Hermione could not visit Draco, for it would raise alarm among the Slytherins, so instead she waited a few days. Harry was as happy as Larry since Gryffindor had won their match and he was now dating Ginny, so Hermione had time to be by herself, and contemplate her and Draco.

The only problem was, this allowed her to think, and think, she did. She was troubled by the idea that Draco might have performed the Cruciatus Curse on Harry had he not been prepared, much as she still abhorred the impact the Sectumsempra Curse had on Draco. She was also worried about why Draco had been crying and what he had been talking about.

However, much as she tried to prevent it, the jigsaw pieces eventually slotted into place. Much as Draco might displease his father, Lucius Malfoy wouldn't kill his son. Much as Harry had crazy theories, his idea of Draco having been assigned a mission by Lord Voldemort was starting to make some sense, and Voldemort would almost certainly kill Draco if he failed in his task. Then there was also the matter of Crabbe and Goyle keeping watch for Draco under various disguises.

They'd arranged to meet that evening, the first time since Draco had been cursed, and Hermione had asked to meet him in the Room of Requirement. When she arrived, Draco was already there and so it was what he had conjured up. It was a small room with the look of an old classroom. There were rows and rows of desks and chairs. There was no other sign of personality. Hermione had said they needed to talk, after all.

"How are you doing?" she asked tentatively, seeing him already sat at one of the desks.

She pulled a chair up next to him. He looked pale and drained.

"I'm a lot better," Draco replied. "The dittany saved me, as did Professor Snape. I wonder whether he even guessed something might be up; he was there so fast."

"He has a sixth sense, that man," Hermione mused.

"That, he does," Draco agreed.

"I had something I wanted to ask you," Hermione started slowly.

He was immediately on edge.

"Yes?"

"I know what you're up to," she said, not beating around the bush. "I think you'd better tell me everything."

He stood up suddenly, as if electrocuted.

"Draco?" 

She stood up and raised her hands to his face. When he didn't move, she took his face in her hands. 

"You're not Lucius. You're Draco, and it's not too late for you to change your ways. Trust me," she pleaded. "This is not the way. Don't become your father. Don't do this. Don't become... a Death Eater."

For a moment remorse flashed in his eyes but then it was gone, and his anger was evident.

"No! You Mudblood!" 

He pushed her away, and with all his rage, he sent her flying into a disused desk. There was a tinkling of glass, and she slid to the floor, spread-eagled. Red ink covered her hair, but thinking again, it could have been blood, matting that bushy brown hair, soaking into her scalp... 

"I can't... I don't know what to do!" He despaired. 

Hermione stared up at him with sorrow from the floor as he pointed his wand rather shakily at her heart.

"I don't want to remember," Hermione said hoarsely. "I don't want to know... If we can't have anything, Malfoy... maybe we should have nothing at all." 

She wanted him to modify her memory. Draco registered the renewed use of his surname with dread. It was over; there was nothing anyone could do, except...

Draco steadied his wand. He looked into those loving brown eyes, saw the hurt, the pain, the sadness, and knew he had to do it.

"I don't want to hear," Hermione whispered, her voice growing softer as she closed her eyes.

She didn't want to see either.

Green light streamed from his wand, and then there was a flash, and Hermione closed her eyes. A single tear streamed from beneath her eyelid. Draco had no doubt that it had worked. He brushed his lips against her forehead, not her luscious lips for once, and grief overcame him. He lifted her limp body in his arms and hurried out as her consciousness filtered away.

*

Draco took Hermione to his godfather, where he knew no questions would be asked. Professor Snape was a master Legilimens; he could just read his mind, and that he did.

"She found out," the professor stated, in his usual whispery voice. "So you Obliviated her."

Draco looked up at the professor, whose black, usually expressionless eyes were filled with understanding. 

He swallowed. 

"She trusts me. She knows me. But there was too much hurt. She didn't want to remember because she didn't want to have to stop me. Potter suspects me."

Severus ran his wand over Hermione's head, coming to a gash on the back of her head where she hit the desk. He healed it in one wave.

"You were angry."

"I couldn't turn my back on my mother so easily," Draco cried with anguish, "or even my father. He'll kill them! He'll kill me!"

"The Dark Lord will not want a follower so easily agitated," Snape said quietly. "You knew Potter knew; I told you. Dumbledore will not act on the words of a delusional young boy. You need to be subtle. You need to control your emotions! Bella may have taught you Occlumency, but not well enough! She has no need to conceal her true feelings, so she is weak. The Dark Lord can sense that she is content obeying his orders. Can you say the same?"

Draco looked at Snape, frightened. 

"So he can see us now!"

"While you have been here, this year, I have been blocking both of our minds, because it was clear to me you were not a strong or impulsive Occlumens. Come back on Monday. Tell people you have Remedial Potions."

The truth dawned on Draco. 

"Potter knows Occlumency."

"Badly," Snape answered. "Very badly."

"I can't say I have Remedial Potions! I'll look like an idiot!"

"Just do it. Six o'clock. Monday."

"What about Hermione?"

Snape softened slightly. 

"I'll treat her tonight, and tomorrow she will be as good as new. I'll keep an eye on her." 

Draco made to exit. 

"Oh, and Draco?"

"Yes, Sir?" 

Draco turned back. Snape's mouth twitched slightly into a twisted smile. 

"Well done on the modifying. Few could remove such specific memories."

Draco smiled, albeit a little sadly. 

"Thank you Sir."

He cast one glance at Hermione, looking as though she were merely asleep on his godfather's desk, and then he turned and hurried to the door.

There was no going back.

*****

A.N. Thank you for reading and please comment!