Disclaimer: HP is not mine. This is just for fun.

Trigger warning: Mention of rape. There are going to be dark and rather unwholesome themes in this fanfic. Just a heads up.

A/N : I still don't have a beta, but hopefully this weeks chapter is better in regards to typos than last weeks. :) Enjoy ~VerdeVeritas

Chapter 3

Draco watched Hermione leave through the Floo grate, feeling beyond destitute. Things had been good. They were always getting better. They were going to try for another child, actively try this time. Scorpius was by no means unwanted, but he had been an accident. Draco felt as if the last four years had never happened the way his wife had acted. His wife, his love, the sole reason he wasn't a murderer or a rapist. She was the only reason he hadn't given up and killed himself, because she was the one who had gotten him out. Hermione was the only person who really knew what it was like and didn't judge him for running terrified. Well, and Severus of course.

Hermione took his spot. She's the one who had helped Severus defeat the Dark Lord. Hermione was the one who faked Draco's death, without Severus knowing. Severus fucking Snape couldn't get through Hermione's Occlumency walls, not when it came to him. She'd hidden him far away from everyone and everything that had to do with old snake face, and she hadn't judged him for one second. She'd snuck Narcissa away, claiming his mother had tried to kill her on the way to a meeting. Hermione, sweet Gryffindor Hermione, had faked his mother's death and snuck her away to be with her son. The witch he had tormented for six long years was the only reason he was alive, and he was terrified to lose her, too.

After Hermione took down Voldemort, all of the Death Eaters were captured and tried. This, of course, included Hermione since she had a Mark. Never mind how facetious it was, the law was the law and Hermione wouldn't be seen getting preferential treatment. She was adamant if she didn't have to stand in a trial no one would ever believe she wasn't truly a Death Eater. Once she was finally freed, the Ministry had attempted to recruit her to be an Auror, but she'd decided against it. Instead, she had escaped to the country where she had hidden Draco and his mother. It was there he first witnessed the panic attacks and nightmares. It was there he fell in love with her.

It had never mattered how little sleep she had gotten; Hermione always woke up and read the paper with him. She knew he was searching for his father's face, trying to discern what his sentence would be. Narcissa had been beside herself when the verdict came down Lucius would be receiving the Kiss and sentenced to waste away the rest of his life in Azkaban. All Draco could feel was relief. Hermione had never judged him for that, either.

Now, his witch was dissolving into a puddle of tears and hysteria any time she looked at him. Any time she was awake she was a quivering mass of fear and pain. This was not his witch. She had always been so strong for him, and now it was all he could do to return the favor.

Before he had followed her to St. Mungo's, Draco had packed a bag with several of Scorpius' favorite things, and several changes of clothes. He told Scorpius his Mum was sick, and that he would be staying with his friend for a while. He took hold of his confused and worried child, whisking him away to Potter Manor via Floo. Ginny had greeted him along with James, the eldest of the Potter boys. He was the same age as Scorpius and they had often had sleepovers.

"James, why don't you and Scorpius drop his stuff off in your room. You know the drill. Mummy needs to chat with Mr. Malfoy for a few minutes. When I'm done, I'll come find you and take you both flying, okay?" Ginny said with a smile. She knew the most likely way to keep the two of them from wreaking havoc was to promise them a flying session. They loved to be on the broom as much as she did.

Both boys cracked wide grins before James said, "Come on Scorp! We can get you settled and we can change for flying!" Scorpius hugged his Dad, grabbed his overnight bag, and chased James from the room without much else.

Ginny hugged Draco when they were gone. "What the devil is going on?"

"Hermione had some sort of fit. She would not let me near her. She woke up screaming for Harry. Hannah said she has new scars, and she appears malnourished. Like months of malnourishment. I don't really know anything else. She was too hysterical if I was in eyesight. Harry and Hannah took her to St. Mungo's to be looked after," Draco explained.

Ginny's eyes turned soft and worried, her mouth turning down in a grimace of understanding. "Go. I'll keep him as long as you need. I can't promise he'll sleep through the night when he comes back because our wee daughter doesn't sleep for anything, but I've got him. Luna is teething, but I can always cast a muffliato on the boys' room."

"If you need anything else, just call for Tilly and she'll help you take care of it." Ginny nodded at Draco's back because he was already turning to see to his wife. His wife who didn't seem to know him at all. Sure she knew his name and his face but she didn't trust him. She seemed more afraid of him than anything.

He arrived on the first floor and was immediately greeted by the Medi-Witch behind the counter. "Room 294, Mr. Malfoy. They've taken her to the Magical Maladies ward until they can be sure of what ails her."

Draco didn't bother speaking, just gave her a curt nod, and went in search of whichever Healer had been assigned to his wife's case. He needed answers and he needed them now. Even at her most suspicious, Hermione had never feared him. He didn't like the way it felt, and he wanted it to stop. He didn't want to see her usually open and kind eyes filled with venom and mistrust.

He knew which room was hers without looking at the room numbers because Hannah was outside the doors consulting with another, elder Healer. True to her word, she'd found someone other than her who may have seen this before. Draco appreciated it but loathed the necessity. If didn't bode well, and was certainly not something he thought a calming draught was going to fix.

The Healer took notice of his approach before Hannah did, since her back was to him. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Healer Danforth. I'm afraid there isn't much news yet. We've only just gotten her settled in. Her headache was getting progressively worse, so we've put her to sleep while we run some more tests. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"I would imagine it's still best if I stay out of sight?" he hedged. He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to hold her hand and take care of her.

"I think that would be for the best," Danforth replied. Hannah echoed his sentiments, so Draco acquiesced and conjures a comfortable chair to rest in.

"She was making even less sense than before we had left the Manor. She kept saying she had to save Harry, that she shouldn't have faced so many Death Eaters alone, and that Dumbledore had died for nothing…I think it might have something to do with the curses that have been inflicted upon her. The Dark magic seems to be eating away at her magical core and causing instability," Hannah informed him. "Harry is with her. It's like she knows if he moves out of the room, even in her sleep."

"That's Hermione. The witch is always aware, I swear," Draco commented.

"Well, her Order of Merlin can attest to that," commented Danforth. "We'll get her squared away, it just may take few days." And with that, Hannah and Healer Danforth left his presence to do…whatever they needed to do. Draco sank into the chair to wait, for however long it should take for his witch to come back to him.

Unbeknownst to Draco, Harry, or her Healers, Hermione was currently trapped in a battle she didn't fully understand. She appeared restful to Harry, but in fact, she was waging an internal war, with what seemed to be herself. Hermione was trapped in a dreamscape, and of course it was Hogwarts. Half of the castle was as perfect as she had ever seen it, and the other half destroyed, just as she remembered seeing it during the war.

Hermione stood, facing herself, on the side filled with rubble and covered with blood and bodies. The other Hermione stood on the clean side, glaring at her as if she was the imposter here.

"That isn't how this works."

"How what works? And why are you in my head?"

"I'm in your head because I am you. I'm just the you who originated in this time stream. Think about it, how else can you quantify dying and then waking up with Malfoy for a husband?"

"I can't quantify any of it. None of this makes sense. But first things, why are you in my head?"

"Like I said, other me, I am you. You are me. We are the same, but we made different choices along the way and had different end results. "

The Hermione on the side of the destroyed castle let out a frustrated scream and sat on some rubble. She was most definitely beyond help. She was losing her mind.

"You're not. You're perfectly sane, but you've got two of you inhabiting one mind. I'm holding as much of our psyches separate as I can, but we're going to have to find a way to coexist in here since Fawkes decided you were worth transporting to another time stream. He gave up his life for you, you know? That's why you have the tattoo you don't remember getting. It's his gift to you. He's given you his lifeforce so you may exist here, and live a different life."

"I don't…I don't understand any of this. I was more than ready to let go. I was ready to die and move on with my life. I did the best I could for Harry, for everyone..."

"I know you did. It's what we do. I did the same, but I did it differently. It sounds as if the Healers are going to wake you soon. Harry hasn't left your side, as of course, we know he wouldn't. Be as smart as I know you are, and play along with a psychotic break or something. You need to pretend you can reconcile Draco in your life, because that man loves us, and we have a son with him. I will not have you destroying what I have built, and I will not help you without those terms being met. Is that understood?"

"You're saying you would what, kill yourself rather than hurt Draco or that little boy? "

That is precisely what I am telling you. Rather, I think we would go mad. I made plenty of my own sacrifices to make sure the man and son I love would and could have everything they ever wanted. I expect you to understand that. I expect you, me, to trust yourself enough to give Draco a chance while we figure this out. He'll never push you, that is not his way. You'll have time to get to know him while we figure out how to integrate…somehow. "

"This is immensely confusing, and I'm saying that. Of course, I would never punish a child for this. And oh, Fawkes..."

"Cut yourself some slack, yeah? You've been dead for a few hours," dream Hermione smirked in jest.

"Ugh, you look like him when you do that."

"Yes, well, we are married to the man. You pick some things up from time to time."

"I suppose."

"And Fawkes made this choice on his own. He tried to heal you and he didn't get there in time, so he did the only other thing he could do for you. He sacrificed one of his lives."

"That's another thing entirely to need to come to terms with. I didn't know he could go to a different time stream altogether. That is what this is, correct?"

"Yes, but it's not all that dissimilar from the one you've left."

"I guess, if you discount our personal relationship with Draco Malfoy, it isn't..."

"Alright, the Healers are going to reenervate you. Do your best to play disoriented, and I'll do my best to keep the memories from warring in your mind. I'll try to figure out a way to merge them, but it might take some time. I'll be here, the next time you sleep. We can discuss it in more detail then."

The Hermione who thought she was the rightful owner of this subconscious only nodded to the perfect Hermione across the divide.

"…mione…"

"Hermione, can you hear me?"

"Mmmpf. Go away," she grouched at the voice.

"I can't go away. You've been asleep for several hours. We need to wake you and run some tests," said a male voice. Hermione thought she remembered it…Danforth? Healer? Yes, that seemed right.

"Fine. Turn the light off though," Hermione grouched.

She didn't get any response, other than a chuckle from what sounded like Harry. Of course, it was Harry. No one else would laugh at her while she was in St. Mungo's.

"Shut it, Harry. Turn off the lights," she ordered.

Harry continued to laugh but then reported that the lights were off. Hermione opened her eyes, only to find that at some point in her sleep she had pulled her sheet over her head. She lowered the sheet in a huff, not at all wanting to deal with what was facing her, them? Us? Horribly confusing.

She started with, "Where am I?" Maybe if they thought she had lost time they would chalk it up to a mental break and send her to a Mind Healer and let her out of here. That presented a whole new set of obstacles, but, it would be better than being poked and prodded by Healers. With Dream Hermione keeping the memories at bay, for the time being, it left her far more capable of acting the part than she would be otherwise.

"You're at St. Mungo's, love," replied Harry. "You woke in a right state, screamed at Draco, and he sent for me. Hannah ended up bringing you here due to some of your comments and state of being. Draco said you didn't even recognize Scorpius…"

"Scorpius? Where is Scorpius? Where is Draco, for that matter? I'm surprised he isn't in here shaking some sense into me right now. That is his modus operandi…"

Draco's ears perked in the hall, as he was obviously eavesdropping one everything being said in the room. She sounded calmer, if not exactly herself, which was to be expected. Hermione asked about him, which he was going to take as a good sign. He felt the faintest spark of hope deep in his chest. His witch wasn't completely gone. She was still here.

"Scorpius is at mine with Ginny and the kids. Draco, I would imagine, is sitting in the hallway waiting on the all-clear to come into the room. When you woke, you wouldn't let him near you," Harry said gently.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy get your fine arse in here!" Hermione hollered. He couldn't see her face, but he knew that tone of voice. Hopefully, that was the right tone of voice. Getting things right from memories that are mine but aren't isn't exactly easy. The other Hermione had been delicately feeding her a sampling of memories on how to behave because this Hermione didn't know Draco the way the one from this reality did. Draco appeared inside the door frame, a hopeful smile on his face, worry displayed openly on his face for any and all to see.

"I'm fine you sod. Just a bad one, a really bad one," Hermione reassured him. "Come here." Draco sauntered closer to the bed, and she patted the empty spot next to her. She took his hand in hers, "I'm sorry to have worried you. I don't think I could tell I was awake," she said hushed.

Draco squeezed her hand, a pulse of quiet strength, "It's quite alright. I'm not a stranger to these. You are, however, staying your arse in this bed until the Healers have had their way with you. You're a mess, love. I don't know how you hid those curses from me for so long, or the tattoo, or why, but you need to be looked at. Apparently, the dark magic is eating at your core," he explained firmly. "And we are going to talk about all of it, later."

Hermione pouted but nodded slightly. "Fine, I will stay so they can do their tests, but there's no way to get rid of this. They are cursed scars, they're not going to go away. The dark magic is a part of me now," she trailed off and looked out the window. She was having a hard time being this close to him. It was extremely difficult to hold the hand of the man who had stood by and watched her be tortured on the floor in his home. It was hard looking into his eyes and showing anything but fear, and loathing.

"This Draco isn't that Draco. Let me show you something." Her other self whispered to her from the deep, dark recesses of her mind, and then Hermione was in a memory, which clearly wasn't hers, but was.

Draco Malfoy sat across from her in an abandoned classroom in the dungeons. He was young, probably fourth or fifth year. Gone was the arrogance, the façade he so often wore around the castle. He was terrified, and he didn't know what else to do. He knew his friends would flay him alive for meeting with the Gryffindor princess if they found out, but he didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be a part of this. He wasn't his father. He never wanted to be his father.

"Why am I here, Malfoy?"

"I need your help. I need the Order's help."

"Why do you want our help?"

Draco took a deep breath, not wanting to admit this to the girl he had been ridiculing and tormenting for years, but he knew he needed to. He needed her to believe him before he became another in a line of Death Eater's. "Because I don't want to be a Death Eater. I don't want to follow that madman to my death. I don't want to be Crucioed anymore. I don't want to be a part of this insanity my father is undoubtedly going to sacrifice my mother, and I, to. It's my job to protect her. I'm afraid my father is insane. I'm afraid my Mum is going to be killed because of him, and I'm most likely slotted to take the Dark Mark over the summer. I don't want this. I don't want any of this. I never have."

"You've never seemed to mind until now," Hermione commented suspiciously. She had her wand in her hand, but not raised. Draco hadn't even stood when she entered the room, worried she'd hex first and leave him there without hearing him out.

"I didn't have a choice! If I play nice with you then I'm ridiculed. I'm beaten every time your marks surpass mine! My father is not a nice, kind, or good man. He takes and takes. He wants to follow The Dark Lord, and he wants to offer me to him. The only thing I want is to save my Mum and myself from that life. I can't be friendly to you in the halls, even if I KNOW you're smarter than me, and even if I know your blood doesn't matter. If I'm seen doing anything other than antagonizing you, he beats me for that, too. He uses the Crucio when he's really upset with me. Granger, I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm a fucking Malfoy and I don't get a choice. I have to act a certain way or it gets back to my Father, can you understand any of that?"

"I can understand you're stuck in an abusive home, yes. What I cannot fathom is why you didn't come forward much sooner to have yourself removed."

"You don't get it. If the Dark Lord hadn't come back, I would have ignored you. Calling you names isn't something that's going to irreparably harm you. But he is back. He's back and I don't want to take the Mark. I don't want to kill people. I can be a prat because it's expected of me, but I don't want to kill anyone. I don't want to be evil. If it weren't for this psychopath I could have gone on, and just outlived my Father, but that's not how it's going to go and I don't want to be his pawn. Don't you get that? I hate Pothead and Weaselbee, but it isn't because of blood…I just, can you help me?"

Hermione sighed, a deep and heavy sigh. "Why me? Why did you come to me?"

"You're Hermione fucking Granger? You've got the ear of Dumbledore. You're the smartest and brightest witch seen in ages? Because you're a Gryffindor and you care?"

"You could have gone to Dumbledore or Snape."

Draco shook his head, fervently. "Dumbledore would want me to turn spy, and Snape is a spy. I don't want him to have to worry about protecting me, he's already fairly busy. I don't want to be anywhere near that madman. I will help you fight, but I won't do it under his thumb. I can act, but I'm no Severus Snape. I'll crack as soon as he goes near my Mum."

Hermione didn't reply for a moment. She was shocked he knew Snape was a spy of sorts, but then again, perhaps she wasn't. She didn't reply for several minutes. Draco could tell she was thinking. It was the face she often made when she was concentrating in class. Hermione considered the teenager in front of her. Product of blood purist rhetoric. Product of an abusive and broken home. A young man desperate for protection for that of himself and his mother from a psychopath. Hermione just couldn't be certain it was genuine. The sneer was gone from his face. He was actually slouching for Circe's sake! Draco Malfoy did not slouch. For all that Hermione could tell, he had dropped his mask well and truly.

"Are you familiar with legillimency?" she finally decided the only way to be sure, really sure, was to read him.

Draco snorted, "Nearly since birth."

"I'm going to rummage around in your mind. I'm looking for things specific to what you have told me. I'm very good, so you shouldn't feel anything. If there's anything you don't want to show me, specifically, then just mark it with a red X. I won't go there. I won't rape your mind because you allow me access, do you understand? Do you consent?"

Draco looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and nodded almost as if to himself. "Yes, I consent."

Hermione tucked her wand away in her holster and approached Draco across the room. It was dirty, and it smelled of musk and old dust. It was as if this room hadn't been used for thirty years, and dust was so compounded on top of the desks. Hermione wrinkled her nose, annoyed by the less than pleasant scents accosting her nose. She flicked her fingers and cast a cleaning charm and sighed at the fresh scent. Much better, she didn't need to be distracted. Draco's eyes were wide, as he watched her. She was powerful, more powerful than he had realized. She could already cast silently and wandlessly. Hermione stopped in front of him, the desk separated them.

"If you give me permission to touch you, I can be even more gentle. No one wants the headache," she smirked. This was also a test of sorts. If Draco Malfoy really didn't care about her blood status, then he would be fine with her touching him.

"That's fine. Thank you. I don't need a migraine when I get back to the common room. Some of the snakes aren't so bad, you know. They want out, too, but the rest of them are…awful," he commented. Hermione nodded to show she'd heard him and leaned across the desk. She placed her hands on either side of his face, gently cradling him. One snake at a time. If Draco was sincere, she could look at the others.

Hermione didn't say anything, and Draco certainly could not feel anything. She was amazing at this. He had been learning legillimency and occlumency since he was a lad, but she was featherlight in her touches and true to her word. He'd only had one area marked off, that he didn't want her to see, but otherwise, she was free to roam around in his head as she pleased. He didn't care, he'd told her the truth, if she could read his mind in truth then she would understand, he wasn't the boy everyone thought he was.

Hermione waded through his memories, avoiding the only one marked for non-entry. She walked through his thoughts and found that he was entirely fearful of his father, worried for his mother, and he could not stop thinking about how she smelled like lavender and how soft her hands were. While odd, that was neither here nor there. She stumbled over some memories of him haranguing her on the way to class, and the emotions associated with the memory were guilt, not malice. Guilt? For harassing her? Interesting. She found one of him watching her study in the library as she read and nibbled on the end of her quill and felt only curiosity. Even more interesting.

Hermione drew back from him and smiled. "Fine. I will help you. I'll help your mother. I will make sure you never have to take the Dark Mark. I will talk to Dumbledore and the Order. In return, the only thing you get to harass me about in the halls is my hair," she said turning her smile into a smirk.

Though relief was plain on his face at her willingness to help him, he had to ask, "Your hair? Why?"

"Because now I know how much you really like it," and she grinned. She dropped a Galleon on the desk in front of him as he spluttered and blushed. "This has a protean charm on it. If you need me, tap it and send your message. I'll do the same if I need you. I have to get some things figured out before we can move forward, and you'll need to make sure your Mother is on board."

Draco could only nod as she left the room with a swish of her skirts and a flip of her hair. That he really, actually, did like.

Hermione blinked into the eyes of Draco Malfoy and she understood then why her other self had agreed to help him. He wasn't a sycophant. He was an abused teenager living in the only place he had to go. So, she gave him another one. At the moment she accepted her reasoning, the two Hermione's agreed with one another. Draco would have to know the truth. At least some of it. Her Draco Malfoy may have been in the same position but hadn't believed he could ask her for help. Choices could change so much.

"I know the scars won't go away, but we will find something. You shouldn't have to live like this. I'll find a Curse Breaker if I have to," Draco said firmly.

"Bill Weasley is a damn good Curse Breaker," Harry muttered.

"Would you fetch him? He might be able to help the Healers," Draco requested. He and Harry had learned to get along. Draco still found him to be annoying on occasion, but he was a Gryffindor. Though, Potter did have some rather Slytherin tendencies from time to time.

"Of course, I will. Then, I'm going home to see my wife and sleep. I'll be back later, alright?" Harry said with a smile. He knew Hermione. She needed to say some things to Draco, and he didn't need to be here for those things.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said warmly.

"Anything for you, big sister," Harry teased. He leaned over to give her a hug, shook Draco's hand, and left the room with a chuckle.

"What is it, Mi?" Draco asked quietly. He knew his wife. He knew that look on her face. She was thinking again.

"I need you to go get Luna for me. Can you please?"

"That…you know that actually makes sense. The witch sees things in a way no one else does. Not to mention, she's your other best friend, so, I suppose I can agree to that request. Can I make a slight, very slight, suggestion though?" Hermione quirked her eyebrow at him in a Snape-like manner, and he chuckled.

"Expecto Patronum!" he called. A dragon exited the tip of his wand, waiting to receive his instructions. "Give Luna Lovegood this message, 'Hermione is at St. Mungo's and wants to see you. Please come as soon as you are able, though it is not an emergency." His dragon nodded at him and flew through the wall to deliver the missive.

"Fair enough," Hermione said with a chuckle. Draco, unsure of his welcome, got up to leave the room and allow her time to rest. Hermione clucked her tongue at him in disapproval just before his feet left the doorway. Draco turned to her, to see she had shifted over in the bed. He smiled and joined her. A kip surely couldn't hurt. He hadn't slept for shite the night before and Scorp had gotten up rather early that morning.

Hermione didn't know what she was doing, but, with assurances from her other self, she knew this Draco Malfoy loved her. Maybe she could relearn to love him, too? And she had a son. She was here in this reality, and she had a son. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe she could learn to love him. Maybe she could integrate herself wholly and learn how to be a normal person. Maybe she could do a lot of things. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep in Draco Malfoy's arms.