Back again! Sorry for the delay in uploading the new chapter. Life got in my way big time! Thanks for your patience. As always, JKR created this, I just borrowed it temporarily.

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Chapter Seventeen

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Hermione sat quietly on the sofa in the library, nursing a cup of tea and staring into the fireplace, lost in her own thoughts. Draco had offered to put Sophie to bed after an enjoyable dinner together, and she'd reluctantly agreed. It was true she was exhausted from a day of moving bags and settling Sophie back into her room and she was grateful for the help, but she also didn't want to become dependent on Draco. She didn't want him to feel like he had to run around after her, taking care of her every whim. She'd been self-sufficient for so long now, and didn't want to be treated like some helpless invalid or to put any excessive strain on his shoulders either.

She knew that Draco cared about her and that he wanted to look after her as her health declined, but she also knew that he could easily become overwhelmed by his sense of duty, so to speak, and push himself too hard. She'd been reading a muggle book about dealing with terminal illness, and it spoke in great detail about the pressures placed on family members or carers who were in the middle of the grieving process themselves.

With a sigh, Hermione sipped thoughtfully at her tea, closing her eyes as the warmth from the fire spread through her tired and aching body.

Narcissa was still staying at a spa near the coastal town they'd visited a while ago, but she was expected back in a couple of days. That would mean having another difficult conversation.

And then there was the terrifying prospect of the conversation she'd have to have with Sophie one day soon…

Unfortunately Hermione couldn't hide the truth from her daughter forever. If she continued getting sicker and sicker then Sophie would need to understand what was happening to her mother, and to prepare herself for what came next.

What does come next exactly…?

There were so many decisions to make and so much to consider. But somehow returning here to this house and eating dinner with Draco tonight… it felt good. She hadn't expected that it would feel so good, actually.

Pushing away her bleaker thoughts, Hermione rested her head back on the couch cushions and pictured her daughter's face earlier at the dinner table, laughing with innocent delight as Draco cut her food up into funny shapes before he fed them to her. It sure was nice seeing them together. With her mind pleasantly occupied, she almost didn't notice the wizard in question entering the room.

"Hermione?"

She blinked and looked up at him from where he stood smiling softly in the doorway.

"You look a thousand miles away," he told her, and she wondered if he'd called her name more than once to get her attention. Hermione patted the seat next to her, inviting him to join her on the couch. He sidled over and did so, pouring himself a cup of tea from the pot that Roly had prepared.

"I was just thinking about Sophie," she explained, a wistful smile stretching her lips as she looked into the flickering glow of the fireplace.

"Yeh she's… I really…I just…" he seemed almost lost for words and she flicked her gaze over towards him. His eyes were tender and unfocused and he looked like he was about to burst with unbridled affection.

"She's burrowed under your skin big time, hasn't she?" Hermione murmured softly, bringing his gaze back to hers with the soft sincerity of her words, "it's okay to love her, Draco. Merlin knows I do."

"You really are a wonderful mother," he told her with such sincerity it made her stomach flutter with emotion. Gratitude, joy, sadness, guilt…

"I haven't been much of a mother lately," she admitted, her cheeks flushing red, "I've dragged her from place to place, making crazy decisions like marrying a former nemesis and virtual stranger just so I can provide enough for her to live on when I'm gone. I just… I don't want my daughter to get hurt. But at the same time I know it's inevitable."

Draco frowned and leaned closer, grasping onto her hand with his colder one.

"Hey, don't say that."

She shook her head, giving him a sad smile and squeezing his hand.

"But it's true. When I… when I die, Sophie will be all alone-"

"She won't be! Hermione, I promise you she won't be. And anyway, I'm not giving up on you yet."

Hermione let out a short breath, bemused by his persistent optimism in the face of reality.

"It's already over, Draco. I just want to make my peace with everything and spend time with the people I care about."

Draco shook his head stubbornly, pulling her hand up to his chest and holding on tightly as he fixed her with his steely gaze.

"Don't you dare give up," he murmured, "things might be different now. I have money and connections… I'm going to get you the best damn specialist in the whole bloody world and pay for whatever potions or spells we can find that might work."

"It's certainly a nice thought, Draco," she whispered reluctantly, though she wasn't entirely convinced by his bravado. But she could tell that he had already started thinking about the problem. His gaze was fixed on the wall behind her and he was frowning deeply in thought.

"I should go to Spinner's End. Maybe Snape left something in one of his old notebooks-"

She let him contemplate this idea for a moment, wondering why on earth Snape's house hadn't been demolished after the war. He'd been branded as a villain in all the papers and both his former death eater compatriots and the ministry goons had all denounced Harry's story about the heroic sacrifices he'd made. It still hurt to think about the poor man's suffering all those years when they had all been so blind to what was really going on. There hadn't even been a body to bury after everything had passed. The poor, dour man had been all alone in the end, save for that brief glimpse he'd had of Harry's eyes, the same shade as Lily's.

"It's very sweet that you're trying," she told Draco gently when she noticed that he'd been lost in his thoughts. Her words caught his attention once more. He stared at her with something that resembled frustration before he lifted his other hand to push a curl behind her ear. She saw him visibly swallow as his eyes drank in her face.

"I meant what I said…" he murmured, "I'm going to look after you. I'm going to save you."

"And if you can't?"

He gave her a troubled look, shaking his head in denial.

"Then at least we'll all be together when…when…" he wasn't able to finish his statement, and dropped his head. Hermione knew how he felt. She'd gone through this phase too, back when she'd been unable to really accept the truth of her prognosis. She touched the back of her hand, saving him from these darker thoughts.

"I know, Draco. That's why I came back. I don't want to do this alone."

He nodded, clenching his jaw as his hand twitched under hers.

"But this isn't just about companionship anymore. I want this to be a real marriage, Hermione," he told her, almost warily. She nodded slowly, leaning into his touch.

"I know. And I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry that I made you feel like I didn't…" she sighed, "like I didn't care about you. But I was scared. I didn't want to drag you down with me."

Draco's mouth twisted into the slightest of frowns.

"For the smartest witch of our age, you can be really dumb sometimes, you know," he told her a bit crossly.

"Thanks," she replied dryly, but he straightened and gave her a sharp look.

"I'm serious. You took away my choice. No matter how we got into this marriage, I'm your husband. And I choose to stand by your side no matter what."

Hermione's breath caught with a slight hitch.

"Even if it means putting your own life on hold?" she asked him curiously, but he just looked at her like she was crazy.

"Hermione, don't you get? You and Sophie… you are my life!"

She was too overwhelmed by his words to really say anything. On some level she thought maybe he deserved something more from her; some kind of declaration of her own feelings. She'd given him so little, really. But the last time she'd said anything…romantic to someone had been with Viktor. She'd been damaged from the war and completely unaware that he'd been gambling away all their money and accruing a debt that would plague her and their daughter for years to come. It was hard to find the words now after all that.

"You look tired," Draco noted, brushing the backs of his fingers over her cheek, "It's been a big day."

Hermione nodded mutely, watching as he rose to his feet once more. He held out a steady hand to help her up from the couch.

"Let's go to bed, love," he murmured so softly she almost didn't hear him. He drew her closer, keeping their hands connected between them. He tugged her forwards and she meekly followed him, a wave of sleepiness washing over her at his gentle treatment, the name love reverberating throughout her whole body.

Together they walked upstairs, hand-in-hand. Hermione's heart was drumming a familiar, nervous beat as they approached the bedrooms. She wondered where he was taking her. Earlier the house elves had put her suitcase away for her, but where? Would she be returning to her original room or back to his room? Her question was soon answered as they came to a door and he eased it open, revealing the simple, masculine tones of black and white.

"Is this okay?" he asked her, visibly swallowing and gesturing to the room. Hermione looked up into his steely grey eyes and saw the uncertainty and the sadness mingled there. His anxiety, curiously enough, made her own courage swell, and suddenly she knew without a doubt what she wanted.

She wanted to feel the warmth of Draco's body lying next to hers as she slept. She wanted to smell the lingering aroma of his cologne on her sheets. Even just the thought of it brought her comfort. So she gave his hand a squeeze and smiled up at him.

"It's perfect," she told him, and in that moment she knew she'd stopped fighting this. Finally the last, stubborn speck of doubt crumbled away and she succumbed to the simple pleasure of having someone by her side to take care of her for the first time in years.

Draco's lips twitched into a smile, half smug and half relieved. He drew her into the room and directed her to where the elves had folded some of her belongings.

"You'll find your night wear here, I believe," he told her softly, "you can use the bathroom first."

Hermione nodded and picked up a pair of simple cotton pyjamas she spotted on top of the pile. Disappearing into the bathroom and locking the door, she took a moment to breathe deeply in and out.

Looking into the mirror, Hermione quickly gave herself a pep talk. This was it. This was Draco's choice. He wanted to be with her. And despite all her crippling self-doubts and the overwhelming feeling that maybe she didn't deserve his love, it seemed he was giving it to her anyway.

He loves me.

Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him now. Did she love him too? She knew that she'd never felt this way before. She'd said those three little words to Viktor many years ago, but she'd been young and foolish. This felt different. Maybe it was because he was different. Or maybe it was because she was running out of time. But when he touched her or even smiled at her she just felt…alive. Like there was an electric current running through her body, and she couldn't help but light up in his presence. She was amazed she was even able to run away from all that, but she supposed that fear was a powerful motivator.

It was ironic really. During the war her Gryffindor courage had never failed her; she'd run straight into the path of danger time and time again. Even when Ron had left them, she'd stayed despite the constant threat of death looming over their heads. Then after the war something had just clicked inside her. She'd needed to escape from all the admiration and vitriol that seemed to follow her around in equal measure. So she'd fled the country in the arms of Viktor Krum. Then later she'd moved from place to place, uprooting their lives ever few months to try and avoid the attention of the goblins rather than tackling them head on. And now this time she'd fled from Draco the moment he'd offered her something real and good, something she secretly knew she wanted more than anything even though he hadn't known the full truth about her.

When had she started running away from her problems? What was wrong with her? When had self-preservation become so important to her that she had allowed it to ruin her?

Frowning to herself and feeling a bit deflated by this line of thinking, Hermione quickly got changed into her pyjamas, scrubbing her teeth clean and washing her face. Hesitantly, she made her way back out into the bedroom, where Draco had evidently already changed into his pyjamas. He smiled at her a bit sheepishly himself, giving her a longing look as he passed her on his way into the bathroom.

Hermione sighed and made her way to the bed. She may as well get ready to sleep as she waited for him, she thought. Taking out some supplies from her toiletries bag, she quickly combed and manoeuvred her hair into a tight braid and tied it off. As she was finishing off the last twist of the elastic, Draco emerged from the bathroom and that same awkward tension filled the room once more.

"Er… shall we?" he asked, gesturing stiffly to the bed and she nodded, not meeting his eye as the two of them eased their way under the covers and adopted matching positions lying on their back, both staring up at the ceiling. She could hear the sound of his slow, steady breaths and smell the fresh aroma of soap on his skin.

Hermione turned onto her side, looking at his profile as he lay there. The room was lit only dimly by one faint bedside lamp but she could still trace her gaze over the sharp contours of his face, the square line of his jaw and his soft, pale skin, freshly shaven.

After a while, Draco tilted his head to return her gaze, moving his body to lie on his side in a mirroring position when he saw that she had her attention on him.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured quietly, and she could feel the gentle puff of his breath on her face, the slight hint of spearmint mixing with the smell of the soap he'd used. He reached out and softly touched the indent in her forehead where she'd been frowning, as if it were a clue to her answer.

"I was thinking about what happens now," she replied in a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…I was wondering what a real marriage is supposed to look like?"

Draco smirked, moving the same hand to brush over her hair, tracing it down the length of her braid as it curled down over her shoulder.

"I don't know. I've never been married properly before."

"True. But technically we've also never even really dated," she reminded him, causing him to release a low chuckle.

"Dating is for people who are testing what they have between them and seeing if it works, right? Well, I already know that you're the witch for me."

Hermione shook her head against her pillow, wondering how he had the confidence to speak so sincerely from the heart. It was a long cry from the repressed, controlled boy of their youth. She swallowed then, chewing on her lip as she worked up the courage to say what she wanted to next.

"I really am sorry for what I put you through-"

"Hermione-"

"No let me finish. It wasn't fair for me to take away your choice. Or to make decisions for the both of us without considering your feelings. I'm sorry for not realising sooner that I need you now more than ever, and that this thing between us became real long before I tried to stop it."

Draco spent a few seconds absorbing this and visibly swallowed.

"It's alright," he soothed her, stroking a finger along her brow, "it's in the past now. Let's just concentrate on our future."

Hermione felt the colour leave her cheeks, wondering when the word 'future' had become such an unfair, depressing little term.

What future?

For all the happiness and comfort that she felt now lying in bed with Draco, there was still the underlying fear that this whole beautiful thing had a ticking clock attached to it.

"Does…does it hurt? Can you feel it?" Draco asked her in a hoarse voice, making her eyes widen in surprise. She wondered whether he'd noticed her sudden pallor, realising that he deserved her complete honesty from this point forwards.

"Not exactly. It comes and goes. Sometimes I feel like there's this terrible pressure in there, like a fist closing tightly around me. Draining me. And sometimes it just feels numb. There are good days and bad days."

"And what about now?" he asked her warily. She looked at him tenderly in response, noticing how concerned he was and how his fingers twitched as if they wanted to reach out and comfort her.

"Today is a good day," she informed him quietly, holding his gaze as her lips curled into a soft smile.

"That's… good," he noted. Then she held her breath as he inched a little closer to her on the bed. Now they were so close she could see the faint worry marks etched into his skin around his eyes, as well as the slightest trace of blue in his steely grey gaze.

"Can I ask you something, Hermione?" he murmured so quietly that she found herself shuffling forwards a bit as well.

"Sure."

"That night… at the bed and breakfast…"

Hermione stomach fluttered nervously and her mouth went dry in an instant.

"Uhuh…" she acknowledged faintly.

"Did you… why did…" Draco closed his eyes and took a breath to steady himself, "did my behaviour that night truly upset you? What we did… was it the reason you decided to end things between us?"

Hermione stared at Draco guiltily, deeply regretting the way she'd made him feel. Making love and then running off with her tail between her legs the following morning must have been quite the unpleasant shock to him, after all. She simply couldn't let him continue to feel responsible for scaring her off or some such nonsense.

"Well…in a sense, yes," she told him quietly, staring at the neckline of his t-shirt and tracing the stitching with her eyes, "but not in the way you're imagining." She lifted her gaze to his then and licked her lips. "I heard what you said, before we fell asleep."

Draco furrowed his brows in confusion.

"What I said…?"

"You told me you love me," she reminded him softly, making him blink.

"Yes I did," he murmured slowly, "Was I wrong to say it?"

"No!" she exclaimed, "but at the time it scared me. Because I thought it would be easier if we didn't give in to our feelings. If we just ignored them, then you could move on with your life and start a real family without looking back."

"Foolish witch," he grumbled, tugging her towards him and resting his chin on top of her head. One of his arms came around her waist and Hermione shivered as she felt herself pressed against him so intimately.

"As for the rest of that night…" she mumbled into his chest once she built up enough courage. Draco tilted his head back, peering down at her with a smirk.

"Oh yeh? What about it?"

"Well, it was scary in a good way," she joked, licking her lips and avoiding his gaze.

"Scary?" he laughed.

"Overwhelming," she corrected, "there was a lot to take in."

Draco smiled down at her.

"It was rather… rushed," he admitted sheepishly, a blush growing on his pale cheeks.

"But still good," she reassured quickly.

"Really good," he agreed.

Hermione sighed and gnawed on the inside of her cheek uncertainly for a moment.

"Draco…"

"Yes?" he used one finger to tilt her chin up so she would meet his eye. She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat.

"I don't know if I'm… ready for all that. Not yet. It all happened so fast the first time, and now I've just moved back in and-"

Draco moved his finger to her lips, stemming the flow of reasons why they shouldn't just sleep with each other straight away. He smiled at her, his grey eyes surprisingly warm with feeling.

"Hermione, I love you. And I swore to you that I would protect you and stay by your side no matter what. Just like you promised that you'd stay here with me. That's all I need right now. God knows I want you, and if I'm perfectly honest, just lying here in bed with you is driving me kinda crazy… but the last thing I want is to rush things again. If we ever… do that again, then it will be because you're ready for it and because you're feeling comfortable and healthy, and not a moment sooner. Okay?"

Hermione nodded numbly, her eyes a bit glazed over by the sweetness of his words.

"Okay," she mumbled shyly, looking at him with such a swell of gratitude and affection. His thoughtfulness almost took her breath away. A whimsical voice in the back of her head wished for a moment that she still had a time turner so she could travel back to their first year and tell the old spiteful, selfish little Draco what a wonderful man he would turn out to be. If only he'd known what was in store for him back then.

But then Draco's smile turned a bit sly, and she noticed a glimmer in his eyes.

"However," he continued in a sprightly voice, giving her a meaningful look, "I feel I should warn you that, although I will respectfully and patiently wait for the whole package, no matter how long it takes, I reserve the right, as your husband and the man who loves you, to steal a kiss or two when the mood strikes me."

Hermione blinked at him, stunned by the sudden cheekiness in his demeanour, as well as his words themselves.

"When do-"

She began to ask him when he planned to steal these alleged kisses, but her question was cut short. No sooner had she started speaking than Draco leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her quite thoroughly. He dragged her bottom lip between his, kissing her slowly and deliberately, before drawing back so tenderly she felt a shiver pass through her from head to toe at the loss of his mouth on hers.

"Right now, for example," he noted in a slightly husky whisper against her lips. Hermione opened her eyes to stare at him, hardly daring to draw breath.

"I don't suppose the mood ever strikes you twice in a row…" she murmured, wondering when she'd decided to play along with his little game. It just felt so good to kiss him again. For his part, Draco grinned almost triumphantly, before leaning in and repeating the process once more. And once again it was absolute heaven. When he drew back this time, Hermione swallowed and kept her eyes closed as she tried to slow her heart rate.

"So do you plan to steal these kisses quite often from now on?" she asked in a bemused tone. Draco chuckled, his nose stroking down the length of hers as his lips hovered over her mouth.

"Oh yes, frequently," he told her quite matter-of-factly, "case in point-"

Then they were kissing again, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from whimpering, especially when he threaded his hand through her hair and tugged her closer. When he released her this time, she chased his lips and planted a soft kiss of her own on his mouth.

"Maybe we should… go… to… sleep," she murmured reluctantly, blinking her eyes open when she felt Draco push a loose curl behind her ear that had escaped her braid.

"I think that's probably a good idea," he agreed wryly, letting out a deep breath and pulling himself together. Clearly he was just as affected by the kisses as she was.

Hermione snuggled deeper under the blanket, the two of them lying and watching each other cautiously. Draco tugged the covers up under their chins, making sure that she was swaddled completely in the expensive cotton sheets and sinfully soft quilt. Despite the large size of the bed they were close, almost pressed up against each other. Eventually Hermione shivered and found the confidence to speak what was on her mind.

"So if kissing is still definitely on the table, then what about…cuddling?" she asked shyly, and Draco chuckled at her somewhat pleading tone.

"Oh definitely!" he agreed, his actions smooth and graceful as he made it a reality. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side so that she was lying half on top of him, her head resting on his chest. Hermione was glad she'd tied her hair into a braid, as it would have undoubtedly smothered him otherwise. The two of them lay like this for a while, both succumbing to their drowsiness. It had certainly been a long and tumultuous day.

"Thank you for keeping your promise," he whispered against the top of her head after a long silence. Hermione burrowed deeper into his arms, her eyes closed and her mind turning a bit foggy from sleep. She blearily remembered promising that she would let him look after her, that she would come back and stay with him. She was no longer too scared to admit that this was where she belonged. Where her and Sophie both belonged.

"We're home now. This is our home," she mumbled drowsily, drifting off to sleep even as she felt Draco's hand tighten around her shoulders, his thumb brushing tenderly over her skin. The last thing she heard as her consciousness faded was Draco humming in agreement as he emitted a small, tremulous sigh into her hair.

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A long dose of angsty fluff this time. Sorry if it got dull! Please review!