AU An attack leaves Hermione Granger in a six month coma. Yet when she wakes up alone and not remembering anything, everything is changed and everyone she ever cared for is gone. She too was thought to be dead untill she stumbled into an old foe in her search for answers. She finds herself in a world where half of London has practically been destroyed, and wizarding England is under the vicious rule of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Why is she still alive? What part will she be forced to play in Voldemort's sinister plot? Will she be able to piece the scattered shards of the past six months together before it is too late? And most importantly, what part does Draco Malfoy play in all of this?

Rated M for violence, language, abuse and sexual content. Those who are easily offended have been warned! Overall this will be a very dark fic!

Hope you enjoy!

Uncertain Circumstances

Chapter 1: Alive

Amber eyes shot open with a start, followed by a sharp, almost excruciating intake of breath. Her pupils shrank to adjust to the sudden wave of light.

Then came the coughing.

After a few minute passed and she had calmed down, she slowly started to look at the surroundings, her mind still blank. She lay on a hospital bed. Various wires were attached to her arms and chest that connected to different medical equipment. However, everything was shut off in the room, blanketed by a not so thin layer of dust.

She struggled to get up, however, almost immediately she fell backwards. Only then did the overwhelming physical pain wash over her, in powerful waves. She could barely raise her head without spikes of pain shooting up her spine. Her muscles were tender, as if due to lack of use.

She frantically began to search the room with her gaze, as if desperately hoping to find an answer. However, only more questions began to flood her already numb brain.

Why was she here?

What had happened to her?

Where was everyone?

Millions of other trivial questions followed, but one particular query made the torrent in her mind come to an abrupt halt.

Who was she?

This one question she kept asking herself, over and over again, however, no answer came to mind.

She didn't know.

She didn't remember…

Gingerly, she once again tried to sit up. It took great effort, nonetheless, after a few very long minutes, she was able to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Her bare feet came in contact with the cold tiles on the floor. The sensation was almost overwhelming. The cold surface slightly cooled down the boiling pain surging through her veins.

She ripped off all the wires attached to her body, seeing no use for them. However, now came the challenge of standing up. She placed her arms on a metal pole used to hold up some of the wires that has previously been attached to her body. Curling her fingers around the pole, she slowly began lifting herself upwards, desperately trying to forget the soreness she felt.

Her body was numb from lack of use; she could still feel the strain on her tender muscles. She clung to the pole for dear life as she forced her body to respond. Her breathing came in short ragged breaths due to the current strain she was under. Once she had successfully pulled herself in a somewhat upright position, she began inspecting the room with her almost hawk like gaze.

She noted that she was wearing only a green hospital gown, and nothing else. The room was fairly large, with beds identical to her own spread around it. However, there was no one else in these beds. Medical cabinets holding supplies of all sorts lined one wall of the room. Apart from these few items, however, the room was very vacant and clinical looking.

The only light came from a sole window that overlooked a city. She slowly started to make her way towards the window, tightly holding on to the metal pole, which was her only support. As she neared the window, she gasped in horror.

The sight was that of ironic desolation as the last few rays of afternoon light flooded a seemingly abandoned city. No cars or people littered the streets. Some shop windows were perfectly stocked while others lay in ruins, destroyed by what might have been giant explosions. Momentarily she had forgotten the pain that she was in, as she gawked at the peculiar sight that greeted her eyes.

Had there been a war here? An epidemic? What else could explain the eerie scene?

Not only did she not know who she was or what she was doing there, there didn't seem to be anyone around to answer said questions. Slowly, she turned around, and glanced around the room in search of some clues.

Only then did she see the side table next to her bed upon which there were a few vases filled with flowers.

Dead flowers.

On a chair next to her bed, she spotted a set of neatly folded clothes. She started making her way towards the chair, deciding upon trying to dress herself for future exploration of the current situation. She gingerly sat on the bed and reached out for the clothing. As she did so, a thin wooden stick fell from within the folds of the clothing. She struggled to pick it up and inspect it. As she gripped the thin piece of wood, images began to flood her brain.

Images of green light and screaming.

People were screaming and running around her. It was chaos. The deathly familiar flashes of emerald light surged through the air, striking anyone in their path.

A black hooded figure approached her.


"Expelliarmus!" she screamed, interrupting the figure whose wand immediately flew out of reach. "Levicorpus!" she continued, causing the hooded person to rise in the air, being held by some unseen force.

She fell back on the bed, almost knocked out by the vivid image. She still held the thin wooden piece.

The wand. Yes. It was a wand, she remembered now. And she was a witch. Or not. Maybe she was just going crazy, she tried to reason.

Suddenly, thousands of incantations begun to flood her brain at a startling pace.

Images of a place she knew as Hogwarts begun to overflow her mind along with people that semed oh so familiar. People she must have known. Places she must have been to.

The sudden burst of memory excited, yet also frightened her for she still could not remember who she was. So far, she only knew one thing for sure; she was a witch… maybe. She still hadn't ruled out the possibility of insanity.

It was so common these days.

Forcefully, she pushed everything else currently occupying her mind to the back of her brain, for the task at hand still remained. She could ponder things later, after she got dressed.

Slowly, she eased out of the green gown and begun to dress herself. It felt so unfamiliar and strained. Like something she hadn't done for years. After a good ten minutes, she had successfully managed to dress herself. She now wore a pair of black pants and a simple black shirt.

Using the support of the metal pole, she pulled herself upwards once more. The sun had almost set now, leaving the room in a state of semidarkness. Her rational side told her it would be best to wait for morning before daring to leave her current sanctuary, however, the other side of her encouraged her to go in search of the many answers that she hoped for. It felt like the right thing to do.

Before preparing to start the long walk ahead though, she glanced at the abandoned bed once more, noticing she had left the 'wand' on it. She grabbed the wooden stick in a loose grip, fingering its smooth, familiar surface. With sudden inspiration, she held the wand above her head.

"Lu-l-lumos!" she whispered. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, brilliant white light illuminated the room. Light being emitted from the tip of her wand. Maybe luck was on her side after all. She slowly begun to move, deciding it was time to abandon her trusty metal pole, her only current 'friend', for it was too heavy to drag out of the room and God only knew where.

'Great, first I'm a witch now I'm starting to refer to metal object as 'friends'!' she thought, an ironic smile gracing her features.

She slowly began to move out of the room, taking small steps. She felt like she was going to collapse any moment. As she reached the door, she glanced in the room one last time. The wand was held steadily over her head, illuminating everything in a fairly eerie manner.

She noticed a clipboard hanging from the door. Hastily she grabbed it, unsure of the possibilities that the paper clipped on it might hold. As she read the sheet, a small triumphant smile formed on her lips. The sheet was filled with information scribbled in messy handwriting that she could barely make out; however, she only cared about one thing.

Patient Name: Hermione Granger

Date of Admission: Jan. 12, 2006

"Hermione Granger. Hermione. I'm Hermione." She whispered to no one in particular. Her own voice sounded so strange in the gloomy silence surrounding her. She ripped the paper out of the clipboard and securely tucked it into the pocket of her pants before continuing on her path towards the nearest exit.

Half an hour and four staircases later, she found herself facing the front entrance. Slowly, she walked through the revolving glass doors and into the cool night air. It felt so good to be able to breath fresh air, not the stale air in the building. For a few minutes she just stood there, looking up at the dark sky painted with millions of silver stars.

The cold air stung her lungs, which burned from the effort that she was currently exerting upon herself. She didn't care, though. More important things lay ahead.

She was so tired, but she had to continue. She didn't know where she would go or what she would do. However, she tried not to think of that. She would take everything one step at a time. She begun to walk down the sidewalk, not quite sure of where she would end up, or which direction to take yet getting the feeling that her subconscious was taking her somewhere. She supported herself with one hand, leaning against various walls.

There were no lights on anywhere and the only light was that produced by her wand. The faint, silvery glow seemed to almost be swallowed up in the sinister night.

The streets were deserted, devoid of any sign of life. At certain moments, she would get the feeling of being watched or of not being alone, however, there was no one in sight. She didn't dare thing what might lurk in the various buildings surrounding her, that lay in hopeless shambles.

She walked for about another half hour before getting the sense that she was where she needed to be. She glanced around. Everything was deserted. On the sidewalk next to her were two shops. One appeared to have once been a bookshop while the other might have served as a record store at some point. However, both were now in a state of utter ruin. In between the two stores was a neatly perched, nondescript building, with an ancient looking wooden door leading inside.

She glanced at the curious looking door for a few moments before realizing her feet could no longer hold her up. She was dead tired. She felt like her tired muscles would give in at any moment.

No. She knew they could no longer hold her up. Her conscience yelled for her to go through the door, however, it was too late. Her fatigue finally caught up with her causing her to unceremoniously fall to the ground. The whole rather frightening situation began to fade into a gulf of darkness.

And she didn't know whether she had blacked out before hitting the solid ground or if someone had caught her just in time.

The lit wand fell to the ground, it's silvery light extinguishing…


It was safe to say that he wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten himself into his current situation. One minute, he was strolling through The Leaky Cauldron, just having finished running some errands in Diagon Alley. The next moment, however, Tom sprang past him, hurriedly making his way towards the front entrance where another wizards had just brought in a girl who had fainted in front of the door. Out of pure curiosity, he had made his way towards the commotion to see who it was and what had happened. However, he most certainly did not expect what he saw next.

On the dusty floor lay an unconscious girl. She was stick thin, with light brown hair, however, upon further inspection, he realized it was none other than Hermione Granger. He had concluded this after noticing the thin gold chain she wore around her neck. The same one she had had since her first year at Hogwarts.

"Oh dear, this isn't good at all," said Tom while fussing over the girl. "Someone needs to get some help. Call a mediwizard." He exclaimed to no one in particular.

"Out of the way Tom, I have the situation under control," he suddenly found himself saying as he stepped toward the scene.

"Lord Malfoy, it's an honor to be graced by your presence here," said Tom while bowing deeply.

Ass kissing really was not his forte in Draco's opinion.

"I'm sure," his reply was thick with sarcasm, "I can handle the situation form here. This one's just another mudblood runaway. I'm under special orders to…take care of her." He said with a malicious glint in his concrete eyes.

"If I can be of any assistance your lordship.."

"No need Tom, as I said I can handle it from here. However, let's keep this little incident between the two of us, understood?" he said, not taking his stony gaze off the little man, thus effectively making him squirm, "Because if you don't, well, I'll be very cross. You really don't want to get me cross now do you Tom?"

"N-n-no your lordship, I am your devoted servant," stammered the petrified innkeeper.


Without another word, Draco picked her up and immediately apparated, leaving behind him only a very startled Tom. Within seconds, he appeared in front of Malfoy Manor, and soon made his way one of the lushly decorated bedrooms that Malfoy Manor was notoriously known for, where he deposited the unconscious Hermione.

Draco called forth one of the numerous house elves who immediately appeared with a light pop. He instructed for the little creature to immediately summon the trusted family mediwizard before dismissing him.

Only after everything was settled did the young Malfoy take the time to consider his current predicament. He glanced at the unconscious form of the girl lying on the bed, inspecting every single detail.

She wore black pants and a shirt that hung loosely off of her skinny form. She was much thinner than she had been the last time he had seen her.

That had been at more than half a year before.

Her honey brown hair hung well past her mid-back is shaggy layers. It was obvious that her hair had not been cut or even tamed for a lengthy while. Her face was corpse white as was the rest of her body. Her breathing was ragged, he noticed. Upon further inspection, he noticed what had once been a multitude of scars all across her arms. However, they had long healed, thus leaving light markings on her ivory skin.

They had been healed without the use of magic, he had concluded.

He took a seat on a nearby chair still watching her sleeping form with hawk like precision. He hadn't brought her there because he was a good Samaritan.

Far from it.

To most, the girl would be nothing but a mudblood, shunned from the new society that had formed ever since the rise of the Lord. However, many also didn't know that after his rise, the Dark Lord had placed forth a reward for anyone who could find her and bring her to him.


The elite few who knew about this did not think much of it. They all thought he wanted her for some sort of information.

However, Draco new better.

She was nothing more than a fugitive. One of the few survivors of the light side. But one thing was all wrong in this current state of affairs. She had disappeared long before the final battle and the untimely death of her former best friends. Everyone, including himself, had expected her to be dead.

He hadn't given it much thought until earlier that day when he had recognized her on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron. Now, he wanted, no, he needed to know why the Dark Lord was still searching for her. There had to be something to it. Something much more sinister than any of them has suspected.

Especially since the Dark Lord's health was also another matter at hand. But about this matter, he was very certain that only he knew. After all, he was the right hand man of Voldemort. He had occupied this position just after the final battle, due to his loyalty to the dark side and the amount of damage he had caused to the light side.

Draco was soon brought out of his deep whirlwind of thoughts by a light tap on the mahogany door leading to the room.


"Master Draco, Wimpy has brought Dr. Greenford as you asked," said a small house elf.

"You did well Wimpy. Show him in.," replied Draco standing. The small creatures glowed with pride before bringing in a middle-aged wizard. He wore his graying hair long, along with his beard. He was dressed in immaculate midnight blue robes. He had an imposing presence even though he was much shorter when compared to Draco's height of 6'3.

"You asked to see me, Lord Malfoy?" he stated more than asked while bowing deeply.

"Indeed I did, Greenford. I want you to take a look at someone for me," he said, motioning to the form on the bed, "I need to know exactly what's wrong to her, and possibly, what caused it."

"How long has she been in this state, my Lord?" asked Greenford while taking out his wand and proceeding to walk towards the bed.

"I'm not sure. I found her about a half hour ago. She was passed out. But that's all I know of," said Draco, an unreadable look in his eyes, "She's supposed to be dead…"

"Merlin… well I will do everything that is in my power, your lordship," said the older wizard, "Please, take a seat while I begin. I shall announce to you when I'm done."

"Actually, I have some owls that I need to send," replied Draco. He trusted leaving the wizard alone, even though he would still instruct the house elves to keep an eye on him. One could never be too careful. "I'll return in about half an hour."

"Very well, your lordship. As you wish."

Draco left the room and after telling the house elves his precise wishes he made his way to his study. It was lavishly decorated room consisting of dark Rococo style furniture and heavy tapestries. Above the fireplace hung a custom made painting of himself as a child accompanied by his parents. The perfect family some would say.

It was far from true.

He sat at the large carved mahogany desk and proceeded to begin writing replies to those important enough to receive one. However, his mind was still concentrated upon the mystery at hand. The mystery of the supposedly dead, newly alive, Hermione Granger. He tightly gripped the delicate Phoenix feather quill he was used to write with. However, he forced himself to concentrate upon the task at hand.

Once he had finished, he made his way to the mansion owlery. The messages were not important enough that he had to use his own personal owl. After sending each and every letter he finally returned back to the room where he had left Greenford with the comatose Granger.

"You're back, your lordship. I have quite a bit to tell you," said the mediwizard jumping off of the chair that he had been previously occupying. Draco took a seat facing him.

"Go ahead."

"Well, so far I have concluded that her current state was induced be exhaustion and lack of muscular stimulation. There are certain marks on her body indicating to a fairly violent incident occurring to her. Some of the marks were caused by magic while others were purely due to physical violence," started the elder wizard.

" I was able to conclude this from the way some of the marks were healed. One such example can be seen on her lower abdomen," he said, standing up and walking over to the bed. He pulled up the black material of the shirt to reveal a mauve colored disfigurement about two inches in length.

"This was made by a magical weapon of some sort. From my experience, I believe it to have been a mildly poisoned magical dagger. The poison on it causes the victim extreme fatigue which may eventually have led to unconsciousness. If it is not treated properly, it will continue to weaken the body possibly leading to death," he continued. Draco was transfixed by him.

"However, this is only the beginning. My theory is that they young lady was involved in a fight of sorts. The dagger wound caused her much energy loss, thus making the curses thrown at her from her adversaries have double the effects. Also, the intense loss of blood did her even more damage," continued Greenford before taking a deep breath. "My theory is that the combination of physical and magical wounds caused her to be extremely week thus allowing whatever was later cast on her to have an even more serious affect."

"What exactly do you mean? Is it lasting?" asked Draco standing up and walking towards the bed.

"It cannot be told just yet."

"Fine, but how is it she has been able to survive all of these moths without anyone finding her or without her dying."

"Ah yes. That is indeed a good question. My individual conjecture is that towards the end of the battle, someone threw a petrification spell at her thus leading her to collapse and probably hit her head upon a hard surface."

"Yes, fine, but what does this mean?" asked Draco impatiently.

"The corporeal and magical wounds that she suffered, along with the collision…well I believe that it lead her whole system to collapse. She was in a very critical condition and eventually her brain signaled everything to shut down."

"You mean…?"

"A coma, Mr. Malfoy."

"A come?" repeated Malfoy, with a dumbfound expression.

"Indeed. I have been able to deduce from the pitiable healing of her wounds, that she had probably been taken to a muggle hospital, where the obvious lack of knowledge regarding magical wounds would have caused the attendants to not heal her properly." Continued the doctor, as he pointed to her arms, which has clearly been scared. "As you well know, your Lordship, healing through magic leaves no scaring of the tissue."

"Certainly. But what of the coma. Because, as an educated guess, I am to assume that she has been in this comatose state probably ever since her disappearance more than six months ago, and may only have woken up within the past few days. But as you well know doctor, muggle London as well as the nearby surroundings has practically been destroyed. No hospital could have possibly kept her as a patient, or we would have known about it," said Draco, regaining his stony expression.

"Of course, Lord Malfoy. Well simply put, I believe that before leaving her in a muggle hospital, whoever first took her there, may have placed a protective healing charm on her," began the old wizard, furrowing his brow in concentration. "Such charms work much like a literal bubble encompassing the victim that provides all the necessities of life, magically, so that the individual placed under it is able to naturally regain consciousness, while also being provided with nourishment and energy through magic. The charm is only of minimal strength, thus not being able to heal the patient magically, but simply protect from the surrounding environment."

"Interesting. I final question for you, Greenford, what are the aftereffects of such an experience?" asked the young Draco Malfoy, wishing the fully grasp the severity of the situation.

"Well there may be long term problems with internal organs that have been affected, however this can easily be fixed. The magical wound has to be healed as soon as possible. Weakness will obviously arise, but worst of all there may be some memory loss," replied the wizard, not quite making any eye contact.

"Memory loss? How severe?" asked an agitated Draco, rising to his feet. He most certainly did not need a mudblood that would be unable to answer any questions.

"I am unable to tell at the moment. If it is of a lower degree, you simply have to provide the young lady with a potion which I can easily brew for your lordship. However, if the lack of memory is severe, nothing can be done except wait for the natural healing process of the mind to occur. This can take place anywhere from days to years, it all depends upon how powerful her mind is."

"The Gods be dammed!" whispered Malfoy. "Very well then, your services are no longer needed. However, before you may go, heal her wounds, and I expect the potion from you by tomorrow."

"As you wish your Lordship, if will only take a matter of minutes," replied the old wizard, however, Malfoy had already disappeared through the door, guided by his own thoughts in regards to the matter.

Did a bit of revising, hope you all like! Please review, I wish to hear all of your comments. Next chapter up very soon!