A/N: I'm so excited that I waited to post this chapter to build the anticipation. I hope that you find this chapter to your liking. Please let me know what you think?

Disclaimer: JK owns all. Except the plot in this story and the original characters that I created.

XoXo,

Elle.

Chapter 10

March 20, 2003

They had been married nearly three years now and life for Hermione had changed for the better from their chance encounter. Her first date with Tad had been a revelation she hadn't expected. She had enjoyed immersing herself back into the Muggle world.

Hermione still hadn't told Tad about her magical abilities. Seeing Malfoy Manor on the way to their honeymoon destination had deterred her from doing so. But that hadn't dampered the fun she'd had in Bath. Those four days had been some of the absolute best of their marriage and every year, on their anniversary, Tad took those days off again and they would travel.

They had yet to start their family, though it wasn't for lack of trying. But she had some news to tell Tad in the next couple of days, after she had a doctor's appointment. Her life couldn't have been any better.

Until the phone rang in the middle of the night.

Hermione jerked awake as the shrill sound of the phone echoed through their home. Her eyes shot wide open as they tried to adjust to the darkness. She fumbled for the receiver on her side of the bed, lifting it from its cradle to her ear. "Hello?"

When the official sounding voice asked for Tad, she roused him, handing the phone over. His drowsy, gruff tone changed in an instant and went to alert and obeying. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir." He handed the phone back to Hermione, and she returned it to its cradle.

"What's going on?" She asked, pulling her knees to her chest.

"They're calling us all in. America is invading Iraq and they need our help. I have to go." His lamp was flipped on, the light assaulting her eyes, wetness prickling the edges. She understood. He had a duty to his country, his people. Just as she had to hers. But he wasn't American and this was the Americans' fight essentially, wasn't it? Bloody United Nations shite.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked, her voice sounding small and scared. So unlike herself. But she had already lost so many of those she loved to war.

He had disappeared into the closet, no doubt pulling on his uniform, his voice muffled. "I have no idea, babe."

His goodbye had been rushed, but then again, it had to be. He had to go, there was no time to waste. He kissed her heartily and fled from the house.

XxX

Draco had convinced George to leave the manor and actually go check in on his business, to make sure things were running smoothly. He had assured and promised George that things would be fine with Hermione. Though, as a healer, he should have known better than to make a promise that he couldn't keep.

Hermione had been still and quiet, as usual, all morning. Draco had taken a book down from one of the shelves and had started reading it, attempting to distract himself. It was now the fifth of May; it had been three days since Hermione had fallen into her coma. It was absolutely driving Draco around the bend that she wasn't waking up, and that he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

He felt the bed begin to move slightly and he thought that Hermione may be doing one of her rare adjusting moments. But when Draco turned to look at Hermione, she was sobbing quietly. There were large tears streaming down her face and her body was shaking from the sobs. Draco dropped the book on the bed and moved closer, sliding one arm under Hermione's shoulders and pullinh her into his chest. "Shhh, Hermione, I've got you."

Draco had a feeling that whatever she was reliving now was painful. He also thought that she may be coming near the end of whatever memories that was holding her in this magical coma. "It's alright, Hermione. I've got you." Draco used his free hand to pick up his wand and cast a patronus to send to George, telling him to return immediately. If Hermione was going to wake up soon, George needed to be here. She had appeared to him, after all.

XxX

May 2, 2003

Today was a day she hated. It held so much pain. It was the five-year anniversary of the fall of Voldemort. The day she had found out that so many of her friends and loved ones had died. And she couldn't sleep. Of course, she hadn't slept much since Tad had left, and that had been just over a month ago.

And now, she was waiting to hear from her husband. They hadn't had much communication, just a short 'Hi. How are you? I have to go. I love you.' She hadn't had a chance to tell him their good news. It had been radio silence for two weeks now and most of the British troops had been pulled back yesterday to return home. At least, that is what the news had said. They hadn't said which platoons yet, and she found herself hoping and praying that Tad's was one of them. She would tell him when he came home.

The death toll was rising each day, the new count now at 170 plus. Which, considering all the weapons, could be a lot higher.

Since she couldn't sit still she was doing chores around the house that she hadn't gotten to yet. There was a load of laundry on the wash, one on to dry and she was washing dishes, throwing herself into the task to distract her mind, when there was a knock on the front door. Her hands paused in the movement, fear constricting her throat.

She glanced up at the clock over the sink. It was about five in the evening. She knew she wasn't expecting any visitors-she never had visitors. That could only mean one thing, and she hoped she was wrong.

She picked up the dish towel, wiping her hands dry and twisting it in her fists, she walked to the front door. As she opened the door, her heart constricted in her chest as her mouth went dry. There, on her stoop, were two uniformed Armed Forces officers. "Mrs. Thaddeus Wallace?"

Hermione could do nothing but nod. Her mouth was as dry as the desert and her brain had ceased to function. There was a lump in her throat that was swelling by the second.

The male officer turned to his female counterpart, his eyes turning sad as the severe-looking woman softened her features as if on command. "The Queen and the commander of the British Armed Forces regret to inform you that your husband, Sergeant Major Thaddeus Wallace, was killed in action, early this morning, in Iraq, saving an innocent child from insurgents. There is an ongoing investigation, and once that investigation is complete, you will have full access to that report."

Hermione started to shake her head, her hands squeezing the towel in a death grip. "No. No, no, no, nononononoNONONO!" It was all her brain would allow her to say. Her body started to shake, magic vibrating through her system as agony took over.

The devastating irony of this day was too much for her to bear and her magic, which had been willingly suppressed for far too long, burst forth, throwing the two officers away from her, while simultaneously Obliviating the incident from their memories. The outburst collapsed the front of the house, bringing it down in rubble. The last things she remembered were apparating away, landing in front of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and seeing George's surprised face as he went to close for the day, before she collapsed unconscious onto the pavers.

XxX

George had arrived a couple of minutes after Draco had sent his patronus. Draco looked up at the sound of the apparition, but didn't cease his cooing to Hermione. It had seemed to be calming her down, but half an hour later, she began to become hysterical, batting at Draco, fighting so hard against his hold that he knew he was going to have bruises.

Draco had to rise from the bed, throwing up some barrier charms so that Hermione wouldn't throw herself from the bed. George looked over at him worried, "She's not having another seizure again, is she?"

"No. I think she's reliving the memories that caused the coma." Draco replied, his hand coming up to rub at a particularly sore spot where Hermione had pummeled him.

"Why are you not using on her to make sure she's okay?" George asked, his voice slightly panicky.

Draco shook his head. "Two reasons. I don't want to invade her privacy like that and she would beat me to hell if I was close enough to perform Legilimens on her. I think this is about to get rough, so brace yourself." Draco waved his wand around the room and put up a silencing spell, so as not to frighten Scorpius if he was close, if Hermione screamed when she woke.

Something in the air told Draco that Hermione would be waking up soon. Both Draco and George could feel the magic, tension, and hurt building.

On the bed, Hermione's lips began to move, forming the same word, over and over again. "What is she saying?" George wondered aloud. But they didn't have to guess for long, because the one word became a murmur, a chant, then a yell, and finally a scream.

"TAAAAAAADDDDDDD!" Hermione sat up ramrod straight in the bed, her eyes flying open, the colors in them flaring, almost as if there were amber flames dancing behind them. Her hair was a frizzy, flying mess, magic crackling between the curls. At the sound of her bloodcurdling scream, the windows in the room shattered, the books flew from the shelves, and their pages went flying through the air.

When Hermione's eyes landed on Draco and George, her mouth closed and the screaming stopped. Recognition showed in those eyes before it was replaced with severe pain and heartbreak. The tears continued to fall down her face as she laid back down in the bed on her side and curled into a ball, not saying a word.

Both Draco and George exchanged looks and breathed identical sighs of relief. She may not be anywhere near okay, but Hermione was finally awake. And that was all that they had been praying for the last three days. They wanted to give her some time to collect herself. Draco needed to examine her, but that could wait. With a silent nod between them, they righted the room so that she wouldn't have to look at the destruction she caused and sat down in the armchairs by the fire to give her space. Draco would give her fifteen minutes, and then he would transition into Healer mode.

Those fifteen minutes passed by slowly and Hermione never moved from her spot. She was still crying. Draco could hear the quiet sobs from his spot near the fireplace. He looked over at George and gave him a nod. George rose from the chair, taking a deep breath to gather his courage. They had talked about how they would approach Hermione a few minutes ago and decided that George should go first.

Draco watched as George walked over and stood at the corner of the bed, clearing his throat quietly before speaking. "Hermione?"

The only answer was a whimper from her as she curled into herself more. George sat down on the bed, reaching out to brush her hair back from her face. "Sweetheart, we're in Malfoy Manor. Draco is a Healer, so we brought you here. Instead of St. Mungo's. We'll explain all of that later. But Draco needs to do an examination on you. Nothing invasive. Just needs to check your blood pressure and things like that. Is that okay?"

Draco realized he was clenching the plush armrests of the chair and forced himself to let them go, flexing his fingers as he strained his ears to hear Hermione's response. But try as he might, he only heard a faint sound from the bed. George however turned back to Draco and gave him a solemn nod.

It was time for Draco to gather his own courage now. All of his equipment was still over by the bed, so all he had to do was walk over. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, letting his hands hang in mid air. Draco couldn't help but notice they were shaking. The last time his hands had trembled like this was his first day as a licensed Healer.

Draco lowered his lids, took a deep breath, and stood from the chair, straightening his shirt. The walk to the bed was simultaneously short and ten miles long. George got up from the bed, moving around to the opposite side. Draco expected Hermione to protest George's leaving, but she didn't move or even really acknowledge his absence, aside from her eyes following him. "Hello, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes snapped over to him, a wild look in their whiskey-colored depths, her voice was raspy when she answered, but it was like music to his ears. "Draco."

"I'm just going to do a vitals check. Blood pressure, temperature, listen to your heart, lungs and check your pupil reactions. Alright?" Hermione nodded, her red-rimmed eyes closing as she maneuvered herself onto her back. Draco slid the blood pressure cuff onto her arm and placed the stethoscope into his ears.

Hermione looked up at him, a frown creasing her brow. Draco could tell she was confused as to why he would be using Muggle equipment, but she didn't say anything. The piff, piff, piff of the cuff was loud in the room, but Hermione's stare was almost screaming at him. Draco kept his eyes on the dial, reading her numbers as he started to deflate the cuff. "One hundred thirty-eight over eighty-seven. That's higher than it has been, but I expected that."

Draco lifted his wand to Hermione's temple and murmured the spell to check her temperature, getting a normal reading and nodding, "Thirty-six point ninety-four. Normal." He placed the disc of his stethoscope on her chest over her heart, listening to the steady thumping of her heart. "Sounds good there. I'm going to need you to take some deep breaths, okay? Whenever I move the disc around, I want you to take a deep breath." Hermione gave him a nod, and Draco continued.

Once that was finished, Draco pulled out what the Muggles call a penlight. "This is going to be bright, probably. Especially with you being in a sort of coma for three days, but I do need to check your eyes."

"Draco, I've had this done before, just get on with it," Hermione said, her voice flat.

Draco swallowed hard and nodded, flashing the light into one eye and then the other, watching how her pupils reacted. "Everything looks great. Are there any medical conditions you need to be treated for? I assume not, since you've been perfectly fine the last few days. I ran some diagnostics when George first called me, but I need to ask."

Hermione rolled back onto her side, her hair covering her face once more. Her flat voice had changed, had taken on a different tone, a different dimension. Now she sounded dead, all while being alive.

"Yeah, I'm pregnant."