AN/ Ummm guys, Hermione is going through a lot right now, she's behaving uncharacteristically because she's experiencing a bit of a breakdown? And she herself acknowledged that last chapter? She's not quite coping, would you be?
Joy seemed like a far off concept to Draco by the time their last day at Malfoy Manor rolled around. To him, it felt like a Dementor had floated through the manor, withering everything good and leaving only the cold and the ugly.
He hadn't slept in his bed in four days.
All of his attempts to reconcile with his wife had been futile. She wasn't approachable, spending all of her time surrounded by their children, never alone. She threw herself into showering them with affection, making sure she spent every waking minute with them and taking at least one with her to bed each night, her children a barricade from their father.
It wasn't that she hated him, it wasn't even that she was mad. It was that she had no idea how to fix whatever it was they had broken that cold night. So she ignored him. If any of the family noticed, they didn't mention it.
Hermione had no intention keeping this up forever. The worst part was how much she missed him. It was almost toxic how much she needed him, she just wanted to pretend that evening had never happened and go back to being how they were, perfectly in sync, lovers, best friends, happy. But she couldn't. She respected herself too much, she'd take the hard road and deal with what had transpired between them, not the easy road of forgiving him immediately just so she could hold him in her arms and talk to him about everything again.
She had to be strong.
But she wasn't. She was avoiding, which was just as bad as giving in.
They were leaving for their home tomorrow, dropping the kids at Hogwarts on the way. They'd be alone together, with the three little ones, but they'd have pre-school and primary school to go to during the day.
Fuck. She had to figure this out.
Draco's longing for her was equal, if not more, than her own for him. He missed her terribly, he felt hollow without her to talk to, to hold, to confide in.
The only person who had noticed their distance was Rose, who was actually rather enjoying it. She had accidentally discovered Draco sleeping on the couch in his study when she had sneaked in one night, with the intention of snooping. Instead she has perched on the armrest and stared at him for hours. She had his face memorised. Every inch. His narrow features were on a constant loop in her head, especially at night.
Draco Malfoy.
The name was scrawled over and over in her journal, and it was whispered over and over again when she touched herself at night.
Her passion for him was unbearably strong. Sometimes it felt like hate, sometimes like love. Always like obsession.
And now that her selfish mother was pushing him away, Rose felt confident that her stepfather's desire for her would surface. She knew it was there, she knew he felt the same. Any doubts she might have had about his hidden affections were obliterated when he'd walked in on her. She had never felt more alive than the moment she realized he had seen her naked. And he wouldn't have come in if he hadn't been desperate to see her would he? No. He had wanted it as much as her, she was sure.
She would lie in the bath, legs slung over each side, detachable nozzle in hand and aimed directly at her young womanhood. She would imagine him above her, trying to picture his cock, trying to imagine feeling it inside her. She'd had sex before. She had tried out a few blossoming wizards, her fellow students. But they were mere boys, fumbling and unimpressive. Draco, Draco was a man, and he'd know how to please a woman like her.
If only he wasn't so bloody infatuated with her hideous mother. What a beastly woman. Rose had never understood how people adored her so much. She was bossy know-it-all who had absolutely no idea about being cool or pretty. And she seemed to like all her other children better, so why should Rose even bother trying to care?
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"Be good okay?" Hermione sniffed, hugging Scorpius tight, all too aware this was his last year at Hogwarts. "N.E.W.T.S are more important than being a rebel okay?"
"Yes Mum." Scorpius groaned, sounding embarrassed but hugging her for as long as he could.
"And remember to eat food, you always get too skinny during the semester." She fretted, her brow knitting together in premature concern.
"I'll eat, I promise." Her step-son promised, giving his mother an affectionate squeeze before letting her go.
"Make sure he eats Teddy." Hermione ordered, hugging his boyfriend with equal gusto and worry.
"I will." Teddy promised solemnly, winking at Scorpius as Hermione turned her attention to her other departing children.
"Remember to go outside occasionally and have fun baby." She instructed Julius with a warm hug, receiving an absent nod from her son whose nose was buried in a book. "Love you, bye." He murmured, turning a page, eyes glued to the words in front of him.
"Rose, look after yourself love." Hermione tried, holding out her arms to her daughter, who ignored the gesture, walking away with a hair toss and not a single word.
Saving this fresh insult to hurt over later Hermione turned her attention to Hugo, who still had a faint bruise on his eye, the cut almost completely healed. Her boy was pale and looked miserable, no sparkle in his usually cheerful eyes at all.
"Write to me if you need anything at all okay?" Hermione pulled him into a hug, holding him the tightest of all. "I'm serious baby, if anything happens to you I'll be marching up here and throwing punches left and right."
Hugo nodded, his mother's fierce words bringing him little comfort, his heart yearning to just go home with his family, Hogwarts looming above him like a death sentence.
He hugged his mother tightly, his voice thick with emotion as he told her he loved her and then turned into the embrace of his step-father. "Love you dad." He muttered, looking down, his voice gruff as he tried to be all manly and tough.
"Right back at you kid." Draco replied, hugging him and then pushing his shoulder lightly. "Go get 'em tiger."
"BYE DAD!" Rose called back as the group walked away, her sarcastic tone grating on his nerves as he and Hermione stood together, Ariana and Jeffrey between them, Thomas in his arms.
All the little children were upset at their siblings leaving so their parents got to distract themselves comforting them. It wasn't until later that night, children in bed, bags put away, holiday over, that they came face to face in the bedroom in their home in the Muggle neighbourhood.
Their four poster bed stood between them, neatly made, white silk sheets stark against the mint coloured comforter. The glass bottles of perfume on Hermione's dresser caught the light above them, casting sparkling patterns on the walls as they stared each other.
Hermione was sitting on the window seat on her side of the room, the night behind her dark and cloudy, snow threatening to fall at any second. She was clad in a blue lace nightgown that pulled tight across her bulging belly, and a soft green velvet robe, her hair loose around her shoulders. Her face was devoid of any make up, only moisturiser on her almost flawless skin, looking exceptionally beautiful with her freckles and the light crinkles around her dark eyes.
Draco was less chic. He was wearing his favourite hoodie, one he'd stolen from Hugo actually, it was grey with a Hollyhead Harpies logo emblazoned on the chest and had a hole in the sleeve. This was paired with his black cotton pyjama pants and a glass of scotch in his hand.
He was leaning against the wall across from Hermione, looking at her from beneath lowered lashes.
The silence stretched between them for what felt like hours but was probably only five minutes, before Draco cleared his throat and set his glass down on the shelf beside him.
"I miss you." He began, his tone as anxious as he felt.
Hermione looked at him levelly, her expression neutral.
"Hermione. I really miss you. I messed up and I've been suffering the consequences of my actions." His voice was pained, his eyes already welling with tears. "I'm sorry."
Hermione blinked, pushing back her own tears.
"We were both stupid."
She shrugged hard, a tear escaping down her cheek, her voice choked up.
"You really hurt me, in here." She admitted, holding a hand over her heart.
Draco let out a sob, sliding down the wall to a sitting position and burying his head in his arms atop his knees. Her words broke him, his guilt, regret and self-loathing resurfacing, engulfing him.
"What can I do?" He asked once he found his voice.
Hermione shrugged, wiping her eyes, trying not to acknowledge her heart that was longing to go and wrap her arms around his forlorn form.
"I still love you, you're the person I feel closest too, but I can barely even look at you when I think about how I felt that night." She spoke like it was a confession because she had been living with the silent repulsion for days on end.
Draco pressed his fists into his eyes until he saw black spots, her words ringing through his head, bringing fresh pain. "Forgive me please." He begged, unable to take back his actions and unwilling to accept that losing his love was going to be the consequence. "I need you. I love you. Forgive me for what I've done."
Hermione couldn't stand it anymore, it hurt her too much to inflict this pain on him. Hadn't he suffered at least as much as she had that night in the space of the last few minutes? She wouldn't be able to look at herself either if she hurt him more than he had hurt her. She couldn't let it go that far.
She stood and crossed the room, going with tears streaming openly. She stood in front of him and held out her hand to the love of her life.
"I promise I will forgive you. Not today, and maybe not tomorrow. But I promise, I will."
The relief he felt was almost angelic. Draco accepted her hand and pulled himself to his feet. They stood for a few breaths, awkward like when they were teenagers, before Draco bit the bullet and wrapped his arms around his wife.
At first she stiffened in retaliation, before softening as she felt the familiar security of his touch and strength of his embrace.
They just stood hugging, breathing each other in for the longest time before eventually pulling apart.
They retired to bed, sleeping in the same place for the first time in a week, a gap between them but their hands intertwined tightly as sleep took them, the air heavy with emotion as they drifted to sleep.
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Weeks later, under the cover of darkness Rose shuffled the pages of the book she'd stolen form the restricted section, her eyes scanning the faded text impatiently. Ah! There it was. Gleefully Rose ripped out the page, tucking it into her robe pocket carefully before slamming the book shut.
Much like her mother decades before her, Rose was about to brew a Polyjuice potion for devious purposes. She was in even in the very same bathroom, haunted by the very same and still annoying ghost, Moaning Myrtle. It would have all been a little déjà vu except there was no one to witness it.
And admittedly, her intentions were a lot worse than Hermione's had been.