It Was All Just A Mask [A Dramione Story]

Epilogue-Hermione-

- I remembered the addictive ice cold lips of someone, but my memory had no recollection of whose they were. -

_________________________________________________________

I woke up on a balcony with a fuzzy memory of what happened the night before. I remembered the feeling of utter despair and loss, but also the flame of passion. I remembered the addictive ice cold lips of someone, but my memory had no recollection of whose they were.

I had a blanket on top of me, signifying that I had meant to fall asleep on this balcony, but where was this balcony? I scoured my mind for any memory of why I was here, but the longer I was awake, the fuzzier everything got. I held on dearly to the wintry kiss that fueled me with the sun of summer as I tried to identify who it was I was kissing. Surely it couldn't have been a dream, could it? My imagination was vast, but I couldn't imagine anything that surreal.

Platinum blond hair flashed into my memories. This confused me, I didn't know anyone with that color hair except, Draco Malfoy. A sour taste formed on my tongue. Why is his hair in my memory? Draco Malfoy has always been cruel to me. Even when we would sneak out to spend time together, he always ended up being a vile git. I couldn't have been dreaming about Draco Malfoy.

I got up off the ground, carrying the blanket with me. I didn't recognize it, but I assumed it belonged to me or someone I knew. The doors I exited disappeared when I closed them and I recognized where I was. I had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement, alone. Well as far as I could remember, I had been alone.

There were things in my memory that didn't make sense. If I remembered correctly I went to Slughorn's Christmas party with Ron, but he was with Lavender Brown during that time. I kissed Ron in the library, but the lips I remember smooching were thin and icy cold, not plump like Ron's were. The hair was greasy and wiry that I ran my hands through, not mangy and soft like Ron's. The pale white chest I remember lying on, tracing scars, was not the same peachy warmth that Ron's skin was.

I took a breath, but I couldn't let it go. Could it be possible? Could I have kissed Draco Malfoy? No, if I had, I would remember, right? The rock in the pit of my stomach did a somersault; I couldn't remember how I had ended up in the Room of Requirement, what's to say that I just didn't recall kissing Draco? A uncomfortable shiver ran down my spine. I hated him, but at the same time I didn't.

It was still nighttime when I arrived in the Gryffindor common room. There were books and parchment left out from the night before. I did remember the night before. I left to go meet someone somewhere. When I had left I was excited, but I was also anxious. Why? I protected myself from the chilly breeze by wrapping up in the blanket, and I headed up to the sixth year girls' dormitories. Everyone was fast asleep so I crept past them and into my soft bed. Shortly after that, the grogginess took over. I yawned and drifted into a sleep, dreaming of things that I couldn't remember:

White and red flower petals floating down to the stairs. 
The smell of brand new leather. 
The warmth of love under a starlit sky. 
Books and constellations. 
Two chains tinkling off the end of book spines.
Salty tears running into my mouth.
Pale gray eyes, telling me that they cared.
Sticky bandage adhesive on my forefinger.
The ink of a dark tattoo.
Wiry blond hair slipping through my fingers.
The taste of tart apples.

I woke with a start and one person's face flashed through my mind. Draco. It was true, I had kissed Draco Malfoy, and now that I remembered it, I knew I enjoyed it. What concerned me is that I couldn't remember a thing. The memories of him were laced with memories of Ron, and I couldn't tell which one was real, and which wasn't.

I slammed my head back on my pillow in frustration. How in Merlin was I supposed to decipher this mystery. I didn't know, but I guess I should start at the sources. Yes. I made a plan with myself. Tomorrow morning, I would talk to both Ron and Draco and ask them if they loved me.

___________________________________________________________

It was a good plan, but it never came into effect as I quickly forgot about it when Harry's desperate screams shook the entire Gryffindor house awake, "He killed him! He killed Professor Dumbledore!"