all characters belong to JKR

Chapter 29:

The pain was unbearable, and all Hermione wanted to do was to push, but Fleur told her to steady her breathing. She told her to try to wait until the Healer or the midwife could be called upon, although Hermione did not think she could wait. Waiting was worse than the pain.

When they arrived at her cousin's estate earlier, it was very late, and the man himself was waiting for them at the end of the long staircase. While Hermione was staying here before, she lived in a small cottage on the estate, and though this house was at one time her home, nothing seemed as it was. The furniture, the paintings, the tapestries and the carpets were all the same, but this place was no longer her home. This man was not her family.

He had the gall to smile at her, and take her hand. The pain had started on the ride here, so she did not fight him off, instead, she said, "I am tired."

He smiled again, kissed her hand, which he still held, and said, "Of course, my love, but before I show you to your room, you must do me one favour. You must pen your beloved husband a note, and explain to him that you will not be returning home."

Hermione asked, "Why would I do that?"

He looked up the stairs, to where a woman was holding Bill and Fleur's young daughter. He looked back to Hermione and said, "Any other questions?" Fleur ran to her husband's arms, from somewhere in the back of the house.

Hermione swallowed hard, looked from Bill, to Fleur, to her cousin and said, "Kindly show me parchment and quill, and then I really must take my leave. I fear I may be having this child tonight."

That was four hours ago. Her cousin, the Viscount, promised to send for a magical Healer, but thus far, none had arrived. Fleur was attending to her, along with two of the upstairs maids, and the housekeeper.

Fleur finally said, "Hermione, we cannot wait. We shall have to do this without a Healer, yes?"

"Fleur, I am scared. I want my husband. I even find that I want my mother." Hermione began to cry through the pain.

Fleur held her hand. "Hermione, I am so sorry for all of this. Bill wanted to help you from the beginning. If you had elected not to marry Lord Malfoy, he was prepared to take you, and me, and our daughter away to France, and hide us all there, but you loved Draco, we could see that. However, Bill had no idea things would get so out of hand. He thought it was all over after you married, but then the Viscount came to see us, along with Gabriella. They came up with the plan for Gabriella to go see you, profess her innocence, and then it was their hope that you would take her into your confidence, so they could draw you out. Just in case that did not happen, Gabriella had already delivered my daughter, her own niece, to this evil man. She is our child, Hermione. Bill and I would give our own lives for her." She stroked Hermione's hair from her face.

Hermione moved her head, and brushed aside Fleur's hand and said, "And apparently, you would also give the life of my child, and me, for her."

"Oh, Hermione. He took our wands. What are we to do? My little girl is held here. He plans to take your child, too, as soon as it is born. Only then, he claims, will he give us back our own. He knows the only way to control you, short of magic, is by threatening your child. If you fear for your child's life, you will tell Draco goodbye, and swear to him that you want a divorce."

"I will never do that," Hermione said. She grunted, and then moaned in pain.

"You will see things differently when that child is out of your belly, and into your arms," Fleur said. She motioned to one of the maids to bring the clean sheets and water closer. Hermione screamed.

Outside, Draco and Harry Potter paced along the perimeter of the estate of the Viscount of Grinmark. Draco said, "How much longer must we wait, Potter?"

"As long as it takes, Malfoy," Harry said back.

"That is easy for you to say! She is not your wife! It is not your child!"

"Never underestimate what I feel for the ones I love, Malfoy!" Harry shouted, "And I know of my guilt in this! I know I delivered her into the clutches of this evil man all those months ago. I was duped by him, but I told you, I will make things right. If things are as we suspect, and as Gabby tells us, and the Viscount is holding Fleur and Victoire hostage, then we must act with all caution."

"Why would the girl deem to tell us the truth now?" Draco asked. "For all we know, Fleur and the little girl are dead, and Bill has been in on this since the beginning."

"We used truth serum on her, Malfoy. She had no choice but to tell us the truth!" Harry spat back. "As of right now, we must wait."

"Can we use your invisibility cloak?" Draco asked.

"No, Malfoy. We really must take caution. The man may have other wizards or witches working for him. Wait."

Draco sat back down on the morning grass, which was wet with dew. The sun was finally rising in the sky, casting an eerie pink glow across the landscape. The house looked silent. Was his wife somewhere within? Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she in pain? Was she in labour? They saw a physician entering the courtyard earlier. They knew he was a physician, as Pyle had stopped and questioned the man before he entered the vast estate. Was he there for his wife?

The waiting was killing him. He pulled on a blade of grass, and moved it nonchalantly over his lips, imagining it was her lips touching his. He threw it lightly on the ground, stood back up and said, "Potter, I can wait no longer. We must devise a plan and get into that house! We are wizards, and he is a Muggle! There must be a way!"

Harry frowned and said, "Unfortunately, the protection charm that I put on the house all those months ago also keeps us at bay. We cannot enter without entering through conventional methods, such as by the door. Therefore, we wait, for now."

Back inside, Fleur walked out to the hall from the bedchamber that housed Hermione, leaving the physician alone in the room with her. Bill was waiting in the corner. He looked tired. She said, "There is a full moon tonight."

"I am aware!" he snapped.

"I am sorry to point out the obvious," she snapped back. "She is having a horrible time. She needs magic. She needs a Healer. It is too soon, and the child is breech."

"What would you have me do?" he shouted at his wife.

"I would have you be the honourable man that I fell in love with, Bill." Fleur walked back into the room, but before she closed the door, she said, "He did take your wand, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then the full moon might work to your advantage tonight. Think about it." She slammed the door hard.

Bill slumped in the corner.

The Viscount soon joined him in the hall and he said, "Does she need to scream so loudly?"

Bill looked up at the horrible man and said, "She is in pain, and there are complications. You really should let me go for a Healer. If she or the child dies, you will have nothing. All of this will have been for naught."

"Fine!" he said to the wizard, "but no tricks! Remember, your wife is here, and your child is well guarded up on the upper floor. I do not relish hurting women and children, and in fact, that was never part of my plan. That was your dear sister-in-law's idea, not mine, and not one I relished. This is a better plan. I am most pleased that you cursed the girl Gabby. I am glad she is out of the way."

"Except by now, she will have told everyone everything," Bill said.

"And implicated herself?" he asked. "I think not."

Bill would not tell the man about a little thing called, 'Veritaserum'. The less this man knew about magic, the better. He started toward the stairs and the Viscount said, "No tricks, Weasley. Bring one of your Healers, but remember, I know what Harry Potter looks like, and I know Lord Malfoy, too. No tricks."

Bill ran down the stairs and out the door. He apparated to the edge of the estate, and thank goodness, the very people he had hoped to see were there: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Fleur sat beside Hermione on the bed. She was tired, and unable to continue to push. The physician said, "She needs to push."

"She is weak. She had a recent illness, and she has not completely healed," Fleur said. She was concerned. "Can you do nothing for her?"

"Not if she will not push," the man said. He walked out to the hall and found her cousin. "She is very weak, My Lord. She is bleeding as well, and though I believe I have turned the baby, if she does not deliver it soon, both mother and child will die. I do not know what else I am expected to do."

The Viscount grabbed the man by the throat and said, "You are expected to do what I pay you to do! If either of them dies, it will be your head!"

"I know you care for your cousin, Sir," the man said.

Hermione's cousin snarled. He cared very little for the woman he barely knew, but he cared greatly for her money. If she died, while still married to another, then her husband would receive all of her inheritance. If the child died, then not all would be lost. True, the plan to kill Malfoy would have to end, but he could still force her to divorce the man, and force her to marry him. Then, once married to her, he could care less what happens.

He looked at the older man and said, "If you must save one life, save the life of my cousin. The child can die for all I care." He stormed down the hallway. The physician went downstairs to the kitchen, for a cup of tea.

Fleur stood by the doorway, shocked at what she had just heard. She slipped back in the room and whispered in Hermione's ear, "Hermione, I know this is hard, and I know you are in pain, and weak, but your child's life hangs in the balance. Please, please, push for me, and for your baby."

"I cannot," she said feebly.

Fleur stood back up and said, "Then you will die! Your child will die! I am ashamed of you! I thought I was ashamed of my real family, but at this moment, I am ashamed of you for giving up without a fight!" She knew her words were harsh, but they needed to be. She needed to provoke Hermione. She needed Hermione to fight harder than she had ever fought in her life.

Bill explained everything to Harry, Pyle and Malfoy. Harry and B ill decided that Pyle would go back in, under the guise of a Healer. There was little time to send for a real Healer, as Bill explained that Hermione's labour had gone on for too long as it was, and that she was dangerously close to losing her fight.

Draco insisted that he too had to go to the house. Bill said, "You cannot. I was instructed to bring only a Healer; in addition, you are too well recognized."

"No, wait," Draco said. He took his wand, and said the charm that he had uttered all those months ago, to change his hair and eye colour. He turned to Harry and said, "Do you recognize me?"

"As Malfoy or as the highwayman?' Harry asked, perturbed. "Because even without the mask, I know who you are."

"I do not care if you arrest me when this is over, Potter. Fine, I'm the highwayman, now, do you recognize me as Malfoy?"

"I do, but I doubt that her cousin will," Harry admitted. "He has only met you that one time, when you came to ask for her hand in marriage, and you said that he acted disinterested and distracted that day. It may work."

He nodded toward Harry and then said, "I need your wand. I will have mine taken from me as soon as I enter. I must conceal yours somewhere on my body."

"The man will think of that," Bill protested. "He searched me very well."

"Do not take the chance," Harry said. "However, I've been in that house before, and I know for certain that Hermione's father kept pistols in his study, and there are also a number of swords, in fact, there was once a saber hanging over the desk. If you have to, use a Muggle weapon." Harry turned to Bill and asked, "How many men guard his house?"

"A fair few, but they are all Muggles. If we can get wizards inside, we can overthrow them easily."

"I need some time, to get reinforcements here. You and Draco go back to the house, Pyle will wait here, and I shall return with help. We will rescue your daughter and wife, Bill, and Hermione and your child, Malfoy. I swear on it." Harry disapparated away.

Bill and Draco re-entered the house, and immediately, several footmen came to search them for wands. The Viscount came down the stairs and he said, "Gentlemen, the physician said that my cousin is close to death. He claims it is the life of the child, or the life of my cousin. If I have to pick one, I pick the woman's. Do not let her die, or the little girl and Mrs. Weasley dies. Do we understand each other?"

A footman drew Draco's wand out of his pocket even as Draco said, "I will need that to do my healing."

The Viscount looked closely at Draco. He walked the rest of the way down the stairs, and looked closer at his face. "Have we met?"

"I make a point never to associate with Muggles," Draco leered.

"And I usually make a point never to associate with evil oddities, but there you go," the man said back to Draco. He took the wand back from the footman, and handed it to Draco, saying, "But remember, man, the life of this other man's wife and child hangs in the balance. A knife is at the throat of his baby daughter as we speak. One false move from you and it will draw blood. Do you understand?"

Draco silently cursed the man, in his mind thinking of all the things he wanted to do and say, but then he heard Hermione scream. She was in pain. She was in terrible pain. Draco looked up the stairs, then back to the face of her evil kin, and said, "I understand you perfectly. I am a kind, and generous man, and I would never do anything to harm anyone, I assure you." He ran up the stairs, two at a time, not even knowing where he was going.

Bill overtook him and pointed toward Hermione's bedchamber.

Fleur met them and ran to her husband's arms. She said, "There is so much blood, and the baby will not come out. I believe the cord is around its neck. The Muggle physician does not know what to do. Have you brought a Healer?" She looked at Draco, and immediately recognized him. She took his hand and said, "At least, tell her goodbye."

"No!" Draco seethed. He went over to his wife. He looked back and saw that the cousin had left the room. Draco said, "I want the physician, and all the other Muggles to leave this room, now!"

"There is nothing more I can do, anyway. They are both lost," the physician said. He left the room, along with the other servants. Fleur ran back to the bed, along with Bill.

Draco knelt beside the bed, his hand on his wife's wet brow, and he said, "Hermione, I am here. I am here."

Her eyes were closed, but she was awake enough to hear and recognize her husband's voice. She truly thought she would die before hearing it again. She said, "Draco? Please, save our baby. Please."

"I shall save you both," he said quietly. He kissed her lips, and then brushed away a tear from her cheek. He stood up, and the sight of all the blood caused him emotional and physical pain. He looked at Fleur and said, "What shall we do?"

He took out his wand.

Fleur closed her eyes, as if in silent prayer, and said, "For heaven's sake, disapparate her away. Get her to a Healer. Do not worry for the rest of us. Please."

"No, we shall all live to see another day," Draco said. "Anyway, I fear it would be too late." He took his wife's hand. Fleur took Draco's wand, and said several healing spells for the pain, and another one to impede the bleeding.

Then she said another spell and told the men, "The cord was wrapped around the babe's neck, but I have removed it. Now, we must deliver this child."

Draco bent down toward his wife to lie partially on the bed. She was so still and quiet. He stroked her hair and said, "Do not leave me, Hermione. Do not give up on our child." He kissed her forehead, and continued to say encouraging words, unsure if she was even aware of them.

Fleur and Bill were busy trying to deliver the baby. With a few more spells, the child was soon delivered, and wrapped in a sheet. Bill took the baby over to the fireplace, where a basin of water awaited. Draco could not hear it crying.

The room was so silent.

The silent was deafening.

The deafness was like a hallowing roar, a rage that tore through his soul. He stood and said, "Does the child live? Does my wife live?" He looked toward Bill's back, and Fleur's face.

Bill yelled for his wife. "I need the wand, Fleur!"

"I need it, too! The bleeding has started anew, and I cannot stave it off! We are losing her!" Fleur was moving around the bed rapidly, saying every spell she knew.

Draco ran from the room in a blinding rage. He did not know if his wife or his child lived or died, but he knew one thing, the man who had caused this would die, right now, and by Draco's bare hands if necessary. He flew down the stairs quickly; he did not even remember his feet moving.

He ran toward the man's study, on the first floor. It was the place where Draco had met him the day he came to bargain for Hermione's hand, almost a year ago. He threw open the door, even as the man threw up his feet on the desk, and threw back a glass of brandy.

"Is it over?" the man asked. "It has been a long night. Did my cousin live?"

Draco looked above the man's head. There was a long sword. He rushed behind the desk, throwing the man off guard. He stumbled from his chair, even falling completely out of it, before Draco reached the weapon. The man reached in his boot, and brought out a pistol.

They both stood, facing each other, one with a long barreled pistol, and one with a sword. The Viscount said, "I recognize you now! I know you! You are Malfoy!"

Draco shook his head and said, "No, I am the man who is going to kill you."

The Viscount pulled the trigger, and the single shot rang out, and hit Draco's shoulder, with a hot, blinding, searing pain, slashing through his nerves and muscles. The shock of what happened lasted a mere second, as Draco lunged forward, and sunk the steel blade of the saber straight through the other man's chest.

The man fell back to the floor, his eyes wide with shock. Draco dropped the sword, and looked at his shoulder. Crimson blood covered his jacket, soaking through his waistcoat and linen shirt. He sunk back into the abandoned chair, and closed his eyes, giving into the pain. It was all too much to bear.

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His head was spinning, and there was a distant sound of someone walking on the stone slab floor around him. He clutched at the material of the sheets around his body, and tried to open his eyes. His mouth was dry, and his eyes felt like grit. The shadows and lights shifted until they became coherent forms, and somehow, he found his voice, though it sounded strangled and strange even to him.

He asked, "Where am I?"

Fleur Weasley walked up to him and smiled. "You are at home, Lord Malfoy. You are at home."

Draco looked from her face to the room around him. There was a lantern on the bedside table, alit with flame. There was a fire in the grate of the fireplace. The curtains opened to reveal some light, so it was daytime. He needed to ask questions, but he was afraid.

Draco Malfoy was afraid. What an odd concept. It had been so long since he had allowed himself feelings such as fear, or baser emotions such as love, but since Hermione had come back into his life, he had begun to feel these things again, and because of this, he was afraid to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. Was she alive? Was his child alive? If they did not live, he would close his eyes again, and will death to claim him as well.

He turned his head and closed his eyes. He heard movement around him. He heard the low murmur of voices. Was he a coward if he did not ask about his wife? Was his fear unfounded?

"Malfoy?"

Damn, it was Potter.

Draco could face this man any day. He opened his eyes.

"The Viscount is dead."

"Good."

"You killed him."

"I know."

"The Aurors are taking care of everything. The Ministry has decided that it is best if we do not involve the Muggle authorities," Harry explained.

"Do I care about this?" Draco asked.

"Do you?" Potter asked back.

Draco closed his eyes again and said, "I think I dislike you very much, Potter, but thank you, nonetheless."

"Do you want to know about your wife and child?" Harry asked.

Draco felt a profound sadness, and he had yet to hear about their fate. His chest felt heavy. He knew he was close to tears, but he would not let Harry Potter, of all people, ever see him cry. He opened his eyes and said, "Just tell me one thing, Potter."

"What, Malfoy?"

"Do they live?"

"Yes."

"Truly?"

"Yes, and they will be fine."

Draco Malfoy could ask nothing more. His shoulder hurt like hell, his head felt heavy, his heart felt full, and his eyes felt like lead. They closed on their own, he fell back to sleep, and for once, he was no longer afraid.

When he awoke again, it was night. He was certain. It might not have been the next night, but it was night. He sat up, felt slightly woozy, and swung his feet to the floor. He winced in pain. His man Pyle ran toward the bed.

"Lord Malfoy?"

"Get a dressing robe," Draco ordered. He looked down and noticed that he had on a white nightshirt, and nothing else.

"Are you going for tea?" the older man joked.

"No, I need to see my wife and child," Draco insisted.

"I think that is a perfectly good request," Pyle said. He got a robe from the wardrobe, and slipped it over Draco's shoulders, since Draco could not slip his arms into it. It covered his nightshirt the best that it could.

Draco started toward his wife's room, but looked back at Pyle and said, "Is it really over, Pyle?"

"It is indeed, Sir," Pyle said. "This means that I must go back to being a mere Valet. Whatever shall I do with myself?"

"Thank you," Draco said, instead of commenting on the man's statement. The man smiled and nodded, after all, it was what a good servant did.

Draco opened the adjoining door that went from his room to his wife's room. She was on her bed, and Abby was sitting in a chair by her bed, reading a book aloud. It was the book of fairytales. Abby stood when Draco entered the room, placed the book on the table, and curtseyed, before she started toward the main door.

Draco reached out, and grabbed her arm, the whole time his eye's on his wife. "Abby?"

"Sir?"

He looked down at the girl. "Where is my child?"

"In the Nursery, down the hall," she said. "My mother is attending the baby. She was your nurse when you were young, if you recall."

"Yes, she was."

"Do you want to know what you type of baby you had?" she asked with a smile.

Draco smiled back and said, "I hope it was a human one."

"Of course, Sir," the girl said with a laugh.

"My wife will tell me."

"Sir, she is sleeping. The Healer's gave her a blood replenishment potion, and she has been sleeping for the last two days, with only slight moments of wakefulness. I was reading to her, but I am not sure she heard me," Abby said. "She has yet to hold your baby. I am not even aware if she knows what you had yet."

"Then bring the child to us in about an hour," Draco insisted.

Abby smiled and left the room.

Draco placed his body beside hers and gathered her into his arms, the best that he could, with his shoulder injury. He realized he was shaking, and he knew that it was not mere nerves, but something more, more than relief, more than even shock. He felt profound and disturbing contentment, and he was overwhelmed. It was over, she was safe, she was in his arms, and they had a child. It was all either of them had ever wanted. He held her as if she was fragile, because she was, and surely she would break, just as surely as if she were a china doll, or a piece of spun glass.

He kissed the top of her head, and whispered, "You are finally safe. You have your family, Hermione."

"You kept your promise," she said in return.

"Did you pretend to sleep?" he asked, with a smile.

She opened her eyes, though at first she could not focus. She said, "I did not pretend. How shocking that you would accuse me of such a thing. I have been through a lot. I had a baby, you know."

"I was shot," he said, smiling.

She looked up at his face and said, "Well, then, by all means, being shot trumps being kidnapped and having a baby any day."

He laughed and said, "Now, what promise did I keep. I make so many, and most of them are empty."

"You said you would keep me safe," she said.

That statement made him sad, not proud or happy. He said, "Oh, Wife, I did not keep you safe. I did not protect you. Please, do not think that I did. I am ashamed of so many things, but of that one, I am the most ashamed."

"No, Husband, you did. You saved our baby and me. You did. No one else, you did. Harry told me so," she said. She began to cry, so he wiped away her tears and hushed her.

"Fine, believe Potter, since he never lies, and I lie all the time. If he claims that I saved your life, it must be true," he said, with a tint of fake disdain.

She placed a hand, slowly, on his face and said, "He actually told me that the highwayman saved me. How curious is that?"

"Very, Wife, because I thought that man was gone. See, I knew it wasn't me," Draco said with another kiss to her cheek. His arms tightened around her, showering her with warmth and comfort.

"We have a son," Hermione said. "A son."

"That is wonderful," he said, and he meant it. "He is being brought into our room shortly."

She nodded, but her eyes closed again. He said, "You sleep again, my love. You sleep." He remained by her body, stroking, touching, caressing, watching, and trying hard to believe that it was truly and completely over and done. The candles burned low, the sky outside turned darker, and the fire in the fireplace needed stoked twice. His child had been brought in and taken back out, and brought in again while she slept. He held him for a while, not sure what to do with the little thing, for he was so very little. When he was brought in the second time, Draco placed the babe on the bed beside his mother, but she remained asleep.

Finally, he picked the little boy back up, holding him gingerly in one arm, because of his injury, and he walked with him to the window. He sat down by one of the long windows, and looked out at the bright, star filled, night sky. He said, "Someday, this whole world could belong to you, if you so want, little man." He kissed his son's forehead, and held him to his chest.

He looked back over at his wife, as she stirred in her sleep, and he realized that the concern and compassion he felt for her before was tenfold now, and was nothing compared with the fierce compassion and concern he now felt for the little child in his arms, or the woman on the bed. He once heard his mother say that a woman loved their child from birth, but that a father had to learn to love their child. What poppycock. He loved his child already. He loved him more than he could ever imagine.

He would never let fear and helplessness gain control of him again, not with regard to his family. Panic would never again rule him. It would never stifle his love for his family, and terror would never control his life. Neither would selfishness. His family would be first. Gone was the egocentricity that once ruled his life. Gone were the self-centeredness and the life that was ruled by possessions, power and money.

This was what was important, the things in this room. The people here with him: his wife, his child. His child without a name.

He walked over to Hermione's bed and bent down and said, "Wake up, Wife."

She opened her eyes slowly. She smiled when she saw that Draco was holding their small son. "He's so small," she said. She reached up and touched the baby's hand.

"Please, he's sensitive. Do not say things like that," Draco said, as he sat beside her on her bed. She reached over and stroked the baby's head. "It occurred to me, Wife, that he really must have a name."

"We could call him, 'Son', since you call me 'Wife' and I call you 'Husband'," she suggested.

"What utter nonsense," he replied. "He must have a strong name, which denotes his place in the world."

"What is his place?" Hermione asked. She reached for her son, and Draco placed the baby on the bed beside his mother, as the small baby continued to sleep.

"His place is anywhere he wants. He can be or do anything," Draco said softly. "He can be anything, from a highwayman, to a king."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Well, he can," Draco said back.

Abby walked back into the room and said, "I think I should take the baby to his wet nurse."

Hermione nodded, and kissed her son's head. She said, "I am still so tired." Draco lay down beside her, on top of the covers. "Are you in pain?" she asked.

"Nothing too bad," he lied. He was in a lot of pain, but after everything that she had been through all these months, he would not complain. In fact, he was not going to complain ever again.

He stayed on his back, pulled her to his chest with his good arm, and said, "Again, the name of our son is what, Wife?"

"Marcus?" she said.

"After Flint?" he asked, shocked and appalled!

"Oh, I knew I had heard that name somewhere," she said with a yawn. "I've always liked Harry."

"If you refuse to discuss this seriously, we can discuss it at another time," he said to her.

"I like Dante," she said. "Do you?"

"After Dante Alighieri, the Muggle poet?" Draco asked.

"Yes," she answered. "One of my favourite quotes of Dante's is, 'The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.' I think that one describes how brave you were, because during the war, at great risk to yourself, and against everything you were brought up to believe, you did what was right, and you helped the right side. You helped all of us."

"Did I really?" he asked quietly. "Sometimes I wonder if your life would have been better if I had left you alone that day I saw you in the woods. Perhaps I should have just kept watching you from afar, and maybe I should not have talked to you. I should not have approached you. It was selfish of me, but then again, being selfish was what I did best, back then."

"Was it really?" she asked. Her head was on his shoulder, and she placed her hand on his chest. "I think it was selfless. Whether you believe it or not, you gave yourself to me, and I will be forever grateful."

Draco said, "Do you know my favourite Dante quote? 'In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost'."

"Why is that your favourite?" she asked.

"I think it describes how I felt," he said. "I was lost before I met you again. That was why I revealed myself to you in the woods that day. The way was lost, I was lost, and then I saw you, and the way was revealed to me."

"Without hope, we live in desire," Hermione quoted. "We have to have hope. We cannot just want things to happen, but we have to have faith and hope that they will happen, and you have made all my hopes and dreams happen, Husband. Thank you."

Draco smiled. "You have given me so much more than I could ever give you."

"No, because you gave me a family, which I have wanted for so long," she countered.

"Ah," he said, "but you see, Wife, you gave me my life, and my soul, which is a greater gift to bestow. You made me a truly kind and generous man, not just in action, or words, but in my heart."

"You are a sentimental fool, Lord Malfoy," Hermione said, closing her eyes.

"Please, call me Husband, because it matters greatly to me," he said once again.

"Husband, you are a sentimental fool," she repeated.

"Sweeter words, wife, you could never utter," he said. He kissed her brow and closed his eyes as well.

- The End -

(Coming up: Epilogue: A short little future glimpse of their life together)