Author's Note: All disclaimers apply. I do not own the characters contained in this story. They belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Bros. Inc. Also thanks for all of the reviews. They are very inspirational and appreciated! Edited to add credit to Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and her plot from Shanna. This entire disclaimer applies to her work as well.

Chapter 19

Uncomfortable Goodbyes

"There's of course cremation. Families sometimes like to spread their loved one's ashes over their favorite piece of land or display them in an ornamental urn," the proprietor of the funeral parlor remarked with a serene and placating smile.

Suddenly an image of two urns underneath the Malfoy family crest on the mantle came to Hermione, and she couldn't help but think how out of sorts such a sight would be. The manor itself would probably magically implode if the remains of two Muggles were stored for too long beneath its roof. Raising weary eyes to the eager salesman, for that's what he was really and making a mint at what he did selling the more ornate coffins and urns that he was spouting on and on about, she answered him quietly. "Like I've said, I think three times, two caskets, the white with gold trim. Satin inside and plush cushions."

"Yes, but the urns…"

"My wife made her decision," Draco snapped impatiently. Dealing with over zealous Muggles was difficult enough. Having to deal with either deaf or extremely ignorant ones was beyond aggravating.

"Yes, but…"

"Mr. Rafferty please, just the two caskets and a quiet service at the local chapel. My parents were patrons there and the vicar has promised to say a few words at the gravesite." Draco was already standing, and Hermione was grateful for the rude gesture of simply leaving the man talking to thin air and stood as well. "Thank you."

Having had a decent night's sleep Hermione was more sure in her steps and the pain was becoming a memory. They strode hurriedly from the parlor and back onto the streets of the town near her parent's estate. She noticed Draco turning his nose up in revulsion more than once at the honking cars, smoke and exhaust that they emanated, but to his credit he hadn't outwardly complained much, at least not since that morning before they had left the manor.

Reacquiring his money and means Draco automatically resumed dressing and grooming himself to the hilt as always, but wearing long flowing robes while walking Muggle streets simply wasn't done. In the end he let her win that fight only because Hermione knew he was afraid of upsetting her. She didn't care about the small advantage she had in that respect, and d dressed herself in a casual black skirt white blouse and black jacket.

"Well, you've been to see the vicar and that charlatan at the parlor, so do you suppose we could wrap this up with that barrister of yours Hetherington?" Draco asked, his impatience with the day finally beginning to show.

"Yes, he's meeting us at the estate. You know, things would have been easier if Aunt June hadn't decided to leave us her money I think." Hermione sighed, and hailed a driver to take them into the country. "It's only brought more aggravation than anything else."

"You didn't make out so terrible for inheriting from that eccentric aunt of yours," Draco said, somewhat defensively.

Hermione crawled into the back of the car and gave the indifferent driver directions to her parent's home. Patiently she waited for Draco to follow, and he did, but obviously disgusted that he would be traveling in a Muggle conveyance. "Well, I didn't put it to very good use or so you've told me. Starting S.P.E.W. and then the shop to mask the organization."

"Though that's true I'm not sorry she left you the money and the terms attached." Draco turned to frown at her, angling for her to catch his true meaning.

With small sigh Hermione reached out and took his hand, leaning back into the seat. "I suppose not, but I'm dreading the terms of the will my parents left. They had to follow June's instructions to the letter even in the event of their deaths."

"You suppose not?" he said trying to maintain a mild stance of aggravation but squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Do you really think that aunt of yours would have gone so far as to make anymore outlandish requests?"

"Honestly, I think that woman was capable of anything."

They'd held the service quietly with a few local friends in attendance. The Weasley family had come, and even Harry had stood at Ginny's side. When the vicar finished, and took his leave, along with the majority of the mourners, Molly and Arthur came and hugged Hermione, each whispering reassurances.

"We've always thought of you as a daughter, really expected you to marry into the family someday," Arthur said, but felt a cold pair of grey eyes glaring into his skull. Realizing what he had said in front of the girl's husband he coughed once, and straightened extending a hand to Draco. "Thank you, for helping Hermione. My wife and I weren't sure how we could find a way to solve the matter with Percy. He's become obsessed with his job I'm afraid."

Draco studied the elder man and contemplated not taking the proffered hand. It didn't matter that he had always thought in school that Hermione would someday breed an abnormal amount of Weasels with Ron, but having her as his wife and listening to the father of the other man didn't set well. However, the day was difficult enough for Hermione so rather than make a spectacle he shook Arthur's hand and nodded.

"Truly, thank you," Molly Weasley whispered bravely reaching out to pat Draco's arm. "I know there's been a lot to pass before us all, your father's hatred of our family was well known, but I would like to think we could put some things behind us."

They were doing this for Hermione's benefit, and Draco knew it, but there wasn't any harm in playing along, so he nodded again. His wife was shivering at his side, and the snow that had starting falling halfway through the service was steadily blanketing the ground. When Arthur released him and took his wife's arm Draco turned to ask Hermione if she was ready to leave when Harry, Ginny, and Ron strode forward. Immediately he stiffened and prepared for the onslaught. They weren't going to let it pass that he had simply walked away with their friend that day at the hospital. He wasn't however, going to let them resort to a quarrel on today of all days.

"Malfoy," Ron acknowledge politely. "Mione' we're so sorry," he whispered and immediately drew her close for a hug and to kiss her cheek.

Fighting back a stab of jealously Draco gave his attention to Harry and Ginny each wearing distinctly different expressions. Harry looked ready to openly declare war and Ginny was studying him as though it were a test, make one error or remark that could upset Hermione and he would fail miserably. "Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to Hermione," Draco said evenly, knowing that civility would be better here than outright disrespect.

"Did you think we wouldn't be here? She's our friend and has been for a good number of years," Harry retorted, his own spine stiffening and his green eyes already flashing. "You've fooled her for the time being but eventually she'll see you for the bastard you are and come back to us where she'll always be welcome."
Unconsciously Draco's fingers curled around his wand shrunken to fit in the pocket of his trousers as again his wife had denied him the right to wear his robes. "Not here and not today Potter."

"Malfoy's right," Ginny said softly. "We're here for Hermione. The both of you can duel and hex one another some other time."

Having stepped away from Hermione Ron sighed hearing Harry's immediate attempt to bait Malfoy into a fight. He would have liked nothing better than to hex or curse the smug prat himself, but upsetting Hermione simply couldn't be done today. "Let's not be hasty Harry. Gin's right, there's time enough to reopen old wounds later. Mione, if you need anything never hesitate to ask," Ron told her, gently squeezing her shoulder before following his parents away.

"Ginny, Harry, thank you for coming," Hermione finally spoke, afraid that if she didn't Harry would continue to taunt her husband.

"I would have come to see you sooner, but I was detained a bit," Ginny remarked, and threw a scathing glare over her shoulder at Harry while embracing Hermione.

"No, don't be sorry. That manor's a mess really, and I haven't been to the shop to close up or move my things," Hermione explained, pulling away to brush a few more tears from her cheeks. A few more minutes and she could Apparate home with Draco. Just a few more minutes and everyone would leave and it would all be over.

"I don't know what to say Hermione," Harry whispered, hugging her tightly and she knew he understood more than anyone that day what she was feeling. He'd lost both of his parents in a violent attack and he knew the pain of being an orphan.

"Thank you for coming," she whispered back, holding him just as fiercely. "I know we've been at odds, but I really needed you here today."

"I'm always here for you Mione'. Even if the choices you make sometimes confuse me to know end," Harry said dryly, and unable to refrain from casting a dark glance in Draco's direction.

Fred and George came next after Ginny and Harry walked away, and to her relief they were the last. Waiting patiently for the area around them to grow quiet and sparse Hermione walked over to the twin caskets poised to be lowered into the ground. She brought her fingers to her lips and then placed them over each one lingeringly before turning back to Draco and nodding silently. Scanning the landscape once more to make certain they wouldn't be noticed Draco took her hands in his when he was satisfied at finding no one observing them and Apparated them home.

There wasn't anything else to do. The day before they'd transferred the Muggle funds left behind by the Grangers into galleons and various accounts at Gringotts. Luckily, there hadn't been too many surprises in the will and the only strange part was that Hermione's money couldn't be transferred upon her death to her surviving husband. Again, Aunt June was strict on the matter that only Hermione's children benefit or if she never produced a child then the money would go to charity of her choice.

"That being the case, so you don't throw more good money after bad to those elves I'll have to make certain you produce children," Draco had remarked after hearing the barrister explain the terms.

"Eager are you?" she teased back, smiling for the first time. "Thinking I'll be departing this earth so soon and might leave it all to the elves if I'm not a mother?"

The moment of humor had disappeared quickly and Draco shook his head. "Don't talk like that." He'd said nothing else, but Hermione wisely realized how terrible it sounded in hindsight.

Recalling the brief conversation just a day before Hermione watched Draco walk off in the direction of the kitchens to instruct the elves as to what to prepare for dinner. He made no mistake that he was much happier having his more extravagant meals and wines than her meager attempts at cooking. Frankly, though she'd never admit to it, the last two days had been rather nice. She hadn't lifted a finger for a thing, and each meal was meticulously prepared. Knowing the elves, Franny and Auggy, were receiving wages made her feel better, not good, but better about having to rely on them for certain needs.

Upstairs Hermione looked at the small clock near the bed seeing it read around five in the afternoon. Still, in the same place she'd left it was the family album that she had retrieved from her parents' house, and sitting next to it purring loudly was Crookshanks. The furry beast had been living with her parents since school ended, having been more content to lounge in front of the sunroom window box than travel or research with Hermione. He didn't seem to have any trouble adapting to the manor however, having claimed the upstairs master bedroom as his own, and Draco surprisingly was lenient enough to overlook the stray cat hair that had accumulated on the bedcovers.

That was also infuriating. At first Hermione didn't care that Draco let her win every small skirmish since bringing her to the manor. Even at dinner he relented to whatever she wanted to eat, save for today, but she suspected he'd be up in a moment to ask if what he was having prepared suited her. He was treating her like a china doll about to crumble into a million pieces as the first harsh word or disagreement. True, she was glad Draco showed restraint when Harry had paid his respects, but she didn't want him delicately walking around as though she wasn't strong enough to withstand his normally brusque manner.

As annoying as Draco's blatantly blunt opinions were, and his penchant for making one see the truth even when it was painful, it was something Hermione loved about him. No one else challenged her like that, or had ever tried. It was refreshing. Now he walked around on eggshells and to make the situation worse despite his assertions that her small scratches and scars didn't bother him, he hadn't touched her in anyway except to offer comfort. Draco had never been one to deny himself and she'd learned that well in the few weeks they'd lived together above her shop. Either she no longer appealed to him and he had only been trying to be generous by saying she was still attractive, or he was pitying her and had gotten tired of her in bed.

Both of those suppositions were degrading and Hermione didn't like the implications either one offered. She could try and entice him tonight she guessed, but she wasn't sure how to do that really. Draco had always been eager and initiated anything between them, and though she participated readily she hadn't ever been forced to use persuasion in any sense. So, she decided to go about things the only way she knew how. After all, since the night Draco had told her the story of what happened in the Astronomy Tower she hadn't dreamed about him so vividly as she had before. Therefore she didn't even have those moments in her sleep to comfort her.

As though sensing her thoughts Draco appeared, polite as ever by knocking on his own bedroom door before entering. "I told the elves to fix something light tonight, a small tray of doves and fresh vegetables. Will that be all right?"

Grimacing to herself Hermione nodded silently, and began to slip her jacket off, carelessly casting it to the floor. She watched Draco out of the corner of her eyes sling his own coat and constricting suit jacket over the back of a chair before walking over to start a fire. Outwardly ignoring him, she didn't continue to undress in the bathroom and made certain to walk stark naked over to the wardrobe to retrieve a casual sweater and pants to dress in later. Slowly making her way to the bathroom, Hermione paused at the door sweetly smiling. "Thank you for being civil to Harry and the others today. It meant a lot."

"As much as having Potter there," Draco snapped, and Hermione knew he hadn't been able to contain the anger in spite of himself. He had been jealous, and dangerously so when Ron had hugged her after Arthur's offhanded remarks. She hadn't understood that it was her reaction to Harry that gave him the most pause.

"His parents died in a similar manner," she said. "There's no reason I wouldn't have felt better with him there."

"Ah, yes, Potter can still do no wrong, and magnanimously offered to let you back into the fold when I prove to be wicked and inconsiderate," Draco drawled, derisively. "I'm surprised you didn't agree with Arthur Weasley and let his Weasel son take you away when he was pawing you earlier."

"Well, it was always assumed Ron and I would end up together," Hermione said, thoughtfully twisting her head to the side. "Things don't always turn out the way people expect I suppose. People always thought you'd marry Pansy Parkinson, but after you left school she turned to Zabini and from all accounts they're still together. Also, he wasn't pawing me. A friendly hug is hardly overstepping certain bounds."

"Did you always assume you'd marry the Weasel?"

"Yes," Hermione answered truthfully. "So did you when we were younger I'm sure."

"Assumptions lead to incorrect conclusions," he muttered, staring into the flames of the fire.

"It's nice to know that I have something to fall back on though and that I have family to turn to since I've lost my own parents now," she said wistfully, somewhat meaning it but also only wanting to see his reaction. It was dangerous to pick a fight with him at any time but if it made him look at her as an equal again it would be worth it.

"What exactly does that mean?" Draco was glaring, not trying to hide is displeasure or confusion. "You aren't thinking of taking Potter up on his offer to save you from your fate as a Malfoy are you?"

"Not right now, but if in the future I would need a place to go he'll be there for me," Hermione whispered, and started to walk into the bathroom. "No matter what our differences Harry's like a brother to me and we can count on one another for support."

Closing the door Hermione filled the massive tub and happily poured a fragrant soap into the water to create frothy bubbles. To her disappointment Draco didn't pursue the conversation, and so she stepped into the hot bubble bath, intent on relaxing and easing some of the aches from that day. She didn't want to think about the two caskets that held her parents or how desolate the two holes in the ground seemed. She'd cried for them and she'd etched the memories of every photo she could find from every album in the past two days into her brain. For the moment she wanted to forget the funeral, the headstone with their names upon it, and the pain that came with their loss.

Staying in just long enough to feel tranquil and calm she had wrapped a robe around herself and was using her wand to perform a drying spell on her hair as she opened the bathroom door. Standing in the doorway Draco glared down at her arms crossed over a bare chest. "I'm sick of having to ask this, but does Potter mean more to you than your own husband? You might as well admit to it now if he does."

"If you have to ask then you don't know how I feel at all," Hermione said, and tried to push past him.

Barring her path, Draco didn't even budge when she collided with him. "I thought I was certain, but you're deliberately making me wonder aren't you?"

"No more than I wonder why all of a sudden you're afraid to talk to me, touch me, anything," she replied, more harshly than she had intended. Well, she had put her feelings plainly out there now and she could only wait to see how he reacted.

"Forgive me for trying to be kind and give you the time you needed to grieve. Would you prefer Saint Potter or the Weasel then?"

This was getting her somewhere and it felt good to see him starting to treat her normally. Draco's silvery eyes were flashing and though he had returned to severely slicking his hair back aristocratically it was a bit more unruly now adding to his displeased attitude. "No, I want you to stop acting as though I'm feeble and pitiful."
"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" He was shouting and she welcomed it. Hermione didn't want a full-blown war to begin over Harry, far from it, but anything was better than having Draco pat her on the head and tuck her in for the night like a child. "Giving you time to adjust to a new home…"

"Which you never even asked if I wanted to live in anyway," Hermione interrupted and couldn't resist baiting him further."

Draco's arms fell to his sides and his fists clenched. "I told you how things would be when we no longer had to keep our marriage a secret. I made it perfectly clear where and how we would live. The manor isn't in the best condition but I never took you for one to care much for appearances. After all that Burrow was always enough for you before. Do you miss it now?"

"You've missed the point," Hermione sighed, and tried to make her way through the door again.

"Then explain yourself." With both arms braced on either side of the doorway her husband's glare grew more intense.

"I don't even know what I mean. I'm going downstairs." Hermione sighed again, deciding she was rubbish at getting her own way where Draco was concerned.

He let her pass this time and she felt his intense gaze on her back as she carried her outfit from the bathroom and laid it on the bed intending to dress. Hermione had begun to loosen the sash of her robe when Draco spoke again, still standing by the bathroom door. "Do you think you're healed completely now? It's been a few days since you were released."

The answer was yes. Hermione only felt a few twinges here or there, nothing significant, but she only shrugged angry tears stinging her eyes. For the first months when he had come back into her life she had wanted him to leave her alone and now when he did she couldn't stand it. Irony was not something she appreciated at the moment. Glancing down on the bed she noticed the jumper she had chosen looked too worn and faded. Though it was only Draco at dinner the manor itself seemed to suggest one look their best at all times.

Crossing back over to the wardrobe Hermione started sifting through the meager assortment of clothing Neville and Draco had hastily packed. Not many things matched. Actually nothing did, but they had tried so that was admirable. Grabbing another jumper, nearly the same style as the first it fell from her hands when she was hauled back into Draco's large frame. "Since you're being so vague I'll take that as a yes," she heard him say against her ear and couldn't repress a shiver as his breath fell heatedly over her skin.

"What are you doing?" It was a ridiculous question really and Hermione had learned when he was merely teasing her and when he was intent on appeasing their need for one another.

"Did you think I didn't know what you were about parading around like that before?" Running his tongue over the shell of her ear and then biting the where her shoulder and neck net met his grip around her waist tightened. "Instead of arguing all you had to do was ask."

Hermione let him push her towards a marble table near the windows meant for enjoying a private brunch. "I don't know what you mean?" she whispered, as innocently as possible, but hating secretly that she was so transparent.

Her robe fell away with ease and she leaned her neck to the side as Draco's lips found hers and began to probe the inside of her mouth with his tongue. There was nothing gentle about him at the moment and Hermione wondered if some of what she had said disturbed him. She hadn't meant it, and she had no intention of leaving him for any reason. To attempt and prove she wanted him just as much she tried to twist to face him.

"Don't bait me using Potter again," Draco rasped into her ear, hands coming up to massage her breasts and almost painfully pinch her nipples. "We had this discussion once before. I believe it ended the same way. I told you before that I wouldn't let Potter take away the only thing the mattered to me. I love you and Potter isn't going to win this time."

"Well?" he asked harshly, shaking her slightly. "You aren't going to say anything?"

Somehow managing to turn herself just enough to see his face Hermione couldn't keep the smile that appeared along with stray tears of surprise and delight. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Thank you! I've never said those words to another living soul and you simply say thank you?"

"Thank you very much," she said, unable to resist. For the first time in a week the beginning glimpses of happiness were returning and she didn't want to end the conversation just yet.

"Tease," he snapped, and hurriedly pushed her legs further apart with knees. "You'll tell me what I want to hear," he said smugly.

Later completely sated Hermione was throwing her head back on Draco's shoulder, gasping for breath. On the verge of whispering what he had been determined to extract from her she was turning, but not of her own accord. Her lethargic body was being lifted onto the table and she was suddenly staring into lazy, but lust filled eyes. "I'm waiting." Draco stepped between her knees tilting her face back between his hands.

"You didn't have to say that yet. I know you really aren't ready," Hermione murmured, pushing a stray lock of blond hair from his brow.

"I never do or say anything I don't want to," Draco assured her, growing serious and needing to hear her return his declaration. Something that he was beginning to realize was he wasn't pathetic for loving her. Actually when Hermione stood at his side and openly chose him before the world he was stronger somehow. That was the true risk of weakness, never letting yourself experience the softer emotions and losing those opportunities when they presented themselves.

"I love you," Hermione said, a little hesitantly, suddenly shy and unsure, not of her feelings, but that by hearing the words aloud he might retreat and wish he'd kept silent. Laying herself so open she couldn't bear it if, afterward, he withdrew the statement, unable to freely admit to such a naked emotion.

"Thank you," he intoned dryly, throwing her words back at her insolently.

Eye widening, Hermione lunged at him, all tender thoughts and intentions to protect his pride and ego forgotten. "Here I was afraid you were nervous to talk about love or anything that resembled it," she snapped, furiously shoving at his chest.

Easily defending himself from her blows Draco caught her wrists in his hand and wrapped his free arm around her waist to restrain her. "Not quite as amusing being on the receiving end is it?" He had playfully smiled at her briefly but that had disappeared. "I meant what I said, don't use Potter against me. What is between us doesn't concern him and never will. I won't be placed second to him either. I'm aware that both he and that Weasley are important to you but I won't compete with them."

"I'm not asking you to," Hermione replied, frowning and wondering if she had gone too far and made him question her loyalty.

Visibly relaxing Draco sighed once, and lifted her down from the table. "This isn't going to be easy, I'm aware of that. There isn't any love lost between myself, and Potter especially. However, you chose me and if he can't respect that I won't have you worrying about his opinion and rethinking our vows."

"You could tell Harry what really happened," she suggested, softly pressing herself against him and laying her cheek on his chest.

"No," he snarled harshly pulling away and stepping back several steps. "I won't lower myself to beg for Potter's forgiveness, not even for you. Leave it alone, Hermione. That night is over and what came after can't be undone."

Nodding silently Hermione padded over the carpet snatching her fallen jumper from the floor and intending to dress herself. Pushing him to reconcile his past with Harry would get her nowhere, and Harry was as likely to fight making amends as Draco. Starting to slip a bra strap over her shoulder to have it flicked out of her hand and somewhere behind her.

"What?" Draco asked, none too innocently when she threw him a slightly disgruntled glance over her shoulder.

"What about dinner?" Not that she cared as he was easing her back onto the bed, his continued objective obvious.

"It won't be served for awhile and besides isn't this taking your mind off of what's taken place recently?"

Smiling up at him Hermione opened her thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck relishing the feel of his body covering her own. "Yes." Nothing could make her forget how painful the last few days had been, but if she could focus on something else for a little while it made coping that much easier.

"Then be a willing participant and kiss your husband," Draco ordered, ruining the superior command by smiling at how readily she complied.