Hermione and Draco remained the driveway, kneeling by Jessie, but Scorpius was frozen across the street as if he could not longer move. A screech of tires and a splash of water made Hermione look up from the startled young girl. It was Hannah, Jessie's mother, arriving home from work.

She slammed the door to her silver car and raced toward her daughter.

"Jessie!" she screeched. "Oh, Jessie. What happened?"

"She fell," muttered Hermione, her normally quick mind muddled with contradicting thoughts.

"Are you hurt?" asked Hannah.

Jessie shook her head timidly, a small tear leaking from her eyes and slipping down her face.

Hannah's eyes flickered to Hermione, worry painting them with a strange darkness.

"How is she not hurt?" asked Hanna

"M-mom," Jessie stuttered. "I stopped. Just before I hit the ground. I just stopped in mid-air."

Hannah's face contorted with confusion as Jessie recounted the strange story. She looked to Hermione as if to ask her to explain further, to give her a story that made more sense. Hermione had nothing and when she looked to Draco she could tell he was as unsure as she was.

"A miracle," Hermione said. "I don't know what else to say."

Hannah froze momentarily and then scooped her daughter into her arms.

"Thank you," she whispered as she carried Jessie into their house.

As Hermione turned to look at her son, she knew that was exactly what it was. A miracle.

They weren't sure what to tell Scorpius when they saw him. He just looked up at Hermione with those small silver eyes of his and shrugged. Stunned. He had to have been stunned. They all were. It would be a good idea to talk about it in the morning once everyone had the chance to calm down.

Without a word, Hermione and Draco walked to their room. Draco opened the door and shut it behind them. He fell down on the bed, a look of absolute pain etched across his face. What could he have to feel badly about? Jessie was alright and Scorpius was...well, he had magic.

"What's wrong?" she asked, genuinely confused about her husband's state of mind.

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. If you're upset that matters to me." Hermione collapsed down beside Draco and placed her hand on his soft neck. He still had that small curl of blond hair on his neck that she first noticed in sixth year. Hermione twirled it with her finger.

"We shouldn't get our hopes up," said Draco. "It could have been a fluke. Something like this has never happened before."

"Not that we know of."

"You've read every book there is! You and I both know it doesn't work like this. And I'm angry. I'm so-" Draco cursed under his breath. "Angry at whatever deity is out there. Giving and taking hope away like that – it's disgusting." Draco jumped up from the bed and shoved the picture frames and Hermione's jewelry box of the counter.

Hermione stood, startled at his reaction. "What are you doing?"

He squeezed his hair in his hands, his face bright Gryffindor red. "It's not fair."

Hermione took a few tentative steps toward her husband. Something about him was making her nervous like it never had before. He looked like if someone touched him he'd shatter into millions of pieces, too small to ever put back together.

"Are you blaming God for this?"

"No!" His fingers traced white lines down his otherwise anger-blushed face. "Gah, Hermione, I blame myself. Remember when you said this was your fault because you were a muggle-born? It's not you. It's," his lips moved to form a curse world but he just whispered, "It's mine."

What was her husband talking about? How could any of this be his fault? These kinds of things didn't have fault and blame they just happened without reason. Suffering was an unfortunate and real part of life.

"Why do you think that?" she said as calmly as she could.

His grey eyes focused on her with the kind of intensity she hadn't seen in years. "Because I am a bad man living a good man's life."

A sinking feeling consumed Hermione. Draco wasn't a bad man. He was her husband, a loving father, her best friend, her everything. There wasn't anything bad in him. At least not anymore. How could the man she loved, the man she'd die a thousand deaths for, see himself that way?

"You're not a bad-"

"Shut up!" he shouted, startling Hermione. He'd never said that to her before. "See," Draco said, sounding defeated.

"Draco..."

"The way I treated you and Harry and even that ridiculous Weasley, the things I thought, you can't imagine the things I thought and God knows I don't want you to. I did awful things and I stood by while others did terrible things..."

"That's all in the past."

"I don't deserve this. After the things I've done I don't deserve you or the kids or any of it. It was only a matter of time before the universe evened itself out, gave me taste of the pain I caused everyone else."

Hermione swallowed, her heart thrumming in her chest. She reached for her husband's hand but he tore away, his eyes downcast.

"You're right. You don't deserve what you have," Hermione said coldly. Draco's eyes floated up to her, apparently surprised by her words. "But what's happening to Scorpius isn't your fault. It's just the way it is." Her voice was warm and full of love again. Love shook through every part of her for Draco and would as long as she lived. "You know why you have what you have, Draco?" she asked. Hermione rested her hand on his cheek and this time he didn't pull away. "Grace."

Draco's brow drew together musingly then he shook his head. "I don't deserve grace."

Hermione couldn't contain the small chuckle that had settled on her lips. "If you did, it wouldn't be grace."

Draco let out a sigh as he tugged on a lock of Hermione's hair. "Whatever happens with Scorpius we'll deal with it?" he asked.

She nodded. "We'll give our son a good life, I promise."

Draco's eyes smoked over, turning their familiar darker shade of grey. He placed a gentle, searching kiss to Hermione's lips. A kiss that made every inch of her skin pop and fizzle at his perfect touch.

"Come," Draco breathed in Hermione's ear as he led her toward their bed.