Draco returned a few days later, bearing a few presents from friends who were still alive and contactable. Christmas was still less than a week away, but he didn't know when Hermione would be lucid again, and St. Mungo's had owled him today saying she had asked after him. He had been in the middle of a case meeting but had begged off and his superior, knowing full well what Draco had been going through the past few months, had agreed on the condition that Draco spend the whole day in the office tomorrow. Draco had raced down to the Ministry lobby, taking the first available fireplace. And now he was back in that cold fourth floor, carrying a measly few presents.
With his arms occupied, he used his foot to tap the door. Healer Hornby let him in.
"Oh, you've brought presents! That should cheer her up nicely," she exclaimed, stepping back so he could enter the ward. "She seems better today. At the very least, she knows she's married to you."
"Thank you for informing me," Draco replied, formal as always. The healer's shoes clacked across the ward as she went to open Hermione's door for him. Draco followed her, feeling the resentful glares of some residents as he passed by. He knew it was the Christmas presents. He'd had to endure this before, being hated for remembering. Many residents here were forgotten, or visited only once a year and even then it was half-hearted. Some didn't even have anyone on the outside to visit them, like Lockhart, though he barely remembered anything, that annoying git, so it didn't matter. (Lockhart was the only resident for whom Draco spared no pity.) He reached her door and, taking a deep breath, entered.
"Presents!" He was immediately greeted by Hermione's happy voice, and he visibly relaxed. He set the presents down on a side table and was suddenly enveloped by a warm pair of arms and a laugh. Relief filled him as he hugged her back, tightly. She was sane today.
"Where were you? I was waiting!" Eagerly she sorted through the small pile, looking at names. "Harry, Ginny, Molly, Ron… oh wow, even Fred and George! And Lupin and Tonks!" She laughed more, bringing them to her bed. Draco's heart sank. So she wasn't that lucid. She didn't remember. His sadness must have shown because Hermione, looking up at him, furrowed her brow. "Draco? Is something wrong?"
He mentally kicked himself. "No, nothing. I just… missed you." He forced a smile.
She stood up, went to him, threw her arms around his neck. "I missed you too."
His heart melted, and he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. He tried to push the sadness out of his mind. It wouldn't do to show despair today. Not when she was sane and happy. He tightened his hold on her, his eyes drawn to the still-unwrapped presents on her bed. He'd faked some of them, just in case this happened, just in case she didn't remember the deaths.
"Draco? You're hurting me." Surprised, he loosened his hold on her.
"I'm sorry, Hermione… I didn't realize." He looked down into those brown eyes, the wrinkles already forming around them, despite her still young age. Tentatively, he stroked her soft cheek. In response, she lifted her head to his and kissed him. He kissed her back, his rough, dry lips pressing against her soft, sweet ones. She tasted like strawberries. He felt her smile against him. Pulling back, he led her back to bed. "Your presents?"
She giggled at sat. "I'll start with… Harry's." Deftly she picked through the wrapper, not tearing anything. Draco had always laughed at her for that. He'd always argued with her that tearing through the wrapper was one of the joys of Christmas, but she said it felt like wasting paper. He'd made the mistake of answering back once, telling her that her four-foot-long History of Magic essays had been a waste of paper. She'd launched into a heated attack on the importance of academics and saving trees and he'd never teased her about it, ever again. Today, however, Draco only had a grim smile for both Hermione neatly unwrapping her gift and the memory. Too much had changed since then.
"A new book! Emotion-Related Potions: Their Histories, Uses and Antidotes. Oh, I've got to owl Harry to thank him for this!" Happily she went through the rest of the presents. A sweater and some homemade fudge from Mrs. Weasely. A couple of new products from Fred and George. A wizard charm bracelet from Ginny –the Color Change Charm version. (*) The beads on the charm flashed in different colors every few seconds, like Muggle Christmas lights. Lupin had sent some spell books, Tonks a book on Animagi. Finally, Hermione got to Ron's gift.
"Oh wow," she breathed, as she held up a simple gold heart on a chain. Touching the heart, she found it had hinges. "It's a locket." She smiled as she unfastened the chain. "This is beautiful. I should thank Ron next time I see him." But midway through wrapping the chain around her neck, her expression changed. It went from confusion to shock to anguish. "Ron," she choked out. Her fingers scrabbled at the chain around her neck. She turned to Draco. "What happened to Ron?" Her fingers gripped his wrist. "Where's Ron?" Her face was pale. Her mouth opened and closed without anything coming out. Her eyes widened and she stiffened. She started to convulse slightly, shudders running through her body. Draco drew back, ready to call a healer if necessary. But suddenly her eyes went vacant and her grip went slack and she started to collapse. Draco caught her before she could fall of the edge of the bed. Hoisting her up, he laid her on the bed and cleared off the presents, setting them on her bedside table. By the time he was done, he realized he was crying.
Trying to control himself, Draco sank into the armchair next to Hermione's bed. For a long while he sat there, next to her unconscious form, his head in his hands. After what felt like ages he got up and, with one last, long glance at his sleeping wife, he left the room.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy! How is she?" Healer Horny asked, looking up from her work.
"She was… all right. She's unconscious now, though. Probably asleep," he added, seeing the worried look that crossed the healer's face. "I think she just tired herself out from the excitement"
"All right then. Happy Holidays, Mr. Malfoy." The healer nodded and smiled at him. Malfoy simply nodded back and swept out of the room.
xxxxx
Back at his apartment, Draco threw his coat down on the couch and sat next to it, feeling dejected. He tried to cheer himself up by reminding himself that she had known who he was, but it didn't work. All he could remember were her convulsions, her anguish, her sudden loss of consciousness. He buried his face in his hands. It was too hard, being able to remember what happened when she barely did, rarely did. The war. The deaths of so many friends. Their budding relationship, so fragile that Draco had always been scared to make a move lest he shatter it. Tentative romance. And then their wedding. The short-lived honeymoon. Living together, talking about raising a family. And then her disappearance.
Draco shuddered, remembering how it felt. The anguish, the hopelessness. The anger at the Ministry for being unable to find her. Harry's visits, always finding him with a bottle of Firewhisky in hand, more often than not with many already on the floor. Not caring for himself anymore. And then the alarm that was raised when she turned up, out of the blue, in the lobby of St. Mungo's in the dark hours before dawn. It pained Draco to remember how quickly relief had changed into anguish once more. She had not remembered him, any of them –not in the recent times, at least. She had lashed out at him, calling him a pureblood prat, demanding an explanation from Harry as to why he and Draco were suddenly friends. And she had been wandless.
Nobody knew what had caused this. The healers, brilliant though they were touted to be, had come up with nothing. From what they could tell, it was very similar to a Muggle disease called Alsee- Alzai- Draco couldn't pronounce it. But she had been cursed, since they had detected trace amounts of magic around her. She had been in that fourth floor ward ever since.
A thump on his window broke through Draco's reminiscing and he jumped up, wand at ready. Instead of a human, though, he saw a slightly ruffled owl fly unsteadily back up to the glass and tap it with its foot. Warily, he pried open the window and let the owl in. It perched on the sill and held out its foot. Tied to the owl was a sizeable package, badly wrapped in brown paper. Draco recognized the handwriting on top as Kingsley's scrawl. The Minister's handwriting, he mentally corrected himself. Untying the package and giving the owl a few Knuts as a tip, he returned to the couch to examine the delivery.
Upon tearing open the wrapper, he discovered the bulky parcel contained a notebook, some items of jewelry, a few splinters of wood, and a few pieces of hair. Sifting through this, he also found a note, also in Kingsley's handwriting. Setting the other objects on his lap, he opened the note.
Draco-
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Auror Office have just agreed to release the evidence taken from Mrs. Hermione Malfoy (nee Granger) upon her arrival at St. Mungo's a few years ago. I apologize for the time lapse, but you of all people should be aware of the regulations regarding evidence in high priority, top-secret cases. They assume the splinters are pieces of her wand, since the wood matches her wand's description. The hair is also hers. The jewelry has undergone several tests that have fortunately not damaged any of them. I believe one of them is her engagement ring. The notebook was found around her neck, strung on a chain, magically shrunk. It has been identified as a diary of sorts, which I ordered be left untouched, out of respect for Hermione's privacy. You may read it at your discretion, but I implore you to report to me (or any Auror, for that matter) any information you deem pertinent to the search for Hermione's attackers.
My regards to Hermione should she remember me, and Happy Holidays.
Minister.
Draco picked up the ring, a simple gold band set with the solitaire diamond surrounded by brilliant green emeralds. It was indeed their engagement ring. Draco still remembered the night he had offered it to her. He set it down. It hurt to look at.
He brushed away the splinters and the hair, his curiosity turning on the diary. He had not been aware that Hermione had kept one. It looked worn, the binding wrinkled and peeling slightly, the pages tattered at the edges. Why had she been carrying it with her? He opened it carefully, afraid it might disintegrate in his hands.
This diary belongs to: Hermione Jean Granger.
Draco read the first page, noting the name that had been neatly printed into the blank. Granger. So they hadn't been married then. Turning to the first page, he read.
xxxxx
I don't know why I decided to keep a diary. I think it's because there's so much inside me, so many thoughts and feelings, that I can't share to anyone. I mean, I can talk to people. I can tell Harry and Ginny and (and here, Draco noted there was a name scratched out) and Draco, but it just isn't enough. It's gotten to the point where my heart and mind are so full of chaos I could never fully share it to anyone.
It's a month after the war ended. I'm in a spare room in Grimmauld Place. Harry's helping Ginny cook downstairs. Those who are left of us are trying to go on with life as much as we can. Molly's upstairs. She hasn't had the heart to do any housework ever since the deaths. I'm surprised Harry and Ginny have been able to act somewhat close to normal. No, wait. I'm not surprised. They've always been strong. I've tried to be, but there's only so much I can bear. I'm glad to be alone for a change. It's a different silence, a good silence. Not the silence of unspoken pity and grief.
I dreamt about the war again, last night. I've been dreaming about it so much. I don't think I can help it. My mind just keeps reliving every moment of that horrible day, when Hogwarts was attacked. I still shudder from the trauma. But perhaps writing it down will help.
We weren't prepared for the attack. After we'd returned to Hogwarts, we tried our best to warn everyone, put up defenses. It wasn't enough. Voldemort's army (shaky writing and smudged letters –she'd been crying? Draco wondered) came and it was all just too much. We were almost hopelessly outnumbered. There were Death Eaters everywhere and curses were flying and people were falling over. I saw Lupin go down and nearly screamed. Tonks went after his attacker and I didn't see what happened after. I was caught in a battle with another Death Eater, a young one. It was getting harder and harder to counter each curse as I saw friend after friend fall. A Gryffindor only a little younger than myself, whom I'd never really spoken to, fell to Bellatrix' killing curse. I saw her point her wand at Ginny and heard Mrs. Weasely's cry –NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH. I didn't stay to see the onslaught. I Stunned my assailant and ran upstairs, taking to higher ground in hopes of being able to hit better. But once I'd reached a landing a stray spell hit me and I fell, immobilized. The stone banisters of the castle temporarily hid me from enemies, but through the gaps I could see everything that was going on. I don't think I've ever known such hatred and despair since –being able to see all the chaos going around but unable to do anything about it. I struggled against the spell, but to no avail. I could only lie and watch.
It was a horrible sight. Harry was nowhere to be seen, being under his cloak. Mrs. Weasely took a jet of red light to her back and fell. Bellowing in rage, Ron took over her battle. Bellatrix only cackled and turned her wand on her new opponent. Ginny was fighting two Death Eaters at once, holding her ground, but I could see her weakening. Still, she was doing well. I watched as she shot a Bat Bogey Hex at both her opponents and laughed a little inside. Fred and George were throwing Weasely's Wizarding Wheezes products everywhere. Things exploded, powder wafted through the air, Death Eaters turned into canaries and piglets or started puking and breaking out into boils. But more and more people on our side were falling to the curses of Voldemort's allies. We weren't enough.
Kingsley appeared in my line of vision, battling three Death Eaters. He slashed the air before him and his attackers fell, bleeding. On the other side of the hall, Tonks had her back to a wall as five Death Eaters surrounded her. Fred hurled something their way and a puff of black smoke engulfed Tonks' assailants. Percy suddenly popped up and managed to stun two of them. Before he could do more, a jet of green light caught him squarely in the back. I don't think I could ever forget the expression on Fred's face as he saw his brother fall, the grin of triumph forever frozen on his face. My own heart felt like it had just been trampled by stampeding elephants. Percy couldn't be… No…
Fred jumped into the scene, shooting curses violently, determined to avenge Percy. One Death Eater after another fell to his wrath… I never thought I'd ever see Fred shoot a Killing Curse. But his brother's killer fell to a blast of green light. Suddenly, I felt a lightness and I found I could move again. Shaking my limbs, I stood up… only to see a sight that would forever be ingrained in my heart.
The sight of Ron falling to the ground, green light fading from Bellatrix' wand, a maniacal and triumphant grin spreading across her face.
I don't remember much of what I did after. I can remember the shock, the grief, which quickly morphed into anger at the sight of Bellatrix' cruel happiness. I remember seeing red, gripping my wand so tightly I thought I might break it, throwing myself over the banister, landing just a few feet away from the woman who ripped out my heart. I remember screaming and rage and wanting to obliterate her, curse her off the face of this earth. I don't know what I did to her. The next thing I remember after that are hands pulling me away from her bloodied, mangled, unmoving form.
(More smudged words. The handwriting here was shakier. Draco himself was crying, remembering how empty Hermione had seemed, those first months after the war. How dead she had been.) It was Draco. He had his arms around me, pulling me away from Bellatrix. I remember kicking at him, struggling to free myself so I could further damage that woman who had- who had- I can't say it. I don't even know why I'm still alive, still breathing, still thinking and feeling, when he's six feet underground and unable to do anything anymore. I don't know how anyone can function, when Ron's… gone. Seven year's he'd been by my side, loving me and caring for me and protecting me. I still can't bring myself to accept the fact that I won't ever see his mop of red hair anymore… won't ever hear his bad jokes, or watch him play wizard's chess, or let him copy off my work. I replay that image over and over in my head but I still can't face the reality that Ron… is dead.
There. I've written it down. Ripped open the wound in my heart that had already begun to scab slightly. Life is pouring out of me again, like blood.
Harry called a retreat, after that. Those of us who were left barricaded ourselves in the Room of Requirement. So few of us had been left. I scanned the room, looking for faces. Mrs. Weasely was sobbing on the floor, with Fred and George hugging her. To the side, Mr. Weasely was lying unmoving on the couch, but breathing. Ginny was in Harry's arms, her thin shoulders shaking. Tonks was nowhere to be found. Kingsley was nursing a cut shoulder. Neville sat with Luna's head on his lap, holding a bloodied piece of cloth to her forehead. Bill soothed a shaking, badly scratched Fleur, Charlie unconscious in front of them. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick stood to the side. No one knew where Hagrid was. A few more Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were scattered among the couches. It was hard to believe this was all we had left. These were all the people we had left.
Draco was the last to come. His left cheek had been cut, the blood trickling down to his robes. He paused, taking in the few remaining warriors. His eyes alighted on me and he walked toward me, a little hesitantly. He didn't speak, but simply placed a hand on my shoulder. I was grateful for his touch.
We climbed back into the portrait to Aberforth's bar, trudging through the tunnels in silence. We levitated the unconscious. Mrs. Weasely hadn't stopped crying. Fred and George looked like they were dead. Ginny was simply putting one foot in front of the other; she stared at the ground, unseeing. Draco had his arm around me. Most of the adults had stayed to bury the dead, having heard Voldemort's announcement that he was allowing us to collect him. McGonagall had promised to return with the bodies of those dearest to us. I didn't think I could stand seeing Ron's dead body a second time, but it would be a small mercy to be able to give him a proper funeral.
After seeing the students safely through the fireplace, where they would Floo home, we all returned to Grimmauld Place in silence. And here we are now. Grieving. Recuperating. And I'm writing this all down, even if it tears at my heart. I'm writing this, because I hope that one day we triumph, and I can look back at this and remember all the sacrifices that made the wizarding world a better place.
xxxxx
Draco closed the diary, his eyes hurting from reading as well as from crying. He rubbed angrily at his face. He didn't like to remember that day, the day he had exposed his betrayal to Voldemort and his family, the day he had fought alongside Hermione, not against her. After that he was as much as fugitive as they were. Feeling both emotionally and physically tired, he climbed upstairs to his bedroom, unable to bring himself to eat. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was asleep, falling prey to his dreams.
xxxxx
A/N.
Okay, I know this chapter was pretty intense, and a lot of you are probably stunned or very angry with me right now. Please don't be. I'm only writing what comes out of my head. Did I warn you that this fic would be dark? If I didn't, then I'm warning you now. It's going to be dark and very tragic, and Hermione's entries are only going to get worse (though there will be some good ones –if you choose to stick around, there'll be one of her wedding to Draco in the later chapters).
Also, about the (*)- having little knowledge of wizard jewelry, I have reinvented the typical charm bracelet, giving it a magical touch. By charm bracelet, I literally mean a charm bracelet: a bracelet containing a charm. In this case, the Color Change Charm. For example, if it contained the Cheering Charm, it would cause the wearer to be happy until taken off. Something like that.
R&R?