As promised, the last installation of this story! *throws a party for readers*

Also, M – double naughty times ahead! Wink wink.

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Her hair was a riot. She had smudges something purple and green on some parts of her face from various healing salves and ointments and her spine was threatening to snap any second.

Hermione had had a very trying Wednesday.

She had barely slept for the past two days since Draco left the house with his bottle of memories and left Hermione to drive herself up the wall – gradually, indubitably and inexorably.

It's only been two days, Hermione, get a grip, she reminded herself oftentimes than necessarily required within the span of only two days.

Maybe he just needs time to … mull things over. To decide what he wants to do. Or, she clenched her fists involuntarily as she made her way to the loo during her break. Or he was just mighty disgusted at what had happened and now just doesn't want to have anything to do with me.

Well, can't blame him then, Hermione sighed, noticing the now-purple circles under her eyes and the general mess that is Hermione Granger at that moment. Get over it. Move on. Live.

Decidedly-over-Malfoy-at-that-moment, Hermione took a deep breath before exiting the loo, prepared for another round of battle in St Mungo's.

"Healer Granger, thank Merlin, you're back -"

"Healer Granger, what took you so long?"

"Healer Granger, you've got an emergency at Ward No. 213 -"

"I know he said that he didn't want you to treat him because of your blood status, but he's old and sick and he really should put aside the pureblood issues for the moment, you need to save his life -"

"Healer Granger -"

"Healer Granger -"

"HEALER GRANGER!"

In the midst of treating one man that was sending her snide looks – pureblood, of course – and ignoring his wife's spiteful comments on 'the nerve of St. Mungo's, letting the likes of you treat us', she was on the verge of tears but pressed on.

Somehow, the universe was being extra cruel to her today.

Blinking back the sting in her eyes, she ignored the looks and comments from the couple.

She can't wait to go home that day, get into her bed, curl up, wither and die.

Immediately, another thought followed that – without her being able to stop it before she processed it and for it to reverberate –

Things would be better if she had Draco to come home to.

And those were the exact thoughts she had a year ago – and she was at her happiest.

A whole deluge of memories of Draco welcoming her as soon as she stepped through the Floo, glancing at her and smiled sadly while saying "I'm sorry you had a long day", wrapping his arms around her, rubbing her back comfortingly and everything was just forgotten – her stress, her sadness, her tiredness – all gone.

Well those memories are also supposed to be gone and forgotten, as well as Draco Malfoy.

Her heart ached so very painfully at that, and her throat felt tight and that bloody sting was back in her eyes and she really needed to concentrate and forget everything and godshebloodymissedhimsobad –

"Maybe I should just go back to fucking Africa," she muttered under her breath as she finished treatment on the pureblood arsehole.

"What? What was that?" he asked, his wife leaning in closer.
"I said, that's done and thank you for choosing St. Mungo's," she said with a falsely cheerful voice, her smile so plastically broad it hurt her cheeks, and her hand coming to rest over her heart, "Do take care of yourself properly, for we want nothing else but to ensure your health and happiness. Good day!"

She marched off, not waiting for a reply, ready to take on her next patient.

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Things didn't get better from there. She had Apparated home, almost breaking her neck after she tripped on whatthefuckwasthat, she stubbed her toe against her dining table while boiling water for her tea and whilst on her way out to throw the garbage, the whole plastic bag just split into half, a gigantic, smelly, horrible-looking muddle in the middle of her living room.

She patiently grabbed her wand (patiently, while swearing colourfully), and fixed the bag and dumped everything back into it. She dumped the wand onto her sofa and carried the garbage out. She had to do this because she lived in a Muggle neighbourhood, to keep up appearances with the neighbours and she didn't want the garbage man to wonder why she never had trash.

She dumped everything into the large garbage bin outside, took a calming breath and marched to her doorstep – only to find it locked.

"YOU'RE FUCKING KIDDING ME," she laughed hysterically; "YOU'RE REALLY FUCKING KIDDING ME!" as she gripped the handle and twisted it around. It did not move a bunch. She felt her back pockets for her wand, only to remember that she had dumped it onto her sofa on the way out.

"God, Merlin, please, come on, please," she cried in anguish, "I really don't need this right now, COME ON!"

She knew she should have mastered Wandless spells.

Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?

"Fucking AFRICA it is!" she shouted doggedly at her front door, noting that after she sorted this out, she was going to have a good, long cry in the shower before going to bed.

"Now what did your front door do to piss you off, Granger?" a melodic, clearly amused voice came from behind her.
"Draco," she turned around and whispered almost breathlessly.

A small smile appeared at the corner of his lips, and those grey eyes were still glinting with hilarity.

And she wanted to smile and cry at the same time.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked, pushing those annoying strands of hair that she was sure made her look like an old, frowning maid.
"I would say I was in the area, but that would be a lie," he answered, "I Apparated not too far from here, thought I'd take a walk before dropping by. I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," she said, feeling a billion times tired all of a sudden, "Oh. Well, I would invite you in but," she waved aimlessly at her front door, "I seem to have locked myself outside with my wand inside."

"Such a clever girl," Draco tsk'ed and chuckled, before walking up to her and past her – Hermione catching a whiff of that illegally saliva-inducing cologne that he wore at that moment – and muttered a spell, watching as her door flew open.
"Thank you, Draco," she said, not even bothering to mask the fact that she had called him Draco instead of Malfoy. "Come in. Tea?"
"Yes, please."

They walked into the house quietly, and to Hermione's relief, less awkwardly than the last time they had been in here together, which was almost three days ago.

Draco sat at the dining table like he owned the place, in all his familiarity and ease. As Hermione was about to scoop spoons of sugar into his cup, he opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione cut him off.

"Two spoonfuls of sugar and ungodly amount of milk," she said quietly and smiled as Draco shut his mouth immediately at that.

She sat across him and rubbed her face tiredly.

"You look like hell, Granger," Draco said nonchalantly, drinking in the sight of her and looking at her almost in a fond way.
"I know, thanks," she said, "Had the shittiest, longest day of my entire life."
"I'm sorry you had a long day," he answered softly, before taking a sip from his tea. At that, Hermione glanced at him and caught his eyes as he peered at her from the top of his cup.

"I watched them, the memories," Draco said calmly.
"Oh, okay," she answered dumbly, not knowing what to say to that.
"I can't even begin to tell you how strange it was to watch all that, watching myself but not having any recollection of it at all."

Hermione nodded, taking a sip of her tea.

"I actually felt like an actor," he said, smiling slightly and Hermione couldn't help but smile at that too.
"Yes, well, I imagine that would be very awkward, having to watch your memories like it was some sort of film."

Hermione also imagined that watching the film with a sex scene would be terribly embarrassing, especially – imperially – if you were in it. Her face turned hot at the memory.

"Yes, but it was too real. Too real to be a film."

Silence.

"It was fleeting, I am aware, and also very confusing on my part," Draco continued, "But I also am aware of the fact that it was real, purely genuine and I believed that at some point in time I truly did feel something for you."

Did? It hurt something fierce to catch the past tense in his sentence.

"So, I came here," he cleared his throat, "to thank you. For what you did for me. You saved my life, Granger."

Hermione felt that sting in her eyes again, and the tightness in her throat.

"You're most welcome, Draco," she said, giving him a watery smile.

This is it. This is the end. Goodbye forever, Draco Malfoy.

"It was a pleasure knowing you," he said cheekily, stressing on the word 'pleasure', and Hermione blushed furiously at that. "You truly are remarkable."
"Why, thank you," she laughed, trying to hold back the tears – just a little more, just a little bit longer … you can cry after he leaves – forever.

"And I truly regret, that somehow things have changed -"
"No, don't say that," Hermione argued nobly, "It is better for you to be alive, and safe, and yourself again – that's what's truly important."

Draco nodded mutely.

"True, but I feel contrite at the fact that you … you have to deal with picking up all the pieces."
"No, don't worry … it'll just go," she laughed, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal. "Like you said, it was only fleeting."
"Yes, I did."

She smiled, eyes bright.

"Well, I do not wish to push my welcome here," he said with finality, standing up, "I will make a move."
"Alright," Hermione stood up as well, walking him to the front door because he 'wanted to leave like a proper house guest and not just Disapparate directly out of there' – her last resolve at not breaking down crumbling, almost down to zero – "I will see you around, Draco."
"Yes, I truly hope we can be friends," he said, looking at her in the eyes.
"We will, once I get past the awkwardness," she laughed, waving her hand pointlessly at her attempt at a joke.

"Granger," he held out his hand for her to shake, and she immediately grasped it.
"Malfoy," she nodded, relishing in the last few moments of his warmth before it was gone – completely – forever – never to come back to her.

With that, he turned and left the house properly and she shut the door behind him.

Wait for it, wait for it … she thought as she let her guard down, waiting for the dam to break.

Nothing.

Huh. She couldn't even cry, how fucking pathetic was that.

Well maybe it would only come during the shower. She did, after all, promised herself a good cry in the shower. Just as she was about to walk to her bedroom, heart aching like neverfuckingbefore, there was another knock on the door.

God, what now – stupid fucking neighbours giving fucking cookies again? I really have no time for th –

Again, it was Draco.
Looking at her like she turned him to a ferret again and insulted his father at the same time.

"What?" she asked.

"That's the second time you let me go, Granger," he snarled, before advancing in on her.
"What? What? What are you talking about?" she squawked, clearly confused.
"I remember everything, Granger. I remembered everything after I saw your memories – like something triggered it, it set something off in me and all of a sudden I remember everything by heart, feel everything – I knew exactly what I felt and when."

Hermione gaped at him and staggered back like a pile of bricks.

"So what the fuck was all that show for?" She yelled – this was too much, too much to take in a day –
"I just wanted you to know exactly how I felt when I woke up that day, not knowing you were gone, to fucking Africa at that!"

Hermione's head throbbed – what the fuck – she felt as if she couldn't handle the whatthefucks that currently were inundating her very being at that moment.

That being said, even after remembering and feeling everything that Hermione remembered and felt, he still possessed the audacity – the presence of mind to get revenge!

"Once a Malfoy, always a fucking Malfoy," she hissed, swear words flying all over the place now and she couldn't give a damn, "Revenge, really? You just wanted -"
"It's only fair," Draco said mildly, idly examining his nails. "You have quite a prodigious brain, you know. You should note that even if a person loses his memory, it doesn't make him an entirely new person. If losing my memory made room for me to actually have feelings for you, then surely the real me could most certainly have room for that exact thing, don't you think?"

"You stupid piece of shit," she seethed, and then Draco's eyes suddenly flickered to hers and in a heartbeat, he had her pressed against the wall.

"You arsehole – you lying, deceitful, thoughtless arsehole," she hissed through her tears that suddenly came out of nowhere, "I hate you."

He leaned in, nose touching hers and his breath mingling with hers and whispered oh-so-enticingly it made Hermione experience physical pain at the longing she had for this man.

"But you love this … this lying, deceitful, thoughtless arsehole, don't you?" he said, stroking the sides of her face, liquid mercury eyes gazing into honey brown ones.

Hermione's lower lip trembled and she nodded shakily, making more tears that pooled in her eyes drop onto her cheeks.

"Yes," she whispered, "Yes, I do."

As soon as that left her lips, Draco immediately smashed his mouth onto hers and capturing her lips in the most passionate, bruising and scorching kiss – a kiss so hard and intense it made her toes curl into the carpet, as she fought for stability by clutching his biceps so hard it could have bruised him.

God, how she missed Draco – it was to the point of insanity and to have him back almost made Hermione's head explode with the sheer thought of it all.

The kiss went on and on for Merlin-knows-how-long – it was amazing, the feeling of reuniting after so long, the passion, the everything … the atmosphere was scalding, the kiss even better, even through the wetness that ran down Hermione's cheeks.

"Fuck, Hermione, I missed you," Draco whispered breathlessly against her mouth, his hands trembling.
"I missed you too," she said, almost embarking on a fresh batch of tears.
"And I love you," he said.

Her heart lurched almost painfully at that and she smiled, "I love you too."

He brought his lips towards hers and they kissed again, and again and again, until the warm glow that enveloped Hermione turned into something hotter. His hand stroked her face and the other was holding her so tightly and wandering everywhere as if he didn't know where to touch first.

It rushed through her body like white-hot lightning and she was certain it was the same for Draco, if the warm hardness pressing into her thigh was anything to go by.

"Draco, I -" she rasped, pressing back against his hardness, making him gasp.

Whatever she wanted to say was forgotten, as he immediately positioned himself just so, so perfectly that he was directly positioned in between her legs and pressing right there.

Just as his hand hooked underneath one of her knees and brought it up and the other going down down down to stroke her through her now damp knickers, and just as she was about to suggest they move – he stopped.

He stopped.

And withdrew his hands and moved a foot back, smiling at her mischievously.

What, what the fuck? She tried to send him a confused look through her thoroughly-debauched appearance. Couldn't he tell that she wanted him so bad, after so long?

"Why'd you stop?" she asked, affronted and annoyed and frustrated.
"I hardly think this is the proper way for a lovers' reunion, don't you?" he asked cheekily and airily, as if he just didn't practically hump her into the wall.
"You're joking," she said.

"Au contraire," he grinned, stroking the side of her face with his knuckles, "I think you've gone through a lot for a day … I think you should get proper rest, and have a good night's sleep."
"Wha?" Hermione opened her mouth.
"Tomorrow, after work … wear something nice, and I'll pick you up at around seven. I'll take you out on a proper date."

Before she could protest and tell him how idiotic he sounded, he gave her a passionate kiss that jellified her legs.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered against her lips, so close to her that he was practically kissing her whenever he spoke.

And then he Disapparated.

Needless to say, despite the confusion and the ruined knickers and everything – Hermione went to the shower and smiled to herself instead of crying. In fact, she was so overjoyed she kept laughing in the shower, almost choking on the sprays of water.

She went to bed feeling lighter than she had ever felt since she left Draco a year ago, and thinking that she couldn't wait to have Draco back in her bed, arms wrapped securely around her.

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Fuck you, Draco Malfoy.

That was the sentiment that reverberated throughout the entirety of their dinner date the next day.

Not that there was anything wrong with the date. It was perfect, it was lovely – it was the most amazing date with the most amazing person.

It was just that while she tried to concentrate on the romantic music and the quixotic ambience of the quiet, little restaurant, all she could think of was the feeling of Draco's thigh pressed against hers. They were seated next to each other at a corner booth in the dainty restaurant and she could not get her mind off the warmth Draco was exuding and how devilishly mouth-watering he looked that night.

He, on the other hand, was calm and composed – a kiss here, a peck on the neck there and a little bit of stroking on the side of her face and Hermione was a mess.

It was during dinner that she suddenly felt his warm, warm hand stroke her thigh. It salaciously moved down and under her skirt, tracing random patterns.

Hermione tried to tune it out and pay attention on her scrumptious dinner instead, but she found that anything against Draco Malfoy was bound to lose. She almost dropped her spoon as his hand moved dangerously close to her knickers.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" he asked, smirking.
"Peachy," Hermione answered, almost annoyed.
"Aren't you enjoying yourself?"
"I am, everything is really amazing and," she continued, his fingers growing ever bolder, feeling the skin of her legs as he ran them up and down.

She was trembling as she fought to form a complete sentence.

"And?" he pressed, his lips brushing against her ear.
"And …"

"Finish your dinner, Hermione," he felt her smile against her ear, but he didn't cease his ministrations. Hermione's legs clamped shut, effectively and unfortunately locking his hand in between them, leaving him to ghost his fingers over her already wet knickers.

"Draco," she warned.

He immediately leaned back and stabbed his fish with his fork before bringing it to his mouth, hands still moving seductively and slowly on her thigh.

It continued throughout their dinner, with almost-kisses from Draco and seductive touches until Hermione felt that her knickers would just combust right then and there.

It was when Draco ordered dessert that Hermione felt like she couldn't take it anymore.

"Can we just forget the dessert and go home?" she asked, face flaming.
"No, of course not. I ordered the best dessert here, and I want you to try it. We can go after," he smiled and pecked her on the cheek, hand still driving her bonkers.

"Fine," she snapped, throwing her napkin on the table, "Excuse me for a minute; I have to go to the ladies'."

If she was going to stay for dessert, fine by her – but she just needed to cool down first before she ended up melting everything around her including her dessert in her desire for Draco.

She checked her face in the mirror, washing her hands and taking deep, calming breaths. When she left the loo however, she nearly ran into someone, who grabbed her arms tightly, steadying her.

"Draco," she gasped, "You scared me."

Draco didn't say anything, he only pushed her back into the loo, locked it with his wand and pressed her against the door.

"What are you doing?" she asked, getting intoxicated by his scent again.
"You look beautiful tonight, Hermione," he whispered into her ear, a hand coming to tug her knickers down her dress, his fingers moving towards her center.

"Do you know how much I want you?" he asked, his fingers slipping between her legs and stroking.
Hermione groaned and tipped her head back to rest against the door.

His fingers dipped inside of her and he started pumping, making her back arch and she bit her lip in an effort to not scream.

"Oh, shit!" she cried, gripping Draco's clothed arms tightly as she felt her legs go limp.
He chuckled darkly and kissed her lightly on the mouth.

He kept on pumping her, teasing her and Hermione moaned, the world forgotten.

Her head dropped onto his chest as he continued to pick up speed and she was steadily losing her mind.
"Draco, Draco, Draco," she tried over and over again but she couldn't seem to string the words.
"What is it, love?" He whispered seductively low, "Tell me what it is you want, and I'll give it to you."

"I want to – I," she groaned, not even caring that she heard knockings against the door, people wanting to get in.

"Excuse me, is anyone in there?" a muffled voice came from outside the door.

Hermione couldn't care less, she threw caution to the wind as she groaned and moaned as Draco worked his fingers in her.

"What is it, baby?" he asked again, licking the shell of her ear.
"Draco, please, I want to – ah!" she got cut off, as he went back to stroking her with irritating slowness. It was the second time she was denied completion, and Draco was looking so smug about it.

"Excuse me, excuse me!" the same person called out again. Then another voice. "Why don't we call the manager?"

"Draco," Hermione moaned, as he picked up the pace again, "Please."
"Excuse me, can someone get the manager?" Another voice called out.

"Draco, please! Plea-ah! Please, please, please, please -"
And with a twist of his fingers, Hermione detonated, crying out Draco's name passionately as her rode out her completion.

It seemed to go on forever – she felt as if she had gone deaf and blind – everything was white and she couldn't hear anything. She sagged against the wall, catching her breath as Draco diligently fixed her knickers for her and gave her a sweet kiss.

Draco grabbed her hand firmly and unlocked the entrance to the loo, and stepped out, smiling charmingly at the flabbergasted ladies waiting outside. They all watched him leave, leading a red-faced shaky-legged Hermione back to their table.

"Why can't we leave yet?" Hermione asked, seemingly recovered from one of the sexiest moments in her entire life.
"Because," Draco grinned, lifting their entwined hands and kissing her knuckles, "We haven't had dessert yet."

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They landed on the sheets with furious kisses and wandering hands and praises. Clothes were strewn all over the place as they practically undressed each other like a child unwrapping their Christmas presents.

It was soft, slow and romantic.

Of course it was, this time it was different. This time they were making love.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and he leaned in, and they were both just breathing each others' scents in.

Grey eyes were staring back at hers – full of love, desire and she reached up to pull him into a slow, languid kiss.

He drew back and began to trace every single curve, plane and crevice of her body – as if trying to memorize it and imprint them to his memory forever.

"Draco," she whispered.
"I'm refreshing my memory," he grinned devilishly, hands still wandering, worshipping as he bent down to kiss every single part he could get his hands on.

Hermione thought of cheesy movies at that time, and imagine Draco arching a regal eyebrow and exclaiming, "I'll make you scream so hard neither you nor I will ever, ever forget." She laughed a little at that.

"What?" Draco grinned, stroking her face.
Hermione told him what she had thought of, he only looked at her playfully and muttered, "In a minute, I will."

In one slow motion, he entered her and they both groaned at the same time. Hermione was going pass out at the feeling – both emotionally and physically that was engulfing her.

"Fuck," he hissed.
Her nails were digging into his back and he was looking at her intently, so full of love and she felt like this was it, this was what she wanted always – Draco Malfoy.

She was so scared that she would never see him again and judging by the way Draco Malfoy was touching her, moving in her, he was feeling the same. She met him thrust for thrust, feeling his heart pound against her chest. He was gripping her hips so tightly now, enough to bruise and she was sure there would be scratch marks all over Draco's back tomorrow but obviously neither of them cared.

"Draco," she babbled in between eliciting moans and groans, arching her back as she felt herself near the end.
"Do it, Hermione," Draco purred, "Come for me."

And with a resounding and reverent scream of his name, she contracted around him and released, pulling him along with her to the end, Draco releasing with a hushed "Hermione" falling from his lips.

They collapsed on the bed – tangled limbs, sweat-slicked bodies and contented hearts.

"I love you," Draco said as they both exchanged soft, sweet kisses.
"I love you, too," she sighed happily, carding her fingers through his hair.

"What would have happened if you really didn't remember?" Hermione thought out loud.
Draco, who was purring because of Hermione's ministrations on his hair, answered briskly, "We were made for each other, Hermione. Either way, we would still end up like this. The only thing different is that we would just have to make new memories."

Hermione smiled at that and briefly fell asleep, in Draco Malfoy's arms.

THE END!

Aww, it has finished *sobs*. Hope you enjoyed that, and as always, read and review!

I love you guys!