Bathwater

The Link That Threw It All Away

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.