hi!! I missed u guys, thank you for waiting

this chapter ended up being pretty long so I've decided not to post 28 until next Friday. when I post 29 is still tbd but clearly I still can't stick to a schedule so am going to stop making promises lol, but you can expect the next few chapters very soon :)

just wanted to remind everyone that the rules of Obliviate are different in the HP books than they are in the movies. here, the rules are a little different, too. everything is thoroughly explained (and isn't very complicated, anyway), just want to ward off all "that's not correct" comments bc I have done my research and have adjusted the info a tiny bit, to fit this story.

this chapter isn't as much draco/belly content as the last few have been, but the next few ..... ahhh I'm excited

btw if you haven't seen them yet, there are a few Spotify playlists for this story, you can find the link in my bio. still working on YouTube ones :)

ok hope u enjoy :)

d r a c o

Draco couldn't sleep.

He wouldn't have predicted that. Had he known that this would be the peculiar course that life would take, he might have expected peaceful nights following her return. Would have thought that her presence beside him in bed would be a comfort; a restoration of normality.

Instead he drifted in and out of sleep, restless and paranoid. Every faint noise was an intruder, breaking in to dispel Draco from Isobel's mind. Every hazy shadow was an onlooker, ready to whisk her away.

But hours later, with daylight filtering through the bedroom, Belly was still beside him. One small arm was still wrapped tightly around his middle.

For over a year, he had dreamt of a moment like this, and the deja vu was overwhelming. He knew the exact sleepy-eyed look she'd give him if she woke now, dark eyelashes fluttering. He knew the way she would stretch, the quiet sound of her yawn. He knew all of that, but she barely knew him at all. Good morning, I love you, she would have said, this time two years ago. Now she would only say part of it.

She shifted her position in her sleep, moved her hand across his t-shirt to rest on his shoulder. He breathed out, breathed in; thanked his lucky stars that she preferred to be here, rather than alone in her house. Finally, finally, he drifted off to sleep.

-

i s o b e l

There was too much space beside her when she woke. She stretched out an arm, but was met only with empty sheets. Opened her eyes, saw only an empty bed.

Panic rose inside her at once. "Draco?"

She got up and moved around the bed to the living room door. Peered nervously around it, half expecting to see Lucius Malfoy there, waiting for her. Wand pointed at her heart. But the living room and kitchen nook were both empty.

"Belly?"

She spun on her heels, hand on her heart.

Draco stood in the doorway of the bathroom, fully dressed; hair darkened with dampness. Toothbrush in his hand, hanging at his side.

"Oh," she breathed. She hadn't even noticed the sound of the shower running.

"You alright?"

"Sorry," she said. "I'm jumpy." She tried to push the nervous energy away; tried to force herself to be calm. "Good morning."

"Morning," he said, mouth curving into a smile. They looked at each other across the bed, and she swallowed.

Then, the sound came of the front door bursting open. Draco was by her side in an instant, wand raised as he pushed open the living room door; nudging Isobel behind him as she scrabbled at her waist for her own wand -

But in the living room stood Ginny, shaking out an umbrella. She looked up at Draco and Isobel, standing close together in the doorway of his bedroom, their wands pointed straight at her. Her eyebrows almost rose into her hairline. "Well, well."

"Fucking hell, Weasley," said Draco. He swung around and stormed back to the bathroom. Shoved his toothbrush back in its place. "Doesn't anyone bloody knock anymore?"

His words did not appear to faze Ginny, whose eyes were on Isobel. She looked positively gleeful. "Isobel Young, you little minx."

Isobel pushed her wand back into her waistband. "What time is it?"

Ginny let out a delighted trill of laughter. "Past noon. Have you been asleep until now? My goodness -"

"We didn't get to sleep until late -"

"Oh, I bet you didn't."

Draco reappeared at her side, still glaring at Ginny. "What do you want?"

"Pleasure as always, Malfoy," replied Ginny, unfussed. She smoothed back her long, flame-red hair. "I showed up at Isobel's house as I haven't heard from her since Friday night, and I was worried about her safety. When no-one was home, I thought I might pay you a visit, in case you knew where she was. As it happens -" her smile grew, eyes flicking between the pair of them - "you know exactly where she is."

"Well, she's safe," said Draco, and Isobel suppressed a smile at the grumble in his voice.

She walked forward to hug Ginny. Ginny squeezed her arms around her waist, whispered, "have you forgiven me yet for leaving you alone in a club at midnight?"

Isobel stepped back, smiling. "Almost."

She tried to remember how much Ginny knew. So much had happened since she had seen Draco in that nightclub. Her whole perspective of him had changed; everything she knew about their past relationship had shifted. Ginny didn't know about Maggie in the hospital, about Lucius cornering her in the alleyway. She didn't even know about the cottage.

She felt suddenly guilty. The past few days had felt like a month, a tumultuous blur of emotion and being caught up in Draco. They had been so focused on each other; so swept away in their own little world, that she hadn't at any point thought to let Ginny know about any of it.

"I wanted to take you to lunch," said Ginny. She gave Draco a hard look. "If I'm allowed to steal her away for a few hours, that is."

Isobel looked up at him, expecting an absolute refusal; expecting to see the same fiery glare that he had shot at Blaise the day before. But he was looking at her. Waiting for her response.

"I think I'll be safe," she told him. "As long as I'm with Ginny, and as long as we stick to public areas."

He gave a short nod, eyes running down her features. As if Ginny wasn't even in the room. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Ginny's eyes flickered between the two of them again, this time with apprehension. "You two are acting so weird."

"Don't let her out of your sight, Weasley," said Draco, turning his gaze to her. "Do you understand?"

"No worries, Malfoy," said Ginny, checking her watch. "Should anything happen to her, you can hold me entirely accountable."

His expression hardened. "Nothing's going to happen to her."

"I'm going to get changed," said Isobel, moving back into the bedroom. "Draco, maybe you should fill Ginny in on, um. Everything."

Draco looked as though he'd rather do anything else but sit and converse with Ginny Weasley, but he nodded curtly. Isobel closed the door of his bedroom, found her things from the day before where she had left them in a corner. She used cleaning charms to freshen all of her clothing, and decided to visit home after their lunch for new clothes.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth and combed her fingers through her curls. When she got back to the kitchen, Draco and Ginny were talking - to her relief - but standing so far apart that they may as well have been in different rooms. Isobel bit back a smile and went to stand beside Ginny. Draco's eyes followed her across the room as he said, "So now my father thinks that I'm marrying Astoria and that Isobel hasn't a clue who I am."

Ginny looked horrified. She turned to Isobel, looking at her with newfound respect. "You fought off Lucius Malfoy?"

"Not really," said Isobel. "The necklace did most of the work."

"I knew there was something funny about that necklace."

Isobel shook her head, laughing now. "You're both obsessed with the necklace," she said, touching her fingertips to the star that still rested in her coat pocket. "All it does is keep me safe."

"And yet you're not wearing it anymore," said Ginny.

"Only because it's put my mother in hospital."

Ginny squeezed Isobel's arm. "Malfoy told me about that. I'm sorry."

Isobel did not like the way she apologized, as if her mother was too sick to be helped. "She'll be out of hospital soon," she said, taking the necklace from her pocket and holding it out in her palm. "I just wish there was a way to undo the magic." She gave Draco a sidelong glance, knowing that he was the one who had bought the necklace for her, years before. That it had been a different thing entirely back then.

"Right," said Ginny, glancing at her watch again. "We need to get going, or we'll be late."

"Late for what?"

"We're meeting Hermione," said Ginny. "I thought she might be able to help you with the whole memory situation."

Isobel nodded slowly, understanding. Hermione likely knew far more about memory loss than the rest of them did, given that she had used a memory charm on her own parents. Still, it had never occurred to Isobel to ask her for help. Last time she had seen Hermione, Draco had still been a distant figure who she'd been too afraid to speak to.

She dropped the necklace back into her pocket and turned to Draco, who leaned against a wall. Arms folded across his chest; grey eyes on her. "I'll see you later, then."

He gave her a single nod. "Be safe."

"You too," she said, fidgeting with her nails. She wanted to hug him, but that would feel weird. Forced. They didn't hug. Especially not in front of Ginny, who was watching them with hawk-like eyes.

But Draco walked with them down the stairs of the building and across the lobby, where rain beat against the glass door. He brushed the backs of his fingers against hers, unnoticed by Ginny, then dipped his head to speak into her ear. "D'you have your wand?"

She turned her face to his; saw the worry in his eyes, a betrayal of his calm exterior. "Yes," she said. "I'll be fine, I promise."

Ginny pushed open the door, and the sounds of people, traffic and heavy rain filled the lobby. She opened her umbrella, and Isobel looked back to Draco, whose eyes were on her, still -

She pulled his fingers into hers, quickly: squeezed his hand. "See you later."

"See you later," he mumbled, and before Isobel could say or do anything more, Ginny was grabbing her arm and marching her off through the rain.

"Sorry to cut the love stuff short," said Ginny, "but you can get back to it once we've met Hermione."

They huddled together under Ginny's umbrella, weaving in and out of other pedestrians. Isobel felt her cheeks heat up. "It's not really love stuff."

"What is it, then?"

"It's - I don't know what it is. It's complicated."

"We don't have much time," said Ginny. She kept one hand on Isobel's arm, urging her to move faster. "Hermione's hard to wrangle into dates like this."

"Ginny -"

"It's the twenty-second of December - it's essentially Christmas - and she's not free for any longer than her lunch break allows."

"Gin."

Isobel tugged on Ginny's sleeve and Ginny stopped walking, turned to face her in the middle of the street. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to say thank you," said Isobel, and Ginny pursed her lips; did little to hide her impatience. "This time last week, I was so. . . So afraid. I don't know if I would be where I am right now if you hadn't forced me here. If you hadn't forced me to speak to him -"

Ginny poked her arm. "Don't go soft on me now, Isobel Young."

Isobel felt quite certain that if she tried to express her gratitude anymore she might begin to cry. So she settled for wrapping her arm around Ginny's shoulders and snuggling into her side. "Love you, Gin."

She felt Ginny relax. "I love you too, little weirdo." She patted her cheek. "But if you want any help from Hermione, we need to get going."

Isobel straightened; smiled at her friend. "Okay, let's go."

Ginny had picked out a small, deserted coffee shop to meet Hermione in, as it was the closest thing she could find to the Ministry, where Hermione worked. When they walked in, Hermione was already sitting in a far corner, the back of her thick, curly hair just visible from the doorway.

For ten minutes they caught up, discussing Christmas plans and Ginny's wedding and everything else there was to gush over, until Ginny snapped her fingers together and instructed them to talk about the complexities of memory loss, and nothing more. Hermione explained to Isobel how she had modified her parents' memories; had swapped around details of the past in their minds so that they still had a clear narrative of their lives, just a different one to what really had happened. That modification as such was a reversible way of tampering with someone's memory; that Obliviate was entirely different.

"Obliviate is more so a way of removing an element of a person's memory entirely," said Hermione. "That's why recipients of the charm are left so disoriented. Because a part of their memory has simply vanished, and nothing is left in its place. Only a blur, where those memories should be."

Isobel's palms felt clammy. She curled her hands into fists under the table, watched Ginny say, "That's so dangerous."

Hermione nodded fervently. "Incredibly dangerous, especially given that it's irreversible. It should be considered an Unforgivable curse, in my opinion." She fixed her gaze on Isobel. "So, what do you think?"

Isobel's chest felt tight. She spoke weakly. "My mother told me I hit my head."

Hermione's expression softened. "What do you think?" she repeated, her voice gentle.

Isobel took a shaky breath. She had avoided the question for so long; had not wanted to believe that the cause for all of this might be one of the people she loved most in the world. "I think," she said slowly. "I think the way you described Obliviate. . . It fits with what my mind has felt like, since the war."

She clenched her fists tighter, thinking of the days she had spent on the couch in her living room, trying to remember. Trying to wind back her mind, only to be met with a blur where there should have been recollections of experiences and feelings.

"I have a whole storyline with Draco that just doesn't exist in my mind," she said. "There's nothing in its place, it's just missing." She looked at Hermione. "I assume that can't happen just by having hit my head."

Hermione looked back at her, empathy etched deep into her features. Then she gave a small, sad shake of her head.

Isobel blinked back tears. Finally and very reluctantly, she was accepting that someone had, at some stage, erased from her memory every good thing she knew about Draco Malfoy.

"So was it your mum?" asked Ginny, bluntly. "Or Lucius Malfoy?"

"I don't know," said Isobel. She tried to swallow the rising lump in her throat. "Lucius first saw me in Diagon Alley, one time. Then again outside Draco's apartment. And both times. . ." She shook her head, remembering Lucius' confusion the first time he had spoken to her. She had still been trying to remain out of Draco's sight, while Draco had still been grieving, and Lucius hadn't understood why. "He didn't seem like he knew my memories were gone."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Maybe he's just a good liar."

"Maybe," agreed Isobel. "But if his plan was to Obliviate me again anyway, I don't see his motivation to lie. Why would he act like he didn't know that I couldn't remember Draco, only to take my memories again later?"

Ginny hummed, tapping her fingernails against her coffee cup. "And your mother?"

She shook her head. "I don't think it was her, either."

Ginny's and Hermione's expressions dropped in synchrony. "No?"

"If my mother had wanted me to forget Draco for good," said Isobel, "there was so much more she could have done. She could have moved countries, for one thing. Moved away somewhere where she would be sure I would never bump into Draco. And I found Draco's letter folded on a shelf in her wardrobe. No concealment charms, nothing. If she'd wanted me to forget him, she could have just thrown it away - or at least hidden it a little better." She shrugged. "If she had taken my memories of Draco, why wouldn't she destroy the physical evidence of him too?"

Hermione's eyes were wandering over the wall behind Isobel, taking in her words. Contemplating. But Ginny looked fed up. "I'm sick of this," she told Isobel. "Let's go to the hospital now, and you'll ask your mother what happened."

Isobel almost laughed. "You think I haven't tried to ask her?"

But Ginny may as well not have heard her, for she went on: "You're not five years old, Isobel Young. You need to stand up for yourself, need to stop pandering to your mother's weird obsession with you and just tell her how utterly selfish she's being -"

"Hey," interrupted Isobel, temper flaring. "She's not being selfish. She's ill. She's not in her right mind; hasn't been for months, now -"

"All the better if she's ill," said Ginny, rising from the table. "She'll have nowhere to run when we ask her what the bloody hell she did to your brain."

Isobel glared up at Ginny from her seat. "She didn't do anything -"

"Fine," said Ginny, "if you want me to rephrase, we'll ask her what the bloody hell happened to your brain. Happy?"

Hermione reached up a hand; tugged at Ginny's jumper. "Sit down, Gin," she said quietly.

But Ginny remained standing. "I want to go to the hospital," she said, adamantly. "I want to ask Isobel's mother what she did, because clearly we're not going to find the answer any other way -"

"It wasn't her," said Isobel.

Ginny threw up her hands. "Who was it, then?"

Tears had filled Isobel's eyes now. "I've tried asking her," she said. "But every time she's dodged the question. And I can't push too hard if I don't want her to realize I've spoken to Draco." She wiped a sleeve across her eyes. "I don't want to bother her while she's sick, anyway."

A few moments passed in silence, then Ginny sat down again. Folded her arms across her chest. "Sorry for getting heated," she muttered.

Isobel raised a shoulder. She knew her mother hated the Malfoys; knew that she lived in perpetual fear of something terrible happening to Isobel. But still she could not believe that her mother hated Draco enough to banish him from her memories.

She took a breath. "Anyone have any other ideas?" she asked. "I'm all out."

But Ginny and Hermione solemnly shook their heads. For the rest of Hermione's break they sat there, racking their brains, but could think of nothing.

Ginny slid a hand into hers as they Apparated back to Isobel's countryside house; stayed close behind her all through the house to pick up clothes. Gripped her arm as they walked through Diagon Alley and back to Draco's apartment. All on his command.

Isobel wanted desperately to know who had done this to her; who hated the idea of she and Draco being together enough to take whole years from her memory. But all the way back to his apartment, one horrible thought stayed with her.

All they had achieved today was confirm that she had been Obliviated.

But Obliviation was irreversible.

Which meant that unless there was a vial of her memories lying around somewhere on this earth - and she really, truly doubted that there was -

She was never getting her memories of Draco back.