She drew her knees up, pulling them in close. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she sat in silence. Draco watched her, unsure what to do. Hermione was so focused on not crying, and on trying to remember what had happened that she forgot he was there. He shifted his weight on the bed, watching her.

Hermione jumped as Draco shifted. She had completely forgotten he was there. Her head shot up, looking straight at him, unflinching. Concern reflected in his grey eyes, and she had no idea why he, of all the people, would care. He probably thought the whole situation was funny. Hell, how did she know he didn't do anything to her why she was unconscious?

He couldn't stop the concern showing on his face. He focused on trying to lose any expression on his face, but his attempts were unsuccessful. He had developed slight feelings for her during their years at school, but with him being a Malfoy, and she a Mudblood, nothing could have ever happened. But the war was over...but she was married...

"Malfoy, why are you still here?" Her voice was cold and icy as she glared at him.

He was caught off guard, not expecting her harsh reaction. "Uh, I live here?" The expression on her face didn't move at all, indicating that his words were not what she wanted to hear. Silence came over the room as he considered what to say or what to do. Finally he decided to stay quiet, walking to the door.

"You should get some sleep Herm...Granger. But would you like me to send your children in first?" He kept his voice soft and low. She shook her head, her hair bouncing around her. Draco watched in amusement, marvelling at how her once bushy hair had grown out into smooth curls.

She looked at him, glaring at his staring. He didn't even appear to notice. She cleared her throat, immediately pulling him from whatever fantasy land he was in. A flush of pink lightly danced across his cheeks as he came back to reality, slipping out the door and shutting it silently as he realised he had been caught.

The second the door shut the torrent of tears she had been holding back flooded down her cheeks. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe through her sobs. Raped? Ron? No, he couldn't have. She repeated 'he couldn't have, he couldn't...' over and over in her head. Chanting. Trying to convince herself that she was right; that Ron, her love, couldn't do that to her. He's not the kind of guy who does that. She shook her head to clear the images that had forced their way into her brain. Images of the bruises and bumps she had gotten at one point or another, the china and dinnerware that had been broken at one point or another, the tears that had fallen, often, and always, always because of him.

He is capable of it, capable of anything violent. And you know it. Don't try and fool yourself Hermione, you won't succeed. A twisted, sneering voice swirled through her mind. She inhaled sharply at the sound. For a moment she thought someone had planted their voice in her head, but common sense made her realise it was her; her mind, her conscious. And it was right.

Draco leaned against the closed door, carefully listening. Just as he expected, she began to cry the second the door clicked shut. For a moment he wished he could do something to ease her pain, but shook the thought from his mind. She didn't want his help. She didn't want to need his help.

A shuffling sound came from somewhere close to him. From the ground where he was sitting, he glanced around, spotting the curly head of hair belonging to Rose. She peeked at him from a doorway, watching him quietly. As he noticed her, she came out of her hiding position, lightly walking over to him. Hesitantly she looked down, smiling with relief when he patted the ground beside him, allowing her to sit.

Rose stretched her legs out as she sat next to Draco. In the small time she, and her younger brother, had been living with him, she had grown closer to the man. She leaned into his side, happy when he didn't pull away. Her mother had always been the affectionate one, her father the distant one. But here, this man, Scorpius' father, was kind and caring. In a way, he reminded Rose of her mother, they were quite alike. Even if neither of them would ever admit it.

"Is she going to be okay?" She asked quietly, her chocolate brown eyes, inherited from her mother, looked into Draco's grey eyes. He sighed, frowning slightly.

"She will be. It might take a while...it will take a while, but she will be." He looked at Rose, marvelling at just how much she looked like her mother. She didn't look much like her father at all, luckily. Rose relaxed, then sat up straight.

"Do you think we could see Aunt Ginny sometime? It would be good for Mum." She looked at him, a picture of wide eyed innocence. He considered it. He didn't really like Weasley, or her husband, Potter. But if Rose wanted it, and if Hermione wanted it, then it couldn't hurt. Much.

Truth was, Rose wanted someone familiar around. She had tried to contact them when her mother had been attacked, but the floo powder was always kept out of her reach.

"Would you like to see them?" That he could do, probably. He figured he could call them through the floo; ask to talk to them to their faces, taking Rose with him of course. They would be more likely to talk if she was there. Rose nodded once, and then hesitated.

"What's wrong?" He looked down at the little girl, who looked around fearfully. She bit her lips together, the exact same way her mother did when she was trying not to cry. Rose wasn't as successful as her mother though, and she let a stream of tears slid down her face. He put his hand under her chin, pulling her head up gently. He brushed most of the tears away, imagining for a moment she was his daughter, not Ron's.

"Rose?" She slowly stopped crying, looking up into his grey eyes. She was so innocent and sad that he couldn't help but hug her. "Rose?" She leaned into him, glad to have someone other than her mother who cared so much.

"Will he be there?" Her voice was just above a whisper. At first Draco was confused as to whom she was meaning, but it quickly hit him. Rose was scared of him, of her father. Internally, he smirked. Draco used to be the one people were scared of, not Ron. Draco was the mean bully, not Ron. But now the tables had turned.

"I'll protect you Rose. He won't get to you, or your mother, Or Hugo." He figured that would stop the girl from feeling to upset. So, why was she still looking scared? He raised one eyebrow silently.

"What about you and Scor?" Her question confused him. Why would she, a child of two-thirds of the Golden Trio, care about an ex Death Eater and his son? He didn't know what to say. Finally he guessed what would make the girl stop her worrying.

"He won't hurt any of us." He tried to sound reassuring. And it obviously worked; Rose smiled and jumped to her feet. He looked at her expectantly.

"Are you coming?" She demanded, standing with her little hand on her hip. She is her mother's daughter.

"Where?" He asked, humouring her.

"To call Aunt Ginny," She attempted to roll her little eyes, but they didn't go around properly. It was extremely cute, and he couldn't help but laugh. She held out his hand, trying to pull him up as soon as he put his hand in her smaller one.

"Now?" He was alarmed, thinking he might have at least a few hours before he would have to face the wrath he knew as the Potters. Rose stood with both her hands on her hips, her brow furrowed as she stared at him. Yes, she is definitely her mother's daughter. He couldn't help but think as she pulled him behind her to the fireplace.