Two hour meeting. Discussions about fonts. Can someone find me a rich husband so I never have to work again?

Chapter 17
"Ana's asleep," Draco reported, entering the master bedroom as Hermione folded laundry. "She's informed me that there are no longer any monsters hiding in her closet, so I should go back to bed with you. She's too perceptive. Must get that from me."

Hermione added a pair of socks to the growing pile of Draco's clean clothes. "If only I had married someone dumb and ugly," she said wistfully.

"Or you could tell her that men don't like smart girls," he added.

She smiled as she pulled the last shirt from the laundry basket. "I used to think that of you," she admitted. "In my defense you did pal around Pansy Parkinson a lot."

Groaning he sat down on the bed and leaned back against the pillows. "Now, why couldn't I have forgotten that part of my life?" he wondered.

Rising from the bed, Hermione began to put away the laundry, leaving Ana's small pile for the morning. "I'm sorry if I sounded like a lunatic earlier today," she said, closing the last drawer.

He beckoned her back to the bed, and when she sat down on her side, he said, "I never thought that anything in those stories might be real. I don't want to know the real life repercussions of Babbity-Rabbity. But your theory might be right. Probably more pleasant than taking a potion anyhow."

"Yeah, right," she agreed.

He gave her arm a gentle tug, drawing her closer so she laid down beside him. His arm around her shoulders and her head rested on his chest, he released a contented sigh. "So, do you think it's old age or was potion making always this exhausting?" he asked.

"Old age," she decided, her voice cracking despite her best attempts to stop it.

He looked down and smoothed away the hair that draped across her cheek. "What's wrong?" he asked, finding his fingers wet where they touched her skin.

"This," she said tearfully. "It feels like how it used to be, but I know it's not."

He tightened his hold on her. "We'll get back there," he promised. "It's supposed to take a month to brew, but once it's finished, my memories will be back."

"Just in time for the baby," she added. "What if it doesn't work?"

He caressed her cheek, still wet with tears. "I fell in love with you once, didn't I?" he asked. "I don't see why I won't be able to again."

"What if it isn't the same?" she wondered.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "Different might not be a bad thing though. I just want us to feel like a family, and I think we're getting there."

She nodded her head in agreement and tried to let go of the tension she felt in her stiff body. His hand lovingly stroked her stomach, and she knew that even if he never loved her again, their children would know the unconditional love of their father.

Beside her, Draco shifted and she looked up in alarm. "Don't worry, I'm just turning off the light," he said softly.

"Does that mean you're leaving?" she asked, wondering if he would see it as desperate if she clung to his shirt.

"Do you want me to?"

"No," she replied.

He unwound himself from her and pulled a blanket up from the foot of the bed to cover them. After shutting off the light, he settled back down beside her and closed his eyes. "This feels right," he whispered, hoping that if she were asleep his words wouldn't disturb her.

Hermione pressed her lips to his jaw. "I agree," she murmured.

Draco woke the next morning with a strange pressure on his chest. Cracking one eye open, he found Ana sitting on him, a smile lighting up her face. "What are you doing, Buttercup?" he asked her, glancing over to find Hermione still asleep.

"Waking you," she replied with a giggle.

"Mission accomplished," he mumbled, groaning when he caught sight of the alarm clock. It was only just past six in the morning. "Will you cuddle with me? Mummy's got one arm, but the other one is just begging to hold you too."

She laid down on his chest and sighed. "I like this, Daddy," she said softly.

"Me too," he agreed, closing his eyes once more.

"No more talking," Hermione mumbled. Rolling over, she buried her face in his shoulder and exhaled.

He reopened his eyes and looked down at her. "Did we wake you?" he asked.

"Yes," came her muffled reply.

"Did you sleep okay until we woke you?" he inquired, stroking her back.

Her eyes opened then and she looked up at him. "Better than I've slept in a while," she confessed.

"I had a dream about my mother last night," he told her. "She looked healthy and happy. I think Ana got her smile. She didn't say much, but just before I felt myself starting to wake up, she asked if I was happy."

"What did you say, Daddy?" Ana asked.

Draco smiled and kissed Hermione's forehead. "I told her I can't remember the last time I was this happy," he replied.

"I miss her," Hermione said sadly. "She was so good to me when we started dating. After you proposed, she insisted that I call her Mum."

A soft chuckle passed his lips. "Wow, even I didn't get to call her that," he joked. "Clearly, she liked you better."

Sitting up, Hermione shook her head. "Your mother loved you more than anything, Draco," she told him. "She told me all the time when I'd visit her. Just hours and hours she'd spend telling me stories about you and how wonderful you were."

His arms wrapped tighter around Ana. "Can we talk more about this later?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as it neared breaking.

Leaning over, she pushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. "Of course," she promised. "I think I'll get started on breakfast. You two have a bit of a lie-in. I'll call you when it's ready."

Still holding his daughter, Draco rolled over so they were now side by side. "You love me?" he asked her.

"Always and always, Daddy," she replied. "You sad, Daddy?"

He shook his head and attempted to smile. "No, Buttercup," he told her. "I just miss my mum. It's been a long time since I've seen her."

"Why you no see her?" she wondered.

Draco sighed, searching for the best way to explain death to a two year-old. "It's complicated, sweetie," he said. "She had to go away, and she can't come back."

Before she could demand further explanation, Draco heard a worried Hermione yell his name.