A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. :) Next one will be up in a few days.

Chapter 2

Hermione stepped out of the fireplace just as Draco was stepping into it.

"Ouch!" she muttered, reeling back, holding her head. To her surprise, Draco steadied her and pulled her out of the fireplace.

"I thought you'd never get back," he said impatiently. "We've got to talk."

Hermione looked at him apprehensively and sat on the bed, wondering how much he knew. "About what?"

He stared at her incredulously. "About this, Granger," he said, practically tearing the ring off his finger. "In case you haven't noticed, we're now married!"

Deciding that he didn't yet know, Hermione took a deep breath. "Malfoy, I've just been over to see Ginny."

"You told her? Great, now it's not even a secret! Merlin," he swore. "I thought you were supposed to have some brains."

"I told her that last night you and I got extremely drunk and ended up married. And Malfoy, she said- she said you and I have been married for four years."

The expression on his face was priceless, and Hermione would have laughed if she weren't his wife.

"You're joking." Weakly, he went to sit on the bed as well.

"It's not at all funny, Malfoy. Look at this." Without really knowing how she knew, Hermione took off her ring and showed him the inscription on the inside.

Granger - Malfoy, 2004

Draco closed his eyes. "I'd never marry you."

Hermione stayed silent, privately agreeing.

"Or- we must be in a loveless marriage. That's it. There's no way we could be in love."

Since she agreed, Hermione chose not to tell him that according to the Potters, they were definitely in love. "That reminds me of another thing. We've got a son."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "Fuck," he groaned, flopping back on the bed. "Wake me up when the nightmare's over."

Hermione smacked his arm, irritated. Even though she had never met and couldn't even remember her son, she didn't appreciate people cursing him, especially not the boy's own father. "This isn't only happening to you, you know. I'm just as involved as you are. Maybe instead of griping about it, we can think of something."

"Something like what? And don't touch me, Granger. We may be married but we're not… friends or anything stupid like that."

"It's called hitting, not touching- know the difference. Now, do you remember anything from these past four years? Or are the years a complete blank?" Hermione asked, trying to think.

"Oh, I remember my work, all right. That is, I remember being at the office. I don't remember doing any work at home." He sat up again and looked around. "Where the hell are we, anyway?"

"Malfoy Manor."

Draco groaned again. "So that's why this place is so familiar. We're in my parents' bedroom."

Hermione gasped as the implications hit her. "We've done… Merlin knows what in your parents' room?" Her face burned and she looked wildly around the room, almost expecting to see a hidden camera.

"Relax, Granger, my parents are in one of the smaller estates, the one in Kent. That means this bedroom is definitely ours now." He got up and walked over to the closet. "These are my clothes in here. And yours too. Well, I assume they're yours, they're not my mother's."

"So this really is our room…" she trailed off, frowning. "Whatever happened to us last night only has only erased the memories of our marriage. Ginny said you and I had a huge row."

"Not surprising, really. We probably fight all the time. In fact, I bet we're filing for divorce," he predicted. "But that's no reason to wake up completely forgetting our marriage."

"Yes." Hermione checked her watch and stood up. "We ought to check on Ralph."

"Who- oh, the offspring?"

"Don't call him that. He's our son."

Draco snorted. "And really, what kind of a name is 'Ralph'? It sounds so Muggle." He paused. "Oh, I forgot who I was talking to. Of course his name would sound Muggle."

Hermione grit her teeth. "Ralph is a perfectly wonderful name, and I can name at least a dozen Purebloods throughout history who have had that name," she said in her most know-it-all voice, the one that never failed to make Harry and Ron stop questioning her. As she had hoped, Draco didn't press for details, so she resumed her original plan. "Come on, Malfoy, we should check on him."

Draco closed the closet door and turned to her. "The house elves will take care of him," he said dismissively.

She glared at him. "What makes you think we have house elves?"

"Granger, this manor is huge! Unless you're a housewife who spends all her time cleaning, you should be grateful that we have house elves." He smirked, knowing her aversion to slave labour.

"Even so, we have to find him. He's our son, Malfoy!"

"He's a miracle, more like," Draco muttered. "Completely impossible, as you and I would never-"

Hermione couldn't disagree with that, despite all the evidence staring her in the face- like those marks on Draco's neck. Instead, she interrupted him, saying, in her bossiest voice, "Malfoy! We need to see him."

"And where do you expect to find him?"

"In your old room, of course."

"Have fun."

She frowned at him. "You're coming too, idiot. You're the one who knows this place. Lead the way."

"And you're going looking like that?" he asked, gesturing at her wild hair and wrinkled party clothes.

Hermione blushed as she looked down. "I'll just change," she muttered, walking over to her closet to pull out some comfortable home clothes. "And you might want to do something about your neck."

Eventually- after a good deal of stalling- they both felt presentable enough to face their son. "Lead the way," Hermione said.

Reluctantly, Draco did. "What are we going to tell the elves?" he asked as they walked down the corridor.

Hermione looked surprised. "Do we have to tell them anything?"

"They're bound to notice something's wrong."

She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I suppose we could trust them with the truth. They might be able to help us. They must know our routines just as well as we do."

To her surprise, he didn't argue. Hermione frowned slightly; she had expected him to treat his house elves like mindless slaves, rather than trusted servants.

"Right. This is it." Draco stepped back to let her enter. Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing that he wasn't letting her go ahead out of any gentlemanly feelings, but rather out of trepidation.

She had only opened the door a crack when she was spotted.

"Mummy!" came the little boy's shout. He ran up to her, ignoring the house elf holding his trousers

Hermione stared, gobsmacked, at the blond little blur. He barrelled into her legs and held up his arms, expecting to be carried. Hermione obliged.

"Daddy! G'morning!" he shrieked into her ear, having finally spotted Draco, who was still standing outside the room. Hermione winced and turned the child in her arms so they were face to face.

"Good morning, Ralph" she said, hoping she sounded cheerful. She wasn't sure what she had expected her child to look like, but then again, she had never imagined her son to be a Malfoy. Blond hair and grey eyes, he was a slightly less pointy version of his father. That he was Draco's son was undeniable, and he had enough of her own features to make it impossible for him to be anyone else's. "You'd better put your trousers on." She pinched his bare leg lightly, and he giggled.

Walking over to the elf, Hermione set her son down. Draco followed awkwardly, and the little boy twisted around, trying to reach his father. "Daddy! Daddy!"

His cheeks flaming, Draco held out his arms. "Come here." The boy ran into his arms, and Draco reached for the trousers that the house elf was holding. "Come on, don't give the elf a hard time."

With some difficulty, Draco finally succeeded in putting the trousers on his son, who was talking a mile a minute. Draco nodded along, pretending he could actually understand Ralph. Once he was done, he sat back, wondering what on earth to do next.

Hermione, in the meantime, was talking quietly with the house-elf. "Good morning. Has he eaten?"

"Yes, Madame," the elf replied politely. "He desired to eat with you and the Master, but I thought you were still in bed, and I thought it best if he ate ahead."

"That's fine." Hermione suddenly remembered that she and Draco hadn't eaten yet. "Do you know if we have any plans for the day?" She was slightly taken aback by the elf's excellent grammar and manner of speaking, and snuck a triumphant grin at Draco, who was busy with Ralph. She was evidently speaking to a well-educated house elf.

"I believe you and Master Draco and Master Ralph are supposed to join Master Lucius and Madame Narcissa for lunch at their home in Kent," the elf supplied helpfully. If he suspected that anything was amiss, he didn't let it show. "Master Ralph is particularly looking forward to it. That will be in an hour and a half," he added, eyeing the clock discreetly.

"Thank you, Jeeves," Hermione tried to smile, fear creeping into her heart. Lunch with the Malfoys was not what she wanted. She hesitated, wondering how it was that she had managed to remember the elf's name. Probably the same way she had known about the engraving on her wedding ring. "Um, Jeeves- I don't mean to alarm you, but there's something you ought to know." Quickly, she outlined the situation and asked him to inform the other elves, but to act normally for Ralph's sake. Although Jeeves understood immediately and vowed to aid his master and mistress as much as possible, he was unable to supply any useful information as to the events of the previous evening. Hermione thanked him, trying not to show her disappointment, and turned to Draco.

By a brilliant stroke of inspiration, Draco had gotten the idea of tickling Ralph. The boy loved it, shrieking with laughter as he twisted in his father's arms. "Daddy! Daddy, stop!" he'd beg, but once Draco would oblige, Ralph would say "Again!"

Hermione waited patiently while the two played. Apparently, Draco didn't doubt the child's paternity either. Even if he did, even the tiniest bit, he must be charmed by the child, too. She had to admit, Ralph was the cutest little boy she had ever seen. He was all smiles, all laughter. He was adorable. She felt tears of frustration prick her eyes, and she excused herself, making her way back to the bedroom she shared with Draco. Why couldn't she remember her own son? It was horrible, not knowing him. Ralph obviously loved both of them, and it killed Hermione that she couldn't love him as much as she should.

She was sitting on the bed, leafing through a photo album she had unearthed, when Draco found her. He saw her crying and looked alarmed. "More bad news?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm just… it's all just hitting me now, I suppose," she confessed. "I have a son. I'm a mother, and a wife. Forgetting our marriage- it's more than just that. We're not the only ones affected. What if you and I never fall in love again? What will happen to Ralph? Will we eventually tell him the truth? And as much as I love him now, I must have loved him more before, with three years worth of memories of him in my head."

Draco looked uncomfortable. "I don't know, Granger. Maybe we'll get our memories back. Maybe this is temporary."

"I've tried every possible spell I could think of, to counter this," Hermione said, and Draco noticed the wand beside her on the bed. "Nothing works." She sniffled again, and Draco averted his eyes, having no idea how to comfort her.

"What did the elf say?" he asked instead.

"We've got lunch with your parents at their house in Kent," she informed him, dabbing at her eyes with tissue. "Which just about makes my day."

"Can't we cancel?" Draco asked, swearing under his breath. "This is an emergency. We can't meet them while we hate each other!"

"Jeeves said Ralph is looking forward to it. He'll be crushed if we cancel."

"Great," he sighed. "Perfect. Life can't get any better, can it? Do you think we should tell my parents?"

Hermione shrugged. "You know them better than I do. What do you think?"

"I guess we should," Draco said, sounding resigned. "They'll know something's up even if we don't."

Hermione pulled herself together and stood up. "I'll take a quick shower before we go. And then, if I have time," she glanced at the clock, "I'll stop by the library and see if I can research anything. I don't think we have time for breakfast anyway."

"Granger," Draco began hesitantly, "do you want your own room?"

Hermione noticed he wasn't offering her the one they were currently in, but to be fair, it was more his house than hers. She would have been happy with her own bed, so she certainly wasn't about to refuse her own room. "That would be better, I think."

Draco nodded and gestured at the closet. "Get some of your things, and I'll go find a suitable room."

By the time Hermione had moved to her new room and showered, it was almost time to leave. She felt mildly disappointed at not having been able to visit the library, but her nervousness by far surpassed her disappointment. Ralph seemed to adore his paternal grandparents, but she herself had no recollection of ever meeting them except under less than friendly circumstances. Draco seemed just as worried, which didn't help matters at all. She stopped by Ralph's room and saw him struggling with his shoes.

"Where's Jeeves? Do you need help?" she asked him kindly. He clomped over to her, his shoes half on.

"I'm hungry!"

Hermione chuckled as she bent over to fix his shoes. "We'll eat at your grandparents' house."

"What time?"

"I don't know, Ralph," Hermione replied honestly. She straightened up and smiled. "Let's go look for-" she hesitated for a while "-Daddy."

"Okay." Ralph held her hand and together they walked to the master bedroom. Draco looked up from the photo album when they entered.

"Ready?"

Hermione was glad to see that she wasn't the only one who was nervous. "Ready," she said, picking up Ralph up and holding him close to her. "Now remember, hold tight," she told him. He nodded against her, and they both watched Draco Floo ahead of them.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione copied his example, and before she knew it she and Ralph had arrived.