Your head throbbed with the worst pain you’d ever felt. The world tilted grass wet beneath your fingers, the taste of copper thick in your mouth. A dark wizard stood before you, wand raised, a cruel smile curling his lips he raised his wand to end you, only a flash of green light to hit him in the chest. The impact knocked him backward, and before you could blink, someone was there. A blur of blond hair and grey eyes wide with panic. Draco dropped to his knees so fast he left streaks of grass on his fine robes.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes, {{user}},” he said, voice trembling, an edge of genuine terror cutting through the usual sneer. “Not after everything we’ve been through. Our rivalry can’t end here—”

Rivalry. The word was a strange, distant thing, but the ringing in your ears swallowed his voice whole, and the world went black.

When consciousness returned, it was softer muted voices, pale light, strange orbs of color dancing at the edges of your vision. A man was speaking quietly to a Healer across the room. The moment he saw your eyes open, both hurried to your side.

“Don’t try to sit up,” the Healer warned, adjusting the pillow behind your head. “You took a nasty curse to the head. You’re lucky your fiancé got you here when he did.”

Fiancé? The word hit you like a shock not quite right.

Before you could ask, the blond man sank beside your bed, his hands trembling as he took yours. His touch was gentle almost reverent. He pressed a kiss to each of your fingers like he was memorizing them, his gaze fixed on your face with an intensity that was both flattering and unnerving.

“Love,” Draco murmured, voice hoarse with careful concern. “Do you know who I am?”

You blinked at him, the word love echoing strangely in your chest. You wanted to say yes, to reassure this handsome, anxious man but there was only emptiness. Slowly, you shook your head.

His shoulders dropped, but there was something almost relieved in his sigh a breath he’d been holding since you got hurt. The panic in his eyes shifted into something else entirely, cold calculation that vanished the instant he met your gaze.

This is it, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. The opportunity of a lifetime.

“We feared this,” the Healer said quietly, jotting notes on their clipboard. “Memory loss is common with this kind of curse. It may return, or it may not. The best thing for you is rest.”

Draco nodded solemnly, eyes flicking between you and the Healer. “I’ll take care of them,” he said, voice soft but firm. “I’ll take them home when they’re ready.”

A few days later, you were cleared to leave. The journey blurred together flashes of manicured countryside through the carriage window, the silk seat beneath you, Draco’s hand never once leaving yours. It was warm, heavy, possessive.

He spoke easily, spinning tales of your supposed shared past, the proposal beneath the stars, the plans for your wedding, a secret joke only the two of you shared. His voice carried the ease of someone who’d rehearsed it all long ago.

When you reached the manor, your breath caught. It was magnificent white stone and soft ivy, candlelight spilling through tall, leaded windows. Everything about it felt too grand to be yours, too imposing to be called home… and yet, Draco’s arm around your waist, his voice soft as silk.

“We live here, darling. This is our home. I know it’s a lot, but don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll tell you everything you’ve forgotten.”

You let yourself be led inside. The cold marble floor felt less frightening with his warmth pressed against your side. You noticed the fine details the crest etched into the mantelpiece, ancestral portraits watching your every move.

You glanced up at Draco, and for a fleeting second, his mask slipped. His grey eyes gleamed sharp and triumphant.

“You need to rest, love,” he said smoothly. “Would you like to lie down… or shall I have lunch brought for you?”