Day Seventeen

There was no rush to get out of bed that Sunday morning. Hermione certainly wasn't anxious to have to face the rest of the world and the depressing reality she would find downstairs. It felt amazing to stay right in her bed where she was with Rabastan's arms around her. She never wanted him to sleep in another bed than the one she was in. If that was selfish, so be it. She felt safe and content in his arms. Maybe one day she would eventually grow tired of being constantly touched by her husband in bed, but not yet. Once he was awake too he kissed the back of her head.

"I don't want to get up," she admitted.

"Good because I'm comfortable and don't want you to leave either."

Just lying there in silence with the man was pleasant.

"Were you serious about wanting children?"

Sometimes she blurted out the first thing in her head without thinking. Finding her amusing, Rabastan chuckled and kissed the back of her head again.

"What is going on inside that head of yours this morning?"

"I don't know. I was just thinking about what you said the other day about making the shop a true family business. That doesn't sound like a marriage of convenience."

"No, it doesn't because I very much hope we've gotten past that idea and that our marriage will be a real one with actual love and affection. Unless you don't want that."

She could feel how tense and nervous he was just by how he held his body behind hers. Was he really afraid she was about to tell him she didn't want that too? Had he not been paying attention for the past two and a half weeks?

"Of course I want a real marriage."

When he relaxed a little, it made her smile. Maybe it was too early for love, but she cared about him a great deal already. That would likely only become more intense as time went on.

"So children… how many do you want?"

He chuckled.

"Why don't we start with one and see how we like it? Or we just don't worry about a number and take as many as we get?"

"But you really do want them? You're not just saying so because you feel like you're supposed to have them or because you think I might want them so you're just willing to go along with it?"

Concerned with her line of questioning, Rabastan raised up on his elbow and pulled her carefully down on her back so he could look at her face.

"Hermione, what is this about?"

She sighed, almost wishing she hadn't said anything, but she knew it was an important conversation to have before they completed their bonding spell. Other couples had the talk about children long before they walked down the aisle.

"I would never want to bring a child into the world that wasn't wanted by both parents. I… I know what it feels like to be unwanted and I would never want a child of mine to feel that way."

He was confused and even looked a bit sad.

"What do you mean you felt unwanted?"

Not wishing to stay laying down another second, Hermione sat up to rest her back against the headboard. It felt easier to talk when she was in that position.

"My parents tried for years to get pregnant when they were first married, but they couldn't. There are ways now for Muggles to have babies with a doctor's… healer's help, but those options weren't available yet. They eventually gave up, deciding they weren't meant to be parents and I think they were relieved. But sometimes women who have trouble conceiving when they're young are able to right before they got too old. My mother was one of those. She was in her forties when I was born and my father was already fifty."

It was hard to talk about. Never before had she ever actually admitted the truth to anyone. Sensing she needed some encouragement, Rabastan held her hand.

"I interrupted their ordered lives. They'd given up all hope of ever being parents, so when I arrived, I messed up their plans. They didn't know what to do with me. And when I started with the accidental magic? They were terrified of me. They were relieved to send me off to Hogwarts. The first few years I came home for holidays, but they never seemed to want me there. They were always glad when I suggested staying at Hogwarts or going to the Weasleys. It was easier for them when I wasn't around."

She didn't realize she was crying until Rabastan sat up, put his arm around her, and used the top sheet to wipe away her tears. It was sweet, but also made her laugh too. Not wanting the morning to grow too maudlin, she tried to make a joke.

"That's the problem with us Mudbloods sometimes. Magical world doesn't want us because we're magic thieves and the Muggles don't want us either because we're frightening abominations."

Rabastan didn't find anything amusing about her awful joke. His jaw was clenched and with each passing second he grew angrier.

"I never want to hear that word spoken in my home again."

Quickly he got out of bed and stormed off to the spare bedroom. Hermione felt terrible. Usually she didn't use that word at all, but she thought he might find it somewhat funny coming from a known blood purist family. Clearly she'd mistaken him once again.

With Rabastan gone there was no reason to stay in bed any longer. He was still in the spare bedroom with the door shut when she emerged from the bathroom dressed. To give him his space and help him to calm down and stop being so upset, she chose to go downstairs. She wouldn't push him. That would only make it all worse.

After so many days of getting used to having breakfast every morning, she felt hungry shortly after arriving. She unlocked the front door of the shop and locked it behind her. Directly across the Alley from her shop was a teashop she had been to more times than she could count. There would be something there for her to nibble on while she waited to open the shop for the customers that wouldn't be coming.

Everyone looked at her strangely when she entered the shop. It all felt bizarre. She hadn't felt like she was under such close scrutiny by the public for over ten years when the war first ended. When she reached the front counter to make her order, the clerk scowled.

"We have nothing for you here."

"What do you mean? I just want some tea and a scone or two."

Before she could create a scene, the witch that owned the shop approached Hermione at the counter. She had always been kind to her when she'd come in to visit before. Never had she been refused.

"This is my shop and I have the right to refuse service to anyone I don't wish to serve. You and your husband aren't welcome here, Mrs. Lestrange."

Somehow Hermione managed to keep it together to walk out of the shop with her head held high. Rabastan had been afraid something like that would happen. So far they'd avoided the confrontations by leaving the wizarding district and going out into Muggle areas of the city. It was a short walk to another teashop further down the Alley.

At the last second she almost decided to turn back for home without buying anything for breakfast. The overwhelming urge to just rush home empty-handed almost won out. But she was a determined witch who set her mind to something. Her pride was on the line now.

Nervous to step into the shop, she was encouraged when the witch behind the counter didn't immediately demand she vacate the premises. No, she was very kind and even seemed a little excited to see Hermione. When she looked around the empty shop and saw no other customers, she understood why. It was a charming teashop and all of the pastries smelled absolutely delicious. Why was it empty?

She was on the verge of asking the rude question if the shop was always so slow when the door to the back opened to admit a massive blond man that could only be former Death Eater Thorfinn Rowle. Everything suddenly made sense why business was slow for them. They had the same problem at Flourish and Blotts. Feeling an instant kinship with the witch, Hermione ordered far too many pastries and several cups of tea.

Rabastan was there to open the shop door for her when she returned with her hands full. He kindly took the drinks out of her hand to help.

"Are you very thirsty?"

"No, but…"

The story of being kicked out of the first teashop was on her tongue, but she stopped herself before she told him any of it. He had been upset enough that morning.

"I went to a teashop down the Alley that is owned by Thorfinn Rowle's new wife. It looked like they could use the business."

"Ahh, I see."

As soon as he set the tea down on the counter, he took the pastries out of her hand to do the same. He then took her hand in his.

"I'm sorry for storming out of our bedroom that way this morning, but I won't apologize for what I said. I grew up in a house where that word was said all the time and I refuse to let it be spoken in my home."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

"We will raise whatever children we are fortunate to have in a home filled with love, not hate. Eventually they will probably learn that word but it won't be from us or under our roof."

Hermione leaned up to kiss him. They were both less tense than they were when their discussion began at the door.

"No, wife, it is my job to kiss you good morning."

Rabastan kissed her again with a little more feeling. It felt like all was well between them again.