Hermione would have to talk to Draco someday. It had been over a week since he'd gone all dark wizard on Principal Wiley. It's not that Hermione blamed him. She understood why he was so upset. Jack Wiley was a git. Even Hermione had pushed it when she stupefied him. Draco had gone out of his way to put the entire family in danger of retribution from the American aurors if they ever found out. All Hermione could do was bank on Jack Wiley having too much pride to say anything to anyone about what happened. Everyone would think he was crazy. Hermione sighed and glanced over at her husband playing a game of wizard's chess with Scorpius. Draco's grey eyes lifted timidly in her direction. She felt her face flush as she looked away. All the stolen glances and touches she had shared with Draco at Hogwarts flashed through her mind. She really missed him - and had probably overreacted to his outburst. She should probably lift the curse that was cutting tiny holes into all of his socks.

It was just about ten at night and Scorpius had gone to bed after beating his dad at Wizard's Chess. Hermione was rummaging through her closest, looking for the shimmery green nightgown she'd worn on her wedding night. It was in there somewhere. She finally found it in a pile of BP (before-pregnancy) clothes she'd hid away in a box, hoping to fit into them again. They did fit again, but she'd just forgotten all about them. Hermione pulled off her red sweater and jeans and slipped into the soft green fabric. As she moved it felt like water against her skin. Hermione grabbed her wand off the nightstand and whispered "incendio" as she pointed the wand at the wicks of lavender scented candles. "Nox," she whispered. The lights flicked off, leaving the sweeping glow of the candles the only light in the bedroom. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, eagerly awaiting Draco.

A few minutes later the wooden door squeaked open. Draco stepped in the room, his pale face illuminated in the candlelight.

"What's going on?" Draco's voice was a hoarse whisper. Chills ran like tiny finger all over Hermione's body. A smile sparkled across Draco's face. "Are you not mad at me anymore?"

Hermione laughed. "Come find out." She winked and wondered if Draco could see it in the dim light. He started unbuttoning his shirt as he approached Hermione. He let his shirt fall to the floor, just like he had that very first night. His hand ran along her bare spine and then caressed the green fabric. Draco leaned over her, his breath warm, sweet and perfect. Like always.

"I haven't seen this in years." Draco bit the tiny strap that held the nightgown up and slid it off Hermione's shoulder. He did the same to the other strap. Hermione didn't know why, but she was shaking. Draco steadied her with both hands. Hermione leaned up and pressed her trembling lips to her husband's. That seemed to be all the invitation he needed. Without another moment of hesitation, he laid her back on the bed, hovering over her.

"I'm glad we're not fighting anymore," Hermione breathed. Draco laughed and then nuzzled his head into her neck.

"Me too."

The next weeks passed without much hassle. Hermione and Draco both finished things up at work. A heavy nostalgia settled over the house as Scorpius headed off to his last day of muggle school. The next time Hermione would drop of Scorpius would be at Platform 9 3/4. Something they thought nine months ago would never happen. Hermione spent most of the day packing. She should have been using packing spells but she found an odd satisfaction in packing everything away without the help of magic. She even taped the boxes shut instead of using a sticking spell. Draco arrived home from work and wrapped Hermione in a hug so tight she could hardly breathe.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.

Draco sighed as he pulled away. "I can't believe we're going back."

She smiled and looked around the house that was now devoid of life and filled to the brim with cardboard boxes. "We're going home."

Draco kissed Hermione on the forehead and then let his lips linger there. "I was already home. You're my home."

Hermione felt a tear slip from her eye and Draco brushed it away. He was right. Home wasn't magical or muggle. England or America. Home was each other.

THE END

Thanks for reading everyone. I appreciate all the reviews and the time you spent with my Malfoys!