IV.

You are made of magic,

don't you dare

allow yourself

to be treated

like you are any less.

From the moment she saw her daughter in the delivery room at St. Mungo's, wrinkled, slimy, and purple, Hermione fell head-over-heels in love. So entranced was she by the little bundle that she hardly noticed as the mediwitch bustled around her, taking care of all the necessary after-business of birth. From sweet little cheeks to tiny toes, Hermione tried to soak in every last detail of the baby in her arms. She reached out a finger and stroked the infant's head; it felt impossibly soft, like silky feathers.

"Oh my god," she whispered, her breath caught in her throat.

All the painful, drawn-out confrontations over the past eight months had led to this moment – the moment she met her daughter. It had all been for this: the divorce, the custody fight, the legal proceedings concerning her copyright of her potions. Everything.

Anthony had cried and begged on his knees when he returned from his business trip all those months ago, refusing to sign the papers. He had sniveled and dripped tears on her blouse until she told him her demands: the copyrights for her creations and backpay for all units sold sent to her newly-reactivated Gringotts account. At these words, his tears dried immediately and were replaced with screams and curses.

But as she had decided, Hermione Granger was done being manipulated. She reached out to those from whom she had been kept all those years, asking for help. Harry. Ginny. Luna. Even her parents. They had all welcomed her into their worried arms and had given her just the right amount of support as newspapers and magazines exploded with news of the demise of the great Goldstein potions empire. They stood by her side through the end of her lawsuit when she left the Ministry, patent papers and the key to a full Gringotts vault in hand.

After all that, Anthony hadn't batted an eye when she asked him to terminate his parental rights to their child.

"You're a real bitch, you know," he had said after he signed the legal documents. "You've single-handedly ruined everything we worked for. No one will sign on to work with me."

"Well, I recall you telling me once," she began, rolling up the parchment and sticking in her purse, "that If there was anyone who was going to make your name big in the potions business world, it was me. And now, Mr. Goldstein, you're infamous."

Without a backwards glance, she marched from the room. Anthony hadn't contacted her since.

Now, little Matilda Anne Granger had come into her life, and her world was forever shifted.

Hermione rocked her daughter late at night, the two of them alone in the dark, quiet nursery. It was on nights like this that the rest of the world faded away. All she could see was was her daughter and the wonderful life they would build together. She looked into her baby's trusting eyes and saw strength and love reflected back. Every time she held Matilda in her arms, a warm fluttering filled her chest; all the butterflies she had ever felt for boys didn't begin to compare to the fullness this sensation gave her.

This little person in her arms relied on her for everything, and in return, Hermione felt needed and appreciated in a whole new light. She wanted to scoop Matilda up and hold her in her arms forever. Her little girl had never experienced hurt; her skin and her heart were yet unbroken.

She needed to be better for her daughter. She needed to be better for herself.

Something about those quiet hours in the nursery before the dawn felt entirely made of magic.

Determined anew, Hermione began to meet with potion development groups and distributors to find a good match a couple months after the baby's birth. She wanted to work with someone who would allow her to follow her interests at her own pace. Someone who promised to trust her the same way her daughter did: completely. She attended meetings with various companies, Matilda accompanying her each time. Hermione found that cradling her daughter to her chest in a baby carrier while discussing the finer points of brewing modified Polyjuice potion really sorted the candidates to consider from the ones she'd rather not work with.

In the end, her choice surprised her.

From the moment she walked into the board room at Malfoy Industries, something about the place felt right. Of course, her instincts had been wrong before, so she decided to proceed with caution. Draco seemed enthusiastic about getting her on board with his company, baby and all. Their meeting lasted over an hour; Draco played with Matilda's chubby feet as they conversed, though his eyes never left hers as she spoke. Hermione spent almost the entire time interrogating him about his intentions to acquire her as a potions master.

Why did he want her to work there?

What kind of potions was she expected to make?

What would her hours be?

Could she work from a home laboratory?

What would her salary look like?

Would she be allowed to choose the topics of her research?

After being used for so long, she wanted to make sure he had no nefarious intentions.

He answered all of her questions. Every single one. In detail. He didn't paint a rosy picture of working together, but he did suggest a productive, positive one.

"And Ms. Granger," he chuckled, Matilda's fist wrapped around his finger, "with regards to your concerns, I have no intention of telling you what to brew. By taking you on as a partner, I'm trusting you to follow your instincts and make us the best product possible. If you make us something terrible, obviously I'll tell it like it is. But I want you to explore as far and as wide as you'd like to bring us something fantastic."

"Aren't you concerned about lack of profit if you have no say in what I brew?" Hermione asked, holding back her smile as Matilda tried to shove Draco's fingers in her mouth.

"Not at all. I like to think I've got a decent eye for business, and I've gotten the keen sense that you've always known exactly what people need. Even if they don't realize it yet." Draco continued to speak, even as Matilda gummed his hand.

Hermione thanked him for his time and pulled Matilda off of him. She asked for several days to think over his offer.

"Take your time," he called as she exited his office, a kind smile on his face.

When she responded to him by owl one week later with her acceptance, he sent her contract over almost immediately. Reading it from beginning to end, his offer seemed incredibly fair. She would work partially on commission, of course, but there were no stipulations for the type of potions she could brew or the number of times she could switch directions of her research. Any meetings could be held on her terms to accommodate her child. Most importantly, all potions she created would be copyrighted under her name to ensure that if they ever parted ways, she would still be able to support herself.

After reading the contract in full five times, she signed the dotted line.

As it turned out, caring for a baby as she brewed was excellent inspiration for potion-making. By the time Matilda took first steps, Hermione had developed and patented a line of special baby and mummy care potions. Colic cures. Burp-inducing solution. Nipple repair potion.

Malfoy Industries considered her products some of their best-selling items, and Draco Malfoy always sang her praises whenever they met to discuss business. Of course, he also sang her daughter's praises as well.

"Mattie, my darling!" he would call to her when they arrived in his office, his arms outstretched to the curly-haired toddler as she flew toward him on her tiny feet, giggling. Hermione rather disliked the nickname he had given her daughter, but she was a sucker for that little girl's happiness. And her daughter certainly adored Draco Malfoy.

The two were practically peas in a pod. Strangers had even mistaken them for father and child. Whenever they had a meeting, Matilda liked to crawl on his lap and follow him around like a little duckling, copying everything he did. Seeing them together made her heart sing. Without Matilda's real father in the picture, it was healthy for her to have good men in her life. Of course, she had her grandfather and Harry as well. And Matilda loved them, of course.

But Draco was clearly her favorite; only he called her Mattie and spoiled her rotten with lollies and wizarding fairytales.

Watching them interact made the part of her heart that she had sworn to lock up and throw away the key begin to stutter to life once more. Truth be told, she found Draco Malfoy to be incredibly attractive. He often opted not to wear traditional robes, but instead, three-piece suits left her feeling a little hot under the collar.

Hermione hadn't had sex since Matilda was conceived well over two years previously, and sometimes her thoughts liked to wander and betray her. That part wasn't the bit that caused her anguish, though. No, she was a hot-blooded woman just like every other woman out there.

No, what really bothered her was the way he was worming his way into her heart. She was pretty sure he knew it, too. With the way he coddled Matilda, how could he not know what he was doing to her? But it wasn't just his charm that attracted her. He was always honest with her and didn't spew off bullshit to get his way. He didn't yell or scream or try to redirect her.

He was kind, which was something she had come to believe a man around her could never truly be.

Yes, that may have been true. But when he asked her out on a date after a particularly successful meeting a week before Matilda's second birthday, she turned him down in a matter of seconds.

"Not to pry or anything," he asked as Matilda zoomed around his office making horse noises, "but may I ask why?"

"You have to understand," she responded, eyes on her daughter, "that Matilda comes first. She will always come first. And I come right after her. Then my work. I can't put any of that at risk just to feel a bit of romance."

She offered a sad smile as Matilda switched to cat noises. "Besides, you know what her father was like. And my other exes. You were there when we were Heads together during eighth year. You saw Cormac break my heart. I'm sure you heard about Ron through the grapevine and read about Anthony in The Daily Prophet. I can't risk my freedom or my heart like that again."

Draco swallowed and nodded, a wistful expression on his face.

"I respect that."

Hermione looked up at him as he spoke. Her eyebrow twitched with slight surprise. "It makes me sad that you went through all that and it left you feeling so exposed. I won't push. We'll keep our relationship strictly professional if that's what you feel is right."

Matilda chose that exact moment to pull on Draco's trouser leg, pawing at him. He picked up the toddler and she meowed at him.

"Well," Hermione chuckled. "Perhaps not entirely professional. You're still invited to this little monster's second birthday party next weekend."

Matilda crinkled her nose and grinned.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Draco planted a kiss on the little girl's forehead and set her back down on his office floor. "One o'clock at your place, right?"

She confirmed all the details before scooping up her daughter and bidding him goodbye. As her low heels clicked on the polished wood floors that lead to the exit, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed in herself.

Guests started showing up for Matilda's party right on time. It was a wonder she had been able to get set up at all. Matilda had thrown a fit after her morning nap and had refused to wear the special birthday outfit Hermione had picked out. Two biscuits and a cup of juice later, she had managed to wrestle the toddler into the adorable baby blue dress. If it hadn't been for her parents showing up to help an hour early, there might not have even been a party.

Before long, Hermione's back garden was filled with toddlers and their parents. Harry and Ginny had arrived with James and Al, who were currently chasing after a gnome. Ron was there as well; Hermione had made a point to try and mend their friendship shortly after Matilda's birth. He had clearly brought her some product from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, where he now worked alongside George. Hermione rolled her eyes at the lumpy package but welcomed him and pointed him in the direction of the snack table.

Draco Malfoy was among the last guests to arrive. He showed up wearing a patterned shirt and slacks, holding a brightly-wrapped gift. When he opened his mouth to speak what was likely a greeting, he was cut off by a loud shriek as a delighted Matilda rushed toward him.

Hermione watched as her daughter's favorite person embraced her without hesitation, smothering her with kisses as she giggled heartily.

The sight took her breath away. It was no wonder that so many people thought Draco was Matilda's father. Hugging her close and looking at her like that, he certainly looked the part. What would it be like to make him a part of their lives? Could she even let another man into her life? Could she let one into Matilda's?

But what a ridiculous question. Draco Malfoy was already a central part of her daughter's life. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if she calling him 'dad' by mistake one day.

"I heard you're the birthday girl. Is that true?" he asked in a sweet tone, tugging at her curls.

Her daughter deserved a father. But it wasn't only that. She, Hermione Granger, deserved someone, too: someone who would love her unconditionally. Someone who would treat her with respect.

In their nearly two-year working relationship, Draco had always respected her choices and ideas. He listened when she complained and gave her fair feedback when she missed the mark. Looking back, she always had always taken the plunge in her relationships too quickly and easily. It hadn't been her only mistake, but it may have been her biggest.

Wiser and more experienced, she was determined to not repeat that mistake. That's why she had turned Draco down. She refused to go through hell again.

But what if…

As she watched Draco walk Matilda around the party in his arms, the realization hit her, simple and sweet.

What kind of example was she setting for her daughter down the line if she didn't take a little risk on a real chance at love? Not a fantasy. Not a manufactured, manipulated image of someone. But on a real man whom she had grown to appreciate and care for?

Suddenly flushed, she made her way toward the side of the garden where Matilda was showing Draco the fairy house they kept next to the flower beds.

"Draco, may I speak to you a moment?" she asked, fidgeting with the skirt of her pale-yellow dress.

He nodded, setting the little girl down. Together, they retreated into the quiet sitting room of her cottage. The moment they were alone, she turned to face him.

"What would you say if I decided to stop creating maternity and infant care potions? If I wanted to work on something more obscure?" She spoke quickly, her heart thumping.

"For instance…?" Draco lifted an eyebrow, confusion painted on his face.

"Oh, I don't know. Obliviation reversal potions. Or interpretation potions. Something wild that's never been attempted. What would you say if I wanted to make those?"

Draco paused, considering her for a moment. "I would heartily approve. I'm convinced that the world needs whatever potions you want to make."

"No problems?"

"None."

"There would be no financial ramifications for me?"

"Of course, the portion of your salary affected by commission would change based off of sales, but that wouldn't change from now. I wouldn't manipulate anything about your job if you decided to switch courses."

"And if I wanted to switch managers. For personal reasons?"

Draco stopped again, tilting his head slightly. "Are you thinking of quitting? Is it because I asked you out? Well, shit. I really bullocksed that up, didn't I? I'm so sorr–"

She placed a single finger over his mouth, and he went quiet in an instant.

"Don't apologize for asking me on a date, Draco. I won't accept any apology of that sort."

"…you won't?"

"Of course not. Not when I'm accepting your offer."

"Not when you're – wait, what?" Draco stepped back, confusion more evident than ever.

"I'm accepting. Your date offer, that is. I'd like to go on a date with you. Very much so."

A grin lit up his face as he listened, but as usual, he asked the right questions.

"And Mattie? What about her?"

"Well she certainly can't come along with us. We can bring her along next time for a family outing, don't you think?"

Draco was blinking far more than usual, likely trying to process her sudden reversal.

"I… suppose so." He looked down her, giddiness radiating from his expression, his body electric. It seemed to be radiating off of him and into her own body, because after a moment, she couldn't stop grinning like an idiot, either.

"Hermione?" he asked after a moment. "I'd like to kiss you. Is that all right?"

She nodded.

She had kissed lips that felt right at the time – many times, in fact. But never had it felt like this. Never had it felt like coming home.

They walked back out into the garden minutes later, slightly disheveled, hand in hand. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry giving her an approving, if slightly judgmental look. The moment they stepped into the sunlight, Matilda spotted them and rushed over, her curly hair bouncing as she ran.

Hermione picked up her daughter and held her aloft, peppering her face with kisses.

This life she had – this wonderful, beautiful life – wouldn't be her reality if she hadn't given herself some tough love, then and now.

Matilda reached for Draco and clung to him when she transferred to his arms.

"Daddy!" she cried, cuddling into his shoulder.

Draco froze, looking to her for guidance. His eyes were wide and hopeful.

"Yes, little love," she whispered, patting her daughter's back. "Daddy."

Tough love had done her right.

Sending love as always.
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