"You both sit there for a minute while I check with the healers to be sure it's a good time for us to go in," Ginny said as she pointed to chairs in the waiting area down the corridor from Hermione's room.

Rose and Hugo obediently went and sat down, both still more than a little worried over what had happened to their mother even with their aunt's reassurance that she was okay even though she hadn't woken up yet. The two Aurors assigned to protect the children took up sentry positions in the hall.

Ginny disappeared towards their mother's room and the two siblings sat waiting.

Rose saw a well dressed older woman approach the Auror standing guard in the corridor, she spoke with him for a moment then turned with a pleasant smile and came and sat in the empty chair next to Rose.

The woman didn't say anything but arraigned herself daintily in the chair with her ankles crossed and her hands calmly in her lap.

Rose looked at the witch's shoes, they were beautiful dark green button up shoes with a pointed toe and very high curved heels. There were all sorts of swirls and designs embossed into the leather and were, without a doubt, the prettiest shoes Rose had ever seen.

So being a friendly and outspoken child, she told the lady so.


Narcissa had seen the two children sitting in the waiting room when she entered the corridor. After verifying that Draco and Ginny were in with the healers, she smiled at the young Aurors who were so politely doing their duty and went and sat down in the empty chair next to Hermione's eldest.

She didn't look at them or speak to them, thinking that the Aurors most likely wouldn't take kindly to her doing so, regardless of their friendly nature. At least she didn't until a confident little voice that had all the makings of her mother said to her, "I like your shoes. They're very pretty."

Narcissa turned to face Rose and saw the genuineness of the girls remark written plainly all over her face. She was as guileless as her mother. Narcissa smiled warmly at the girl. "Thank you. They are some of my favorites."

"Are they hard to walk in?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Not anymore. I've had many years of practice. I actually started practicing about your age, in fact. I had gotten my first pair which were not even half this high and I would walk for hours up and down the hallways of our family home and round and round my bedroom until I could walk in them without turning my ankles."

"My mum doesn't wear shoes anywhere near that high."

"Many witches don't. Your mother is a busy woman and always on the go, I can understand her not wanting to wear something too high or too uncomfortable." Narcissa had always thought that Hermione dressed rather plainly, always appropriately, but quite simply, for function and not fashion and that there was nothing wrong with that in her eyes in the grand scheme of propriety. Narcissa had to admit that Hermione did always look quite lovely at formal events, wearing becoming colors and gowns that were tasteful and not scandalous or immodest in any way. And she remembered photographs Draco had shown her from the Yule Ball their fourth year where Hermione had stunned everyone with her unexpected transformation. She had been a vision of a daughter any mother would have been quite proud of.

Rose picked up on the fact that Narcissa knew who her mother was. "You know my mother?"

Narcissa nodded, "Yes, she went to school with my son."

"May I ask, who is your son?"

Narcissa hesitated for the briefest of moments, Rose was old enough to know about the war and all the key players of which Draco and the Malfoy name featured heavily, before answering. "Draco Malfoy."

As it turned out it was something completely different that young Rose knew him for as she asked, "Scorpius' dad?"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes."

Rose smiled, something else Narcissa didn't expect. "My mum is friends with him. She wrote in her letters that he's building the new part of the hospital. I see pictures of them together in the Daily Prophet when Mum has to go to fancy parties as Minister."

Narcissa nodded. "They go to many of the same events. I've seen the same pictures you're talking about. They always seem to be having fun don't they?"

Rose nodded but before she could reply Hugo quietly asked the question Narcissa had been dreading, "Is he the Draco Malfoy from the war?"

Narcissa paused a moment and didn't know how to answer.

Rose beat her to it. "Of course he is, how many Draco Malfoys do you think Mum went to school with?"

"So he and Mum are friends now? I thought he hated Muggle-borns? Dad said he used make fun of Mum in school and was really mean to her. And that he was a…," Hugo's voice dropped to a whisper, "Death Eater."

Narcissa decided honesty was the best way to go. "All of that is true. But it was also a very long time ago and my son has done a lot of growing up since then. He no longer carries that hate in his heart and does all he can to make up for the things he did during the war. Your mother has forgiven him and they have become good friends."

Hugo thought on all that for a moment when he put another piece together. "That means you are Narcissa Malfoy? The one who lied to Voldemort and saved Uncle Harry."

"I am," Narcissa answered simply, trying not to outwardly cringe at the casual use of the Dark Lord's name. Even after all the years that had passed since his demise, she was still afraid of the dark wizard, something her nightmares could well attest to.

"Do you still hate Muggle-borns?" Rose asked softly.

Narcissa shook her head. "No. Like my son I've done some growing up since the war." She thought to herself that that was a good thing, too, as she was most definitely going to have a granddaughter of mixed blood and, if the look on her son's face was any indication, she would most likely soon have a Muggle-born daughter-in-law. She wondered what Rose and Hugo's reaction would be to finding out the true nature of both Draco and Hermione's relationship as well as the half-sister they had coming. She hoped for all their sakes that it was positive.

Rose thought on that for a moment. "Mum says that we learn and grow our whole lives and that we should never close off our heart or mind to new things."

Narcissa smiled. "Your mother is a wise woman. It's what makes her a good Minister and from the sounds of it, a wonderful mother."

"I'm worried about her. They say she still won't wake up. But they don't know why."

Before Narcissa could answer, Ginny, along with a healer in a crisp white rope came into view in the corridor to Hermione's room.

Ginny shook the healer's hand. "Thank you, Healer Walsh."

The healer nodded and replied, "I'll let you know if anything changes."

She left and Ginny turned to the three in the waiting area.

Narcissa worried briefly if she would be blocking hexes thrown her way for being there and speaking with the Minister's children. But instead found herself the recipient of a little nod and closed mouth smile from Mrs. Potter.

She stood as Ginny approached, keeping her own expression friendly and concerned.

"Mrs. Malfoy."

"Mrs. Potter."

"I saw that you were able to get through to him last night."

Narcissa nodded. "He just needed the right sort of encouragement," she replied as she tilted her head and gestured with her eyes towards the two children. She knew that the other witch would understand. Of all the negative things people could say about Draco, being a bad father was not one of them. He would not have wanted to further traumatize Hermione's already traumatized children.

Ginny nodded, letting Narcissa know she understood. Narcissa then asked, "How is she today?"

"The same, but all her scans are strong so it's still a matter of waiting."

Rose interrupted before Narcissa could reply. "Can we see Mum now, Aunt Ginny?"

Ginny turned her attention to Rose and Hugo. "Yes. But remember what we talked about? That they can't heal her bruises until she wakes up and that she looks a bit frightful?"

Both children nodded and Ginny gestured towards the corridor to Hermione's room. "Alright then, let's go in."

They turned to go when Ginny looked back at Narcissa and said unexpectedly, "You're welcome to join us if you like."

Narcissa wondered what it meant that the other woman was being so friendly, but it didn't stop her from following them towards the room.

Just before they entered the room the familiar face of Harry Potter came into view as he rounded the far corridor corner. With forced lightness he asked, "Can anyone crash this party?"

"Uncle Harry!" Rose exclaimed and flew into his open arms, Hugo soon following.

"Have you been in to see your mum yet?" Harry asked.

It was Ginny who replied. "We were just about to go in."

Harry looked to the children. "Did your Aunt Ginny warn you about the bruises?"

Both children nodded and Harry continued, "Good. C'mon let's go see her."

Harry acknowledged Narcissa with a simple, "Mrs. Malfoy." He didn't question her presence here as Ginny had shared her conversation with the older woman from yesterday with him.

"Mr. Potter," she replied cordially.

Then they all filed into Hermione's room.


Draco stood as the entourage entered the room. He subtly put his wand away not wanting to appear in any way aggressive towards Hermione's children.

Rose rushed to the side of the bed opposite Draco, her face distraught. Her brother Hugo came up beside his sister. Rose went to touch her mother's hand but stopped herself, not knowing if she were allowed.

Softly, before anyone else could say anything, Draco said, "You can touch her, hold her hand if you want. I know she looks frightening at the moment but I promise that they've healed all her injuries except for those bruises."

Rose didn't look away from her mother's battered face but nodded then reached for her mother's hand. She held it gently and whispered, "Mum? Me and Hugo are here. You can wake up now."

Draco was also looking at Hermione's face, hoping against hope that her eyes would open at the sound of her daughter's voice. He tried, but failed, not to be disappointed when it didn't happen. He looked up to see Hugo staring across the bed at him.

"Aunt Ginny said you're the one who found Mum," Hugo stated, still staring at Draco.

"I am and I brought her here straightaway so the healers could work their magic on her," Draco replied evenly.

"Why are you still here?" Hugo asked.

"Because I care about your mother and don't want her to be alone."

When Hugo's, "Even though she's Muggle-born?", was asked quietly the other adults in the room all sucked in an audible breath.

Draco was the only one not unsettled by the question and didn't hesitate to answer. "That's something I don't judge people by any longer, I haven't for a very long time."

"But you did."

"I did. But, it was a long time ago and things were different. I was different. I've done a lot of growing up since the war. This isn't really the time or place to talk about it all, but later on if you like, you, me, and your Uncle Harry can sit down for a long talk and I'll answer all your questions. I promise."

Draco's eyes flicked to Harry and could see that the other man approved of how Draco was handling Hugo. He returned his attention to Hugo and the boy nodded.

Rose's voice added to the mix. "I see you in pictures with mum in the Prophet all the time."

"We go to a lot of the same events covered by the paper."

Rose looked down to her mother's battered face, her lip quivered and her voice was a little shaky as she said, "The last one I saw was the two of you dancing. She was smiling at you and she looked so happy. I haven't seen her smile like that in a long time."

"That must have been the hospital gala. She was happy that night and we both enjoyed ourselves," Draco replied lightly, seeing how close to crying Rose was.

The room was quiet for a long moment before something clicked in Rose's head. Her eyes whipped up to meet Draco's and she said without a hint of doubt, "It's you."

"Excuse me? I don't quite follow," he replied, unsure of where the conversation was heading.

"Mum said in one of her letters that she had started dating someone she really liked but didn't say who. It's you, isn't I?"

Draco's stomach clenched. This was not at all how he wanted Hermione's children to find out about them. He glanced to Harry who gave a minuscule shrug. He refocused on Rose, who was still awaiting his affirmation that she was correct. In that moment Draco decided not to lie or obfuscate with Rose and Hugo. He was anticipating becoming their step-father in the near future and he would not have his relationship with them starting off with untruths. There was nothing wrong or shameful about his relationship with their mother and he wouldn't give them the impression that there was. Finally he nodded and replied confidently, "Yes, it is."

Rose nodded but didn't say a word. Her brother was not so shy and demanded, "Really?" as he stared at Draco.

Draco met the young man's eyes and tried to decipher what he saw there. "Yes, Hugo, for a quite a while now."

Rose asked, "Does Scorpius know?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Your mother and I were waiting until you three were home for the summer for us to sit down and tell all of you."

Hugo looked to his aunt, then his uncle. "You both knew?"

Harry replied gently with a shake of his head, "I found out yesterday."

Ginny took over from Harry. "I've known for a few months but your mum asked me to keep it a secret until she was ready to tell people."

"Does Dad know?" Rose asked, a look of worry on her face.

Harry replied, "He does. He found out when I did."

"He's angry about it isn't he?"

Harry grinned, Rose knew her father well. "He was loud, for sure. He and Mr. Malfoy have never gotten along so it was a bit of shock for your dad. But he'll get over it."

Rose snorted. "It's not really his business is it?"

Before Harry could respond, Draco said softly, "Rose, I know it may be hard to believe after their divorce and everything that happened, but your parents still care about one another. They always will. They just weren't meant to be married any longer, same as Scorpius' mum and I weren't meant to be married any longer either. I will always look out for her, the same as your dad will always look out for your mum. I'm sure that once she wakes up that she will sort out a truce between me and your dad now that he knows we're dating."

Rose sniffed and stared hard at Draco. "Don't you let him muck it up if she's finally happy."

The corner of Draco's mouth quirked up, Rose was Hermione through and through. "I won't, I promise."

Draco's attention was pulled away from Rose when too-perceptive for his own age Hugo said, "You don't care about Mum."

"Hugo!" Ginny admonished.

Hugo turned and faced Ginny and Harry. "What? He doesn't. You care about Quidditch, you care about your grades, you care about breakfast. He doesn't care about Mum," Hugo said emphatically then added, "He loves her. And he should just be honest and say so."

Harry snorted back a laugh. Hugo had all the tact of his father sometimes. Harry sobered quickly at the flat look his wife gave him but it lasted all of a second or two before he chuckled again. He looked to Ginny and shrugged. "Sorry, Gin, but he's right," he said to her then turned to Draco, "Well, Malfoy? Quaffle's in your hands now."

All attention turned towards Draco. He met Hugo's eyes and nodded. "You're right, Hugo, you should never be afraid to say it when you love someone. And I do… love your mother…very, very much."

The collected gasp at his words filled the room. A bit flustered, Draco looked down at Hermione and gently brushed his knuckles across her still cheek. He hoped she would be proud of how he handled things with Rose and Hugo, he had done his veritable best.


A while later, Harry lagged behind as Ginny and Narcissa took the children down to the hospital cafe for something to eat. Rose had surprised them, Narcissa most of all, when she had turned to the older witch and asked plainly, "Are you coming with us, Mrs. Malfoy?"

A quick glance to Ginny let Narcissa know it was completely up to her as to whether or not she accepted the invitation as Ginny simply gave her a subtle tic of her head. It only took her a moment to answer. "I'd be delighted to have tea with you, Rose."

After they had gone Draco had sat back down wearily. Harry stood at the foot of the bed and stared at Hermione's battered face.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. "That went well."

Draco met his eyes and nodded. "I was winging it, just so you know."

Harry chuckled. "I'll let you in on a little secret, I've been winging it since the day James was born. Now that he's older I've decided that winging it is probably the very definition of fatherhood."

The corner of Draco's mouth curled up in humor. "Same here with Scorpius. I really had no idea how to be anyone's father except to not be like my own." He steeled himself for some sort of scathing reply from Harry about his father, but it never came.

"Well, for the two of us winging it, we've managed to raise some good kids, Malfoy."

At that moment Draco itched to tell Harry about the baby, somehow knowing that the other man would be happy for them. But he didn't. "Yes, we have, Potter."

"How's Scorpius going to take the news you think?"

Draco chuckled. "He's been nagging at me in his letters to get a girlfriend so I suspect he'll be happy about it."

"And your ex-wife?"

Draco snorted. "She'll be a right snot about it all. It'll be like being back in the fourth year and dealing with all the girls who didn't get asked to the Yule ball."

It was Harry's turn to chuckle. "That ball was such a disaster," he replied.

The two men were quiet for a couple of minutes before Harry left to get back to work leaving Draco alone with Hermione and his thoughts once again.


Narcissa sipped her tea as she listened intently to Rose as the young woman shared most excitedly about all her classes Hogwarts. Her verbal romp had started when Narcissa had merely asked her about her schooling as a means to start a conversation. She could so very clearly see Hermione in Rose as the girls enthusiasm for learning shone through.

Hugo interjected his own bits about school, not nearly as interested in academics as his sister but he did well in his classes and was particularly excited about having joined the Hogwarts Wizard Chess club.

Ginny's acceptance of her presence there surprised Narcissa a bit, honestly. But the other witch simply ate her sandwich and sipped her tea and let the lunch conversation unfold as it willed.

There was a lull in the conversation as the two children ate their food and Narcissa was once again surprised by Ginny when she said, "I saw you a few months ago in Diagon Alley, when I mentioned it to Draco he told me you had been on a trip to Tuscany. I haven't seen any of Italy, what's it like?"

Ginny was an exceptionally pragmatic witch. She knew that Draco was to be an even bigger part of Hermione's life going forward. Their relationship was now all but public knowledge and in a few short months their daughter would arrive and bind them together even further. As hard as it was to believe, Ginny actually found it rather easy to get along with this adult version of Draco. Hermione had never been happier and in return it was obvious that Draco was very much in love with Hermione, his every action screaming it so loudly it was almost a bit humbling. Ginny had also been rather pleased by the way Draco had just so very kindly interacted with Rose and Hugo, it boded well for his relationship with them in the future.

But with Draco came a rather grey past and a bigoted, angry, hateful father. Since the war Draco had most definitely distanced himself far, far away from any of the blood purist dogma and factions. He had worked hard to build a life he could be proud of, one that, while not able to completely erase his sins of the war, had done much to make up for his misdeeds. His father Lucius on the other hand, while fairly neutered after the war and his influence severely limited, still clung to those hateful ideals he held so dear. Draco wanted nothing to do with his father, and, in fact, refused to let his own son interact with Lucius at all. Ginny had no doubt that Draco would never allow Lucius to harm Hermione or their yet-to-be-born daughter.

While one of Draco's parents was still repulsive to the core, his other was not. Narcissa had become somewhat of a social pariah after the war. She separated from Lucius but was unable to break the magical binding on her marriage contract to outright divorce him. She had accepted her sentence of community service after the war trials with grace and had worked diligently to rebuild historic wizarding museums and theaters that had been damaged in the war. She became her own woman, independent in mind and body and through the years her actions had softened public opinion of her a bit. Well, softened at least to the point where people no longer spat at her as she walked in Diagon Alley and she could make appearances at public events without fear for her life. Like Draco, she, too, left behind the rabid pure blood ideology of the Black family she was born into and the Malfoy family she was married into. Draco had maintained a good relationship with his mother and they sometimes worked together on public works projects.

Ginny liked to think she was a fairly good judge of character and when she allowed herself to really see the Narcissa Malfoy of the past two days, she found that what she saw was actually be rather pleasant and amenable. If Ginny had just met the woman today there wouldn't be any inkling of distrust or dislike. She knew that Narcissa would come part and parcel with Draco and having been raised not to be spiteful for spite's sake, Ginny decided to take the high road and be cordial and perhaps get to know the older witch a bit better.

So she said conversationally, "I saw you a few months ago in Diagon Alley, when I mentioned it to Draco he told me you had been on a trip to Tuscany. I haven't seen any of Italy, what's it like?"

There was a definite pause in Narcissa. In just a heartbeat she quickly analyzed Ginny's friendly intention before she relaxed and replied happily. She told them all about Italy and a few of the other places she had traveled. She answered questions from Ginny and the children warmly. It was a most pleasant conversation.

When their food and tea were finished they stood to go. Ginny instructed both of them to go use the lavatory and they obliged with their protective Aurors following closely.

Narcissa had stood and was straightening out the skirt of her dress. She met Ginny's eyes and softly she said, "Thank you. For including me today."

Ginny smiled and replied, "You're welcome. Draco told me earlier that he told you about the baby."

It was Narcissa's turn to smile. "He did, I don't think he meant to, he was just overwrought."

Ginny nodded. "We all are in our own way with everything that's happened. Given the past, Mrs. Malfoy, I have to ask, are you okay with them having a baby together?"

"Very much so, Mrs. Potter. I can't wait to meet my granddaughter."

"Will you help us protect them?" Ginny asked.

"Without question. Especially from my estranged husband, his reaction is guaranteed to be angry and violent. But all of us working together will surely keep them both safe, Mrs. Potter."

"Yes, we, will. And you may call me Ginny, please."

Narcissa tilted her head in response and replied, "And you may call me Narcissa."

The children returned and Ginny took them up to see their mother for a little while longer. Narcissa headed off to an afternoon meeting at the Transfiguration Museum to see about upgrading their outdated furnishing and draperies, her latest good works project happily and generously financed by her son.

None of them, the Aurors included, took any notice of the ancient wrinkled and balding old wizard sitting at a cafe table with his cane leaning against his thigh and a cup of untouched tea in front of him. And because they took no notice of what seemed to be just an innocuous old man, they all missed both his sneer of revulsion as their group passed him on their way out and the utter ice in his pale grey eyes.


A week later…

It was the middle of yet another quiet night, the ninth such night Draco had spent sitting beside Hermione's bed in the chair that he felt certain had made a permanent impression upon his spine. The light in the room was lowered, soft and restful, but Draco was far from restful.

Mentally Draco was at the end of his emotional rope. Never in his life had he been so afraid of losing someone he loved and yet here he was begging fate and magic itself to not to take Hermione and their daughter from him.

He slumped in the chair. Resting on his forefingers and thumbs was a small velvet box that he was squinting at in his exhaustion.. A small velvet box he had been carrying around since it was delivered to him at the hospital yesterday by special courier. A small velvet box the contents of which Draco had special ordered the second week Hermione had been using his home as a safe house in fact. A small velvet box containing a ring which Draco was now staring at so intently.

The ring itself had a beautiful new setting, hand-crafted from a design Draco had wanted and had described in detail to the jeweler. The flawless five carat square diamond it held, however, was not new and, in fact, had a long and interesting provenance that could be traced through both magical and Muggle aristocrats and nobility, and ultimately to a sultan in the Middle East who had purchased the raw stone and had it cut centuries ago to adorn his favorite among his harem. There was an amusing story to be told there, one Hermione would eat up and which Draco had intended to regale to his history-loving swot when he proposed as they lay by a roaring fire in a private chateau in the Alps. Or he supposed if she had gotten her way about their holiday, on a pristine beach at sunset on a island in the tropics.

Draco knew without question that he wanted to marry Hermione. He didn't care who might object, he loved her and she loved him and that was all that mattered in the grand scheme of things. He wanted her to be his wife and to be her husband and they would raise their daughter together in a home filled with genuine love and affection and respect for all others.

His father would, without question, lose his mind over it all. But Draco hadn't cared what his father thought about, well, anything since their little family had fled from a battle ravaged Hogwarts. His mother's support of his relationship with Hermione was in direct opposition to what he believed his father's reaction would be and had surprised him in the best sorts of ways.

Scorpius, he thought, would be happy for them as he had teased his father in his letters about needing a girlfriend more than once and Draco was certain he would be most excited about being a big brother, something his son had often vocalized desiring through the years. Rose and Hugo he wasn't as sure of, not knowing them well personally. He did know that both of them, Rose in particular, had been angry with their father for hurting their mother. What he did not know was whether that anger would transfer to any new man in Hermione's life, namely him. But then again, Hermione had shared letters from Rose in which she nagged her mother to start dating again and to be happy and Rose had seemed rather accepting of it all when they first met over Hermione's hospital bed and she figured out that it was he, in fact, who her mother was dating. Hugo, too, had seemed to be rather accepting once Draco had been completely honest about his feelings for Hermione. All three children loved their parents and none had iota of hate in their hearts. It might take time and patience for them to accept it completely, but he was confident they could make it work.

Astoria was likely to be a bit of a problem, not so much overtly or through their son as she would lose the generous alimony allowance she had been awarded in the divorce faster than you could say Quidditch thanks to carefully phrased restrictions Draco had demanded in their divorce agreement regarding slander and libel and the poisoning of their son's mind. Rather, he could see her being more than a bit of a snob in social situations, through snide, dual-meaning remarks and invitation snubs and the like as she resorted to the snotty tactics of a dorm full of Slytherin six-year girls. He didn't worry about this for a moment as Hermione's own clever, cutting wit was more than capable of verbally eviscerating Astoria should the need arise. In fact, he thought that he might actually find a confrontation between them amusing, having no doubt that Hermione would come out on top.

His thoughts turned to the Potters. He didn't doubt Ginny's support at all. She had turned out to be an unexpected ally. Potter himself, however, Draco just couldn't get a read on. Their previous interactions before Potter had found out about his relationship with Hermione hadn't been particularly warm but had been professional and reasonably courteous. Then came the late-night visit after Ginny had told her husband about Draco and Hermione, that interaction had been something odd, falling somewhere between professional and friendly. And after that came the conversation they had after Draco met Rose and Hugo, a conversation that had been downright friendly. Draco still didn't quite know how to take it all, but he did think Hermione would be pleased that he and Potter were able to be alone in the same room without hexes flying.

The corner of Draco's mouth curled up into the sneer that had been his trademark in his school days as he thought of Ron Weasley's reaction. He honestly did not care if Weasley accepted his relationship with Hermione or not. The stupid fool had had his chance to love her like he ought to have had, actually he had several chances if Draco wanted to put a finer point on it as Hermione had forgiven not one but two of Weasley's indiscretions before divorcing him after the third. Draco couldn't fathom the idea of cheating on his wife. Even with as bad as things had gotten with Astoria he had never considered going outside his marriage, not once. It just wasn't in his nature.

His weariness started to overtake him so Draco closed the box and safely tucked the ring in his trouser pocket, coincidently the pocket that still held a softly beating red crystal heart, before he pulled his chair closer to the bed and took Hermione's hand in his. That his other hand was firmly clasped around the wand in his lap was a given. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to doze.


The next morning found Draco still sitting in "his" chair. His head was tipped back over the top of the chair back and his eyes were open as he stared at the multitude of stains and cracks on the ceiling. He sighed heavily. This part of the hospital was in dire need of refurbishment, something that would be his next good works project once the expansion was completed and they had new rooms in which to put patients while these were stripped bare and rebuilt.

His mind wandered to the expansion project and all that he still had to do for it. His briefcase, brought to him by a most worried Timly, was full of parchment for the project needing his attention.

Alongside that stack of documents, there was another, albeit smaller, parchment stack clipped together in there. Which, while being another building project for him to oversee and one that would ultimately benefit the general public, was actually personal and something he was most looking forward to doing. It was to be a wedding gift for Hermione, one he hadn't hesitated to start the very same day he ordered her ring so confident was he that she would say yes to his proposal.

He had purchased a dilapidated multi-story building close to the hospital. His architect was drawing up final plans to convert said dilapidated building into a library. And this would not be just any library but rather a library for the healing arts. As her classmate Draco hadn't known that Hermione's Muggle parents had been well-educated healers and it had surprised him when he learned it from a press release when she became Minister of Magic. It had also saddened him when he had found out that she had oblivated them and sent them far away from the war and Voldemort's reach, an oblivation that had she never had the chance to reverse as her parents were killed in a completely ordinary Muggle boating accident mere months after she sent them away.

The Granger Memorial Library for the Healing Arts would be fine tribute to his late future in-laws. Draco grinned when he thought about the night he had asked her to tell him about them. And she had, sitting cross-legged on her side of his bed wearing naught but his undershirt she had commandeered and looking as well-shagged as they both were, Hermione shared stories and anecdotes and her most precious childhood memories. As an adult and a parent, Draco could readily admit that her parents sounded like fine people who genuinely loved their daughter. And really, how could they not have been given the moral caliber, strength, and compassion that made up the woman he loved.

His grin turned a little lecherous as he recalled how that evening had ended. She had shared the story of her father being bitten by by some boy named Robby Fenwick. Draco had laughed at the tale and teased about her poor father and that it sounded like Robby Fenwick could give a baby mandrake a run for its money. Hermione had stilled for a moment, almost as if hit by a stunning hex, before launching at his headboard-reclining self and kissing him with intent. She had barely even given him time to breathe as she straddled his lap and pressed herself against him, her tongue teased his and her fingers tangled in his hair. Though recently sated, his erection was soon back and prodding at her folds. Without so much as a pause in kissing him, she had shifted and taken his length inside her in one move. She set a hard and fast pace as she rode him wantonly, the most wanton he had ever seen her in fact. There had been little he could do but hold onto her and try to keep up with her. Her release, when it came, was strong and protracted as was his when it hit him at the tail end of hers. When their breathing had returned to normal, Draco managed to find enough moisture in his mouth to ask her what had he said to bring that on. Hermione had nestled against his side with her head on his shoulder, her finger once again drawing those damn tingly runes on his skin, and explained that he was the only one to ever laugh at that story about her father. She went on to explain about how mortified she had been at Slughorn's little Hogwarts dinner party where the room had gone silent and everyone had stared at her like she had sprouted feathers. Draco had pressed a kiss to the top of her head and teased lightly that the two of them obviously had a much more refined sense of humor than anyone in the Slug Club. She had giggled and promptly fallen asleep against him. He had pulled the covers over her and let sleep claim him as well.

Draco swallowed hard when his fond recollection ended. He turned his head without lifting it to the bed beside him and the still unconscious woman there. She had to wake up. They had so many more memories like that to make. So many more.

He returned his attention to the ceiling and thought about the library-to-be. The property had a patch of space behind it that once upon a time had grown grass. Draco wanted to turn it into a proper garden with flowers and trees and benches for visitors to be able to enjoy it all.

With a little smirk he pointed his wand at the ceiling and covered it with meticulously mower-striped grass. A few flicks later and there were miniature stately trees and lilac bushes, Hermione's favorite flower. He went on to add his wanted benches and other plants, greenery, and a relaxing fountain. Bit by bit he built the garden he intended to make real and hid the ugly stained ceiling. With another little flick of his wand, the clean, crisp smell of the grass permeated the room around them banishing all the antiseptic hospital smells.

He smiled when he was done and made a mental note that perhaps all the hospital room ceilings should be charmed so patients would have something pleasant to look at while recuperating, but it would certainly be a project for another day, perhaps one he could convince his mother to take on, she had a deft hand with charm work and a good eye for detail.

He sat up and reached for his briefcase. He pulled out the expansion project file and placed it on the rolling bedside table he commandeered to use as a desk, laying his wand beside it at the ready. He looked at his stack of work and signed. Picking up his wand, he stood and went to the sink in the corner and splashed some water on his face to wake himself up a bit more. He ran his tongue over his teeth and grimaced at how disgusting they felt. He summoned his travel kit from the corner where he had dropped his mother's carpet bag out of the way of the healers and pulled out his toothbrush and the tube of Muggle toothpaste that Hermione had gotten him hooked on using. He rather liked the taste of spearmint and had been using it for months now.

In sort order his face was washed, his hair combed, and his teeth brushed. He felt a bit more put together and ready to tackle his paperwork. He sat down and got to work.

Draco was concentrating so hard on the parchment in front of him that he almost missed the soft, "…love lilacs…," that came from the bed.

tbc...


Notes: To address some emails and messages I've received, this story has not been abandoned. I do not write stories beginning to end, instead I write scenes as I get inspired. I have much more written already, but I still have to write the parts to connect them all. Thank you to everyone following this story, the response has been positive and I can't thank you all enough for all the kudos and kind words. -CJ aka WritinginCT