A/N: SURPRISE! With the whole story having gone missing/deleted issue, I just really want this out of the way instead of posting it next week. I want to put this away for a while and not think about all of the reviews/favourites/alerts I lost (because it's still painful to think about).

So no, I don't care that this chapter is not as complete as I'd like it to be, or that I was going to rewrite the last part of the chapter, or the fact that it's unbetaed. SCREW IT ALL! I don't care.

So let me know what you thought about it.

Chapter Twenty: Come What May

The first time he saw in an out of work/non-case related capacity was ironically at the Ministry. She had been grabbing a very late five o clock lunch and he'd just stopped in for a cup of coffee after a gruelling session with Potter. It had made his day, seeing her there bent over what must have been her last file. These were her last days at the Ministry and the Department heads wanted to squeeze every last drop of effort out of her.

Or so the rumours went.

He contemplated approaching her. They hadn't talked to each other since she'd come to visit him in his office and he wondered for a second if she'd even want to see him. After all, she hadn't made an effort to seek him out, even though they technically worked in the same building, no matter how large it was. He didn't want to disturb her. She had been busy, seemed to be busy at that very moment. But his feet were making the decision for him before his brain could reject the idea.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked her, a little more on the awkward side than he would have liked. She literally jumped, splattering the coffee that had been in her hand.

It spilled all over herself, the table, the floor, and her files. She looked up at him with a glare in her eyes and a half muttered "What the fuck!" already out of her mouth, until she realized who it was. Then the anger visibly melted off her face, easily replaced by embarrassment. Draco loved the way her cheeks coloured at seeing his smirk and raised brow, loved the way she shyly met his gaze.

"Shouldn't creep up on people like that, you know," she said, waving her wand to clean up the mess she had made. "You very nearly gave me a heart attack!" With that exclamation, she sat down. He didn't miss how she gave him a quick once over before gesturing for him to take a seat as well.

He prayed to Merlin he didn't look like utter shit.

"I'm very sorry for startling you if that means anything," he said with an amused edge to his tone. He knew she knew that he wasn't really sorry. Even after all they'd gone through, all that they'd grown, he still enjoyed riling her up just as much as she probably enjoyed ticking him off with her know it all attitude.

But she just shrugged and he was almost disappointed with her nonchalance. "No harm done. How've you been...?"

Draco knew the question was a tentative one. She probably knew that they (meaning he, Potter, and the Auror Department) were still busy cleaning up after all the mess Psycho Lovegood had left behind. Draco was still clocking overtime seven days a week – something that had never happened before in his life, at least not after a case had been completed. But, to be fair, the monumental amount of paperwork was just the after effect of any case at the Ministry. It was just tripled in this particular circumstance because... of the special, delicate nature of events

Well, because a lot of fucking shit had gone wrong, that's why.

Besides. Draco had broken several laws, least of which included the Witch who sat across from him, staring at him expectantly. He definitely was not regretting breaking any of them, though.

So what if he had broken protocol by keeping a potential witness in his home and developing a not so professional relationship with the woman? So what if he had broken confidentiality and a dozen rules by telling her the details of the investigation and showing her his goddamn Auror file? He didn't regret it. It just meant a whole lot more paperwork to process and Potter's good will to go on.

And everyone knew Potter's patience and saviour complex was just endless.

She probably knew of it all though, was probably aware of every single protocol the Ministry had. She was Bookworm Granger after all. But she couldn't have known about the nightmares that were plaguing him, the fact that he couldn't stay asleep longer than a few short measly hours. He didn't think she would be aware of the fact that he would make Scorpius sleep in his own bed at night because he was afraid that Lovegood would escape Azkaban to kidnap his son.

She probably had no idea that he couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror, the fact that he couldn't stay alone with his thoughts anymore. She couldn't know he was still having issues concentrating, that the pain in his body lingered, his muscles and joints ached every time he moved.

She couldn't know that he was permanently damaged mentally and probably physically.

She couldn't possibly be aware.

"Draco?" Hermione called to him tentatively, startling him out of his thoughts. "Are you alright?" It was obvious that she was concerned. It was written as plain as day all over her face. She had never been good at masking her emotions. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and they were just too damn feeling for their own goods. Probably too conscious of emotions for his own good.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I've been... busy. Yourself?"

She didn't need to know about his problems, obviously. It was bad enough that he was mentally deranged and was living a life based on lies created by a psychopath. He didn't need to broadcast it to the whole fucking world, least of all to the beautiful lion sitting in front of him. He might have feelings for the girl, he wouldn't want to scare her away so quickly, would he? Not that she'd want to stay anyway.

She shrugged again, sighing. "Work, home, work," she said with a small smile. "Just finishing up my last obligation and then I'm out of here for good, though. If only it wasn't so bloody thick." He stared down at the file that was spread before her and noticed it was probably as thick as her arm. They were really coming down hard on her, then.

"About that..." he began, staring at her contemplatively. She looked up at him and it completely distracted the hell out of him. He hadn't realized before that she had gold flecks in those chocolate coloured eyes of hers. And that her hair was wavy, not bushy. Alright, sometimes it would just be a frazzled mess, but that was just because she was frazzled herself. And her small little mouth –

"Yes?" she asked.

She was clearly feeling awkward at his stare and he had to almost shake his head to clear it of its thoughts. This was going to be a bloody hellish experience if he didn't force himself to focus. "Well. Everyone's surprised that you're leaving at such short notice. Especially since you fought tooth and nail to get to where you are now."

Another little shrug. He was going to have to pin her shoulders down if she didn't stop that. It was starting to distract him. "Sometimes you just have to do it, yeah." She seemed completely indifferent. It was so unlike the woman he thought he knew, the woman he'd become infatuated with.

"Why, though?" he persisted, if only for the sake of continuing the conversation. "I guess it would make sense if you needed time off or to cut back, but to just quit? It's a little radical."

"I've never exactly been picture perfect, have I?"

He'd have argued the point. She was picture perfect, was the essence of perfect. She was warm, gentle, and kind, too smart for her own good, feisty, compassionate... She had all the qualities he'd probably die for and still not be able to attain. And she was pretty, always had been on some level. He recalled how she'd shown up to the Yule Ball with Krum. It was a silly thing to think back on now and he knew he was just thinking that way because he was obviously so enraptured with the woman that sat in front of him. He'd hated her guts back then.

It took him a moment to realize that she was still speaking to him. "...wasn't the best decision for my family. I can't let work dictate how I live my life and define me as something substantially less than I am." He nodded absently. She had a point.

But he wasn't ready to drop it. He didn't want to go home and remember that he was a completely flawed individual. It was nice to just sit here and pretend with her for a while. "But after all that hard work..." he prompted.

"Never really cared for it," she said shortly. "I started the job for the money and kept up with it for just that. Money. It's wrong and completely unnecessary to base your life on something so..."

"Base?" he filled in. She nodded, sighing again and rubbing the back of her neck to relieve some tension. He literally had to tear his eyes away from the appealing picture just so he wouldn't lose his ability to speak. Or worse, become painfully aroused. "Why not just do a shoddy job on that and get going, then?" he asked, gesturing to the file.

She looked at him as if he were crazy. "I still have professional integrity!" she replied, almost sounding affronted. He tried to cover up his laugh, but really couldn't manage. She narrowed her eyes at him. He could honestly say it was the cutest thing he'd seen all day. "What, Malfoy? What is so goddamned funny?"

He smiled. "If you don't care about the work..." He imitated her little shrug and saw her eyes narrow further at the action.

"I have work ethic!" she exclaimed.

"You mean you're a bookworm." She stared at him open mouthed for a few moments, not quite sure how to respond to his...insult? It made him smirk. He loved throwing her for a loop, it nearly validated his very existence. This was something that was inherent between them, something they couldn't replace. "Come on, Granger, admit it. You're a goody two shoes bookworm," he said, grinning.

"Ferret," she muttered.

Now that threw him for a loop. "What did you just call me?"

She looked him straight in the eye and spoke in the most deadpanned voice and expression since Severus Snape himself. "Want to get dinner Friday night, Ferret?"

He could see her lips twitching, just barely holding back laughter that was probably dying to bubble out. He let an evil smile spread over his face, feeling truly genuinely relieved the first time since the whole kidnapper investigation had come to a close. "Sure thing, Bookworm."

He burst out into laughter when she cuffed him over the head with her file.

/

"That's just bloody weird!" Draco exclaimed, looking up at her from his place on the floor.

He had a glass of half empty scotch precariously placed next to his head and a bag of popcorn on his stomach, which he was still munching from, even though the movie was clearly finished. His face glowed from the flickering light of the television, which was now playing the credits, and his head was placed on one of her couch pillows.

"It's a little bit mind boggling, yes," she responded, smiling fondly at him.

"Mind boggling? That was mind fuckery if you ask me!" She had to restrain a giggle at his enthusiasm. He didn't seem to notice, instead turning his eyes back to the screen, half his attention focused on the credits, half on eating popcorn.

He seemed strangely out of place and way too at ease with being in such a... muggle context. They had just watched a film together, if anyone could believe it. He hadn't complained at having to do a muggle activity. In fact, he'd seemed to enjoy the hell out of himself, providing commentary every five minutes. She'd counted.

If it had been any other human being, she would have been thoroughly annoyed. She probably would have left, if she thought about it. But he was... well, he was endearing, there was no other way to describe it. He was genuinely interested and actually had something to say about it. It made her quite happy.

She had gone on the date with him that Friday after they'd met in the Ministry cafeteria. Only, it hadn't exactly been a date. She and Hugo had gone over to the Manor for dinner. The children had gone off to play with Scorpius' many toys, leaving Hermione and Minny the house elf watch Draco make a disaster in the kitchen as he attempted to prepare a meal. It had been cute, but quite a failure, causing Minny to throw a fit, Draco to blush, and Hermione to laugh joyously.

Needless to say, they had had to go and grab something from Diagon Alley.

But it had been fantastic. She had seen him every day since that night in some capacity. They had dinner, lunch, breakfast – anything as long as it was something. The hours he was away from her, he sent owls and she was more than happy to send owls back.

It was almost as if he didn't have a wife!

But that was a topic that she wasn't willing to broach. It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong. It was just food, activities, and a few friendly owls. Their children were always present, so it wasn't like she was doing anything wrong like starting an affair. It was like she was spending time with Harry – just a close, intimate friend. That is, if she wanted to jump and do sinful things to close intimate friends.

The end credits rolled to a finish and Draco stared confusedly up at her again. "That's it?" he asked.

She had to laugh. "Sorry. I probably should have told you it had ended when the credits started rolling."

He looked at her and back to the telly, which had turned itself back to the title menu of the DVD she had popped in. "So... it's over, then?" he asked for confirmation. He had such an adorable disappointed look on his face that all she could do was smile and nod. "What the fuck? How am I supposed to know what happens, then?"

Hermione shrugged. "Use your imagination?" she suggested. He began to suck the salt from the popcorn off his fingers and she realized shewas using her imagination, imagining what that mouth was able to do to her. It was sinful, delightful, the best thing she'd ever thought of in all her years as an underachieving genius, but it was grossly inappropriate. She immediately jumped up and started cleaning up the mess they'd made throughout the night.

She walked towards the kitchen without another word, carrying an armful of dirty dishes the boys had left downstairs before falling asleep in Hugo's room. Once she'd deposited the dishes into the sink and waved her wand for them to clean themselves, she gripped the counter and shut her eyes tightly. It was all starting to be a little bit too much. She didn't really want to feel the way she felt, but...

God, why did all the good men have to be married? It wasn't even as if she was his girlfriend, she was his fucking pureblooded wife! And a rude, snarky, bitchy devil woman at that.

"Something wrong?"

Hermione nearly jumped. Draco had come in with the rest of the dishes and the unfinished bag of popcorn, to find her standing there like an idiot with her eyes clenched shut, gripping the counter. It was alright though. It wasn't as if he hadn't found her in embarrassing situations before, she reasoned. She let out a breath.

"Nope. All super," she responded, putting on a fake smile.

It was obvious that he saw right through it though, because he raised his eyebrow. It was his trademark expression, they both knew. The face that said: Really? You're seriously going to pull that shit with me? Yes, she seriously was going to pull this shit with him. How was she supposed to tell him that she wanted to jump his bones and would too, if he wasn't married?

Right. Might as well just stab herself now before that ever came out of her mouth.

Instead, she took the remaining dishes and put them in the sink to be cleaned. When that appeared to be unsatisfying, she began to empty the dish rack of dried dishes. But that too wasn't enough, so she began to clean up the kitchen counters, all as he watched, silently with his hands crossed over his chest. She didn't know what he was waiting for, so she went into the living room to begin cleaning there.

She had been so focused on cleaning that she didn't even notice he had followed until she sat down on the couch. She found him staring at her from the doorway with a small smile on his face. "What?" she questioned, wondering if she had something on her face. Or worse, looked like a troll.

"You're amusing, really," he said, coming to sit next to her. "And you can't hide things at all, Gryffindor." She glared at him, but it did nothing as usual. He only smiled and brushed her hair off of her neck. The action sent small shivers down her spine. He either didn't notice or didn't comment purposefully, either was fine with her.

"What makes you think I'm hiding something?" she questioned in what she thought was a relatively even voice. At least, even with the way her heart was pounding in her chest or the fact that her hands were shaking.

"Something must be wrong because I've been around you long enough to know that this," he pressed his hand down on her nervously jittering leg to make it stop moving, "is not normal." He stared at her pointedly as if expecting her to give him some kind of explanation.

Well, what the fuck was she supposed to say? "Nope, nothing wrong." There was no way she was ever going to admit to him the thoughts that were running inside her mind. She had that school rivalry ingrained in her blood now, in her very motions. She wasn't going to be the one to give in.

But things really couldn't go on the way they were going without something exploding.

"Well, I know you're not normally this warm either," he said, pressing his cool hand to her neck. She wanted to shy away, just so she wouldn't bloody jump him, but his hand was pressed firmly against her and she knew he was trying to make a point. "And your heart shouldn't be beating this fast, should it?"

All she could do was shrug at this point. She'd dreamed for a long time (well, not that long, she assumed) for his hands on her. She just hadn't imagined that it would be in such circumstances, with him trying to outsmart her. Well, goddamn it, it wasn't going to happen! She was going to stay strong until the day he got down on his knees and confessed his everlasting love for her.

Judging by the fact that he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys sure as hell did not do such things, she was going to be a Widow forever. Which was good, that was exactly what she was going for. Lonely, old, and dry.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he muttered right next to her ear. She stubbornly shook her head. "No? You're turning a bit red, sweetheart."

His comment only made her blush all the harder and made her just a little more ticked off. Why wasn't he trying harder to stop whatever it was between them? In fact, what the hell was he doing here at all? He had a wife and a marriage to go save – maybe send Astoria to a personality building class or something. What the fuck did she care, so long as she didn't have to be subjected to this anymore?

So, she sighed, shoved his hands off her and began to get up.

"Hey, hey, no!" he said, pulling her back down with his arms around her. "I'm sorry, really."

"No you're not," she angrily muttered.

He snickered. "No, you're right. I'm not." She made to stand up again but he laughingly held her tighter. "Alright, Hermione. You win, I'm so very sorry."

"Oh, that just makes my bloody night, thanks!" she grumbled sarcastically, which just made him laugh all the harder. "Come on, quit it. I've got to get to bed, I'm tired and that goddamn file needs working on in the morning." In reality, she just needed some air to get the smell of him out of her nostrils and the feel of him pressed against her off her skin. Perhaps a shower would do the trick...

But he didn't let go. Instead, he purposefully laid her in his arms. "You could nap right here like this. I wouldn't mind," he said with a big smile. She narrowed her eyes at him, which only made his grin widen. It was truly, disgustingly gorgeous. If he wasn't so pretty, she'd knock his teeth out. Perhaps he ought to consider it anyways. "I'm sorry, Granger, please? No physical violence."

But by that time, she was already ignoring him, instead relaxing into his firm body. He felt divine against her and she had no doubt that she could fall asleep right here like this, completely addicted to the feeling. She knew from experience that the body under the clothes he was wearing was absolutely gorgeous, and now that her son was safely asleep in his bed surrounded by exactly 148 wards, she could properly appreciate Draco's mouth watering physique.

When his hands made their way to her face, neck, and hair, stroking as they saw fit, she nearly melted into oblivion. This was something she could get used to for the rest of her life. It was absolute comfort. On some level, she was surprised he was even capable of such sweetness, but then she knew that there were a lot of things about him that she didn't know of as a child.

When his lips pressed against hers, she knew that this was something that she'd never forget for the rest of her life. If only this had been her first kiss... it was heaven. His lips were soft, yet firm, insistent but not enough to be demanding. It was so sweet that she wanted to cry, almost. She'd waited for this for ages, wanted it since that brief moment in his kitchen those long days ago.

It was heaven, it was absolute paradise. When his tongue gained entry into her mouth, she almost moaned but was too breathless to do so. His hands in her hair, his tongue softly stroking hers, his body pressed against her just as she'd imagined... She could die happy really. This was all she'd ever need, she could live off it!

It wasn't until he softly groaned, just a small sound in the back of his throat, that she realized what she was doing. Then, her eyes snapped open and she had to wrench herself out of his embrace. She fell to the floor, her hand pressed to her lips, staring at him in absolute shock.

What had they done?

It took him a moment to gather himself, his hands still outstretched in the air, as if trying to figure out why she wasn't there. When he realized she was on the floor, nearly clutching herself in panic, his eyes widened. It seemed he was in shock as well, as he didn't say a word, just stared at her with that indescribable expression on his face.

Until she noticed that faint little expression of hurt before it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. But she knew she hadn't imagined it. It was as real as it got.

And then it appeared as if he snapped out of it. "I'm sorry," he nearly gasped. "Um... I don't really know why I did that, to be honest. You were just there and I guess..." He was on his feet before she knew what was happening. It seemed he was debating whether to help her up or just make a run for it.

"Draco," she called to him cautiously.

He cringed at her use of his name, clearly not taking rejection well. If she knew him like she did, he was going to bolt and never speak to her again. The man had a lot of pride and once an idea wormed its way into his head, he never let it go. Sometimes it was a good thing, but other times like now, it was horrific. He took a few steps towards her, bent down and lifted her to her feet in one fell swoop. It was startling.

Before she knew it, he was already in the hallway, fastening his cloak and quickly muttering his excuses and goodbyes. She literally had to run and throw herself in front of the door before he could reach for the doorknob.

"What the hell, Granger?" he asked, refusing to meet her eyes. So it was going to be like that, was it? Granger? Seriously?

"You're not leaving here like this!" she exclaimed, barely reminding herself to keep it down in case the boys woke up upstairs. "You can't just..."

"Can't just what?" he growled, making his way to the kitchen. She had a feeling he was going to escape through the back garden door, but when she burst into the kitchen, he was just pouring himself another glass of the muggle scotch she had bought him to substitute for firewhisky.

He stared at her, waiting for an answer but she just stared at him open mouthed for a minute, trying to gather her words. He raised a brow at her, questioningly. "You kissed me," she blurted out, unthinkingly.

"That I did," he responded bluntly. His expression was deadpan.

"You...have a wife..." she managed to mutter.

That gave him pause. He just stood there, staring at her with a strange expression on his face. He opened his mouth a few times as if to say something to her, but nothing seemed appropriate enough to console her wide eyed awkward expression. When he took a step toward her, as if on instinct, she pressed her back against the wall. There was nowhere to escape to. How had she found herself against a wall, anyhow? If only she could melt into a puddle of her own nerves.

"Is that what you're worried about? My marriage?" he asked. She nodded and he laughed a very strange and completely forced laugh. "You mean to tell me... let me get this perfectly straight, you're worried about me cheating on my wife? My psycho bitch wife? Seriously?"

She nodded hesitantly, checking his expression for confirmation. What the hell was she supposed to say? Was that not a valid concern, really? Was he so nonchalant about cheating on his wife? She didn't know how purebloods went about their marriages, but she sure as hell wasn't the kind of girl who went around sleeping with married men, even if they were dashingly handsome, interesting, and gorgeous...

He cleared his throat and she was forced to stare back at him. It was increasingly difficult to meet his scorching gaze. Moments passed and they stood there in silence. His expression was heavy, as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders and was trying to tell her just that. As if he wanted to tell her everything with just that stare but she couldn't understand because she wasn't on the same page.

"What do you want me to say?" she finally snapped. There really wasn't anything to say. It made her angry. They were in an impossible situation, it was all dead set with no way around it.

Yes, she liked him, but she wasn't about to compromise her morals to get just a small part of him. She wasn't going to sink down to that level – desperate, clingy, silly, disgusting... There was no fucking way she was going to be the "other woman", no way in hell! She wanted to scream but held herself together anyway by taking a deep breath.

"I would like for it not to put a damper on our relationship -"

Well, screw being calm. "What kind of woman do you think I am, Malfoy? I'm not some cheap slag who sleeps around with other women's husbands!" she seethed, finally losing her cool and glaring at him. He stared back at her wide eyed. "I like you, but I'm not willing to... to be some kind of mistress!"

That made him chuckle, the bloody bastard. "Hermione, I'm not suggesting-"

"Not suggesting what?" she interrupted. "Even if you're willing to not have whatever this be out in the open for god knows who to see, I'm not going to waltz around shagging you while everyone knows! I've a reputation! I have morals!"

"Hermione-"

"No! Absolutely not! I refuse to even have this conversation." She wanted to cry when he shook his head sadly, staring at her imploringly. "I think you should leave, Draco," she said slowly, resting her back limply against the wall.

"Hermione, please just-"

"No, this is already hard, you don't have to make it harder than it has to be, alright?" This time tears did start to prick at her eyes. Fate just didn't ever want things to go her way ever, did it? She just hoped she wouldn't have to cry in front of him again. She'd done enough of that to last a lifetime and more! "Please, just leave-"

He was against her in a matter of seconds, taking her breath away. He held her face between his hands, cutting off any potential protests she might have had. "I've filed for a divorce, Granger," he muttered with his lips against her forehead. "We've been legally separated since you brought Scorpius home."

He chuckled quietly at her shocked expression. She must have looked like an absolute idiot standing there pressed between a wall and his warm body, not responding as he placed soft kisses all over her face and neck. "Why didn't you tell me, you big prick?"

He laughed his full bellied laugh, then, but she was still in a fluster of emotions to properly enjoy it. Instead, she cuffed him over the head, which only made him laugh all the harder.

"I wanted to wait until the divorce was finalized and surprise you," he said with a smile. "Ruined the surprise though, just couldn't help myself to your pretty lips, I suppose." She cuffed him over the head again and he laughed harder, whilst picking her up and placing her on the kitchen counter. "You're awfully violent tonight, my little Gryffindor."

"I guess I can't help myself around you, I suppose. I don't feel the need to hit anyone else, after all," she snickered, exaggeratedly flipping her hair over her shoulder. "But seriously, divorce?" she asked, staring at him in concern. "Isn't that really...frowned upon in your circles?"

"What, you'd rather be my mistress behind closed doors?" he asked with a smirk. "Because that's definitely approved of, darling."

She would have smacked him again if she hadn't noted the disgusted undertone to his otherwise playful comment. Instead, she stroked his hair and he seemed to relax like he had all the other times before, completely unaware that he was even doing so. "Aren't you the least bit concerned?"

He hummed deep in his throat, resting his head against her shoulder. They hadn't done this many intimate acts in such a short time period before. It set her heart aflutter, made her throat all choked up with emotion. Her hands were probably shaking, but she wanted this, wanted this to last so bad that she could cry. She continued stroking his hair as he leaned his body against her. The action felt familiar, somehow.

"Should I be concerned? I've you, I've Scorpius," he responded quietly, "And if all else fails, Potter will still give me employment should I need it."

She laughed. "You don't need employment, you're filthy rich!" But instead of laughing along with her, he just pulled her closer to the edge of the countertop so he could hug her more comfortably. His grasp on her felt desperate, needy, things he was probably not willing to voice to her. Draco had withdrawn into himself in that moment for reasons she could not fathom. This wasn't completely uncommon. Ever since he had taken Xenophillus Lovegood into Azkaban, he just hadn't been right. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I'm tired," he muttered quietly into her shoulder. In that moment, Draco Malfoy was once again that lost, vulnerable, confused being that needed someone to hold him together. She didn't know what had caused the shift in him at that moment, but she knew that she would do anything to care of the man before her.

"Let's go to sleep, then," she offered. She hadn't expected him to accept the offer, let alone pick her up and carry her up the stairs to her bed. "That was quick," she commented, but he didn't seem to have heard her. Instead, he just crawled into bed and curled up next to her, nearly clinging.

They lay there silently, his eyes closed as she resumed stroking his hair. She had thought he had fallen asleep against her and was thrilled to have such an experience again. The last time he'd slept against her had been on his deathbed.

She jumped a little when he spoke softly against her neck. "So you'll have me, then?" he muttered. His eyes remained closed but the worry of rejection was apparent on his face, so clear by the way his brow was creased. She couldn't help but smile and smooth out the worry lines.

"Of course, Draco," she responded. "Unless you think I let just anyone into my bed." He chuckled a little morosely at that. She felt brave enough to bend down and press her lips to his cheek. He was asleep against her within moments.

This was all bloody surreal. If anyone had told her Draco Malfoy would be asleep in her bed – asleep, fully clothed and nothing else – she would've laughed and wished it were true. In the space of a night, they'd progressed from careful friends to an all out touching, bed sharing... whatever it was they were now. Was she his girlfriend now all of a sudden? Were they going to do... boyfriend/girlfriend type things now?

She didn't know if she could handle that kind of relationship just like that. They'd barely gotten into the friend phase, let alone... well, whatever came next. She could barely be affectionate with him unless he was going through one of his broken moments. How was she going to handle that kind of intimacy when he was his normal, lucid self? Worry flew through her.

But then, Draco pulled her closer to him in his sleep and she realized that whatever would come would come. She would adjust so long as it was with him.

/

There were candles everywhere. The room was dimly lit, thrown into shadows. Her table was properly set since the first time she had bought the house. There was an actual table cloth, place settings, fine china, and silver! It had never looked cleaner. In fact, she had never liked her house this much before.

She felt a little foolish, standing there by herself, all dressed up. Draco and the boys had quarantined the bottom floor of her humble abode for the better part of the day. She hadn't even been allowed through the front door without being blindfolded! Hugo had then made her dress in her finest, put up her hair, and actually apply makeup. She hadn't wanted to, but had obliged because it had seemed to please him at the time.

Now she was second guessing herself. She had deduced that Draco wanted to throw her a romantic dinner, but what the hell was all this secrecy for? She was just about to walk out back towards the kitchen where Hugo had run off to after leaving her there by herself, when Draco walked in through the door. He was dressed even more elegantly than usual and she couldn't deny how handsome he looked. He smiled brightly at her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"You look lovely," he commented, pulling out her seat at the table. "Please, sit."

She obliged, albeit a little reluctantly. "What exactly is going on?" Before he could answer, the door before her opened once more and in walked little Scorpius and Hugo, smartly dressed in tuxedos. It was unexpected and the most adorable thing she'd ever seen. "Oh my god! Come here, sweetheart, let me see you properly!"

Hugo furiously shook his head and Hermione had to frown. But before she could question it, or even open her mouth, Scorpius stepped forward. "Champagne?" he asked in his already cultured drawl. It reminded her of an expensive restaurant she'd dined at after the war with Ron. They'd been able to afford things like that back then, of course. The only difference was their server hadn't been eight years old. She immediately decided that she liked this better.

It was only then that Hermione realized that Scorpius was holding a silver platter with a very expensive bottle of champagne that had clearly not come from her kitchen. Draco gestured for Scorpius to pour, which he did with a grin before backing away with a half bow.

When Scorpius nudged Hugo in the ribs, he stepped forward with a basket of what appeared to be fine rosemary bread. Hermione had to smile at the careful way he placed the bread precisely the same distance each way between their plates, as if he'd practised it several times before. Then he straightened up, one hand before him with a white napkin over his arm.

"Tonight, we will be serving Cream of Broccoli soup, Salmon fillet with a side of potatoes, vegetables, and salad, and for dessert we will be serving chocolate pie." He paused, as if recollecting himself. "If you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell right here. Have a nice evening!" He removed a silver bell from inside one of his coat pockets and placed it on the table. Finally smiling because he'd remembered everything, he skipped out of the room with Scorpius in tow.

She stared at the still swinging door through which her most adorable son had just gone through and couldn't help the goofy smile that spread on her face. Her head snapped towards Draco when his hand grasped hers over the table cloth.

"Happy Birthday," he said, his voice deep and his smile soft.

"That's not until...?" Her voice trailed off as his thumb began to rub circles into her wrist.

"Next week, I know." He raised her arm to place a gentle kiss on her wrist. "I wanted to have something special tonight in case you wanted to do something with your friends on your birthday." She could see how his eyes darkened on that note, how he resented not having her full attention. It made her a little solemn, but happy that he wanted it in the first place.

She realized his lips were still caressing her wrist. This was possible the second most intimate thing they'd done, beyond...snogging in bed. Draco had realized she needed to move slowly, needed the confirmation of the divorce papers before anything else. She was grateful for it, really.

"I think I might just love you, Mr. Malfoy," she muttered.

He raised his head and winked at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Everything was going quite well for Hermione Granger. She had the perfect man in her life, she had left her dreadful job and was on the search for a more preferably one, and her son had been safely restored to her. So what if she had to go on a job search? She had enough saved for them to last a while. She would manage somehow. The smile on Draco's face told her she'd be alright. And for the first time in five years, Hermione felt quite comfortable with herself.

But she wasn't aware of her beautiful son coughing up a storm in the kitchen, little droplets of blood marring the napkin that had earlier been resting on his arm. Hugo hadn't thought twice about it and Hermione was none the wiser. Instead, she continued to have a lovely meal with her new boyfriend and tried not to think about what her future might bring.

In fact, there were many things occurring at that moment that Hermione and Draco could clearly not anticipate. Angry reporters plotting, Skeeters scheming, lunatics smiling because they knew something everyone else didn't. If only they knew, perhaps it could have ended pleasantly for them. If only...

But how were they to know it wasn't going to be a pleasant picture?

The End

...

For now

A/N: Make sure you review, please! And then read the Author's note that's been posted as another chapter before you go all batshit crazy shouting: THAT'S IT?