Forget Me Not

Chapter One: Anguish

"You did this! It's your fault!" Furry danced in his eyes, he knew if he wasn't being held back he would use the killing curse. He was vaguely aware of pathetic sobs, and a pleading voice claiming it was an accident, but he could care less what the worthless peice of shit said, what had been done was his bloody fault. How could this happen? He did everything...EVERYTHING he was supposed to do after the sodding war per Dumbledore's request. So how?! Why her? Was his past so treacherous that he was paying for it with her life? No. She was too good. Rage continued to lick through his veins as he watched the barely noticeable rise and fall over her delicate form. He had to do something, before it really was too late. He sucked in a jagged breath to try and steady his nerves as he placed his hand in his pocket and felt for the vile that his Godfather had given him some time before all hell broke loose all those years ago in war, he had always kept it, never did use it. Which he thanked his lucky stars for. He idly wondered if he knew this was going to happen, he was warned to only use it when dire situation called upon, and he knew why. It was a strong healing draught, but there were side effects, ones, that if he were the selfish prick he used to be, he would almost consider not using it. As quickly as the thought came he shoved it away. No, this was what needed to be done. She had to be saved, no matter what.

"Potter, get the Weasel out of my sight before I really do kill him." He spat as he stepped forward and kneeled beside the beautiful witch. He drug out the potion from the safety of his robes and brought the liquid to her lips, willing it to go down her throat in hopes that it would soon save her.

The minutes ticked by, and he thought that time actually slowed down to a slow trickling pace. He was out of his mind, so worried that it really wasn't working, she hadn't moved, or uttered a word, but she had suffered multiple broken bones, and over half her body was covered in lacerations, so he knew it would take time to mend them. In all actuality he was amazed that she was alive, but relieved he had a chance to save her. He wasn't aware of how long it had been since he first administered the potion. Possibly twenty minutes or thirty, maybe an hour. But just when he felt like screaming and hexing every sodding thing in sight, a loud shriek came bubbling out beside him. He looked down to see her face wrenched in pain and her back started to arch as another scream took over. It was cries of pure agony, and it took all of him not to hold her and try and soothe the pain away. It was cruel torture to watch, he was now acutely aware of time, it had been a solid fifteen minutes of shrill blood curtailing screams. He thought he was going to fall apart with each cry that passed her lips. The logical part of his brain knew it was her bones mending due to the draught working, but the emotional part of him was begging to take over. Another five long minutes drugged by, she had stopped thrashing around but it seemed the howls just got louder. He hung his head on the side of the bed where she laid, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes the tears that were threatening to spill over wouldn't.

"Why is she still screaming?" He said nothing, not even bothering to look up at who was speaking. He didn't care; nothing mattered but the witch that was bellowing in agony beside him. He prayed to anyone who was listening that she would just be ok. Hell, he would even kneel before Godric himself and plead until his voice was hoarse.

Silence fell upon the room, his head jerked up to see what seemed to be a peaceful looking slumber of the witch now resting beside him. Thank Salazar, it was over. She was breathing more heavily, which was a good sign. He examined her body, careful not to disturb her, instead of deep cuts, there was just slight bruises in their place. He traced his hand along her face, committing the feel of her skin to memory. It seemed to erase the worry from her at his touch.

"Thank Merlin!" He assumed it was Potter behind him, but again he didn't bother to look, he didn't want to tear his eyes off of his witch. He settled back down to sit beside her again and sometime during the night he drifted to sleep. He wasn't sure how long he had been out but it was ended by a surprised squeak above him.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" He looked up when he heard the cracked voice resonating beside him. He looked into her eyes, noticing the worry and confusion that lined her lovely features. He could hear his heart breaking, she didn't remember him.

"Hermione..." He said carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. "It's me, Draco."

"Yes." She said slowly, irritation seemed to take hold on her face. "I can see that, but what in the name of Merlin are you doing at my bedside?"

So she did remember him? Oh Gods; maybe she just remember the bad parts of him. That might be worse than forgetting him completely. He didn't want to upset her too much, she still was weak.

"I am watching over you, I gave you the potion that healed you...had to see it all the way through..." He shrugged as he tried desperately to sound nonchalant, but in truth all he wanted to do was crush her to him and never let go. A puzzled expression crossed her eyes, he knew she was trying to make sense of what was happening.

"How did I end up here?" It took every bit of control to keep his face clam. He wanted to curse Ronald Weasley's name, but again, he didn't want to upset her. He wasn't exactly sure what she remembered of her past.

"You had a bit of an accident, you were trying to talk with someone and fell off of a moving staircase." Vague his description was, but he figured it would make her complacent for now. Her eyes went wide, there had only been few who had ever had the unfortunate occurrence of falling off one and none had ever lived to speak about it.

"The potion I gave you, it has memory side effects, You obviously know who you are, but do you remember anything else?" He said with a lump in his throat, he wanted desperately for her to remember their time together. She slowly nodded.

"I am a Professor here, I remember Harry and Ron, all my schooling, my parents, and that you and I bitterly hate each other."

Bloody perfect; so everything but him. Well it seems her memory of him stopped at Hogwarts. Just his sodding luck. Leave it to fucking Weasel to ruin everything, he was seriously considering hexing him into oblivion. He didn't think he could sit there much longer and look at everything he was going to lose. Today was supposed to be a special day, the day where he was going to ask the know it all witch; Hermione Granger to be his wife.