hi my loves

sorry for the wait! chapter 33 will also be up within the next few days. i'm not sure yet if it'll be sunday or monday, but i'll let you know on instagram. btw chapter 33 is...... not one you'll want to miss

before we get into the chapter, I just wanted to clear up a few things re: obliviation. the obliviation rules are different in the books and movies (hermione does not use "obliviate" on her parents in the books), and here i've changed them a tiny bit too to fit the story. i've mentioned that before but i think sometimes people skip the author's notes lol

so, just to recap: 1. obliviation is irreversible. 2. hermione did not use it on her parents 3. if memories are extracted before "obliviate" is cast, they can be restored.

d r a c o

He wanted to yell. Wanted to scream at the stars for paving this path. Wanted to take Belly's hand and run away with her -

But if there was one thing he knew by now, it was that the world would keep taking. And taking, and taking. And he would have to wait, if he wanted it to give a little.

He wanted to kiss her again; of course he did. But it was because of his own reckless idiocy - how foolish he had been to ignore the knocks at the apartment door - that Astoria had seen her. Had barged in and laid eyes on Belly, and now everything might be ruined.

He wanted to kiss her, to pull her into his arms and never let her leave again. But he couldn't have that, for now.

So, he settled for lying in his room of green stars, one arm stretched out across the space where she had slept. For glaring into the green-tinged dark and silently cursing everyone who stood in their way.

-

i s o b e l

Isobel kicked off her shoes and unravelled Draco's scarf from her neck. She trailed through the cold, quiet house, and combed numbly through the actions of brushing her teeth, washing her face, and changing into her own pyjamas.

She lay in bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept in this bed. She tried to think back, tried to sift through the days and nights in her mind.

But all she could think of was Draco, and his moon-pale skin, and his palms running across her waist, her back, her thighs. His long fingers, intertwining with hers.

Hours later, she woke to someone shaking her vigorously. The usual jolt of panic coursed through her as she fluttered open her eyes. She tried to focus on her surroundings, wondering what could possibly be wrong, now.

But a sheet of flaming red hair hung over her. Isobel lay back and closed her eyes again. "Hi, Ginny."

"Morning, sunshine." She felt Ginny sit down beside her, on the edge of the bed. "Malfoy sent me to see you."

Isobel opened her eyes. "He did?"

"He said to tell you that his mother has dragged him out for the day - Christmas shopping or something -" Ginny raised a shoulder. "I don't really remember. Anyway, he gave me strict instructions to be your bodyguard, and I fear if I don't, he will skin me alive. So here I am."

"He wrote to you?"

Ginny nodded. "He and I have been corresponding so much, recently. It's very strange."

Isobel sat up. She scanned the sill of the window that Draco had once stood by, had helped her climb through. Sure enough, a small, white piece of parchment rested there. She smiled, and reached out to open the window. "I got one, too."

Belly,

My mother arrived early this morning. She is taking me out for Christmas shopping and afternoon tea, and of course I have no valid reason to refuse.

I am positively thrilled to go shopping. I'll be at your house whenever I'm free.

Stay safe.

Ginny frowned over Isobel's shoulder. "Where's the part where he professes his undying love?"

Isobel snorted. "We haven't said that yet. That word."

"Love?"

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Well, he said it indirectly. He told my mother that I'm the person that he loves most."

"How very disgusting."

"He hasn't said it to me, though. Directly."

Ginny's expression softened. "Maybe he's waiting until he's sure you're ready to hear it."

"Maybe."

Isobel walked over to her loose floorboard, in the corner of her room. She tucked the parchment under her half of Draco's letter, which rested alongside her secret jar of Floo Powder. She made a mental note to get back Draco's half of the letter, and fix them back together.

She looked back to Ginny, who was stretching her arms. "It's so early," yawned Ginny. "Malfoy's owl woke me up. As reimbursement for being your bodyguard, will you make me breakfast?"

"Sure."

As Isobel made them coffee and toast, she filled Ginny in on all that had happened since they last spoke. She relayed meeting Astoria, the St. Mungo's visit, and everything that Maggie had finally explained. When she finished, Ginny was seething. "I never trusted your mother," she said resolutely. "Never trusted her."

Isobel poured their coffee into mugs. "She acted on an impulse," she said. "In the height of her emotion after the war."

"Aren't you angry?"

Isobel smiled. "Oh, I'm furious," she replied. "I'm just learning to understand why she did it."

"And Malfoy? What was his response?"

Isobel paused. She sat across from Ginny; wrapped her fingers around her mug. "Draco was strangely empathetic," she said, finally. "Like - he hates her, for locking me up for so long. But he didn't seem to think it was an unfair response."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Never thought I'd hear Malfoy and empathetic in the same sentence." Her eyes dropped to Isobel's bare neck. "And you finally got rid of the cursed necklace?"

"It's not cursed," said Isobel, rolling her eyes. "But no, I'm not wearing it. Draco has it."

"So he hasn't yet forced you to put it on?"

"No." Isobel looked away. "I won't let my mother save me again. Not at the cost of her life."

She had never been so furious at her mother - wasn't sure she had ever felt so much anger in her life. But still, there was no question in her mind regarding the necklace. It would stay in Draco's pocket, and her mother would eventually, hopefully, be discharged from St. Mungo's.

"My mum said there was no way of undoing the necklace's enchantment," she said. "So I won't put it on. Not even to protect my memories."

"And you're positive that your mum never extracted your memories?" asked Ginny. "They could be in this house, somewhere, in a vial. Waiting to be restored to your mind."

Isobel sighed. "I've searched through this entire house, looking for evidence of memories that I've lost. I've looked everywhere, for any object that belonged to my past life. Anything that might have belonged to Draco. But nothing."

Ginny reached across the table. She placed her hand gently on top of Isobel's. "I'm sorry, Iz."

Isobel shrugged. Since speaking to her mother, her sadness at losing her memories had dissolved into anger. She finally had someone to blame for everything that had happened, finally had a direction in which to aim her emotions. And between all of that, and confronting Astoria, and worrying about Draco's parents. . . There wasn't much time, anymore, to mourn her memories.

"The only trouble now," she said, "is hanging on to the memories I have."

Ginny finished her coffee and sat back. "So have you been extracting them?" she asked. "Just in case Lucius comes along and Obliviates you?"

"Should I be?"

"Obviously -"

Isobel felt her eyebrows knit together. "But," she said, "What's the point of extracting them, if I'm just going to forget they're there?" She frowned. "If I did extract them, and someone Obliviated me, how would I know what I'm supposed to do with a vial that I don't recognise?"

Ginny stared at her, disbelieving. "If only you knew someone who could hold onto the vial for you."

"But -"

"If only you had a friend who could keep your memories safe, and in the case that someone uses Obliviate on you again, restore them to your mind."

"Ginny -"

"At least the memories you have now," said Ginny. "If you extract everything you know about Malfoy now - that is, finding the letter, meeting him, all that - I'll keep it with me, for the next time his father decides to attack you."

"Ginny," said Isobel. "I appreciate your kindness, I really do. But I can't let you get involved in this."

Ginny gave her an affronted look. "Of course you can."

"No," said Isobel firmly. "This - all of this - is more serious than just hiding from Lucius. My mother is in the hospital -" She broke off, and searched Ginny's sullen expression. "Lucius Malfoy is just as dangerous as he was before the war. If not more dangerous. He's more bitter than ever; more desperate to get his way. I think you're already in danger, just by knowing I'm alive. If he finds out you've got my memories. . ." She shook her head. "I don't want to put you at risk, too."

"What if I don't mind being put at risk?"

"I wouldn't expect you to mind. But I won't let you do it."

"Fine," said Ginny, irritably. She withdrew her hand from Isobel's. "But I still think you're being incredibly stupid by not extracting your memories, while you still have them."

While you still have them. Isobel's throat felt dry.

Extracting them was, actually, not a bad idea. There were no side effects from a memory extraction spell, other than a briefly passing headache. The spell wouldn't impact her current memories at all; it would just create a physical, magical, copy. Even if she forgot that she had extracted them. . . It was a back-up plan. It was better than not extracting them at all.

"Fine," she said to Ginny. "I'll extract them."

Ginny allowed herself a small smile. "Fine. Do it now, then."

"I'll do it now," said Isobel, standing. "But I'm keeping them. Not you."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Go on, then."

Isobel rummaged in the cupboard under the sink, where her mother stored all of the medical equipment she had accumulated over her years of work as a Healer. The cupboard was dusty and cluttered: untouched for months, at the least.

She found a small, teardrop-shaped glass vial, and held it up to the sunlight. "This will do."

Ginny watched as Isobel screwed open the lid of the vial and held it ready in her left hand. Then, she touched the tip of her wand to her temple, closed her eyes and concentrated on the memories she wanted to pull out. She combed through each memory she had of Draco - from the day she first found his letter, tear-stained in her mother's wardrobe, to the nightclub, to meeting him in the Leaky Cauldron. His apartment, her house, the cottage on the beach. The wine in the park, the green plastic stars.

When she opened her eyes, a wispy, glinting trail of silver light had formed a fragmented line between her temple and her wand. She guided it up, gently, with her wand, then dropped it into the vial.

She screwed back on the lid, ignoring the dull throb at her temple. She looked down at her silver, glittering memories. How very strange it was that they were tangible, now. How strange it was that they might be easier to protect in a tiny glass vial than in her own brain.

She placed the vial on the table. "I'll keep it in my room," she told Ginny. "Under the loose floorboard."

Ginny nodded slowly, eyeing the memories. "Tell Malfoy to do the same with his own memories," she said. "Just in case."

"Just in case," echoed Isobel. "Hopefully we'll never actually need them."

Ginny nodded again, but her expression was doubtful, and Isobel knew what she was thinking. With parents like Maggie Young and Lucius Malfoy, and with their secret in Astoria's hands -

It seemed quite inevitable that whatever came next would be bad news.