Right...so it was my intention to update my other two stories BUT I'm an idiot and worked on them during my downtime at work (shh, don't tell!) and forgot to bring the flash drive home. I'll have updates for BAL and SMWILF at the beginning of the week, so in the meantime, thanks to everyone that commented on this story (I was shocked so many liked it) and hopefully you enjoy the new chapter!
"I don't believe you."
Draco swallowed hard as he stared at his eldest, recognizing the defiant look on her face. His wife was right - he had no tact - and it wasn't but more than five seconds after Hermione had the two girls sit on the sofa, one on each side of her, when he looked at them and said, "Your mother is coming back to the house - there's nothing else they can do for her." Hermione scowled at him, clearly unimpressed at the way he delivered the news, and as his eldest leapt to her feet, he was suddenly grateful she wasn't of age to use magic outside of Hogwarts, as the conversation was not happening as he had initially hoped it would.
"They've done everything," Draco said, doing his best to keep his voice steady and even. "Your mum was too sick by the time she found out for any of the medicines or potions to have a real effect."
"But you said they could fix this!" Anya exclaimed as a tear streamed down each cheek. "You said she would get better!"
Draco knew what he said. Those words had been haunting him since he left the hospital, words he never should have spoken. But it was too late to go back. "Anya, believe me - if I could have changed the outcome of this I would have."
"Would you?" she asked with a bitter tone. "You're only together because she's sick. You only stuck around because it looks bad to divorce a dying woman!"
"Anya Katherine Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed as the raven-haired girl whipped her head around. Draco looked as if he'd been slapped, and Claire silently sobbed as she leaned into Hermione's chest. Anya sniffled, and Hermione could see by the look on the girl's face that she regretted her harsh words. "Apologize to your father," she said, soft but firm.
Anya bit her lip and sniffled, looking as if she was tearing in two. Turning around, she looked at her father as her shoulders began to tremble. "Daddy I'm -"
Sobs overcame her before she could get out the 'sorry,' and Draco responded by pulling her into a fierce embrace, stroking her long locks over and over again as his daughter soaked his chest with her tears. He looked over at Hermione as she picked Claire up and held his youngest daughter in her lap, rocking back and forth slowly as she softly stroked her back with an open hand.
Claire sniffled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her arm. "I don't want Mummy to die," she said with a quivering voice.
Hermione kissed the top of her head and hugged her close. "I know, Claire Bear. I know."
Anya looked up at her father with her dark brown eyes. "Will she…will she be ok at home?"
Draco nodded, brushing away one of her tears with his thumb. "We'll have nurses in the house when the time comes. The healer will give her medicine to make her comfortable."
Nodding, Anya wiped a few more tears before they could fall down her cheeks. "When will she come home?"
"They should have everything ready in a few hours," Draco replied. "St. Mungo's will send an owl when she is ready. She's taking a nap right now." All of his sentences had been short and punctuated, as if he was purposefully just saying nothing more than he needed to so that he could keep it together. He might have sounded a bit short, but he didn't care what Hermione said about showing his children some emotion. He physically couldn't stomach the thought of his daughters seeing him break down.
He watched as Anya let go of him and retreated back to Hermione, who opened up her free arm as she curled up on the couch, resting her head on her shoulder as she tucked her legs up underneath her bottom. Hermione kissed her forehead, rubbing her arm as Anya cried. Draco looked at Hermione, his shoulders dropped, and she stared back. Draco had never met anyone would be reassuring with just a look before he befriended the girl he spent a previous lifetime tormenting, and in that moment, he realized he'd never been more grateful for her friendship.
"Why don't you go check on your son?" Hermione suggested.
With a reluctant nod, he left Hermione and his daughters in her study and walked across the hall to the spare bedroom where he found his son, snoring softly, as he slept on his stomach with a hand clutched to his small green blankey. Carefully, he picked up his son and cradled him to his chest, slowly rocking as he cuddled him close. He heard his son mumble something in his sleep that sounded an awful lot like the word 'car,' which invoked a small, silent chuckle. The child was obsessed with anything that had a steering wheel, but that wasn't so much Hermione's influence as it was the influence of Hermione's father, Richard.
Quietly, he carried his son out of the spare bedroom and saw Hermione carrying Claire and leading Anya by the hand down to her bedroom. He stood in the hallway and watched as an emotionally drained Anya crawled on top of the plum colored bedding and rest her head against the pillow. Claire looked to be half asleep as Hermione carefully laid his daughter down next to her sister, his heart pulling slightly at how Anya wrapped a protective arm around Claire. Hermione reached for the cream colored throw at the end of her bed and draped it over the two of them. "I'll be out in the living room if you want me," he heard Hermione whisper to Anya.
Standing in the hallway, he rocked slowly as he held his son and was met with a disapproving look from Hermione. She shook her head as she crossed her arms against her chest. "What?"
"No tact. None," she said softly. "Zero."
"You sound like my wife."
Hermione shook her head. "He's only been asleep for about an hour. If you put him down, he'll probably sleep for another hour and a half. If you don't - he's going to wake up sooner."
Draco motioned towards her bedroom. "Are they sleeping?"
Hermione nodded. "Well, Anya's resting. Claire essentially cried her poor self to sleep."
"Car," Scorpius mumbled with a slight head jerk.
Stifling a laugh, Hermione pulled the small boy from Draco's arms and went to lay him back down in the transfigured bed. Shutting the door as she left Scorpius to sleep uninterrupted, Hermione glanced down at the girls sleeping in her room at the end of the hall. "Draco - why don't you go lay down with the girls?"
He shook his head. "I can't."
"You can," she encouraged. "Go. A bit of a nap for all of you wouldn't be the worst thing right now."
"Granger…"
"Don't make me make you," she warned. "Go. Sleep. Comfort your daughters. This won't be the last time they need you like this, so you better get used to it. Starting now."
Draco sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He looked down the hall at his daughters, then back at her. He'd never even seen the inside of her bedroom and now he she was suggesting - demanding - that she go in there and get some rest. "I'm just going to hang out on the couch," Draco said. "If they're asleep they should stay that way for a bit."
Hermione sighed. "Do you enjoy being impossible?"
"Granger - my wife is dying. I've earned the right to be impossible for a moment - and this is the moment I choose to exhaust my right."
"Fine," she said with a roll of her eyes. She followed him down the hallway and could see he was tense, walking the way he used during their sixth year at school. His movements were rigid and telling, but she said nothing. Instead, she walked into her small kitchen while he plopped down into her leather sofa, kicking his shoes off before propping his feet up on the coffee table. She grabbed two beers out of the fridge and popped off the bottle caps, tossing them into the trash as she walked over to him and handed a beer, taking a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. "How was Astoria at the hospital?"
Draco shrugged as she slouched back against the couch, pulling at the knot in his tie. "Scolding me for acting like an ass to the healer." He took a long swing of his beer and swallowed with a sigh. "Do you think I'm making a mistake having her move back to the house? I mean, I didn't exactly give her the option of refusing."
"It will be easier on the children," Hermione said, taking a drink of her beer. "Will you be ok with her back in the house?"
"I never had a problem with Astoria being in the house. I had a problem with us fighting like it was Wizarding War Three over everything," Draco replied with a sigh. "We never should have married."
Hermione let out a snort. "I know how that goes."
Draco let out a wry laugh. "Right. The Weasel. I forgot."
She kicked her leg up and shoved her foot into his thigh. "Oh please! You didn't forget."
"You're right - I didn't," Draco snarked as he took another drink, looking around her condo. "Are you ever going to move back into a real house?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. It's just me, afterall. I don't need a lot of space." Hermione placed her beer on top of a coaster on the coffee table.
"Do you think Anya meant what she said?" Draco changed the subject out of the blue. "That I only stayed married to Astoria because it's bad form to divorce a dying woman?"
"I think she's a teenage girl that is about to lose her mother, and that you can't take everything she says right now seriously," Hermione replied. "She's upset."
Draco looked over at Hermione, the side of his face pressed into the back of the couch. "But what if she's right?"
"Draco, you both made the decision to not go through with the divorce until she was done with her treatment," Hermione said. "It was the right decision to make."
He finished his beer and with the neck of the bottle between his fingers, Draco carefully set it down on the hardwood floor next to the couch. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh and rested his hands on his stomach, his fingers clasped together. "I didn't want her to die," he hoarsely whispered several minutes later.
Hermione grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and gently draped it over him. "Anya knows that," she whispered. Climbing off the couch, she grabbed her beer bottle and Draco's and quietly walked out of the living room, tossing the bottles into the trash can with a slight clink. She busied herself with cleaning up the dishes from lunch, stacking up the mountain of pictures Claire drew with Scorpius' unwanted help on some, and returned the nail polish cabinet behind the mirror over the sink.
Catching her reflection, Hermione pressed her fingers into her cheeks, dragging them outward as she stared at herself. She never thought at thirty-two she'd be living in a condo, divorced, and childless, but she there she stood in that exact life. When her divorce was finalized three years ago, Hermione found herself for the first time in her life with zero direction and filled with rage towards her ex-husband. She couldn't count how many times she asked Ron if he wanted to start a family, how badly she longed for a real family like Harry and Ginny and the rest of his brothers had with their wives. Ron always retorted with the same gimmick of wanting it to be just the two of them, because they'd spent nearly half their life helping Harry defeat Voldermort, and they deserved to be selfish. So she waited. Patiently, Hermione waited for eleven excruciatingly long years for Ron to get his 'selfishness' out of his system.
However, it'd turned out that Ron was being selfish and then some. She remembered the day it came to an end as if it were yesterday, walking into her house and finding four of her suitcases filled to max capacity by the staircase. Ron, with a guilty look on his face as he sat on the couch, hands clasped together, the tops of his ears as red as his hair, looked up at her. She could see his nose looked a bit crooked, and he had a slight cut on his cheek.
"Rough day in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts today?" she teased as she unbuttoned her black peacoat. "Attacked by a rabid jack-in-the-box?"
"I uh…I have something I need to tell you," he managed to say, still sitting on the couch.
Hermione pulled her grey scarf off from around her neck and stared at Ron. "What's wrong?"
Ron vigorously rubbed the palm of his hands on the tops of his legs, taking in a few deep breaths and exhaling slowly. "I've…I've been seeing someone else for the past year, and she told me last week that she's pregnant."
She felt like she'd been hit in the chest with powerful bludger. When Hermione opened her mouth to speak, all the words dissolved before they could reach her lips.
He motioned over towards the suitcases. "I uh, packed up all of your clothes. I'll arrange to have your books and things packed and delivered to wherever you want later this week."
Hermione shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "Excuse me?" she finally managed to ask incredulously.
Ron shrugged somewhat awkwardly as he look at her. "Well, she has a small place, and with a baby, we're obviously going to need a house."
"Right," Hermione scoffed, as if everything he said made sense. Though knowing him as she did, she was aware that in his warped mind, he believed that he'd come up with the perfect plan. Tying her scarf back around her neck, she placed her tote back on her shoulder. With a flick of her wand, she shrunk her suitcases and dropped them into her tote, glaring at Ron the entire time.
"Hermione -"
"Don't!" she cut him off with a hiss. "Don't speak to me. Ever again. Do you understand me?"
It was that same night, oddly enough, that she ran into Draco Malfoy. After dropping her bags off at her parents house, thankful that they were still on holiday because at the moment she didn't have it in her to answer questions, she disapparated from her driveway to Diagon Alley and walked into the Leaky Cauldron.
She walked inside the seedy pub and took a seat on a stool at the bar. Removing her hat with a huff, she unbuttoned her coat and caught the bartender's attention, ordering a butterbeer.
The man next to her laughed, and it was a laugh she'd recognize here. "You don't come to the Leaky Cauldron for butterbeer, Granger."
Hermione looked to her right and saw Draco staring at her with a smirk. "Shut it, Malfoy," she snapped. "I'm in no mood for your general brand of humor and insults at the moment."
He was nursing a glass of fire whiskey, with an empty glass sitting in front of him. "So the Weasel told you then, eh?"
Eyes wide, Hermione took the butterbeer from the bartender and glared. "You knew!"
"Yes, but by accident," Draco replied with a snort. "I went to drop off paperwork to Potter's office this afternoon and when I walked in, I saw Potter haul off and hit him in the face."
That explains the nose, Hermione thought to herself as she took a drink. "Well, good for Harry," she managed to reply, staring straight ahead as she bounced her knee. She took a sip of her drink and sighed. "Shouldn't you be at home?" she asked after a few moments of silence.
Draco downed the rest of his fire whiskey and motioned for the bartender to grab him another. "I'm avoiding my wife at the moment."
"And might I ask why?"
"Because she's a bitch," Draco replied simply. "She hates being a stay at home mother, so I tell her to get a bloody job. Or a hobby. Which then makes me an asshole because I'm not being 'sympathetic' to her needs. I've cut back my hours at work. I let her go and do Merlin knows what and spend foolish amounts of money on the weekend while I entertain Anya and Claire - and it's not enough. She's miserable and isn't happy unless everyone else is miserable with her. So I'm drinking until I get a tolerable buzz to disapparate home without splinching myself, and hopefully, it will make tonight's round of yelling a bit more bearable."
Hermione nodded. "I see."
Draco sighed as he took his new glass, the bartender removing the two empty ones from the bar. "I shouldn't call her a bitch," he backtracked. "We're just rubbish together."
"Then why did you marry her?" she asked.
"I had no choice. It was arranged."
Hermione pursed her lips together as she stared into her drink. "Who is it?"
"Who is what, Granger?"
She looked at him. "Who did my idiot husband knock up and have an affair with right under my nose?"
Draco grimaced as he took a drink. "Give me your wand."
"What?"
"Give me your wand," he replied. "I'm not telling you unless I have your wand so you can't curse the messenger."
Hermione hastily grabbed her wand from her pocket and thrust it into Draco's hand. "Now tell me. Who is it?"
"Lavender Brown," Draco bluntly replied.
Walking out of the bathroom, she went to check on the girls but only found Claire sound asleep. Looking down the hallway in the other direction, she saw Anya standing over Draco, gently brushing a hand over his head. With her arms across her chest, she walked towards her and stopped where the hallway ended and the living room began. She leaned against the wall and sighed.
Anya looked up at Hermione, her eyes red rimmed, and bit her lip. "Everything's going to change now, isn't it?"
Hermione took a deep breath and stared sympathetically at the sad girl in front of her. "I'm afraid it already has."
Astoria, much like the man she married, did not come equipped with a lot of patience. Having an arranged marriage, for example, was convenient and acceptable for her when she married three weeks after her eighteenth birthday. It saved her the time and trouble of having to be courted eligible wizards who, in all reality, probably didn't have a chance of getting through the first date, let alone scheduling a second one. Early in their marriage, she and Draco had a wonderful time together. Their daughter was born eleven months after they were married, three weeks after Draco turned nineteen, and all the two ever heard about was not about the daughter that was here, but the son they needed to have.
When Draco decided he wanted to be an auror, Astoria was furious. It left her alone for days and weeks, sometimes months at a time with the baby, and it was not the life she thought she'd signed up for. Ginny Potter was in the same boat as she, and the two would often get together and let their children play together while they talked, but Astoria didn't have much in common with the redheaded witch. Hermione Granger was also usually at Ginny's house for the play dates, as she often kept Ginny company when Harry was away. While Astoria never really cared for Hermione in school, Astoria did notice that her daughter took a keen liking to the witch, always excited to see her and always wanting Hermione to hold her.
After Claire was born, the pressure from both sides to produce an heir became unbearable, and the endless amounts of fighting began. Here Astoria was with two daughters when her intention was to only have one son, all the while lacking in maternal instincts. Claire, much like her sister, became fond of Hermione during their visits with Ginny, James, and Albus, a few years older than her youngest at the time. Astoria found herself jealous of Ginny as she was able to produce a son to carry on the Potter name, and of Hermione for how confident and calm she appeared around children - hers in particular.
Astoria's hostility manifested from various points as the years went on. Having three children instead of just one. Not living a glamorous lifestyle like she thought the wife of a Malfoy lived. She envisioned a life of balls and galas, mingling with only the most influential and important pureblood wizarding families but instead, she chased after three children tirelessly while her husband had the gall to actually enjoy the chasing around. Astoria blamed Harry Potter for her husband's interest in becoming the doting father Draco never had. Astoria was fine leaving the children in the care of house elves, but Draco refused to allow it. When they separated and had divorce papers drawn up a year after Scorpius was born, she didn't put up a fight when Draco asked for the children to remain in his house as their primary home. He was better equipped to handle the three of them than she ever was, even if he was sometimes too blunt and too ill tempered.
When she became sick, everything changed. The divorce was put on hold, and Draco had handled it better than she thought he would. Astoria spent the entire year since her diagnosis allowing Draco to drag her to every muggle specialist and wizarding healer in Europe. For a woman who had little patience, she suddenly found herself with an abundance of it, never once complaining when Draco came up with another 'plan' or another 'resource' to exhaust in finding a cure for her cancer. Astoria knew she wasn't going to survive the cancer, despite the treatments. She didn't know how, but something inside of her managed to find peace with the unfavorable result.
While letting Draco formulate his plans, Astoria somehow located the maternal instincts she swore she never had, and managed to bond with her older daughters as someone who did more than buy them clothes and toys. Her son came with an abundance of unconditional love and loved to cuddle with anyone who was a willing participant, and so the two of them spent many days in bed, playing with the funny muggle cars that Hermione gave to him, reading stories, and napping together. The more she bonded with her children, Astoria became aware of the time she had wasted with them, and it soon would become the only regret she had.
She also managed to lose her guard when it came to Hermione Granger. They certainly weren't best friends, but Astoria could see, even if they couldn't, that somehow Hermione and Draco had a connection. When Astoria would fight with her husband, it would be over the most trivial things with screaming to the point of Draco walking away and slamming a door. When he and Hermione would have spats, at least the ones she'd witnessed at the Potters, they were over something worth debating, but even as they traded barbs with one another, Astoria could see they were having fun. She'd never witnessed two people who enjoyed having a row with one another until Draco and Hermione were in the same vicinity.
Astoria did feel somewhat sad for Hermione when her marriage to Ron unraveled. Granted, she wanted a divorce as well and hadn't found a way to make it happen, let alone broach the subject, but she did take comfort in knowing that no matter how bad it got between Draco and her, she knew Draco would never cheat on her. She remembered the day that Hermione came to their house, knocking on the door like a muggle despite having access to their floo through the network.
"Yes?" Astoria asked, eyeing the witch in front of her as she wondered bothering to take a look in the mirror at her current disheveled appearance.
Hermione shoved her hands into her coat pockets. "Might I borrow your husband for the afternoon?"
"For what, might I ask?" Astoria inquired with look.
"Ron's been cheating on me for a year with Lavender Brown and he's apparently knocked her up. He wants to arrange for my things to be moved out of the house, but I'd rather he not touch anything that belongs to me at the moment, so Harry's offered to help me move. But I need another set of hands, and with your husband, I have the added benefit that it will annoy Ronald to no end."
Astoria opened the front door wider and motioned for Hermione to come inside. "Ron cheated on you - with that wretched girl?" She shut the door and made a face. "I didn't know he had it in him."
"Yes, well, he does. I beg for a child the moment we get married, and he goes and not only cheats on me, but is now having a child with her," Hermione replied hotly, and for a moment, she felt sympathy towards her.
Nodding, Astoria called for an elf and instructed him to wake up Draco. "I did plan on having Draco watch the girls for me while I did a bit of shopping in the city, but far be it from me to deny the man an opportunity to put a burr in Weasley's ass for an afternoon."
Hermione nodded. "Thanks."
Of course, the jealousy would always kick in for Astoria regarding Hermione when Draco would start a suggestion with the words, "Granger said." Granger said to try this restaurant. Granger said that if we do this, the baby might sleep through the night. I hope you like this restaurant - Granger said it is brilliant. Granger, Granger, Granger - it was like nails on a chalkboard to Astoria. She didn't know what infuriated her more - the fact that Draco confided in her about what was going on or the fact that he took her suggestions and used them. Of course, it wasn't like Astoria ever gave him a suggestion. She was the dutiful wife, just as her mother and mother-in-law encouraged her to be, and those kinds of wives didn't give suggestions to their husbands.
As she waited in her room for her husband to arrive to take her back to the home they used to share, she remembered the day she went and told Draco about her diagnosis. She remembered how she thought it to be a cruel joke - considering the fact that once she found the courage to get out of her miserable marriage and finally on the same page as her ex-husband to be, she was smacked in the face with a disease that baffled muggles and wizards alike.
After leaving her husband's office, Astoria walked across the hall and knocked on Hermione Granger's door. She heard the door unlock, and Astoria entered, finding Hermione organizing her desk and checking tasks off of a list. "Astoria," Hermione said, somewhat surprised. Of course, it wasn't as if the two were close, so Astoria wasn't shocked by her tone. "Can I…do you need something? If Draco isn't in his office I'm sure I can find him for you."
Astoria shook her head. "I just came to tell you that I have cancer, and I just told Draco. Do me a favor and wait five minutes before checking on him. He seems a bit shocked by the news."
She watched as Hermione blinked her eyes, somewhat slowly as she absorbed the news. "I…I…Astoria," she stammered. "I'm so sorry. How bad is it?"
"Bad," Astoria plainly replied. "I'll know more later this week. Just…make sure he doesn't go and do anything completely stupid, will you?"
"Cer…certainly," Hermione said, a hand held over her heart.
"Remember - five minutes," Astoria reminded her, and left the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without another word.
With a knock on the door, Astoria straightened up in her bed, smoothing out her blouse and skirt she'd changed back into after she woke from her nap. "Come in," she called out.
Draco walked into the room, pushing an empty wheelchair. "Your chariot awaits, milady," he teased.
"I'm not leaving in that," Astoria said with an offending glare towards the chair. "I can walk just fine."
"It's hospital policy," Draco retorted.
"I'm not dead yet," Astoria snarked. "I can walk."
Draco gave her an unamused look. "Get in the bloody chair. Once we're home you can walk around to your heart's content."
She sighed, but relented anyway. Astoria got up from the bed and sat in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. "I'll need to have someone go by the flat to collect my things."
"I'll send one of the elves over this evening," Draco replied as he pushed her through the hospital halls. "Your potions and medicines will be delivered tomorrow, with a schedule, and I have nurses lined up to be on call if we need them."
"When," she said.
"When?"
He stopped pushing her as they reached the hospital exit. She took her purse from him as she stood to her feet. "Needing the nurses isn't an if, Draco. It's a when."
Draco opened the door of the town car, as the driver was already in the front seat with the engine running. "Get in the car, Astoria," he said with a sigh. "The children are waiting."
The drive out to their home - Draco's home - was about forty minutes outside of the city. The two of them sat on opposite ends of the back seat, each of them holding the other's hand as it rested on the middle seat as they rode out to the countryside. It wasn't until they were about halfway home that Astoria finally broke the silence between them.
"How did the girls take it?"
"Not well," Draco replied. "And you were right - I lack tact."
She sighed. "Draco…"
"They were sad, but that was to be expected," Draco replied. "Claire cried herself into a nap, Anya yelled, then Anya cried, and then Granger took care of them. She's good with them. The children, that is."
Astoria nodded, as she watched the countryside pass through the tinted window. "She always has been."
"Granger would have been a good mother."
"She still young. She has time."
"I guess," Draco replied, his gaze fixed on the window as he watched the countryside pass by.
"They're here!" Hermione heard Claire shout as she ran down the stairs. "They're here, Hermione! Mummy and Daddy are home!"
Anya looked up from her book she was reading on the couch and over at Hermione, who was collecting things as Scorpius brought them to her. So far she had one of his shoes, a book, his blankey, a coaster, a marker, and one of his cars sitting in her lap. His way of giving things to people included him saying 'see it!' repeatedly until you took the object from his tiny hands.
As the front door opened, Scorpius whipped his head around. "Mum!" he squealed, running as fast as his little legs could carry him. "Mum! Car! See it! Car!"
Astoria knelt down and picked up her son, kissing his cheek as she took the car from him. "I see it, Scorp. It's a car."
"Car!" he exclaimed again. "Daddy - car!"
Draco ruffled his blond locks and laughed. "Yes, buddy, it's a car."
Claire came barreling into the front room and collided into Astoria's legs, hugging them tight. "Mummy I'm so glad you're home!" she exclaimed, sniffling a bit. She looked up at her mother, her lip trembling slightly. "Daddy says you can't get better anymore."
Astoria put Scorpius down and gave her youngest daughter a proper hug. "It is true, but we're going to make the best of the time we have together, I promise."
She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Mummy I don't want you to die."
"Shhh," Astoria cooed, kissing her forehead. "We don't need to talk about any of this right now, ok?" She took her hand and walked into the living room and sat down next to Anya on the couch opposite of Hermione. "How about you tell me what you did with Miss Hermione today."
Claire nodded. "I drew you pictures today because I thought you had to stay at St. Mungo's. They were to hang up in your room."
"Well maybe we can hang them in the guest room where I'll be staying," Astoria said.
"They're in the kitchen - I'll go and get them!" Claire exclaimed as she scampered out of the room.
Astoria looked over at Anya, noting that her toenails were a particularly horrendous shade of pink and glitter. "You're toenails are…interesting."
"It's on my fingers too," Anya replied, going back to her book.
"Clearly," Astoria replied, taking note of her hands. She looked over at Draco, who was standing near the fireplace, resting a hand on the mantle. "I'm sorry your father didn't allow you to come to the hospital today to see me. I hope you still aren't upset with him."
Anya shrugged, flipping a page. "I'm over it." Hermione cleared her throat to catch Anya's attention, and when she did, she gave her a look and nodded towards Astoria. Closing her book once more, she sat up and leaned her head against her mother. "I'm sorry," Anya whispered.
"Here they are, Mummy!" Claire exclaimed as she reentered the room, stopping right in front of Astoria. "Scorpius scribbled on some of them, so we don't have to hang those," she explained with a slight air of disgust. "But these pictures are my best ones. And see - this one has you and me and Anya and Scorpius and Daddy!"
Astoria admired the artwork with a nod. She pointed to a stick figure that was tall with brown curly q's around her head. "Who is this person? Aunt Daphne?"
"No, that's Hermione!" Claire cried. "Aunt Daphne doesn't have curly hair, Mummy."
"Of course. How silly of me."
Hermione moved the collection odd things from Scorpius off of her lap and onto the coffee table. Her hair was down now, as she cleaned herself up a bit from earlier in the day. Straightening out her light pink cardigan, she kissed the top of Scorpius' head as he walked by. "Well, I will be going now," she said. "If you need anything," she said, looking at Astoria, then over to Draco, "please just ask."
"Actually, Hermione, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind joining us for dinner," Astoria commented.
Hermione stuck her hands in the pockets of her navy blue jeans. "I don't know, Astoria. You all probably have a lot to talk about. Maybe another night."
"Please," Astoria simply requested, locking eyes with the woman. "I'd actually like to talk to you, once the children are in bed."
Confused, Hermione looked back at Draco, who merely shrugged, then back to Astoria. "Um, well, I guess I can stay then. If that's what you'd like."
"Wonderful," Astoria replied. "I will have the elves start dinner at once."
