The air in his lungs became thick. The weight of the world crushed all around the Minister of Magic's office, forcing Draco onto his knees. He allowed himself to fall apart in front of others, the ghost of his previous scream still burning in his throat, in his chest, in his eyes.

This was it. This was his doom. The end of absolutely everything.

He watched Hermione with no strength left at all. There was nothing left anymore, not even the shadow of his shattered heart — the one organ in his body he had never known how to use until she came along. She who owned the brightest, warmest brown eyes — such an ordinary color, but hers sparkled with more light and flare than anything else in the world. Hermione Granger, his Gryffindor, his savior...

Now she didn't remember him.

"Draco?" Just as Malfoy was ready to dissolve into shameful, broken tears, he heard the faint ring of a voice that never failed to send shivers up his spine.

He hung his head to his aching chest, closing his eyes. He was tired of the voices, tired of the memories replaying in his mind time after time. He wanted them gone — he needed them gone. If Hermione had rid herself of all their times together, he wanted to, too. He needed to. How was it fair that she was free from all of it, but he still had to suffer by seeing her, hearing her, remembering her. It would only be for a few more moments, Draco knew, but he could not even handle those. He wanted the Ministry to have mercy on him and wipe her out of all their heads so it wouldn't hurt as it did.

Smack.

"Draco!"

With the stinging of his right cheek, Draco looked up from his memory. He felt the contact of warm skin, the burn of her heavy hand against his skin. His eyebrows shot up in outrage.

"There was a flaw in the plan, Malfoy," said Harry from his place beside the Minister, a hint of smugness glittered in his emerald eyes (he had missed the sight of his once-enemy being smacked).

"A flaw?" asked Kingsley in his low baritone.

The Obliviator cleared his throat to explain that his skills had not be defected. "Well, Minister, the potion was brewed and ready for Miss Granger to take — which, in fact, she did take. Drank it completely down to the final drop. She was quite eager to remove her memories, but...."

"But?" echoed the question around the Minister's office.

Harry coughed, narrowing his eyes at the Obliviator. The man averted his eyes.

"We should leave it as is. There is nothing left to say if it didn't work," whispered Hermione as she knelt slowly in front of Draco, resting a hand on the cheek she had slapped. "We should go."

He blinked at her, still confused, conflicted, pained, angry — and all other emotions that were spinning inside of him as he looked into Hermione's teary eyes. If asked later, Draco does not know how he found the energy to get up off the floor, bringing Hermione with him.

"I want the truth," he said low and clear, "and you will give it to me."

She grimaced at the fury burning his silver eyes into metal. It reminded her of the Draco from their childhood, malicious, short-tempered — it was her fault he was like this. Now she had to fix it.

Draco snatched his wand from Harry's fingers when the latter handed it to him. Nothing else was said as he and Hermione disapparated, leaving the others behind without answers as to why Hermione Granger had not been stripped of her memories.

"Mister Potter, do you think it's wise to let Mister Malfoy take off with your best friend in the state he was in?" inquired the Obliviator as he turned from the spot the couple had disappeared from.

"He won't hurt her," Harry said with an absolute certainty.

"What exactly happened with the potion, Harry?" asked Kingsley again as he sat on his chair. "It cannot fail. Since the passing of the Marriage Law, we have had twenty cases nation wide for the removing of memories. They were all successful. What was the defect in Hermione's case?"

"Well, Minister, if you recall, all those cases ended one way or the other," interjected the Obliviator. "Either the person asking for the removal recalls how extraordinary their magic is and refuses to take the potion, or they end up accepting their corresponding partner."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So no one's actually done it?"

"No one has made it to the second phase," said the Obliviator.

"The purpose of the first phase is to make the drinker remember every single memory that has defined their life as a witch or a wizard," continued Kingsley. "Like most lessons in our lives, the potion helps you see that no matter the circumstances giving up is not the answer. You can't run away from destiny. You know that very well, Harry. And not to mention that no one really wants to forget."

"What exactly happened, then?" asked an Auror from the background, still curious and confused as Harry dropped himself on the chair across from the Minister with a grin on his face.

"The effect of the first phase did not affect Miss Granger because she had resigned on her life as a witch," explained Kingsley. "Reliving those memories did not cause her more pain than she already felt, but when the final phase washed over her system the potion died. Its full effects were useless because she is defective."

"Defective?" repeated the Auror.

Harry laughed. "The potion can't cause a change if there is an unbreakable link to the life being left behind."

X

It was Hermione's turn to watch the figure before her pace back and forth. She could see the war within himself as he muttered curse word after curse word. It was starting to annoy her, but he deserved these minutes to untangle whatever it was that was haywire inside of him. Still, it was time for the truth.

"Can you sit down, please?" she asked. "You're making me dizzy by all your pacing."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Draco hissed, stopping for a second to glare at her.

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. "Please," she pressed through clenched teeth.

Silence took over the open space between them for a long pause. There was a natural inclination inside of Draco that made him see red, that fed the venom in his blood that was always wanting to turn him back into the monster he was before he fell for the saint of all humankind. He had promised to learn to cope with his flaming emotions, but it could not be contained. He still felt the pain of losing her in his chest. How was he ever going to be the same after that horror?

"You like everything your bloody way," he roared. "Do you really think that with a snap of your fingers I'm going to do anything you want?"

"Please sit," she said once more.

It really was the way the white light of the moon hit her eyes that made Draco stomp to her like the snake was hunting the lion. He didn't give her the satisfaction of sitting beside her, however.

"How could you do this to me?" he continued with his same loud, furious tone. "How could you even think that leaving me was the right choice? You're supposed to be the Brightest Witch of the Age, for Salazar's sake!"

"You drove me to it!" Hermione shrieked in defense for herself. He was close enough for her to grip the knee material of his trousers, pulling it until he was on his knelt before her. Their eyes locked, brown and grey, and the universe glowed between them. For that moment of time she wasn't angry nor betrayed. She could feel his heart bang against her own chest, she could smell the minty scent of his skin.

Hermione wanted to spend the rest of her life staring at Draco, but there were things that needed to be said. "None of this would've happened if you were honest with me."

"Don't blame me," he warned. "None of this would've happened if you didn't eavesdrop on other people's conversation — or if you would've let me explain before you stormed off with your stupid last resort."

"Oh, so now I'm responsible for your lying?" She dug a finger into his chest. "At least, love of mine, I told you to your face that I hated you and would spend the rest of my life wishing I was dead if I had to spend it with you. I was honest about knowing we would never work."

He heard what she was saying, but all his mind processed was 'love of mine'.

Of course, Hermione could read his mind. She crossed her arms indignantly. "Don't look at me that way, Malfoy," she warned. "Not when I'm trying to make you see where you went wrong, you idiot."

"I know where I went wrong," he said with an eye roll. His voice had lowered several notches in volume. "I shouldn't have feigned tolerating you in the beginning to get you to trust me. But, Granger, I swear I wanted to try. Granted, I did have my twisted plans in the back of my head, but everything changed the night you spent at Malfoy Manor. I changed that night."

Hermione felt a knot grow at the base of her throat. "Did you mean what you said at the Ministry?"

"Me loving you?"

She nodded, unable to speak when his silver eyes lit up her soul the way only he knew how to do. Her entire being came to life with just one look by him. He owned her — really, he did. She was afraid just how much, but she, too, knew life without him couldn't simply exist.

Draco reached his hand to cup the side of her face, analyzing her every feature. He had been right; she was more radiant in the moonlight.

"I love you," he said.

A tear slipped past Hermione. "I love you, too."

Draco's face melted into a smile when he finally heard her say what he had been dying to hear from her lips. "I waited too long to tell you this, Granger. My truth. A truth that belongs to you. And I almost lost you because I was...am a coward. I'll never forgive myself for that."

"I couldn't have gone through with it, Draco," she said to him as he pulled her into his arms, bringing her to lay on his chest with his back against the grass. "Believe me, I did try."

"Can't live without me, can you?"

"That's not—"

Hermione was cut off by the distance Draco closed, capturing her lips with his. Oh, how he had missed the touch, the feel, the rush of heavy blood running through his veins singing her name. He had missed the sensation of the bliss that settled in his chest when he held her, when he felt her soft skin, and her perfect mouth kissing his. Everything that was sacred, everything that mattered and was perfect came from loving her. He loved her so bloody much he did not know how he was still alive after those weeks of not having her.

A little too soon for either of their liking, Hermione pulled away. Her breath was ragged, passion in her eyes, but there was something she had to say. It was now or never.

"Fine," Draco grunted. "Why didn't the potion work? You didn't take it?"

"Of course I did," she rebuffed. "I knew it was going to be the hardest thing I would ever do, but, Draco, my heart was broken. I couldn't...I couldn't even breathe without it hurting. The only way that would go away was if I took that potion. Yet, when I did...."

Draco sat up to look her in the eye when she paused. There was fear in her brown eyes. "What is it, Hermione?"

"Despite my willingness, something so small, so fragile impacted everything. A link," she explained further when he appeared confused. "Something that would have thrown my world off balance, that would forbid my life from being what it should have been after taking that potion."

"Spit it out, then," he huffed.

Hermione laughed lightly, tears once again in her eyes. "I couldn't erase my memories to live a life as a muggle because there is something that would contradict what I wanted to forget. A magical essence develops inside of me right this moment, Draco."

Draco's heart crashed down to his chest, paralyzed, when her hand moved to her stomach, resting over it gently.

"The potion could not erase the baby growing inside of me." Their eyes met once again. This time, their connection intensified into forever.

He really didn't see that coming, though.