I think some people may have missed the previous chapter. I snuck it in there last weekend. Don't forget to check it out before reading this one. Thanks so much to everyone who left a review. I know I don't get to reply to each one but I so appreciate that you go through the effort. :)
There's a couple more chapters left but it's time to start tying up loose ends...here we go.
23 December, 2007: 4:00pm
"It will be fine," Hermione assured her.
She wasn't actually sure that she believed that herself but there was no way she was telling her daughter that. Not when they stepped into the floo and prepared to spin away to the Burrow.
The twenty-third of December was traditionally the day that Hermione took Rose to see the Weasleys and give her grandparents a present. It was a tradition she'd started when she was still just a baby. It seemed right. The feeling had been driven home when she watched Molly Weasley tear up holding her first grandchild. Those had been such fragile days. Her emotions had been frayed and the walls around her heart built with stone.
Rose having a relationship, whatever kind she could, with Molly and Arthur seemed important though. They'd given her the space she wanted, they made it clear they were always available to her, if only not to be kept from knowing their granddaughter.
And so like clockwork, she and Rose would take the floo every twenty-third of December and exchange the gifts, have a slice of cake, and then return home. Once Harry and Ginny married, that meant Christmas Eve lunch was to be had with them at Grimmauld Place, too. To say they were disappointed when they heard the change of plans was an understatement but Draco made amends by inviting them to France for Boxing Day. Harry had hesitated but Ginny jumped on the offer.
Things change with time and it was difficult and yet simultaneously exciting as well. She'd stayed up late last night with Draco, wrapping gifts for Pipsy to take over to the chateau for them. He'd been terrible at it but was a quicker study with wrapping than he was with cooking. By the time they were done with those for Rose and their respective mothers, he hid himself in their bathroom with the half-kneazle cat he'd smuggled in without Rose seeing to wrap hers, returning with some immaculately wrapped boxes of various sizes and a few small scratches on his feet.
Her heart was still heavy with emotion as she and Rose exited the Weasley's floo. Her eyes scanned the empty room, passing over the old Weasley clock that still tracked the family's whereabouts. If she'd been paying closer attention, she might have noticed one spoon in particular now pointed to home.
She nearly stepped towards the doors, imagining Molly had run outside for something when she caught movement from the corner of her eyes. Ron stood from the beaten sofa slowly, his eyes flickering between her and Rose and a copy of the Dailey Prophet dangling between his fingers. She caught the briefest flash of the front page and she knew without looking that the picture was of her and Draco with Rose outside of George's shop.
She still didn't enjoy being plastered on the front page of the stupid thing but a small part of her appreciated the change in how she looked in the pictures. She knew she'd always looked rather dour and cautious whenever they snapped photos in the past. Seeing herself smile from someone else's perspective was oddly freeing.
Ron opened his mouth but promptly shut it. Instead, he forced the tiniest smile for Rose. It was a tentative thing, laced with uncertainty and strain. He didn't move an inch at first, clearly weighing his movements carefully.
His eyes fell on Rose and blue met blue. "Are you here to see your gran?" He asked, his voice careful and gentle.
Rose's front teeth dug into her lip and squeezed Hermione's hand. She tilted her head back to meet her eyes and Hermione squeezed back. "It's alright."
At least, at the moment it was. She'd not sought him out after his and Draco's scuffle at the pub. She hadn't really cared to hear what he had to say. Not for anger but—she had more things in her life to worry over these days than Ron Weasley.
Rose nibbled at her lip before she looked at him again. "No, she's my nan."
Something in Hermione's chest hollowed out at the smallness of her voice. When confident and secure, Rose was a funny, vocal child. She only got truly quiet when she was uncertain or scared. Hearing that soft tone ate at Hermione more than anything else.
He swallowed and nodded. "Er…she stepped into the garden just a minute ago. I'll let her know you're here."
He hitched a thumb over his shoulder before shuffling out of the room without another word. Hermione turned quickly and pointed.
"Sweetheart, I want you to take a seat and wait there."
Rose gripped the box in her hands, all wrapped in muggle cartoon characters that she'd let her pick out herself.
"But mummy—"
Oh Merlin. She pulled the 'mummy' card. It was hard enough becoming mum more often than not after being mummy only for so many years but hearing it when her child needed her the most sent her into protective mode.
She knelt and took her face in her hands. "Everything will be fine." She rearranged her expression into a bright smile for her and lifted her left hand to show Rose her rings. "I'm quite taken, aren't I? And you've got a new dad."
She nodded but it was clear that didn't quite assuage her nerves. Hermione lifted her hands to her small shoulders and guided her to the sofa. "We won't let him or anyone else take anything from you. Not me. Not your dad. And not your grandparents. Alright?"
Rose drew in a deep breath and nodded again. She sat on the sofa and Hermione could feel her eyes on her as she watched her leave the room. She was going to be a Gryffindor, alright.
She caught Ron passing through the kitchen. He stopped short of opening the door, his hand frozen on the knob.
"I swear on my wand I didn't know you were coming. I wouldn't have come by," he said.
Hermione crossed her arms carefully. Less to protect and more to comfort. This was his childhood home. Technically, he had more right to be here than she did so she would need to tread carefully.
"It's been our tradition. I always bring her on the twenty-third to see them before Christmas. I sort of assumed they would have told you."
Ron reached back to scratch at his neck, a nervous gesture. "Ah—well…things are a bit strained, I guess. I'll go if I need to. I just—please don't punish my mum and dad because of me."
She drew back as if he'd struck her. "I have not once kept her from them."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and swayed a little on his feet. In that moment, he was insecure and uncertain. It reminded her of the boy she'd once had a crush on. The one who jumped in front of Death Eaters for her during the battle.
Now, he didn't look as indignant as when he first arrived in England. He looked a fair bit ashamed.
His mouth twitched a little in a funny sort of smile. Not happy but it softened his features. "But you have. A little anyway. And they know it." He changed the pitch of his voice. "Hermione never brings her round just because. She never asks Molly to watch her. They blame me." He quickly lifted a hand to stop her when she opened her mouth. "And rightfully so. This is my fault, Hermione. I know it is. Trust me. I've had enough of them tell me so. I just—I realize now that there's nothing I can do to fix what I did and didn't do. It was really stupid of me to even ask. I can only move forward now."
She inhaled a breath. "Nice to see you finally own it."
He swallowed. "I still don't like that Malfoy is raising my kid."
"That isn't something you have a say in. And I'd like you to stop referring to her as yours. She's not. You gave that right up when you didn't come back, Ron."
He nodded and sighed. "I know. I also know you never listed me as her father. I get it, Hermione. That's all I wanted to say. I'm not going to cause trouble. I'm not going to say anything else to Malfoy. I just only hope that maybe one day…maybe she'll at least be comfortable enough to say hello to me. Probably more than I deserve but," he shrugged, "I can't help but hope."
A tiny part of her softened. To know that he cared enough to hope for the tiniest shred of familiarity from Rose was an odd balm to old wounds. Because it wasn't just anger for herself and the way he'd hurt her that she'd carried for so long. He'd also robbed Rose of so much. Things that Draco was bending over backwards to try and replace.
"Maybe she will. That's for her to decide though."
He turned and placed his hand on the doorknob, intent to step outside. He paused again. "I should probably tell you—I'm going to be helping George at his shop. If you ever want to bring her by to see him, just send an owl and I'll step out." He shook his head. "I don't want to hurt either of you anymore than I already have, Hermione."
She wasn't expecting the rush of emotion that burst inside her chest. She'd bottled it for so long. Draco was a balm. Loving him and letting him in healed so much of her but old pain was like a ratty blanket. It was familiar and easy to shove off into a corner. The second one remembered it though, the nostalgia of the emotion came rushing back. She'd wanted him to know that he'd hurt her. Someone he'd once considered a friend. Even if her emotional scars no longer ran so deep. Even if Draco's love filled the holes and smoothed the edges. She needed to hear it.
"Oh fuck," he muttered worriedly when the first tears came. He shifted his weight as if he was going to reach for her and then thought better of it. "Merlin, Hermione, I really am sorry. I didn't—Harry's going to murder me if he knows I made you cry."
She forced the emotion down again and shook her head, waving him off with one hand while the other reached to brush away the few tears that broke free.
"No. No, I'm fine. It's just—" She lifted her eyes and met his. Saw the worry. Saw the doubt. He was going to have his own battles to fight. Hers was done now. "I just didn't realize how much I needed to hear you acknowledge that. Not just apologize. Not just realize that you made a mess of things. You hurt me. And Rose. I guess…I just needed to hear that."
He huffed out a small laugh. "Yeah, my first go at an apology was rubbish. I've never been very good at them."
She offered him a weak smile. "Not really. Good to see you still know how to find your way to a proper one eventually though. Thank you." She shifted her weight a little as they stared at one another. Years and years stood between them. It was a strange loss. She'd thought herself so in love with him once upon a time. How wrong she'd been. "Harry says you're getting married. That she accepted your proposal."
His eyes widened and he blinked. "Oh, I—well, yeah."
Hermione nodded and she meant it when she said, "Good for you, Ron."
He squinted at her, his mouth pulling in an uncertain smile. "You're not upset?"
A surprised laugh left her. "Merlin, no! Why in the world would I be upset? I'm married, Ron. And very happy." She lifted her shoulders. "The issue of Rose won't be sorted for a very long time, I'm afraid. However, I've moved on. You need to as well."
And it was true. There would always be a memory of bitterness and anger towards him but Draco had filled up so much of heart that she had little room left to worry about Ron Weasley. Her worries were only for Rose now and that was something she knew would be a long road to navigate now that he was settling back in England.
His eyes flickered to his shoes before he found hers again. "Nothing turned out quite like we expected, did it?"
The sadness that used to be there when she thought that same thing was nowhere to be found. "No."
"Well you tell Rose for me…when she's ready to hear it…that I'm sorry? That I know I hurt her and her mum. And maybe one day, she might want to hear it come from me instead."
She nodded even as she feared another wave of tears. "When she's ready."
She braced herself in case he asked what she thought she could see in his eyes. Could they ever be friends again? Could she ever not look at him and and think of what he did? The damage was done though. She didn't think there would ever be any way for them to find that bond again. He'd be lucky to get Harry to come around as it was. No, if they could settle into this sort of in-between, a place that lacked anger and pain, then she could live with that. He would have to as well.
Thankfully, he gave her another Christmas gift and didn't utter another word. He nodded before he slipped outside to find his parents.
Hermione returned to the family room and sank onto the sofa with Rose. She wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead.
"Alright then?"
She nodded. "Is he coming back?"
When she heard Molly and Arthur's voices coming towards them and the crack of someone disapparating, she shook her head.
"No, just your grandparents. He didn't want to upset you."
Rose blinked at her. Those blue eyes—his eyes—stared up at her. She would love the piece of him that he'd given her in the form of her daughter, for that alone she could never truly hate him.
"Oh," she said. "That was nice of him."
Hermione smiled. "It was."
She watched as Rose tapped her fingers on the box in her lap. There was something on her mind. Something else she wanted to say but she and her daughter were alike in so many things. She might have Ron's eyes. She may have gotten a bit of red in her hair from him, too. But she was definitely hers. When things turned serious, she got quiet as she tried to sort through her thoughts.
"Will you be friends again?" She asked.
"Probably not but that's okay."
Rose finally shrugged and kicked her feet. "You have lots of friends though. And daddy."
"You're right. I do."
Their conversation paused when Molly and Arthur arrived. Hermione noted the ease with which Rose slipped off the sofa and gave them each a hug before passing off her gift. It was a change from the past. Not even that long ago when she hinted at discomfort during these visits. There may never be a place for Ron in Rose's life but if Hermione could make this part better, that was worth something.
6:00pm
Draco was waiting when they emerged from the floo. Rose greeted him with a rushed 'hi, dad' before making her way to the kitchen for dinner. He approached her hesitantly, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets.
"What's that look?"
Hermione released a breathy laugh. "It's—nothing really. Ron was there when we arrived." She lifted her hands when she saw him stiffen. "No—no. It was okay. He actually said a lot of things that I've needed to hear him say. And he gave me a proper apology."
It was clear he wasn't convinced as he narrowed his eyes and she couldn't help but smile. She pressed her fingertips to his chest and leaned up on her toes to kiss him.
"I promise, Draco. It was fine. He left nearly immediately after he went to find Molly and Arthur—they were in the garden. And most of all, Rose was fine."
He drew a measured breath before dipping his head in a sharp nod. "Alright."
She watched him as he followed Rose's path to the kitchen. It would take more time to get used to but it was nice to have someone worry over her so much. To know that when she came home after a rough day, she wasn't alone to calm her frayed edges.
She smiled to herself as she followed after them.
25 December, 2007: 1:00am
He couldn't sleep.
They'd been in bed for a few hours and she'd fallen asleep almost as quickly as she laid her head against his shoulder. However, he was wide awake. He watched her for a while. The gentle rise and fall of her shoulders with each breath. The way her lips parted in her sleep and her fingers curled against his chest.
He was near to bursting with his love for her. It was something so foreign to him before but he'd thrown himself headlong into the emotion. It went against everything his father ever taught him so it had to be right.
Lucius Malfoy had taught him to be protective of nothing but his own flesh. He'd shown him how to walk over anyone that got in his path and use whatever means necessary to get his way. He could have continued down that path, jagged and dark as it was. It would have been easy to lose himself to his father's greed.
People like Hermione changed things. One small witch and her idiot best friends fighting against literally all odds to make a change. And they'd succeeded. In a way, they'd change him, too. For anyone with half a heart, it would have been impossible to fight against after watching her scream and writhe but still coming out on the other side under his aunt's twisted rage.
He hadn't thought about that night in some time. Tried his best to block it out. But with her pressed so close to him in her sleep, at her most vulnerable, he couldn't help but marvel at the reality of his life.
Draco wasn't sure what fork in the road or decision he made that changed his path but he wasn't too keen to dwell on it. Perhaps one day he'd accept this. Perhaps one day in the quiet hours of the night, even with her now as his wife and tucked next to him, he wouldn't fall into the darker parts of his mind, questioning what he deserved and why had the universe seen fit for it to be her.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he carefully disentangled them. She rolled to her stomach and wrapped herself around his pillow. One thing he'd learned in the weeks they'd been married was that she was a bedding hog. It was in his favor to let her sleep on him as much as she liked. Otherwise, he'd find himself without covers and relying on a warming charm.
Draco set his feet on the floor, wincing at first from the cold wood. He reached for his wand from the nightstand. He cast a quiet levitation charm and watched as the gifts stacked near the door rose in the air. He guided them out of their room, down the hall, and to the stairs.
He'd not spent a lot of time in the chateau during his years living in France. It had seemed too formal of an arrangement given that he'd not been moving towards marriage with Astoria. Something about sharing these walls with her had always seemed sort of out of place. Like betrayal.
When they first arrived by portkey, Rose had wobbled on her feet. Hermione had failed to warn him that it was her first experience with that particular means of travel. It didn't take her long before she steadied herself and she spent the first half hour going room to room, in awe over the place. Hermione followed her and though she might've tried to hide it, she was a little in awe as well.
He enjoyed watching them. Their enthusiasm wasn't rooted in greed but appreciation. He had no true sense of what the early years were like for Hermione but he could imagine. This degree of opulence and privilege wasn't something she was familiar with and in some way humbled him even more.
Once downstairs, he guided the wrapped gifts under the tree, arranging them just so, and plucked two unwrapped items from the stack. He nearly jumped when he heard the soft sounds of bare feet padding along the floor and turned from his crouched position in front of the tree. She yawned while standing in the doorway, raking her fingers through her curls. She looked beautiful framed by the window, the moonlight and the snow falling outside the window at her side.
"Draco, love, why are you awake?"
He swallowed. She didn't really use pet names with him. Was that how she thought of him in her head, before the words were filtered as they left her lips? She was too tired to notice now and he wasn't going to point it out.
"I was just setting out the two things you told me were meant to be from that Santa chap."
She gave a tired laugh and shook her head. She crossed the room and folded herself into a ball behind him on the sofa. "Yes, but I meant we'd just get up a bit early to do it. You didn't need to do it now. And certainly not by yourself."
"Oh." He turned back to the new broom and set of books. "Did I mess this up? You can move them around if they're not how you like. I—"
She cut him off as she slid her arms around his neck, pressing her hands over his heart before she leaned over to kiss his cheek.
"No. It's perfect."
He allowed her to tug him backward until he was leaning against the sofa, her hands tracing patterns along his shoulders.
"I've never had a true family Christmas before," he admitted. He kept his eyes on the flames dancing in the fireplace. He didn't want to see the inevitable pity in her eyes. He could tolerate it from her. It just didn't make the feeling any better.
Hermione leaned forward and he felt her breath at his ear. "I'm sorry, Draco."
He closed his eyes and leaned into her warmth behind him. "When I was growing up, the holidays were a very stiff affair. Mother tried of course. She had the elves set out biscuits first thing in the morning. But I had to wear formal dress robes for dinner." He sighed when she squeezed his shoulders gently. "And even though I was given an absurd number of gifts and I know I was a right little git for boasting about them at school, it felt empty. Even then I knew it didn't feel right. Because my mother would offer a plastic smile while my father rattled off the cost of each one so I would know just how disgustingly wealthy we were."
He'd not realized he'd started crying until the first tear leaked past his lashes and he felt her fingertips brush it away.
"What was it like after?"
He lifted his shoulders under her hold and squeezed his eyes tighter, no matter that it only forced more tears free. "Mother insisted I come home for the holidays and for the first couple Astoria joined us for dinner." Her name tasted like ash on his tongue and he felt guilty just for uttering it in front of his new wife. She pressed her lips to his cheek though, not minding the wet trail there, and he continued. "It was just as empty if not somehow worse."
He forced down a sob when one of her hands made a new path and massaged in a loop that passed over his chest and over his heart. He reached up and caught her fingers, squeezing them gently.
"I didn't realize holidays could be like this. I mean, I'd heard but I'd never experienced it."
Hermione rested her chin on his shoulder. "And so you woke at this absurd hour because you want to make sure she has the best Christmas."
He nodded. "Is it terrible if I admit that it's a little for myself as well? I want to experience that joy, from whatever perspective that I can."
He felt her sigh more than he heard it. "Not terrible. Not at all."
Draco opened his eyes finally and blinked away the remnants of tears. Just when he thought he'd bled himself off all of the pain from his past, something new lurked at the next corner. Some other things he'd not exorcised from himself before she came into his life. He'd be mortified if anyone else but her saw him like this.
"Will you come back to bed with me?" She asked.
He titled his head to catch her eyes. "Is that bloody cat in our bed again?"
She laughed. "No, I have her in the bathroom until it's time to give her to Rose. I made her a little bed in the bathtub and she seemed content when I left her."
"You gave that monster our good towels?" He didn't actually hate the furball. It just felt like he needed to shift the mood, to return to his usual self now that he'd bared one more piece of himself to her.
Hermione rolled her eyes as she pushed off the sofa and reached out for him. He gave her his hands without hesitation though he pushed himself up. He highly doubted she could lift his weight without a levitation charm.
"She's not a monster. She's very sweet. Much sweeter than Crookshanks." She arched a brow. "Rose told me what you said about him by the way. If you were out of bed that late, you probably deserved the bite. He was a very good judge of character."
"Oh Merlin, not this rubbish."
25 December, 2007: 6:15am
Coherent thought had long been driven from Draco's mind. He didn't notice the slight purple of the sky beyond their bedroom windows as the sun began to rise. He didn't notice the time on the muggle alarm clark she'd brought with them. He didn't hear the creak of the bed springs beneath them. The only thing he noticed was her.
He'd woken with her on his chest. It had been pitch black outside and the entire house was quiet except for the sound of her beginning to wake. She pressed her lips to his chest first, a chaste little press of skin. However, her knee nudged him gently and she felt his morning arousal. The next kiss was less chaste, teased with a hint of tongue tracing his most prominent scar. The hand on his stomach began to migrate before she palmed him through his pants.
"Don't tease, you siren," he recalled groaning.
After that, she'd let him go but not before lifting the warm jumper from her body, tossing it somewhere across the room in the dark, and shimmying out of her knickers before they too were flung off into the distance.
She seemed quite happy that one of his favorite positions, outside of the traditional missionary which with her never got old, happened to be having her on top of him. And that's where she was right now. Grinding and thrusting her way to the perfect Christmas morning climax.
Draco's hands trailed streaks of fire over her skin—her thighs, hips, waist, and breasts. Her hands were a steady pressure against his chest as she used him for leverage, rolling her hips in a hypnotic rhythm that threatened to drive the last of his sanity from his mind. This woman, this perfect witch, his wife making those little gasps and groans he savored. Sounds that he heard in his dreams. The sort that had made him wake up in the predicament that he did. Thankfully, she was there to handle the problem.
"You're close," he told her, gritting his teeth as he focused on holding back.
Quidditch. Quaffles. Snitches. Grass. Potter's stupid glasses.
None of the distractions helped. He was too far gone and she looked far too amazing hovering over him, her hair swaying about her shoulders. He was going to have to help her along or he'd finish first and he'd promised himself from their wedding night on that he would never do that. He could have pleasure only after she did. That was his silent rule.
Hermione gasped when she felt one of his hands migrate from her hips and pressed between her legs.
"F-fuck!" She groaned.
He would have smirked if he wasn't so taut with pleasure. It was her favorite word during sex. He couldn't really recall her uttering it any other time honestly.
One more stroke and another press of his fingers and she went rigid over him. Draco was in heaven, whatever that was, as her back bowed and she dug her nails into his chest. He bit down on his lip. It fucking hurt but the pain was only a fraction of his thoughts as he came hurtling to the finish behind her.
Hermione collapsed against his chest, warm and sated, her breath coming out in puffs mingling with the cold air in their room. He fumbled for his wand on the nightstand and managed to cast a fire in the fireplace. No doubt the chill would catch up with them soon.
She whimpered a little as he dragged his fingers through her hair, his other hand stroking up and down her spine before he pressed a kiss to her forehead just under his chin.
"If that was my Christmas present, you've surely outdone yourself," he said once regained his ability for speech.
She huffed and managed a halfhearted smack to his shoulder. "What makes you think that was for you?" She asked.
Draco chuckled as she sat up again. She was always so soft and warm afterwards. He cast a quick cleaning charm on them both, knowing full and well she would still want a shower.
"Cheeky witch."
She rolled off him and laid at his side. He turned his head on their pillows and watched her while she tried to catch her breath, her eyes closed and her expression lax.
"That was quite good though, wasn't it?" She said after a moment.
He snorted and rolled to his side. He leaned over her and stole a soft kiss. "Good is an understatement."
She smiled to herself, looking like a contented cat. "This was the nicest way I've started my Christmas morning in a very long time."
"Hmm," he hummed as he leaned down to taste her neck, "I would have to agree. I'm sad we have to get up."
She sighed at the reminder and pressed her hands to his chest. He rolled back with the gentle push, watching as she sat up in bed. He felt her shiver as he ghosted his fingertips over her spine. Looks alone would have never captured him but there was no denying how beautiful she was. A complete package of brains and beauty.
"I need a haircut soon," she said, sighing again as she gathered her curls over one shoulder.
Draco shrugged as he sat up. He pushed to his knees and sat behind her. "Only if you want one. I like your hair this length as well."
Hermione reached around and cupped his chin, guiding his lips to hers for a soft kiss. If there was ever a time to be leisurely in bed, besides their honeymoon of course, it surely had to be a holiday.
"What's the time?" She asked.
"Half six."
She pushed out of bed and it took him a few seconds before he followed her, too busy admiring her body and the fact that more of her self-consciousness had bled away over the last month sleeping in one bed, frequently shedding their clothes at some point in the night.
There was not another round in the shower when she allowed him to step in with her but plenty of affectionate touching. After he batted her hands away to take over washing and conditioning her hair, she turned in his arms and simply stood with him under the spray, her fingertips digging into his shoulders.
"I didn't think I could ever have this," she said, her words spoken so softly he nearly didn't hear.
Draco's heart pounded behind his ribs. "The new may wear off eventually but I'll welcome the comfort of time, too."
She lifted on her toes to kiss him and then resumed their shower. She urged him to brush his teeth and wash his face first while she sat to the side running a towel carefully over her hair.
"It's a very careful process to keep my hair under control. It took me years to master this."
He snorted as he watched her through the mirror. "Instinct tells me to make some quip but I think I'll take the holiday off."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You do that."
Hermione was aware of the way he watched her once he was finished. He'd redressed in comfortable pajama bottoms that her mother had gifted them all to wear on Christmas morning. Matching ones for Merlin's sake. She bit her tongue when he held them in front of him last night, hoping and praying he would do this for her mother. Because even when he did wear pajamas at home in London, they were plain colors, usually black or grey, and certainly never with little penguins dressed in scarves printed all over them.
But she should have known by now that Draco was full of surprises and instead of some quip, he kissed her mother's cheek like the perfect son-in-law he was clearly trying to be and thanked her. Now he sat behind her wearing them with a white t-shirt that was too snug around the arms. She'd never admit to him that she intentionally bought the wrong size when he asked her to pick him up some new ones a week before. She was his wife. It was perfectly acceptable for her to ogle him a bit when she wanted.
However, at the current moment, she very much felt like the one being ogled. His eyes strayed to her arse every time she leaned over the counter. His eyes traced her while she washed her face and rubbed in her moisturizer.
"You know, you're the only man I think I've ever met that openly engages in skincare," she said, drawing his eyes back to her face as she turned to face him. Those grey eyes were terribly dark and they slipped from her face before quickly returning. Bugger. She'd forgotten to grab a bra.
"I don't see why others don't. I'd rather not look like dragonhide by the time I'm fifty. I'm not a muggle. Why should I age like one?"
His cheeks pinked after he uttered the statement and she snorted, hoping to assuage his fear that he'd said something offensive.
"Fair point. Perhaps you can have a talk with Harry then. Ginny's been at him for ages. The man uses a bar of soap to wash his face."
Draco blanched and stood when she made for the door. "That's just barbaric."
She laughed. "And we agree with you. It's not posh to take some care with your skin."
"I hardly think it is and even if it were, so what?"
Draco overtook her in the hall and led the way to the room she'd chosen as their family room downstairs. In truth, she'd not had enough time to really explore their home outside of Paris but what she'd seen so far had been lovely. It brought back early childhood fantasies of living in a fantasy world—reality not being terribly far off. There were moments still when this didn't feel like her life and she was only playing understudy to the true lead. But then he would kiss her and bring reality back into focus. This was real. And so was he.
"Theo got a hold of this a few years ago to redecorate," he'd told her when they arrived. "I was living in a flat in the city and mother insisted the place be spruced up for the future." He'd grinned then. "Good thing he never listened to a word you-know-who said about the decor. They bickered like cats and dogs about it."
Good thing indeed. She didn't consider herself jealous of his past with Astoria, except that she'd had him for longer. But that was only temporary. He was permanently hers now. Eventually their time together would well surpass the drop in the bucket that was the past. All that aside, she still wouldn't relish staying somewhere the abusive witch had decorated.
They were first to arrive in the family room and after Pipsy insisted on making them steaming cups of coffee, they settled onto the sofa together to wait for Rose and her mother to wake.
Hermione bumped his shoulder as she sipped her coffee. "You're looking quite smug."
Draco flicked his hand towards the tree where a hoard of gifts sat waiting. "I think I did quite well setting everything out."
She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. "You did wonderfully." Her eyes strayed to the small table beside the ginormous tree that was twinkling in the grey morning light. "Oh no," she muttered, pressing her cup of coffee into his hand and springing from the sofa.
"What in Merlin's name…"
Hermione hurried back to him and quickly shoved one of the frosted biscuits in his mouth. "You eat faster than me. Eat the bloody thing!"
Draco's brows furrowed but he did as she ordered. He washed the biscuit down with his coffee.
"What was that about?"
She leaned around him to peer past the doorway. There were hurried footsteps nearing them and she could hear Rose's gleeful singing while her mother chuckled.
"We set them out for Santa, remember?" She eyed him meaningfully. "She'd be terribly offended if the man didn't eat one."
"Ah," he nodded as if he understood but she had a feeling he was still mildly confused.
Hermione set her coffee aside just as Rose bounded into the room and she caught her. "Happy Christmas, darling," she said, kneeling to embrace her fully.
Rose hugged her tight, already bouncing with excitement. "Happy Christmas, mummy!"
She pulled back to see her face and brushed a few flyaway curls back. "Did you sleep well in your room?"
She nodded and it was hard not to smile as her eyes darted briefly to the tree. "Pipsy made my room extra warm."
Behind her, Draco sat patiently but she could almost feel his own excitement. He wanted to let the child free into the pile of presents. She wondered if this, too, would be novel for him.
"Oh, let the girl after them," Mrs. Granger said, accepting a cup of coffee from Pipsy with a smile and a warm thanks.
She rolled her eyes. "Alright. You know what to do. But hug your dad first."
It still felt sort of strange saying that but she saw how happy it made him each time. It was a thrill for her as well giving Rose something she'd always felt like she couldn't.
She scooted to lean against the foot of the sofa. Rose dodged around her and quickly hugged Draco good morning. After she darted off, she felt his free hand reach down and tangle in her curls.
"Santa brought me a broom!" Rose squealed, naturally happening upon the two unwrapped gifts from 'Santa' first.
Draco leaned down and whispered, "Tell me again why this Santa bloke is so lazy that he doesn't wrap his gifts?"
"Because mummy always wraps her gifts and I decided ages ago that Santa isn't getting credit for the things I worked my arse off to buy for my own child," she quipped.
"Ah. Fair enough."
She listened to him laugh over Rose's excitement and smiled at the look of pure glee when he promised to take her outside before their Christmas dinner and give her a first lesson. The flutter of warmth in her chest only increased when she chanced a look in her mother's direction. Mrs. Granger was watching them, smiling behind her coffee cup.
"You're happy?" she mouthed to her silently.
Hermione could only nod. For once, she didn't really have the words for what she was feeling but it was certainly in the same category as happy.
After getting over the excitement of the broom and the books, Rose began to pass out the gifts.
"It's tradition," Hermione told him as he sank to the floor with her finally. "I did it when I was growing up."
Rose pushed her way around the room, sliding gifts in all directions until each person had a small pile. She frowned when there were three left under the tree and she looked around the room again.
"Where's grandma?"
Hermione squinted. "Sweetheart, gran's right there."
She shook her head stubbornly. "No. Daddy's mum. That's what she said I could call her when I asked. I already have a gran and a nan. And she said when you have a baby that's what it will call her."
"Oh." Hermione glanced at Draco.
He held his hands up. "I didn't know they'd had that talk." He flipped his wrist to check the time. "She should be here any minute actually."
"Well, then we'll wait," Mrs. Granger announced with a firm nod.
Narcissa showed up just as Rose's patience began to wane—a whole five minutes. She swept into the room in a set of emerald green robes.
"I hope I'm not late. The international portkey took longer than I anticipated." Her eyes surveyed the room before she arched a brow in Draco's direction. "I appear to be overdressed."
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs before she waved her off. "Nonsense. My mother, Rose, and I have always been a little informal. Draco should have warned you."
It was clear he was biting back a sneer. "My apologies, mother. Will you please sit? Rose was handing out presents and it's time to open them."
Narcissa reached into a pocket in her robes and lifted a tiny bundle in her palm. She flicked her wand at it and it grew in size. She guided three of the presents to Rose's pile and then one each to Hermione and Draco before she took a seat in one of the empty armchairs adjacent to Hermione's mother. She smiled kindly.
"Thank you, dear."
The family room was quickly a mess of ribbons and paper. Narcissa had gifted Hermione a book on rare charm work. Her mother had gave him new cufflinks because, in her words, "he's always so well-dressed so I'm sure he'll use them." And Rose was drowning in books, new pajamas, and puzzle games. And she wasn't quite done opening thing either.
When Rose reached the last present which was from Narcissa Hermione nudged him gently. "The box. The one in our bathroom." She arched a brow pointedly.
He nodded and pushed to his feet, leaving the room without a word. No one else noticed at first, too engrossed with unwrapping gifts the last of their gifts. Rose tossed the paper aside on her last one, a beginner's potion set that reminded Hermione of a child's chemistry set, from Narcissa.
"I know that you and Draco are both quite skilled with potions. It's never too early to build a foundation and I've gathered she's much like yourself—lots of intellectual interests," Narcissa said with a prim smile. It was clear she was proud of her choice.
Rose looked up from the box, wide-eyed. "There's a babbling potion?"
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her expression. It's not like she ever brewed the more frivolous things that children found entertaining.
"I wouldn't advise testing it on yourself."
She nodded as she placed it with the rest of her gifts. "Thank you, grandma. I'll use it on Teddy. He'll make a good test subject."
Narcissa lifted her brows. "I take it you're not terribly fond of Teddy."
Rose wrinkled her nose. "He's a boy!"
Hermione sighed. "They're two years apart and it's just enough for them to annoy one another. Though I will argue, I think she's more annoyed by him than the other way around."
"That's children for you," Mrs. Granger said.
"Indeed," Narcissa nodded. "Draco and his friend Pansy used to spend more time arguing growing up than they did playing." She looked around suddenly. "Speaking of Draco, where has he slipped off to?"
"I'm here," he said.
Hermione bit down on her lip as he held a large box out in front of him. The lid had an humongous bow on it but he'd chosen it himself before fixing it to the shiny, metallic box.
"Your mum and I have one last present for you, Rose," she said.
Rose's eyes followed the box as Draco sat it down in front of her carefully. She looked simultaneously confused and intrigued. "But I've already gotten so much."
She couldn't help but smile to herself. Knowing that she wasn't raising a greedy child was a relief. Rose had always been thankful for any presents, especially when they were fewer in the early days and she was so little, and she'd already thanked her mother and Narcissa twice each for theirs.
Draco eased himself back to the floor next to Hermione and smirked. "This one is special and we couldn't help ourselves."
Hermione was torn as to who to watch more, her daughter or Draco. So many of these family experiences were foreign to him and she meant to indoctrinate him in the best way possible. And of course, Rose was eight so everything was exciting to her. From the corner of her eyes, she saw her mother lift her camera expectantly, somehow always knowing when there was going to be a moment Hermione wanted to capture for later.
Rose lifted the lid carefully and peeked inside at first. The squeal she let out could have stunned a Cornish pixie.
"Goodness," Narcissa laughed, pressing a hand to her chest.
"It's the cat!" Rose said, nearly diving entirely inside the large box to retrieve it. The little black half-kneazle gave a small squeak when she pulled it into her arms.
"Gentle, Rose," Hermione reminded her.
"Oh, she's been wanting one for so long," Mrs. Granger said, reaching out to scratch the cat behind the ears. "It reminds me of your Crookshanks, Hermione."
Draco sighed but she saw the edge of a smile that he was hiding. "Well, now there's no going back now. That furry monstrosity really is going to be living with us."
She smacked his arm lightly and he finally allowed his smile to break through a tiny bit. "What do you want to call her, sweetheart?"
Rose squinted at the cat in her arms. It was patient and just stared at her—definitely a half kneazle. "I'll call her Nyx."
"Nyx?" Draco asked.
Hermione nodded. "It's from muggle mythology."
He snorted. "Of course. I'd expect nothing else from either of my two bookworms."
She looped her arm through his and leaned against his shoulder while she watched Rose tease her new cat with a bit of ribbon from the present wrapping. Narcissa and her mother fell into easy conversation. It was a relief that they got along so well.
"And how was your Christmas, Draco?"
His eyes swiveled in her direction. "The best I've ever had." He turned his head and kissed her cheek. "I like seeing you both so happy."
She sighed, warm contentment sprouting in her chest and spreading through her limbs. "That goes both ways."
Hermione had long vanished the remainder of the wrapping paper and ribbons when her mother announced their need to complete their next family tradition. Draco and Narcissa both looked confused at this announcement.
"Before you get lost in that game, Rose, you know the routine," Mrs. Granger said, waving her towards the sofa.
"We take a Christmas photo every year," Hermione explained to them.
Narcissa nodded and straightened her robes before she moved to take a seat next to Draco. "Some traditions are meant to be kept. I can't say I've ever had my photo taken by a muggle camera." She glanced at Draco. "There's a first time for everything, I suppose."
Hermione pulled Rose into her lap as always, kissing her cheek as she wrapped her arms around her. She watched as her mother fussed with the muggle camera on the tripod she'd brought before hurrying to sit next to her.
"Are you having a good Christmas?" Hermione whispered to Rose.
Rose leaned her head back and flashed her a quick grin as Mrs. Granger began counting down for the timer.
"The best, mum. I love you."
There would come a day, not that far off really, when for most of the year she would only get to hear those words in her head as she read her letters. She didn't want to think about that just yet.
"I love you, too."
Rose called to her new cat and she jumped into her lap in time for the flash. Another year. Another picture. A new family.
26 December, 2007: 10:00am
Hermione leaned against a column, one hand tucked under her arm for warmth while the other lifted a steaming cup of hot chocolate to her lips. Rose's new cat circled around her ankles before sitting on top of her right foot. She watched as he took Rose under the arms and set her carefully on the broom hovering about three feet off the ground. Her heart was in her throat, beating an erratic rhythm.
It was one part anxiety over watching her child take to what she considered a dangerous and unnecessary form of magical travel, and one part overwhelming attraction and love for the man trying to teach her daughter something. She could still remember her own dad teaching her to ride a bike. The endless hours of him running alongside the thing, her screaming for him not to let go. He never gave up. He was patient the entire time until his nervous daughter finally learned it was going to be okay.
"Merlin, if that isn't enough to get you pregnant again, I don't know what is."
Hermione jumped at the sound of Ginny's voice. She whirled around and nudged her shoulder gently. "Oh, stop it. Did you just arrive then? Where's Harry?"
Ginny's eyes roved over the garden. It was huge in comparison to the townhouse in London. There was plenty of greenery to break Rose's fall if she fell off the thing. It still didn't assuage Hermione's anxiety.
"A few minutes ago. Your mum said you lot were out here. She's bonding with your mother-in-law—quite the sight really. They's discussing proper shrubbery. Sounds dull to me. Harry's nicking sweets with James inside." She flicked a hand toward the scene in front of them. "I know you, Hermione. Watching that probably has you planning the man's next seduction. Not that I could blame you. I get the same way watching Harry play with James. Though we'll probably fight over who gets to teach him to fly."
She lifted her drink to her lips for another sip, a moment of distraction. "It was rule number one whenever I considered dating. The man absolutely had to be good with Rose. I just—I never expected I'd find someone so willing and interested in being a full on father, as if she didn't get half of her genes with another man. And that was if I ever thought of dating at all."
Ginny smiled as a cup of hot chocolate sailed gracefully through the air from the back doors and levitated in front of her. She grabbed it and quickly took a sip.
"Pipsy is quite the character, isn't she?" She grinned and gestured with her mug. "But yes, I know. In some ways, it seems absurd that it would have been Draco Malfoy but then again, perhaps that's the charm in it."
They both flinched when Rose lost her balance and slipped from her broom. Draco seemed to have anticipated it and rushed forward to catch her from the air before any tears could fall. Instead, she giggled happily and requested he put her right back on it.
"Mummy, look!"
Hermione's eyes snapped forward in time to watch Rose do a shaky barrel roll with Draco hovering carefully under her the entire time, wand draw to cast a cushioning charm should he not catch her. She'd said no tricks. Just basic flying principles.
"Draco!" She hissed, her brows raised pointedly.
He shrugged his shoulders, lifting his hands at his sides. "What? She's a natural! You can't deny natural talent, Hermione!" He shouted back.
Hermione lifted her free hand and pinched the bridge of her nose as she drew a careful breath. "One minute I'm overwhelmed with how much I love him and the next I want to hex him."
Ginny burst into laughter. "Well, that's marriage for you!"
Many thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated. :)