Measure Of A Man

by inadaze22

To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man.

26. Human Nature

Twenty Six
Human Nature

August 10, 2011

Chaos wasn't just a theory.

It was the inevitable result of the unexpected.

A little disorder wasn't negative, but like anything else, it had its time and place.

If life had taught Hermione one lesson, it was that chaos often gave birth to a new direction.

Typically thriving on the precarious balance between organised chaos, comfort, and absolute order, she'd been stuck in the trenches of mayhem, in a constant state of flux all week and it was hard to see anything else.

Pouring all of her energy into several different cups, she currently had little to spare.

Developing Narcissa's new care plan. Rare plant cultivation lessons with Neville. Scheduled translation work with Draco. Maintaining her delicate daily routine with Scorpius. Coordinating Sachs and Keating. Their dynamic had been altered by Andromeda's presence, but it actually made Hermione's life easier because she took over preparing Narcissa's meals.

A small climb on the mountain before her.

Sleep had been cut short in favour of garden maintenance, planting, seeding, and harvesting to prevent the fruit from over ripening. Progress on the potion, with the question of Draco's participation hanging over her head, took hold of her thoughts periodically throughout the day. Research and transcontinental Floo calls with Charles Smith occurred between check-ins with Narcissa, lunch, and sign language lessons. Her evenings were split between scheduled time with law interpretation, thinking about her inevitable talk with Kingsley—given the chaos at the Ministry in the wake of the article—reviewing Narcissa's readings, and sorting notes from Sachs and Keating.

Observation would have been easier had Narcissa been speaking in more than monosyllables.

At least to her.

Still, Hermione built her plan, diving deep late that afternoon and only resurfacing when the thirty page package was complete and checked off her to-do list.

Only then did she truly realise what havoc her sharp spiral of chaos had wreaked on her office.

Oh.

Before Hermione could clear the parchment and teacups, wave away the ink stains from her hands, and dust the crumbs of crisps off her shirt, out stepped a surprise from her Floo.

Draco and Scorpius.

Both were dressed comfortably: Scorpius for bed and Draco in his usual joggers and a shirt. Black, of course.

"Um."

The little boy ignored the mess and made a beeline to her while his father looked around slowly, not bothering to hide his judgment. Or was it concern? Hard to tell. The bag in Draco's hand sparked her curiosity but her brain was too exhausted for it to catch fire.

"Hi there."

Instead of scowling when Draco's frown became more pronounced at the state of her desk, Hermione chose to focus on Scorpius, opening her arms for a hug after he waved with a shy, infectious smile that spread to her quickly. She was happy to see him.

A little peace in the chaos.

"This is quite the welcomed surprise." Running an absent hand over his fringe, Hermione placed a hand on his back and that seemed to still him.

Draco's eyes raked over everything in an attempt to find a clearing. Then he gave up and placed the bag in the only semi-clear spot in the room: the chair. Arms now behind his back, he completed a visual sweep of her. Hermione almost cringed.

Wild hair. Tired eyes. Ink stained hands. Oversized, wrinkled shirt marred by a stain she could have cleaned with magic but hadn't bothered.

She likely looked just as chaotic as her surroundings.

But like the proud person she was, Hermione straightened her back, ignoring the tightness in it from the amount of time she'd spent in that position.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of the visit, Draco?"

"You forgot about dinner." Draco extracted his wand from his pocket, pointing it at the pile of discarded parchment circling the rubbish bin.

She was a terrible shot.

"I could send over Zippy in the morning." A silent spell cleared her misses and left her bin full to the brim. "Might give him something to do. He often asks for more tasks."

Not surprising.

"No thanks." Hermione didn't like the idea of a house-elf cleaning her home, no matter how handsomely paid. "As for our dinner, it's on Wednesday."

"Today is Wednesday."

She opened her mouth to debate when she caught Scorpius' expectant eyes.

"Is it?"

They both nodded, but Draco tilted his head as if she'd asked a moronic question.

Shite.

Hermione searched for her Magi-Scheduler, finding it only after rifling through several piles of scrap parchments, documents, and books, and nearly spilling a full inkwell. A high stack of papers began to teeter but Draco's quick hand stabilised it. He scanned her messy desk again, and Scorpius did as well. The latter squinted at both the open bag of crisps and the oddly-shaped ink stain on a discarded piece of parchment.

She could feel the five-year-old's judgment.

Sweeping the offending items into the drawer, she made a mental note to clean it out later. She pointedly ignored the way Draco coughed and looked away to suppress his amusement. He also ignored her following glare.

When she turned to Scorpius, he… just looked happy to be in her presence.

Too cute for a glare, her smile grew slowly, creeping its way to a full grin.

"It's a bit messy here, isn't it?"

I help clean.

Scorpius signed each word slowly, and when he finished, she felt a swell of pride.

"You're such a great helper, but this is a mess I'll clean. Thank you for offering."

His ears turned pink.

Finally, Hermione scanned the Magi-Scheduler.

Today's date pulsed red, standing out against the black and white page.

Wednesday.

"Oh." She offered the smaller Malfoy an embarrassed smile, uselessly patting her wild hair and rubbing the back of her sore neck.

Hermione frowned at her watch. What could she make on such short notice?

As if answering her unspoken question, both father and son exchanged a similar look that would have been funny had she not been scrambling for meal ideas.

"I think I have enough to quickly make—"

"That won't be necessary."

Draco gave his son a nod, a cue that brought the little boy from her side to his. Scorpius picked up the bag, proudly displaying it with a dimpling smile as though it were a grand prize.

"Is it—"

"Dinner." The word was firm but Draco's tone was not. "You should clean up. We'll be in the conservatory."

With that, Draco and the bag-wielding Scorpius left the room. His hand awkwardly rested on top of his son's head in an affectionate gesture as he let the little boy lead the way.

The sight made her smile into her fist.

When they were gone, she stood, stretching her sore muscles, turning her neck from side to side, and listening to the stiff cracks. After rubbing her shoulders, Hermione picked up her wand and did as instructed, Apparating to her room for a quick shower. Just shy of too hot, it left her body invigorated and her brain the opposite.

When Hermione returned to the kitchen in lounge clothes and wet hair, Draco was opening and closing drawers in search of something he found just as she leaned against the side of the island.

Cutlery.

Scorpius returned from the conservatory, hand already extended for the forks that Draco offered.

Helping, as he was wont to do.

"Careful," Hermione called after the little boy's retreating form, earning her a glance and nod over his shoulder.

Scorpius returned not a minute later, walking past them and up the stairs, likely to wash his hands without anyone asking him to. It was a habit. She summoned two wine glasses and a third cup for Scorpius before turning her attention to the man eyeing her wine chiller.

"Thank you for this." She felt irrationally awkward for doing something as simple as vocalising her appreciation. "You didn't have to."

"It was already—"

"Scheduled, I know, but I can—"

"Handle it yourself?" Draco abandoned his task and approached her. "I'm aware."

It was easy to feel trapped with him overwhelming the space between them, easy to feel judged when his eyes ventured from the top of her head to the slippers on her feet, but she felt neither. Just on edge in the way that made her stare at different focal points to avoid his gaze. Then lower, down his arm to the hand at his side. The—

She yawned suddenly.

"Tired?" The bass in his voice was a little too resonant for her. A bit too private.

"Yes." She struggled to shake off its effect even as she lifted her eyes to meet his. "I'm not operating at optimum levels right now."

"Hence your lack of argument."

Hermione rolled her eyes, braced her hands on the island, and pulled herself up to sit—to give herself a modicum of space. It put them at eye level with each other.

A horrible idea.

"I've been too busy to argue about everything." She played with the ends of her wet hair. "With your mother at Andromeda's and barely speaking to me, I've had to change my approach. The plant cultivation—"

"Isn't Longbottom assisting?"

"H-he is, but ultimately it's my work." Hermione folded her arms, internally scowling at the clumsiness in her voice when he took a step forward. She was being ridiculous. "As is my own gardening and brewing the potion—"

"I've agreed to help." Another step. "Another excuse?"

"Several." The effort to keep her tone neutral was taxing. "During your argument with—"

"I also gave you my word."

The way Draco stressed the single word gave her pause. His expression was a warning.

He wasn't perfect. Hermione didn't have to work hard to point out his flaws, they stood out, but when he faltered, he made up for it with the competence he prided himself on having. Draco hardly ever spoke without meaning it and she caught herself dismissing his words. Again.

Hermione treaded carefully.

"I understand, but I know you're busy. Scorpi—"

"I am and yes, I have other responsibilities, as do you. But I don't think it's wise to shift him too abruptly or without determining which course of action is most beneficial for him."

That was logical.

"The only addition I'm making to his current schedule is the introduction of sessions next week."

"Sessions?"

"Grief counselling." Draco watched her for any reaction. "I've been researching. Daphne suggested a Healer who works with children a while ago, but…"

He needed the push to take the first step.

"I think that's a good idea."

Not that it was any of her business.

Which was what Hermione would have said, but Draco took one last step. A calculated one between her slightly parted legs. She lifted her chin, eyes on him, trying to determine his next move.

They hadn't been this close since the night in the pasture, the same one that ended with tea in the conservatory the next morning. The rising sun had served as a backdrop to their parting kiss. It had been savoury, nothing more than a quick snog interrupted by time knowing Scorpius would wake soon.

Ever since, she'd been swept away, drowning in waves of chaos. Too busy for anything. Even when alone, Hermione hadn't had the capacity to think beyond the task at hand. But each night, before sleep claimed her, she allowed herself a moment to think of those little moments.

To think of him.

The memory of stars and sun.

Warmth and cool.

Chaos lingered in the peaceful afterglow.

"Scorpius will be down soon."

The reminder didn't hurry him. His every move was decisive and deliberate; careful hands settled on Hermione's hips as he lowered his head to hers. The tip of his nose brushed against her cheek. When Draco's lips grazed hers, she inhaled sharply, feeling a spark of something familiar.

He pulled back imperceptibly to catch her eye. Whether for permission or a request, she didn't know. Nor did she have a chance to find out.

The ringing phone broke the trance.

Draco stepped back, but not before dropping a perfunctory kiss on her cheek, which made Hermione mutter excuses as she hopped off the island to answer the call. It could only be one of two people; that knowledge did nothing to ease the dread knotting in her stomach.

Scorpius came downstairs, and she directed him to Draco before answering her phone.

"Hello?"

Her father's voice didn't calm her nerves.

They'd spoken intermittently since her fight with her mother. He kept her up to date with their travel plans, but each conversation was laden with unspoken words. Like before. He was frustrated by the situation, she could tell, but Hermione never pressed him to express it. She didn't envy his position.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes, I was just calling to ask you over for dinner. Your normal week."

"I would, but Mum—"

"Is stubborn." He exhaled sharply into the receiver. "At this point, I'm not sure if she's mad at you or herself, but I'm tired of this."

"Dad—"

"The chair in the art room misses you and-and so do I."

"I—" Momentarily overcome, Hermione clutched the receiver and wrapped an arm around her middle. "I'd like to see you, too. We can listen to Miles Davis or…" She scrambled to think of another artist he liked, voice too broken for her liking, but she couldn't help it. "Um—"

"Excellent choice. I haven't listened to Kind of Blue in a while."

"I'd love to listen to it with you."

She wouldn't miss out on her chance, no matter their difference in taste.

"I'd love that, too."

When the conversation ended, Hermione turned to the now empty space. Thankful for the moment alone, she used every bit of it to pull herself together, calm her jitters and quell her anxieties before joining her guests, who were waiting patiently.

Dinner was nice and cosy, even if the seating arrangement was odd.

Scorpius chose his normal spot between them, leaving everyone crowded around one side of the table. He was happy, which was the only thing that mattered. Draco didn't appear perturbed at all, quiet outside of looks over his son's head and sparse conversation. Scorpius was the centre of attention as he slowly signed the answers to each practice question Hermione asked between bites, smiling in the lulls, and looking content to simply be.

With them.

The feeling wasn't foreign to her.

Their presence filled what would have been a solitary night. A relief, really, but her mood was overlaid by the chaos of the last few days and the new sense of foreboding dressed as dinner with her parents. But Hermione tried not to think about it, allowing herself an evening of well-deserved rest, peace, and good food.

Dinner consisted of takeaway from some place posh, though she saw no names for confirmation. Summer corn and vegetable chowder, cheese toasties, and salad for Scorpius, but only if he didn't like the soup.

The lack of meat didn't go unnoticed by Hermione.

Support.

Perhaps not something Draco would do everyday, but tonight the thought counted as Scorpius devoured the soup and a half of his crustless toastie—more than she'd seen him eat regularly in the previous months. When finished, he abandoned the table, distracted by the plants. Once the plates and settings cleared and cleaned, and the containers back in the bag, they watched him visit each plant at his height from in front of the climbing roses.

The same comfortable silence never relinquished its hold, but it came to a natural end.

"You're quiet." Draco's voice jarred her thoughts and reminded her of where they stood, side by side, incidentally touching as she slightly leaned on him.

"Preoccupied." Hermione's confession was automatic. "I've… got a lot on my mind that needs sorting." Him. "I'm having dinner with my parents next week."

His stiff nod told her Draco remembered their talk about it—maybe not the exact details, but he knew he wasn't the only one with parental problems. Their eyes met, held, and released, before they turned to Scorpius who was… now curled in her chaise, eyes on the glass ceiling, waiting for darkness to fall.

The moon was out but the sky was still a deep blue.

A perfect night to watch the stars wake.

Or for them to watch him sleep.

Hermione summoned a blanket and covered the resting child, who curled on his side, his little feet poking out from under it. After a fond look, she left him to his dreams and returned to Draco, who was curiously staring at the pot next to her climbing roses.

"I planted the rose clipping I took from the Manor's garden. Neville showed me what to do."

"Why?"

"I thought your mother might like a piece of her garden in a place that won't cause her more stress and sadness." Her response earned her a weighted look. "It won't be easy. There's no guarantee it'll grow, but I wanted to try. Perhaps it will take root."

Draco's pensive silence was conflicted, more of a question than words could ever be. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"How is she?"

It was a difficult question, one he clearly didn't want to ask but felt compelled to. Pained echoes of inner turmoil were etched across his face.

Proof of anger's strength. But also love's endurance.

"Quiet. Upset. Hurting." Hermione stepped towards him. "How are you?"

Surprise swept across his features before vanishing, leaving her unable to decipher if the expression was due to the question itself or that she'd asked at all.

When was the last time someone had asked him that?

The question was loaded, despite being seemingly binary. The expected answer was yes or no, but the word itself had more definitions. There was a range of responses, and for a long time, Draco didn't tell her where he landed on the spectrum. He took her hands into his, lacing them together, and the gap between them closed even more as he leaned forward. He took off the mask he wore for the world and rested his forehead against hers.

"Fine."

A deceptive mantra Hermione had repeated to herself when she felt anything but. Instead of insisting or pushing, she closed her eyes and breathed, feeling both steady and aware of the growing chaos in all areas of her life.

Him included.

Or rather, the pesky seed in her field that was growing far too quickly for comfort.

"I'm fine, too."

---

August 12, 2011

Narcissa sat on Andromeda's swinging garden bench before daybreak.

Dressed regally in royal purple with perfect hair and makeup, she looked like a portrait come to life. Frozen in time. A bookmarked novel sat on her lap and her eyes were vacant, focused somewhere in the distance. Her entire being seemed turned inwards, lost in internal contemplation.

It was a familiar look.

"She's been out there over an hour." Andromeda was in the kitchen overseeing Teddy, who was trying his hand at making eggs. "Remember to be gentle when cracking the eggs, love."

Teddy's hair turned the same colour as the yolk when he nodded. Completely focused on his task, he reminded Hermione of his little cousin. She smiled.

"Is she having an episode?" Andromeda joined her at the glass door. "It's hard to tell. Sachs and Keating are better at deciphering."

The former had yet to arrive and the latter was completing her notes from the previous night.

"No. I don't think she is."

Narcissa seemed to be searching for a moment's peace she likely wouldn't find.

Andromeda twisted her fingers together. "She's recognised me during every episode."

Four since she'd come to stay after her fight with Draco. Likely triggered by stress and anxiety, it was further confirmation of her disease's steady progression.

"I talk to her when it happens. Tell her stories about our childhood. It keeps her calm until the tremors and muscle weakness pass."

Hermione glanced at Andromeda. "How are you?"

"Still trying to cope."

"If you need someone to talk to, or if you have questions, you know where I am."

"Sachs and Keating have been educating me. I read the first edition of your care guide." She glanced at the new one in her hand. "I'll read this one as well, but we haven't had much time together since June. I'll be sure to visit."

Hermione mentally reminded herself to schedule ahead to avoid one of her surprise visits.

"You aren't sleeping much, are you?" Andromeda's quiet question was laced with subtle concern.

"I slept last night."

Or rather, she'd fallen asleep at some point during their conversation on the sofa and woke in jarring confusion in her own bed.

"Good."

"I should go. I'm meeting Draco in an hour. He took the day and cancelled Scorpius' lessons. We're going to The Leaky Cauldron beforehand."

Andromeda's surprise was as evident as the numerous questions begging to be voiced, but she ignored it all in favour of clutching the new care guide close to her chest and exiting out the door. Hermione joined Narcissa on the motionless swing, remaining silent, waiting for any indication that she was ready to speak.

"You are quite persistent, Miss Granger." Blue eyes still stared off into the distance of the countryside. "An admirable trait when it is not directed at me."

"I'm still your Healer, even if you're upset with me."

"You are here to mediate."

"No, I'm here to do my job and present you with options that are geared towards your wishes. Since it's your wish to decline with grace, I'm here to make it happen to the best of my abilities."

"Unlike what I did with Astoria."

Toneless.

Her fight with Draco was still heavy on her mind.

Hermione sucked in a quiet breath. "Your past—"

"Regardless of what Draco thinks, I do have regrets and she is part of them. In hindsight, I could have been more… accommodating."

But had things been different, had Narcissa not been the catalyst, there might not have been a Scorpius. At least not as he was now. A fleeting ache at the idea of his absence was strangely sobering.

"I haven't come across any person on the face of the earth who doesn't have at least one regret. I have plenty myself. There are times I wish I had made other choices. Better ones. It's natural. Human."

Narcissa placed her book beside her on the swing. She was listening even if her eyes were trained elsewhere.

So Hermione kept talking.

"I understand that what's done is done, but I also remind myself that it's possible to grow from experience and learn."

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity.

"I did what I thought was best at the time, what I have always been taught to do: survive, rebuild, move forward, secure our legacy. I was raised not to linger, to be tenacious in securing what I want." She looked down at her hands. "I did not realise I was strangling him."

How could she not? The question remained lodged in her throat.

Generational differences and upbringing. Trauma. Death. Fear. Being uprooted too soon.

She'd done the right thing to save her son, lied to save him and them all, but she had been punished so brutally for it. The shock of it all, of losing Lucius the way she had. The Manor. Their identity. Draco was all she had left. It made sense for her to battle back towards normality, asserting control over whatever she could to make that happen.

Hermione had done the same after her seizure.

Control. Compartmentalisation of her feelings. Not taking a step without extensive consideration.

It was a defence mechanism, a practical survival tactic and trauma response.

Easy to recognise but hard to change. This was all she knew.

As for Narcissa, it must have been hard to see Draco's struggles beyond her own.

Past, present, and future blurred together, and the understanding of any one of them relied on having a grasp of the others. Hermione knew of Narcissa's history and the flawed, strong woman she had been raised to become. The blend of her past and present devotion to her family caused her to self-sabotage and make mistakes. She'd seen proof of her ability to grow and change, but the future was unclear and depended entirely on her and the decisions she made from this point forward.

"You can't change anything. The past is right where it belongs. Don't let it dictate your present or your future. It's important that we learn from our mistakes. It's also equally important to address our current reality and—"

"Perhaps this is punishment for the way I treated her."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but wisely shut it.

Best not to go there. It truly wasn't her place.

"Or fate," Narcissa said quietly. "I do not know which."

"If I've learned anything after erasing my parents' memories, I—if you're truly remorseful, you'll accept the consequences of your actions, and understand that things might not ever be the same. You own it and do whatever you can to make amends to those you've hurt. All of them. You might earn forgiveness, you might not. You have no control over it, but you do have time to focus on your relationships. This division between you and Draco—and even Scorpius—doesn't have to fill the rest of your life."

Hermione let the words sit in the space between them.

"How is he?"

It was a question she should have expected but wasn't prepared for at all.

Touching her hair to give her time to sort through what she could say, Hermione shifted on the swing. The other woman was waiting, even if she didn't appear to be.

"That you think I know what's on his mind—"

"Is not improbable." Narcissa looked at her for the first time. "A mother always knows, and while my son is good at presenting himself in the manner of his choosing, he does not have the same talent at hiding what he wants. At least not from me."

Hermione froze.

"Draco is careful and persistent. Not naturally patient, of course, but it is something he has learned as he has gotten older. And yet, he has not changed much when it comes to his methods of pursuit. He learns as much as he can about the object until he has it in his possession. It has always been hard to tell him no, even when what he wants is imprudent or… unsuitable."

She knew not to take the bait and react to the metaphorical slap in the face. Lately, Hermione had been really good about keeping her assessments and comments to herself, but—

Knowing better and doing better were two very different things.

She inhaled. "I suppose it's a good thing that you can't decide something's worth in his eyes."

"Oh?" Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Do go on, Miss Granger. I would love to hear your thoughts on the matter."

"You will, but not today. This is for your review." Hermione handed her the care manual. "I've made changes and geared the care plan towards your wishes. Occupational therapy should help with your tremors and rigidity. There are details about the adjustments to my earlier suggestions on pages twenty through twenty four."

Hermione stood, dusting invisible lint off her jeans and fixing her shirt.

"As for your comment, perhaps your focus should be on rebuilding your relationship with him and Scorpius. Listen to him. Consider his wishes, just as he has considered yours. You both have sacrificed so much in the name of family and legacy, but I think it's best that you decide which is more important to you: Draco's happiness or your own propriety and wish fulfillment."

She started to turn and leave when—

"Are you running from this conversation, Miss Granger?"

"No, but this is a topic that's not up for discussion. Not when there are more pressing matters for you to tend to."

The look exchanged signalled the standoff before an inevitable battle.

"I don't presume to know Draco's inner thoughts, but I do know that even in anger, he inquires after you. As you know, he's no stranger to loss, to losing people, and despite everything and the misery you've caused him, you are his mother and he loves you."

Narcissa looked stricken.

"Mothers…" Hermione shoved her hands into her pockets. "No matter how old we get, how angry or frustrated you make us, how much you push us and hurt—" She abruptly looked away and down. "We never stop needing you, even when life takes you from us."

"You know how much I love him."

"Then tell him. Show him. Respect the decisions he makes with his life and trust that he is capable of navigating his own without your input or demands. You raised him to be his own man, now it's time that you let him take control of the life he will live long after you've passed."

"I—"

"You think he's ready? No matter what Draco thinks or says, he won't ever be ready, but this is inevitable, no matter the care plan. I know this is hard on you, discussing your decline and making decisions, but this is equally as hard on him. He is preparing, just as you are, but in a different way. Don't waste this time you have with him and Scorpius. With your family—all of them. It's not too late to build better memories, even if yours will fade."

---

Breakfast had been abandoned when Hermione arrived.

That was not particularly worrying, but what grabbed her attention was the fact that every cabinet in the kitchen was open and the culprit was likely the extremely flustered child sitting on the island with his hands covering his mouth.

Draco was in front of him, looking lost with a grimace reserved for whatever was in his hand.

They both looked at it then at each other.

"Everything okay?" Hermione approached the pair, who were visibly relieved to see her.

Draco slowly uncurled his hand and showed her the object in his palm.

Scorpius lost a tooth.

But he wasn't the least bit happy about it.

"He bit into an apple slice," Draco explained.

She loomed a bit closer to the little boy who refused to uncover his mouth.

"He only got upset when it wouldn't fit back in place." Draco raked a rough hand through his hair. "Hence the accidental magic."

"Ah, his first?"

"Ever? No." Draco paused. "Recently? Yes."

Her immediate thought was likely right: he hadn't done accidental magic since his mother died. The expression on his father's face confirmed it, and Scorpius appeared increasingly worried, eyes moving between them, growing more restless until she steadied him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Losing a tooth is a good thing."

Scorpius was not convinced.

"Do you want to know why?"

Blue eyes turned comically suspicious.

"It's a sign of growing up and you are. Soon you'll be taller than me." Which wouldn't take too much effort. Watching Scorpius peek over at his dad, she grinned and conspiratorially whispered, "Maybe you'll grow as tall as him, would you like that?"

He nodded bashfully, but still kept his hands firmly in place.

"I know what happened was scary and it hurt. Do you feel better now?"

Scorpius removed one hand to sign yes.

"Good." Absently, Hermione smoothed his brows. "Your dad lost his teeth, just like you. So did I. And do you know what we did with them?" She had so much of his attention that he dropped his hands to his lap. "We tucked them under our pillow."

Why?

Hermione smiled at his signed question.

"If you put your tooth under your pillow, the Tooth Fairy comes at night and takes it to add to her collection. As thanks, she leaves you a Galleon—"

"I thought it was a Sickle."

She cut her eyes at Draco. "Inflation."

The corner of his mouth quirked. "A Galleon it is."

Hermione returned to Scorpius. "Can I see? Just to make sure you're okay?"

It took several moments of deliberation before he opened his mouth, revealing the missing tooth as a lower incisor; slight signs of his adult tooth were already present upon closer inspection. Hermione didn't notice Draco hovering until Scorpius' eyes wandered to him.

"Everything looks normal."

"How do you—"

"My parents are retired dentists." At the confused look on Scorpius' face, she amended her statement. "My parents are teeth Healers."

His little mouth formed an O as he bobbed his head.

After helping him down, Hermione eyed the waiting teacup on the island and closed all the cabinets with a wave of her wand. Draco took the lead on the simple task of taking Scorpius to his room to place the tooth under his pillow. When they returned, Scorpius hugged her for a long time while Draco went to his office to grab his wand before they all left. Holding on and tilting his head up, he gave her a gap-toothed smile that made her grin widen in return.

Just when she thought he couldn't get any more adorable…

---

The drizzle passed and the fog was lifting above the street in front of The Leaky Cauldron. From their seat next to the window, Hermione couldn't see the sun peeking between the clouds, but she knew it was there.

The city was alive.

The skies were turning from white to blue: the first sign of a beautiful day. Scorpius was far more interested in watching people and buses and cars than he was in the cinnamon twist Hannah had insisted he try, but that probably had to do with his disinterest in the sweet treat.

Scorpius, who was a bit paranoid about eating after the apple incident, didn't like cinnamon anything.

Neither did his father.

So Hermione enjoyed the pastry with tea while Draco stole glances of his son enjoying his trip into the city. Hermione barely disguised her wonder at the sight of them out together on a Friday morning, both so far off course.

When it was time, Hermione wished Hannah well and led the way to the entrance to Diagon Alley. One glance back and she caught sight of Scorpius' hand securely in his father's grip. She couldn't help but notice, once again, how small he looked next to Draco. It didn't help that Scorpius was peering around, and his thoughtful curiosity manifested itself as a deep furrow to his brows.

That was the extent of their matching.

Hermione tapped the bricks correctly and stepped aside for Scorpius to watch them roll back.

And he did, mouth open.

Diagon Alley was still asleep when they entered and lamps were still on, despite the sun's presence in the sky. The shops had yet to open, but employees could be seen inside each window Hermione passed, working to start a new day. The streets were nearly empty aside from the odd person or two enjoying a morning stroll before Diagon Alley was filled with vendors and people alike.

No one paid them any mind.

They walked along the pavement, Hermione noticing the Apothecary had finally been cleaned up—at least the windows were fixed—but the door was still boarded up.

They didn't linger there, but they did stop at the window to Flourish & Blotts, where Draco lifted Scorpius so he could see the books on display. He looked amazed. Their second pause was at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and she wondered if Draco would consider bringing him back once they opened, but she didn't ask.

93 Diagon Alley was closed for business, set to open later, but the lights were on and the top hat was extended in welcome. Scorpius was sceptical, steps slowing the closer they got to their destination. His hand slipped into hers and she was reminded of a promise she'd made him.

If you need me.

"It's a joke shop," Hermione said from their place at the bottom step in front of the closed doors. Scorpius craned his head up at his dad who was looking at the building. She wondered what he was thinking; he likely hadn't been there in years. "But they have a children's section they're starting and you get to be one of the first to see it."

That got the little boy's attention, and for a second, Hermione was worried.

Scorpius had a room with toys he never played with. She wondered if he would pick anything or even engage. Instead of allowing the thought to fester, she decided to let it play out. After adjusting his grip on his dad's hand and hers, Scorpius gave a quick nod and they started up the four steps. Draco let his hand go to open the door, and Hermione led him inside, where his eyes immediately took in the overwhelming sight and colours…

And a sight he didn't expect to see.

A person.

A friend.

Albus.

He stood next to Harry, practically hopping from foot to foot until he saw Scorpius.

They both froze for the longest moment before they surged into action at the same time, meeting in the middle with a tight embrace. The excitement on both their faces was something Hermione would never forget. When they pulled back and grinned at one another, she realised they were both missing teeth.

"We match!" Albus declared proudly while Scorpius audibly laughed, opposite of his earlier mood. What a pair they made. But then he held up both hands and stepped back suddenly. "Wait! I forgot!"

Scorpius' head tilted slightly, as did hers.

Clarity broke through when Albus raised his hands and signed three words.

I missed you.

"Auntie Fleur and Uncle Bill helped. Did I do it rig—"

Scorpius signed the same words back.

And then they were hugging again.

Her arm brushed against Draco, who stood silently beside her witnessing the sight, and when she looked, she caught the softening of his expression.

It was a moment he was part of rather than absent from.

Most of the time, hello was better than goodbye, and Hermione made a note to remember that no one could say goodbye if there hadn't been a hello first. She had to wonder if Scorpius and Albus weren't the only ones saying hello after a long absence.

Or maybe for the first time.

After being swept into the maelstrom of an ecstatic Albus, one where she hugged both boys at the same time, she realised how much Scorpius had sprouted over the summer.

He'd caught up in height with Al.

"Time for a tour!" George loudly declared from his place on the iron stairs that led to his office.

"Are you both ready?"

"Yes!" Albus answered for them both, still holding his best friend's hand; his excitement was contagious and had spread to the normally cautious Scorpius.

But instead of walking towards George, he peered up at a bewildered Draco.

"I'm Al." He stuck out his hand. "You're Scorp's dad, Mr Draco."

Hermione's eyebrow went up in the pause between that moment and when Draco squatted before both boys, accepting the offered hand.

"You can call me Mr Malfoy."

"Okay, Mr Draco."

And off they went.

It took biting her finger to stop herself from laughing out loud at Draco's perturbed expression.

"I didn't think it was possible." They were long out of earshot when he finally rose to his feet.

"What?"

"Potter's son is almost as annoying as he is."

That time she couldn't hold back and was still chuckling when she approached Harry, who was looking on in amusement as George gave an exaggerated introduction to a captive audience—well, mainly Albus, Scorpius kept looking over to make sure they were still there.

Keeping tabs.

"You look a bit tired, Harry," Hermione said while watching Draco look at items by the door, hands clasped behind his back.

He frowned at something she couldn't see and moved along. A full head taller than the stand, his face was clearly visible above the shelving.

"That's what happens when you open your eyes and there's a five-year-old staring at you. At your bedside. Already dressed and ready and asking if we could go now. It was three in the morning. I almost had a heart attack." Harry scowled when Hermione smothered her laughter into her fist at the mental image. "Ginny is on her way with Lily and James. They both weren't moving fast enough for Al so…" That time they both laughed. "Did you meet Malfoy and Scorpius here?"

"Scorpius lost a tooth this morning so after we calmed him down, we went to The Leaky Cauldron to wait. He people-watched until it was time. I don't think he's been here in a long time."

Harry folded his arms, his eyes cutting to Draco's back.

"I thought your wards were ready."

"They are."

"Then why were you at Malfoy's so early?"

"Oh, I normally have breakfast with them so—Harry stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Harry waggled his brow. "You're very involved."

"Of course I am. Scorpius—"

"I mean with Malfoy."

"What?"

"You seem… closer."

Pansy and Daphne hadn't told Ginny, which was why he had no idea about them courting… or whatever nameless thing they were doing. So, Hermione went with her next best argument.

"We have an alliance. I'm helping him with Scorpius and he's helping me with his mother's potion. We're just… experimenting."

Not technically a lie.

Harry's expression belied his disbelief, and she snuck a glance at the boys as they listened to George demonstrate his first toy. The children looked on in unmistakable fascination.

"I don't doubt that, but you look at him like—"

Harry stopped abruptly.

Hermione, curious about why, followed his line of sight. Ah! Draco had just entered earshot.

Of course he would notice.

Then Ginny came in carrying Lily, James at her side, and Harry excused himself to greet his wife and children. His parting look promised her they would resume their conversation. Hermione had no intention of doing that.

It was natural to gravitate towards Draco. Made sense to approach. Fall into step alongside him.

She almost said something silly about the shop bringing back memories, but not all memories were good. The items he purchased. The things he did. Instead, Hermione took the tactful approach.

"If you want the tour with Scorpius—"

"I'm letting him enjoy himself."

It looked very much like he was—not far from Albus. Their hands were still locked and their smiles bright with George's outrageous gestures and tricks from the toys he was showing them. He paused to take charge of introducing James and Lily to Scorpius, whose ears were burning from the attention. Too focused on the toys, the eldest Potter only waved while the youngest sized up the new addition, decided he was fine, and settled next to Albus.

"See anything you like?" After realising how it sounded and catching the slight rise of Draco's brow, Hermione amended her statement. "I saw you pick up a few items."

"This place has changed."

"It has."

George, Lee, and Ron had created an empire after the war and Fred's death—one of the few businesses to thrive without the false help of Tiberius. They expanded across the continent and were looking to grow further to the States. Their items had changed a lot, too. Just as many joke items as there were practical safety items. Rules for who could purchase what. It was a sign of the times and the world they lived in.

An uproar of childish laughter broke out and they both looked over at the demonstration. George's skin was turning different colours like a rainbow or Teddy's hair (as James loudly pointed out). Scorpius was frowning in confusion, appearing not to understand the purpose, until George stuck his tongue out at him.

Then he smiled.

"Where are you going after this?" Hermione slipped her hands into her pockets, feeling odd.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking you should take Scorpius to the bookstore or for ice cream. He would like that."

"Perhaps." Draco seemed to consider it, but kept walking down the aisle with all the safety items they sold.

Hermione just happened to catch his eye when he looked up at a shelf along the wall that was taller than him.

"What are you doing after this?"

"I…." The question stumped her. "I have gardening, Percy wants to pick my brain about a law you translated for him that I flagged for review. Then I'll be preparing the binding agents next week."

"Ah."

A tiny flutter of something rippled through Hermione, both surprising and irritating her. "What did you—"

"We still haven't had that walk. Perhaps you should choose the date."

Draco looked over at the display and her eyes followed his, catching Harry and Ginny blatantly staring at them. They both frowned while the other two exchanged looks and laughs.

"I'm assuming they don't know."

"No, I—"

"Hermione!"

It was a voice she hadn't heard in months: Lee Jordan.

And he was coming down the stairs with a gregarious grin on his face. He gave her a friendly hug before shifting his attention to the taller man next to her; Lee had to crane his neck to look Draco in the eye.

"Malfoy."

"Jordan."

That was the extent of their exchange.

"You're looking as stunning as ever, Hermione."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Draco's frown slip into a scowl when Lee took her hand and started to kiss it. Hermione swatted him away—like always.

He'd been like this for years.

Perfectly harmless.

"I see your time away hasn't made you any less of a massive flirt."

He'd been gone for months working to expand Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to the States.

"I've been saving it all for you."

She rolled her eyes and they laughed.

Draco excused himself, continuing down the aisle. Hermione watched him go, but she was certain their talk wasn't done. After shaking her head, she shoved Lee in the shoulder in true greeting.

He rocked back with the blow, pretending it hurt when she knew it didn't.

"Still heavy-handed, I see. How've you been?"

"Busy as always. How was New York?"

"Not bad, but there's no place like home. Speaking of, I hear you've been pretty tied up lately."

"Healing and gardening is hard work." Hermione glanced over his shoulder at Draco. She could have sworn he was watching, but when she peeked, he was placing an item back on a shelf. She shook her head.

Lee gave her a dubious look. "As is being part of the Restoration."

"I'm just helping."

"I hear that if Kingsley says no, they'll be looking to you to—"

"Speculation at best, as I'm not looking into a new career. Tell me about New York."

"It's crowded." Lee glanced over his shoulder only to see Draco disappear around the corner and out of sight. "Tell me about Malfoy. You seem… chummy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I happen to be his mother's personal Healer and we're working together on a few projects. We were in the middle of a conversation when you so rudely interrupted."

"What was he doing?" Lee cocked a brow. "Asking you out? The way he was looking at y—"

"You're incorrigible." Sidestepping him, Hermione tossed a hand up as she went. "Goodbye!"

It took almost no time to find Draco, who regarded her with a quick glance before continuing on. She fell into step beside him, noticing his tiny shift but chalking it up to him being his normal, prickly self.

Draco was looking at a Disillusionment necklace designed to allow children too young to do magic to hide when needed. But only once. It was the first thing he hadn't put back.

"Are you getting that for Scorpius?"

"No, for myself. To test it and see how it works."

"To create your own?"

"Possibly." His response was dry. "Perhaps create one that lasts longer than a single use."

"What else have you created? Your ring and Narcissa's necklace are two things I—"

Hermione's mouth shut when she glanced over at the wizard. He looked irritated, but not at any product in the store.

"I'm certain I can manage if you want to catch up with Jordan."

Oh! He was irritated at her.

Hermione picked up a wand holster. "I've finished that. I probably need another one of these. I wonder if they have a shoulder holster that—"

"You are under no obligation to be polite. Jordan just signalled for you to join—"

"Are you jealous?"

Before the question could be answered or avoided, two five-year-olds rounded the counter. Both were smiling, missing teeth adorably on display, and she knew instantly they wanted something. She also knew she would probably say yes.

"Can Scorp can see the chickens today?"

---

It was magical how such a small moment could feel so large in the eyes of a child.

Or in hers.

Even with Al's prodding and encouragement, Scorpius remained rooted in the grass by the entrance to her coop. His hands were clasped behind his back in a sure sign of nerves akin to stage fright from the tremendous build up to this moment.

It would pass.

Or that was what she told Draco when he folded his arms and his mouth turned down in concern.

They watched as he longingly looked on while Albus chased Pink and Zazu, the latter's joy from seeing the chickens after so long muted by Scorpius' hesitation to join in. Worried looks passed between them and she could almost hear Al's question in her mind.

Does he not like them?

With the way Scorpius took a hesitant step forward then back, Hermione doubted that was the case.

She left Draco's side to help, and when she found what she was looking for, Hermione sat in the grass next to Scorpius holding Iago—the first chicken to tire of running away from Albus—and a handful of feed.

"Come say hi."

Slowly, Scorpius sank down on his knees beside her. Iago pecked at the food in her open hand and Hermione petted the chicken's back while keeping her eyes trained on him, unable to feel anything beyond Scorpius's hesitation in the moment.

"Go on, love. You can do this."

Scorpius stared at her in open trust before gently petting its feathers—very slowly the first few times—and settling beside her.

"Soft, right?"

He nodded, still so focused, but his tension began evaporating. She stole a glance at Draco, who watched just as intensely from his spot, and waved him over with a single finger. Albus, as well, since Pink and Zazu were more focused on food than him. The transition from her lap to Scorpius' was as easy and calm as the growing smile on his face when Albus sat in front of him with a lopsided grin.

"Do you like them?" The hope in Albus' voice was loud in the silence provided by nature.

Scorpius nodded, mouth quirking in a way that made his dimples show.

Dubious was the best word to describe Draco upon entering the area, but when he sat in the grass next to Scorpius, and petted the chicken after a long but amusing staredown with his son, another word came to mind:

Trouble.

When Draco's guard was lowered, she was allowed to see the man beneath the mask, and in moments like these, he was the embodiment of that word.

She couldn't deny the way she felt when witnessing his efforts to support his growing bond with Scorpius, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone—like now.

Life hadn't been kind but each time it afforded him a bit of reprieve…

It was strange how much those moments resonated with her.

"Can Scorp have his own chicken?" Albus' question drew her attention. "We all have one. Scorp needs one, too!"

"Um." Hermione looked at Scorpius only to find him with eyes that practically screamed please.

Oh Merlin, she had no plans for another chicken.

Three was enough, but here she was, already thinking about the nearby farmer. He would likely have baby chicks available in the coming months… She could imagine the sight of Scorpius holding it reverently, and her ears already rang from the volume Pansy's scream would likely reach when she saw one—or maybe two—baby chicks in her new clawfoot tub.

No one just had one baby chicken. Everyone needed a friend.

"I'll think abo—"

"Yay!"

Hermione smiled at Albus' overt and premature excitement, Scorpius' quiet smile as he released Iago to join the others, then over to Draco, who looked on with an air of amusement. She felt light, sitting in the grass and warmed by the sun.

Oh.

"The others will be here soon for lunch." Hermione clapped her hands together. "What do you think we should make?"

"Pizza!"

The suggestion only won when it became clear Scorpius had no idea what pizza was.

Determined to change that, it took almost no time to get everyone inside. First, she sent the boys off to wash their hands while she preheated the oven. Al's loud promise not to play in the sink made her chuckle while she washed her own hands in the brewing room.

Draco stepped into the storage closet, and after drying her hands, she leaned against the doorframe to watch him.

"What are you doing?"

"Making certain you have everything we need. I'll also need to use your Floo to check in at work."

"Okay." She started to back out, but came forward in a moment of bravery. "Monday night."

Draco paused. "What about it?"

"I chose the date. I'll be spending the full moon at Pansy's, which will likely turn into the weekend. So… Monday. You choose the location." She cleared her throat. "I'll go start the pizza with—"

"You're overthinking this."

"As I do."

Given the list of locations she knew of, thanks to Pansy, so was he.

Hermione almost said something to that effect when he paused his task and stepped in front of her. A finger lifting her chin left her heart fluttering as she accepted one of his kisses.

It wasn't at all delicate, but neither was he. Deeper than the first one days ago in the conservatory but quicker than she'd like, the kiss ended and Draco pulled back before she could ride the wave of sensation. Left feeling stirred in a way that temporarily—and annoyingly—cleared her mind of clutter, chaos, and, honestly, everything else.

Well, almost everything.

"I should go." Not that she wanted to.

"You should."

Hermione felt his stare as she went.

It took every speck of willpower she possessed not to look back.

---

Homemade pizza was easy, but Hermione didn't make it often.

There was a recipe for almost everything, and she found one quickly, reading it out loud to her helpers while they brought her everything she needed. They got to work, making two pizzas for everyone. Hermione stood between two stools where the eager little boys worked quietly, listening to her direction and explanation. Flour was everywhere. Scorpius had a bit on the tip of his nose and Al couldn't stop laughing at his cross-eyed attempts to see. Hermione wiped it away.

By the time Harry and Ginny arrived with James and Lily, the last pizza was fresh out of the oven.

Everything was set up in the conservatory where the table was expanded and a mishmash of transfigured chairs were arranged around it.

It wasn't until well after they started eating that Draco emerged from her office and joined them in the open seat to Hermione's left. She still pointedly ignored the looks from her friends.

They were well past Scorpius' first experimental bites, and he and Albus were on their second slice, happy to be reunited. James was on his third, chattering about the new toys he got from the joke shop with his mouth full. Lily was halfway through her first, but opted to lay on the chaise in the sun after declaring herself to be a cat.

Draco didn't eat.

Not even when Ginny gathered all the children for post-lunch quiet time, which involved arranging everyone in front of the barely-used telly for cartoons. When she didn't return after thirty minutes, Hermione went inside to discover the cartoons were watching the majority of them.

Only Albus and Scorpius were still awake on the floor; the former was explaining the show on the telly to the latter. Ginny was stretched out on the sofa with James on the opposite end and Lily curled up in front of her. Hermione summoned blankets for them all and left them to nap in peace.

"Al and Scorpius are watching the telly. The rest are asleep." Hermione shook her head once she returned, the mild conversation between Harry and Draco ending upon her arrival. "Even Ginny."

Harry didn't look surprised. "Late nights and early mornings for the last few days, she was bound to crash somewhere." He grabbed another slice of pizza, which reminded her yet again that Draco hadn't.

The desire to know why was compelling.

"Are you not hungry?"

"I don't care for cheese." He looked as though he'd rather discuss anything else.

"What?" Harry balked. "How did you survive in France?"

"Without cheese," Draco drawled tonelessly.

The irony of having a son who loved it wasn't missed.

"I can make you something else if you'd—"

They all turned their heads when two little boys emerged. But instead of Albus prodding Scorpius along, it was Scorpius' turn to do the guiding and they came straight to her. Scorpius gave his friend an expectant look.

"Can we walk to the trees?"

Hermione glanced over at Harry, who seemed surprised.

"Only if you're sure." Harry sounded as patient as always. "We can wake Lily, James, and—"

"No." Albus said, dimming slightly. "I just—can you hold my hand, Dad?"

"Sure." Harry's eyes softened. "I won't let go unless you want me to."

Hermione and Draco lingered several paces behind, both focused on the sight of Albus walking between his dad and best friend, who periodically looked back to make certain they were still there.

The sun was high in the sky but it wasn't hot. Just comfortable.

The fresh air. The grass beneath her feet. The presence beside her. The fingers that repeatedly brushed against hers.

They didn't talk.

It didn't feel like the right moment to exchange words. Draco seemed to enjoy the silence and Hermione kept looking at him, trying to confirm her suspicions, but his focus was on the trees ahead.

Before she knew it, they were passing Albus' last marker.

But just as Hermione was marvelling over the fact that he was still going strong, that they were getting so close, maybe ten yards away, Albus stopped abruptly and his head tilted up at the tall trees.

Harry took a knee next to his son and talked to him while Scorpius looked between them, concern etched all over his face. Al's cheeks were turning red and her instinct was to help, but she hung back, not wanting to crowd him.

After a minute, Harry stood up and turned to him.

"We'll—" Try again.

He never finished.

Much to her shock, Scorpius stood in front of his friend. There was that familiar determination in his eyes as he got Al's attention and started walking backwards towards the trees.

And Al… followed.

Trusted him.

Step by step.

His eyes focused squarely on Scorpius, who kept him distracted from obsessing over the vastness ahead.

And they all followed behind the two little boys.

Scorpius only turned his head once, and that was when he walked the last few feet and touched the tree before holding out his hand like a lifeline. Al took it. When he touched the tree for himself, a moment so small and insignificant to anyone else, he sobbed and grinned and didn't let go of either lifeline.

Harry joined him, looking elated as he kneeled beside his son. She already knew he was telling Al how proud he was even as he wiped his tears. Draco's approach to Scorpius was much more subtle, more fitting to who they both were. Draco placed a hand on his son's shoulder and Scorpius leaned against him while still holding Al's hand.

To Scorpius, Harry offered his appreciation in a hand gesture Hermione hadn't expected.

Thank you.

---

August 15, 2011

Hermione sat at the island and flipped through a vegetarian cookbook for inspiration for lunch when three words at the top of a page caught her attention.

Back to basics.

Maybe it was time she did just that.

She started by putting away the book and pulling out all the ingredients she'd brought, and before she knew it, Hermione was grabbing flour and making crusts for individual vegetable pies. Something small and able to fit in a muffin tin.

By the time Scorpius signed his greeting and carefully made his way onto the stool, Hermione was letting lunch cool on plates. But the exhilaration she'd had while creating it had faded and worry was beginning to set in.

It was simple.

Maybe too much?

Maybe the filling was too thick, the vegetables might not be done, and she was now second guessing the seasonings. But she'd made it with her own combination in mind using all the tools she'd learned along the way—and most notably, no direction.

In the end, none of that mattered. There were only two opinions that counted: hers and Scorpius'. The little boy enjoyed it so much he put down his fork to sign his request for seconds.

"Of course."

Hermione watched him tuck into his second helping before trying it for herself. It was good, perhaps she'd let it bake for a few minutes too long, but it was hers—and that was the most important thing.

Catherine's entrance didn't cause any alarm, neither did the appearance of Narcissa's security team or Sachs, but when Andromeda entered behind her with a panicked expression on her face, Hermione snapped to attention.

Hermione got up in a move that made Scorpius look up, but before he could turn towards the group of adults standing together, she touched his wrist to get his attention and excused herself.

"Finish up, okay? I'll be right back."

He nodded, pulling his father's note from his pocket to look at it, as he often did towards the end of a meal. Reading—or trying to interpret—while eating. He reminded her of so much of Draco reading the paper while drinking tea. Hermione's fond smile fell when he stopped looking.

Something was very wrong.

Hermione made a sharp gesture for everyone to follow her into the study off the living room.

Out of Scorpius' earshot.

Whatever had brought them together wasn't something he needed to hear or know about.

After grabbing her trusty bag off the island, Hermione draped it across her chest and led the way. Her mind was rolling as she tried to figure out a solution before she even knew the problem.

Hermione shut the double doors with a curl of her finger. The corners of her lips dropped into a frown; the scene reminded her of a time in her life when Harry turned a normal day into one where they ended up in some sort of trouble.

"Narcissa had an incident."

Andromeda was direct, to the point, and instantly had Hermione's complete attention.

"What?"

"She was agitated after breakfast this morning. Sachs and I insisted she take time to settle, but she was insistent on keeping to her schedule today, which was busier than normal."

Sachs took over the tale. "We were waiting for the book signing to begin when she got up and started pacing the room. She made a noise and then she was just… gone."

"Where is she now?"

Sachs and the security team exchanged looks.

They didn't know.

"How long has she been missing?"

"An hour. Sachs came to me immediately and I let security search for one hour before coming here."

Sachs was frazzled. Everything from the state of her hair, clothes, and even the sweat on her brow spoke to the sort of day she'd likely already had. The two security guards were in a similar state of flustered panic, but there was only room for reason right now.

"We checked everywhere, every place she had wandered off to in the past. We came back here to see if she'd returned home. We were asking Catherine to contact Mr—"

"Wait." Hermione held up both hands. "Nobody contacted Draco?"

The security team exchanged looks. "He told us never to interrupt him while he's working."

"I think he would want to be informed if his mother's missing."

"I—" Sachs looked awkward.

Sachs knew about the fight; Hermione knew how little it mattered.

"Isn't he the one who always finds her?" Catherine spoke up.

With his ring.

Finished listening, Hermione stood, ready to give instructions. First, she peeked out to make sure Scorpius hadn't followed her, but he remained out of sight.

"Catherine. He's already eaten. If you could work on sign language with him and take him outside before his afternoon lessons that would be ideal. It's sunny. He'll want to sit with the cactus. Don't try to water it. We did that last week." She turned to Andromeda. "If I'm not back by dinner, Floo Daphne and let her know."

They both nodded.

"Sachs, was there any chance that she could have Splinched herself?"

"I'm not certain. She just disappeared. The noise was loud."

Not a good jump then. Hermione swore under her breath.

"Any issues after her potions this morning?"

It was a question worth asking.

"None. She was fine mostly." Sachs seemed to wrack her brain. "She complained of a headache and some general left-sided weakness, but that was it. I asked if she wanted to rest and she declined. Right before she Apparated, she was agitated because she was insistent that she'd brought her broach but couldn't find it. I was trying to calm her down and redirect her when she Apparated."

"I see. Would you mind excusing us?" Hermione gave Catherine a look and the witch left to fetch Scorpius. Andromeda followed.

Hermione was unamused.

"The next time anything like this happens, don't try to find her. Tell Draco immediately. Or come to me and I'll go to him. Splinching isn't our only concern."

She could have Apparated too far or found herself in a dangerous situation. Uncontrolled magic. Wandering and confused and lost. Panicked and afraid. She could wind up in the wrong situation or worse, accidentally spotted by Death Eaters. The threat of danger was real.

Too real.

"Please remain here should she turn up. You two"—Hermione pointed at security—"canvas the area surrounding where she vanished and around this house, look again at all her previous places and expand the search from there. Report back to me via Patronus." The two nodded and left immediately. "Sachs, Floo call Theo and notify him there's been an incident and to be on the lookout for any messages from me or Draco."

"And if he's not there?"

"Keep trying until he answers."

Hermione left with one destination in mind. Scorpius. He was now sitting on the sofa with Catherine, holding his cactus while giving her an unimpressed look that perked when he saw Hermione.

She took a knee beside him.

"I need to do something and I'll be back as soon as I'm finished." He started to move as if he were coming with her and Hermione shook her head. "I need you to stay here with Catherine. We've already talked. She won't water your cactus."

"Promise." His nanny gave him an assuring smile.

There were positives about his hyper obedience. He clearly didn't like that Hermione was leaving early, but nodded in acquiescence anyway. Cupping his cheek with her hand, she raised it up just a bit.

"Show Catherine how good you are with signing letters so she can be as good as you one day."

The proud look that appeared on his face made her smile.

Hermione glanced over at Andromeda, who watched the exchange with a soft expression.

"Can Teddy come over when he gets out of camp?"

"Of course."

In no time, she was stepping out of the Floo into Draco's empty office.

A quick glance at the open scheduler on his desk next to the slightly glowing potato showed her exactly where he was.

Training.

And off she went—no room number needed, just a hunch. Ignoring curious looks from Task Force members, she walked with a purpose past secretaries who tried to stop her, and people who whispered as she passed. Nothing else mattered. Hermione was single-minded on her way to the training rooms she'd seen the last time she'd been searching for him.

More eyes and whispers followed her as she made her way down the corridors of the Ministry. It wasn't until she got to the hall with the training rooms that she realised she had absolutely no idea which room he might be in.

There were eight.

The first four were blessedly empty, but the fifth was full of unfamiliar faces lined up in preparation for duelling.

Her presence earned several looks.

"Wrong room, sorry."

Before anyone could say anything, or ask her what or who she was looking for, Hermione stepped back out and closed the door.

Blessedly, that didn't happen again.

When Hermione opened the door to the sixth room, she spotted a familiar face: Harry stood near the door watching. It was larger than all the previous rooms she'd been in, the ceiling higher, the walls nearly white, and the floors looked hard but felt soft against the soles of her shoes.

Two trainees were already at work, locked in what appeared to be a fierce duel inside a ward.

The room was silent. The others stood in a semi-circle around the ward as they watched the two. They appeared evenly matched and equally determined to win as they fired what looked like training spells.

Draco was circling the dome, concentrating, observing, and giving direction in French.

Harry noticed her. "Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"Narcissa is missing. I need—"

She didn't have to say anything else. Harry clapped his hands and the lights in the room brightened, which drew everyone's attention, including the heavily breathing duo still inside the ward.

A visibly irritated Draco turned to Harry, but his eyes fell on her first.

If Hermione expected a reaction, she got one in the form of him pinching the bridge of his nose before squaring his shoulders and approaching them with long, confident strides. The closer he got, the more she noticed the nuanced changes in him.

No glasses or jacket. The harness with his wand was over one shoulder, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows exposing a glamoured, bare arm. Hermione would have rolled her eyes at his efforts, but there was literally no time.

"Granger."

"Your mother has been missing for a little over an hour."

Draco blinked twice before his mouth twisted into a scowl. "Where are her—"

"Can we talk and walk?" She didn't try to sound urgent, but subtly wasn't her specialty. Especially during an emergency.

She didn't necessarily like the ethics behind a tracking option but need weighed heavier than moral concerns.

He looked over at Harry who nodded. "I'll finish up here. Go."

The two exchanged nods and he followed Hermione out. When she started to go back the way she came, Draco grabbed her wrist just long enough to stop her.

"Follow me."

They walked in the opposite direction. Hermione quickly fell into step beside him, stopping when he opened the final door at the end of the corridor and dipped his head inside before opening it wider for her to enter. Hermione walked under his arm and waited impatiently for him to shut the door.

"How does it work? Your ring?"

"I say the spell and it takes me to where she is."

"Okay." That sounded simple enough. "But can it take us both? She might be injured or confused."

"I don't know. It—"

"Can we try?"

"I suppose. You'll have to stand close."

She moved until she was in front of him—toe to toe.

"Closer."

Hermione craned her neck up, shifting closer until she was pressed against his chest, arms around him with her hands locked together.

"Ready?" Draco never gave her the opportunity to answer.

He whispered the spell and she felt a strong tug.

Then…

The experience was different from Apparition but similar to travelling by Portkey.

There was a moment when time and space blended together.

Everything went from silence to the sound of ocean water in her ears. Hard floors to grass beneath their feet. Stale air to the smell of salt water. Artificial light of the Ministry to the natural glow of the sun.

It was blinding. Disorienting. The entire jump had left her feeling odd and out of place.

Hermione stumbled back and instantly blocked the sun with her hands, looking around what appeared to be a flower-covered cliff overlooking the ocean.

"I don't see her."

"She's—"

They both spotted something at the same time: a body lying in a heap surrounded by flowers.

Or what they thought was a body.

"Send a message to Theo now."

Hermione ran towards what was definitely her patient—confirmation came more into focus the closer she got. Narcissa was unconscious. Looking fragile and small, she was bleeding from a wound on her thigh large enough to stain her robes. Her face was flushed. Her lips chapped. There was no telling how long she'd been like that.

And that scared her.

Most of the time, it wasn't the disease that killed people in the end.

It was accidents like these.

Hermione dropped to her knees. Her immediate instinct was to check for a pulse, but she spotted something else first.

The shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she dug her wand out of her bag and quickly performed every diagnostic charm she knew. Reviving her was an option, but when Hermione lifted her robes and saw the obvious signs of injury that had been hidden by the grass, she decided against it. That amount of pain might send her into shock.

Dittany was the first bottle she pulled from her bag as she began slowly checking over Narcissa: her head, behind her neck—

There was a rock where grass should have been.

And blood on Hermione's hand.

That became her number one concern.

Draco appeared while Hermione worked as best as she could without moving Narcissa too much. It was nearly impossible. Silently, he lowered to his knees on the other side of his mother.

"Is she—"

"Alive. Unconscious. She hit her head on a rock when she landed. I need your help to keep her head and neck steady."

He did so while Hermione slowly turned her to see the wound. It was nasty but she couldn't see the source for the blood matting her hair, and trying to be careful only made it more difficult. She covered the spot with a cloth she pulled from her bag.

"Theo?"

"Is sending a Healer and Mediwitch, but we're too far for a single jump. He's setting up a Portkey to send them here and another to bring us back to the rooftop of St Mungo's. He'll have a team ready for us when we arrive."

"Where are we?"

"Jurassic Coast."

Narcissa had to have Apparated again.

The distance from where she'd gone missing to here… the effort alone would have killed her. The stress from one accidental Apparition was always hard on her body; she usually slept the entire next day. It was hard to imagine what two would do to her.

"How long did they say?"

"A few minutes." Draco never took his eyes off his mother.

He helped roll her back so Hermione could apply dittany to the wound on her thigh. Though gentle, she could see the slight shake of his hand, the little hints of anxiety she might associate with most people but never before with him.

He was scared.

Of course he was.

It took little effort to cover his hand with hers—just for a second—before she continued.

"Will she—"

"She's stable but we need to get her to St Mungo's."

And fast.

Hermione had done the best she could with what she had. And it wasn't much. Patching Narcissa up was a quick job she completed in silence, but that didn't stop her from catching sight of Draco slipping his hand into his mother's in what was a small and private act.

Hate and love were both strong emotions—some would even argue they were a basic part of human nature. Both were the result of either actions or reasons. Two sides of the same coin.

Easy to mix. Hard to separate. Felt with equal ferocity.

But which one lurked beneath the bitterness and friction between mother and son in that moment was clear.

Hermione had known it rested there all along. She'd seen it in their actions, both subtle and not, and it was obvious in the way they fought both for and against one another.

Love.

Sometimes it looked like apathy, but right now it looked like a son holding his mother's hand.

To comfort her and maybe himself, too.

Draco's eyes spoke of confessions that his mouth never uttered.

He wasn't ready.

To witness her decline.

To watch her forget.

To lose her.

---

Exhaustion was more than just physical fatigue; it was a state of mind, but awareness of it didn't restore Hermione's energy.

It felt much later than it actually was when she and the Healers finished with Narcissa. The last six hours seemed to stretch into months, and though it would take time, her patient was safe and on the road back to challenging Hermione at every turn.

After stepping out of her unconscious patient's room in a private wing, she dragged a hand down her face before moving on to the next order of business.

Gathering the parchment from her bag, she made the long walk to Roger's office.

Only to discover the door was shut.

Hermione knew where he was.

Not many additional researchers had been hired yet, just the few occupying the large glass rooms that lined the wall, working on experiments that caused magical reactions, or sitting behind desks on the main floor. Roger was easy to find; the only one standing towards the back wall. There was a stack of parchment floating next to him, and when he noticed her, he waved her over.

"Ah, Hermione. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"This is impressive."

"We just got the rights to expand with magic so I didn't want to waste time. We're still extending some sections, but it'll take a little longer." He noted the parchment in her hands. "How can I help you?"

"More file copies from Narcissa's case study."

"I heard she was brought in. Accidental Apparition with injury? How is she?"

"Stable. Still unconscious, but I'm optimistic she'll wake tonight or in the morning. This isn't the first incident since I've become her Healer, but it is the most dangerous. There are aspects of her condition I'm trying to figure out, and one is the sharp incline of events over the last couple of months. I know you're building your case study on her, but can you look into this? I've reached out to Charles Smith, but I'd like to get as many eyes and opinions on it as possible."

"Of course." Roger accepted the stack of parchment. "Perhaps in the meantime you should look into a potion or something that stops her from Apparating without intent."

Or maybe an object. Maybe just an adjustment to one she already had.

Why hadn't she thought of that before?

"Brilliant idea, honestly." Hermione would have to talk to Draco about it sooner than later.

"Speaking of her treatment, Theo told me that you're experimenting on your own."

"I am."

"I've looked at the ingredients and I'm intrigued by what you're attempting to change."

"I'm not aiming to change anything exactly. I'm hoping to combine all nine into one. As her disease progresses, it'll be easier to get her to take one potion over her current number. And if it works, it's not as time sensitive as her current regimen. I think it will help."

"Are you doing this on your own? I can—"

"It's a pet project." She kept the details of her partner silent. It was none of his business. "I feel that rather than experiment for all patients, I'll try to perfect the potion for one. Perhaps we can customise it and expand use to others who suffer from her illness, but I'm experimenting with binding agents and the ingredients are limited. Until I can figure out a way to cultivate it, I'm a bit limited. I also don't know if it'll work, if the brew will be effective, or if it'll even—"

"And you're preparing to brew the potion with that many extraneous variables?"

"Yes." Hermione blinked at him. "You said it yourself, it's an experiment."

"It sounds like you only have so many chances to get it right."

"That's true, but that's only if I can't figure out how to cultivate the plants. Neville and I have been working on that part of it already." Even though they hadn't come up with any clear answers.

"Perhaps you should wait until you have more answers."

"I think today's shown me that I can't wait for everything to be perfect in order to experiment. I have to try, and if I fail in every way possible, then—and only then—can I honestly say that I've tried everything. That I've done everything possible. And right now, I can't say that. I've monitored, I've taken ample notes, I've gone along with all the expert opinions, and I've treated her symptoms according to their proven method, but what I need to think of is creating my own. I need to look beyond what I know and what I can confirm."

"There's no cure."

"I'm aware of that. I am. But that shouldn't stop me from thinking about the possibility. Perhaps in the future."

Roger's eyes turned scrutinous. "This sounds personal."

"In some ways it isn't, in some ways it very much is, but to its core, this is me doing everything I can for my patient and her family. Perhaps it is personal. There's nothing wrong with caring."

She expected more argument, but he only nodded.

"If there's anything I can do to help…"

"I'll let you know."

"In my honest opinion, this isn't an undertaking you should go at alone."

She wasn't.

It wasn't the response she gave, having kept Charles' advice and Draco's potion in mind, but what she said didn't give away much at all.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for your help."

She started to leave when Roger stopped her.

"Oh, in other news, Charles Smith accepted the Head Researcher position and will start in late September. He's bringing experience from his own research and work. I think his presence might be beneficial to your efforts."

Perhaps it would be.

The walk back to Narcissa's room felt longer, the lights on the hall seemed brighter, and as Healers and Mediwitches alike passed her with smiles and curious looks, Hermione found her return smile thinning with each step.

She yawned twice, despite the fact that it was before ten o'clock, and rubbed her face. She couldn't be tired. Not when she had hours of paperwork to do and even more hours of official charting that had to be completed before she could rest. Just the idea of it all deepened her exhaustion.

Hermione turned the corner that led to her destination, prepared to find the Healers finishing up, but she came upon an unexpected sight instead.

Draco.

Sitting on the edge of his mother's bed.

Watching her sleep with their hands clasped together.

Hermione almost cleared her throat to announce her presence when he moved, reaching out and carefully sweeping her hair behind her ear. He covered her forehead with his hand. Then her cheek. Each move, the way he was looking at his mother, all of it was gentler than she'd ever seen from him.

More open.

Honest.

Like earlier.

It still caught Hermione off guard. Not because of the action, but the heavy emotions around each one. The truth she'd known all along was now being expressed so fluidly.

And when his mother reached up with a free hand to cover his, Hermione's heart stopped as quickly as Draco's hand stilled. Narcissa's eyes were slow to open, but when they did, they were glossy and focused on her son.

Probably for the first time in too long.

It was hard to interpret, but the magnitude of a simple exchange was there, in the air, and it made Hermione's stomach coil in nervous knots about what was happening and what might be said. Like a spectator, she watched a mother and son exchange two words simultaneously that allowed her to breathe.

"I'm sorry."

Simple to speak yet complex in meaning, the words were more powerful the less often they were spoken. Apologies were more than just an intentional act. They were a unique form of memory due to the tangible connection between past mistakes and present remorse wrapped up in a few simple syllabes. Two words that could act as the balm that began the process of healing deep wounds, de-escalating a quarrel, drawing people closer, and changing lives.

But those two words couldn't fix everything.

And yet, it was the start they both needed.

Everything happened for a reason. Hermione believed that to her core. And it begged to wonder if the purpose of all the mishaps and missteps, the arguments and strife, was for them to get to this point.

Narcissa's first step towards forgiveness and the moment Draco began to let go of his anger.

Their new beginning.

Though he would likely never forget, he was ready to forgive. They understood each other's armour was nothing more than rusted metal—man-made, temporary.

This was the exact place where pride fell and humility rose to begin restoration, offer peace and understanding, and ultimately seek forgiveness and healing.

"Draco, where am I?" Narcissa tried to look around but was unable. A painful grimace deepened her features.

"You shouldn't move."

"I remember nothing."

Hermione could hear the fear in her weak voice.

Once again, the emotions in her tone served as a reminder—not of their uphill battle to make Narcissa see reason about her care, but of her ongoing fall.

Her decline.

Coming to grips with her disease was like clutching at clouds: impossible.

"St Mungo's."

Hermione could barely hear him, his gentle voice nearly a murmur, so she took a step forward.

"You Apparated, likely twice. Granger and I found you." Draco stopped Narcissa when she moved to sit up. "Try to relax, Mother."

To Hermione's surprise, she did.

Maybe she was disoriented, maybe she was just overwhelmed by her son's concerned presence, but for the first time, Narcissa relaxed completely and closed her eyes, taking one breath after the other while Draco watched intensely as if he were making note of each movement and readying the information for analysis. Their hands were still clasped together.

"I am deteriorating."

Draco looked down and it hurt.

"I am terrified."

So was he.

Hermione decided it was the right moment to make her presence known by stepping fully into the room after a quick knock on the door. Narcissa's eyes opened and Draco turned his head, not releasing his mother's hand. Approaching the bed, she stopped once to glance at the enchanted parchment with her readings.

Not bad but not good.

Her leg brushed against Draco's as she stepped into the spot in front of him.

"Be honest with me, Miss Granger. How much time do you think I have?"

"I will always be honest with you." Hermione told her gently. "I have always been honest with you, even when we don't agree. Especially then." She gave Narcissa a fond look that made a glimmer of a smile appear on her face. "I can't answer your question about time."

She peered at the Healer's work. There would be the faintest bruise on her hairline.

"I'm no longer focused on it. Only what I can do in the interim for your comfort. That doesn't mean I'm giving up, but this is what you want. Things like this will continue to happen the more you decline, but I will be here to ease this process as much as possible. I'm still going to fight for you, but I need you to do something I've promised to do myself: step out of your comfort zone."

"Andromeda said the same thing. Repeatedly."

It was nice to know they had another ally.

Narcissa's eyes slipped shut; the potions worked to heal her body from the inside and settle her mind. Soon her breathing evened. Deepened. Hermione finished updating everything with a Quick Quill at her side.

Draco didn't let go of his mother's hand. He never stopped watching. His mind was visibly churning.

She nearly left him to it and was contemplating just that when she turned.

"Draco…"

He looked at her. "What?"

"You need to go home and rest, if you can."

"Potter forced me to take tomorrow off so I'll stay here on the sofa. I'll make certain I'm home in time for…"

His words died when she impulsively stepped into his space, hesitating twice before doing what came naturally.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead in an offer of comfort, she let her lips linger for an indeterminate amount of time until she tucked her head into the crook of Draco's neck.

It felt like an eternity had already passed when his arms slowly curled around her, drawing her closer, his grip tightening as he let go of everything he'd been holding in since they'd found his mother.

In no time, Hermione's inhale became his exhale.

Subtle.

In and out.

The growing need to analyse and categorise this and her feelings for him wanted to run rampant, but she stubbornly kept it stuck in place. But the effort didn't stop panic and chaos from blending into something she knew well.

It rose in her like a paralyzing flame.

Fear.

Chaos was the law of nature; Order was the dream of man.
Henry Adams

---

Disclaimers apply, as always.

A/N: Happy Friday! And Happy reunion of the tangerine twins/Toothless twins (Al and Scorp). I had so many woes with this chapter, but not as many as Hermione, lmao, the poor girl is struggling with her feelings. Receptive but not sure where the lines are. Also genuinely bothered by the speed at which they're building in her. Bless. I genuinely enjoyed writing the impulsive add-in scene between Hermione and Narcissa. Hope you all enjoy. Also thank you so much for the love and support. It's invaluable.

Next Chapter: July 2nd