A/N: Thank you so much to everyone reading! There were some questions after last chapter about her letter. I didn't write a scene where we see it get sent, but assume that it DID happen, just off page.
I had a super day and wanted to share more of this story! Hope you enjoy! I also hope you all had great days too!
Chapter 6:
The bell over the door of the apothecary jingles as Hermione browses more soap. Every bar is perfect in it's imperfections and simplicity. That she knows Draco Malfoy's hands have had a part in the crafting of each bar makes them feel somehow more significant. That a man who knew such horrors—such darkness—can find joy in raising goats, cutting lavender, and learning how to make soap with muggle chemistry makes her feel even further away from her goal of finding her purpose in life.
"Hermione!" A small body barrels toward her and she instinctively scoops him up into her arms as his joy collides into her. The weight of him in her arms is exhilarating and she luxuriates in the pressure of his hug.
Malfoy eyes her across the shop as he approaches Mrs. Collingsworth, a parcel of what she is sure is more gorgeous soap in his hands.
"Hermione, it was amazing!" Scorpius wiggles down and starts gesticulating with his arms, "We. Were. Flying."
Eyes wide she puts her finger to her mouth hoping to quiet him a bit, not wanting him to break the Statute of Secrecy due to his excitement. "That's incredible, Scorpius. I hope you were safe."
"My dad would never let anything happen to me." She knows this. She's seen how Malfoy cares for his son. He's a good father.
Before Scorpius can continue his story, Mrs. Collingsworth is scurrying toward them, arms full of soap and a face full of reprimand. "Surely your father didn't have you out on his motorbike?" Malfoy shrugs, his smirk unapologetic as he steps up behind Scorpius to put a hand on his shoulder. Mrs. Collingsworth mutters something about men and dangerous hobbies as she busies herself stocking the shelves.
Scorpius is so visibly excited he tries to go on, "No, we were—" The rest is muffled by Malfoy's hand over his mouth and a grunted reminder to keep the true story of their flying a secret.
Hermione is aware her mouth is hanging open and Malfoy raises an eyebrow at her in challenge. "You have a motorbike?" This is not the craziest thing she's ever heard, but it's another piece to the puzzle that is a grown-up Draco Malfoy.
He shrugs again. He's far too pleased with himself for surprising her. Scorpius squirms free and ducks around Hermione to help the shop owner. "I'm just full of surprises, Granger."
"Aren't you though." She wanders away with her own smirk and continues to browse the shop; Malfoy's eye catching hers at various moments before they finally go their separate ways for the afternoon.
That evening she's tucked into her couch reading, a cup of tea going cold on her end table when, along with the summer breeze, a bright figure leaps through her open window.
Hermione has seen plenty of patronuses, she doesn't know whose this one is, but its size startles her and her teacup falls, the shattered remains mingling with her ignored tea. The shimmering wolf seems agitated as it paces before her and she is holding her breath waiting for its message.
"Granger, I need your help with Scorpius. Please come immediately."
Silvery strands melt into the night air as she bolts from her couch and disapparates to Malfoy's door.
No sooner does the pop of her apparition fade across the field, does Malfoy fling the door open and usher her inside.
"Where is Scorpius? Is he alright?"
Malfoy doesn't slow his steps, and Hermione finds herself following him up the stairs stopping only when they reach the door of his bedroom. His wand flicks in agitated little movements as clothing flies across the room and into a travel case on his bed. "Malfoy! Scorpius!"
He dismisses her with a wave, "Yes, he's fine, Granger. He's asleep."
"Then why am I here?"
He drops his wand to the bed and rubs over his temples and his eyes. "It's my father. He's had an accident. That's all mother could tell me."
"Forgive me if I don't know what that has to do with me."
"I can't take Scorpius there. Not with my father like this and Mother in a panic." He sighs and collapses on the edge of the bed, his posture slumped as he rubs the back of his neck. When he finally looks up, his eyes beg her, "He's starting to have more frequent bouts of accidental magic and you're the only other magical person I know here."
Desperation surrounds him as he stands and approaches her. "Please, Granger. He likes you, and if I'm not mistaken, you like him as well?"
"Of course I do."
"So you'll keep him? Three days maximum."
"I will." He steps away and resumes his packing as she retreats downstairs, finding herself in the kitchen.
When he comes in, she's rifling through his cupboard, "At least wait till I'm gone to snoop."
"I'm not snooping. I need tea." She grumbles.
Reaching over her, he pulls a canister from the shelf. She nods and adds the loose leaves to the tea pot she already found.
Malfoy is still standing in the kitchen when she turns around. "I'm off then." and he raises his wand to apparate away.
"Wait!" He lowers his wand, his face almost relieved, "What about the goats?"
A short laugh huffs from his throat, "There is a list on the table. Scorpius knows the routine, but he's only six, so he needs a fair bit of direction still."
She sees the parchment on the table and nods. "Safe travels then." He nods again and hesitates, and before Hermione can overthink it she says, "I hope everything works out with your father."
And then he's gone.
Spells fly over her head. She ducks and weaves through the woods, bark and leaves raining down on her as she tries to escape. The shouts of her pursuers echo off the trees leaving her with no bearings.
An old barn appears in a clearing ahead and she pushes her legs to carry her faster. She's inside in an instant and climbing the ladder to the hay loft. The mounds of hay offer her cover and she wills her heart and her breath to slow and quiet as footsteps pound around the exterior of the barn.
She is still. Not daring to move before she's sure they've retreated.
Then the shaking begins.
The whole barn rocks to and fro, the security of the hay pulling away and she's sure any moment they will burst in and discover her.
A distant voice calls, "Hermione."
They know her name.
She tries to grasp for the hay, more cover to hide her.
"Hermione!" Louder this time. Someone grasps her arm.
"Hermione!"
Her eyes shoot open and a scared little boy is standing before her in hippogriff covered pajamas.
Bolting up from her makeshift bed on the sofa, Hermione let's instinct pull Scorpius into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I was having a bad dream."
He nods against her and sniffs, then climbs onto the couch tucked into her side, Ollie joining them along the back of the sofa. "Why are you here? Where's my dad?"
"There was an emergency with your…" she fumbles, what kind of relationship does Scorpius have with Lucius? "With his father… your grandfather."
"Is Nana Cissa okay? And my dad?"
Hermione tightens her grasp for a moment, "Yes, they're both just fine." He nods against her and squirms out of her grasp, Ollie gives her a head bump and follows his young companion.
Scorpius disappears up the stairs and is back in a few moments, dressed and seemingly ready for his day. "Hermione, why are you still sitting there? We have to take care of the goats."
Rising from the sofa, she takes stock of her outfit. Loose sleep pants and an old Hogwarts shirt, there are some shoes here somewhere, but she's sure they won't work for a day as a goat farmer. "Scorpius, I think we need to walk to my house so I can get some different shoes," she tells him as she retrieves her fluffy slippers from beneath the couch at last and holds them up with a shrug.
He giggles into this hand. "Are those dragons?"
Hermione looks down at the slippers, the dragons' plush scales glittering in an iridescent purple and she giggles too.
"But the goats are hungry." He looks thoughtful for a moment, "Your feet can fit in dad's boots." Then he's rushing out of the room calling for her to hurry up.
The boots sit innocuous enough on the back stoop. They are scuffed with a layer of dust on them, boots that know what manual labor is. Hermione slides her feet in, tucks in the hem of her pants, laces the boots and follows Scorpius into the barn.
Malfoy was right, Scorpius knows the routine and even helps keep her on track. Soon the goats are milked and fed, their stall is cleared and fresh hay added. She's never been more thankful for magic. Hay bales are quite heavy.
"We need to get the eggs and feed the chickens, then we can have breakfast." Scorpius is dragging her to a small coop outside the barn
"You have chickens too?"
He looks at her like she's crazy, "Of course we have chickens. Where do you think we get eggs?"
"My mistake," she mutters and trails along after him.
Once back in the house, she checks the list. At least the morning chores are complete. Scorpius instructs her in the delicate art of scrambling eggs just like his dad does it, and judges her adequate at the task. She ruffles his hair as he shovels the fluffy eggs in his mouth, but his confidence in her feels good.
"Hermione," he calls from her front room, "you sure do have a lot of books."
Stepping from her bedroom with a now appropriately packed bag, she smiles at him as he looks up in awe at her book collection, "Yes, I like to read." She tousles his hair for the hundredth time that day and motions for him to follow her out the front door.
The rumble of an engine draws their attention toward the road, neither expecting the car to come to a stop in front of Hermione's cottage. Hermione is doubly surprised when Harry Potter emerges closely followed by Ginny.
"Harry! Ginny!" She rushes forward to hug them both. "What are you doing here? Where's James?"
Harry throws his arm around his wife and she cuddles into his side, "This one here," Ginny nudges him with her shoulder, "Surprised me with a getaway for the two of us. Mom has James for a few days and we'll have some time to ourselves before Albus makes an appearance."
Hermione smiles at her friends; Ginny is glowing and Hermione can't help but reach out to gently caress her bump.
"Who's that?" Harry is looking around the two women to the small blond boy standing on the stoop cradling a black cat.
"Well… that's Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy." Hermione offers and she waves Scorpius over.
Ollie jumps down as Scorpius trots over. Harry offers his hand to the young boy, "How do you do? I'm Harry Potter."
Scorpius doesn't hesitate to shake Harry's hand, "I'm Scorpius Malfoy. Are you really Harry Potter?"
Harry looks down at himself, then to the two women as if confirming his identity, "I believe so. Have you heard of me?" He's enjoying this far too much.
A look of awe is on Scorpius' face and Hermione wonders for a moment just what Malfoy would have said to his son about a boy he held largely in contempt for most of their youth. But he's surprised her before, so what's to say he won't surprise her now.
"My dad said you made things good again."
Harry gives a noncommittal little shrug. He's still so sweet and modest. Then he turns to Hermione, "May I have a word with you for a moment." He's smiling, but motions for them to step away from the Ginny and Scorpius.
"Tell me about your cat." Ginny distracts Scorpius like a seasoned professional and he begins to yammer on about Ollie as they drift toward the side of the house.
"So," Harry looks uncomfortable now, "Malfoy… has a kid… and you're keeping him?"
"What are you getting at Harry?"
"You've not mentioned Malfoy in any of your letters, and then last night… and now I find you here with his son." It's not an accusation, he's just curious.
"He's my neighbor," she motions to the line of trees, "through the woods. He… wait, what happened last night?"
Harry rubs the back of his neck and glances to be sure Ginny and Scorpius are still out of earshot, "His father fell down the stairs. Mrs. Malfoy found him. The healers aren't sure what caused the fall, could have been a stroke, could have been caused by a hallucination."
"Hallucination?"
"Apparently, he's not been well since the end of the war; mental and physical degradation from long term exposure to dark magic and the Cruciatus curse."
She had no idea. The Malfoy family became largely reclusive after the war, see Draco Malfoy, goat-farming-soap-maker as exhibit A. "How do you know all of this?"
"I was called out for the auror department to open Floo privileges to the healers. I actually saw Malfoy last night." Now she knows he's digging for something. One would think years interrogating criminals would teach some subtlety, but no, he's as obvious as ever.
"I did too," she gives him a tight grin, "I had to see him so he could ask me to keep Scorpius while he tended to his parents."
"But, I mean, why you, Hermione?" He holds up his hands. "I mean, you're obviously more than capable of taking care of a child… are you and Malfoy involved?"
A laugh bursts from her, and she can't stop it for several moments, "Oh, Harry! Of course, not!" She's laughing again, but quieter this time, this situation really is absurd, but her life has been fairly absurd for years now. Is it so absurd to think she could be involved with Draco Malfoy? "We're neighbors… by some random happenstance, and since Scorp is starting to have more accidental magic I was his only choice."
A lopsided grin takes over Harry's face, his eyes glinting playfully behind his glasses, "Scorp huh? Getting attached to his kid?" She pushes his shoulder, he barely budges, but he does laugh and draw her into his side with an arm around her shoulders, "Don't get violent. I'm just teasing… Besides, Malfoy seemed alright last night. Called me Potter, instead of Potty or Scarhead, even shook my hand and said, 'Thank you'."
"Harry Potter, is the bar so low that calling you by your surname and giving you a handshake the litmus test for redemption?" He shrugs and waves it off.
They walk toward Ginny and Scorpius, the energetic boy running and bounding around Ginny as he tells her in great detail about flying with his father. Ginny, in keeping with her true self, performs a similar imitation of some daring maneuver she undoubtedly performed on the Quidditch pitch. Ollie, perched on the garden wall, follows the two playmates with his sharp eyes as they dart around one another.
Harry scoops up Scorpius as he dashes by before falling in a heap of messy hair, tangled limbs, and laughter. "James is a lot easier to do that with," Harry groans as a still laughing Sorpius jumps up and takes flight once again, Ginny and Hermione leaning on each other as they giggle.
After standing, Harry dusts himself off and looks to Hermione, "We came by to see you, but I suppose we can accommodate one extra. You two want to go into the village for lunch?"
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