneak out of the Order�s hiding place for a midnight snack.

She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. She knocked on the door, at first gently but then with more confidence. By the fifth knock, she was almost beating down the door. She took a step back in surprise, completely caught up in the repetitive act as the door flung open and she was greeted by the unfamiliar face of a house elf. Hermione frowned in confusion. Harry did still live here, correct?

�Welcome to the House of Potter,� the elf bowed, �How can Wikki be of service?�

Hermione restrained herself from bending down to the elf�s level and lifting him up. He was bowing down so low that his nose nearly touched the ground. �I�m Hermione Granger. I�m looking for Harry.�

�Who�s at the door, Wikki?� A deep baritone called from down the long hallway.

Hermione froze, her hand immediately grabbing onto the doorframe as she felt her knees shake. Harry. It was really Harry.

�A Miss Granger, Master Potter.�

�Wikki, you must be mistaken and we don�t-�

She should look up. She should look up and hug her best friend yet she could not bring herself to physically move her body. She gripped the frame harder as she steeled herself and cleared her throat, �Hi Harry.�

He was still as handsome as she remembered him to be. His hair was a bit longer than it was before, slightly shaggier and still as messy as ever. His trademark glasses were slightly askew, his green eyes stunned with shock.

�Hermione?� His voice was raspy with disbelief. He took a cautious step forwards, �How? You�re-� He wrenched her from the door frame and gathered her in a strong hug, tears stinging his eyes, �It�s really you.�

She returned the hug with equal fervor, a small laugh escaping from her lips as she tried her best not to cry, �I missed you.�

�I missed you,� he said, letting out a laugh as well. He ran a hand through his hair, uncertain of what to say next. �Do you want some tea?�

�That sounds lovely,� she smiled, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she followed him down the hallway and into the kitchen. Her curious brown eyes scanned every surface of what once used to be the dark and cavernous Noble House of Black. It seemed Harry had done some redecorating. The walls were covered with solid, dark blue wallpaper with flecks of green and orange appearing every so often. The staircase was no longer old and rickety, now a rich mahogany wood with blue carpet on each step as an accent. All the old paintings of the Black line had been removed, instead replaced with pictures of friends. Hermione smiled softly, stopping in front of a picture of her, Ron, and Harry in third-year. It was winter and she was wearing an incredibly fuzzy hat over her even fuzzier hair as she ran away from Ron and Harry who were throwing snowballs at her. They had been so young then.

�I got tired of hearing that I was half-blood scum every time I walked out of my room so I did a little redecorating.�

�It looks beautiful,� Hermione said honestly as she moved onto the next picture. It was of Harry and Ginny. Ginny�s arms were wrapped around his neck as he leaned down to give her a kiss, both laughing and waving at the camera. She was wearing a long, white dress and her red hair was styled into a chignon, little white flowers framing her face.

�Did you-?� Hermione found herself at a loss for words.

�About three months ago,� Harry said quietly. He lifted his hand with a smile, the gold band glimmering in the light.

He was married. Her best friend had gotten married and she didn�t even attend the ceremony. It wasn�t until that moment that the severity of the situation dawned upon her. Someone had stolen two years of her life from her. Every laugh, hug, kiss, touch, caress � she would never experience any of it. The chance had been taken away from her. What else had she missed?

�Congratulations.� It was the only thing she could say and she moved awkwardly to him, giving him another hug as she spoke genuinely, �I�m sorry I missed it.� She felt him stiffen at her words and without responding, he moved into the kitchen, busying himself with making tea. She frowned but held back the hurt and anger simmering in the pit of her stomach. They had a lot to talk about before she would jump to any conclusions.

�So, where have you been?� His question came out sharper than he intended. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, trying his best to sort out the emotions within him. He refused to turn around, not seeing her flinch at his tone or the pained expression upon her face.

She drummed her fingers against the wooden table as she sought to formulate an answer. There was so much that she needed to tell him and make him understand and so much that she wanted answered. They had to start somewhere, she supposed.

�Edinburgh.�

-*-

Draco�s eyes snapped open as he felt the first ray of sunlight stream across the room through the dark, heavy drapery. He pushed the hair out of his face as he sat up in bed, his limbs aching in protest from the movement. He let out a mild groan as he felt the bed shift, not from his own weight. Fuck.

He had slept with Pansy Parkinson. Fuck.

Of all the idiotic things he had ever done, this one most definitely topped the list. He got out bed gingerly, avoiding her wanting body and arms. He needed a shower.

The water was scalding hot, the steam rising and permeating throughout the bathroom as he stepped in through the glass door. It felt like heaven against his skin as it beat down upon him. What the hell had he been thinking? He knew it shouldn�t feel like a betrayal but he couldn�t suppress the feelings of guilt building up within him. It almost felt like he was cheating on her. It was a ridiculous notion, however. They were no longer together. In order to be in a relationship with someone, said person had to be present and for the past two years, he had been waiting, praying, hoping that one of these days, she would reappear. Where the hell was she? Was she happy? Was she safe? Was she dead?

He shook his head. No, she couldn�t be dead. He could still feel her. He could still feel her skin against his fingertips, could still see the blush forming on her cheeks as his hand glided across her face. He could still feel her very essence. Hermione Granger consumed and intoxicated his every sense. She was still alive. Somewhere.

Pansy�s words echoed in his mind. She�s gone, Draco. She left.

She didn�t leave. She wouldn�t have left him. He loved her too much for her to do that. She loved him too much for her to do that. Right? For the first time in his life, he began to question himself and his stubborn certainty. She would never leave him. She would never leave Potter and Weasley �not so suddenly and definitely not without another word. Something must�ve happened, someone must�ve forced her. He swallowed the lump that grew in his throat. He had searched for her himself, right alongside Potter, for the first year and some months into the next. He had refused to give up, knowing that she was somewhere out there�alone, cold, and most likely lost. He was the last person to give up. Even when the ministry filed away her case as an �unexplained disappearance�, pushing her case to the background, declaring there were other more pertinent and important cases to focus on, he never gave up. He continued searching.

It was only a few months ago he finally gave up. He had been in his study, rifling through old files when a picture of he and Hermione fell into his lap. It had been taken in their fifth-year, only a few months after they began their relationship. It had remained a secret to most of the school and only a select few, including the bumbling duo that she called her best friends, knew of their affection for one another. They were still pretending to hate each other yet even with his best acting, he couldn�t hide the adoration he had for her behind his grey eyes. She simply stared up at him, a warm expression of love gracing her features, before she turned away. It was a stolen moment, caught on camera by Ginny Weasley.

He had stared at the picture for what seemed like hours before he put it back where he found it, pushing the box into the corner of the study, and her memory into the recesses of his mind. She would want for him to move on. That was the moment he decided to stop his search and let Hermione Granger�s memory rest in peace.

The water had run cold. Draco leaned his forehead against the wall, relishing the feel of the cool surface before he turned the shower off and pushed himself back. Time to face another day.

He performed a quick drying spell over his body and hair before he entered his closet, not even sparing a glance at Pansy�s still-sleeping body on his bed. He merely dressed, hoping she would see herself out at some point. He didn�t want to have to see her again for, what he hoped, would be a very long time. When he was fully dressed, he walked briskly out the room, closing his door with a soft click.

Pansy sat up in the bed when she finally heard the door close, signaling Draco�s exit. She held the sheets close to her chest, holding back her sobs. She closed her eyes, lost in memories of the night before.

Forgive me, Draco.

-*-

�Edinburgh?� Harry asked, seemingly completely bewildered by this response. �You were that close all along?� He set a cup of tea in front of Hermione and one in front of himself as he pulled up a chair.

Hermione mumbled her thanks before she nursed it, wrapping her hands around the cup, delighting in the way it warmed her body. �I didn�t exactly choose to wind up there.�

Harry raised an eyebrow before leaning in closer. He cleared his throat, �What exactly happened two years ago, Hermione? Why did you leave?�

�I didn�t leave!� She said forcefully, surprisingly him with her sudden cry, �Someone performed some sort of spell or curse or something on me, Harry. I completely forgot who I was. I had absolutely no memory of you or Ron or anyone else in my life. Someone took my memories.�

�Someone obliviated you?� His green eyes were wide with concern.

�No,� she shook her head, �It couldn�t have been that. I thought I was Viola Reine. For two years, I lived under the guise of a falsehood. Whoever did this performed powerful magic. I still have all her memories in addition to my own. They weaved too complicated a back story for it to be a simple Obliviate. I can tell you the names of my supposed parents and where I grew up.� Hermione gripped the cup fiercely, �It�s like I have two completely different lives.�

�Did you ever get headaches or migraines?�

�Yes, but only when I tried to remember a detail that I guess hadn�t been written out for me,� she replied bitterly. �I never thought anything of it.�

There was silence for a few moments as Harry processed everything she had just said. Her voice was shaking when she asked, �Did you ever look for me?�

�Of course,� he replied immediately, �We looked everywhere for you, Hermione,� Harry took her hand in his, �I didn�t want to stop looking but the Ministry put your case on hold after a year. We had nothing. No leads, no possibilities, and we looked everywhere for you.� He scoffed at himself, �I can�t believe you�ve been in Edinburgh this entire time. It makes the entire Auror department seem like a mockery.�

�Don�t say that, Harry.�

�I�ve let you down, Hermione. I never should�ve stopped looking,� he turned away and let out a sigh of guilt and regret, �After a year, we all thought you didn�t want to be found and that you had left.�

Hermione felt a stabbing pain at his words, �I would never have left willingly. This is my home, Harry. The Wizarding world is my home. London is my home. I would never leave especially not without a word.�

They both looked up at the clock as it signaled the time.

�It�s 6:00. Ginny will be home soon.�

Hermione smiled, �I�ve missed her.�

Only seconds later, they both heard a pop and the familiar voice of a tiny redhead float down the hallway. �Harry, do you mind if we just order in tonight? I do not feel like-� She stopped at the doorway, her voice trailing off as her eyes began tearing up at the sight in front of her. �Hermione?� she gasped.

�Hi, Gin,� Hermione said shyly, standing up slowly. In the next instant, she saw a flash of red before she felt the impact of Ginny�s petite body against her own, �I missed you.�

�You�re really back,� Ginny said, regaining her voice, �You�re here. Where have you been? What happened to you?� She turned to Harry, �Did you owl Ron and-� she paused, nodding her head towards Hermione.

�Oh yes!� Harry moved towards a desk in corner, �Right, of course.�

Ginny turned back towards Hermione with a bright smile, �Tell me everything.�

-*-

Hermione had just finished recounting her story when she heard another pop. She smiled, tears returning once again to her eyes, �Hi Ron.�

�Hermione?� His face was incredulous. He merely stared at her for a few moments, shifting his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably.

�Well, what are you just standing there for, you big buffoon?� Ginny chastised, �Give her a hug.�

Ron approached her awkwardly, giving her a quick hug and pat on the back before he released her and returned to the corner where he first appeared. Hermione leaned against the table, her face mixed with confusion and hurt. �I guess I should explain where I�ve been,� she started quietly.

�Explain what?� He asked, his voice attempting nonchalance. �You left without an explanation and were gone for two bloody years. Why start now?�

�Ron!� Ginny interrupted, outraged.

�No,� Hermione stopped her, �I know what you must think of me,� she said, taking a step forward, �Believe me. I never meant to hurt anyone.�

�Yeah, well you did. You hurt a whole lot of people,� he said, his voice rising, �You can�t just come back here and expect everyone to be waiting with open arms. You left us!�

�I didn�t choose to leave, Ronald,� her voice shaking with anger and pain, �Someone forced me to. Someone stole my memories and for two years, I never knew this life existed. I can�t expect you to understand how it would possibly feel for someone to invade your privacy as intimately as that. Do you think I wanted to leave my family and friends and everything that I knew? I would never leave without a word. How could you even think I would do something like that to hurt you all?�

They all look down in guilt, each one of them had, at one point, believed that she had left on her own accord.

�Ron,� Ginny snapped, �If you can�t stop acting like a cur then go outside and come back when you can behave properly.�

Ron looked around the room, seeing the disappointment in Ginny and Harry�s eyes and the hurt in Hermione�s. The door slammed behind him as he exited.

�Let him be,� Ginny said, patting Hermione on the shoulder, �He�s just being a child.�

�You believe me, right?� She asked, �You know I�m telling the truth.�

�Of course,� Ginny responded, giving her a tight hug, �I�m just happy to have you back.�

-*-

Draco massaged his temples as he sat back against the leather chair in his study. His meeting with the board of governors had gone relatively well today. His movement for more intra-house unity had passed and steps were already beginning to be taken by both Hogwarts staff and students. He smiled at himself, how proud his father would�ve been to know that his only son was following in his footsteps in becoming a governor yet not towards any of the means that he had pushed for himself. He laughed bitterly.

Both his parents had been lost to the war. His father was killed in battle, even to the last, declaring his loyalty to Voldemort and the belief of blood purity. His mother had survived the actual battle but with heavy wounds, having been Crucio�d by Fenrir Greyback and then her beauty destroyed by Lord Voldemort himself when he learned of Draco�s true allegiances and in accordance, Narcissa herself as she stood in front of Draco, hiding his body behind hers, refusing to let the maniac harm or touch her precious child. Voldemort had cursed her with a burning spell that left the entire left side of her face with third-degree burns. Harry Potter had stepped in at that point, dueling Voldemort until he said the killing curse to which Harry threw up a powerful and ancient protection spell, similar to the one his mother had used so many years ago. Voldemort�s Avada bounced back, hitting him directly in the chest, killing the last remnant of his soul, ridding the world of his dark presence once and for all.

Draco had cradled his mother�s body to his as he watched the fight between the two, refusing to let go and refusing to believe that the fates were evil enough to curse him with the agony of watching his own mother die in his arms. They did, however, and only moments after Voldemort collapsed to the ground, Narcissa Malfoy took her last breath.

Draco slowly sipped the aged whisky. He swirled his glass a few times, watching as the alcohol grazed the side before settling at the bottom. He glanced at the faded tattoo on his left arm. It would always be there, serving as a hideous reminder of his less-than-savory past. It would always come back to blood, purity, and power. Even after the war, though the prime evil had been defeated, people�s mentalities still remained the same and to many pureblood families, he was seen as a traitor who had betrayed his own father and lineage for a girl, a mudblood at that.

It would never change. No matter how many wars were fought and how many lives were lost and taken, it would always remain the same. What had been the purpose of it all? He wasn�t so na�ve as to believe that everything would magically mend itself and everyone would become friends after the war but he had believed that eventually and with time, perceptions and old grudges and prejudices would fade. They didn�t.

There was a tapping against the window. He pulled himself out of his thoughts as he set down his drink, moving to let the owl in. After rewarding it with a treat, he opened the letter.

Come to 12 Grimmauld Place as soon as you can. You need to see this. � Harry

He frowned. Well, that was helpful. He dropped the letter on his desk as he made his way to the floo.

It was dark in the Potters� living room and he could hear voices coming from the kitchen as he made his way down the hall. For a moment, he thought he heard her laugh tinkle through the air but he shook himself out of his hallucinations. He needed to stop drinking.

�Honestly, Potter, could you be more cryptic?� Draco drawled as he entered the kitchen, never taking in the girl in the corner.

�Umm, I really didn�t-�

�So, what is the purpose for the hurry?�

�There,� Ginny whispered as she nodded towards Hermione�s direction.

The entire world seemed to come crashing back to him as he gazed intently at her. It was her. She had come back. Without another word, he crossed the room, pulling Hermione into his arms, choking back sobs of relief and happiness as he smelled her, touched her, and placed a gentle kiss against her hair. He refused to let her go, keeping his hands wrapped around her waist as she leaned back to look at him.

Her beautiful brown eyes were still sparkling with laughter, tinted with confusion, �I�m sorry but have we met before?�

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