Okay, so this chapter was sent to Bedelia on the 20th, but you know, it's Christmas and people have better things to think about than fanfiction.

So I'm posting it this chapter anyway lol, because otherwise you won't get an update 'til the new year and that's just mean.

I really hope you like this :)

7th September 2017

A tickling round about Hermione's nose awoke her, and she swotted her hand at the nuisance, only to end up with a face full of whipped cream. Spluttering she shot up on the settee, and turned to see a giggling Roxanne and George.

"Very mature," she griped, trying to remove all the cream from her face.

"It's an old one, but a good one," George managed to say around his laughter, as he walked into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry about my husband," Angelina said, smiling as she placed a cup of tea in Hermione's hand. "I did try to stop him."

Hermione only laughed. "I expected much worse."

George's voice floated from where he had his head stuck in the fridge. "I'm easing you in!"

Rolling her eyes and sighing Hermione said, "I was afraid he'd say that."

Angelina smiled before sitting beside Hermione with her own cup of tea. Her blue eyes searched Hermione's face, her gaze sympathetic.

"How are you?"

Hermione shrugged, sipping her tea. While she had gone off easily to sleep, the night had been anything but restful. She felt drained and confused. She wasn't sure what her life was going to be like in the next few weeks or even months or years, she didn't even know what she wanted. Hermione blew out a quick breath and placed her tea on the coffee table before her; one day at a time.

"I'm okay," she said, though her smile was unconvincing, Angelina said nothing.

Just then there was a tap on the living room window, and both women looked up to see a magnificent black screech owl tapping on the glass. Angelina stood to let him in, watching as he swooped down and landed beside Hermione on the settee. Regally he held his leg out for Hermione to take the letter clasped in his talons.

Frowning, unsure as to who could be sending her mail with an owl she did not recognised, she took the letter, and jumped as the owl took straight back off into the sky outside. Opening the letter, Hermione's face dropped as she read to the end of the brisk note. Jumping off the settee she slipped her shoes on and after calling a quick goodbye to Angelina apparated right from their living room.

~oOo~

Two cracks announced the arrival of both Hermione and Draco at the gates to Hogwarts, neither looked surprised to see the other but did not speak as they met Blaise at the gates. With no words he led the two parents up the road to the old school, then through and to the Hospital wing.

They could hear the squabbling even from outside the large oak doors.

"He started it!" The high pitched whine of Rose Weasley assaulted their ears as the doors were pushed open.

"Now hold still," sighed Madame Pomfrey. The old woman rolled her eyes as she attempted to remove the numerous boils that had erupted on Hermione's daughter's face.

Hermione and Draco walked to their children's bedsides, taking seats next to each other between the adjacent beds. Draco watched, horrified, as his son tried to rebuff the girl's claims, but managed only a strange gurgle before a stream of slugs poured from his mouth.

In tandem they sighed, and Draco gestured for Hermione to speak first.

"What happened?" she said, addressing both children, but knowing that only her daughter could answer.

Rose sent a scowl at her mother, though it was somewhat lacking due to the boils. Reaching behind her she thrust that day's daily prophet into her mother's hands, she refused to look at Draco. Hermione frowned but looked at the paper; her gasp had Draco reading the article. Neither knew quite what to say.

"That sneaky bitch," Hermione breathed, quite forgetting where she was. Madame Pomfrey sent her a scowl, and she apologised.

"Is…it…true?" Scorpius managed to say, gasping around the slugs.

"He called me a mudblood!" Rose squealed as yet another boil was popped and removed.

Hermione turned wide eyed to Draco, yet before she could speak he had already turned to his son. His voice was firm and stern, and Hermione watched as Scorpius's eyes dropped, unable to meet his father's gaze.

"What have I told you about using language like that? Just because your Grandfather did it, doesn't mean you do. If I ever hear you using language like that again, you'll suffer the consequences. As it is, I think Miss Weasley has shown you exactly what happens should you call her that again. I hope you've learned your lesson."

The young boy nodded, as he continued to vomit slugs into the porcelain basin on his knee. Once again he gasped his question, "Is it…true?"

Madame Pomfrey, having finished with Rose's boils excused herself to her office, leaving the quartet alone. Hermione turned to her daughter, watching as the young girl shifted nervously on the hospital bed.

"It's true," she said. Rose's eyes grew wide and her cheeks grew pink with supressed tears. "Your father and I were going to tell you as soon as we could. You shouldn't have found out like this."

"When you say 'your father', who do you mean?" Rose asked, as a single tear dropped to her cheek. She hastily wiped it away.

Hermione gripped tight to her daughter's hand, making sure her eyes were caught. "I mean your dad. Draco might be your biological father, but Ron will always be your dad. I'm going to have a word with Professor Zabini, and see about you taking the afternoon off so we can talk."

"Mum—" Rose started, confused. Her mother had always put such a premium on education; she couldn't imagine her allowing her to have the afternoon off.

"I know," Hermione smiled sadly, "but this is more important, okay?"

Rose nodded, and Hermione leaned over to place a kiss on her daughters head. "I'll see you soon," she promised, before turning to Draco. He'd been having his own conversation with his son, and when he caught her eye he nodded to say he would be joining her.

"Now," he said to his son, his voice stern, "people are going to know about this, and they're going to ask questions, some aren't going to be very pleasant about it, especially to Rose. What I want from you is your word that you'll look after your sister. From what we've seen, I think we can safely say she can fend for herself, but you are her brother, Scorpius, and a Malfoy. I expect you to conduct yourself like one."

Scorpius nodded as Madame Pomfrey returned from the office in order to stop him vomiting slugs. He cast a glance at Rose; there was no animosity in it, just a sort of frightened curiosity, which she returned.

The two parents left the hospital wing and walked together in silence to the entrance hall. They stood in an alcove by the doors, not quite ready to say goodbye to one another.

"What are you doing today?" Draco asked, "After talking to Rose that is?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure. Going back to Angelina and George's probably, I should get in touch with Ron."

Draco frowned. "You're not staying at home? He kicked you out?!"

Hermione smiled sadly. "No, I left. He needed time, and so did I. I miss Hugo, though, so I doubt I'll be staying with Angelina too long."

They were silent for a moment, before Draco spoke. It was hesitant, as he wasn't sure what she would say. "Why…why not come stay with me?"

"In the manor? I'd rather not."

"I don't live in the manor, actually. Astoria and I had a house together, but I'm letting her keep it. My father lived in the manor alone."

Hermione frowned. "So where are you?"

"In my flat."

The flat. Hermione's heart jumped. He was asking her to stay in the place where they shared so many a rendezvous; where they had shared there last night together. It was their place, and all she wanted was to say yes.

"I'm still married, Draco," she said, as though she was attempting to convince herself more than the man in front of her.

"So am I." His smile was deadly, and Hermione knew if she didn't watch herself she'd become lost to it.

"Okay, well up until recently I was happily married."

His eyes twitched, as though he had been struck a physical blow. It was ridiculous, she thought, when they'd both been happily married at some point, they had to have been; their squabbling children didn't come from nowhere.

His lips pursed, and Hermione tried to keep her gaze from wandering down to them. "Were you?" he asked.

It was a horrible question. It wasn't fair. He'd left her, he hadn't chosen her, and now he wanted to suddenly get back together, after so many years? But no, she had to remind herself, he had come back, he'd wanted her, she just didn't remember.

She didn't want to think about her marriage, not when she was with Draco. She married Ron because she loved him, he was one of her best friends, and he'd always been there for her. But now that she thought about it, did she marry him because she couldn't not be with him or simply because he was there and she was lonely? Horribly, she imagined it was more the latter.

"I thought so," she finally said. Her eyes dropped in shame. Did it make her a horrible person, to have married someone for anything other than pure, unadulterated love? Hermione certainly thought so.

Draco's palm suddenly, softly embraced her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin. His hand was warm, and Hermione didn't stop herself from capturing it, holding it to her face. The smell of him was just the same, her pulse jumped and her stomach tied in knots. She felt twenty years old all over again.

"Think about it," he whispered, referring to his previous offer. Hermione nodded.

All he wanted was to kiss her. When she'd looked so sad, he couldn't stop himself from touching her. They stood so close now, closer than was proper, he knew, but he didn't care. Everyone knew now. They all knew about Rose, and maybe people would make up their own mind, but he knew what they'd had; what they could still have.

Dropping his hand from her face, his eyes dropped to their joined hands. This was dangerous, he knew. There would be time for this later. How he wished to just be selfish, to whisk her away to his flat and forget about everything around them. He hadn't felt so light since the last time he had seen Hermione, truly seen her, so many years before. What he wouldn't give to feel that again.

Bending slightly he dropped a kiss to the back of her hand. Her breath caught in her throat at the action. Such a gentle touch and yet it left her wanting so much more.

"I should go," he said. He still hadn't dropped her hand.

"Me too. I need to tell Ron about…everything."

Draco nodded, finally releasing his grip on her fingers. Maybe it was the mention of her husband, but suddenly the distance between them seemed impossible to bridge. There was so much to do, so many people hurt by this. He suddenly regretted not doing more to Malcolm Greengrass, which reminded him.

"Hermione," he said, as she turned to head back to the hospital wing. "I know who stole your memory."

Her eyes widened, she'd almost forgotten about that. "Can we meet this afternoon? At the Leaky Cauldron? I just…there's so much to think about already. I'll owl you."

Draco nodded, happy that he would get to see her again so soon. With a returning smile, but no other words Hermione headed up the staircase, turning back just in time to see Draco vanish through the entrance hall doors.

Let me know what you think :)

If you haven't before, check out Turncoat by elizaye. It's an amazing, 101 chapters, complete death eater-Draco angsty fic that I'm re-reading for the elevtybillionth time xD.

also, follow me on twitter missrebecca_12 because I thrive off virtual friends :D

And have an amazing Christmas or whatever :D