A/n: Shoot. ShouldI kill myself now?

Darn it. I'm too busy even for myself these past few months.

I have literally lost this story, I know it.

But after fixing up 2 concerts and 1 grand opening, (for a special event at school) I am back.

But damn it, more is coming up. And I am so sorry.

I should kick back and loose some. I sure need it now.

Anyways, I apologize, even if I don't have the face to apologize to you guys again.

I'm always apologizing. But I can't keep track of my time always. Darn it. Even at weekends Ihave to work for school.

They sure trusted the wrong person.

I'm really sorry.

By: Aningme

Chapter 9

Dilemma: The Sequel

Mrs. Dubley kept watch on Hermione's door for the whole night. She couldn't stand it leaving Draco all alone in the room with Hermione, doing nothing but sit on a stool and hold her hand. He wasn't sleeping, he wasn't eating, he wasn't doing anything but watch her.

She tried to coax him into sleeping on the provided couch of the room. It was one of the best suites they had. It was all complete with a television set; a functioning bathroom with an adjoining shower cubicle; and a small kitchen composed of three counters, a fridge, a stove, and a sink; all that money could buy.

It could be practically comparable with an apartment unit. But he didn't touch anything. All he needed was a stool-he smiled at her-and he was all set.

She was definitely worried about Hermione and their child. But hell, she was worried about him too.

It was already five am by her watch and she gave the door a little knock.

"May I come in?" She muttered.

Draco nearly jerked on his seat, but casually glanced at Mrs. Dubley. "Of course." He stood up to offer her a seat on the couch, practically the first time he actually moved from that damn stool. He felt the short groan of pain climbing up at his back and neck. "I suppose you would want a drink or something?"

"Me?" Mrs. Dubley raised her brows. "I suppose you do, Mr. Malfoy. You didn't eat anything last night and didn't sleep either. Do you think she'll be happy if he knew you're torturing yourself?" She remained standing, leveling their composure. She won't take a damn seat in that comfy sofa if he didn't. "Go on home and I'll take care of her. She'll be fine especially if you are."

Draco turned to Hermione and watched her lifeless body. "I can't leave her here all alone. I'd want to be here when she wakes up."

She felt it, the tug of misery, of guilt, of anger. And of pain. He had told her about everything. She was so damn joyful with the news of Narcissa being thrown into the pit hole of Azkaban. But, even so, it didn't make any difference. "Well, if you wouldn't leave, then take even a cat nap."

He smiled at Mrs. Dubley. "Darlene, your worrying is exceptional. But I can hold just fine."

She cocked a brow in suspicion. "Wearing yourself out is what you call holding out just fine?"

Draco just stared at her innocently.

She sighed at him and gave up. "I'll send up some breakfast for you. You must eat, Mr. Malfoy. I want those plates empty when I check up on both of you again."

"Darlene, it has been indeed a while. You could call me Draco, if you like."

"Draco. Alright then." She smiled at him, studying the dark shadows in his eyes, and his pale face. "I'll leave you on then." She turned on the door, but turned back a glance. "Eat, alright? I don't want another patient worrying me."

He grinned at her back and sighed. She sure was acting like a mother.

Checking on his wrist unit, it was five oh five. He smiled and turned to Hermione, grabbing her hand and holding it to his lips. "Ten minutes to five fifteen Herm. You'll wake up by then, wouldn't you?" He whispered, closing his eyes. "Wouldn't you?"

She was freezing cold on the cold stone floor, her body sprawled over it. She wanted to curl up and close her eyes, praying to escape, and fly away from the darkness. She couldn't see anything, she couldn't move, she couldn't even wipe the tears and gore on her face. She felt so helpless, her screams going nowhere, sinking in into the endless walls of the room.

She just wanted to wake up, seemingly her only escape. And perhaps, this nightmare might end, and bring her back to reality.

But before she completely flew away to another abyss, she suddenly felt the warmth of the hands holding her legs. Startled, she tried to look down, only managing to make her eyes move. If only she could move, she would have jerked hardly, seeing the bright light emitting down her feet. It was glowing with a blinding flash, making her eyes sore. Closing her eyes, she could still see the brightness and the intensity of the light, and those hands were now climbing up to her torso.

She suddenly felt the warmth of the body pressing against hers.

Abruptly opening her eyes in bewilderment, she felt her heart bang against the walls of her chest, as fear dominated her, seeing the face of the light staring right at her face. She could only see his mouth, curved slightly into a smile, and his golden hair falling across his cheeks. His hands were on her face now, caressing her, and wiping away the tears that had been falling. And surprising her, he leaned over her and kissed her just ever so gently.

"You'll wake up by then, wouldn't you?" he whispered to her, his voice sounding so melodious in her ears. "Wouldn't you?"

Struggling to see his face, Hermione only saw his silver eyes staring at her before everything detonated into a white light.

He suddenly jerked on the stool, abruptly jumping out of his dreamless sleep. It had been hours since he sat on that stool and waited. Waited and waited, just to see her wake up again. He glanced on his wrist watch, reading seven thirty in the morning, then turned to the table across the bed, noticing the fresh eggs and ham on a tray. He smiled at that, thinking of Mrs. Dubley, and sighed in exhaustion. He gave in to the cup of coffee steaming beside the tray and sipped some, knowing it would be as stale as hospital coffee should be. He shrugged and just considered, and almost dropped the cup to shatter on the floor.

His hand shook, his breath broke, as he saw Hermione's eyes opened, staring blankly on the ceiling. Tears were flowing out of them, and her body shook violently against the bed.

In a dead run, he lunged towards her and held her.

"Hermione…" He tried to call her, snapped her back to him. "Hermione. Look at me. Look at me."

"Sir," Harvey hurried to the door, startled with the commotion.

"Call Darlene. Now." Draco snapped and held on to her. "Hermione. Hermione please… look at me…"

Her eyes suddenly dragged unto him, tears still drowning them.

"Herm…" Tears were starting to sting at his eyes. "Come back to me…"

She just stared at him. "Who are you?"

Mrs. Dubley suddenly barged in with a group of nurses and urged Draco to step back from her, and let them examine her.

He hesitantly did so, and stayed back as doctors swarmed in too and stuck needles and countless tubes in her.

He didn't know what to feel, what to think, hearing those painful words…

Who are you?

She doesn't know… She doesn't remember… He thought, his world slowly breaking into pieces.

How would she love him if she didn't know him?

How would she know that he is her husband?

And that the child in her was theirs?

"No…" She was moaning now, shivering, and wide eyed among the sea of strangers. "Who are you? What's happening!"

"She's in shock." A nurse declared, checking her heart beat, which was going faster and faster. "We need to restrain her."

"Do I know you? Should I know you! What are you doing!"

He couldn't bear to watch her, he couldn't…

"She's scared." He pointed out to them, trying to stop them. "Damn it, she's scared."

Mrs. Dubley stepped back from procedures and walked to Draco. "I'll take care of her, Draco. You must go out first for some fresh air." She tried on a smile. "You don't need to watch this."

"I sure do." He pointed out, his voice softening, going terribly quiet. "I have to be here."

"No, you—"

"I have to be here." He repeated and sighed. "I need to be here."

She knew how traumatizing it would be for him. She had saw lots of cases of Alzheimer's and, it wasn't pretty.

Though this is different, it looks pretty much the same.

Oh how the curse of memory loss infuriate her.

"Alright." She nodded, amidst the screams and protests of Hermione. They were pinning her down the bed, restraining her. "I just want you to know that I know what we're doing."

"I know." Draco muttered, staring back at her. He looked so calm on the outside. But her voice… her screams... it shook him to the bones. "I know."

Nodding at that, she glanced at Harvey and turned back to her work.

Harvey watched and observed how they restrained her, monitored her, like some guinea pig in a lab. He could feel his own temper on the edge just watching them, forcing her down, and calming her.

He glanced at his own master and studied him.

His face was cool, just as always. He hid his emotions in the comfort of his cold bland stare, perfectly masking it with blankness present on his face. But the slight tension on his stance, his shoulders, and of his fisted hands, he knew.

There would be anger, or somehow pain, and guilt.

He just hoped his master knew it wasn't him to be blamed for this.

No matter what is about to happen.

"She's good." Mrs. Dubley uttered, as they were left alone again by the nurses and doctors. "She's unconscious right now, but I'm not sure if we could interrogate with her when she wakes up or…"

"She doesn't remember." He cut her off, not hearing whatever she said. "She doesn't remember me."

Mrs. Dubley stared at him, and tried to hold herself from breaking into tears. "No. She doesn't remember anything."

"How can I let her remember everything?" He asked, as if she had the answer. "How can I tell her? How can I…"

"She wouldn't understand it all as yet. But, whatever happens, she still needs you badly, Draco." She reminded him, and stepped closer to pat his shoulder. "She may not remember anything as of now. But you are her husband for better or for worse."

He smiled at that and walked up to her. "Thank you."

She smiled and nodded. "It's nothing. We all love her, don't we?"

After a few threats and retorts from Harvey, Draco finally gave in and walked out of the hospital for fresh air. He needed it, they all said, and it might calm the nerves down.

Damn nerves, He mused, and walked to his convertible and drove away.

He didn't have anywhere to go. No places to sit and stare.

Everywhere he went, he sees her.

He'd remember the days when they walked through the streets just for a morning exercise. He'd remember the small talks with her in a small café nearby, or an ice cream parlor where they shared strawberry ice cream, or a bench in the park where they'd fight and laugh afterwards.

He abstractly smiled at that, his lips curving just a little.

But as those memories crept up on him, the more he felt his anger flicker. He gripped hard on the wheel and swiveled the car to a sharp turn, deciding to drive by their home.

Merlin, how would he go home to that house without her?

It was his before, that great mass of metal, concrete, marble and wood.

But it was hers as much as it was his now.

He'd give everything to her, every single thing he owned.

But that doesn't matter to her at all.

She never cared about his money, which amused him too.

But hell, does she even know she lives in that palace he built to be their home?

He stormed inside through the parlor, and walked directly to the elevator. Everything looked the same, every single room glamorous and grand the way he wanted it. But even so, the aura changed. It became heavier, colder, and dead.

Damn it, he didn't know if he could lift that heavy cloud away. What if she comes back, will it all go?

But primarily, will she come back to this house?

Good morning, Malfoy.

He just stared at the built in screen of the shaft, listening intently to the voice of his wife…

Please state your destination.

"Pool. West wing."

Have a good day.

He could use a few laps on the pool, and a little work out in the work out room. He wanted to beat something up, kick something.

Hell, he couldn't contain the heat simmering inside him.

Finishing up twenty laps in the pool, he climbed out of the pool and walked to the adjoining door to the work out room. He took a fresh shirt and went for the big punching bag.

He held his gloves for a few moments and decided to throw it away.

Raging to kill, he smashed skin to leather, bruising his hands, knuckles, wearing it out.

One, two, three forceful strikes and the bag threatened to snap from its iron chain.

He hit it again, and again, and again, ignoring and feeling numb with the seeping pain on his hands. He ignored the blood spattering on the cushioned floor, staining the leather of the bag.

After tearing up the bag, snapping it from the chain covered in blood, he felt empty and frustrated.

He just stood there, his heavy breathing ragged, and stared at the pitiful bag seemingly ravaged by a storm.

Ron stared at Draco, his face flushed in heat and anger, his body sheened with sweat. He stood over a tattered punching bag, his hands bleeding terribly, staining the floor. But with all the heat and rage, his eyes were terribly cold. He just stared at the helpless bag, seemingly melting it with his steely eyes.

Ron slowly walked over and spoke. "Some work out you had."

Draco turned to him, his face composed, but tired. "I could use the workout."

"So it seemed." Ron replied, handing him a towel. "Need a help with those hands?"

Draco stared down at his hands covered with blood and took the towel. "I can handle it, thanks."

"You know, that's what those gloves are made for." Ron pointed out to the deserted gloves nearby the bag and walked over a bench to sit. "You ruined your hands pretty good."

"I'd like to work out the way I want to." Draco muttered, walking to a counter and grabbing a cold bottle of water. "How did you find me?"

Ron sighed. "There's your useful butler and your house scanner." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Look, Malfoy, you don't need to beat yourself up on it."

"I'm coping up just fine."

"Bull. Just bull." Ron amended and shook his head. "Look at you. You're a mess."

"I know how to deal with myself."

"Things happen, Malfoy. All we could do is just face it."

"I face it the way I please." Draco snapped, his temper going near the edge. But he just turned to Ron and nudged a hip on the counter ever so casually. "We all do things differently, Weasley."

"I had a chat with Mrs. Dubley. You barely sleep and eat. Do you think Hermione would want that?"

"She'd want nothing." He retorted, his voice gone threateningly soft. "A bleeding knuckle of a stranger wouldn't worry her."

"You're not a damn stranger, are you?" Ron stood up. "Damn it Malfoy, you're her frigging husband."

"She doesn't remember me." Draco pointed out. "She doesn't know who the hell I am."

"Nor would she remember me." Ron added. "We can't change that. She can't remember everyone, or anything. She might not even know what Hogwarts is."

Draco just studied him and sipped his bottle of water. He could feel his rage clawing inside his chest. "Nor would she know there is a child sleeping in her. I fucking know that, Weasley. What do you want me to do about it?"

Ron stared at him, disbelief present on his face. "You don't fucking know what to do?" He took steps closer to him, closing the distance. "I thought you'd know better."

"You think you do?" Draco hissed.

"You're not the only one hurting here, Malfoy. We all do. Don't be such an inane git, beating yourself around. She fucking needs you."

"I won't leave her, Weasley. I would never leave her."

"You better not. Because if you fucking do, I'll kick your sorry arse to pieces."

"Oh yeah? Show me what you got, Weasel. I'll crush your skull under my foot before you even get the chance to kick my arse."

"Want to take this outside?"

"I was thinking here is much convenient."

In a flash, they were after each other. Draco got a good punch on Ron's jaw, ignoring the burning pain of his hands. Ron maneuvered on the second strike and jabbed an elbow on Draco's gut, pinning him on the ground.

"You think you're too good for me." Ron spat, his fists grabbing at Draco's shirt.

Draco just stared back at him. "You haven't seen nothing yet." In a quick move, Draco crunched Ron's back with his knee, getting him off guard, and turning the position around. Draco stared down at Ron. "I bloody know what I'm doing. I can beat myself whenever and however I want to. But that doesn't mean I don't give abuggering damn about her."

"You're still the same asshole I know." Ron shot out a fist, hitting Draco's jaw.

"Likewise." Draco jabbed his elbow on his windpipe.

Tears slightly building up in his lids due to lack of oxygen, Ron stared at Draco. "I love her, Malfoy. She's my best friend for most of my life. And I expect you to take care of her the way I trusted you to when you said your vows."

"I love her too, Weasley. Maybe much more than you do. You might have spent most of your lives together, but I can't live without her. I need her as much as you claim she needs me." He mumbled, releasing his hold on Ron's throat. "I'll do everything to bring her back. I'd even give my life…" He stood up and stared down at him. "I would make her fall in love with me again if I have to."

"That's what I needed to hear." Ron grinned, getting on his feet. "Welcome back, Malfoy."

A/n: I'm really sorry guys...