Chapter 8

Hermione awoke early on Saturday morning, leaving Draco alone with their children, to meet Pansy at a nearby cafe. She was on her third cup of coffee when Pansy arrived. She had a plethora of excuses for her tardiness, but Hermione assured her it was fine.

"Have you heard the news?" Hermione asked.

With a sour expression, Pansy nodded. "Harry told me last night," she shared. "Is it safe to assume Draco did the same?"

"Yeah, and then he started talking about unhappy marriages and how so many people will be relieved that they can get out of them now," she replied angrily. "He didn't say it exactly, but I think he wants out too."

Pansy sat up straight, eyes wide. "Oh, Hermione, you know that's not true," she said. "Draco loves you."

Hermione shrugged and ordered another cup of coffee. "What if it's like Stockholm Syndrome?" she asked. "What if he only loved me because we were stuck with each other? Or it was all just some act because I said I couldn't have children with someone I don't love? What if he just wanted me to believe he loved me so I would feel comfortable starting a family?"

"Because we really had much a choice there," Pansy mumbled. She and Harry had started their family not long after marrying. After a hard pregnancy with James, they had decided to wait before having their second child. Five years after James's birth, they had Lily.

Sighing, Hermione leaned back in her chair and stared up at the sky. "You know Harry loves you too," she finally told her friend. "He's told me. When he and Ginny didn't work out and the two of you were matched, he was really happy that it was you. You never tried to capitalize on his fame like she did. It was like you didn't care that he was the Chosen One or the Boy Who Lived. You just cared about him. And you know that smile he has when he's really telling the truth. It's there every time he talks about how happy he is to be with you. Draco, however, never smiles anymore. The other night he was talking about how he wishes he could just run away from everything."

"Hermione, be reasonable," Pansy said, her voice soft and empathetic. "The chances of Draco leaving you and the kids is about the same as Harry leaving me and the kids. It's just not going to happen."

Hermione sat up straight, a frown now visible on her lips. "I don't want him to stay with me because of the kids," she replied. "I want him to stay because he loves me."

Christmas 2006

The Potters had left and Draco started a fire in the hearth. When he sat down on the sofa, Hermione handed him a glass of eggnog. "To our last Christmas as a childless couple," he toasted, resting his hand on his wife's abdomen.

She leaned against his side. "It only took us five years," she added.

"Yeah, but what a fun five years," Draco joked. She slapped his thigh, causing him to laugh. "It's not my fault the Ministry assigned me a gorgeous wife who happens to be very...competent in bed."

Hermione shook her head. The past five years had been anything but fun for her. With the Ministry appointed deadline quickly closing in, she feared that they would never have a child. "What do you think the Ministry would have done if we couldn't have children?" she wondered.

"Don't think about that," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "We don't have to worry about that now."

"I know. I was just curious," she replied.

Draco sighed. It wasn't the first time she had asked, but he decided that now he would answer. "I guess they would have split us up," he said. "Assigned us new spouses."

Putting down her glass, she took to playing with her wedding ring instead to distract herself. "Do you ever wonder if that would have been better?"

He groaned, knowing he had willingly opened this can of worms. "How would that have been better?" he asked. "I know that at first we were both unhappy about this - the law, having to get married, everything. Honestly, I never thought I'd be happy with you. I thought we'd hex each other and fight and make one another miserable. Instead, I look forward to work being over so we can go home, have dinner, and sit in front of the telly together all night. I have meant every single 'I love you'."

There were tears in her eyes when he finished speaking, and he wiped away the wet tracks on her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Sometimes I feel like I lose perspective. You've been so wonderful, and here I am doubting it all."

Winding an arm around her shoulders, Draco held her close. "Do you ever wonder how our lives would have turned out if we'd been allowed to marry other people?" he asked.

Hermione had wondered exactly that when they were first married. She imagined what it would have been like had she married Ron. Everyone expected it, and though they weren't together, she was sure that he would come around in time. But things with Draco had changed, become good, and she gave no more thought to being Mrs. Ron Weasley.

"I've never thought about it," he continued when she didn't reply. She eyed him disbelievingly, but he nodded. "It's true. When I found out it was you, it didn't bother me. I knew you wouldn't be happy, so I sort of...pretended to be as bent out of shape as you were. If you had wanted out, I would have gone along with it. But I was able to see a life with you. When I got my letter, I just had a feeling that we could work."

"You really weren't the least bit upset that it was me?" she asked incredulously.

He smirked. "Well," he replied, "maybe a little. That's only because you proved that you could beat me up. No one wants to live with an abusive spouse."

"Have I really been that bad?" she wondered, resting one hand on her stomach and the other on his thigh.

"Not bad at all," he assured her.

Hermione nodded. "It doesn't bother you that Cece will be a halfblood?"

"Cecelia," he corrected, hating the nickname she had given their unborn child. "And no, that doesn't bother me. It doesn't bother me that her mother is a muggleborn. It doesn't bother me that the pureblood line ends with me. It won't bother me if she has green hair and orange skin. All that matters is she's ours. That's why I'll love her."

Glancing up, she flashed him a toothy smile. "You really mean that," she murmured.

"I really mean that," he agreed.