It had been a month since my accident and I was still confined to the Manor. I didn't want to be there. Despite living there my whole childhood, it felt unfamiliar. My father assured me it was just because Astoria and I had bought our own home and I hadn't lived in the Manor for over a year. The healer had also explained that most things were going to feel or appear different to me until my brain relearned the people in my life and my surroundings.
The biggest mystery of all was how I'd managed to have a flying accident. I'd been flying my whole life, and I'd never even fallen from my broom during a Quidditch match or Auror mission. How had I managed to crash my broom on the Manor grounds? There had to be more to it.
And then there was Astoria.
My thoughts about her were the most disjointed. I remembered the arranged marriage. I knew I had felt ambivalent about it, but somehow resigned and determined to make it work. I could almost sense a longing for someone else, but their face never came to mind. Sometimes, when I thought about my wife, the most jarring sense of loss and annoyance would hit me. Other times, I felt an all-consuming love for her. It was soul-deep and unshakable. The two feelings were so at odds with each other that I didn't really know what to make of it.
The strongest happy memory of Astoria I could muster was the night she told me she was pregnant. I saw myself, clearly elated, wrapping her in my arms and snogging her senseless before leading her to bed to celebrate. I didn't remember arousal, but I clearly felt excitement and love. In the memories from our honeymoon, I didn't feel love, but I definitely felt arousal. It seemed like my brain was full of contradictions.
I looked over at my wife; she hadn't left my side since I'd woken, and I was very grateful for that. She always made sure I had everything I needed and was comfortable. She tried to help me remember things, but nothing seemed to stick. No matter what anyone did, I couldn't access most of my memories from the past few years; it felt like there were gaping holes in my mind.
Noticing my gaze, Astoria smiled at me warmly. "How are you feeling, darling?" she asked, and I bristled, though I wasn't sure why.
"I'm okay. I think I'd like to get up and go for a walk. The healer said I need to start moving around more. Maybe if I walk back towards my old room, I'll remember something else," I replied.
Astoria looked hesitant for a moment — only a split second — but it was long enough for me to notice. After that, she stood and made her way over to me, taking my hand and steadying me when I stood. I was worried about hurting her; she'd always been so fragile when we were younger. I could remember Daphne fussing over her and making sure she didn't overexert herself. I hoped a walk down the winding hallway of the Manor wouldn't be too taxing on her in her delicate condition.
"Okay, Draco, do you feel like I can let go?"
I nodded and took a few steps. Minus the tightness in my underutilized muscles, I felt completely fine for the first time in a month. I quickened my pace and headed for the door, leaving Astoria in my wake. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw her walking slowly, one hand gently resting on her distended abdomen. Her face showed a myriad of emotions — anxiety, happiness, a bit of hope — and I wondered why she was so conflicted all the time.
I felt something close to a crack in my heart — love, tinged with a bit of panic at my impending fatherhood, maybe — and I waited for her. She was my wife and the mother of my child. She was who I had in my life, and I must have been happy before the accident. I could feel it in some memories of her, even if it was completely lacking in others. Realistically, there was no way you could love your spouse every minute of every day, right?
I didn't know why, but I felt like I could do that, like I had done that.
I thought about the way my father treated my mother, and I'd always intended to be the same kind of husband. Doting. Devoted. Open with my wife about everything, and that was clearly not how things had been between us.
Where had that unquestionable love gone? Had something happened between us? Why did Astoria feel somewhat foreign to me?
Had I never treated her properly?
I waited for her and rested my hand over hers, gently rubbing the spot where our child grew. She looked up at me, surprised.
"What?" I asked. "I'm sure I've done this a hundred times before. I was so excited when you told me about the baby. I felt it."
Her blue eyes clouded for a moment and she looked away. Again, I noticed her hesitation. "Of course you have. You just haven't done it since you've woken up. I was surprised."
Her reaction was unusual, but I accepted it. Everything felt strange, so I was beginning to think that maybe it was just a figment of my imagination. Maybe everything would feel off for a while.
We meandered through the Manor, stopping every so often for me to examine something. When we arrived at my childhood bedroom, it felt more familiar than anything else had. I walked around, looking at all of the items on my built-in bookshelves. I saw photos from Hogwarts — Pansy and I together at the Yule Ball, Blaise and I flying in spirals on our broomsticks, my parents and I after we'd all survived the Battle of Hogwarts.
I read over the titles of the books I'd kept there, and I found a few that didn't make any sense. Lord of the Rings. Crime and Punishment. The DaVinci Code .
"Astoria, these books… Where did they come from?" I asked, unable to remember ever reading them.
She looked over the titles, just as hesitant to reply as she had been before, and answered, "I'm not sure. Maybe they're the Muggle books that Hermione Granger always gives out as gifts at Christmas. You've worked with her for years and she's always trying to get you to read new things."
Granger ? Had I been friends with her? Or did we just work together?
"Are we friends?" I questioned, needing to know the answer.
My heart was racing at the thought. After everything in our past, surely she'd never give me the time of day.
She looked at me and took a deep breath. "You had a working relationship, from what I understand. She gave books to a lot of people in the DMLE. I don't know how friendly you were overall. I don't think you saw her outside of the office."
Interesting. Maybe I'd made amends since I worked with her and Potter, but I didn't think we'd have been friendly enough to exchange holiday gifts… I tried to imagine what I'd given Granger for Christmas. Maybe some obscure magical books or new quills or a bottle of expensive wine. Those were all things that came to mind when I thought of her — the books and quills were obvious, but the wine would be to help her relax. I was sure she was married to her job.
"Astoria, is she married to Weasley? I can't remember."
She shook her head. "No, they split pretty soon after the war. He married Luna Lovegood a few years back."
I nodded, trying to picture Granger at work. I saw her in a red dress, standing tall next to her office door and smiling while we chatted. Her hair was tamed into a knot at the base of her skull.
"I can't remember anything about her really… I can see myself talking to her at one point or another. We must have been somewhat friendly. There were no hexes being thrown," I mused. "Maybe I'll try to read these when I'm feeling a bit more focused."
"I'll ask your father to send them to our house. He's been planning on going through all of the things in here, anyway. He says it's time to pack up your childhood since you're twenty-five now," Astoria said with a warm smile.
I nodded and continued moving around the room, finding some out-of-place Muggle clothing and shoes. I knew it was Muggle from interacting with the Muggle-born students at Hogwarts; their attire was always so… casual. When I looked at Astoria questioningly again, she simply said, "They're for when you have to go into Muggle areas for work."
"But why are they here and not at our house?" I asked. "We don't live here. Why would I keep work clothing here?"
"I'm not sure," she replied. "Maybe they're old? You were working in the DMLE before we got married. You have some at home, as well."
I felt like I was ending up with more questions than answers at this point, so I resolved to stop searching for anything that could jog my memory for the time being. The healer had told me not to force it, to let things come back naturally. He explained I may never get everything back, and that was something I'd have to accept over time. Sighing, I took Astoria's hand again.
"Let's get out of here. Looking at all of this stuff is just confusing me more," I stated.
She led me out and stroked her thumb over the back of my hand.
"Draco, I'm here for you," she began. "I'll answer whatever questions you have. We'll get through this together. I promise."
However, I couldn't help but remember how hesitant she'd been when I'd asked questions or how my touch had surprised her. I wasn't certain she'd be the one to give me the answers I needed.
A few days later, Astoria was seeing her healer for a baby check-up, so my mother and father were sitting with me. My mother was prattling on about baby clothes and nursery decorations and my father looked as bored as I felt. As excited as I was to have a child, I didn't relish preparing a room or waxing poetic of the merits of blue versus green. Of course, my parents were assuming the child was an heir, a male, because no females had been born into the Malfoy line in centuries.
"Narcissa," my father interrupted. "I think you're forgetting that you're not sitting with Astoria right now. Draco and I don't care whether you paint the walls of the nursery grey or blue or green. We just want the baby to arrive safely so they can sleep in that room. Right?"
"Of course, Father," I answered automatically. "Astoria can be so fragile. I'm praying the delivery goes smoothly."
Both of my parents nodded. My mother pursed her lips, seemingly lost for words. "I was wondering, Draco, is your memory getting any clearer?"
I was frustrated with this question. I'd been asked so many times already, and I felt like I was letting everyone down by not remembering anything new. I searched my brain, trying to think of any detail I'd remembered and could discuss with them. When my mind landed on the Muggle items in my room, I figured that would be a safe bet.
"Well, Astoria and I walked down to my old bedroom the other day and I found some unusual things in there," I commented.
My father raised an eyebrow, gesturing for me to continue. "Muggle books and clothing. Astoria told me that they're from work. The books were likely gifts from Hermione Granger. Apparently we work together and she likes to give them out to purebloods at Christmas."
My mother looked paler than usual and my father appeared to be holding his breath, so I kept talking. "I guess the Muggle clothing was for when I had to be in Muggle areas. Who knew I could blend in so well?"
The joke fell flat, my parents both looking uncomfortable.
"Well, you won't have to worry about that anymore, Draco," my father responded. "I don't think you'll be able to return to your former position with an injury of this nature. No more chasing down dark wizards with Potter or late nights in the office. You'll have to settle for being a proper pureblood heir now."
I looked at him, confused. "Why couldn't I return to it, Father? From what I remember, I loved my job and I'm having no issue making new memories. I remember the majority of my training. I know I have to recuperate for awhile, but—"
"You're going to be a father, Draco," my mother said. "You will not go back to that dangerous line of work with all of those Gryffindor idiots!"
"Blaise works with me. He's not a Gryffindor idiot," I pointed out.
My father glared at me. "No, you talked him into joining with you. You don't need to be on Potter's hero squad, Draco. You need to spend time with Astoria and the baby. Take some time off and think about it before you make a rash decision. You've been in some close calls since joining the Auror office."
"We'll see," I conceded. "I was planning on taking a few months off after the baby is born. Who knows if I'll even be fully recovered when he or she is born."
They seemed appeased, so I told them I was tired. I wanted them to leave the room; I couldn't deal with their forceful personalities or opinions at the moment. My head was aching, my brain trying to make connections that just didn't seem to be there anymore. More than anything, I wanted to know why I seemed to remember most of my day-to-day life, but there were some parts with huge gaps. It didn't seem to follow any sort of rhyme or reason, and analyzing it didn't help much.
Once I was alone, I stood up and walked around the room, trying to regain some of the strength and stamina I'd lost from weeks in bed while my brain was still a bit swollen. In the beginning, I'd been prone to dizzy spells and I'd fallen a fair few times before I had been relegated to the bed. Now, I could walk around on my own without endangering my recovery, though I hadn't yet tried to navigate stairs.
I thought back to the Muggle books and clothing. They'd certainly evoked a strange response from my parents, like they hadn't known I was friends with Granger. Surely they must have — Astoria knew, and I was sure my father had been the type to keep tabs on me at work. He had to have known I was interacting with Hermione. It was definitely something to continue considering over time. Maybe I'd try to work the Muggle books into another conversation down the line.
When Astoria got home an hour later, she was smiling widely, both hands pressed against her abdomen. "Draco! The healer said everything is progressing wonderfully. They're still offering to tell us the gender, but I didn't want to find out without you. Do you want to know? Or would you rather be surprised?"
I considered her words for a moment. A whisper of a thought, something I was sure I'd said before, played through my mind. If I was ever having a child, I'd want to be surprised. There aren't very many surprises in adult life, I'd said. I wondered if Astoria had forgotten this conversation, or if I'd had it with someone else. I couldn't imagine openly discussing pregnancy and childbearing with anyone else, but the thought was there.
"I think I want to be surprised, Stori," I replied, sticking with that thought. "I mean, how many more big surprises will we get in this life?"
Author's Note: Poor Draco. He's so confused and wants to figure everything out.
We're going to check in with Hermione next week, and we'll see a tiny glimpse of past Dramione. Just a warning, the angst/triggers I have tagged are going to be pretty heavy in the early Hermione chapters. She's kind of a mess.
One other thing I don't think I've mentioned... there will be no pattern to who's narrating. We will mainly see Hermione and Draco with the occasional Astoria and one other person... who will make an appearance in Chapter 5.
As always, leave me your thoughts or feel free to reach out!