Chapter 13

"So, who's she dating?" Draco wondered.

Hermione shook her head, having heard the question several times since arriving at his flat. "I've told you ten times now that I'm not going to tell you," she responded. "Asking an eleventh won't help you. When Pansy wants you to know, she'll tell you. Being your...whatever I am to you doesn't mean I'll go against her wishes to keep this private."

He sat down on the floor where she played with Eleanor. "Girlfriend," he murmured, kissing her temple. "It's safe to say it."

Instead, Eleanor said it and giggled. "Well, at least we have her support," Hermione joked. "Of course, she's two and called her mother an eggplant the other day because she's heard your mother say it."

Draco scowled. He hated that his mother had been so antagonistic toward Pansy and that her words were now being parroted by his daughter. "Hopefully her next mother-in-law treats her better," he muttered. Hooking his finger under Eleanor's chin, he directed her attention to him. "Hey, you don't repeat bad things that Cissy says about Mummy. Understand me?"

"She calls your mother Cissy?" Hermione asked.

He waited for Eleanor to acknowledge his question before answering Hermione. "She does, and my mother hates it," he told her as Eleanor toddled over to the bookshelf. "The first suggestion she offered when we asked what she wanted to be called was Mrs. Malfoy. Grandma and any derivatives of it were completely out of the question. We just let El call her what she wanted, and that's what she came up with. Pans calls her Pissy Cissy when Eleanor's not around."

Hermione snorted as the little girl returned and sat in her father's lap, handing him a book that she wanted read. "What did she have against her?" she wondered. "Granted, a few years ago I would have taken Narcissa's side, but I've gotten to know Pansy. She's a good mother, a good friend, a genuinely kind person. What did your mother see?"

Sighing, he thumbed through the pages. "She saw that I was committing myself to someone I didn't love," he replied. "Don't get me wrong, I do love Pansy. It just wasn't the kind of love a husband should feel for a wife. We've known each other our entire lives, and I want her to always be in my life. I just...we were never in love."

"Have you ever been in love?" she wondered.

Smiling, he shrugged. "I thought I was with you," he admitted. "Of course, we were sixteen and in the midst of a war, so I don't know. I knew you'd listen to me and not judge. You never made me feel bad or weak when I cried. We hated each other for so long, but when I needed a friend, you came through for me. At the time, I felt completely and utterly alone. Pansy and I had broken up the summer before, and she was dating Blaise Zabini. She thoroughly enjoyed telling me what a great boyfriend he was. Crabbe and Goyle weren't the kind of friends you'd share your deepest, darkest secrets with. And then...then you came along. You had this way of making me feel whole again, and because of that, I thought I was in love with you."

"But were you really?" she pressed.

"Were you?" he countered.

"I don't know what being in love feels like," she replied.

Draco nodded. "I think it's bath time," he declared, easily standing with Eleanor in his arms. Hermione followed them to the bathroom. They didn't speak as he filled the tub and undressed his daughter. "Look, I'm not mad at you," he said, putting Eleanor in the tub.

"You should get into acting," she muttered.

As he turned to his head to look at her, Eleanor splashed him with hot, soapy water. In turn, he smiled and splashed back. "I'm not mad," he insisted, keeping his attention on the little girl. "Believe me, don't believe me, that's fine. It was half a decade ago. What happened between us as teenagers should have no bearing on us as adults. Sure, we liked each other back then and we like each other now, but I think it's safe to assume that our feelings have possibly matured over time. We're different people with different priorities now."

"You know, I'm not used to the men in my life being that rational," she told him, taking a seat on the bathroom vanity. "You should know that I did love you. It might have been puppy love because you were the first boy I really had feelings for, but I did love you, Draco."

Finished with the bath, he wrapped Eleanor in a towel and held her close as he dried her off. "Did?" he asked. "Or do?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, she replied, "We'll see."

He followed her from the bathroom to the room he had set up for Eleanor. "What does that mean?" he wondered, setting her down on the changing table to dress her in her pajamas.

"Exactly what it sounds like," she responded. "I loved you when I was sixteen. I don't know yet if I love you at twenty-three. So, as I said, we'll see."

He grinned as she walked away. "See that, Ellie? That's why you're not allowed to date until you're in your sixties," he said, sitting down in the rocking chair to read to her until she fell asleep. After placing her in her crib, he returned to the living room. "You're still here."

"Do I really seem like the type of person who leaves without saying goodbye?" she inquired, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. She didn't need to look up to know his reaction. "I mean besides that one time."

"Two times," he corrected her, sitting down beside her. "You can easily make this up to me, you know. Just tell me who Pansy's dating, and all will be forgiven."

After a few seconds, she turned the page. "I'd rather not," she decided. "Your forgiveness doesn't mean that much to me."

Laughing, he took the magazine from her hands and set it aside. "Do you think she's happy?" he asked. But before she could reply, he continued. "I want her to be happy. I couldn't do that, but maybe there's someone else who can. She just...she deserves that, don't you think?"

"She does," Hermione agreed. "Honestly, I think she's made her own happiness. Dating is just an added perk. I don't even know if this is going to go anywhere. One date isn't going to lead to marriage. Even if it did, I don't think it would change things between the two of you."

Draco nodded, letting her know she was right. "I'm not worried that she's moved on," he told her. "I'm glad she has, honestly. All I want to know is that he's good enough for her, and he treats her well."

"Well, I don't know him very well, but she speaks highly of him," Hermione replied, keeping Pansy's secret. "You don't have to worry, Draco. If it helps, though, I think you could take him in a fight."

Laughing, he took hold of her hand. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Do I make you happy?"

She placed her head on his shoulder. "Yes, you do," she told him. "I may tease you and try to rile you up, but I like being with you. I'm not going to allow this to be ruined a second time, Draco."