Chapter 13

Draco awoke from a restless sleep to the shaking of the bed and Hermione's whimpers. Rolling over, he held her close, hoping the contact would calm her. Instead, she woke with an anguished cry. "You're okay," he whispered as she turned and sobbed against his chest. It had become a nightly routine since having the memory charms reversed. Nightmares plagued the couple as they struggled to sleep through the night. While Draco often remained silent, Hermione had a harder time keeping her emotions in check. When she began to calm down, he asked her to tell him about the dream.

Pulling away, Hermione sat up and drew her knees to her chest. "It was the day your aunt tortured me," she told him. The physical reminder of that day was gone, but the mental ones were back. "There was a reason we got rid of these memories. I...I don't know that I can do this every day for the rest of my life."

"Maybe it gets easier," he suggested, rubbing her back. "Maybe we just delayed the healing by casting those charms. Potter and Weasley seem okay."

Hermione snorted. "They're boys," she mumbled, resting her head on her knees.

"And what am I?" Draco wondered with a small laugh. He urged her to lie back down, and held her in his arms. "Maybe they can help somehow. I'll talk to Ron in the morning about getting us some Dreamless Sleep."

"We have a newborn," she reminded him. "We can't both take it. That stuff knocks you out all night."

Draco shrugged a shoulder. "Fine, then you'll take it," he said, his tone indicating that there would be no argument. His dreams seemed to be far less distressing than hers, and Hermione needed her rest. "Please, just let me do this."

Guilty gray eyes pleaded with her, and Hermione relented. "You know you don't owe me any apologies, right?" she asked, stroking a stubble-covered cheek.

"All I wanted to do was protect you, and all I did was stand there and watch," he replied, his voice breaking.

"Sweetheart, there was nothing you could have done," she told him. "I never blamed you. If you had stepped in front of the curse, or begged her to stop, we both would have been hurt. She had no intention of relenting. And I'm fine, aside from a few nightmares."

Draco nodded, and they laid together in silence. They listened as Liam gurgled and breathed a contented sigh, one that meant he continued to sleep. Draco envied his month old son. "You're really not mad at me?" he wondered.

Her eyes had slowly begun to drift shut, and Hermione groaned. "No, I'm not," she replied as she opened her eyes. "You did what you had to do to stay alive. Don't think it escaped my notice that you wouldn't allow Crabbe and Goyle to fire their wands at me. You helped when you could, and I don't hold it against you that you didn't if you couldn't. Now, try to relax and think about something that isn't awful."

He tried. Beside him, his wife slept peacefully in his arms. He thought of his wedding, the days Clara and Liam were born, the time he and Hermione spent alone doing nothing but enjoying each other's company. They were good memories - wonderful memories - but were overshadowed by torture and battles and the hateful boy he had been. After making sure his wife was asleep, Draco slipped out of bed and left the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked, entering the living room to find Clara watching television. The little girl, her hair a mess, held up the remote. "It's three in the morning. Why are you out of bed?"

"Mommy woke me," Clara replied, placing her head in his lap when he sat down. "Is she okay?"

Draco combed his fingers through her long curls. "Yeah, baby. Mummy's okay," he promised. "So, can I watch cartoons with you? I'm having trouble sleeping too." Nodding, she sat up long enough to climb onto his lap. "Do you do this often when you can't sleep?"

Clara shrugged. "Sometimes," she mumbled. "Am I gonna be in trouble?"

"Not this time," he assured her. "Try to go back to sleep."

She settled against him as Draco gently rubbed her arm. "Daddy, can you do magic too?"

His hand stopped moving as he sighed. This wasn't the time for a difficult and complicated discussion, but Draco couldn't lie to her. "Yeah, baby, I can," he replied. "Mummy can too, but don't tell her I told you. She's brilliant, really. The kind of family I came from, we did magic our whole lives. I thought I'd be the smartest person in the whole school until your mum showed up. She'd been a witch for a month, and could do spells that even the big kids couldn't."

"Is that why you love Mommy?" Clara asked sleepily.

Draco laughed. "Quite the opposite actually," he remarked. "I'm not proud to say that I didn't like her. We were always a bit mean to each other. But when I needed a friend, it didn't matter to Mummy that we didn't like each other. She was there for me, and I'll love her for that forever."

"That's nice, Daddy," she mumbled.

Glancing down, he saw that she was asleep. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a shadow by the wall. "How much did you hear?" he asked.

Chagrined, Hermione joined him on the sofa. "Just that last part about loving me forever," she admitted. "Did you mean it?"

"I did," he confirmed, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge. "I know the memories we implanted were a bit accelerated, but they weren't entirely fabricated."

Yawning, she rested her head against his shoulder. "I know," she murmured. "I love you too."

Looking down, he saw she was beginning to fall asleep. "Hey, stay awake," he urged. "I have to put this one back to bed."

"Let's just stay here," she suggested. "It'll be like the old days. Besides, my wand will tell me if Liam wakes up. I'm just really comfortable."

With a sigh, he gave in and readjusted Clara in his arms. Soon, he too was asleep. It was only as the sun rose that he woke, finding himself alone. He sat up and stretched before going in search of his family. The sound of laughter led him to the kitchen where he found Ron Weasley cooking his daughter breakfast.

"My, Hermione, you've let yourself go overnight," Draco commented. "Care to tell me where my wife is?"

"Liam was messy," Clara stated. "Uncle Ron is making breakfast."

Draco kissed the top of her head and sat down beside her. "Ron is not your uncle," he stated.

"But I want one," Clara said, jutting out her bottom lip.

Laughing, Ron set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. "How do you say no to that face?" he wondered.

A retort was on the tip of his tongue when Draco heard his panicked wife call for him. Hurriedly, he left for the master bathroom where he found Hermione sitting on the floor with Liam in her arms. "What happened?" he asked worriedly as he knelt down beside her. Mother and son sobbed. Draco pried Liam, still wet from the bath, from Hermione's arms. "Hermione, what happened?"

Realizing she no longer held her child, Hermione looked up with wild brown eyes. "I was bathing him and he was crying," she explained, choking on a sob. "I had this...this flashback, and suddenly Bellatrix was standing over me again. I couldn't stop seeing her. I pulled him out of the bath, and just needed to protect him. I needed to keep her from hurting him."

Sighing, he looked up to find Ron in the doorway. Beckoning him forward, he handed him Liam. "It's alright, sweetheart," he said when they were alone again. "She's gone. She'll never hurt you again."

"What if I never shake this though?" she wondered. "I don't know that I can handle this."

He sat beside her, his arms holding her protectively. "We'll figure out a way," he promised. "Whatever it takes - we'll do it."