Anytime

"Okay, can you add three drops of this mixture to the potion? Just three."

Pansy accepted the vial of rose quartz-coloured, rose- smelling liquid, and did as Astoria had asked. Her friend's potion was bubbling away, clear and blue as the first potion had been, but with the added mixture it changed to something as clear as water.

"What was that?"

"Doxy venom and unicorn hair mixed with Phoenix tears. Add the fluxweed, then stir it clockwise for another twenty seconds and then it'll be done."

Astoria began cleaning up the mess she'd made while Pansy began counting down. In that short amount of time, the clarity of the potion changed; by the time twenty seconds was up, it had become a metallic shade of silver, reflecting everything and anything.

Astoria carefully scooped up a spoonful into a vial and rushed to Hermione's room; Pansy followed suit, not wanting to not be present. With great care, she administered the potion into Hermione's mouth.

Immediately, the blood around the cut vanished and the cut itself began to knit itself back together; the scar itself wouldn't ever leave but it would close the edges of her violent scratches and shrink the raised flesh that had been her body's response to the cursed knife.

That would be the phoenix tears at work.

She didn't wake up, but any tenseness in her body disappeared, leaving her relaxed and sinking into the mattress.

Astoria sighed.

"That was amazing, Astoria. You ought to become a potioneer."

"I would, but I enjoy working in real estate. Working with muggles and magical people. It's interesting."

Pansy fell silent, not wanting to aggravate the other girl. She smiled, genuinely.

"I'm glad you do."

***

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, cursing myself.

Why did I think it was a good idea to try and summon her? I should've known that wasn't a bright idea. Granted, it seemed okay while I was desperate, but I had plenty of time to reconsider my decision.

My mind wanders off to what started this chain of events, and I remember how I figured out online dating was a thing. Melissa had seemed really nice, and at first I had thought that it couldn't have hurt.

I scoff. Look at where I am now.

I had told her that I was seeing Hermione, but it didn't matter because both of us were really only in it for the sex. Hermione- she never gave me any of that, not like we hadn't, but she didn't want to do anything often; really only on special occasions, not just some ordinary night at home.

But after a while she gave me more than just stuff in the bedroom. I began spending more time at her place, she told me she didn't just want sex, she wanted me, too. She told me one day that she'd loved me, and stupidly, so did I. And then we started seeing each other, in secret, obviously, but still actually dating.

And then Hermione left.

I thought she had just left for an errand or whatever and then she'd come home, she could cook, we'd have dinner, then she'd clean up and we'd do something, maybe just take a walk or whatever.

But she didn't. And then I noticed her clothes were gone, her makeup, her toiletries, even the coffee table I had told her not to buy- she must've shrunk it.

I was so mad, I wrote to the Prophet and spread the story. But now I regret it. Melissa and I, we're technically dating now, but I've realized that I'm not as happy as I was with Hermione.

Not that I'm going to break up with Melissa now, but only because I don't think Hermione's ever coming back.

What have I done with my life and what did it get me?

***

After a short break (during which the two girls left to get pizza) they returned to find a disorientated Hermione, confused as to why she was in her room and why Astoria and Pansy were with her. Astoria nearly fainted with relief, but Pansy said sternly,

"Oh hell to the no. I refuse to have someone else faint and not wake up."

Suddenly, there was a banging on the door, Astoria left to open it and then a very haggard-looking Draco Malfoy burst into the Room, practically collapsing with relief onto the bed when he saw Hermione was awake. She slid out of bed, a little wobbly in her feet but managed to make her way over to him. Astoria and Pansy shared a look that said, and shared a smirk before the two of them slipped out, locking the front door behind them.

Unsure of how to address her boss in this awkward situation, Hermione said timidly,

"Mister Malfoy?"

He turned into her embrace, and she could feel his tears soaking into her blouse, his shoulders shaking as his tears fell shakily down his face. Somehow not uncomfortable she asked, "Are- are you alright?" Obviously he wasn't, but Hermione hoped that if he told her maybe she could do something about this. It wasn't like she was physically comfortable, what with her knees being forced down by her weight onto the floor, her torso twisted into an awkward position, her boss crying into her shoulder- literally- as they sat on floor, next to the corner of the bed. All of a sudden, as if she was in fire, he pushed away from her, and strangely, the first thing she noted was the absence of his body heat.

"Erm..."

"Salazar, Hermione, how can you even look at me? I'm the reason you have these terrible nightmares, the flashbacks, the damned scar. How can you look at me, let alone work with me on a daily basis and de- defend me?"

His voice was barely a whisper, a faint rustling of leaves on the summer breeze, but she heard it loud and clear. Compelled to defend him from himself, she got up in a rage, not caring that fifteen minutes ago she had been unconscious.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, listen to me. I don't care how unprofessional this is; listen to me.

Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened. You are not responsible for your lunatic, maniacal bitch of an aunt, alright? Stop blaming yourself for the past. You couldn't have done anything, because then you would've died. Now look at me. I'm fine, okay? This is - this is the aftermath of living, and I'd rather be alive with this scar and these memories than no longer in existence.

As for how can I defend you- how can you ask that question? You've changed. The fact that we can have a serious, intellectual, civil conversation is a tremendous improvement from me slapping you in third year." At that Draco let out a small chuckle.

"Stop blaming yourself for what you can't change, and don't dwell on the past. It does no good to dwell on dreams and forget to live." She finished her rant quietly, quoting Dumbledore.

He looked up at her in awe; she couldn't possibly believe all that.

She looked at him sternly, reminding him of McGonagall in first year, when they had gotten detention.

"You have that look on your face. Don't you dare think I'm lying to you. And if I ever hear you say anything- anything!- like that ever again, I will hex you into next week."

Draco smiled; a genuine smile, not a smirk, and said quietly,

"Thank you, Hermione."

She looked stunned."For offering to hex you? You could always ask, you know." She teased. At that, he scowled.

"No! I don't want to be hexed, thank you very much; for the pep talk." He finished softly.

She sank down onto the floor next to him.

"Anytime."

And as they sat there in a peaceful silence, they were thinking how strange it was, two former rivals that easily would've harmed and taunted one another, were now on much better terms than they had ever been.

Draco thought ruefully.

Hermione thought, surprised that she didn't like that idea, before shaking her head and blushing, not understanding why.

***