IX.
Escorted by Harry and Kingsley Shacklebolt, Draco left Azkaban for Malfoy Manor. For the remainder of his sentence, the Ministry would track him with a trace similar to the one used on underaged students. But Draco didn't mind. His child was behind those large, imposing doors, and he had no intention of ever leaving her. He wanted to run, leaving his counterparts in his dust, but knew it would be undignified. Though, he would admit that he had little concern with propriety.
Harry smirked, sensing his impatience. "Go. We'll catch up," he murmured. After thanking him, Draco took off for the front door. Kingsley's dark brows rose as humor lit his eyes. "What? The guy has a kid he'd like to meet. I'm not completely heartless when it comes to the Malfoys. His mother did save my life, after all."
"Forgiving his mother does not mean you've forgiven him," Kingsley said wisely. "Hermione hasn't seen the Weasleys in months. I hope you don't intend to turn your back on her now that he's home."
Harry shook his head. "I won't," he vowed. "She knows I won't." While Ron's terms for friendship were all or nothing, Harry had been more willing to take things one day at a time. Hermione was alone, save for Narcissa, and he couldn't walk out of her life. "I think he really cares about her. I can't fault him for that."
The men entered the manor long after Draco had. The blond stood in the foyer with a little girl, bundled in pink blankets, in his arms. Harry rounded him to greet Hermione, and noticed the tears in Draco's eyes as he kissed his daughter's forehead. "I don't think he ever intends to let her go," Hermione whispered, resting her head on her friend's shoulder. "I think he's in love."
"Who isn't in love with her?" Harry questioned as Eleanor began to cry.
Draco looked up, gray eyes wide and scared. "What did I do?" he asked.
Smiling, Hermione escorted him upstairs to feed the baby in private. "You're going to have to give her up," she said, taking a seat on the small sofa inside her bedroom. "This is kind of a job only I'm equipped for."
Blushing, he did as she requested and turned away. "So, the room looks the same," he commented. "What made you choose this one?"
Hermione shrugged as she adjusted her daughter in her arms. "It's yours," she replied. "Thinking you'd be gone for five years, I wanted to be someplace that had some memory of you. If you want it back, I'll understand."
When he turned to face her, his brows furrowed. "I kind of thought we'd be together," he admitted. "I had these big ideas about what would happen when I was released. We'd buy a house, someplace that was just right for a family of three. After the right amount of time passed, I'd propose and we'd get married. I had this whole scenario planned out where I spend the rest of my life with you, but I understand if that's not what you want. After everything I've done to you, I don't think I deserve to get to keep you."
"What about what I want?" she asked with a frown. "Because there's a saying, 'to the victor goes the spoils,' and last I checked, my side won."
He inched closer, glancing up every so often to make sure she wanted him to be near. When she didn't protest, he sat down beside her. "I love you," he said, staring down at the floor.
"I know," she replied, "which is why this will work."
X.
Despite being home, Draco found it hard to sleep. While Hermione slumbered in the king-sized bed that had once been his, Draco made himself as comfortable as he could in the rocking chair beside Eleanor's cradle. When she fussed, he was by her side, consoling her, feeding her, changing a dirty nappy. Each night, after Hermione had fallen asleep, he cast a silencing charm over the bed. If Eleanor cried, her mother was unaware, and Draco was more than happy to tell her the baby had slept through the night. He knew she didn't believe it, but she seemed grateful, nonetheless, for a good night's sleep.
"Come on, sweetheart, quiet down," Draco pled as he rocked his daughter while pacing the large room. "Please, Ellie, I know you're tired."
The door opened quietly and closed with a gentle click. Narcissa cleared her throat to get her son's attention, but Draco was unwilling to give it. "May I help?" she asked, approaching him.
Draco held his daughter tighter. "She's mine," he replied bitingly.
"I know," she said softly. "I have no intention of taking her away. Your father was often away from home when you were Eleanor's age. In fact, he spent the first four months of your life in Azkaban for using an Unforgivable on another wizard. Like Hermione, I gave birth without my husband by my side. I remember when your father was released. He was quite the same way you are now."
Draco scowled. "Thank you for comparing me to the man who ruined my life," he muttered. "I'm so glad he's been such a good role model for me."
Placing a hand on his arm, Narcissa ceased his pacing as Eleanor began to calm down. "That wasn't what I meant," she stated, teeth clenched. "We both know that you are nothing like him. The longer he was home, the less interested he became in his role as your father. Yes, like you've been doing, he would dote on you and let no one else near you. The difference, my dear, is I know you won't lose interest the way he did."
Draco settled Eleanor in the cradle, and frowned when he turned back to his mother. "He really wasn't interested in being a father?" he asked. "Or did he just disapprove of me?"
Sighing, she sat down on the settee in front of the fireplace. The last embers were beginning to die out, but they still provided warmth. "Lucius had his own ideas of what his son should be," she admitted. "He thought you should be intelligent and manly and superior, and when you didn't live up to his quite lofty ideals, he found it easier to turn his back on you. That was always the Malfoy way. His own father treated him the same. Some men, though, choose to break the mold. Some men decide to be the kind of father they never had, but truly wanted. I think that's the kind of father you'll be."
XI.
"We should move," Draco declared. They had been in Diagon Alley for only a few minutes, but all eyes were on the young couple pushing the pram.
"We're not exactly an expected sight," Hermione replied. "Besides, they're probably all wondering what you're doing here when you're supposed to be locked up."
A routine visit to St. Mungo's for Eleanor and a check-in with the Minister of Magic had given Draco the opportunity to see something other than Malfoy Manor. He knew a stroll through the alley would produce the exact results it had, but he had foolishly hoped that people would mind their own business. Instead, they sneered and whispered about the pair as they walked past.
"I'm tired of being a headline," he muttered, pushing the pram toward the Leaky Cauldron.
They entered the pub and prepared to floo home. Draco held Eleanor protectively, shielding her from prying eyes or paparazzi cameras. With a wave of her wand, Hermione shrunk the pram to a size that would fit in the diaper bag she carried. With the task finished, she looked to Draco, ready to leave. "Ignore them," she cautioned, seeing the anger in his eyes. "Remember - you hit them, you go back to Azkaban. To be quite honest, I've come to enjoy sleeping at night, so don't do that."
The joke took a bit of the bite out of his attitude, and he chuckled softly. "Still, I think we should move," he replied. "Talk the Minister into it, will you?"
Hermione laughed as they stepped into the floo. "I think I'm all out of favors," she told him. "Besides, we can't leave your mother. She'll be all alone in that big, old house with nothing but bad memories to keep her company."
They returned to Malfoy Manor and the suite the family of three had occupied since Draco's release. "She could come with us," Draco suggested, undressing the baby from her winter wear. Hermione looked at him skeptically. "What? It's not like I want to live with my mother, but I do feel responsible for taking care of her. After everything she's done for you and Ellie, I can't walk away from her. You though...I don't know. Maybe you should be someplace that's more comfortable. Are you really okay living here?"
"Your mother took me in when I had nowhere else to go," she stated. "I know you worry about the nightmares, but they would still come if we lived somewhere else. What matters is that you're here with us. I don't care where we are, so long as you're there too."
Turning to face her, he handed Eleanor to her before kissing her. "I'm not going anywhere," he vowed.
XII.
"I don't get it," Blaise said, holding the youngest Malfoy apprehensively. "How did this even happen?"
Rolling his eyes, Draco relieved his friend. "Well, Blaise, when a man and a woman really love each other-"
"Not that," Blaise cut in. "I mean you and Granger. How did that start? Why did it start? How did no one know? I mean, it wasn't until she showed up at your trial that anyone even began to put the pieces together."
Draco shrugged, not caring if his friend knew the private details of his relationship. "We had our reasons," he muttered cryptically. "Besides, I didn't call you over here to gossip about my love life. I need a favor."
"But we can gossip later?" he asked facetiously, receiving, in reply, a glower from Draco. "Okay, fine. What's the favor?"
"Find Hermione's parents," Draco requested. Dark brows furrowed as Blaise asked for more details. All Draco could offer was money and the vaguest idea of a location. Hermione had sent them to Sydney, but both knew it was a lot of ground to cover. "Take Pucey with you. He's good with memory charms. Besides, two locator charms is better than one. The sooner, the better too. If you could have them home by the end of the month, I'll see to it that the both of you get a nice bonus."
"Why the end of the month?" Blaise wondered as Eleanor began to cry.
Groaning, the blond stood to rock his daughter before summoning a bottle. "Because I would like to propose to my girlfriend, the mother of my child, and her parents should be here for that," he explained. "Besides, she told my mother she wouldn't get married until her parents were home."
Though he agreed to take the job, Blaise couldn't help expressing his concerns. "What if they don't want to come back?" he wondered. Gray eyes widened, full of questions he hoped his friend might answer. "It's just...everyone knows what Granger did and why. I don't know enough about muggles or muggles with magical children, but I'm guessing her parents won't be thrilled to have had magic used against them. Especially when the reason for it was so she could go off to fight a war. What if, once they find out what's happened, they don't come back?"
"Just get them here," Draco stated. "We'll deal with explanations when the time comes."
