Leaving the hospital was no easy feat, but Hermione knew that it was for the best she go. She needed to give Draco a day or two to mull things over and weigh his options (and to survive on the bland hospital food that she knew he'd hate).
She wasting no time apparating home to their modest brick house in the countryside. There were leaves all over their side yard because she hadn't had the time or energy to take care of them since the trees began to shed their colors. Hermione trudged through them, savoring each crunch until she walked through her red front door.
Sighing somewhat dramatically, she hung her purple scarf on the coat rack by the door and braced herself against the wall for support. There were ghosts in this house and she could feel them. Not ghosts as in transparent souls floating in the void, but ghosts as in forgotten memories.
She could see Draco sitting in his armchair by the fire with Crookshanks in his lap, pretending he hadn't been waiting up for her, but rather was simply waiting for the fire to burn out. She could see him sliding down the stairwell banister (with a bit of magical support), laughing in a way that brought out the child in him as he sang a boyish tune about "muggle pancakes", a breakfast that had become a favorite of his. She could see ink spread all through his hair from the bottle he'd spilled as she woke him up from a late night of studying for Auror practicals.
She could see all the things he'd been all the things he might never be again. "How am I going to do this?" she muttered to herself, rubbing her furrowed brow between her thumb and forefinger.
She dropped her handbag on the small table by the door and straightened herself up. Mustering up every ounce of courage she possibly could, more for her daughter than herself, Hermione forced a smile onto her face. She hoped it looked more genuine than it felt.
"Lacey?" she called, attempting to sound at least halfway cheerful. "Ginny? I'm here!" Hermione walked through the entrance into the living room where Ginny was sitting with Lacey on the couch reading a book. Baby Albus was cooing from his high chair where he was happily devouring a plate of something green and mushy.
"Mummy!" Lacey shrieked, bouncing up off the couch and running to hug her mother's leg.
"Where's James?" Hermione asked, glancing around her small green living space as she stroked her daughter's hair. There were signs that he had been there from his stack of Quidditch figurines in the corner, but there was no sign of the toddler.
"Harry picked him up about ten minutes ago actually," Ginny explained. "James told him yesterday that he wanted to go look at racing brooms, and you know Harry. He had a free hour today and, of course, that's how he's spending it. Looking at racing brooms with his three-year-old son who won't even have a racing broom until he's ready to go to school, if he's even that lucky. Never mind his stack of paperwork that will keep him up late into the night. Racing brooms." Although Ginny's tone was meant to sound annoyed, Hermione could pick up the hint of pride lurking at the edge of each word. Ginny was a professional Quidditch player and a columnist for The Daily Prophet, and secretly adored that her oldest son seemed to be an athlete in the making.
"Harry's a good father," Hermione commented with a smirk, causing her friend to nod knowingly with a burst of laughter and a lavish eye roll.
"He is," Ginny agreed. "And speaking of good fathers..." Her tone dropped off a little, and Hermione braced herself for the question she was dreading. "How is Draco today? Any improvement?"
"Lacey," Hermione said, rubbing her daughter lovingly on the back. "Why don't you go upstairs to your room and find that picture you colored yesterday to show Aunt Ginny? I'm sure she would love to see it."
"Okay!" Lacey squealed, rushing to the staircase, oblivious to her mother's tactics to get her out of earshot.
Hermione watched her daughter enthusiastically dash away and then sat down on the couch next to her friend with an exasperated sigh. "I had to put a silencing charm on him to get a word in."
"Well that's good, right? It sounds like he's on his way back to normal!"
Hermione had to playfully elbow Ginny in the side to keep from laughing. "Stop it, it's not funny! He literally thinks that we kidnapped him to stop him from killing Dumbledore."
"It is very complicated," Ginny said seriously. "I'm sure he just needs some time. You wouldn't be too keen on shacking up with him if you woke up as your sixteen-year-old self either and the roles were reversed. He might be a pain in the arse, but he's not totally thick. He'll figure it out. Give him time."
"PEA!" Albus shouted, banging his spoon on his little wooden tray.
"Ugh," Ginny groaned, laying her head against the back of the couch. "I hate this almost-one-year-old stage where I never know if they're talking about what they just put in their mouth or their pants."
"I'm here now, so if you need to, you can take Albus home. Him and his peas, both food and otherwise."
"I don't want to leave you alone." Ginny reached out and put a hand on her friend's knee. "If you need me, I'll gladly stay over. We can make a night of it. I'll make Harry come get Alby and we can do each other's hair and talk about silly trivial things and take your mind off of everything. I can be here for you with no trouble at all."
"I'll have Lacey. We'll go for a walk or something to keep our mind off of things. We'll be fine."
In truth, Hermione just wanted time to herself. Having Ginny around was wonderful, but she would feel obligated to talk about her feelings, and she wasn't even sure she wanted to delve into those quite yet.
"Do you have to go back to work tomorrow?"
"Probably. Especially to get that promotion. I can't be taking a lot of time off."
"Yeah, this whole thing really is shite timing." Ginny bit her lip and rested her head comfortingly on Hermione's shoulder. "Well, you know where I'll be if you need someone to watch Lacey."
"I don't know what I would do without you."
"I don't know either. Ron's a horrible babysitter. You'd have to check in every hour and that would get annoying."
"He's not that bad." Hermione gave Ron the benefit of the doubt, but he had gotten into several sticky situations while babysitting one or all of the children.
"Are we talking about the same Ron? The Ron that let James stick a quill into his nose? He was spewing ink for a week! He was like the giant squid!"
"That was just an unlucky incident. Harry would have let it happen, too. And it did teach them how to properly baby-proof an office."
Lacey ran back into the room proudly holding a crayon drawing on a white sheet of paper. "Look Aunt Ginny! I drawed a picture of you playing quid-ditch!"
The drawing was of a stick person with flaming red scribbles for hair sitting atop a very skinny broomstick with a red ball in her hand headed for a big circle at the other end of the paper.
"It's lovely," Ginny said sincerely. "You drew my hair perfectly."
"Here!" Lacey squealed, handing the paper to her godmother. "It's for you!"
"I'll put it in my locker when I go to practice on Tuesday. It will make all of my teammates jealous." Ginny gave Lacey a big hug and a kiss on top of her head. "You are quite the artist."
Hermione reached out and put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Lacey, dear, I think it's time for Ginny and Albus to go home for now. What do you say?"
"Thank you, Aunt Ginny for playing with me," the little girl recited.
"You're welcome. Keep your mum out of trouble for me, eh?"
Lacey gave a big thumbs up and Ginny turned to give Hermione a final long look as if to say, 'Are you sure you really want me to go?' When Hermione nodded in affirmation, Ginny got to her feet and started gathering Albus and James' things.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Both of you. Try to stay positive." She scooped up her very messy son and stepped over to the fireplace to grab a handful of floo powder. "We love you!" The fire turned green and they were gone.
The room was practically silent for a few minutes with Hermione staring into the fireplace and Lacey playing quietly in the corner. The silence did not last long enough for Hermione's liking.
Soon enough, the quiet got the better of her 3-year-old child and she heard the question, "Mum, where's Daddy?"
"I'm right here!"Draco laughed, lifting his hands away from his face as he crossed his eyes and stuck out tongue.
The baby in the cradle let out a sweet little giggle of delight. He covered his face again. "Uh oh, now where am I?" After a couple of seconds, he repeated the act of pulling his hands away only for the baby to laugh again.
"That could continue forever, you know." Hermione smiled at them from across the room where she sat with a book open in her lap, wand behind her ear.
"What's that?" Draco questioned lazily, his eyes not leaving the baby in front of him as he continued their game.
"Object permanence," Hermione explained. "She doesn't have it yet. You could continue that for weeks and she'd find it fascinating every time."
Draco tore his eyes away from his daughter to gaze at his wife. "I love it when you use words I don't completely understand." He gazed back down to the baby whose eyelashes were now fluttering in a sleepy way.
"Her lack of object whatever-you-called-it seems to have worn her out," he sighed, touching the baby's tummy gently. "I could play that game just as long as she could... She's so tiny." His fingers traced lazy circles on her blanket as she drifted off to sleep, her thumb rising to her mouth.
He swallowed a lump of emotions that were rising in his throat. Hermione closed her book and crossed the room to stand beside him. "She's perfect, isn't she?"
Draco didn't respond so she glanced up to see tears welling in his eyes. "Is something the matter?" She reached a hand up to gently caress his face. He leaned into her touch. "You wish your parents could meet her, don't you?" She already knew the answer, but there was nothing they could do. His father had been declared a safety hazard to the community, and his mother was refusing to leave her husband's side. "Draco, I'm so sorry..." she whispered, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "If things were different..."
"But they're not," he nodded. "I know." He sighed and ran both of his hands through his hair in aggravation. "I just know they would love her if they gave her a chance. And you. I know they would."
"Maybe someday," Hermione said optimistically, even though she didn't truly agree with her own words. "Maybe the world just isn't ready for more than one open-minded Malfoy. It took long enough for you to come round. If there's anyone who could make your mother see reason, it's this little one."
"I love you," he laughed, giving her a quick peck on the end of her nose. "The two of you are my family now, and maybe someday my parents will decide to be a part of it again, but until then, you're all I need."
"And don't you forget it," Hermione said with a gentle kiss.
A/N: Wow, so I said it wouldn't be another 10-month gap... 2 years ago. I'm so so so so sorry for anyone who actually was enjoying this story (and I know there were quite a few of you out there!). The consolation is, there will probably be another chapter up in the next few days because I'm already pretty much done with chapter 5 and I'm still very certain this entire story will get finished because I'm in love with where it's going. The trouble is writing it all down. But bear with me, and I promise there is so much angst and so many plot twists to come. Sorry this filler chapter took so long, but get ready and get set and buckle your seat belts because hopefully it'll all move much more quickly from here on out! Thank you for all the kind messages I've received about this story thus far. You're all brilliant.