YYYYYEEEEUUUUUUCK! I wrote fluff. No smut, just language and WAFFs.
Still working on Mosaic. There is a surprising amount of medical jargon and dots I need to connect. Feeling a little like Charlie on Always Sunny at this point.
Anyway, have a peace offering.
Not beta'd, not brit-picked, and not canon. Also, Harry Potter and it's related properties aren't owned by me.
Draco Malfoy re-entered her life at 8:17 at night while she was on the most boring date of her life. One moment, she was listening to her date drone on about his work at the Ministry - a glorified gopher for the Aurory - and the next, her wand was vibrating with an emergency from St. Mungo's and her intern's patronus was flying toward her.
"Sorry to interrupt, Hermione, but you're needed for an emergency immediately," the cardinal relayed before disappearing. She made her excuses, filing away her date's annoyed face as a reason to never see the ponce again, and swept to the restaurant's floo to head directly to her job.
Five hours later, Hermione had to tell Draco Malfoy that his wife Astoria had died giving premature birth to a beautiful son, who had been saved. She had to tell him this while still wearing her date wear and roughly scourgified of his wife's blood. Then she took him to meet his son, already nursing donated milk and a vitamin potion made specifically for premature births, and held Draco Malfoy as he cried on her shoulder.
She held him while he heaved great sobs, murmured to him while he blamed her for not being a good enough Healer to save his wife from a blood curse, scratched his head and smoothed his hair while he apologized for everything he had ever done, and shushed him while he thanked her for delivering his son alive.
"Scorpius," he whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy." He stood up again, adjusting his clothing and gazing back at the infant within.
"Go meet Scorpius," she whispered,seeing the longing in his face. And he did. As soon as the platinum blond wizard got within reach of the baby in the ward bassinet his entire focus shifted and she took her chance to escape, to mourn in peace.
The whole of Diagon Alley seemed to be a-bustle with the anticipation of summer hols and increased business, adverts targeting busy mothers and bored youth starting to dot the stones in front of stores. Conversely, other stores were marking stock down and it was for this reason she was accompanying a very hormonal Lavender and a very determined Ginny on what they generously titled, "Girl Time". With the full moon two days away, it was no wonder Lavender was being overdramatic, but if Ginny let loose to the honey blonde witch her horrible, obviously incorrect and completely baseless, idea that Hermione was pent-up - well, the resulting frackas would be undying.
Merlin, she could already hear Lavender's promises that this bloke or that one was The One, her friend being as romantic to a fault as she was. That, or she'd take to Divination and swear up and down she could read Hermione's soul and find its mate. The worst yet was the idea Lav might recruit her fiance, Hermione's best friend, Ron. If he caught wind that anything seemed amiss with Hermione, not only would she get an earful, but Harry would be brought into it, and they would set her up with every single bloke they knew - or scare off any ones they didn't.
Blimey, Ginny needed to stay silent.
They wandered into Madam Malkin's, Lavender wanting new robes to attend her mother's garden party, when Hermione met Malfoy again, stopping short just in time to miss running into the pram he pushed.
"Granger," he greeted her cordially after she fumbled through an apology, his grey eyes watching her carefully if warmly.
"Malfoy," Hermione replied much more steadily than she felt, recalling randomly the feeling of his strong shoulders in her small hands and the puffs of his breath on her neck while he whispered his regrets. A shiver of something which was absolutely not anything like arousal was tamped down and beaten with a brick. "How have you been? How is Scorpius?" She asked politely.
One could almost pinpoint the moment Ginny's keen stare locked in on Hermione and Malfoy by the door, a pram between them. 'Fuck,' she thought, stomach sinking deeply when the wizard before her broke into an unguarded, happy smile completely without warning. 'Double fuck,' she thought as she fought back a swoon, changing the odd swaying motion to look like she was bending to look in while he pulled the light blanket which had been blocking the light from overtop the pram.
Hermione realized very quickly she was not prepared for how cute of a child Draco Malfoy made. Good genetics, indeed.
"Oh, he's perfect, Malfoy! Look at his little face!" From the corner of her eye, the man beside her puffed up and she grinned. The swaddled six-month old was sleeping soundly, light cap slightly askew and mouth open, drooling gently. Draco placed the blanket back over the opening while she peppered him with questions about his son's health and development. From her new vantage point by the professional wear, Hermione knew Ginny was watching his reactions as well.
'Balls.'
"-would like to join me for dinner to show my gratitude."
Hermione honed back into what Malfoy was saying at just the right time to give an eloquent answer. "Huh? I mean, I'm not opposed, I just- Malfoy, you-" Shite! Ginny had started in their direction, curiosity official at max capacity. "Can I think about it? I'm just-" his face fell a bit and she hustled to blurt out something, anything, which would take it away before Ginny arrived by her side. "You don't owe me anything, but maybe as new friends?"
His smile was blinding and she could hear her mother in the back of her mind complimenting his gum line. "Sounds fine, Granger. Just owl me if and when you decide."
Ginny popped up a moment later and Hermione was able to slip to Lavender's dressing area while Draco showed Ginny his son and eventually left. Lav was on her third set of pink robes - 'candy floss,' she insisted - when their fiery ginger friend seated herself next to Hermione with an elbow on the armrest, a fist under her chin, and a stare pointed at the brunette Healer. Hermione looked off into a darker corner of the room, picking out the items there and mentally listing them while Ginny continued to stare at her.
"So… what was all that about, then?"
"N-"
"What was all what about?" Lavender asked, stepping out and wrinkling her nose at the mirror when she saw how the colour fared against her skin. As Ginny inhaled a deep breath next to her, Hermione slouched in her seat, defeated. For the rest of the day, the two witches tortured Hermione with alternating nagging and salaciousness regarding Draco Malfoy and his offer of dinner. Hermione headed home to soak in the bath after Lav began reading the leaves when they stopped for tea, Ginny sniggering next to the blonde.
"You never did send me that owl," he greeted her the next time they met. This time, it was just she and a pregnant Lavender walking through the Alley just after Hermione's birthday, shoppes putting away their back-to-school adverts and preparing for the upcoming season. Ginny was out of town doing foreign Quidditch correspondence for Witch Weekly, so the girls had opted to have a spa treatment morning and lunch, which had not agreed with the pregnant partial-lycanthrope. Thus why Hermione was waiting in the hall to the loos while Lavender upheaved everything she had eaten in what sounded like the past twenty-four hours. He was without his son this time, dressed casually in dark trousers and a white button-down.
Of course this would be the time he would approach her. After their meeting three months before, Hermione had come to terms with the simple fact that Draco Lucius Malfoy was a singularly attractive specimen of manhood. That fact alone has been in her periphery since Hogwarts, a sort of awareness that, while Draco was fit, his personality made up for it in spades. She had accepted that her libido apparently also believed so despite their dodgy past, and her common sense had finally shined through at the last moment to make her cope with the knowledge that such a fine man had lost his wife less than a year before, and she had been the attending Healer.
Not even to bring up that he had a child, which wasn't really a deal breaker in the slightest for Hermione. The stirring she felt in her uterus when the Prophet or Witch Weekly would run pictures of the two Malfoys together was enough to tell her she was not at all put off by Malfoy's fatherhood status.
Nope, in the end, she declined to owl him out of respect for his late wife. That's what she told herself and Hermione refused to entertain any traitorous feeling that she might just be scared.
She waved her wand at the door to the women's washroom, the sounds Lavender was making becoming more pronounced. "That one there found out she's pregnant and it has been insane at Saint." She kept her tone light, apologetic but nonchalant, and stuck as close to the truth as possible, but she was sure he could also hear her pounding pulse while she half-lied through her teeth.
"I should have known you were too much of a Gryffindor to reject an invitation without extenuating circumstances." He picked at his fingernails, leaning his back against the wall beside her and propping a foot up.
It took her a moment to react, hyper-focused as she was on the warmth of his body beside hers. "Wait, what? You thought-" a laugh was startled out of her, unexpectedly loud in the short, dark corridor. "You thought I was scared?" She was, she hated it, but she was. As far as admitting that went, however, Hermione was not keen to give up that particular ghost. That skeleton would stay in her closet firmly beside her fixation with Snape's hands and never see the light of day.
"The thought had crossed my mind," the wizard beside her admitted. The sound of a sink turning on came through the door Lavender had disappeared behind creating an odd sense of urgency in Hermione. After Ginny had spilled the beans in Malkin's, the two had been relentless in absolutely ruining Hermione for anyone other than Draco sodding Malfoy. Lavender, in particular, was quite talented with adjectives and would 'wonder' things aloud such as whether or not Malfoy's arse looked as delectable out of trousers as it did in them. The next morning, Hermione had been flipping through the paper and had come across a picture of Draco and Scorpius walking through a Wizarding park, the shot at a rear angle to perfectly catch the play of light upon Malfoy's shapely rear. Yes, she had decided, not only could one bounce a galleon off it, Draco Malfoy's arse likely only stayed clothed to prevent mass heart failure among the witchfolk (and some wizardkind).
"Listen," she began apologetically. "I'm sorry things have been so hectic, but I finally have a Friday off from Saint for the first time in-" Hermione lost her voice immediately. It had been when Astoria died. "A while," she continued lamely. Making eye contact, bravely she might add, Hermione smiled a bit. "I'd be delighted to have dinner with you and Scorpius if you're available."
With another one of his possibly-illegal smiles, he promised to owl her and sauntered off toward the dining area. "So, dinner, hmm?" Lavender's voice came from the door.
Fuck.
They made plans for her to floo to his place; not the Manor as she had supposed, but a townhome in Notting Hill, posh enough to be tasteful but nowhere near as affluent as Holland Park had become while still feeling lived in. Ginny had returned the day after lunch with Lavender and had already heard the whole story, thus why the vivacious wife of her oldest best friend was assisting the curl-headed witch in preparing for what she insisted was not a date.
After a particularly loud squeal over shoes, Hermione shared a mournful look with Crooks at the level of noise Ginny was making in her excitement, her familiar seemingly saying, "why do you allow this?" She just shrugged at him, making the half-kneazle sneeze and grumble in irritation.
"Oh, stop, Crooks. I'm not that loud," Ginny told the familiar not a half second later, and he glared accusingly at her as she left the closet. "Because when you grumble like that, it's always about me."
"It's creepy that you do that, Gin." Both friend and kneezel turned to look at Hermione and then at each other.
"It's like she doesn't know she does it, too, Crooks. Barmy, that one is." Her kneazle heaved himself up and padded over to where Hermione sat on the end of her bed, placing a paw on her hand before hopping off.
"I'm not lonely and it's not a date!" Hermione hissed at his back, his rumbling barely audible while he made his way out the door.
"That's not a very nice thing to say, Crooks," Lavender's voice could be heard from the hall. "I understand that, but humans don't work like kneazles or cats." Her voice faded off as she assumed the two walked back toward the kitchen.
"She's doing it, too." Hermione pointed out the obvious with a thumb to the door. Ginny just smirked and dangled the heels in the air gleefully. "You're a sadist."
Ginny cackled and pulled a slinky black dress from behind her back. "I prefer the term 'adventurous'." If that dress were any shorter, Hermione considered the adventure was going to be in keeping her knickers concealed.
"You is being welcomed to Grant House," an elf intoned as she stepped through the floo. "Gregor be's showing you to the parlor, Miss Herminny." Hermione picked the fabric from her legs lightly, resettling her skirt and releasing some of the static the floo had amassed.
"Lead the way, Sir Gregor!" She smiled at the elf. His bulbous eyes swung to meet hers in an unimpressed stare. "Er, I mean-"
"At least you is not freeing me," Gregor grumbled and waved his hand for her to follow him while the elf walked out of the room. Pink-cheeked and mildly annoyed, Hermione trailed behind Gregor, losing both her embarrassment and poor mood only moments later when she took note of the tasteful decor and the art surrounding her. Muggle and magical paintings lined the main corridor with happy, bright coloured scenes intermixed with landscapes of tranquility.
One such landscape which reminded her of the beaches she had visited at Walpole after her first visit to Australia, back when she still had hope in recovering her parents' memories. The feeling of nostalgia was so strong, Gregor's voice faded away and she could almost hear the sea birds and soothing splashes of water. She remembered blindly apparating to a beach she had barely recalled seeing in a magazine, the stress and heartache so strong within her that common sense had fled. There for hours, Hermione had come to terms with being the very last Granger, the small stretch of Mandalay Beach consoling her through it all.
Looking at the painting wasn't painful or difficult, but rather filled her with hope and solace. She was making plans to visit that very beach when she felt warmth up her whole back and a tiny fist tangled in the curls at the back of her head. Softly, Hermione smiled, and reached back to gently detangle Scorpius' hand from her hair while spinning slowly around. Assuming she would be face-to-face with a baby, Hermione was both mildly surprised and inwardly gleeful to instead be facing a broad chest in another white button-down.
"Granger." Merlin, Morgana, and all their Merry Mates, his chest actually vibrated when he spoke, a very faint thought echoed in her head. And he was holding his child. She was bloody done for. 'Just a thank-you' her fresh lily white arse. 'No, focus'. Hermione craned her neck up - he's so tall - and smiled placidly, finding an inner strength to channel Luna's relaxed, slightly airy self.
"Malfoy, I was just admiring your lovely home. Hello, Scorpius," she tickled his nearest dangling foot, making the boy laugh with strands of her hair still clutched in a fist. She expertly worked her index finger into his offending fist and traded the appendage for her hair, the child so amazed that she had a coloured fingernail he forgot entirely about the kinky curls he had been tugging on.
She patently did not at all consider how domestic the scene looked from the outside, she and Malfoy standing so close, both interacting with his adorable son and smiling. Hermione felt his gaze when it shifted, and her feet shuffled in a subconscious response. Fuck, this was awkward. Why was he looking at her like that? Like what? Wait, how was he looking at her? Hermione was not about to lift her chin to find out, unsure whether she was thrilled or terrified by the potential outcome.
A beat passed and Malfoy was moving a moment later, Scorpius still gripping her finger and towing her along. "I was figuring I would feed him and then put him down for bed first?"
'Danger, Will Robinson!' The thought erupted at the same time her anxiety shot up. Outwardly, however, she smiled and played it cool. Perhaps she was overthinking it, Hermione considered to herself. Maybe he truly was just looking to thank her for delivering his son, but all the signs he had been showing since they ran into each other in Madam Malkin's pointed to interest of another sort. If she could say anything, however, it's that Draco Malfoy had grown up and changed from the bigoted shite he had used to be, so perhaps she could give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Is there anything you'd like me to help with?" The question was out before she could stop it, though it was only in polite manners to do so, she figured. Even so, Hermione had resolved in the corridor to downplay any overly domestic activities. It absolutely was not because she didn't want to get more involved or attached than she already was and had no likeness to fear of rejection combined with overlying guilt. Nope.
Except it was and it did, and instead of pulling back to simply send friendly, helpful vibes, she was giving into the charm of entering an obviously used kitchen and seeing Malfoy buckling his son into a muggle high chair. Her uterus was in danger of falling straight to the floor while he made faces at his enthralled son.
"Yes, actually, if you'd get the jar off the island there beside you. Ah, thank you." He babbled to the boy while feeding him what looked like coarsely mashed bananas and Scorpius was finished and being trundled off to a nappy change and bed.
"You're amazing with him, Draco." And she meant it. Watching him make faces and sounds and interact with his child was a singularly heartwarming experience, one she never thought possible back in Hogwarts. The smile he gave her filled her with such warmth, she felt combustible. He said nothing, but tipped his head and moved to the sink, his back to her while he hand washed the food jar and spoon.
"Thank you, Hermione," he said finally, so quietly she almost didn't hear even in the static silence of the kitchen. It was a loaded statement, she could tell, and it changed the atmosphere completely. She crossed her arms across her middle, digging a toe into the tile flooring and biting her lip. He shouldn't thank her, not like he was. Hermione felt hollow with his misplaced gratitude.
Astoria had still died, all because Hermione hadn't been enough. He didn't need to know she had spent part of the time between their first and second chance meetings nearly obsessed with blood curses and their treatments. He didn't need to know how she had sobbed brokenly into Lavender and Ginny's shoulders when she had discovered how to cure Astoria - a month too late. But here Malfoy was, thanking her with such conviction her gut soured.
A sob escaped her before she could stop it and within a blink between the first heave of breath and the next, he was across the kitchen and wrapped around her comfortingly as she wailed the horrible truth into his chest.
"Have you been carrying that this whole time?" He vibrated again, this time against her forehead where it rested on his tear-dampened shirt. Another sob answered his question. "Hey," her shoulders were gripped in his large hands as he distanced himself enough to lean down and look into her eyes. Idly, she realized they had never been so close to one another before that she could note the individual slices of silver, icy blue, and stormy grey in his.
"Granger, Hermione-"
"Present," she interjected weakly, shrugging a bit under Draco's hands when he rolled his eyes at her despite the corner of his mouth lifting wryly. That same gaze which had locked her did so again when he turned serious.
"None of it was your fault." Six simple words which shouldn't have lifted even a feather of trouble from her eased an entire mountain of self-blame. Dinner turned into an impromptu tea instead, both nibbling at sandwiches and sipping mismatched mugs in the informal den wherein he told her about his life after Hogwarts, particularly his marriage.
"We were not a love match, I will immediately put on record," his voice was boisterous with good spirits, both figurative and literal as he had added a bit of whisky to his Earl Grey. "She was a bloody terror." Hermione felt badly about laughing a bit, but that eased a second later. "You'd have loved her, of course. She was insanely intelligent and often busy studying but always found time to send me a Howler for doing something stupid with Theo or Blaise."
He was right. Astoria had sounded like a hell of a witch. He talked about how she had started to get sick, before they were even bonded in vows, and how they had made a pact. "I promised her she would live on even after she died. She knew she was dying the whole time, Granger." His eyes shone in the firelight with a suspicious wetness but she said nothing.
"We were never in love, but she was my best friend and the only regret I have is that you never got to meet her before she died." Yes, she had, Hermione wanted to say. Eventually, she had croaked that fact out into the silence of the room. She had met Astoria, both months into her pregnancy and during a lucid moment before the other witch had passed, Hermione had met and spoken to Astoria Malfoy.
"Funny enough, we met at Madam Malkin's. She was picking up maternity robes she had ordered and I was being fitted for some Ministry do." The rim of her mug rested gently on her lip while she murmured in remembrance, staring into then past the fire in the hearth. "I remember she smiled and waved at me, like we were old friends. When she was leaving, Astoria walked over and told me I looked lovely, wishing me well. Then out she went."
The whole five minute interaction had played in Hermione's overactive mind since, even during the horrible moment in St. Mungo's where her only interaction before Astoria crashed was the younger witch smiling just the exact same way and telling Hermione to take care of 'her boy'.
Malfoy's head jerked up in the corner of Hermione's eye from where it had slumped to his chest. "Those were her exact words?" Hermione nodded solemnly. He was quick to tire out after that, ending things on an awkward note and leaving her to wonder what she had done wrong. As he walked her to the floor, she waved the thought off. Probably just the conversation and heaviness of the evening. Plus, he had had a bit to drink.
When Hermione lost sleep that night and the few nights after, she would later deny it had anything to do with her evening at Draco Malfoy's townhome.
Another lousy date, another emergency page. This time, though, it was a happy affair through and through. After hours of labor, at the early hour of 4:49, Ronald and Lavender Weasley were the proud parents of one Rose Mae Weasley, a squealing nine-pounder with a tuft of strawberry blond hair and an already voracious appetite.
Hermione excused herself from the room and sought the employee lockers to change, looking down at another ruined dress in as many months since the first. She still felt a pang when she thought of Astoria and her death, but she took Malfoy's distance as a sign and tried to honor his deceased wife's request of her the only way Hermione knew; she set up a Gringott's trust in his name, just as she was doing later for Rosie and any other children her friends had, a portion of her earnings each week being deposited until they reached legal maturity.
Pushing through the door with a shoulder, she set to stripping the spaghetti strapped garment off alongside her unmentionables and hopped in the shower. Birth was never a clean affair and despite the liberal use of magic to sanitize the birthing room, she always left feeling covered in amniotic fluid, blood, and vernix. Freshly cleaned,she wrapped a towel around herself and hunted down her locker, disappointed to find she only had one of Harry's old quidditch shirts and a pair of sweatpants with 'Angel' emblazoned across the rear - thanks, Lav-Lav.
Whatever. Clothing was clothing, and after being awake for just about twenty-four hours, Hermione couldn't care. Her minor disappointment resulted a moment later in a high point as she discovered where her favourite slippers had disappeared to. Oh, comfort and bliss! Filling completing the Escaped Mental Patient get-up, she threw her wet hair into a messy bun and donned a long cardigan sweater Mrs. Weasley had knit years before.
Sleep deprivation started to take hold about then and Hermione decided the world could live without her for six-to-eight hours while she slipped into a coma at home. That just sounded lovely. A nice, warm coma. She was muttering those words on the way to the floo when she ran into a wall.
No.
Not a wall.
A Malfoy. "What's this about a coma?" He vibrated curiously where her forehead rested. She muttered something against his chest in response before promptly passing out.
"Urrrggghhhh..." Hermione gurgled awake, her eyes closed against the piercing headache she had. Something gurgled back from within the room and despite the pain, her eyes popped open only to see a mini-Malfoy smiling at her.
"Hi," the toddler said, smiling widely.
"Hi?" She responded eloquently. The last time she had seen the boy, he had still been developmentally behind his age group, even minorly, only just eating chunk foods. Now, here he was, showing his teeth in a wide, innocent smile, and talking from his play area.
His button nose scrunched at her and bright blue-grey eyes lit. A moment later, Scorpius was laughing and screeching, "Hi hi hi hi!" Her headache was honestly already abating, but this was enough to nearly bring it back full-force.
"Scorp, calm down," Malfoy's voice came from behind the small sofa she was laying on in what she could now see what the very same informal den they had had their disastrous tea months earlier. "Here," Draco came around and handed her a phial of what was clearly a minor headache option.
She took it with a thanks and let him serve her tea before her curiosity got the best of her. "I'm assuming I passed out?"
He made a noncommittal noise, handing her the mug before he spoke again. "I didn't think you were serious about a coma, Granger. You've been asleep for ten hours. It's just gone five o'clock."
"I'm so sorry!" She blurted, cringing at the tone of her voice and Scorpius' repetition of 'so'. It took her a moment to realize the low noise she heard was Draco laughing. "What's so funny?"
"You, Granger. You have nothing to apologize for, once again. If it makes you feel better, consider this my apology for the way I acted months ago." Why was he talking about this? He had no idea how hard it was to not only come to terms with her attraction to him, but her confusion over his silence and frankly hurt feelings. "Join us for dinner and I'll tell you about it? Please?" He added when she tried to stutter out a polite refusal.
Over perfectly baked hen and steamed vegetables, he told her about a young witch with a penchant for nicknames and her best friend, a wizard who pined for something he thought he could not have. "I suppose a blind man could see I always noticed you," he said conversationally, and she dropped her fork. "But she said I was always such a 'boy' about things. She was even willing to drop the contract."
Her mind flew putting pieces together. Astoria had never meant Scorpius, she realized. He had been born before she had even made her request of Hermione. No, Astoria had been talking about Draco. Her 'boy' was Draco. And the pining wizard was also- but that meant that she was-
Oh. Well, alright then.
As calmly as possible, Hermione picked her silverware up again and speared a wedge of potato. "So is that why you-"
"Panicked, yes." A hot flush worked up her cheeks. The attraction hadn't been one-sided. Did that mean-?
"And the 'friendly' dinner?" Her voice was faint, reedy.
"Not as friendly as advertised." Hermione glanced at him across the table. His jaw was even more defined with the tension he was keeping in it and his eyes were fixed to the plate in front of him. When the tips of his ears began turning red under her stare, she took pity on him.
"Good, I would have felt horribly awkward knowing I wore date night knickers for no reason." She bit her lip, timing the moment her statement sunk in. This time, his stare took her breath with its intensity.
"And now?" She really needed to take him in for an exam with how much rumbling this man did. Hermione decided to test the waters a bit more.
"I don't feel awkward at all." His nostrils flared and he immediately focused on his son. Yeah, she thought to herself, he totally got my point.
After putting Scorpius to bed and another round of tea in the den, she even proved it.
"Ew! Mom! Hermione and Dad are doing it again!" Scorpius whined to the portrait outside his room. At twelve, he was already top of his Hogwarts class and making quite a name for himself as a bit of a rising star in Potions. As such, he was home on Winter Hols to enjoy time with his family.
Or he would be if Cass would leave him alone and his father and step-mother would stop their canoodling. "They're grown adults! They act like- like- like-"
"They're in love, Scorpius. When you finally find the courage to confess to Rose Weasley-"
" Mo-ooooooom!"
Around the corner, Draco gave Hermione one last kiss, heated and smiling, before pulling away and heading downstairs to greet their impending houseguests. She stayed leaning against the wall and sent up a silent thank you to the woman who started this all. Within her portrait, Astoria smiled a little wider.
Finis
AN: hope you enjoyed it, it was just meant to be a little happy in a world of bad right now. Stay safe, stay blessed, and stay magical.
(Also, Grant House is a total nod to Hugh Grant, btw, and Drago's townhome is in... Yup, there ya go.)
