Disclaimer: Anything recognizable doesn't belong to me. The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

2 years after the Battle of Hogwarts

Hermione flew through the halls of St. Mungos, not noticing a person or things around her as she barreled towards her destination. She had no time for common courtesies. No time for anything to prevent her reaching room 517 as soon as possible.

You have to understand, he was out of sorts. Harry's words had barely penetrated. Was it possible? She had followed every clue, had searched for two long years. And nothing. The possibility of his survival was slim, yet she had refused to give up hope.

We had to stun him. He wasn't right Hermione.

It didn't matter. No matter his mental or physical state, she could help him. As long as he was here she could help him. Because they were the lucky ones. Death surrounded them. And in this most surprising turn of events, she was about to be reunited with the love of her life. Her husband.

That title still felt surreal to her. Maybe forging a soul bond at seventeen wasn't her wisest decision. But in the turmoil of a war with an uncertain future, she'd wanted that one thing for herself. That moment had been forever imprinted in her memory. It was a thought that brought hope. No matter what, she'd had a love that had felt so true and so real, that they had cemented their feelings in stone. So to speak. And as soul bonds were most often used in marriage ceremonies in the wizarding world, Hermione had effectively been married.

Of course there were questions. And explaining the situation to her friends… well that had been complicated. Especially when the supposed spouse was no where to be found. At least that was one thing he wouldn't have to cope with. The truth was already out about their relationship. Perhaps now they could move forward. Be a family.

She slowed as she reached the corridor for his room, blood rushing through her ears. 503, 505, 511. There. 517. She nearly ploughed over Harry and Ron in her haste. They were barring the door, waiting for her she presumed. She barely gave them a glance.

"Boys, move. Please." They hesitated, looking at each other guardedly, which only made her more impatient. They could handle the childhood rivalry later. Right now, she needed to see her husband. She needed to see if this was real.

"'Mione," Ron gently placed a hand on her arm. The softness of his voice was enough to garner her attention. Ron wasn't often the more composed of the two. Yet here he was, as unruffled and sympathetic as ever. He had been surprising her ever so much these days. He gently led her away from the door to the nearby seating area. Suddenly, Hermione feared the worst. She was too late.

"How is he?" All sorts of possibilities fluttered through her mind. She hadn't made it in time and he was gone. It was an impostor and had never really been him in the first place.

"Unconscious again. Unresponsive. Listen, Harry told me he tried to tell you, but you need to know. When we found him, he wasn't right. He was… well raving to be completely honest. I think he thought we were still in the war." Hermione closed her eyes. She could deal with this. As long as he was alive, she could deal with anything.

"We'll figure it out, Ron. One step at a time. But right now, I just need to see him. Please." Ron eyed her for a moment, before turning back to Harry and nodding. Relief flooded her. Launching from her chair, she braced herself outside his door. She pushed it open, in a haze of disbelief, unsure of what she was going to find.

And then, he was there. Draco Malfoy.

Asleep, but alive. Ashen complexion. Too thin. But alive.

She collapsed against the door frame and simply watched him. That simple inhale and exhale of his breath brought her an previously inexperienced feeling of relief.

She timidly walked forward, as if she would wake herself from a dream.

"You're alive," she said it more to herself than to him. "Draco, I don't know if you can even hear me. But if you can, I'm here, and everything is going to be alright now. You're safe. And there is so much to tell you, so much has happened…" She sucked in a breath and collapsed into the chair by his bed. Now was certainly not the time to recap the last two years. They would have time for that. A lifetime.

She grasped at his limp hand, holding it firmly in her own. It was clammy and her heart ached at the thought of the pain he may be in.

"Merlin, I missed you," she whispered, her voice cracking. Their love affair felt like a lifetime ago, and yet somehow she'd managed to miss him everyday. She felt his hand twitch and her heart surged a little. Perhaps he had heard her after all.

"Just rest now," she said softly, going to brush the blond hair from his forehead. Again, she felt the hand move. More forcefully this time. But then her hope turned to fear. Signs of distress were quickly becoming apparent. He was beginning to shake, thrashing about, muttering incoherently.

"Harry, Ron! Get a Healer, quick!" Hermione called out frantically. She would get one herself, but couldn't leave him. She wracked her brain for any spells that could be helpful in this situation, and cursed herself for not finding out more about his condition when she arrived. She'd been so insistent on seeing him, to confirm the truth for herself.

Harry burst through the door, wand drawn. Draco was beginning to convulse and his sounds of distress were getting louder. Harry moved closer and attempted to get her to stand further away.

"Ron's gone to get the Healer. They should be here in a moment." Before Harry finished his sentence, a tall middle-aged woman bustled in through the door. Without acknowledging Harry or Hermione, she began murmuring and casting spells over Draco until finally he calmed. Hermione watched with an attentive and concerned eye, training to determine the spells used.

"This is the wife, I take it?" The Meditwitch stepped back from the bedside and looked at her sympathetically. Hermione nodded and held out her hand. "Hermione Granger. Or Malfoy, I suppose. I hadn't really decided…" Hermione sighed, frustrated with herself. Of all the things to be flustered about right now! The woman shook it briskly. "Mediwitch Bones." She turned to Harry as she dropped Hermione's hand.

"I have to say, Mr. Potter, I expected a little better of you. After what you told me of Mr. Malfoy's condition, I thought you would have realized that a Healer should have been present when she arrived to see him. If simply her name could send him into a frenzy, then what do you imagine her voice did? All this with the Calming Drought too," she sternly reprimanded Harry, who looked abashed. Hermione, however, was confused. What on earth was this woman talking about?

"Now, Mrs. Malfoy nee Granger, I know you'd like to see your husband. I believe he has other living relatives as well?" Hermione nodded absently, "Good. Well, visitors are usually welcome with comatose patients. However, due to Mr. Malfoy's unique situation, we strongly recommend that a Healer be present during these visits. As you can see, his position is precarious and unstable."

"Why is he so unstable? I don't understand…" Hermione was gently being ushered from the room, and she was certain something was being held from her. "I'm not sure you understand Mediwitch Bones. Draco and I are bonded. If anything, my magic should help heal him. Provide a balance for him, the weakness he is feeling. Why on earth do I need to be chaperoned with him?"

The Mediwitch looked uncomfortably between Hermione and Harry for a moment.

"Perhaps if he were aware… but under the circumstances, there is a chance he could hurt you. Mrs. Malfoy, your husband has regained consciousness since arriving here. And he has no idea who you are."

A/N: For any readers coming from In the Shadows, thank you so much for your patience! As promised, here is the companion story. I hope you'll enjoy it 😊