We had some really terrifying sounding wind last night. I'm not a fan of anything that wakes me up, and less a fan of things that make me think my house is going to be blown away a la The Wizard of Oz. So, yeah, it wasn't a good night.

Chapter 9
Father and son returned quietly to the living room. Draco sat down beside Hermione, who was conversing with his mother. Leo crawled from her lap to his and smiled brightly at him. "Papa looks mad, Daddy," the little boy whispered.

Draco frowned when his wife's eyes settled on him and her conversation came to a halt. "Where's your sister?" he asked.

"She went up to her room to get a book," Hermione told him. "Will you come with me to put the food out?"

Setting Leo down on the sofa, he rose and followed Hermione to the kitchen. Silently, she pulled the roast from the oven and set it atop the stove. With a flick of her wand, it began to carve itself. When her focus was once again on Draco, she needed to say no words to get him to talk. "Did you and my father really find me passed out in a gutter?" he asked.

"We did," she confirmed as she picked up the pot of mashed potatoes. "Grab the roast, will you?"

"Why didn't you tell me that?" he asked, doing as she ordered.

She sighed and turned back to face him. "Haven't I told you enough horrible things?" she wondered. "Besides, that's a night I'd rather not relive."

He nodded. Over the past few weeks, he had come to better understand just what his future self had put her through. "I just didn't know how involved my parents were," he replied.

"They weren't at first," she told him. "I was ashamed to tell them about your behavior. Your father vehemently objected to our being together, and I thought that not being able to handle you would just further his belief that we never should have married. You were missing for two days. Leo was only a few months old and Ayla was sick. That's when I went to your parents, begged for help. Narcissa was mad at me for not telling them sooner. Your father stormed out muttering something about killing you. He came back a few minutes later, hugged me, and promised that he would help me find you."

"That's when you found me in the gutter?" he asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Hermione shook her head and his face fell. How many times had he put her through this? Why had she bothered to stay with him? Again, there were more questions he didn't want answered.

Removing her wand from her sleeve, she cast a warming charm on the food. "You were holed up, drunk out of your mind, at Blaise's," she told him. "Would you believe that I didn't even know where he lived? Best man at our wedding, and he never gave me his address. Thankfully, your father had it. He fired Blaise the next day."

Draco set his platter back down on the stove. "Yeah, but it didn't seem to help matters, did it," he muttered.

"No, it didn't," she agreed softly. "Come on, let's go eat."

He nodded, though his appetite was long gone. Exiting the kitchen, he followed Hermione to the dining room and placed the platter of pot roast in the center of the table. Narcissa had taken a seat beside Ayla, and Lucius was making his way to sit next to Leo. The little boy glanced at his father nervously. "Father, why don't you take the head of the table," Draco suggested.

"Daddy, why you don't call your daddy Daddy?" Leo asked.

He shrugged as he cut up his son's dinner. "I don't know, buddy. I just don't," he replied. He slid the plate over to Leo. "Eat up."

Narcissa cleared her throat. "It's nice to have the whole family together," she commented. "It's been too long. Hermione, you always put together a lovely meal when you have us over."

Hermione bowed her head politely, ready to offer her mother-in-law any recipe she may desire. Lucius's question dampened any hope of a peaceful meal. "A drink, Draco?" he asked. "I believe firewhiskey was always your favorite."

"Lucius," Narcissa admonished.

Draco held up a hand. "No, Mum, it's fine," he said. He turned to his father and smiled. "I'm fine with water," he told him as nicely as he could.

"Really?" Lucius inquired, his gray eyes narrowing.

"Well, my son told me I smelled funny, so I've given it up," Draco replied. He turned to Leo then, who ate quietly. "What do you think, buddy? Am I still stinky?"

The little leaned in closely and took a tentative sniff. "No, smell good," he declared, returning to his dinner.

Hermione and Narcissa fought to hide their chuckles behind their hands. Draco shot his wife a mirthful look, one eyebrow raised. "You should maybe start showering at night as well," Hermione teased. "There was...something wafting off of you when you came to bed last night. You didn't smell it?"

Draco shrugged. "I thought it was you," he remarked, taking a bite of his roast. "I figured I would be a gentleman and not mention it."

"That didn't go according to plan, did it," Hermione commented dryly, trying to hold back a smile.

"I take it things are going well between the two of you?" Narcissa asked.

The smile Hermione had tried so hard to hide was now at the forefront. "Really well," she replied. "It's been nice to have him home so much."

The older witch nodded. "I used to love that too," she said. "Especially when Draco was little. Lucius would travel for business, and he'd be gone for weeks at a time. I remember how excited Draco would get when his father returned. And I'll admit, I was a bit relieved too."

Draco snorted, earning stares from his dinner companions. "Sorry," he muttered. "It's just that I never realized how differently we remembered things."

"I don't think this is the time," Hermione told him in a whisper.

Pushing back his chair, Draco got to his feet. "Yeah, I think you're right," he agreed. "I'm not hungry."

All eyes were on him as he exited the dining room. Hermione placed her napkin beside her plate, ready to follow him, but it was Narcissa who stopped her. "Let him cool down before you try to talk to him," she suggested, seeming to recall the same night that Hermione was.

Hermione settled back into her seat. The last time his parents had come to dinner, Draco had fought with them, fought with her, thrown a lamp at the wall, and told her he wanted a separation. She wasn't sure she could go through that again, especially when he seemed so different.

"Mummy," Ayla asked, cutting her thoughts short. "Is Daddy gonna leave again?"

Tears glistened in Hermione's eyes as she considered her daughter's question. Only one answer came to mind, one she didn't dare say out loud.

I don't know.