Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended.

Au/N: Hey all you lovely people! I have to say, it seems like I just put up the first chapter of this story yesterday. But I'm not gonna bore you with the mushy memories! What I really wanna say is, thanks for all your reviews; they've supported me and given me ideas and made my day! This will be my last chapter, and I'm not planning a sequel. Some people wanted the last chapter to be the end, but I don't like to end my stories on a sad note. However, I have no problem if those people would like to skip this chapter at all. That's your choice, and I have to say, I'm just happy you read at all.

Once again, thank you, and don't forget to review!

Chapter Twelve. Do You Remember?

Hermione Granger

"Hermione?"

I kept my eyes squeezed shut, trying to ignore the painfully loud voice.

"Wake up, Hermione!" said another, louder voice. I groaned and blinked as a bright light invaded my eyes. I brought a hand up to shield myself from the warm, comfortable light shining on me. I peeped through one eye to see two silhouettes standing over me, and I thought I saw halos above their blurry shapes.

"She's coming out of it!" said the first voice again, excited.

"I told you she'd be okay, Ron. No sense in freaking out, I said, but nooo. You can't just take my word for it, can y--"

"Would you two just shut up?" I said, my voice sounding foreign and scratchy.

"Yep. She's good. Same old Hermione!" said the voice I finally recognized as Ron. I imagined Harry rolling his eyes as I heard him sigh.

"Let's help her up, then."

I felt two pairs of strong arms latch onto me and gently pull me up to my feet. I opened my eyes widely as I realized I was in the kitchen of my house. Standing right in front of the sink, feathers all around me on the floor.

"What…happened?" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes as I leaned on Harry, and Ron held me steady with one hand.

"Hedwig flew in and knocked you down. You hit your head on the floor, and you've been unconscious ever since. I heard you scream, found you, and helped Harry down the stairs," Ron said as though he was extremely proud of himself.

"I've been…asleep?" I asked, my eyes widening in realization. I looked down into the sink before me and saw a shattered glass. The glass I'd been filling up to take to Harry, so he could take his medication. The glass I'd dropped because Hedwig had zoomed to the window and crashed into me.

But that had been months ago.

"No! No, it's not right!" I argued, snatching my arm away from Ron and propping myself against the counter. Harry and Ron stared at me, shocked.

"What do you mean? You hit your head, Hermione…you need to lie down," Harry suggested softly, already coming toward me and reaching out to take my hand.

"No!" I screeched, backing away from him awkwardly, my head pounding. "It wasn't a dream! I didn't dream it all! Because I could feel it, and smell it, and taste it! I could taste it, Harry!" I said pleadingly, willing him to believe me. I could tell by the look on his face that he did not. His countenance looked sad, hurt, broken. I shook my head, swallowed, and slapped my palms against the counter in frustration.

"Hermione, you really should lie down. You've taken such good care of me; I won't have any problem with it. Does your head hurt?" Harry asked, reaching up to my head with one hand and pressing it against my forehead.

"Stop! You have to listen to me!" I begged, shaking his hand off. He recoiled from me as though I'd burned him. I ignored the concerned looks on the faces of my two friends, sure that they would understand once I'd explained.

"Harry—you were there! You and Ron, and me, and Vol…him, and all the people we know, and…Draco! All of us! And you, me, Ron, and Draco were all living in this house together, because the Ministry brought Draco here to serve me! And at first it was terrible, but I began to trust him and like him and lo--"

"Hermione, this is rubbish. You've hit your head, and now you're talking nonsense. Malfoy never came to work for you. And since when do you call him 'Draco'?" Ron demanded insensitively. I glared at him, angry at being interrupted when I had so many important things to say.

"Since I fell in love with him!" I said, stomping my foot, blood pumping furiously through my veins. The rush of adrenaline that came with being so upset made me completely awake, and I was able to stand on my own, if somewhat unsteadily. I stopped leaning against the counter and stared at Harry and Ron, who were open-mouthed and looked at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"You can't be in love with Malfoy, 'Mione! This…you need to rest! It was just a dream, that's all it was, I promise you. Please…go upstairs and get in bed!" Harry begged; his face contorted with ultimate confusion.

"Harry's right, 'Mione! You've been here the whole time, on the floor. It was just a dream, that's all!" Ron offered, coming closer to me, holding out his hands in a pleading gesture.

My mouth dropped open as a silence took hold of us. They didn't believe me. My own best friends didn't believe me! I knew it wasn't a dream! I'd felt it! I felt fear, pain, desire, and I had a conscience. And I felt the warmth of Draco's body, and I'd smelled the fragrance of his sweat as he'd fought to protect me from the Death Eaters. And I'd felt his lips when he'd pressed them to my neck.

It was real. It had to be.

Otherwise, I was in love with a dream. And with all the things I'd dealt with and all the decisions I'd made, I could not find out that my love was a lie. It would kill me.

Suddenly, I saw a look of understanding pass between Harry and Ron. A second later, long before my instincts even told me to run, both of them had each grabbed an arm and a leg, and they were hauling me up the steps to my room.

"No!" I screamed, kicking and clawing at them until my lungs hurt. "Stop it! Stop it now! You don't know what you're doing! Put me down now!" I demanded, hysteria taking control of me as they struggled to carry me down the hall to my room.

"LET ME GO!" I screeched, my voice high-pitched and eerie-sounding. But I was desperate. They couldn't do this to me. They were my friends. Not my psychiatrists. And they were tearing me away from something that had happened; something that was very real, and I knew it.

"Get the door!" Harry yelled to Ron over me. Ron struggled to hold me still while managing to turn the doorknob to my bedroom and push the door open.

I thrashed even more wildly, aiming for any body part that Harry or Ron would miss, should it be torn off. I could tell Harry was in immense pain from carrying me, due to his serious injury, because he grunted and groaned as he carried me; I felt a strange sense of affection creeping into me as I realized that he was only doing what he felt was necessary to help me…but he didn't know that he was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Hermione, I didn't want to do this, but…" Harry trailed off, and I could tell he was getting something out of his pocket.

His wand.

"HARRY! YOU WOULDN'T! PLEASE!"

"You won't hold still, Hermione! I have no other choice! Petrificus total--"

I closed my eyes, expecting to feel my body go rigid any second. But instead, I heard a voice booming loudly downstairs, interrupting Harry. I felt Harry's and Ron's hands clench even tighter around me; I opened my eyes to see their faces contorted with shock.

"HERMIONE!" bellowed the familiar voice. Harry and Ron were still holding onto me, but their grip had loosened considerably. I shrugged off their hands and stood, rushing back down the hallway to find myself at the top of the steps. A man was already rushing up them, a look of determination on his pale, smooth face.

I stopped dead as I caught sight of him. He stopped as well, in the middle of the stairs, looking up at me. He was breathing heavily as though he'd run a great distance, and he stared at me, gasping for air. I realized I was too, after fighting my friends for my freedom. Draco's clothes were tattered and worn; I recognized them as the clothes that he'd worn when he'd first arrived to serve me. When he'd first come from Azkaban.

Neither of us spoke a word. I heard the soft, cautious footsteps of Harry and Ron approach from behind me. The footsteps stopped then, and I knew they were as awestruck as I was.

Draco blinked, his mouth slightly open, taking in great gulps of air. I searched his eyes for any sign that he remembered, any sign that proved I wasn't imagining things. Although, that had very much been confirmed by his sudden appearance. Maybe he did remember…maybe he knew…maybe…it would all be okay.

He came up on another step, and I descended one, making us level with each other, since I was on the step directly above him. He only stared at me, breathing raggedly, licking his lips. I bit my lip and looked into his eyes, wondering if he'd tell me he'd come to tell me he remembered…or that he'd had a horrible dream about me, just before he pulled out his wand and killed me.

Suddenly, a ton of questions popped into my mind, and even before I could stop myself, they were spilling from my lips.

"How did you find me? Did you run all the way here? Are you okay? Do you remember?"

He only stared at me for a moment before, slowly, a small smile turned up the corners of his perfect mouth.

"Yes, Hermione. I remember. I remember everything." His smile widened quickly, and I felt warm arms wrap around my waist. I heard Harry and Ron gasp in shock behind me, but honestly, I couldn't have cared less. Draco was there, wrapping his arms around me, proving I hadn't been dreaming.

"Can I?" he asked softly. It wasn't hard for me to figure out what he'd meant.

"Please do," I replied just as softly, sliding my hands around his neck and letting my thumbs rest on his jaw. He smiled and began to approach me, but then he pulled away, an inquisitive look on his face.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" I asked, somewhat disappointed.

"Was your dream the same as mine?"

My eyes flashed as I stared at him.

"It wasn't a dream. It was real. And you're going to kiss me now, or I'm going to hex you!" I demanded, my voice sounding strangely light and happy.

"Yes, Master," he said, smiling again.

He pressed his lips to mine then, and all the world melted away. Whether we were standing in a field in the middle of nowhere, lying on a quilt-covered bed, or cleaning up cheese fondue, I didn't know. All I knew was, Draco Malfoy was kissing me, Harry and Ron were freaking out behind me, and I definitely wasn't dreaming.

His lips moved against mine with a passion equal to nothing I'd known before. I lost myself in kissing him, not caring that Ron and Harry were still watching.

Later, he would explain why he'd been out of breath; Raculia Minicent had informed him that he was going to be my slave until my dying day, and he hadn't even argued. As soon as they'd stepped outside Azkaban, in fact, he'd run all the way to my home, Minicent following breathlessly at his heels. When he'd arrived at his destination, Minicent had allowed him inside and apparated, leaving a charm on the doorway that would prevent Draco from leaving until I'd seen him.

And later, I would sit down with Harry, Ron, and Draco and explain the whole mess. Every tiny detail was laid out for them to contemplate, except the moments Draco and I shared in the little house in the field. That was ours and ours alone, and both of us knew we'd neither share it with anyone.

And Voldemort really was dead. Draco suggested playfully once that I'd had 'suppressed fear' that had caused me to have a nightmare. I shook my head, slapped him gently on the arm, and smiled, knowing he didn't really believe it.

It was fate; that was all there was to it.

But whether it was fate, fear, or a combination of the two, I didn't care. I was just happy to have Draco at all.

And I was especially glad to have known what it felt like to own a Malfoy.

The End.

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