A/N. I'm sorry to those of you who are following my other story, The Long Road Home. I've had a terrible time with the next few chapters. I'm not happy with it at all. So, I've started writing a couple of other stories to help me get past this block. This is a one shot. I may or may not work on the prequel. I've left it open ended and therefore, I am open to whatever may come my way, creatively.

Also, I am looking for a BETA or someone to bounce ideas off of or to work with to help me stay on track and stay focused. If you're an experienced writer and would be interested in a mentor/beta type relationship, please private message me.

THE SLOW THAW

He stood on the threshold of their shared bedroom and watched as she brushed out her long whiskey coloured locks. Every night she spent ten minutes brushing her hair until it gleamed and the curls where tamed into a lovely cascade of ringlets down her back. She would then part her hair into three even sections and plait it into a neat line to hang down her back. He loved watching her deft hands as they worked magic on her beautiful cap of curls.

Five years they had been man and wife and he loved her with all his soul. He had loved her for years and it was a true gift when she was given to him. He cherished her yet he knew she had no love for him. She quietly accepted her fate and every day he witnessed her swallow her sorrow.

She was always unflinchingly civil to him. She accepted his touch, because it was part of the agreement. She bore him children, because that was their duty. She did not have to give him her heart. He knew she had put that in a cage way out of his reach long ago. That gift belonged to someone else, he surmised. He tried to satisfy himself with the knowledge that she loved their children beyond measure. Genevieve was four and the spitting image of her mother with the exception that her hair was a golden blonde and her eyes where grey in colour. Yet, she was all Malfoy in personality. Cygnus was the first dark haired Malfoy in generations. His hair was a golden brown and his eyes were round and dark blue, like his Mamere's. He was a beautiful child and very much like his mother; serious, quick and easily hurt. At three, he had already learned to keep his emotions in check and only ever voiced his hurt to his mother in private.

There was tension between Hermione and him. Despite their best efforts, it was apparent to everyone that he and his wife kept their distance from each other – emotionally and physically. Draco rarely touched his wife outside of their marriage bed and Hermione found ways to keep busy and out of her husband's reach. There were neither cross words nor words of affection in the home. It was all business and Draco was tired, so very tired of pretending and holding back.

Draco cleared his throat as he entered the room, shoring up his defences but it was too late. The words passed from his brain and out his mouth before he could stop them. "You're so beautiful when you're with child Hermione."

Hermione was still sitting at her dressing table but the mirror allowed her to see him as he walked into their private domain. She stared at him, her eyes wide in shock.

"I'm sorry…I've been thinking those words all day and it just popped out of my mouth." Draco looked down at this shoes and then back into her saucer like eyes. "You've always been very beautiful to me but you take on an extra…I don't know how describe it...Layer of beauty, perhaps, when you're with child."

Hermione was nearly speechless. Her often cold and eternally stoic husband never spoke so plainly. "You realise Draco that we've been married five years and that is the most you've ever said to me?" She went on in an effort to ease his obvious discomfort. "Thank you, for saying so. I don't feel very attractive. I wish the baby would make his or her appearance. I'm already 4 days past due."

Hermione's easy acceptance of his compliment buoyed him on, "That's not the only thing that is past due. I've been a coward Hermione." She looked at him quizzically. "I know you're not happy with me; with the choice that was made for you. We've never spoken of it but I can see that you're hiding your hurt away. I just…I need you to know that I've never been unhappy with this arrangement. You make me whole. Our marriage, our children and you, make me complete. I do love you."

Hermione turned in her seat and looked directly at her husband. "I put my heart in box made of ice Draco because I thought I was not what you wanted. I have always felt that I was foisted upon you and that you ultimately felt our children to be mongrels – not quite good enough to be real Malfoys."

"That is not what I believe", he ground out. In a stronger voice he said, "You are a more gifted and talented witch than anyone in generations. Our children are proof of your beauty and fertility and their existence and the new life that grows inside you are all indicative of that fact. An heir is not all that I want or need. I want a family Hermione. Our children and you are my life."

Draco walked over to his wife and kneeled down in front of her. He grasped her hands and looked directly into her eyes. "Please, please forgive me. Please accept this very late confession. We will be together for years to come and I want to be your friend. I'm not sure how we do this after five years of complacency but we just can't go on like roommates. This is starting to kill me on the inside and I think it affects our children. You need to know that I will always be on your side Hermione. I'm with you, always."

Hermione bowed her head and her shoulders started to shake. Tears sprinkled her satin robe. Draco removed his hands from Hermione's took her into his arms, stoking her long plait and rubbing her back. "Shhh, I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. It's alright if you don't feel the same. I understand. Really, I do. If I were you, I think it would be impossible to feel anything but loathing for me. You're always so calm and civil with me and my parents and everyone…I don't know how you do it Hermione. You're so strong."

Hermione continued to weep until slowly her sobs subsided. Draco reached for a tissue from her dressing table and handed it to her. Hermione dabbed her eyes and her nose. She then looked into her husband face and saw that his shields were down. This was absolutely the most vulnerable she had ever seen him.

"Long ago, I put my heart in a box and stowed it away. All the love that I'm capable of giving, I give to our children. I care for you Draco. You've been a wonderful and considerate companion. I know you think I just tolerate you but the truth is I enjoy your company. You're smart and we share many of the same interests. You have a dry and sharp wit that often leaves me at a loss for words – imagine that!" She chuckled a little at her own joke and Draco smiled up at her. "I'll be your friend Draco and maybe one day my heart will have thawed and I'll be able to return your love. This is all very overwhelming." She smiled shyly at him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, thanking him for his kind words and actions.

Three days later Hermione gave birth at home, in the manor to a little girl. She was bald and red and squalling for the breast and Draco thought she was glorious. They named her Maeve. Hermione finished her first feeding and handed her to Draco to burp. Hermione was quite tired from the ordeal and ready to nap. Taking the baby from her he whispered in Hermione's ear, "I love you. Thank you for making my dreams true." He then turned away and busied himself with Maeve's care.

Draco wasn't a cold or distant father. He was very involved his children's everyday care, which was very different from the way he was raised. Hermione never had to ask him to help, he just did. It was like that from the very start. He was always careful of her needs, of her feelings and very thoughtful. Over the years she had grown fond of him and then she fell in love with him. Her heart was guarded by bars of ice that were slowly starting to thaw. Someday the cold bars around her heart would melt away entirely. Someday she knew she would repeat those three words back to her beloved husband, not today...but someday.

A/N Anyone want to guess how Draco and Hermione came to be married? What forces threw them together in a marriage that was not a love match?