I apologize for the delayed update, but the world is a little crazy right now. Love to dreamsofdramione and mcal. Please read the warning below before heading into the chapter.
Small warning. There is a very brief moment of violence toward a child in this chapter. It's not very long, but I am placing a warning for it here all the same.
The wound sealed, but she already knew it would never go away. Hermione held her arm up to the light, tilting it slowly as she took in the sight of it. Each letter had scabbed over, but she knew it would take time to heal the cursed word. Magic could only help so much.
The first time around it hadn't caused her to nearly bleed out. Draco theorised it was due to the glamour that had been cast on her for so long and she agreed. Hermione wished that she could remember who it had been, even if it was only a vague silhouette, but nothing came to her. Still, a witch or wizard had come into the home she shared with her son and continued to systematically take everything from her.
In the hours that stretched through the night, Draco whispered apologies over and over again. He told her that all this time, he'd wished it had been him to curse Bellatrix instead of Molly Weasley. Hermione slid her arms around his neck and hugged him close.
She was glad he'd never gotten the chance. There was no question of his ability to do it, she knew that, and he would have possibly spent time in Azkaban instead of ultimately finding her.
She squeezed over to make room for him and they laid side by side on the couch. He told her about his career as an Auror, his flat with Harry, and then how he'd looked for her everywhere. "In every city," Draco ran his fingers over her forearm while meeting her eyes. "Potter enabled me at first. He wanted to find you alive as much as I did, but time went on, and he eventually told me I was only hurting myself."
"You were." Hermione snuggled closer to him, careful not to reopen the wound so quickly after unwrapping it. "But I'm thankful for that, even though it must have caused you so much suffering. I always thought your behavior was strange when you first met me, but now it makes sense."
"You told me you weren't brave."
Hermione snorted. "That's all you took out of that meeting?"
"I vomited all over Potter's shoes in the forest when we left. It took everything in me not to rush back to you, but the healer had already told us how dangerous it would be to tell you anything."
She brushed strands of hair from his forehead. "But you came back for us."
"There was never a question whether I would."
Early morning light trickled into the room. Scorpius would still be asleep, but he would wake soon, and they would have to confront all that had happened together. "Tell me about being an Auror. What made you choose to sign up?"
His lips curved into a pretty smile that she'd missed so much. "Lucius wanted me to start paving a way through politics to reclaim our previous friendships, but I knew that wasn't an option for me. Potter and Weasley had already made up their mind to skip another year of Hogwarts by enlisting in the Aurors, and I knew that I wasn't strong enough to go back to Hogwarts."
"Where I'd disappeared."
"Yes, exactly. I'd never wanted to become an Auror, but I suppose, as a child, I didn't have much time—or opportunity—to imagine being anything I wanted to be. I followed those two instead. Not to mention, training lasts three years, so it left my father very little time to harass me. Not that he didn't try."
Hermione sniggered. "You and Ron, are you…?"
"We're friends." Draco nodded. "Don't ever tell him I said that because he'll never let me live it down. I let him think I only tentatively tolerate him."
"Ah, so it's just like I expected. Do you like it?"
"Being friends with Weasley? Not always."
Hermione barked a laugh, and her fingers tightened in his jumper. "No, I meant being an Auror."
He'd known that. Draco had just wanted to make her laugh and Hermione knew it, too. "Yes, I love it. Now that I've done it, I can't imagine doing anything else."
A weight settled on her chest and she sighed. "I should have told you I was pregnant."
Draco stiffened. "At the moment, I'm not sure I have the moral ground to accuse you of anything."
"Don't be ridiculous. If you'd told me anything, I probably would have lost my mind. It's hard to be angry with you for that. This is different, and you are allowed to be angry."
Raking his fingers through his hair, Draco shook his head. "It's years too late to be angry. Even when I realised you'd had my son, I wasn't angry. I have to admit though, I don't understand it."
"Well, when a mummy and daddy love each other very much—" Hermione squealed when his fingers brushed her sides.
"I don't need the talk, Granger."
"Maybe a demonstration then?" She sounded breathless and couldn't quite believe it was her voice. "Sorry, this is meant to be a serious conversation."
Draco twisted a matted curl around his finger. "On the contrary, it's nice to know that you still can't keep your hands to yourself."
He certainly wasn't wrong. "I was pregnant when I was in Malfoy Manor, when she carved into me like an animal."
His reaction was what she expected. Draco's breathing hitched, and his eyes widened as quickly as they grew dark. "What?"
That terrible laugh still rattled in her mind.
"You knew when you left, when you broke into Gringotts?"
She nodded.
"Sweet mother of fuck, what were you thinking?"
Pulling herself up, Hermione sat cross legged and stared back at him. As much as she needed to be skin to skin with him, she'd never admit everything if he was so close. "I didn't know what to think. My cycle was late. Ron and Harry were outside the tent when I performed the charm. I didn't tell either one of them. I knew if I did, none of you would ever let me out of a safehouse."
Draco looked so fucking hurt that it broke her heart. "If you had trusted me, you wouldn't have been in that courtyard."
"Don't blame me for something Bellatrix did to us."
His lower lip wobbled, and it was so clear where Scorpius had inherited his mannerisms from. Only instead of it being due to tears, it was all anger. "If you had told me, you would have never been there. You wouldn't have been tortured, Hermione. I could have kept you safe!"
"I'm sorry I lied to you," Hermione whispered. She met his gaze, even as it cut her deeply. "But if I had to go back, I'd do everything the same. I fought for the world I wanted our son to live in, the one where you could love me. Was he robbed of that chance? Absolutely, but it doesn't make my own sacrifices void. You don't need to tell me how dangerous it was for me to be tortured while—" A choke wormed its way free and she dropped her head into her hands.
"Granger—" His anger wasn't gone, but it was simmering.
"I laid on that floor for what felt like hours, Draco. I wondered if it was going to kill him before he had a chance to live. My occlumency shields were strong. The reason she discovered the truth was because she dragged that knife over my stomach—and my shirt with it—and they splintered." Her fingers shook as she tightened her hands into fists.
"You don't have to relive this. I had no right—"
"Of course you have a right. I almost killed our son," Hermione spat. "If it weren't for Dobby, we would have both died. When I chose to lie to you—and God, the guilt ate me alive—I had no idea what would happen. I wanted to be at your side until the end. Whatever end it could have been."
He closed the gap between them by crawling forward.
She reached for him, running her thumb over his cheekbone. "I can't believe you're here."
Draco's lips met hers and she pulled him to hover over her. "We shouldn't do this. You're healing." Still, he allowed her to tug his shirt over his head. He reached for the shirt he'd loaned her, sliding his hands against her bare skin.
"Did you mean what you said?"
His stare flicked to hers. "What?"
"That you loved making up with me, did you mean it?" Hermione's stomach flipped as his features softened. "Draco—"
The front door slammed open and she shoved him off of her.
Draco landed on the floor with a painful thud and rubbed the back of his head. "Whoever it is, don't come in here!"
Hermione laughed lightly. "We can finish this later."
She wore long sleeves. The moment Scorpius was through the doorway, he rushed into her arms, and she crouched down to scoop him up. "Good morning."
"Are you okay?" Hermione wasn't surprised those were the first words out of his mouth. They sat on the floor, and he reached for her again, sliding his arms around her back. "Mum?"
"Did you brush your hair before you came over here?" Hermione sorted his hair.
He rolled his eyes. "No."
"Clearly."
"Mum."
"I had an accident last night, but I'm okay. I came straight to your father and he took care of me." The truth would come out eventually, and it would be easier for him to swallow if she hadn't lied from the start. "There's no easy way to say this, Scorp, but I remember everything now."
There was a blond blur of his hair as he launched into her arms and knocked her backward. Laughing, Hermione clutched him a little tighter. "Really?" he asked in a rush. "How?"
"It's a story for another time." She kissed his forehead.
Draco lingered at the edge of the room, his hands slid into his trouser pockets, and Narcissa stood behind him.
"Draco, would you mind taking him home and getting him dressed? Maybe brush his hair while you're there?"
Scorpius argued that his pyjamas were perfectly acceptable, and his bed head was cute, but Draco caught the message. The front door clicked shut, and Hermione watched them through the window until they were long out of ear shot.
She climbed to her feet, but didn't step forward. Hermione took in the sight of Narcissa, from her pumps to the lovely dress she wore that cinched at her waist. "Mrs Malfoy, what the fuck are you doing here?" Hermione rested her hip against the edge of the sofa. "I know it's been years since I've last seen you—and that was from afar—but you'll forgive me if I have my doubts about your intentions."
"I've known about your relationship with my son for some time. Bellatrix uncovered it while you were in Malfoy Manor, but it's evident that she kept some of the… details to herself."
"Seems so."
"Had I known about your, or your son, I would have terminated Draco's engagement immediately. Understandably, he didn't tell us." Narcissa tapped her fingers against her hand, and she swallowed. "I had nothing to do with your disappearance."
Hermione glared at her. "I'm sure you would have preferred it if I had stayed missing, given your views on blood superiority. Am I right?"
"It's difficult to break views that were ingrained from a young age, but I'm in the process of unlearning them."
She raised an eyebrow. "Did that process start when you learned I was alive or before?"
"There is little to no place for prejudice in the Wizarding World, Miss Granger. You incited a fair bout of change, as did all of those on the other side. It's a terrible crime that you weren't there to see it." Narcissa drew in a breath.
Hermione sighed. "I don't trust you currently, but I do know the person you care most about is your son. You would do anything for him and I can sympathise with that."
"While I may not know who assisted my sister, I do have my own suspicions. You're in danger now, Miss Granger. There's no doubt about that. Your face has been splashed across every paper in Wizarding Britain for the past week."
Her stomach hardened, and it was the first time she felt like herself. Realistically, her last true memory was of the war, and it wasn't all that hard to slip back into her previous patterns. "You can call me Hermione. You're Scorpius' grandmother. He would find it strange if we spoke so formally."
"You may call me Narcissa then. It's my hope that one day we'll have a better relationship. If there's anything I can do…"
A smile curved on Hermione's lips. "Actually, there is one thing."
"I think you should come."
Hermione poured her tea, but didn't face him. "You've mentioned that a few times now, Draco. You're not going to change my mind."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Granger—"
"It's a media circus right now, and I don't want to put myself in the middle of it. Or Scorpius for that matter. For God's sake, we haven't even told him yet."
"I don't know why we're putting it off. He's already experienced accidental magic. He's seen my bloody Patronus."
Hermione paused, her cup halfway to her mouth. "You did what?"
Panic fluttered across his face. "There's a lot to explain still."
"I'll say." She snorted. "You're not going to be long. It'll be over before you know it."
Draco rounded the island and towered over her. His eyes pleaded with her, but she'd already come to a decision. "You have to be there to sign the paperwork to void your death certificate."
It was all overwhelming. She'd kept it together so far, but it had only been thirty-six hours since the glamour had fallen away. While she remembered everything—and had spent nearly every waking moment analysing it in explicit detail—it was difficult to separate her previous life from the one she'd lived for the past six years.
"Please don't ask me again."
"Are you okay?"
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. "I just wish everyone would stop asking me that. I'm having a hard time accepting everything. I know it's true, but it's all so confusing now."
While Scorpius played in the other room with Clara, Draco took one step to close the distance between them. "What's confusing?"
"Who I am." Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper. "My last memories of being a witch are of war. Now I'm a mum, and I can't reconcile the two people I've been."
He cupped her cheek, leaning his forehead to hers, and it was normal, even if only for a fleeting moment. "You don't have to choose one or the other. You're a brilliant witch and mum."
She nodded. "I know."
"And we don't have to do anything you don't want to do. In fact, we don't even have to live in England if you don't want to, but first, I need to find out who did this. You'll sign the paperwork whenever you're ready, and we'll go anywhere you want."
Hermione sniffled. "You're an Auror for the British Ministry."
"I can work anywhere."
"You love your job."
"No." He tilted her head up, his eyes bright. "I love you. I've gone to the end of the world and back for you. Nothing means more to me than you and our son."
"You're going to make me cry."
"I seem to do that a lot," he murmured. Dropping his head down, he pressed his lips to hers. "Is it at least a good cry this time?"
Her fingers curled into the front of his Auror uniform. "A very good cry." His lips slanted against hers. "Have I told you yet how fit you look in this uniform?"
Hermione could feel his smirk. "That's something I could work with."
Harry sent photo albums.
She sat down with them in the hours after Draco took a portkey, and Scorpius begged to go with him. "I'll be back in a few days," Draco had promised.
"What's that?" Scorpius climbed onto the bed with her. He hadn't left her side since they'd come home and Crooks followed them everywhere. "Mum?"
She was still searching for the right way to tell him the truth about magic, herself, and the fact that Draco was truly his father in every way. "An old friend sent photographs for me to look through. Would you like to see them?"
Scorpius bobbed his head and snuggled into her side. He ducked his head under her arm and Crooks curled up in his lap. "Is that you?" He pointed to a petite witch with unruly hair.
"It is. I was just a little older than you when this was taken. I was eleven." Hermione knew that there had been no photographs taken in Hogwarts. She would have figured it out for herself, but Harry had mentioned in his letter that he'd spent months sifting through his memories with an attending healer so they could be copied into the book he'd sent. And once the news had broken, he'd done the same with Ron and anyone else who'd known her.
Luckily, he didn't ask where she'd gone to school. She imagined it wouldn't be long before it was time to explain fully, but Hermione wanted to have that conversation with Draco by her side.
"This is Harry and this one is Ron." Hermione pointed them out, tilting the book for him to see. "They're my best friends."
"Why didn't they come?"
"They had their reasons." Hermione smiled. "I know it doesn't make sense right now."
"Is that Crooks?" Scorpius pointed. Sure enough, there he was, sitting at her feet in the Gryffindor common room. "How did he find us?"
Hermione's eyes watered. "Maybe it was magic."
Well, there was a legitimate answer to the question and she intended to find out.
Scorpius' eyes widened. "Magic," he repeated. "Is magic real?" The tiniest bit of fear wormed its way onto his face. "That's just a story."
Her lips quirked up into a smirk. "The stories are real and I'll tell you all about them."
"Mum, Draco can… Can you do what Draco can?" Little fingers gripped her arm.
"I can do it better. Just let me get a wand first."
It wasn't exactly the way she'd intended to broach the subject, but he didn't ask anything else. Scorpius seemed to realise the world was so much bigger than he'd ever known
In the living room, Scorpius laid on the floor with one of the albums flipped open in front of him. Hermione could see him from the kitchen as he flipped the page. In the three days since Draco had returned to the Ministry, Scorpius had constantly poured over images of memories that felt like they didn't truly belong to her.
She hadn't returned to work. Hermione didn't imagine she would ever return to the quiet bookshop where she'd shared most of her days with Victoire. She knew that eventually she would want to return with Draco, even if she hadn't told him. Their son would get his letter, and she couldn't entertain the thought of sending him to any school other than Hogwarts.
Certainly not Durmstrang.
It would be something to discuss with Draco when he returned tomorrow.
"Mum, did you go to school with Dad?"
Hermione cursed under her breath, but as she started to admit that yes, she had, her blood ran cold. She glanced around, her hand inching toward the knife block. "Scorpius, get in here now." She rushed from the kitchen before he'd even been able to climb to his feet.
"Mum?" His eyes dropped to the large knife in her hand. "What's going on?"
The wards shifted, and she looked to the windows as if she were going to see someone. "Stay behind me." They dropped completely and Hermione could feel them as they fell away. She'd always felt it, but due to the curse, she'd never been able to recognise them for what they were.
Until now.
Two men entered through the front door, and her fingers tightened around the handle. Quicker than she could follow, one Apparated behind her, and locked his arms around her.
She struggled.
She managed to cut his forearms, but he struck her across the face, and the knife tumbled from her grip.
Hot air fanned over her neck as he twisted her wrist, and threw her to the floor.
The back of her skull cracked on impact.
His partner grabbed Scorpius by his hair, threading his fingers through the strands as he ripped him upward.
Hermione drove her fist between his ribs and brought her knee up swiftly so it landed against his groin. "Stay away from my son. I'll fucking kill you," she growled and spit in his face.
"Confundus." A hand caressed the side of her face.
Scorpius screamed for her, but she couldn't move.
She needed to move, but he'd petrified her.
Hermione knew to be scared. She didn't have a wand, and even if she did, she wasn't sure magic would come so easily to her yet.
"Don't worry about him." The man holding Scorpius laughed. "He'll be with family. They're kind enough to take in a halfblood. Even with a muggleborn mother."
Scorpius' scream split the air. As confused as she was, Hermione watched books fly off the shelves. They pelted the man hovering over her, and his weight disappeared as two cracks signalled their escape.
"Scorpius?"
He dropped to his knees beside her, sobbing openly as he buried his face in her chest. "Mummy. They'll come back."
A vicious crack vibrated the air, and she felt the floorboards below her move with the rest of the foundation. "Daddy, please, you have to help."
Arms slid under her back and she could just make out the shape of him as his head blocked out the light over them.
"Did you Apparate from England?" she wheezed.
Voices filled the air. "Who are they?" Scorpius whispered.
"The cavalry," Draco muttered.
These really, truly, aren't really cliff hangers to me, but I feel you may see it differently. Thank you for being so patient with me! Just a few more chapters, and a tiny reminder that this story was always about Draco and Hermione falling in love, and regaining memories, not an action packed story of finding who hurt them. (Though it is a bit of both.)
Let me know what you thought here, or in a message, or on tumblr at mrsren96!
