Chapter 10

"Hermione, Hermione!"

Somebody was calling her name and shaking her, and she just wanted whoever it was to go away, but they were persistent. She batted one hand in the direction of the voice, but it didn't help, it continued to call her name. Finally accepting that the person wasn't going to leave her to sleep in peace, she blinked, and glared at the source of the annoyance. Harry was standing over her looking rather amused.

"What's going on?" She wondered aloud.

"I was in your kitchen trying to scrounge up some breakfast- you need to do your shopping, by the way- and I heard the floo sound. I went to answer it to let the person know that I was going to let you have a bit of a lie-in and it was Malfoy," he suddenly grew more serious, "he couldn't disconnect the call fast enough. I think he jumped to conclusions, seeing me here so early, dressed like this," he gestured to the boxers and undershirt he was wearing. "You should probably go call him back."

"Damn it," she cursed softly.

She threw on a robe and pulled her hair back as she ran to the fireplace. She connected the floo and requested that it return the last call. After a few moments Draco answered, kneeling in front of his own floo, and she could see Scorpius playing in the background.

"Granger," he greeted coolly.

So, she thought, it was going to be like that. She blew out a breath to cool her own temper.

"Why did you disconnect the call before Harry could come get me?" She asked innocently. Though she was sure she already knew the answer to that question, she was going to make him admit it.

His face was impassive, but his eyes flashed with what she thought was disbelief, and more than a little anger.

"I didn't want to interrupt," he said, his voice having gone from cool to frigid.

She felt a frisson of irritation, but she slapped it down brutally. Because she couldn't pretend that if she'd called him this morning and found a woman in her underwear- no matter who it was- that she wouldn't have been upset as well.

"Let me come through," she surprised herself by saying.

"What?" He asked incredulously.

"Let. Me. Come. Through." She enunciated each word forcefully.

"Why?"

"Because I want to talk to you and I don't want to do it on my knees with my head in the fire," she rolled her eyes.

"Fine," he said sharply, "I'll adjust my wards and let you know when it's clear."

A few minutes later, after performing a breath-freshening charm, but not stalling any further for vanity's sake, she was stepping into a well appointed sitting room. The decor was opulent, which was no surprise, but she thought it was rather fussy and didn't fit Draco. However, her attention was quickly pulled from the furnishings. The wizard in question was standing in front of her, looming really, and looking at her menacingly.

It seemed the Draco she'd gone to Hogwarts with had finally made a reappearance. She would have recognized that sneer anywhere. But he hadn't intimidated her then; did he really think he could do it now? She huffed in annoyance. And yet, as she really took in the sight of him before her, she couldn't help the smirk that started to overtake her face.

She'd never seen him anything less than immaculately put together, even last week in the apothecary when he'd been so frazzled. But now he stood before her in black silk pajama pants and a dark grey shirt that clung to his chest. His hair was sleep ruffled and he had a day's worth of stubble. It was adorable, and sexy, and she couldn't help but think that he'd apparently been so anxious to talk to her when he woke up that he'd not even brushed his hair.

No wonder he was so put out with her. If she'd been entertaining another man, he'd feel absolutely humiliated after being so forthright with her.

And she knew that with each moment that she just stood there staring that she was severely testing the limits of his pride and, with that, his temper. So, as much as she would have enjoyed just standing there looking at him, she pulled herself together.

"I know how that looked," she began.

"You know how what looked, Granger?" He snapped.

She gestured back towards the floo. "Harry standing in my flat in his underwear at… what time is it anyway?"

"Eight," he said, jaw clenched.

"Right." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "But I assure you that it was all perfectly innocent. Something upsetting happened yesterday and he thought that I might not want to be alone last night. He just kept me company. He slept in the guest room." She paused, licking her lips as she considered how to explain her relationship with her best friend. "As much as I love Harry, I love him like a brother. He feels the same way. There never has been, nor will there ever be anything romantic between us. He feels at home in my flat, he was looking for the makings of breakfast, and I know the underwear thing is weird, but we lived in a tent together for nearly a year, we're comfortable together. That doesn't make it sexual," she made a sound of disgust and shook herself. "Believe me, it's not."

He still looked rather dubious.

Well, actions spoke louder than words; so, she gathered her Gryffindor courage, closed the space between them, hooked her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. She'd intended only to make a point, and was completely unprepared for the passion she was met with. There was simply no pulling away.

As first kisses went, it was amazing. She was usually rather nervous and things were at least slightly awkward, but the intensity of their chemistry seemed to override that, even though he'd been so angry with her only moments before.

Actually, considering the fierceness with which he kissed her back, it may have partially been because he'd been so angry with her. When he began to pepper her jawline with kisses she automatically tilted her head back to give him better access. It was only when she felt his hands on the bare skin of her lower back, having apparently snuck under her shirt, that she was jolted back to reality.

"Draco," she gasped.

"Hmmm," he murmured not even removing his lips from the the soft skin below her ear- she absentmindedly noted that she'd need to check for marks later.

"Draco, we have to stop," she said a little more firmly.

That got his attention. He pulled away just far enough so that she could see his expression and how ridiculous he thought that statement to be. His lips were swollen, his hair even more ruffled than it had been when she arrived, and his pale complexion was slightly flushed; it was enough for her to almost forget her objection.

"Why?" He asked.

"Scorpius is in the room," she said when her brain finally re-engaged.

"So? He's eight months old, he doesn't have any idea what's going on, and I wasn't planning on taking this so far that he would see anything inappropriate anyway."

He went back to his work on her neck and again she tried to grasp onto a coherent thought.

"Also," she scrambled, "you're tall and it's beginning to make my neck sore, having to crane it like this." She blushed and looked away, embarrassed by the absurd thing she'd just said- if he hadn't realized it before, he now knew how completely he'd flustered her. She'd hoped to maintain some dignity.

He just chuckled and before she knew what was happening he'd swung her into his arms, bridal style, and was carrying her across the room.

"Draco!" She screeched, "put me down!"

He shook his head and when they reached a sofa he sank gracefully onto it with her sprawled across his lap.

"Better?" He asked, leaning in to kiss her again.

"Yes," she answered contentedly as he traced her lips with his tongue. She remembered herself and pulled way abruptly. "I mean no. We need to talk."

"Right now?" He said, sounding like a petulant child.

"Yes." She tried very hard to stand firm even as she longed to lean in and kiss him again.

"About what?" He brushed his nose against hers.

She allowed herself to rest her forehead against his. "About what's going on between us."

"I thought I had made my intentions pretty clear," he groused.

She sighed. "I'm sorry," she stroked his chest, so comfortable in his arms but knowing they needed to have this conversation, "but I'm a Gryffindor and I need the words." She began to play with the hem of his shirt. "I know that's kind of unfair to ask of you, so I'll go first." She took a deep breath, but couldn't look him in the eyes. "I like you," she huffed out a laugh, knowing it was an understatement, "a lot, more than I was willing to admit until yesterday, and that's because this scares me." She took another breath and he massaged the base of her spine soothingly, she melted further into his embrace. "There are a couple of reasons for that: The first is that I already feel very… attached to you, and we've only even been talking for a week. I don't know what that means, and I'm not very good at not knowing things.

"Hermione Granger? Not good at something? No?!" He joked, even as he continued to hold her like she was something precious and treasured.

She was so happy for the reprieve, for the understanding and she chuckled and pressed her forehead more firmly against his. "The second is that because of who we are a lot of people are going to have a problem with the idea of us in a relationship. Now, I've gotten pretty good at ignoring people's opinions unless it's somebody that I care about, but I want to make sure you've thought this through and can deal with the consequences. Andromeda said that the flowers meant that you were serious, but I just need to make sure," she finished, sounding a little desperate to her own ears.

"My aunt knows about this?" He asked, though he didn't seem upset, merely curious.

Hermione nodded. "Courtney saw my parents on Friday night and told them all about our little encounter." She rolled her eyes. "They asked me about it when they got to Harry's yesterday, Andromeda was there at the time."

Draco pulled back to look at her, he was frowning, his eyes troubled. "Well, she's right, it would have been an unthinkable breach in etiquette for me to send you those arrangements if I wasn't serious. Furthermore, I wouldn't toy with you like that," he said, sounding slightly hurt.

She shrugged. "That's just one difference in our upbringings. In the muggle world flowers are just flowers. They are pretty or they aren't, the sender isn't held to the meanings. In fact, I'm sure that most muggles aren't aware that flower arrangements can even carry meaning."

He seemed to consider this. "But you understand now?" He clarified.

She nodded.

"That also means that I never would have sent them, or done any of the things I've done this week, actually, unless I'd given this situation serious thought. Remember, I have a son to consider in all of this too. I'm already quite attached to you as well. So, at least we're on the same page. And I know that a lot of people aren't going to like this, but Hermione, " he gave her waist a little squeeze to encourage her to look him in the eye. "You're considered a hero. Have you really considered what it will be like to be seen in public with me? Astoria was called a Death Eater whore on more than one occasion, and it'll be worse for you. Can you handle that?" He challenged. "I won't drag you into this unless you've really thought about it."

She took a deep breath and reconsidered the things she couldn't help but mull over during the past couple of nights when her brain had wandered to 'what if.' When she'd forced herself to think about whether she was willing to put herself, and almost everything she had, on the line for this 'maybe.' Her heart had out voiced her logic at every turn; it was an unprecedented, disconcerting series of revelations and yet, even that hadn't dissuaded her.

And so she gathered thoughts and prepared to be as honest with him as he'd apparently been with her.

"I know. I know many people will consider my decision to be with you a betrayal. But most of the people close to me already know, and they support me. That's what matters. I'm used to name calling and shunning. And, I may be considered a hero but that hasn't stopped the whispers. I still get called a mudblood. People still question my abilities, they just do it more quietly than they used to. And Draco- this is important- because there will be places, sections of society, a society that you're very much a part of where I will never be welcome. Can you handle that?" She challenged right back.

She was shocked when he didn't hesitate to answer her.

"I was a pariah after the war. This can't be harder than that was. And this, I think, will be worth it," he looked at her and she could only describe the quirk of his lips and expression in his eyes to be adoring.

She allowed herself a small smile and cuddled against his shoulder. If he was looking at her like that then maybe there really was hope for them.

"What about your parents?" She asked quietly, unable to face him as she spoke.

He sighed. "I love my parents, but I cannot continue to allow their opinions to control my decisions, doing so has caused me a lot of pain. I married Astoria simply because they wished me to take a proper wife. I won't make that same mistake again. I'm prepared to stand up to them about you. And no, they won't like it, but they're not really in any position to make a fuss. Their position in society is too precarious. If they publicly shun me for seeing you they'll never recover, and while I don't relish in that idea, I will not shield them anymore, not at the expense of my own happiness, and of Scorpius'."

She sighed and stroked the hair at the nape of his neck as she held him to her. "You're a wonderful father."

He laughed. "That's the best compliment I've ever been given.'

"It's well earned." She glanced at the happy baby on the floor, the baby who so easily could have been left in the care of another. There was a long pause and Hermione could practically feel Draco absorbing her praise.

"I'm not going to lie," he eventually began speaking again. "I wasn't planning on telling them anytime soon, I want us to be solid before they have the opportunity to start shaking things up."

She suddenly felt a small hand on her leg and looked down to see Scorpius grinning toothily at them.

"Well, hello, darling boy, did I come over and ignore you? I'm sorry, that was terribly rude of me," she cooed.

She reached out to run a hand through his hair and watched in amazement as he placed both hands on the top of the sofa cushion, gripped it, and pulled himself into a standing position. Then, once he was upright, butted his head against her extended hand, demanding her attention.

"Look at you!" She exclaimed. "When did you learn to do that? You weren't doing that the other night!" She turned to his father. "Draco, when did he start-" she stopped talking abruptly when she saw the expression on Draco's face.

"Was that the first time?" She whispered reverently.

He nodded vigorously, staring at his son in amazement. She scrambled off of his lap and he reached down and picked Scorpius up, plopping him between them on the couch.

"Well done mate," he ruffled his hair affectionately, "showing off for Hermione, eh?"

The baby reached out and slapped a hand against each of their thighs excitedly, laughing and kicking his feet. Hermione's heart swelled with joy that she'd been present for a milestone such as this. She could only hope it was the first of many she'd witness. She wanted to scoop him up and smother him with kisses, but she didn't want to hog him. This was a big moment for Draco too.

"Well I'm very impressed," she settled for tickling his stomach when Draco remained silent and seemingly frozen in place. "You're such a clever boy, you know exactly what you just did, don't you? Showing us your new trick. Clever, clever boy, and at only eight months!" She gushed, smiling at him, and he grinned back.

Besotted as she was by the child, she was convinced that he understood exactly what she was saying. She looked up and grinned at Draco but he was just staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly he leaned over and kissed her. It was brief but intense, and she could feel the emotions rolling off of him. When he finished he simply rested his forehead against hers, the baby wriggling happily between them.

"I've always been alone," he confessed huskily. "When he does something new, there's never been anybody to share it with."

Her heart went out to him and she began to think about how lonely he must have been since the end of his Hogwarts days, when he'd gone from the heralded prince of the dungeons to a reviled Death Eater. As he described it his own parents were cold and distant, his wife had been uninterested and unaffectionate. She knew he had a myriad of employees and associates but she was beginning to think he had few, if any, actual friends. How isolating it must be not to have a confidant.

She didn't know what she'd do without Harry, George, and many others. But then she had to wonder if that was something he'd ever had in his life. If even at Hogwarts there had been anyone who was interested in him for himself and not for his family name, his money, his good looks, even his impressive brain- he'd always appeared to have followers rather than friends. Now he had his wonderful son, but that wasn't the same. It was amazing the good man she saw in him ever had a chance to come to the surface. She leaned forward and gently cradled the back of his head in one hand.

"I'll be here, if you'll let me," she said gruffly. And she knew that she'd laid herself bare with that confession, that her Gryffindor nature had shown through. One look in her eyes and he'd know how deeply she already was in with them.

He regarded her closely for a moment and she willed herself not to look away, she refused to feel ashamed. And so she saw his eyes clear, his expression brighten with such hope that she felt tears spring to her eyes.

"So, we're doing this then?" He clarified.

She didn't need to hesitate, she'd decided days ago- even if she hadn't known it- that he was worth it. She just nodded, unable to suppress a grin. "I'm in if you are," she promised.

"I'm in" he confirmed.