Can I just say that I'm floored by the response the story has gotten so far? It really does mean the world to me that you like it!

Chapter 4

Clara skipped beside Hermione while holding her hand. Since Liam's birth, she had spent little one-on-one time with her mother, and she revelled in a day spent just the two of them. The little girl chatted rapidly as they entered an ice cream parlor and sat down. "And then Daddy, Daddy's so funny," Clara was saying, "he laughed even though Li-Li tinkled on him."

Hermione smiled as she listened to her daughter's tales. "Daddy's never had much luck with diapers," she replied. "Boys are a bit more difficult too. Better, or worse, aim."

They ordered vanilla sundaes with hot fudge, and Clara quickly changed the subject to her favorite dress up outfits. Footsteps approached the table, and Hermione looked up with a smile, expecting their dessert. Instead, one of the men who had visited Charlotte stood by their table. "Mione," he said breathlessly.

"No, her name is Mommy," Clara interjected.

Hermione laughed softly and returned her attention to the stranger. "Sorry, do I know you?" she wondered.

She was more cordial than her husband had been, but Hermione's clueless act hurt worse than Draco's. "It's me, Harry," he said, pushing back his bangs to reveal the lightning scar on his forehead. "Hermione? Come on."

"Sorry," she replied as their ice cream was delivered. "Um, would you like to join us? I've seen you at our neighbor's house. Do you know Mrs. Bradbury well?"

Dejectedly, Harry shook his head. "I can't stay," he said. "I'd like to talk to you some time though. Would, um, would that be alright?"

"That depends," she replied. "Are you trying to pick me up? I'm married, you know. This is my daughter."

Green eyes widened. "No, I knew that," he assured her. "No, I wasn't hitting on you. I swear. Not that you're not pretty, I just knew you're married. And uh...so, I'll go now."

Hermione stopped him with a touch to the arm. "I was joking," she assured him. "Clara and I are having mummy/daughter time now, but I'm guessing you know where we live. Stop over later, and we'll talk."

Clara, whose mouth and chin were smeared with chocolate, eyed her mother suspiciously. "Daddy doesn't like him," she warned. "I don't want Daddy to be mad."

Hermione swiped her finger through the hot fudge on her sundae before putting a dot of it on her little girl's nose. "Daddy won't be mad," she promised. "Besides, how can you dislike someone if you don't know them?"

Wiping her nose, Clara shrugged and let the conversation end as she enjoyed her ice cream. But Hermione couldn't get the mysterious stranger off her mind. He seemed to show up very suddenly, and was attracted to both her family and Charlotte. It was unnerving that someone she had never met knew her name, and more than that, the nickname only her closest friends had ever used for her. He intrigued and confused her, and she wanted to know more.

"Mama, do you think Daddy misses us?" Clara asked, putting down her spoon.

Hermione smiled, knowing what the question meant - she was ready to go home. Clara often gravitated towards her father, though it never bothered Hermione. She herself was a self-described daddy's girl as a child. "I bet you a million bucks that he does," she replied. After paying, she picked up her daughter and they walked home.

Draco sat on the porch with Liam in his arms, and smiled when he spotted his wife and daughter. "You're all messy," he commented as they approached. Hermione set Clara on her feet, and the adults traded children. "Mummy's okay with this?"

"She did it," Clara insisted, licking her lips.

Draco shot his wife an accusatory look, but Hermione shrugged. "I only put the chocolate on her nose," she said. "Clary did the rest. While she washes her face, could we talk privately?"

He frowned, but agreed. Hermione fidgeted nervously as he paced the floors to lull Liam to sleep. "What's got you so twisted up in knots?" he wondered.

"I ran into someone at the ice cream parlor," she admitted, sharing with him her encounter with Harry Potter. "He said he knew me, but I don't know how that's possible. I just...I wish we had some answers for their recent appearance."

"Which is why you invited him over," Draco added. "You really think you'll get the answers you want?"

Shaking her head, Hermione shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "We've been here five years, and nothing like this has ever happened. People don't just show up here, harassing the neighbors and asking crazy questions. I can't help thinking that this is somehow our fault."

"How?" he wondered, sitting down beside her.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "It's just a feeling, one I can't shake."

He held her hand, silently assuring her that she wasn't alone. "We'll figure it out," he murmured. "Do you want me to stay with you when you talk to him? He didn't seem to like me much the other day, but maybe that was because I interrupted their conversation. Is he bringing Ron?"

"The redhead?" Hermione asked, receiving confirmation in the form of a name. "He didn't say. I didn't invite him. They weren't together when I saw him."

Draco nodded. "I think I'll stick around," he decided. "I'm not sure I like the idea of my wife being left alone with strange men. Who knows what kind of pain you might inflict on them."

Hermione grinned, knowing her husband had firsthand experience with her right hook. They had been children, no older than thirteen. He had been teasing her, trying to get her attention by making fun of one of her favorite teachers, when she hit him. "I'm still not sorry about that," she replied. "It's not nice to call someone a big, smelly, hairy oaf. Besides, he didn't deserve to be suspended. One little fire in the chemistry lab, and everyone's knickers are in a twist."

"He almost set me on fire," Draco pointed out.

"From halfway across the room?" she retorted.

He shrugged. "Fires spread," he replied, standing up. "And what kind of best friend punches someone for being concerned for his safety?"

Hermione followed him to their bedroom, where he laid Liam down in the bassinet by their bed. "The kind who never liked you," she said, biting her bottom lip. "I really didn't want you to find out this way. In fact, I'm thinking of running off with those two. They're pretty good looking."

He grabbed her around the waist and backed her up to the bed. "That had better be a joke," he muttered, pressing his lips to hers.

"You know you're the only man I've ever loved," she assured him, caressing his stubbled cheek. "And the only man I will ever love."

The bedroom door squeaked to reveal Clara. "I'm clean," she announced. "And someone's coming."