Disclaimer: Of course, these lovely characters do not belong to me. I do borrow them for my idea.

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It's not your fault

April 2005

He could feel the wards change when she entered, and he was almost certain that it was her. As a frequent visitor of his mother's, he was getting used to her magical signature crossing the wards of the Manor. Unfortunately, for both of them, his mother wasn't home. It was early evening, and she was making an appearance at some spring or easter event that was meant simply to see and be seen. The kind of event he hated and did not want to attend, even though most of his friends were in attendance. By now there was more talk about his two failed engagements than about his father's failures and he had no intention of listening to purebloods talk self-righteously.

Leaving his books behind, he barely made it out of the library before he could hear her voice calling for his mother. An odd feeling settled in his stomach, only growing into real concern when he felt the activation of her pendant. She only grabbed that thing, when she was desperate that much he had learned. He tried to tell himself that he didn't care, but his feet still picked up speed as he was heading to the entrance hall with the fireplace, they used for floo connections. She must have heard his steps because she spoke before he became visible to her.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, Ron and I had another fight, and I didn't know where to go and I just need…" she trailed off when she saw him instead of his mother. "Oh…"

She tried to keep the hiccupped sob in that followed her words but didn't catch it in time. He stood frozen at the door taking in her sight. Her hair was in a messy bun, her cloth appeared to be for her home alone, a pair of stained joggers and an old maroon sweater, ugly enough it probably came from the Weasleys. Didn't their mother knit? What concerned him more were her swollen eyes and reddened cheeks and nose. She clearly had been crying for a while now.

But this was not his expertise. She was his mother's friend and clearly whatever was happening took the soothing of a woman. He watched as she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold.

"Mother isn't here. One of her events, you know the season is starting up." He wasn't sure if she knew that. The season was most likely not something she concerned herself with.

"Oh." Her gaze went to the floor, but not before he could see a few tears silently trailing down her cheeks. She stood there, frozen like him, looking utterly lost. They remained silent, while she seemed to sort through her thoughts, only for more sobs and tears to escape. Maybe going to the event wouldn't have been the worst choice for tonight.

He made a step forward, not sure what he would do when he reached her. She didn't seem to notice his movement, as she was busy fingering her wedding band. When he stood next to her, she finally looked up. It took a moment but then she took a step back, almost aggressively wiping the tears off her face with her sleeve.

"Right. I didn't mean to disturb you. I should be leaving." She stumbled towards the fireplace. He noticed the shake in her hands when she reached for the powder but didn't move until she knocked the pot to the ground on accident. She stared at the mess on the floor just long enough to file it away in the hysteric's folder in her mind before she sank to the ground and tried to collect and mend the broken ceramic – the muggle way. She let out a small cry, as her fingers wiped across one of her sharp shreds and he could see the blood collecting.

"Granger, stop." She had mindlessly started to continue wiping the floo powder together, mixing it with her blood.

"Hermione." He was suddenly kneeling in front of her. His hands on her shoulders giving her a soft shake, as to return her to reality. He had her attention at the use of her first name, but that didn't solve the problem. His mother would rush back to the Manor if he alerted her, but this might not be the best time to make everyone aware there was a family emergency. He sighed, before pulling the witch back to a standing position with him, just for her knees to buckle the moment he let go. Draco caught her and resolved to carry her. He didn't realize he was on his way back to the library before he was halfway there. The drawing room or literally any other room would have been closer, but as he felt her relax against him as they entered the library, he knew his instincts were right. He settled her on the couch, summoning a small blanket to cover her. Next, his attention was on her still bleeding hand.

"I'm sure you know this, but it will hurt for the cleanse." He washed the powder of her hands and wound with a spell, before applying the simple household healing spells he had learned years ago. When her hands were healed, she tugged them away under the blanket, pulling up her legs and hugging them tightly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, before calling for Roks and quietly instructing him to clean the mess, replace the floo powder and bring whatever tea Hermione usually preferred as well with some potions he might coax her to drink later. When the elf was gone, he found himself looking back at the shell of what used to be known as Hermione Granger, or Granger-Weasley as she forced everyone to call her. His hand reached for a few stray curls that had fallen into her face, surprising them both as he pushed them behind her ear.

"What happened to you?" His usual edge was missing. This was clearly not the time to be rude to her. He could do that when she was in a better mood, fighting back.

"Just look, I know you can still do it." Her voice was quiet enough that he wasn't sure if he had actually heard her. "I heard you comment on the Weasleys breeding genes last fall."

"Shite." She just shrugged; it didn't seem to matter to her at this point. He pushed his paperwork on the coffee table to the side, so he could sit on it to focus.

Her mind was as chaotic as her appearance, but she seemed to try and guide him towards certain events. First, he found himself in the fight about infertility he had already watched.

"I know this one." He could sense a huff but was thrown into memories of adoption conversations as well as a healer's appointment talking about problems with magical traces, just to end up in a new fight. He felt a strange sense of relief that he seemed to be as much of an issue in her marriage as she had been in his first engagement. At least it hadn't just been him. It also occurred to him that this proofed Watkos point. He would have to think this through later though.

What followed were memories of her staying at the Potters. He could feel the immense relief she had felt upon her arrival, just to find the painful guilt replacing that feeling more and more. Finally, she had returned to Weasley.

He seemed to be more attentive to her now, but the baby question still came up a lot. She then threw him into a memory of filing adoption papers.

"That's really difficult, there are rarely children." There was another huff in response. And then he was thrown into another memory. They seemed to be in some kind of healer's office, but he didn't recognize a lot of the tools he saw.

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley, your husband is not joining us today?" A healer entered, only that he didn't quite look like a healer, and immediately started working on his machine on the desk.

"Doctor Wellborn, I'm afraid he couldn't get away from work." So, she was seeing a muggle healer. That cleared up a lot of his confusion. He watched as the doctor seemed to collect information in his machine. Feeling Granger's anxiety levels rise with every passing moment. He almost yelled at the muggle healer, when he realized that wouldn't do anything but amuse her.

"Well, I was actually quite nervous about our appointment, but the newest bloodwork added new information that will make this easier." He smiled at her.

"Get to the point."

"You are not very patient." She actually glared at the doctor, leaving a small smirk on Dracos lips.

"Well, I do have to tell you that our results agree with what you have told us about the suspicions your alternative medicine consultant has told you." He made another pause for effect, studying his machine. "It appears that individually there is a good chance of having children, but as we combine the abnormalities of each of you, they seem to make it nearly impossible for you to conceive and hold a pregnancy."

He could feel the emotional sting.

"What abnormalities are there?"

"Well, it appears to be quite the complicated diagnosis and I had already alerted a friend of mind, specialized in these things. However, he won't be able to perform any tests on you in the next few months now."

"I understand, specialists are quite hard to come by."

"That wouldn't be the problem. We simply can't perform the test, while you are pregnant." He gave her a smile. "The results of your bloodwork came back with a rise on every indicator for pregnancy. Congratulations."

Draco stared at the doctor just like she did.

"Now, from what we have learned in our tests I do advise you to work closely with our office to monitor the pregnancy. You are a high-risk patient, and we will want to do everything in our power to get both of you through this as safely and healthy as possible."

"So you are pregnant?"

He didn't get a response. She simply switched the memory on him. They appeared to be in her flat, at least he seemed to recognize it from the fight memories. There were flowers and candles, and he could even catch the smell of food she must have prepared. But as the memory continued there was a Patronus telling her that Ron was caught up at work. He watched her spell the food to stay warm before she settled on her couch and blacking him out as she fell asleep.

When she woke back up there was a dramatic change in her feelings. She was in pain. Severe pain. Clutching instinctively to her stomach. His breathing sped up just like hers and eventually, there was blood on her hands. Everything became blurry in this memory now. Tears and pain and blood and more tears.

Draco pulled out of her memories taking a sharp breath. He caught her eyes, just for her to look away. She still had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. His hand was back at her cheek before he could stop himself. He carefully wiped the tears away, but they were simply replaced with new ones.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't respond, there were just more tears. So, he sat there, caressing her cheek in an awkward attempt to soothe her.

"Was this last night?"

She shook her head ever so slightly. He didn't coax her for an answer. It didn't really matter.

"Last week." Her voice almost broke. He felt the unexpected urge to pull her into his arms and hold her as close as he could, but he didn't allow his body to react to it.

"Master, Roks has Mistress tea and soup."

"I didn't order soup." He glanced over at the elf.

"Mistress likes soup, so Roks thought it might cheer her up."

Draco gave him an odd look, before levitating another small table over and putting tea and soup there. Roks added the requested potions, before giving Hermione a concerned look. That elf was just as smitten by the witch as his mother. He lingered, but finally left when he didn't receive new orders.

"Can you sit up far enough to drink some of this?"

She seemed to contemplate his request but didn't move. He regarded her for a moment before he had a straw appear, which did not fit the fancy teacup. He put it in any way, and offered the other end to her mouth, after murmuring a spell to adjust the temperature of the tea, so she wouldn't burn her mouth. To his surprise, she took a few sips without arguing. Another sign of her bad shape.

When she didn't seem to want more, he put the cup away.

"Soup?"

She laughed at that, but it didn't reach her eyes and died down as suddenly as it had come.

"You mentioned a fight."

"I wasn't done when you pulled out."

He nodded, taking that as his permission to be back in her memories. Although part of him didn't want to go back to that painful moment. He was back at their flat. Ron was there this time and her pain was mixed with unbelievable tension.

"All I'm asking is to take a few months off." Her voice sounded as tired as it had in the presents.

"But why stop trying, if our chances are so slim? I mean it's still a fun activity, isn't it?" His smirk and wiggling eyebrows were meant to cheer her up, but of course, he only knew half of her reasoning.

"Because I need a break." It broke out of her, and she closed her eyes, right after she said it to block out Ron's reaction.

"The doctors said the same thing as the healers. There are slim chances, and it might be a difficult pregnancy. I just need some time to process."

While he sorted through the pain and anger and tiredness this memory brought, he was surprised by how thick Weasley seemed to be.

"With everything the doctors and healers said, we probably have a lot more time to process than we ever intended to have."

"Ron, please. Just a couple of months."

"The potion will set us back for months, you know how long it took to work out of your system in the first place."

She seemed to crumble under the load of emotions she carried. He could feel her struggle with her breathing before she summoned her bag and heading to the fireplace.

"Why do you always leave?"

"Because I need to breath."

"And that works better when you are in his house than with your own husband?" She grabbed the floo powder, her hand shaking just as violently as he had witnessed earlier. The thought of Ginnys hug flooded her memory as if to calm her.

"This is not about him."

"Of course, it is. You are not the only one, who can do research. Imbalances in magical traces related to pregnancy are most likely to occur due to unresolved former marriage bonds. It's some sick way of punishing purebloods for getting a divorce."

Draco could actually feel her sob and he was surprised the floo had taken her to the Manor, when he heard the incoherent mumbling, she gave the fire.

He left her memory when he saw himself appearing and stared at her. It took him a minute to realize that he had balled both of his hands into tight fists.

"He actually blames you for the miscarriage?" Her face showed her surprise at his sudden outburst.

"That git talks about me like a monster, while he treats you like that, days after you lost his child?" He stood without noticing.

"Malfoy…" she shook her head at him but trailed off as he continued his rant.

"As soon as mother get's home I'm going to make sure he knows what scum like him deserves. There are enough hexes that don't violate my parole…"

"Malfoy, stop." He glanced back at her, surprised by the steadiness of her voice, and even more by her hand on his arm. She retreated again, once she had his attention. "He doesn't know about the miscarriage. I never told him. He worked a long shift, only came home to change the morning after, and I just never told him." He could see the tears welling up again. "I couldn't do that to him. He wants a baby so badly, I couldn't put this on him."

He was about to respond when he was interrupted by his mother's call. He sank back to the table.

"Draco, where is she?" His mother almost ran into the library. "Roks said Hermione was here and that she wasn't feeling well."

He motioned with his hands towards the couch in front of him. She became silent as she hurried across the room to join them.

"What happened?" Narcissa by his side, surprised him completely when she carelessly fell to her knees, likely ruining the expensive dress robes she wore. He saw out of the corner of his eyes that the tears had found their way down Hermione's cheeks again. It wasn't very likely that Granger had the strength to recount the story, so he quietly murmured a few sentences with the most important pieces of information: pregnancy, miscarriage, fight with Ron.

"Oh, my darling." His mother moved off the floor to sit on the couch, before carefully placing the younger witch's head in her lap. He regarded the two women for a moment longer and decided it was his time to leave. The memories troubled him nearly as much like her, as he had never lived through this kind of pain before. Sure there had been the cruciatus, Azkaban, and all these other things, but losing a child, seemed to top everything he had ever found painful. He closed his eyes, pushing the feelings back. When the pain was gone, he came across another feeling that seemed to be very present in her mind: guilt.

Draco opened his eyes; his mother's hands were soothing Hermione's back now and she really didn't need his comfort anymore. He didn't know what possessed him to still lean towards her one last time.

"Hermione, this is not your fault." His thumb once again caressed her cheek, before he stood to leave them to it. He even swallowed the glare he wanted to give his mother for looking at him curiously.