Chapter 10

"Our wives talked this morning," Harry said when he entered Draco's home study.

Gray eyes rolled. "They always talk," he muttered. "What's new about that?"

Groaning, Harry sat down across from him and stretched his legs, rubbing the pain from his bad knee. "They were talking about us and the repeal," he shared. "They've got it in their heads that we're divorcing them. Hermione at least managed to talk Pansy down. I doubt my wife had the same luck with her though."

Draco frowned. He knew Hermione had been upset by the news, but hadn't thought she would take it as the end of their marriage. "Why would she think that?" he wondered.

Harry shrugged. "No idea. The two of you never even fight," he replied.

Draco knew that to be untrue, but told his friend nothing of their troubles. The truth was they began to fight more often after Cece's birth. Hermione was a stickler for schedules - when Cece should eat, sleep, be bathed, have playtime. Draco, on the other hand, thought parenting should be more flexible and urged his wife to be the same way. After Gabe had been born, Draco gave up trying to change her.

2008

"Be more flexible?" she laughed incredulously. "What, like you? If it were up to you she'd go to bed whenever she felt like it. We're the parents, Draco. We're the adults. She's almost a year old. She needs structure."

Draco rolled his eyes as he undressed and threw his dirty clothes in the general proximity of the hamper. "She also needs to have a little fun," he countered. "I didn't live by a schedule when I was younger. I don't expect my children to either."

Hermione scowled as she picked up his clothes. "And you turned out so well," came her facetious reply.

Taking the clothes from her hand, he threw them in the hamper. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Unphased by his change in attitude, Hermione told him exactly what she meant. "I don't want my child to be a spoiled, selfish brat," she stated.

Arms crossed over his chest, he stared down at her. He bit his tongue and counted to ten, hoping his anger would pass. When he felt calm enough, he asked, "Do you still see me that way?"

Her steely facade fell. "No, you know I don't," she replied, placing her hands on his waist. But she knew it wasn't something he had just outgrown with age. His time as a Death Eater had largely contributed to his change in attitude.

"Not having a schedule wasn't the reason I turned out that way," he told her, fighting to keep his temper in check. "Parents who spoiled me, gave me everything I wanted, never said no. That's why I turned out that way."

"I know," she murmured.

He uncrossed his arms and removed her hands from his hips. "Cece and any children we have after her aren't going to turn out like me," he told her. "You'll see to that. Hell, her first word was 'no' because she's heard you say it so often. I really think you have nothing to worry about when it comes to spoiled children. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll sleep downstairs tonight."

Letting go of her hands, he stepped around her and left their bedroom. Hermione turned to follow, but when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he held up a hand as she tried to apologize. "No, don't," he said. "Honestly, right now I don't want to hear it. I'm sure you think you're sorry, but right now it'll just feel like you doing it to avoid another fight."

"When have I ever said anything just to appease you?" she inquired, arms crossed over her chest. "What I said was out of line, and I am sorry that I upset you."

Sighing, he moved away and sat down on the sofa. "It hurt because it's true," he told her. "I was a horrible child because my parents knew nothing about parenting. I'm not claiming to be an expert, but I know what not to do. I just think her life doesn't have to be so structured. She doesn't need a twenty-four schedule. She doesn't need an hour of learning time every single day, you don't need to have all of her meals and snacks planned out for an entire week. I don't need to know what time to bathe her and how long it should last. Every once in awhile, I just wish that you would remember that I'm her father and I know what I'm doing."

Hermione hesitated momentarily, but eventually joined him. "I'm neurotic," she admitted with a small laugh. "I plan and schedule and drive you crazy. Sometimes I don't even enjoy it. It's just what I do to keep myself sane. Especially after she was born and I was overwhelmed, scheduling made everything easier."

"But when does it stop?" he wondered. "When she's potty-trained? Able to dress herself? When she's eleven and getting on the train for Hogwarts?"

Hermione shrugged. "How many times are we going to fight over it?" she asked.

"Well, this is the second time this month," he pointed out. "We still have to have baby number two, so probably a few thousand more times."

She groaned. "I don't know that I can handle this fight a few thousand more times," she replied.

Draco reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. "I guess either one of us changing our minds is out of the question," he added.

"What about a compromise?" she asked. "Maybe, just maybe, I could relent a bit on the scheduling, and perhaps you could follow the schedules once in awhile?"

He nodded. "If they're less detailed, then yes," he replied. "But I know you, Hermione."

She smiled. "Better than anyone," she murmured.

"I also know that you worry about everything," he continued. "But you have to know that I can handle this. I'm in this with you, a hundred percent. So, just let me."

"I know you are," she replied, giving his hand a squeeze. "I don't want you to ever feel secondary, and I certainly don't want you to think that I think that you can't do this. I've seen you with her, Draco. You're an amazing father. But I'm still going to make my schedules and get upset if she's not in bed every night at the same time."

Draco pulled her close and kissed her. "We'll still fight about this," he said.

"Yeah, you're probably right," she agreed. "I'll still love you though when the fight is over."

Getting to his feet, he pulled her up as well. "I'll still love you too."

"Good, now come to bed."