Hermione couldn't possibly sleep. Not only was she reminded of so many things in one night, especially things she'd like to forget, but she was also carrying a heavy burden. Malfoy was the last person she expected to see at the Leaky Cauldron. If she knew he was going to be there, she would have told Ron she was done with her shopping. Christmas didn't even sound exciting anymore, and as she rolled over onto her side — the shopping bags right next to her bed — she couldn't help but think about everything. The war. Her parents. Fred. Voldemort. Snape. Lupin. They were always in her thoughts, always there, reminding her of the horrific things she and her friends had lived through. Why did we survive? She wondered to herself as her thoughts clouded over with happy memories she shared with the people she lost. "Why did I survive? I didn't have a twin that would miss me," she muttered aloud before a tear rolled down her nose at the memory of Fred. The memory that still hurt like a burning hell.

Rolling over onto her stomach, she shoved her face into her pillow as she began to sob. She hoped that someday she could forget about the past and focus on the future. After all, what was the use of having come so far if one single face could make it all crumble again? Perhaps it was the fact that as she watched Malfoy reading the Daily Prophet, there was a sadness and emptiness in his eyes that she could relate to. Perhaps, she thought as she continued to cry, we're not as different as we once thought.

Eventually, Hermione fell asleep.

|||

"Obliviate," she whispered as she pointed her wand at her parents — the same parents she wanted so badly to save from being caught up in the war. As she whispered the spell, she watched her face disappear from the portraits lying around the house. Her disappearance was an indication that she removed their knowledge of her successfully. 

Hermione woke up suddenly in a blanket of sweat as she thought about the dream she just experienced. It wasn't unusual for her to dream about using obliviate on her parents, and she had to remind herself of this in order to calm down. Her breath was ragged, and her skin was sticky. However, if she continued to tell herself that she was okay, there would be a time where she'd eventually believe it, right?

Pushing away the duvet, she placed her feet onto the cool floor, before burying her face in her hands. Memories and nightmares and memories. That was all that flooded her mind, and she couldn't stop the tears from falling down her face as she sat on the edge of her bed. Barely ten minutes had gone by since she woke up, and she was already crying. She seemed to cry a lot, especially after she gave up the Firewhisky since it no longer numbed her pain. But crying didn't matter, as long as she pulled a brave face in front of her best friends. Everything was okay then.

Wiping away the freshly fallen tears, she walked into the bathroom before stripping out of her clothes. If there was one thing that could make her feel slightly better, it was a hot shower.

However, five minutes later as she lathered her hair with shampoo, she suddenly heard a knock on the door. She assumed whoever was there would eventually leave, but the knocking only increased and got louder each time. "I'm coming, for Merlin's sake!" She exclaimed while rinsing her body free of soap and shutting off the water. The shower wasn't anywhere near how long she would have liked, but it would have to do for now. After all, you can only hide among the mist for so long before you have to walk into the waterfall.

She wrapped a towel around her body — her brown hair dripping water onto the floor — as she attempted to dry herself. Whoever was at the door continued to knock loudly, and it began to piss her off. So, instead of using magic, she merely took her time to dry off and got dressed. By the time she was ready to answer the door, it had been over twenty minutes since the person first knocked.

Looking through her peephole, she saw the last person she expected to see — Narcissa Malfoy. Slowly unlocking the door, she opened it and stepped aside. "Come in," she muttered. "I'm sorry I took so long. I was showering," she apologized.

"No, that's quite all right," Narcissa responded although Hermione could tell the woman was rather annoyed. "I was wondering, Hermione, if you could do something for me?"

"For you?" Hermione repeated. She wondered if she heard Narcissa correctly.

"Yes, for me," Narcissa sighed as if it took all of her strength to be in the presence of Hermione Granger.

"Would you like some tea?" Hermione offered, knowing that Narcissa looked drained and in dire need of refreshments.

"That would be wonderful." Narcissa attempted to smile before she began to tell Hermione what she came for. "You don't owe me anything, Miss Granger. You don't owe my family anything. I know that the war has taken pieces of you that you will never get back, and it has destroyed so much. I know that there are scars that will never heal, memories that will never be erased, and for that, I'm sorry. It's been three years, and I still remember it as if it were yesterday. If I remember it so clearly, I know you must, too." Narcissa paused, and she noticed Hermione was no longer fixing tea, but instead trying to keep herself composed. It was then that Narcissa realized blood purity didn't really matter. It was then she realized how human Hermione was. The trembling girl before her may have been a muggle-born, but she was just a girl. She was just a girl in this cruel and dark world, and she deserved more than what she was offered and what she was going to be offered. And she especially deserved more than what she got.

"However, there are people that are genuinely trying to fix themselves," Narcissa continued, causing Hermione to snap out of it and ask Narcissa if she wanted milk and sugar. "Yes, please," she replied, and Hermione finished preparing the tea before handing the cup and saucer to Narcissa. "Thank you," she whispered, before taking a sip and continuing. "There are people out there that are doing a wonderful job of forgetting and changing for the better. I can see that even you are trying to get past this. There's a look in your eyes that tells me it still hangs heavy on you. How do I know this? Draco has the same exact look." Upon hearing his name, Hermione couldn't help but part her lips in surprise. The thought of Draco hurting inside did something to her. He was vile and cruel and a horrible human being, but that was the problem — he was a human. "He has this pain inside of him, and it's turned him darker than ever. I thought after the war he'd stop this revenge nonsense and realize that we're all humans and we all should be thankful to even be here. However, he hasn't forgiven. He's grown cold and distant. I always knew he was one to hide his emotions, but I never knew to this extent. Hermione — " she stopped mid-sentence before sighing.

"Yes?" Hermione spoke up encouraging Narcissa to continue.

"Could you — could you help him? I know I am asking you to do a lot, Hermione, really I am, but it was always you. He was always going on and on about you, and it may not have always been the right and nice things to say, but you were constantly on his mind. He may have disliked you, but you had a pull on him. A pull so large, that he spent his time telling us how much he couldn't stand you. We actually thought he had fancied you," she let out a small laugh, before composing herself and realizing there was nothing funny about this situation. "I have no right to ask you to do this, but I feel like he would listen to you. It's been three years, and every day he backs into his shell even further. If you don't want to do this, I won't hold it against you," Narcissa promised as unshed tears sparkled in her eyes. "But I'd do anything for him. I love him so much."

Hermione found herself trying not to cry at the thought of how much Narcissa loved Draco. Is that how much my parents loved me? They'd love me enough to do anything for me, and I just stole their memories. I took myself away from them. Blinking back the tears, Hermione stood there in thought as the blonde-haired woman waited for a response and hoped Hermione would say yes.

"I saw him last night," Hermione spoke up after a moment of silence. She cleared her throat before continuing. "You're right, he's not healed. I — I don't know if I could help. He hates me, what if I just make him angrier and push him farther into his shell? It was hard enough for me to stay under the same roof as him since he's such a large reminder of what happened. Of everything and — " She stopped before she burst into tears. She had to take a few moments to breathe and compose herself. "Some things can't be fixed," she replied after a moment of thinking about herself.

"They can't be fixed if you leave the pieces scattered and don't have the right person to put them together," Narcissa whispered. "He may have hated you in school, but you were children. You're adults now, and maybe it's different. There's always a light in someone's darkness, Hermione, and I'd hate to see my son submerged in the darkness with no return only to realize I could have done something to stop him. I just want my son back." Narcissa was practically begging, and despite the excuse of saying Hermione was always on Draco's mind, Hermione still couldn't quite understand why Narcissa was asking her of all people.

And since Hermione wished to heal everyone as much as she wished she could heal herself, she told Narcissa yes. For witches and wizards needed to stick together, despite past mistakes. A fellow wizard needed her help, and it just wouldn't seem right to refuse it. No matter if the wizard was Malfoy, and no matter if she did not want to do this. Sometimes the right thing to do was also the hardest thing to do.

That was what Hermione told herself as she put on a fake smile for Draco's mother until Narcissa eventually left, and Hermione was finally alone with her thoughts, tea, and tears.

***
I didn't update Thursday and I'm sorry I wasn't home, so I'm hoping to do a double update today :)

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