Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: I love every single one of your reviews and I'm sorry if I didn't get to reply to yours. I thought you might like this better.
That being said, this was a very hard chapter for me when I wrote it. You'll see why. Also, I'm sorry in advance.

One more thing, I am not European as I've said before. I have been to Europe but I know it's not the same. That being said, I had to look up some things to make them more appropriate. One such thing was Jell-O. Why do things have to be so hard? I read it was called 'jelly' forgive me if this is wrong and we'll excuse it to my being American and clueless. Also, when I was in Europe I had a good laugh at the "American" sections in the grocery stores. I promise you we don't all eat junk food though an occasional twinkie is nice.

Chapter 12

Draco
-Past-

"I don't bloody know Granger, maybe someone who wanted to kill me?" he snapped, waving his jelly covered spoon at her as she stopped her pacing to glare at him.

"So I'm Granger again am I?"

"Technically you're always a Granger." He smirked and neatly dodged the wadded up piece of parchment she lobbed at his head.

It had been like this the past week; every day she would show up for lunch and stick around for a few hours as she tried to puzzle together what had happened to him while he took the piss out of her and enjoyed every second of it. He would never admit it but he counted the minutes until she arrived there every day.

"You're not helping," she sighed as she flopped down on the chair beside his bed, "Did you even read the reports I gave you?"

He made a face; of course he had read the reports, the ones that said he had been found with blood pooling out of his ears and dribbling down his chin while lying in a puddle of his own piss. Of course he had read them but thinking about them was entirely different.

"Sorry," she said softly, reaching out to squeeze his fingers, "any word on when they'll be letting you out of here?"

He rolled his eyes at her not so subtle change of subject but accepted it anyway, "No. Mother said the healer was hoping for tomorrow-"

"Everyone is hoping for tomorrow Draco. You don't have to be such an arse to everyone here."

"I'm not-"

She raised an eyebrow and he shook his head, feigning innocence he knew she would never believe and smirking when she swatted at his arm.

"Don't you two look cozy," they both looked up, wide eyed at the figure that stood in the doorway.

"Ronald," Hermione breathed and Draco didn't miss the way she slowly pulled her hand away from his, resting it instead in her lap. "What are you doing here?"

"My job," the redhead said, his brow furrowed as he walked into the room and Draco swallowed as he saw another of Potter's lackey's enter behind him. The kid was young, Draco could remember his older brother from Hogwarts, but he looked worn and weathered. They had used to call them the 'Creepy' brothers then. Draco would never admit to anyone that he had attended the older boy's funeral just as he had Fred Weasley's.

"We need to speak with Mr. Malfoy," the weasel said, his eyes never leaving Draco and he saw Hermione shift out of the corner of his eye.

Before he could think about it, his hand shot out, catching her around the wrist and he nodded once to her before he turned back to the men before him, "Go ahead."

The weasel's jaw clenched but he nodded, his eyes hard as the other man stepped forward, setting down two photos before him. He heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath as the photo caught his eye and his stomach rolled uncomfortably as he fought back the urge to vomit.

The house elf was much the same as the others had been, but he knew this elf. Had seen it many times before when he visited during school holidays. The difference between this time and the others however was the body that lay mere inches away.

"No," he breathed, looking back at the weasel, if only to not have to look at that anymore.

Weasley nodded, "His girlfriend found him, you're listed as next of kin."

Draco blinked fiercely and dug his fingernails into his palm, the sting of pain enough to keep him level headed.

"How?" He wanted to ask more but he stopped, worried his voice would betray him. As if on Cue he felt Hermione's hand on his arm.

"Draco, I'm so sorry." She breathed and it was only then that he finally gave in, the hot tears rolling over his lashes as they trailed silently down his too cold cheeks.

Numb. Everything was numb.

"Hermione? May I speak with you?" Weasley said tensely as the remaining Creevey brother stepped forward, quill at the ready.

"May I get a statement from you Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, his eyes unseeing as the picture flashed before his eyes once more, despite no longer being in front of him. Of the house elf lying face up in a pool of blood and Blaise Zabini's lifeless form mere feet away.

His best friend was dead.

And he was alone.

HERMIONE
-Present-

She stood in the middle of the lavish guest room, decorated in hues of cream and brown, her small duffel bag opened on the large four poster bed before her. She should remember this or at least some tiny fragment of it but as she stared at her opulent surroundings all she can remember is the feeling of the cruciatus curse burning her to her core, completely ravaging her from the inside out as Draco Malfoy stood by in a corner.

"Are you alright?" Draco's worried voice sounded from the door and she nodded as she turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, his hands deep in his pockets.

She nodded, pushing away the unease as she gave him a small smile, "I'm fine."

He narrowed his eyes, walking slowly forward into the room as though waiting for her to pull her wand on him. "I think… I think it would work best if we didn't lie to each other."

She bit her lip before she finally nodded once more, "I don't remember this, any of it. I wish I could but I don't and all I can remember is…"

His eyes darkened slightly, no doubt understanding her unspoken words, "Come with me."

With that, he turned on his heel, walking back out of the door he had appeared through and down the hall. She hesitated only for a second before she was walking with him, taking note of their path as they walked down the hallway, a set of steps and finally, into the large and open room.

"This was the first place I had seen you, after you spoke for me at my trial-"

"I did?"

He smirked, "It wasn't much. Just that I had given you three a chance to escape. Potter's testimony really clenched the deal though. When you showed up here my mother had me bring you here, to this room. You hardly hesitated then. When I asked you later, why it didn't bother you to be here you said it was because it was just a room. That the evil that happened here was long dead and gone with a mad man and my lunatic aunt" he stepped forward, close enough to her that she could smell him and without her permission her body leaned into it slightly as though yearning to be closer. "This is our home Hermione, whether you remember it or not. I don't want you to be afraid of it, or me. All you have to do is ask."

His voice was low but sure and steady as he too leaned into her. She was hardly aware of the fact that his hand had reached out to grasp hers, his thumb running along the back of her hand, leaving the skin pebbled in its soft wake. She opened her mouth, ready to thank him, when the doors flung open and they both wheeled around as Leo bound into the room, Lyra hot on his heels.

"Mummy! You're home!" he shouted as he launched himself at her and she bent down just in time to catch him round the middle, pulling him in tight as she opened her other arm to her daughter.

She smiled against their hair as she kissed both their crowns, relishing in the soft scent of the children in her arms because no matter what, this is why she was coming back. Whether she remembered it or not, they were her family. They were her home.

DRACO
-PAST-

"Draco, you have to eat." His mother said sternly, though she lacked the usual emphasis as she pushed the tray closer to him.

He breathed in, the sound hollow, and he wondered if it was supposed to be him; if Blaise had died because he hadn't and the thought of that made him feel ill all over again.

"Draco-" it was Hermione's voice this time and he turned his eyes onto her worried brown ones. She had left with the weasel, her fiancé he reminded himself and hadn't returned until now.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, his throat scratchy and dull as he noticed the puffy, redness of her eyes.

"Really?" she hiccupped. "You're going to be worried about me right now?"

He shook his head, blinking his too tired eyes, "You left."

She looked to his mother, a silent conversation passing between them before his mother finally stood up, patting his arm once before she left the room.

"Draco, Ronald wants to close the case."

He blinked.

When he said nothing she continued on, "He feels that Blaise may have been responsible for the house elves deaths and that the guilt overtook him resulting in him to take his own-"

"Bullshit." He spat, his voice lethal as he cut her off and he saw her flinch away from him as he realized he had slammed his hand down on the tray.

"Draco-"

"Don't you dare try to defend that stupid git to me Granger, you bloody-"

"Stop!" she yelled, her own voice echoing over his as his argument died down, "I don't want to but I will cast a silencing charm on your face if you can't shut up for five seconds and listen to me."

Her gaze was stern as she waited and when he didn't argue she continued on.

"Something is up. With him. With that whole bloody department. I'm going to find out what it is."

"Ask Potter," he snarled, "The chosen one knows everything."

She shook her head, "That's the thing, Harry is up for a promotion and he's been working with the trainees recently. Ron took over most of the cases and something isn't right. I'm going to get to the bottom of it Draco but until then you have to eat. Blaise… he wouldn't want this."

It was a low blow, and she knew it, that much he could tell. But it worked as he pulled the soup towards him and slowly started spooning it into his mouth. Not tasting a thing as it went down.

HERMIONE
-Present-

Her first night in the manor was uneventful. She had helped Draco put the children to bed and retired to her room quickly after. She had ignored the soft knock on her door, her eyes clenched tight and her arms wrapped around her knees. She felt the cowardice as though it were a disease, spreading through her body quickly though and as she forced herself out of the bed to open the door, ignoring the hammering of her heart, only to find the hallway dark and empty by the time she had opened the door.

She tried to tell herself it wasn't relief she felt as she slid back into bed and closed her eyes.

Three hours later however and she was still awake, her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and she realized that sleep was futile as she slid out of the bed and wrapped herself in the soft blue robe that had appeared in her room when she had returned for the evening.

She padded down the hall, her wand lighting her path, and though she walked without aim or knowledge of the manor before her she wasn't the least bit surprised when she ended up in the library.

She was, however, surprised to find that it was already occupied.

"Oh, Hermione," Malfoy said as she appeared in the doorway and he quickly closed the book in his hands as he stood up from his place on the settee. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "couldn't sleep. I'm not bothering you am I?"

"What?" he looked down to the book in his hands, "No, not at all I'm… well I'm researching."

Moving closer she took note of the books strewn across the table as well as the files that seemed to litter the area. "These are the files Harry brought home…"

"Copies actually, but yes." He supplied and he sat back down, putting the yellow book in his lap. "I've made a list, of everyone affected by memory problems-"

"I've already done that-" she countered, moving towards the sofa and perching on the edge of the cushion.

"Yes, but you've only covered those who haven't had it broken. Or… successfully broken."

"That's because there haven't been."

He turned, a pale eyebrow raised and shook his head, turning the book to show her. "That's where you're wrong."

The book slid easily into her hands and her brow furrowed as she read the words before her. "Draco, this isn't a-"

"It is." He smiled as she read the words he had marked in the muggle book.

"But the healers said it wasn't-"

"The healers also said you may never be able to conceive but that turned out to be wrong."

"Well… wait, what?" she said, looking up at him in surprise.

She had known, of course she had known that she and Draco had at one point been intimate. The spoils of which were currently sleeping down the hallway, tucked safely in their beds. The idea that they had planned for children, however, was news to her.

"I shouldn't have said that," he sighed, his shoulders sagging as he reached up to run a hand down his face.

"You said before, that if I wanted to know, I just had to ask," she stated firmly, "I'm asking now. I want… I need to know more about them Draco. I need to know in case it never comes back."

She bit her lip to keep it from quivering as she thought about all she would miss. All she was missing, and finally, Draco nodded.

"We tried for a while, to have a child. It seemed that nothing was working. I was worried that it might have been me. There were… rumors, surrounding the purebloods. That we were dying off because we couldn't produce heirs. It made sense, seeing as my mother had lost so many… Anyway, we saw a healer and they said that because of what had happened to you. Here. That you may never be able to conceive, let alone carry a magical child to term."

"But they were wrong."

He smiled fondly, "They were. Not even a year later Leo was born."

She felt her heart squeeze and she nodded, "What was he like, when he was a baby?"

Draco was quiet, and for a moment, she was worried he wouldn't tell her but then he started speaking. He told her of the infant that hardly cried and of the nights he had crept into his nursery and plucked him from his cot just to hold him close, to feel his soft breaths. Of the precocious toddler who had walked early and spoken in full sentences at not even two years old. He talked of the little boy who loved his mother and often tried to use the floo to find her at work. She felt her eyes begin to grow heavy and it wasn't until they had closed, that she realized she had fallen asleep to Draco Malfoy's soothing voice.

When she woke next the sun was shining and she found herself back in her room, the library from the night before feeling more like a dream than a memory and as she dressed for work, she hoped that it wasn't.

A/N: Review?