A/N: Hey, hope everyone likes this chapter. I stole time to write it and I hope it's as good as I want it to be. I don't think it will be too long now before it's done. Let's keep our fingers crossed!

Chapter 7: Hermione Granger

"Hermione. Hermione."

Hermione startled out of her contemplative state as Ron called her name, trying to get her attention. They had just got through having dinner with the Weasley family and her, Ron, Ginny and Harry were now seated in the living room chatting. Or she had been chatting, albeit with little enthusiasm as her mind kept dwelling on the letter she had received earlier that morning.

Narcissa had sent her a letter, one of many over the past two months since she had last been in the Manor when Draco had lost most of his memory, and the content of that particular one had her very worried.

Narcissa had informed her that Draco had been refusing his potions for the better part of the month. He kept asking for details about what happened when You-Know-Who had been in the Manor and all that he had his parents do. Hermione could tell that Narcissa was stressed, but her previous letters had all been asking how Hermione was coming along in her pregnancy and how joyed she was at the prospect of being a grandmother. She had hidden her trouble with her son well and Hermione admired her will of keeping her distress hidden until only when she was at her wits end. She had wished, though, that Narcissa would have informed her of Draco's refusal of taking his draughts sooner.

Alden hadn't told her anything about that, most likely because he was concerned and didn't want to put extra stress on her. He knew, as well as Lucius, she was positive, that Draco was the father of her babies. She could see why Alden had omitted such information. It wouldn't help in their search to help Draco reclaim all of his memories. And while Hermione was now very knowledgeable about Memory Charms, she wasn't any closer to finding out what Rodolphus had mixed in with it when he cursed Draco.

"Sorry, Ron," Hermione said. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Ron looked at her in understanding. He was such a great friend. They had dated once the war was over and into the year that Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts. As time went on, though, their interests and needs were vastly different from what either of them had expected and they both knew they couldn't go on. There had been romance and love between them, certainly, and they would always remain close friends. In the end, however, a romantic relationship wasn't enough to make up for their individual differences.

It wasn't that she was too smart for him or that their feelings for each other weren't strong. They just wanted different things. Ron had wanted to get married and settle down right after she would graduate. She wanted to live her life a little more without children, children she would no doubt love with all her heart and give all of her time for, for a while. He wanted to be an Auror, and was still one to that day. But she was weary of battle and didn't want to have to worry about him, especially with the possibility of her children not having a father if something were to go wrong in one of their raids. There were other things, of course, and they all added together to make a rift between her and her best friend, at least in the romantic department. In the end, it was for the best.

When she had started dating Draco, however, he had a hard time accepting it. He refused to talk to her, almost up until the month Draco had been attacked. He had come around, though, about a month prior, and admitted he was being a git and didn't want to have a strain on their friendship. When he had found out she was pregnant, the obviousness of it would have given it away so she had told her close friends sooner than others, he stuck by her side in her distress and made sure that she remained positive of the prospect of Draco waking up from his coma. And when he did wake up, he had encouraged her with his certainty that he would regain his memories.

"No more near finding out what Rodolphus hit him with," Ron asked, seemingly reading half of what was bothering Hermione.

She shook her head, and drooped a bit.

"Hey," Ron said, making her lift her eyes up to him, "there's still a chance he could regain most of his memories from those potions you said he's been taking. He'll most likely fall in love with you all over again when enough of them return. I know he's most likely always had a thing for you, now that I think about it."

Hermione blushed, not able to hold back the memory of Draco confessing he probably liked her as far back, mostly subconsciously, as third year when she had slapped him. He told her it made him think about his cruelty towards Hagrid and others and that he had, in his half-realized embarrassment and shame of what she had him reveal of himself towards himself, tried to stay away from her in order to avoid it from happening again. He said it had made him confused and he didn't want to question what was taught to him at that point in time.

"He doesn't want to see me," Hermione admitted, being brought down from the cloud she was just on. "His mother's letters and Healer Alden told me as much."

It was true. Narcissa's letter, with some ire towards her son's decision, had relayed Draco's firm refusal to have Hermione at the Manor. Healer Alden also said Draco had uttered the same desire when she had come up in their conversation. It made Hermione's heart hurt even though she understood the reason behind it.

Draco Malfoy was not the Draco she knew: the Healer, friend, and lover. He was the teenage boy from Hogwarts dealing with memories that were most likely confusing and causing him a lot of distress. His current self didn't love her much less care more than two straws for her either. It hurt that he didn't want to see her, but she tried to content herself with the knowledge that he was a different Draco than the one she grew to love. She would make that knowledge be enough because it had to be enough as things were now.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ron said, "everything will work itself out in the end. He'll get his memories back."

She smiled at the conviction behind Ron's words. He was confident that everything would be okay and she couldn't help but feel like it would be when he spoke with such certainty.

Draco was getting tired of him mother's nagging. And worse, his father was behind his mother in wanting Draco to take the remainder of his potions. Didn't they understand that he didn't want to see anything concerning You-Know-Who, his family, or Granger where they all mixed. If he didn't know any better, he'd even say they both disapproved of his decision in keeping Granger away.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see her; it was his apprehension in what he would feel if he saw her. It seemed that he dreamed about her the most of all his dreams. Well, perhaps they were memories he wanted most to know about. He didn't want to have any more nightmares concerning the snake-demon that plagued his vision every other day now that he refused to take his potions. He much preferred the ones that had her in them.

He sighed wistfully as he brought his hands up to cover his face. Had he really proposed to her? Were they really as happy as his dreams led him to believe they were? Did they really spend that one night of passion together when they both knew they should have waited but their yearning for one another led to an event without a hint of regret in the morning?

Draco felt like his face was on fire when the scene replayed itself inside his head. He also felt a little bit intrusive since he couldn't remember the precise moment he fell so much in love with Granger to want to tie her to him in such way even though he felt the exact same feelings his future-self felt when he had looked into her eyes.

And she was pregnant right now. Draco felt his stomach drop and got dizzy. Could he possibly be a father? The father of Hermione Granger's babies? He took a shaky breath as several different emotions hit him at once. Excitement, fear, apprehension, joy, pride, disbelief, and many others he didn't know the names of. But how to know for sure? It wouldn't be enough to just ask her and that prospect was simply embarrassing since he had little recollection of the events that led them to be together. To him she was the bossy, know-it-all girl that was annoyingly smarter than he was; the best friend to the two people in school that he hated the most. The headstrong girl he had a secret crush on since third year but wouldn't allow himself to acknowledge the fact.

"Blasted all" Draco shouted into his empty room, furiously rubbing his hands through his hair, messing it up.

He glared at the potions that sat innocently on his desk. He knew that if he wanted to find out anything more, he would have to take the potions. And he knew that when he did he would not want to see what memories would pop up while he slept. There was no good that could come out of You-Know-Who, his family, and Hermione. He felt a jolt of self-disgust at his cowardice. Steeling himself, he determinedly walked over to where the potions were and picked one up. Ignoring the slight shake in his hand, he uncorked the top and gulped it down as swiftly as he could.

'There,' he said to himself. 'No going back now.'

Draco sat in the dust drawing room with his head in his hands. He avoided looking at the faded Dark mark that was on his arm. He had been deliberately ignoring it but he couldn't now. Not anymore. It seemed like just yesterday that it had happened.

He had remembered the moment Hermione, Harry, and Ron were brought to the Manor. He knew he was terrified that they had been caught, especially Hermione. He had wanted to help them, but was too afraid to do anything but pretend he didn't recognize Harry when he was asked to identify him.

But then his mother had recognized Hermione. He had been trying to ignore and not look at her in hopes that nobody would realize that he recognized her. He couldn't stand to face the three as he turned his back and gave a less than half committed answer to his parent's inquiry.

He didn't blame his mother. All she wanted to do throughout the entire time that monster was in their house was protect her husband and son; even if that meant the possible death of others. He just wished it hadn't been Hermione that was the person who had to suffer because of his mother's devotion.

And not only that; it seemed everyone in the bloody house had recognized her; his father, mother, aunt, the snatchers, and that horrible werewolf that wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into her. His aunt was going to give her to him, too. It was a good thing Weasley had busted in then otherwise he would have done something that would have put his family in absolute danger.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered the scene of when his aunt kept her back in order to torture her for information. She knew. His aunt knew that he had a thing for her. The brief hesitation she had when she ordered Greyback to keep her there was proof enough that she knew. He had mentioned her more than once when his aunt had asked about school. But no matter how much affection she had for Draco it didn't stop her from torturing Hermione.

He had wished he had the courage Weasley did to shout out to take him instead. He felt like he had hit rock bottom at that point when he did nothing.

And then he had to stand there and watch her be tortured. The sounds of her screams were forever to be branded in his memory. He wanted nothing more than to make it end, but knew that there was nothing he could do to make his aunt stop. And when she had used crucio, he was beyond shocked and horrified. He couldn't even bring himself to cry with how horrible it was that the girl who he had previously convinced himself that she meant little to him, was crying out in pain due to the very ideals he had learned growing up. It made him sick to his stomach and ashamed of himself and his family. His mother's hand must have hurt with how hard he was squeezing it.

When his aunt had told him to get the goblin, he had hurried to fetch the creature as fast as he could in order to stop his aunt from hurting Hermione again. If his aunt had the goblin to question, she wouldn't have to cut or crucio her anymore.

Then her friends had busted into the room. He didn't want to fight them but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was on his way and the only way to even have a chance at saving Hermione was to be seen fighting against the very person who that evil bastard wanted. But then his aunt held her at knife point. She wasn't even conscious, for crying out loud. Though, now that he thought about it, it was probably better than she wasn't so she didn't have to feel the terror of being threatened with death by having her throat slit.

The whole situation just got worse when his aunt had offered Hermione to the werewolf. He was frozen with dread as cold alarm shot down his spine. He didn't have time to do anything when the chandelier fell due to his dismay at the near future that Greyback would get his hand and fangs on Hermione and that You-Know-Who would give his okay. His opportunity to save Hermione was nonexistent if it was the dark wizard who was the one who would give her to the werewolf. The shards that marred his face moments later were painful. He had been too absorbed in thinking of the horror that would befall Hermione and he was lost in thought as he stared at her unconscious form, not knowing what he could do to prevent it.

His mother had taken charge after that. She had distracted her sister from Potter by pointing out their previous house elf. Perhaps her surprise was genuine that their old servant had raised his hand against them, but he didn't think that that was the reason at all. She could have easily fought against Potter and helped her sister bring him down, but she chose not to. After they both stood frozen watching the small group Disapparate away, Draco hoping beyond hope that the knife his aunt threw at them didn't pierce Hermione, his mother whispered that she was pleased that the werewolf had been knocked unconscious. It was a curious thing to say after everything that had just happened.

He also had flashes of memory when he was doing his intern as St. Mungo's and late night researching along with glimpses of himself with Hermione when they had met for business dealings within the Ministry. The feelings he had for her seemed gradual, but he knew they had always been there.

And now…now there was no question. His slightly teen and future self were in complete agreement. He was in love with her; the insufferable, too smart, courageous, and loyal for her own good Hermione Granger. The girl who wouldn't allow herself to be bullied by him in school. The girl who had pride in herself and wouldn't be brought down because someone like him thought she was inferior because of her blood. The girl who didn't look his way twice when every other female longed to be with him.

But what happened since that led them to be together? He had been a coward and had allowed her to be tortured while he stood by and did nothing. The grief, guilt, and shame he felt was agonizing. The Dark Mark that was forever branded on his skin was going to be a constant reminder of all that he did wrong in his life. How he wished he could scratch it off bit by bit if only if it could take his sins with it.

He suddenly stood up. This would not do. He was sick of being a coward. And he felt that his future self was not one at all. It was time for something, anything, to be done; especially now that the war was over.

He was a Healer, yes? He would just have to reeducate himself on all that he once knew. It wouldn't take long. His intellect could be compared to Hermione's if he put his mind to it. And his occupation was one he had wanted to do as a boy. Apparently he had grown a backbone to stand up to his father in order to do what he wanted and go after it. And Hermione.

Well, he would just have to make her fall in love with him all over again because he was already in love with her. His memories may be jumbled, past with future, but his feelings were in sync with his future ones and they weren't going to change. He knew he wasn't exactly the same person as he was before his dratted uncle had cursed him, but he was still Draco Malfoy. He wouldn't leave her even if she asked him to. He was nothing but persistent when he wanted something. He made up his mind.

He needed to go to Hermione and tell her his intentions. He was going to marry her, be it before she gave birth or after, he didn't care which. And he was going to be the father to her children. The possibility that they were his was too high and even though she didn't wear a ring declaring her as his, she would be one day.

He left the dusty drawing room determined to go find Hermione, quite forgetting he had more potions on his desk. Heading down the hall, he heard voices in the sitting room. He slowed down his pace as he reached it and stuck his head in the door that was slightly ajar. Perfect. Just who he wanted to see.

Hermione, now five months pregnant since she it had been two months since she last been there, was talking to both of his parents and, in his eyes, looked absolutely bewitching. He felt guilt at his selfishness keeping her away for so long. But there would be no more of that. If things went the way he intended, she would be coming here so often it would feel like a second home. He was intending it to be her only home, but that would have to be in the future. The hopefully near future.

They all looked up from where they were sitting when he closed the door behind his entrance in to the room.

"Draco," Hermione said, surprise written all over her face when her eyes found his.

Draco walked with purpose over to Hermione and kneeled down to her so that they were eye level. He didn't care that his parents were in the room and not six feet from them or that they could clearly see how close he was to the woman he loved.

"Where is it" he asked, looking into her expressive brown eyes. How had he missed how much they told? It seemed his future self was adamant that the present him knew how to read her expressions.

"What," Hermione asked, confused but feeling heat creep onto her face by how close his face was to hers.

"The ring. The Malfoy engagement ring I gave you when I asked for your hand," he stated simply. "You should be wearing it."

A/N: I think it cut off kind of abruptly, but I need more time to know where this whole scene is going. I know I just kind of skipped months here, but time needs to move on for progress but not so short as to drag things out, know what I mean? I hope nothing in this chapter was confusing.