Chapter 16

Hermione laid in bed that night, wondering if the nightmares would come. It had been a good day, free of old memories. Perhaps that was due to a day of fun with her family, but Hermione would take whatever respite she could get. Now that she had time to ruminate, she wondered if Bellatrix would return.

"Don't think about it," Draco advised, slipping into bed beside her. "Happy thoughts, Mrs. Malfoy."

She grinned, feeling like a giddy fourth year with her first crush. "I think I could do that," she replied as his arms wound around her. "You know you make me happy, right?"

He puffed his chest proudly. "I had a feeling," he said, laughing. "You know, I can't remember the last time I saw you let go and have fun like you did today. I don't know whose smile was bigger - yours or Clara's."

Guilt warmed Hermione's cheeks. She too couldn't remember the last time she had been so carefree. Her formative years were spent wondering if she would survive the next adventure and battle. When she became a mother, her time was spent worrying for her children's safety. She watched Clara far more vigilantly than Draco did, and knew she would parent Liam just the same way.

"Hey, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," his voice cut into her thoughts.

"You didn't," she replied quickly, attempting to smile. "You just pointed out the truth. You're the fun parent, and I'm the parent parent. It's why Clara prefers to play with you and read with me. I don't mean that as a bad thing, merely stating a fact."

Draco frowned as he considered her "fact". It was no secret that Clara was a daddy's girl, but Draco never saw that as her having a parental preference. "What she does with us doesn't dictate how much she loves us," he told her. "She'll never love me more than she loves you just because I give her piggyback rides. You and I are a good team, Hermione, and we're raising a great little girl. Don't let this get to you. Although, if in three years, Liam decides he'd rather play with you, I fully intend to be an insensitive, jealous git."

Hermione chuckled softly, grateful for his ability to talk her down. "And I promise to gloat and rub it in your face that he likes me better," she retorted. His response was laughter. "That wasn't your way of saying that I sound like an insensitive, jealous git, is it?"

He flashed her a look that said he knew better than to think such things. Thankfully, the little figure who appeared in the doorway ended the conversation. "Mommy, it's gonna rain," Clara announced as she climbed into bed beside Hermione. "I can sleep here?"

Hermione nodded and turned away from her husband to comfort her daughter. "Do you want to know what I loved most about today?" she asked Clara.

She grinned as if she already knew the answer. "Playing with me?" the three year old guessed.

Hermione smiled as she nodded. "Thank you for such a great day," she said. Clara sighed in response, falling asleep in her mother's arms. Draco held his wife from behind, kissing her neck. "That is not appropriate right now."

A quiet laugh vibrated against her skin. "I feel bad that she inherited our fears," he commented. "What are we going to do when she decides she's too old to do this?"

"Procreate like a Weasley?" Hermione suggested. "We'll always have someone young enough to cuddle with during a thunderstorm."

"We'll also be as poor as the Weasleys," Draco pointed out. "That's not to say I wouldn't welcome a houseful of kids, I just think we should be practical about the number we have."

Hermione nodded in agreement as she tightened her hold on Clara. When she had talked to Harry earlier in the day, the subject of employment came up. Despite her protests that she was happy with the job she had, Harry insisted that a Ministry job would be more lucrative. Once more, she politely declined and asked him to change the subject. With her back still to him, she shared the conversation with her husband.

"Did you mean it?" he wondered, rolling onto his back. She turned just enough to know that he would see her nod. "So, all that talk from Potter about envying our life and promising that he wouldn't interfere, now he's offering you jobs?"

Sighing, she loosened her hold on Clara and faced him. "I told him this is our home," she replied. "Going back to England is out of the question, at least for me. Unless...I mean, do you want to go back?"

Snorting, he shook his head. England was the last place in the world he considered going. He was silent for a long while, determining how to tell his wife exactly what was on his mind. "I don't trust him," he finally confided. "I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but I don't trust him. We go back, what's to stop him from shutting me up in Azkaban? I was a Death Eater, and I did things the Ministry deemed crimes. I am a fugitive, and that would earn me an even harsher sentence."

"I won't let him arrest you," Hermione said defiantly.

He sat up, toss aside the blankets. "And how can you stop him?" he inquired. "For all we know, you're now an accessory. You helped me escape."

"I hadn't thought of that," she admitted, copying his posture. She gestured toward his wand, asking him to cast a silencing charm around them before their conversation continued. "What's to stop him from going to the Ministry here? He could have us extradited back to England."

But Draco disagreed. "It's like I said - Potter won't do anything to hurt you," he replied. "We stay here, continuing to live as muggles, and we're safe. We go back, there are plenty of other Aurors who wouldn't hesitate to arrest me on sight."

"Then we stay here," Hermione decided. "There's nothing for us there anyhow. I see no reason to go back."

With that decided, Draco lifted the charm, and the pair went to sleep.

The next morning, Clara was the first to wake. A feeling stirred within her, one that told her someone was coming. Harry Potter walked up the front path as she opened the front door. He gave her an inquisitive look, one that questioned whether or not she had permission to do so. But Clara Malfoy was in no mood. She stared pointedly as he asked to enter.

"No," she stated. Harry chuckled, but stayed on the porch. Her gray eyes were hard as she stared him down. "Are you going to arrest my mommy and daddy?"

He softened, bending to her height. "No, Clara, I'm not," he told her.

She held up a hand, pinky out. "Promise me," she demanded.

Harry linked his pinky with hers. "I promise you - I will never arrest your mummy and daddy."