A/N: Happy Canada Day! (Yes, I'm Canadian). To all my American readers, happy early 4th of July. Be safe, don't drink and drive or I will hunt you down and whip your arse. So how was your week? Mine sucked because I've been working waaaay overtime. And my summer courses start again next week. Bummer.

To all of you who messaged me/reviewed asking after my mother – THANK YOU, I so appreciate it. She's doing very well now. Thank you as well to: Jade2099, semantics, weirdgiraffe, xenaz3, pardonnez, Alexybath, Rebekah, and JRRTFrk for reviewing.

Enjoy this chapter. You finally get to see why Draco is in the dream world.

Chapter 30: Salvation

Hermione:

We decided it would be best that the both of us take a day off of work for Draco's sake. For hours he could not bear to look at me and I really reconsidered my decision for divulging the secret I had been keeping from him for months.

But I came to the conclusion that after what Riddle had put my mind through... it was probably for the best that I kept no secrets from Draco. Sure, I didn't exactly tell him that I practically had had a threesome with the Dark Lord... but close enough. He really would've thought I was crazy had I told him exactly who was helping me figure out this prophecy.

Some secrets are better left unsaid.

But still, I felt guilty for including him in on the bigger picture. Did he really deserve to be put through the countdown to the exact moment when I would die? Even I had no idea when that would be or if it would be soon or rather years from now.

He seemed to have caved in on himself and I was afraid I had caused him to lose all of the time and effort he had spent in therapy. I knew that he had it in him to deal with this; I knew he could manage without me. All he had to do was process it, that's all. It would be okay. He would pick himself up as he always did in the end, and help me work out the finer intricacies of fate.

But as the hours slowly ticked by and he refused to even look up at me lest I magically disappear out of his arms, I began to lose hope. By the time the sun had set I was contemplating going to the dream world just to kick Riddle's dead arse.

Hours into the night, he finally spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"What are we going to do?"

I was startled at first. Allowing myself to sit up, but with his arms still firmly closed around me, I attempted to place his features in the dark. "We're going to figure out what I was meant to do and we're going to be happy. I'm not going anywhere, Draco."

But he hushed me before I could add anything else.

"What about this other world of yours?"

Pressing my hand to his cheek, I felt the light stubble that had grown there. In the light you'd barely be able to see it, it was that light in colour, but with his face in my hands I knew it was there. I kissed his cheek and felt him tense.

"What about it?" I asked, sighing at the contact.

"I don't want you to go there anymore."

That gave me pause. I wasn't certain if he was being serious or if this was just a reaction to the news. Either way, he had to understand that this was something I had to do. It wasn't an option. Fate wanted us to do it, and people who go against fate always end up on the wrong side of the tracks. Or more accurately, on the tracks themselves.

"Draco," I started with complete intentions of attempting to persuade him otherwise, but he beat me to it.

"Hermione, you're not going to meddle in this business anymore, do you understand? I've lost enough people in my life time. I'm not going to lose you too! Do you hear me? I've seen enough!"

I didn't know what to say. I could feel him breathing roughly, his breath coming out in short huffs. He was being absolutely serious and he was genuinely afraid. Draco Malfoy was a Machiavellian at heart and nothing got in his way from keeping his kingdom safe. I was not to go back to my dream world and that was that.

"But Draco –"

"No."

"Draco, I –"

"No."

"But you're there, Draco. You're there," I finally said, exasperated.

I hadn't meant to divulge that information, honestly I hadn't. It had just slipped out as a last minute defence.

"What do you mean, I'm there?" he questioned, harshly. He hadn't realized that we had wandered into dangerous territory yet. I just looked away, glad that the room had no light in it so he couldn't see my expression. "Hermione, answer me."

"It's okay... um. Okay. I won't go back there."

But he wasn't to be dissuaded.

"What did you mean, I'm there?" he enquired again, more softly this time. I could hear an edge of fear to his voice this time around. "No. Don't try to get out of it, just tell me for godsakes. I... I deserve to know."

So I did. I had no choice.

"Well... a part of your soul. Well, it's in that world, Draco. But it's okay. It's... not going to make a difference, okay?"

But no matter what I would say, nothing would soothe him from what I had just told him. I wished he'd hate me for it, but I knew he was too kind for that. No, he'd only hate himself.

Because I'd confirmed his worst fears. Everything that he had gone through, everything that he had done in the war had left him damaged and this was proof for him. He was no longer a human in his own eyes. For what kind of human was able to do the things he had done?

I felt like I was going to be sick. I had singlehandedly destroyed him. It wouldn't matter if I told him a million times that it wasn't his fault. It wouldn't matter if I told him I loved him. I had just given him self destruction and a just cause for self hate.

If there was anything I had learned from the aftermath of the war, it was that people needed to speak of their experiences, live them and let them live.

Experiences like that were not meant to be horded, especially the kind Draco hid from me. Of course, he had given me a cursory glance, yes. He had thought I deserved as much... but this, this was a secret that he had kept with him. Close to his heart. If he didn't let it go, it would destroy him. Especially now that he thought of himself as a sinner.

"Tell me, Draco," I whispered to him.

But instead of confessing what was on his mind, he pulled away from me so abruptly I almost fell. "Tell you what?" he nearly shouted. "You don't need to know anything. After all, you're the one who keeps secrets around here!"

"Draco, I just want to help! It'll help you, trust me, just...come here," I urged him. Getting up from my spot on the bed, I took a few tentative steps towards him but all he did was move away until his back was pressed against the door. "It's okay to tell me," I almost whispered.

He shook his head. "You don't deserve to know."

His voice was tortured, his eyes wild. I could literally feel his nerves fraying and knew that if I pushed him any further, he would snap. I was afraid for him. When I made to come closer, he shook his head, opened the door of our bedroom and slipped through.

And with that, he was gone.

/

That week, Draco didn't come home during the evenings.

While I would briefly see him at work, it was quite obvious he was avoiding me. Why he felt the need to carry it out to this extent, I will never know. I didn't even want to know why a part of his soul was gone. I was content to live without that information. And when Hermione Granger is willing to part with knowledge, you should know it's for an important reason.

It was for an important reason. I missed him. It was like an aching in my chest that refused to subside. I felt like a fool for bringing something up that was obviously too painful for him to discuss. I cursed my big mouth for not controlling itself... I was sorry, but he wouldn't give me the opportunity to fix it.

It was like that month of madness all over again, where he would barely acknowledge me. Yet, this time it was worse. He knew exactly who I was, he was aware of everything around him. He was married to me and he could not bear to look at me. But this time, it was my fault. All my fault.

I knew he hated me, for the moment. He had every right to despise me...

I knew he acted like he was alright. He was staying with Harry at Grimmauld place and Harry assured me that he was acting as normal as could be... but this was not normal.

This was hell.

Rather than force him to associate himself with me, I just waited. It was better that way. Of course, this time around it was quite a lot better because I had all of my friends here and no reason to hide from them that Draco and I were...fighting.

I was told all couples had such moments, I shouldn't worry.

I wasn't worrying, no. But I went to bed lonely and woke up lonelier without him there. And for the first time, I regretted telling him something about me. And I wished that maybe, just maybe, fate did not exist but just a large number of coincidences.

Unfortunately for me, I was proven wrong.

Draco:

It was not easy to walk around or be stealthy in Death Eater robes. Was that why You Know Who liked them? He commands attention, he trusts no one, and he goes in with a bang...

Shivering, I stood behind several hooded figures that blocked my view. That was good. I wasn't anxious to look at another muggle being tortured and mercilessly killed. But the thought of them dying like rats made bile rise in my throat. I could hear them clearly, of course. They were only a few feet away.

I was too much of a coward to do anything, though. So I just stood there.

This was his pastime. He actually enjoyed this. It was a sport – muggle hunting. It wasn't that he hated muggles, I eventually realized. After all, he hunted muggles, half bloods and purebloods alike. He was just a sick psychopath and I was too much of a coward to do anything but go along with it.

I had learned very early that if I did what was asked of me – which was very little – all I had to do was stand there and look inconspicuous and I would be left alone.

It worked well enough. Most of the time...

I was not so lucky that day. We were in a small muggle village, one that I could barely even recall the name of. The bloodshed was massive and the casualties worse. I found that if I didn't look, if I didn't pay attention, I could freeze my emotions. I could not feel so sick of everything going around me. But the Dark Lord can sense weakness. He can smell if off you.

And the Dark Lord is not forgiving of weakness.

He called me forward. It was simply a bored gesture, just a beckoning of his disfigured hand. But still, silence fell among his followers like a hush and I walked through the bodies blocking my way towards him in trepidation. All that could be heard were whimpers and pleading from the victims.

They were largely ignored.

As I kneeled before him, I saw the open eyes of a very dead muggle staring up at me from just a few feet away. I could probably have touched him, he lay so close. Blood bubbled up from his mouth. He was very much dead, rivers of life flowing out of him. Was he so different from a wizard? Was he any different than I was? I knew if I had been tortured like that, my blood would flow just the same.

Briefly, an image flickered through my mind. A forest hiding a massive Quidditch Arena from view. Death Eaters amusing themselves by torturing the muggles that ran a campsite... And myself, telling Granger to keep her head down. Had I known all those years back that blood didn't make a difference?

I had known. I was exactly like the dead muggle lying on the ground.

But we were not the same. We were worlds different. He had stood there to defend his family against a threat he knew he could not win against, a family that was kneeling and morning his dead body near me. I, on the other hand, was a coward.

"Rise, Draco Malfoy," I heard my worst nightmare hiss.

I rose. He gestured towards the muggle family before us. I heard him whisper a spell and with a flash of green light, the mother was dead. A little boy who couldn't have been more than three stared up at us, a little scared but mostly just confused. He didn't understand what was happening. He was too innocent.

But of course, the Dark Lord frightened him. He scampered towards me. I could hear the Death Eaters laugh at the action. The little boy with chocolate hair and big bright eyes hid behind my legs. Didn't he know I couldn't save him? I couldn't save anyone, not even myself.

The Dark Lord was bored. He gestured at the boy. "Dispose of the vermin," he said, his tone careless.

Dread seeped through me, and fear was what consumed my thoughts. I couldn't kill this boy. I couldn't. He was pure... angelic... he was life. I could feel him clutching at the leg of my trousers. I wished for him to understand. He needed to run now.

But he stayed right there, right in the claws of danger.

I could hear my master sigh impatiently when I made no move to fulfill his orders. With a snap of his fingers, two death eaters dragged one of their own before us. Pulling down the hood, I found it was my mother. I could see the fear of a trapped animal in her eyes, but she stood there proud, confidant that her son had it in him to be a killer. I was not a killer. I was not a killer...

I am not a killer.

But soon, the Dark Lord snapped his fingers again, and I had no choice but to move the little innocent child away from my legs and mutter the one spell I knew would leave me damaged forever.

"Avada Kedavra."

/

I woke up gasping, glad that I had not screamed.

Sweating, I looked towards the side table and found that the clock read just past four in the morning. Sighing, I fell back down towards the pillows and sheets of Potter's newly refurbished house. My silencing charm had worn off by now, I realized. I could hear Harry and Ginny whispering to each other from the other side of the wall.

I knew they were talking about me. I knew they were concerned, of course. It's not every day a Malfoy comes to stay with you, has nightmares and has you swear not to divulge that information to his beloved wife.

Fancy that. A Malfoy having friends and love. Wonders will never cease.

Eventually, Harry and Ginny quieted down once more and I lay there staring at the ceiling. The remnants of the dream – no, memory – were still clinging to my mind. The images, which would always be there, refused to leave.

Luna had said that this was a natural process. She had said I would have to let go eventually.

I was ready to let go but they wouldn't let go of me. But of course, a part of me could never let go of them, specifically the little boy that haunted my dreams. My soul was split and they were clinging onto it for me. He was most likely there, the little boy, in Hermione's other world. He was there, I could feel it. And I knew he would be asking my soul questions.

It was what I deserved. I knew the past would never leave me be. But I knew it was time to go home. I knew I couldn't run away from it forever. But frankly, I realized just then that I was selfish. I couldn't suffer through this without Hermione anymore. I wanted her to tell me that it was going to be alright in that stubborn know it all way she had. I wanted her to know that I was sorry for it all.

She had to know that I wasn't a killer.

But mostly, I had just worked up the courage to ask her if she had indeed seen a little boy running around in the afterlife. It was essential that I knew he was alright. I would do anything for her if she could just do this one thing for me...

Besides that, I was tired of hearing Harry Potter have sex with his wife through paper thin walls.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, even if it was well past four in the morning by now, I got up and packed my things. With the help of my wand, I was finished in under a minute and scribbling a note to the Potters to thank them for their kindness.

Apparating home, I made conscious effort to be quiet. It was late. Not only would the neighbours be sleeping, but Hermione most likely was as well. But I was glad to be home, finally. As nice as Potter claimed his house to be – I would always love this place. This was where Hermione and I had worked to create... home.

When I slipped in the door silently, I found Hermione sitting in an armchair, her body highlighted in the moonlight. There was a blank expression on her face. She didn't even look up to acknowledge me, but just sat there with a hand over a stomach and the other dangling over the edge of the couch, holding a piece of parchment.

Perhaps she hadn't heard me come in.

"Hermione?" I called. Putting my bag down onto the floor, I sat in front of her, perched on the coffee table.

"You were right," I told her. "It's not appropriate to run from my problems anymore. I shouldn't have, but... love? Are you alright?"

But she didn't answer me.

Instead, as if just realizing I was there, she handed me the piece of parchment that she had been clutching. It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the light and another minute for the letters on the page to stop moving.

What I found on the page made my knees hit the floor. I couldn't help but find that there were tears in my eyes. I pressed my head against her lap, and whispered a strangled thank you. I must have muttered a lot of nonsense, but this was salvation.

And so we remained in our positions, her bent over me, clutching me to her and me with my arms around her protectively. The letter fluttered to the floor and lay innocently, a little crumpled, but clearly visible by the moonlight that was streaming through the windows, should anyone wish to read it.

Mrs. Malfoy,

We are pleased to inform you that your pregnancy test results returned positive. Congratulations. We advise you to return to St. Mungos for a counselling session with your healer.

Thank you,

Patrichia Salkins,

Head Healer. St. Mungos.

A/N: I UPDATED MY PROFILE – go look if you care. : )

Unsigned Reviews

Alexybath: I had been planning on doing something to show Riddle's intentions, and your input just spurred me on to be extra dramatic. So thank you! You rock my life pretty hard too. ;)

Rebekah: I'm glad you're enjoying! I really think he's not such a bad guy in general (Who doesn't like a bratty blond kid after all?) And no worries about unsigned reviews. I just enjoy responding and it's just easier if I know what to call you. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!