Chapter 2
Ron.
She woke up once again at the mention of his name. He’d died six years ago?
Six. Bloody. Years. And she couldn’t even remember it? What had happened to him? why him? Just why…
When she opened her eyes, she was semi aware of that fact that she was once again, not alone. It felt suffocating. She really couldn’t be alone with her thoughts - not really.
It was just as a shock the first time when she saw Malfoy right there beside her. He looked directly at her, his eyes once again, swarming with concern. She blinked and looked away. Hermione was anything but shy and she had decided rather spontaneously that she was going to figure out Malfoy’s deal.
She played with her fingers.
“ Malfoy, I understand that you seem rather upset right now, with me. I… I don’t remember you — apart from our Hogwarts day, so I’m assuming it’s safe to say that you’re no longer a raging bloodpurist.”
She let out a nervous chuckle (like joking with Draco Lucius Malfoy of all people was just a normal occurrence) “ I just, I really just have some questions that I would like for you to answer. Would you be able to do that for me?”
She was half convinced that Malfoy would’ve just left the room and said something awful just to spite her but she was once again surprised.
“Anything you want Mione.”
That nickname, Hermione was sure that she’d only allowed her friends to call her that. Malfoy was not her friend, in fact, he was her husband.
Such an intimate word. Hermione was a romantic at heart, and she like many young girls, had dreamed of her perfect wedding — her perfect husband. She had longed for that magical love story. Walking down the aisle with her father. It was quite a traditional image, very muggle rooted but she liked that. The simplicity of it.
She looked back at Malfoy.
She wondered what it was about him that had attracted her to him. His looks? Malfoy had always looked handsome but his bullying ways had always put Hermione right off. She valued kindness and courage and Malfoy had told displayed numerous times that he was in fact neither of those things.
His personality? (don’t make me laugh). He’d always seemed so bland and boring. He was the complete opposite of what Hermione would’ve wished for in a husband. Or was it, his money? Merlin. Maybe she was a broke loser and had decided that she’d had enough and that’s why she was with Malfoy of all people.
She did have to think about all angles here. It could’ve been anything. Especially when it came settling down with Draco Malfoy.
She realised that she had been stuck in her mind once again. She looked up at Malfoy once again.
”Okay, first of all, are you really my husband?” It seemed like such a silly thing to ask but she wanted to have some sort of clarity.
There was a ghost of a smile on Malfoy’s face, “ Yes”.
Right, so her and Malfoy were a thing. That was just so lovely to know.
” What happened with the war? How did we meet? Are my friends okay? How long have been married?”
Malfoy has signalled for her to stop. Hermione flushed slightly, but once she started it was very hard for her to just pipe down again.
“ We won the war Hermione, the death eaters that is.”
He noticed the grimace on Hermione’s face, “ it’s not like that. It’s hard to explain, but you and I, we killed Voldemort. Together. Most of your friends… didn’t survive… because by the time we had made our plan, the Order had been completely destroyed.
It’s more complicated than that, but that’s what took place. We, we’ve been married for six years.”
Hermione felt a myriad of emotions. The war had ended but not in the way she had envisioned. Her friends were gone and Malfoy and her had been married for six years. Six. Hermione wasn’t sure what she should do, but she knew that her brain was just searching for answers.
” Will you show me them, my memories that is?”
At this point, she didn’t know what else to do, the reality of the matter was that Draco Malfoy was her husband, whether she liked it or not. And seemingly was her unexpected ally.
Malfoy got up from his chair and loomed over her. He gently bent forward and hesitantly placed his palm on her cheek, closing his eyes,
“Hermione, there is nothing and I mean nothing I wouldn’t do for you in this world. I would set myself on fire for you. The way I yearn for you—,” he took a shaky breath,
“you came even imagine how I’ve felt, the past few months. I—“
Maybe Malfoy felt like he was rambling, or her silence but something compelled Malfoy to stop speaking. He opened his eyes and step away from her — almost like it pained for him to move away.
”Your doctor said that we should wait for a while, until you’ve become more adjusted to well, your present life.” With me. Silently, hung in the air.
Hermione blinked, had pigs began to fly or had Malfoy just given her a heartfelt speech? One full of passion, of love. And she hated to admit it, it had shortened her breath, and caused butterflies in her stomach. She hadn’t felt this way since Ron.
Ron. The butterflies died rather quickly after that. She didn’t want to think about him yet. She hadn’t processed her grief yet and she doubted that she would ever be ready for that conversation.
Was this okay, could she be thinking of another man, whilst the last thing she remembered was a boy that she was willing to die for? It plagued her conscious.
It was after that, that Hermione suddenly realised who she was in the room with. Malfoy was still a stranger to her. And it didn’t seem like she was going to get a proper answer anytime soon. Her friends were dead. Most of them were dead and her response had been to get married to a death eater? Her heart weighed heavy with guilt.
What had happened to her?
She couldn’t even understand herself. She couldn’t even understand the predicament she was in.
She didn’t want to talk to Malfoy after that. She shut down completely, telling him she didn’t want to see him, and that she wanted to see Harry again. Her one true friend. The only person she trusted. She laid down and shifted herself away from Malfoy’s gaze. If he felt angry, he didn’t say it.
She knew she was being cruel. That from his perspective, his wife of six years, had suffered and he’d probably worried sick for her, not leaving her side — just for her not to even remember. It was sick twist of fate. That by saying she wanted Harry Potter there and not him, showed that his own wife did not want him there. That she simply didn’t trust him.
She wanted to apologise to Draco. That she was sorry that she couldn’t remember, that she probably loved him, that she did notice the hurt expression on his face ever time she pushed him away. She thought she should’ve comforted him. But her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her.
She thought perhaps that was selfish of her. Malfoy was hurt too and probably more than her because unlike Hermione he remembered.
She allowed herself to succumb to the darkness, reassuring herself that she would speak to him tomorrow, her last thought being those piercing, silver eyes, that seemed to hold so much care for her.