"Draco?" Hermione whispered imploringly. The man beside her didn't even stir. She sighed quietly. "Draco?" she tried yet again.

She lifted herself on her elbow to lean over him, splaying a hand flat on his chest. "Draco, come on." Her hand moved with the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed even and deep in his slumber.

She pressed a kiss to his temple and rose from the bed. "Fine," she said, "be that way." She stuck her tongue out childishly at his sleeping form and wandered into the bathroom to prepare for the day. She did the necessities before going back into bedroom.

She eyed the drawer that she knew contained the one or two jumpers and a pair of denims that she left there, just as she kept a toothbrush alongside his now. She considered it for a moment before instead venturing into the walk-in closet. She ran a hand along the many collared shirts that hung there and then turned a full circle to spot a white long-sleeve that appealed to her.

Lifting the hanger from the rod, she smiled and slipped the garment off. After she put the hanger back where she'd found it, she went returned to the bedroom and pulled out her own jeans from the drawer. Shedding her pyjamas, she went about finding her camisole as quietly as she could.

Draco woke up in time to see her slip on the located undershirt and wriggle into her jeans.

"Damn," he cursed. "Moments too late."

She laughed as she met his gaze, shaking her head at him while his grin spread slow and sexy on his face. "Good morning," she sang.

He swung himself out of bed and strode over to her as she slipped her arms into the button-up she'd nicked.

"Morning," he greeted, a sleepy kind of peace still holding him. "That's my shirt."

She fiddled to button it up. "It is," she agreed. "You don't mind, do you?"

He came around behind her, his hands finding her waist and turning her to face him. "No. You look quite nice in it, actually."

"Why, thank you."

"Where are you off to?" he asked.

She turned and began folding her sleepwear. "The shop," she replied. "And then I told Harry and Ginny I'd stop by for a drink or something."

Draco frowned.

"You're welcome to come along," Hermione invited. "Whenever you and Blaise are finished lounging around and calling it work, come by the shop. I'll probably leave at about six.

He paused. "Okay."

She smiled, rolling the too long sleeves of his shirt up to her elbows. "I'll see you later then," she told him, taking her wand from the bedside table. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Juliet."

"Shall she come along tonight as well?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded as she returned to stand in front of him and place an incredibly soft and sweet kiss to his lips. "Definitely. James will be there."

"Alright then." He moved to kiss her again but she continued to talk.

"Tell Blaise I said hello."

He nodded and then began to bend his head towards her once again.

"Oh! Juliet has run out of socks," Hermione announced. "I was going to pick some up yesterday but it completely slipped my mind. If you're already going out today then-"

"I'll buy her socks," Draco agreed quickly, his lips meeting hers. She attempted to get another word out but it was muffled by his kiss.

"Okay," she gave him a smile, "I'm off to work. Bye."

Hermione opened up the shop and went in, beginning her morning's to-dos. She shrugged off her cloak and opened the register, lit the fireplace and placed the required precautionary containment charms on it.

A short while later Cory arrived, nattering on about why she was late and what catastrophe kept her and slowed her morning.

"Good morning, Cory," Hermione greeted simply, not bothering to acknowledge the excuses and instead continued on in her work.

Cory hopped up on the counter, something that bothered Hermione to no end but never seemed to resound in the younger girl's mind, and took the prophet that was sticking out of Hermione's bag. As Cory began scanning the first page, Hermione simply shook her head. Boundaries were nearly non-existent to Cory, this had become apparent within the first week she had been working with Hermione.

"I...haven't read that yet," Hermione said. "What does it say this fine morning?"

"Nothing interesting," Cory complained. "Gringott's has a new policy implemented on...hang on. Hermione! Oh, my gosh! Is this true? Let me see it!"

Suddenly Cory was off the counter, a flurry of orange jumper and dark hair flying Hermione's way and grabbing at Hermione's hands. "Why didn't you tell me," she demanded as her eyes landed on the diamond on her boss's finger, "that you and Draco got engaged?"

Hermione gave her a funny look. "I've been wearing the ring for the past week. You haven't asked."

"How was I supposed to know?" Cory said. "Wow, it's beautiful. How rich is he?"

Hermione was appalled at the questioning but disregarded it in favour of a more pressing matter. "Is our engagement is in the paper now?" she asked. "What does it say?"

Cory went on. "I can't believe you kept this from me."

"What does it say?" Hermione asked again.

"When did he propose? How did he propose?"

"Cory!" Hermione snapped. "What does it say? Could you please just-" Giving up, she took her hand back from the girl and marched over to snatch the paper up for her own perusal.

"War Heroine, Hermione Granger, Betrothed to Ex-Death Eater, Draco Malfoy," Hermione read to herself quietly. Her eyes quickly skimmed over the paragraphs. The picture accompanying the short piece was of Hermione and Draco exiting the bookshop, Juliet held on her hip as Draco ran a hand over his hair. A close up of her left hand graced the page as well, the ring blurry due to the distance from which the picture must have been taken. "Miss Granger has been caring for Mister Malfoy's neglected lovechild as her own for a number of months…" She closed her eyes and began to curse under her breath.

Cory watched with widened eyes.

Hermione abruptly jumped and whipped the paper closed. "Cory, I have to go."

"What?"

"Merlin, Draco's probably already read this and I can't imagine what he's…" Hermione stopped herself and took a deep breath. She tossed the paper in the rubbish bin behind the counter and flew to the door. "I have to go. I'll be back in a flash, but please just keep everything in order and help any customers that come in here the best you can. Okay?"

"Okay," Cory replied, beginning to wander about the shop.

"I'll be right back," Hermione said again. She left the shop and apparated back to the manor. "Draco?" she called.

There was no response.

"Yip?"

The little elf popped into the foyer, meeting her with a short nod. "Yes, Miss?"

"Where is Draco?" she asked.

"In the study, Miss."

"Thank you." She turned to head in that direction but stopped and turned back to the elf before she could get very far. "Do you…do you know if he's read the prophet yet?"

Yip nodded sadly. "Yes, Miss. The paper was with Master Draco's breakfast. Yip…Master Draco is not being happy in his study, Miss."

Hermione let out a slow breath. "Thank you."

She hurried her way to the study and entered without knocking. "Draco, I take it you've seen the paper?"

It was blown to bits on the floor.

"Yes."

"I…I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Draco asked. "You didn't write it."

"Yes, but—"

"Did you read it?" he demanded.

"I read a bit," she told him.

"Any thoughts?" he asked.

Hermione's eyebrows drew together. She hadn't known what to expect from him. Anger would have been her first guess, and the scraps of the prophet lying about told her she would have been right. However, now she wasn't quite sure what he was feeling. He was hiding emotions, that much she could tell.

She knew Draco would never be an open book. That wasn't the person he was and she accepted that, respected it even as he had a right to keep some things to himself. Everyone did. What she could not accept was this bottling up he tended to do. He wasn't an expressive person by nature, that was fine, but she expected him to at least try to communicate.

She had no desire to play through this game.

"It's ridiculous," she told him. "I don't know who their source is but—"

He leaned forward on his desk, meeting her eyes and putting his weight on his hands. "They called her a neglected…bastard."

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed.

He went on without any notice to her outburst, his voice sounding strangely detached and flat. It was oddly familiar to Hermione in the worst way. "The daughter of a death eater."

"Draco," she said again. "You know that everyone, everyone that counts, they don't see it that way. At all. They're lies. I thought by now that you'd—"

"No," Draco interrupted. "No. That's the problem. They're not. Everything they said about me is true. Did you read the damn article? Hermione, nothing they said about me was a lie."

"Did you read it?" she asked. The anger began to warm its way through her. "You are nothing like they described! I don't know what you're on about but stop it. Stop it right now. If you think a word of what they said is anything but an ill-informed attempt at gossip then you're denser than…I don't even—"

"You and Juliet," Draco said. "Those were lies. You are much more than they said. So much more. But…nothing they wrote of me was a lie. I was a death eater. I did date my fair share of women. I was an arse to you. And I did fight for the dark side. I was irresponsible. I got a woman pregnant and she died because of it. Yet somehow I'm fit to be someone's father."

"Draco, would you just—"

"They're right. They're right about me. And I can't believe—"

She felt as if her hand acted on its own accord. It was under no direction but impulse that it swung upwards and, fast and quick, she slapped him.

His reaction was unknown to her as her head immediately dropped and her eyes widened at her own feet, horrified and instantly remorseful. Her hands slid into her hair. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should never have…Draco, I'm…" Her hands lowered to her sides, itching to reach out for him.

"Merlin's beard," Draco murmured, his hand against his stinging cheek, having flown to it on instinct the moment she'd struck him. "You've only gotten stronger since we were thirteen then, haven't you?" He rubbed his cheek a moment before his hand dropped and he shook his head.

So it was still Draco standing in front of her, she thought, there was no mistaking that. Hermione felt the tears spring to her eyes as she saw the red imprint of her own hand against his alabaster skin. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"Really," he said dryly.

She nodded.

"Well," he said, "you got me to shut up. What is it you'd like to say?"

She let out a slow sigh. "You need to take a good look at everything. Did you even think before you went on to all this 'woe is me' rubbish? You are not unfit to be Juliet's father," she said. "I don't know how you could possibly think that. You love that little girl like she's your entire world. It's mental to let one stupid article make you doubt that. Do you hear yourself?" She was beside herself with incredulity.

He pulled a hand through his hair roughly. "It's not the article. It's just that I never thought about what it would be like," he said tiredly. "Everything is fine right now. She's a baby. She has no idea of the bad in the world that goes on around her. But, what would she say if she read it?" Draco asked. "What if Juliet read that? What would she say?"

Hermione shook her head and closed her eyes. "Draco," she met his eyes then, staring straight at him, "what's more important is what you would say."

Draco dropped himself into the chair behind his desk. His elbows hit the wooden surface with a thud and his head came to rest on his hands. "I don't know," he muttered. "I don't know what I'd say."

Hermione came to stand beside him, leaning against the desk and moving in front of him when he wouldn't face her. "I can't keep having this conversation with you," she said. "You're not that person anymore. Everyone else knows that. I don't understand why you can't see that. After all the time we've spent together I just…I don't understand. What is it that will convince you?"

It took him a moment before he realized that she had asked him a genuine question that sought a genuine answer. "For her to grow up," he said, "for her to grow up and never have to question what kind of a man I am. What kind of a father." He closed his eyes. "That's unrealistic."

"All children ask about their parents' past," Hermione said, brushing the hair away from his forehead.

"What am I going to say?" he asked. "That I hated her mum in school? I joined the darkest wizard in his ploy to torture and kill the masses?"

"Mum."

Draco looked up at that. "What?"

"You hated me in school," Hermione clarified.

"But I love you now," he said. "See, this why I can't just forget that—"

"Her mum," Hermione repeated. "You…you referred to me as Juliet's…as her mum. I…is that what I'll be?"

He chuckled. "I thought that's what you are."

"Oh."

"What about…"

The name hung loudly in the silence.

"I haven't figured that out yet," Draco confessed. "I haven't figured any of it out. What happens when she wants an explanation?"

"You'll give her one," Hermione said. "In fact, we'll give her one. We'll tell her the truth, Draco."

"Yes," he said dryly, "because every daughter wants a villain for a dad."

She laughed. "You're no villain. You're just a bloke who had some terrible circumstances surrounding his misguided teen years."

"I'm sure she'll understand," Draco commented sarcastically.

"She will," Hermione said.

"Likely."

She shook her head. "You need to go meet Blaise."

"You need to go back to work."

"Yes. So, here's what we will do:" Hermione declared, "you will go meet Blaise, you will go about your day and then come with me to Harry and Ginny's. You will bring Juliet. I am going back to work. I will meet you at five and we will depart to Harry and Ginny's. We will come back to this topic tonight, understood?"

He looked at her with reluctant amusement as he replied, "Yes ma'am."

"Good." She placed a kiss to his forehead and then on his lips as he tilted his face towards her expectantly. When her lips left his, he made to stand from the chair but she took hold of his chin and turned his face to the side. "Oh my," she said.

He went to touch his cheek but she brushed his hand away, surveying the red mark herself. "Can you count five fingers?" he asked.

"Draco, I'm so sorry." She winced as her fingertips touched feather light over the mark. She took out her wand and pressed the tip to his cheek, murmuring a spell. Draco felt a cool tingle spread along his skin. Hermione's lips followed softly after her wand.

She smiled ruefully. "I'm really sorry. That…there's no excuse."

He smirked. "I've received worse. At least this time I don't have to walk around with a red cheek."

"Well, not red per se," she told him. "You just have a bit of a blush now, I'm afraid."

"I can deal with that," Draco said. "So long as you give me something to blush about."

"So, Ginny, I read the article you wrote on Puddlemere."

Draco moved Juliet to sit between him and Hermione, her bottle finished and her chin milk-free. James toddled over to Juliet and pulled at her pink booties. The little girl watched him curiously but didn't fuss as the boy smiled at her.

"And?" Ginny asked, keeping an eye on her son's actions. "I'm sure you've something to say about it. What are you?"

Hermione gave Ginny and Draco a funny look, prompting Ginny to elaborate. "I've only gotten two different responses for that piece," she said. "It's either utter crap or complete brilliance. What are you, Mister Malfoy?"

"Complete brilliance," Draco told her, smirking around his glass of wine. "However, I'd like to see what you'd say otherwise, so for the sake of a good argument, your piece was utter crap."

As Ginny indulged the hypothetical, Hermione shook her head, turning to Harry.

"Have you two talked about the wedding yet?" Harry asked pleasantly. "When? Where? Who's invited?"

"No, nope, and…well, you're invited, Harry," Hermione told him with a grin.

He beamed back. "I better be. Otherwise I'd have to sneak in and Merlin knows how good I am at that."

Hermione laughed. "All too well," she said.

"Big wedding or small wedding?" Harry asked.

"I…" Hermione stopped. Ginny and Draco seemed to tune into the conversation between her and Harry then. "I don't know. Draco?" she asked. "Big wedding or small wedding?"

Draco shrugged. "Whatever you'd like."

"Typical," Ginny said. "Men are so disinterested in anything planning related."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "I helped with all of the wedding plans!"

"Yes, Harry, you were wonderful. But you are also far from typical," his wife told him.

"And I'm not disinterested," Draco contradicted, "I just don't mind either way. So long as we're both there, Hermione makes it all the way down the aisle, we're pronounced husband and wife and I get to take her home and carry her over the threshold, I'm happy."

"And which threshold would that be?" Ginny questioned.

"Pardon?" Draco said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Where are you two going to live?" she asked slowly. "Hermione, are you moving in with Draco then?"

Hermione placed her glass on the coffee table. "No," she began. Draco looked noticeably surprised. "Did…did you expect me to?"

"I—why wouldn't you?"

Harry and Ginny shared a look. "Well, you have plenty of time to figure it out," Ginny said hurriedly.

"Yeah, I don't think Gin and I decided to move in here at Grimmauld until we had started planning the wedding already," Harry added.

"I don't think I could live in the manor," Hermione said, hardly hearing her friends as she faced Draco with a troubled look.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I'm not comfortable there. It's always going to hold bad memories."

"You've been fine until now," Draco pointed out.

Hermione was set on edge by this and somewhere in the back of his mind Draco was realizing that he should not have said that. It would have been a good idea to take it back then, do his best to erase the comment's existence entirely. Draco was sorely lacking in good ideas in that moment though and it was due to this that the conversation continued as it did. Badly.

"I don't like it there," she said.

"What?"

"I. Don't. Like. It. There." Her voice remained calm as ever but her eyes looked at him expectantly, daring him to say something contradictory.

"So, all this time you've just hated—"

"I haven't hated being there," she said. "I just…Draco, you have to understand, I can't live there. I can't make that place my home. I can't—I won't, for matter."

Harry and Ginny were looking at each other uncomfortably; both thinking that perhaps Hermione and Draco needed some privacy. Neither Hermione nor Draco took notice of this.

"And you're only saying something now?" Draco asked.

"We're only talking about it now," Hermione countered.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"So, you won't move in to the manor?"

"No," she said flatly.

"Alright then." But there was a tightness to his voice.

Hermione swallowed her last bit of wine and then thanked Harry and Ginny and made her excuses.

Draco stood with her but she kept her eyes from him as she said goodnight and that she'd see him tomorrow. He sat back down, pulling Juliet into his lap, and watched Hermione disappear with a crack.

There was an awkward silence as Draco closed his eyes and Harry shook his head, Ginny rolled her eyes and said something about men being oblivious under her breath.

"Scale of one to ten," Draco muttered to the floor, "how badly did I just screw things?"

Harry laughed. "Mate, you have to give us a point of reference," he said.

"One being…hardly at all, and ten being…Voldemort," Draco drawled in exasperation.

"Six," Ginny said decidedly.

"Damn it all," Draco said.

"It's not so bad," Harry consoled, a smirk still quirking the corners of his mouth.

"Not so bad," Draco echoed. "Not when you add it to the four or five I caused earlier today."

Ginny gave him a sympathetic, yet amused look. "Well, then in that case you've gone and broken the scale, Malfoy." She hopped up from the couch and scooped up her son, telling Harry that she was going to get him settled for bed.

Harry shook his head at the sorrowful man before him. "Malfoy, tell me you're not so much of an arse that you can't at least understand why Hermione wouldn't want—"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, I understand. But why the bloody hell is she only mentioning this now? If I had known that she couldn't handle being there then I—we could have dealt with this…"

"Dealt with it?" Harry asked. "Malfoy, you have more money than you know what to do with and even if you didn't, your house is bloody massive. Move!"

"What?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Move. Go somewhere else. Find another house."

"Oh."

Harry threw his hands up. "Malfoy," he muttered.

"Is she really that angry?" Draco asked.

Harry leaned back on the couch and shrugged. "Knowing Hermione, I'd bet that she's mostly upset that she didn't think to bring this up beforehand and that both of you…well, I'm not entirely sure what just happened but she's gone and left and you're still here, and well, I'm not entirely sure why that is, either."

Draco scowled.

"You know, I bet if you went home now within the next half hour Hermione would be there wanting to talk things out. Or apologize. I don't really know how you two fight yet. Only ever been me and her or her and Ron."

This only furthered Draco's scowl.

"Oh, don't be a tosser," Harry said. "Besides, now that Hermione's gone, I don't know that I want you here anymore." He grinned and Draco laughed.

"Cuing me home, Potter?" Draco asked. "And I was having such a great time."

"You're leaving, Malfoy?" Ginny reappeared then, her son away in his bed now. "Going to Hermione's?"

Draco stood and then lifted Juliet in his arms, adjusting her comfortably in his hold. She pulled on the collar of his shirt and let out quiet cry. Draco sighed. "Apparently not," he said, nodding at his daughter with fond aggravation.

"She's probably just tired," Ginny said, sitting down next to her husband and leaning against him with a tired yawn of her own. Juliet whimpered.

"I know she's tired," Draco said, "thanks for pointing that out."

"So, what're you getting your knickers all in a twist for?" Ginny asked. "Take her home and put her to sleep."

Juliet began to cry. "That's why," he said. "And she's just getting started."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"Anyway," Draco said, as his daughter's cries began to gain volume, "thanks for having us."

"See you Sunday."

Draco rocked Juliet back and forth and back forth and pressed buttons on the tape recorder in effort to get the tape to play. It would not comply and the black ribbon Hermione had mentioned to be quite important in her tutorial of the little mechanism appeared to be all knotted up within the device.

He sighed.

Juliet cried.

Estelle was off fixing another bottle for the baby, in the unlikely case that it would help, so Draco was on his own for the moment, bouncing gently with Juliet and singing something he often heard Hermione singing around her. Something about teddy bears. He didn't know the real words in all honesty. He was just making some up on the spot, not too terrible, if he did say so himself, and it wasn't as though Juliet was about to correct him. If she could even hear him over her wailing.

Estelle came back then, no bottle in sight, Draco noticed.

"Well?" Draco asked.

"I've something better," Estelle said.

"What?" Draco asked, raising his voice above Juliet's crying.

Hermione shook her head and came through the door, taking Juliet from him and smiling kindly at Estelle. "We had a conversation to finish," she told him. She held the infant close her and rubbed soothing circles on her back, swaying from side to side and gently hushing her.

Within minutes, Estelle had retired to her room and Juliet's tears had ceased. Hermione turned to the exhausted man beside her.

"We'll move," he said.

She laughed softly. "We do have quite a bit to sort through, don't we? "

"I hadn't known you weren't comfortable here," he told her.

"This isn't me. I can't picture raising a family here," she stated, sighing as she realized that brought up yet another question. "Draco, do you want more kids?"

He looked at his daughter, who looked so much like him, asleep in her crib at last. "Do you?"

"I do."

"Soon?"

"No."

He pulled her snugly against his side and kissed the top of her head. "Okay. I'm thinking strong coffee and chat?"

"Milk, please."

"Milk it is."

A/N: Can I be totally honest with all of you? I'm going to be totally honest with all of you. I am awful for not updating this. I am very sorry. But, I sort of hate this story now. I don't think of it like I used to and I really hate that. I don't know if any of you are still reading, bless your hearts if you are, but I'm feeling really conflicted about what I'm going to do with this now.

I'm sure that gives you a lot of confidence in me, no?

On a side note, if you ever review with questions, please sign in so I can at least attempt to reply to them and offer a decent answer. Also, thank you all for FIVE HUNDRED REVEIWS! They mean a whole lot.

Anyways,

Scarlett