Author's Note: I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, followed, and favourited this work. I hope you all continue to enjoy it. In this chapter we get some cute childhood Dramione moments and some furthering the plot along before Hermione heads to Hogwarts next chapter!

Cressida hummed thoughtfully as she read, Hermione playing with colourful wooden blocks at her feet. A lot of her time was surprisingly easy, now that the first unknown, nervous hurdles of motherhood had been surmounted. There were always new challenges, but for now, it was peaceful. The peace, however, was broken by quick knocks on the door.

Cressida, startled, touched her shortened hair, made sure her useless glasses were on her face and sighed, getting to her feet. She opened the door expecting perhaps one of the pushy mothers from the mommies group in the neighborhood that was trying to include her, and instead found a glamoured and heavily pregnant Narcissa Malfoy.

"Cissa?" Cressida asked, startled, opening the door further to let in her friend. "What are you doing here?" She closed the door behind them, but she was worried. Her handlers had always set up specific appointments to ensure that Cressida was home and that no one would be dropping by unannounced - not that Dr. Celia Granger had much of a social life, it was still a precaution both Aurora and the Malfoys had taken quite seriously.

"New orders." Narcissa replied, for once ignoring her immaculate manners to sit on the sofa and take her weight off of her strained ankles and remove the glamours.

"Cissy!" Hermione said, pulling herself up using the couch. She released the couch and wobbled slightly, almost falling, but managing to catch herself.

"You're growing so quickly, darling!" Narcissa enthused. "Will you come sit next to me?"

"She's growing by leaps and bounds." Cressida admitted, shaking her head. "She's ahead of every milestone every baby book has given me. She said Mama at five months, the baby books swear that's not supposed to happen until eight months - not to mention the standing and...it's enough to make me feel as if I'm going mad."

"With her parentage she was always going to clever." Narcissa said with a smile, picking up Hermione and settling her down beside her. The blonde woman sighed, wishing they could just visit and have tea, but she was here for a reason. "The Dark Lord has found out about a new prophecy...about a child that will be born in July."

Cressida's hope flagged and she sighed. "I'm not coming home anytime soon, am I?" She had requested to be sent away, and agreed to this deep cover, but she had not anticipated how isolated she truly was. She had imagined a little cottage somewhere that she could be cooped up in with her baby and books and cauldrons...but that was too risky. Aurora said they would try and find a place that she could go to do magic, where the Ministry wouldn't pick up on it, but any magic here, even potions, could break her muggle cover.

"No." Narcissa agreed, patting her friend's hand as Hermione curled up on the pregnant woman's lap, her head pressed onto the swollen stomach. "No, I think this will take a long time."

Cressida held Hermione's hand in her own as they walked toward the brick building. It was a pleasant looking building, with ivy climbing the sides, but it was quite imposing to the witch. Today was Hermione's first day at daycare. Dr. Celia Granger couldn't take any more time off, it had taken quite a bit of wrangling and magic on her behalf to make it this long. Taking a deep breath, and fighting the wish that she could be curled up somewhere with a proper family and a proper life, she opened the door and led Hermione inside.

"Hello, Dr. Granger!" The smiling director of Miss Mary's Centre for Gifted Children said as they entered. "And this must be Hermione! I'm Miss Mary."

"Hello, Miss Mary." Hermione said seriously.

Miss Mary beamed at the well-mannered child. "Do you have a nickname for the other children to call you?"

"No…" Hermione said, perplexed.

Miss Mary smiled. "Well, Hermione is quite a mouthful. How about if we call you Mia?"

Hermione frowned and looked up at the woman, somehow still managing to look at her as if she were frog spawn when the woman was so much taller. "My name is Hermione not Mia."

Cressida had to hide her expression at that, she had thought Hermione had no real masculine influence in her life, but apparently Hermione had picked up a few things from Lucius after all. The wizard didn't visit all that often, but that expression was one of his. "Sweetheart, you let Draco call you Mine."

Hermione looked at her mother, lip wobbling. "That's different!"

Cressida raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Why?"

"Cause!" Hermione argued.

Cressida sighed and smiled apologetically at Miss Mary. "I'm sorry. Maybe when she makes a few friends she'll relax a little." Secretly, Cressida didn't think so. For some reason, when Draco gave something a name, it stuck. A perfectly serviceable house elf that had been called Goldie had been dubbed 'Gimme,' by the spoilt Malfoy scion and it had stuck. The elf didn't even answer to Goldie anymore. Apparently Hermione was slightly more circumspect, but no one else got to shorten (or mangle) her name. She pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead. "Behave for Miss Mary, all right?"

"Yes, Maman." Hermione replied, dutifully walking over to the smiling caretaker. "Have a good day."

When a distraught Aurora appeared at her door, Cressida knew better than to assume that she was being called home. The usually put together young woman was a mess, and Cressida drew her inside, before anyone on the street saw the woman in the violet cloak.

"What's happened, Rory?" Cressida asked, pulling her into the parlour, and sitting her down, even as the usually strong black woman dissolved into harder sobs. Since she was obviously in no condition to speak, Cressida just held her as she cried, until Aurora had reached some semblance of calm.

"Barty…" Aurora croaked out. "That bastard sent him to a lifetime sentence in Azkaban! His own son…" She let out a sound that was more of a keening wail than a sob.

Cressida gasped in shock, and then hugged Aurora tighter. "It'll be alright, Rory. You'll see, the Dark Lord will return and you'll have him back."

Aurora shook her head. "We shouldn't have put off the wedding. I should have married him right out of Hogwarts. I should have…" She looked at Hermione, asleep on a blanket nearby. "I should have had a baby so I'd have something of him."

"No!" Cressida corrected sharply. "Right now you're in danger. The Aurors will suspect you. You have to disavow all knowledge of everything. They're trying to destroy everything in connection to the Dark Lord. Be prepared for them to sink to the depths, especially since Barty was influential. You need to hide now, Aurora."

The young woman fell into fresh sobs and Cressida sighed. Her friends had seen her like this so many times she could barely count them. "It'll be alright, Rory. You'll stay here tonight, and tomorrow...tomorrow you clean yourself up and find someone to keep you safe from the Aurors' Unforgivables and Veritaserum."

Cressida had hoped that nursery school would have been better after daycare. Despite some rough starts and not really making any friends, Hermione had done alright in daycare. Unfortunately, during her lunch hour, she was called to the school to pick up Hermione, who, the teacher had informed her, was 'hysterical,' and refusing to calm down. Making sure her unnecessary glasses were in place, Cressida rushed to the nursery school, wondering what could have happened.

Apparently, the teacher was at the same sort of loss, wringing her hands. "I don't know what's wrong, Dr. Granger!" She insisted. "It was only reading time, and that's usually Hermione's favourite time of the day. She just started sobbing and we couldn't get her to stop!"

They led her to the office, where Hermione was clutching a picture book to her chest, hair frizzed beyond any hope of manageability, eyes red and puffy, and face tear-streaked. "Maman!" Hermione wailed, beside herself.

"What's wrong, ma petite?" Cressida queried, kneeling and wrapping her arms around her distraught daughter. "Why are you so sad?"

"They…" Hermione choked out, between gasps of sobs. "They...killed...Cissy!"

Cressida reared back in shock, eyes wide. She hadn't expected anything like this. "What?" She demanded, wondering if Hermione had been cursed with the Sight.

Instead, Hermione opened the book she had been clutching to her chest, disclosing the pictures. It was some sort of fairy tale, which showed a woman who looked all but identical to Narcissa Malfoy dancing in iron shoes on one page, and engulfed in flame on the next page. "They set her on fire!"

Cressida had to struggle between laughing in relief and shaking her head. She turned to the teacher. "I'm going to take her home, Ms. Smoker. May we please borrow the book, so that she can see that her friend is not inside it when we get home?"

"Of course." Ms. Smoker said, shaking her head and wringing her hands. "We'll see you tomorrow. Have a good day, Hermione."

Hermione, drying her eyes with one of her mother's handkerchiefs, looked distrustingly at the teacher, but said anyway. "Goodbye, Ms. Smoker."

Cressida led her daughter away from the school and onto the tube, and then onto a bus, toward the safehouse that had been created for both of them. It was a place warded against all sorts of magic, including the underage trace. It was also their only connection to the Floo, hooked up illegally and untraceable through some of Lucius's contacts. She knew there was only one way to convince Hermione that Narcissa had not been burned to death, and that was to see her.

Once inside the cottage, Cressida sat Hermione on her usual chair, and went to the Floo. "Private Fireplace, Malfoy Manor!" she called, sticking her head into the emerald flames. It took only a few moments to ask the elf on the other side to pass a message along to Narcissa. While they waited for the blonde woman to join them, Hermione showed her mother the book, explaining the story and interspersing it with her own opinion about self-tightening corset laces and how Cissy must have gotten a bad batch of the Draught of Living Death. When she reached the end, she was crying again.

"Oh, ma petite." Cressida crooned, wrapping her arms around her daughter. "It's alright. You'll see. Narcissa is fine."

A moment later, Narcissa Malfoy appeared in the fireplace, gracefully brushing off nonexistent motes of ash and soot. "What's going on?" She queried, unsure as to why she had received such a message.

Hermione looked up from her mother's arms, and excitedly took a few steps toward Narcissa with an excited: "Cissy!," but then paused, mid-step and looked back at her mother. "How do we know it's really Cissy?"

Narcissa arched an eyebrow at Cressida, who let out a little laugh. "Ask her something only Cissy would know." Cressida suggested to her daughter.

Hermione considered this, hand on her chin in thought. "When Draco and I send things, where do they appear?" She asked finally, as Narcissa had been the one to set up the 'false post' system for them.

Narcissa chuckled. "In the hollow tree in your front garden, and in the vase of the water carrier by the fountain at Malfoy Manor."

An excited smile crossed Hermione's face and she threw herself at Narcissa. "Cissy! I thought they burned you!"

Narcissa hugged the girl to her, petting her hair and looking to her friend in confusion. "What happened, Cress?"

"Nursery school." Cressida answered, and opened the book that had been dropped to the floor, showing the two pictures at the end of the book. "Notice a resemblance?"

Narcissa laughed, but shook her head. "Muggles. I'm fine, Hermione, really."

"I'm glad." Hermione answered softly.

"Again!" Aurora demanded, striking the floor with a staff and restarting the muggle record player.

"Aunt Rory, my shoes are pinching me." Hermione argued. "Can't we stop?"

"No." Aurora said, shaking her head and looking at the two children she was teaching. "Your parents want both of you to learn this."

"But dancing is for girls." Draco argued, pulling on the front of his dance robes.

"Your father dances, Draco." Aurora corrected. "Now, back in position!"

Curious, Hermione stopped, tilting her head. "Does mine dance?"

Aurora stopped, tilting her head. "What?" She asked the younger girl.

Hermione sighed. "Does my father dance? Draco's does, but does mine?"

Aurora closed her eyes and sighed. She should have known Hermione would back her into a corner with that. Ever since she had discovered that her godmother worked at the school with her father, Hermione had been pestering her to find out more about Severus. "Yes, he does." She said, after a moment. "Now back into position!"

Hermione and Draco traded a look of resignation and fell back into the position for the waltz.

"One...two...three...two...two...three...four...two...three…" Aurora counted out, using her stick to lift Draco's arm slightly and poking Hermione in the back so she would stop hunching. "Five...two...three...six...two...three."

Hermione was seated in her back garden on the swing, beside her best friend, Draco. The next day they would both be heading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For most young wizards and witches this was a night of excitement and glee, but these two were frowning slightly.

"We won't be able to talk anymore." Hermione said with a shake of her head. "We won't be friends."

Draco frowned at this. "We'll always be friends." He argued. "Just that no one else can know that we're friends."

Hermione frowned back. "You'll forget about me."

Draco reached into the pocket of his robes. "I got you a present." he admitted, pale cheeks slightly flushed. "I was going to give it to you before we left, but maybe now's better, so you have something to remind you that I'm not going to forget you." Most gifts he gave were wrapped by house-elves, expensive and presented formally. This one had been an impulse buy and he had kept it in his pocket for her. He dropped the bracelet of round moonstone beads into her hands.

"Draco…" Hermione said, holding up the bracelet in amazement, watching the glow of the jewels.

"It's not anything much…" Draco said, quickly. "I just know moonstone is used in lots of potions and the lady at the stall said it was good for protection and to keep a cool head and stay calm. I thought maybe you might need it while you're surrounded by Gryffindors."

Hermione slipped the bracelet on her wrist, and then threw her arms around the boy's neck. "It's the best present I've ever gotten!" She told him, completely missing the way his cheeks flushed. "I'll wear it always. Thank you, Draco!"

Draco hugged her back tightly, trying to hide his own nerves by reassuring hers. "You're welcome." He hated to think of her all alone, surrounded by Gryffindors, but all the adults insisted that she must, and that he had to treat her like any muggleborn. That wouldn't be easy, but maybe the bracelet would help and remind her that it was just an act.

He hoped so, anyway.