Hey Guys! Another one of my DMHG oneshot! This is a really really sad story, and I hope you Fan Fiction Readers would enjoy it as much as I do!

I solemnly swear these characters are not mine.

No one had thought this would happen. No one ever did, but it happened anyway. Even till this day, people still have trouble believing Hermione Granger, the pride and joy of the Wizarding World, the very same smart witch that stepped into Hogwarts ten years ago, was nowhere better than an idiot.

It stung them all, this news. Smartest witch of the year, school prefect, Head Girl... And now, merely reduced to a woman with no intelligence, no memory. People wept and cried, others sent their sympathy, while the rest show traces of remorse. But it was no use. Nothing could be done, to revive the sweet brave girl that everyone loved.

The war ended, but many paid a heavy price. It was a victory only in name, but those who stood by the light side suffered. Hermione was one of them. She had finally succumb to the many curses shot towards her during the last battle a year ago, which left her in a coma. And when she finally woke, they found her mind in a blank. That was when the wailing start.

No one knew what to do with her. She had no kin or family left to take care of her, nor home to call. Should they let her live, or let her misery end and let her go? Not a single person had an answer, and so she remained in St Mungo's. Until one week later, someone finally checked her out of the hospital.

Draco Malfoy.

The public didn't understand why, and knew nothing about the reason behind it. They were puzzled to why the rich, cold Draco Malfoy would bring his ex-enemy Hermione Granger back with him. Sure, he was reformed, but everyone knew the bitterness between them when they were in school, the rivalry that seemed unending. It just didn't make sense to the rest of the world.

Draco didn't care what the rest of the world thought, and he didn't bother to correct them. All he wanted was to take Hermione with him. He forgave them all for the wild theories they created, he forgave them for their ignorance. After all, they didn't know the truth.

How could they have known? How could they? They never knew about the secret passion he harboured for her. They never knew how much he loved her. They never knew how much he cared, and that he had protected her for five years. They never knew what she meant to him, and worst, neither did she. Until the day before the last battle.

He was worried for her. Draco knew Hermione would risk it all, her life, her everything, to help win this battle. He was prepared to do the same too. But he couldn't bear to let her go, to die, without knowing that someone loved her. To know that someone will always behind her, guarding her, just like he had done silently all these years.

So he told Hermione he loved her, the very night before the last battle. It didn't matter whether she return his affections, because Draco thought he would die anyway. He didn't fear death. But then she said the exact words back to him. That she loved him too.

That was when he felt afraid. Afraid that he would die. Afraid that he would never see her again.

That night, they kissed. They hugged each other. Neither one of them left each other's side. They didn't have a single moment to lose. They only had hours, just hours left, before they were left on their own again to fend for themselves. They already thrown away so many years of opportunity to be together, they couldn't waste anymore time. They couldn't afford to lose it. It could be the last time they see each other again.

And as the rest of the world went into panic and fear that night, the two of them stayed together, hands entwined, trying to enjoy the last of the very beautiful moonlight.

The next day came too soon for either of them, but they knew they had to leave. Both of them had a duty to do, a role to play. They had to go on, and fight for their lives.

Draco made her promise she won't leave him. That she won't die. He was now so afraid, so very scared, for her. Hermione promised she won't, and that both of them will come back alive. She told him that they would stay together forever, get married and grow old with each other once the war was over. And he believed her.

" Promise?" He had asked, his voice mixed with both hope, fear, and insecurity.

"Yes, I promise. And I love you." She replied, kissing him one last time on the lips, and they both part to battle.

She fought bravely. They both did. Draco and Hermione gave their all, and fought with every dark wizard in the battle. And then... It was all over. Voldemort was gone.

Draco was beyond happiness. He could hear everyone in the Order shouting with glee and triumph, and he himself couldn't resist a smile. Finally he and Hermione could be together. They would with each other. And so he went in search of her, hoping to share this wonderful moment with her. But it never came.

He found her lying in the middle of the battleground, bleeding badly. She was unconscious.

She had kept her promise ironically. She was still alive. But now, Hermione had lost her memory, her past, and she didn't know anything anymore. She had left him spiritually. Draco was appalled by the turn of events, and how something as undeserving as this could happen to someone so pure and beautiful as her.

The Healers told him there was no chance that Hermione would recover. Her memory was wiped away from her forever. Nothing in the world he could do that would change that.

He didn't care what they say. It didn't matter how much the Healers tried to persuade him to let go of her. He insisted on taking her away, away from this place. Hermione wouldn't want to die, or to live in the hospital forever.

They asked her where he was taking her. Hermione didn't have a house of her own anymore. She had nowhere to live. And then Draco said,

" Home."

And he took her home. To his house. This, would be her home from now on. Their home.

He kept his promise to her. They lived together, stayed together, and he finally married her. She was now Mrs Draco Malfoy.

He spent all his time taking care of her, his poor, dazed Hermione. She had no recollection of she was, or what she can do. So Draco taught her all, one by one. How to eat, to read, to write. She usually forgot all by the next day, but he would patiently help her learn again and again. It hurt him to see Hermione end up like this. His lovely, smart Hermione, now in such a sorry condition.

Sometimes it seems as if her mind was not a total blank. She still marvel at the sight of books, although she could not read them. She was impressed by the usage of large voabulary, and often demand Draco to teach them. At times, she seem to be able to remember some of the things that Draco taught her. He delighted in this, and was convinced she was not totally dull.

He devoted all his time to be with her, It didn't matter that she no longer remembered him or what happened. The fact is, he still loved her. It didn't matter that Hermione had not recognised him or loved him, Draco will still love her anyway. And as long as he did, he would take care of her.

She was his wife.

Apart from the fact that she had lost her memory, nothing else about her changed. Her hair was still brown and thick, she was still as graceful and sprightly, and her smile still dazzled like before. Yes, her dazzling smile never fail to brighten Draco's day, even before and more so now.

" Mrs Malfoy." He called, searching for her in the house one day. He found her sitting by the living room window, gazing outside.

" Mr Malfoy." She replied, not glancing at him.

" Hermione."

" Draco."

" My wife."

This got her. Hermione's lip twisted into a smile. The same bright, dazzling smile as before. The one he often liked to admire, and make him forget his troubles. Her mind was as feeble as before, but she was still Hermione.

Life was far from perfect, and this was certainly not the person the old Hermione ever imagined she would be. None of them thought this would happen. Hermione no longer had a memory, or knew how much Draco love her.

He regretted not telling her earlier. She only knew how much he love her for a few hours. And after that, it was wiped out from her memory. They only truly realised how much they care for each other for a night. He wished that he had told her sooner. They would be able to spend more time together. Now... she was gone.

If Draco had wanted to change anything that happened in the past, he wished he had told Hermione that he loved her sooner. Even if it was just one day more. Just one day would make a difference to their lives. Just one day would give him more time with her. Just one day.

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