A/N: I am so excited to get this chapter posted. It is the longest chapter yet. It gives us another glimpse into Hermione's past. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, only the plot that deviates from the original story.

XoXo,

Elle.

Chapter 4

George had zoned out while sitting in the chair beside the bed. His eyes were unfocused but trained on Hermione so that any movement from her would have pulled him from his daze. But instead of movement from Hermione, it was an insistent knock on the door that pulled him from his stupor. George rose from his seat and walked through the flat to the door. He swung the panel wide and sagged in relief, his knees nearly giving out on him when he saw Draco on the other side of the door. "Thank Godric you're here."

Draco's grey eyes moved up and down his form, checking him over. He had no doubt thought that George had called for himself. "You're okay?" Draco asked, worry coloring his tone.

George looked up at his friend, straightening his spine as he nodded, avoiding glancing around the flat. "As okay as I can be, being back here today of all days."

Once again, Draco eyed him from head to toe. "And what exactly brought you back here today, George? Last we had talked, you had no intention of ever returning up here. What changed?"

"Oh! She's in my room." George turned and started back to his room, but when he didn't hear Draco following him, he turned around and looked back. "Draco, come on. She needs your help."

Draco's brows rose. "George, what exactly are you dragging me into here? This wasn't some product testing gone bad, was it? Or if you got some girl knocked up, you're going to have to deal with the consequences, because I don't do that kind of practice." George sighed softly. He knew that he couldn't tell Draco that Hermione was the one laying on that bed. He may well refuse to treat her if he knew before hand. There had always been that animosity between Draco and Hermione, though George saw it for what it was - sexual tension. Those two were so attracted to each other that one touch was likely to make them combust. Well, when both were conscious, that is.

"No, it's not either of those. Look, this girl just apparated out of thin air, right in front of the shop as I was closing and collapsed onto the ground, unconscious. I tried to wake her, but nothing has worked." George sighed, running his hand down his face. He knew what question would come next.

"Why didn't you take her to St. Mungo's?" Draco asked, following up with the next obvious question. "And why did it take you two hours to call me? Your shop closes at six."

George inhaled and blew the air out slowly, puffing out his cheeks. "Taking her to Mungo's would have created a publicity shite storm that she wouldn't have wanted. And I waited to call, because I wanted to see if she'd wake up on her own. I know I should have called you immediately, but I was honestly still debating what to do."

Draco frowned when George mentioned publicity. But it had intrigued him enough that he stepped into the flat and shut the door behind him. He met George halfway across the flat, his eyes falling to the dirty mug. "Is that Fred's?"

George drew in a hitched breath and sighed, his head dipping in a nod. "Yeah. It's where he left it when we left. Now come on." George resumed his steps, heading towards his open bedroom door. He stepped inside ahead of Draco, leaning over Hermione to brush her hair back and block her from view, forcing Draco to have to enter the room fully.

The footsteps behind George halted on the opposite side of the bed abruptly and the sound of Draco's medical bag hitting the floor echoed loudly around the room. "Is that - is that Granger?"

George turned to look at Draco, his eyes pleading. "Yes, Draco. It is."

"Where has she been? No one has seen her since the war ended…" He trailed off, shaking his head slowly. "Now I see what you meant about not taking her to Mungo's. That was the right choice." Draco repeated George's earlier move, inhaling and blowing the breath out, puffing his cheeks. "Okay, let me see." He picked up his kit, sitting it on the bed.

George watched as Draco popped the latches, opening up the large maw. His deft fingers withdrew a stethoscope and fitted the ear pieces into his ears. Those same fingers followed the black rubber tube down to the silver disc on the end. He lifted the disc and tapped on it with his fingertip, nodding at what he heard, then placed it on Hermione's chest over her heart. Draco listened for a long moment, his eyes closed. When he was satisfied with what he heard, he moved the small disc to another place on her chest. It appeared to George that he was checking her lungs.

Draco straightened his back and looked up at George. "Her heart and lungs sound fine. I'm going to check her temperature and blood pressure." George nodded dumbly, he had no clue what any of that truly meant. He just sat back down in his chair and took Hermione's hand. His eyes lifted at the sound of Velcro being ripped free and he tilted his head. Draco sure liked to use Muggle things, it seemed. He slipped the dark blue band onto her arm and fastened it.

Draco put the stethoscope back into his ears and placed the disc into the bend of Hermione's elbow. He used his free hand to pick up a bulb attached to the band on her arm and began to pump. George could hear the little miff, miff, miff and watched as the cuff tightened on her arm. This caused Hermione to whimper a bit, but she fell back into her quiet repose a moment later. Draco had his eyes closed again as he listened, his fingers twisting a little dial on the pump, a hissing noise emitting from the cuff. The air, no doubt, was being freed from the cuff on Hermione's arm.

Draco took out a Muggle thermometer next and stuck it under Hermione's arm, waiting quietly until there was a beep. "Her blood pressure, pulse and temperature are all fine. So you said she just appeared and collapsed, unconscious? She didn't say anything at all?"

George shook his head, "No. I was locking up, about to set the wards when I heard the crack of apparition, so I turned around. There she was, her eyes bugged out in her head and scared looking. But she only had her footing for a few seconds before her eyes rolled back and she fell to the ground. I levitated her up here, tried to Ennervate her twice and it didn't work. So I've just been washing her face and talking to her a little, thinking maybe she'd wake up on her own."

Draco clicked his tongue as he returned his attention to Hermione. "Now, just a moment ago, she whimpered. Has she done that any other time?"

A dip of his head and George spoke, "Yes, she did earlier. Frowned too. I called her name, but nothing."

They both looked down at Hermione. Her face was relaxed at the moment. "She was dirty when she got her. Grimy, like she'd been working in the garden or something," George added. "Some of it, well really what's on her clothes on this side, is from her falling in the street. But the rest of it was there when she showed up."

Draco's eyes roamed her clothing and George noticed them stop on her left hand that George had abandoned holding. Hermione's wedding set was shining in the light of the lamp. George nodded and cleared his throat, "Umm, yeah, I noticed that too. Had no idea she was married. Harry and Ron have never mentioned it, so it makes me wonder if they know."

Grey eyes flashed up to meet his, "Where are Potter and your brother? I'm surprised they aren't here."

"I haven't told them she's here…" George let that hang in the air, avoiding Draco's penetrating gaze. He could feel it boring into the side of his head, but he just looked down at Hermione.

"Why?" was all that left Draco's lips.

George sighed, reaching out to play with a curl at the side of Hermione's face. "She hasn't been in the wizarding world in five years, mate. She's only communicated with her best friends through owl. I'm 99 percent positive that they have no clue she is married. Hermione knows where both of them live and yet she chose to come to me. There had to be a reason for that. Until I find out that reason, I'm not telling anyone else. And I won't know that until she wakes up."

He once again felt Draco's gaze. "So that's where she's been? Hiding away in the Muggle world? And secretly married, too. But you're right, she had to have chosen you for a reason. Okay, let me see if I can get her awake and talking."

XxX

June 9, 2000

Hermione had just finished getting ready for her date with Tad. He wasn't due to arrive for another 30 minutes. To say she was excited would have been an understatement. She had never been on a proper Muggle date before. Hell, she'd never been on a proper date as an adult. That bloody war had intervened.

Her doorbell rang and she looked at the clock, surprised. Tad was early. That was a nice way to start the evening. She made her way to the front door and glanced through the peephole first, just to make sure it was him, and opened the door. "Hello."

"Hello, Hermione." Tad smiled down at her, and then his eyes moved to take in what she was wearing. "You look absolutely beautiful."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat in a blush. "Thank you." Tad pulled his arm from behind his back - she hadn't noticed that he'd been hiding it - and in his hand was a bouquet of daisies. Hermione's smile widened. Daisies were her favorite flower. "Oh, Tad, they're beautiful. And my favorites." Hermione took them from him and walked into the house with him following.

In the kitchen, she took a vase from under the sink and filled it with water, casting a wandless charm on it to make the flowers last longer, and slid the flowers in. She then moved to set them on the kitchen table. "Really, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

Tad smiled at her again and it was breathtaking. His teeth were straight, even, and brilliantly white. His blue eyes were impossibly bright against his dark lashes. "Well, they are another way to show my appreciation and thankfulness for you helping me with my hands."

"Oh yes, how are your hands?" Hermione asked, her eyes dropping to them. He held them up, showing her the large beige bandages just on his palms. "They're doing much better, thanks to your first aid expertise."

They fell into an easy laughter for a couple of minutes and it felt nice. It had been a few years since Hermione had laughed like that. She had needed it. "Are you ready to go?" Tad asked. Hermione nodded and rose from the chair she had sat down at.

They left her house and began walking down the sidewalk. Earlier in the week they had agreed upon a small cafe that was close to where they both lived so that they could walk there. It was a particularly pleasant June, so it was nice out at this time in the evening.

"Now, I know you're technically not supposed to ask a woman's age, but how old are you?" Tad cast her a sideways glance with a playful grin and Hermione laughed softly.

"I'll be twenty-one in September. What about you?" She asked as they walked, her fingers brushing the skirt of her sundress.

Tad looked ahead as if in deep thought, then glanced over at her with a smile. "I just turned twenty-seven last month. So it seems I am older than you. What do you do for work?"

Hermione almost paused in her walk, but managed to keep going. She should have known their conversation would have taken this route. They needed to get to know each other after all. "Well, I'm not working currently. I have an inheritance that my parents left me. But I plan on starting university soon."

The little cafe came into view and they walked up to its doors, Tad beat her to them and opened one half wide for her. "After you, m'lady." Hermione let out a small giggle and walked through the opened entrance. "Thank you, kind sir."

Once they were seated, their conversation resumed, "So what do you do for work, Tad?" Hermione asked as she picked up her menu.

Tad looked up from his menu with another one of his heart stopping smiles. "I'm a Captain in the British Army."

Well color Hermione impressed, to be a Captain at such a young age had to be an accomplishment. "Is that something that's common for someone your age?"

Tad nodded, "Yes, generally it is. It's just how the progression goes. It's a pain to explain. Have you always lived in this area? I'm sure I would have remembered you from school, even though I am older."

Hermione nodded with a small smile, "I have, but my parents sent me to a boarding school for the gifted when I was eleven. I was struggling to fit in at school here. I was already two grades ahead of the classmates my age." Okay, that wasn't an outright lie. But it still burned in her throat and tasted horribly on her tongue. No relationship, be it friends or more, should be based on lies. But that damned Statute of Secrecy was a bitch.

"Oh, that would make sense, then. So you must be very intelligent then." Tad said, just as the server arrived.

With their drinks and meal ordered, the server left and Hermione answered his question, "Yes, I have an eidetic memory; it comes in handy. I've always loved to read, so it was never a problem for me to do my schoolwork."

"Are you one of those that will read anywhere? While you cook, while you eat, in the tub?" Tad asked, glancing up as the server set down their drinks.

Hermione laughed softly, lifting her water for a sip. "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm a bit of a swotty bookworm. All I do is read, whether it be for school or pleasure."

Their food was delivered shortly after and their conversation went on throughout the meal, continuing to be easy going and filled with laughter. Hermione knew then that they would be great friends, if not more.