OMG. So I have to gush and give everyone who has added my story as a favorite, alert, or left a review the world's biggest internet hug known to mankind. A writer by nature, I have been blocked for months, and while it's only fanfiction - I feel other creativity stirring as I've been writing this week. I started writing this story around 9am this morning, and I finished I up about ten minutes ago (it's nearly 10pm where I live). It's the longest chapter (7000+ words) and I'm torn with it. I love it because I feel like it's going where I want it to go but I feel like it might be too dialogue heavy. Just my thoughts though. Only yours matter :) I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed spending my Saturday writing it.

Also...as always, still beta-less. I've been editing chapters in between writing breaks so excuse errors/continuity problems when you see them. I'll eventually catch them all.

"Mother? Mother are you here?"

Draco flooed into his mother's cottage, located in the countryside of Winchester, and only heard the echo of his voice. He hadn't made the trip out to see his mother since Hermione came back to London. Draco wasn't avoiding his mother, per say, but the relationship he and his mother had was a four-year work in progress. He often wondered if they could be just a normal mother - son duo, but with most everything having to do with a Malfoy, normal wasn't the norm.

He peered out the window of her sitting room, and saw her tending to her garden in the back of her house in her white linen dress robes, an wicker hat with a large brim perched atop her graying hair tied in place with a black satin bow beneath her chin. She began wearing her hair down after his father passed two years ago, only pinning it up with perfection when she had an event to go to - which was rare considering Narcissa never went anywhere formal without her husband, and now her son.

His attire was hardly appropriate for wandering in the gardens, as he flooed over from his office straight to her house. Just as Kingsley said, September 1 would be the day he'd fly solo, and fly he did. He had five cases reassigned to him, so he spent the day holed up in his new office getting familiar with the clients. He wore his charcoal gray suit with a deep plum colored tie Hermione picked out for him during her shopping been a few weeks back. Never did Draco ever think to own anything of the purple realm, but as he allowed her to tie the tie for him this morning, she ran her fingers over the slick fabric upon finishing and gushed. "Draco, it looks gorgeous on you!"

He'd wear a magenta tie with neon green polka dots if that were to be her reaction.

Draco walked out the side door of the cottage, stepping on each square stone that led him to the garden. "Hello, Mother."

Narcissa spun around, holding a basket in her hand filled with flowers. "Well hello, son," she said with a pleasant enough smile. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Not entirely possible," Draco said, hands in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on his feet. "Lovely flowers."

She smiled. "Just trying to enjoy as many flowers as I can before fall comes. I can hardly believe it's September already."

"Of course, Mother."

"Care to help me?" Narcissa asked.

"Certainly, Mother." Not exactly wild about walking around in the garden with his dress shoes, Draco opened the small white gate and walked towards her. He never tried a scourgify on imported Italian leather shoes before, but as soon as he stepped into a glob of mud near some over-watered plants, he realized that he'd be doing just that. He held back his trademark grimace and took a pair of sheers from his mother as they walked together towards a patch of black-eyed susans. "Sorry I've been away," he said, watching his mother out of the corner of his eye as she clipped the stems so he could replicate. "Work has been rather hectic."

"I used to hear your father say that all the time," Narcissa said, clipping a row of flowers in a tempo that mirrored her unspoken agitation, most likely to his lack of visiting. At least that's what Draco assumed.

Draco snipped a few flowers, laying them in her basket she held hooked on her arm. "Father used to work late so he could help conspire how to ruin lives of others while inadvertently ruining ours. I work all the time helping people who need it. Two entirely different things, if you ask me."

"You shouldn't speak ill of a man who is no longer around to defend himself," Narcissa said coolly.

"Even if he was around, Mother, he has no defense." He forcefully handed the sheers back to her. "I never understand it."

"Understand what, Draco?"

"How you have the ability to defend such a vile individual who was never worthy of being called a man in the first place."

Narcissa quickly shook her head. "I won't listen to you speak this way about your father. He may have done…unforgivable things, but he is still your father and I implore you to remember that."

"Because it would be so easy to forget," he snapped. Draco immediately regretted his tone when he saw his mother's usual steeled facade fade. "I'm sorry, Mother," he said, his voice losing its edge.

She gave him a small smile and cupped his cheek with her hand. "Apology accepted." As she turned around to continue her snipping, Draco rolled his eyes and reached his hands out as if he wanted to shake her for a split second. His mother never apologized for anything. If she ever did, he was sure he'd drop dead from the shock of it all. "You'll never guess whom I ran into the other day, dear," Narcissa said as she picked up her dress in the front as not to step on it while she walked across the gardens to her rose bushes.

"Probably not," Draco said, dutifully following her.

"Helena Greengrass," Narcissa said, an unnerving smile in her voice that was very much noticed by her son. "She asked about you, of course."

"Of course."

"And I told her, I said, 'Draco lives in London,' and she said, 'Why, so does Astoria!' so naturally, I said 'I'll be sure to tell him so he can call on her, properly of course,' and you know what Helena said to me, Draco?"

She knew. Of course his mother knew. The damn woman always knew everything and it was infuriating. His mother always avoided becoming a true Death Eater, most likely because his father managed to cut a deal with Voldermort to protect his wife. It was the only remotely honorable thing about his father - the love he had for his wife. That wasn't to say that Narcissa didn't share many of the beliefs, including the ideas of blood purity.

"The mudblo - sorry, muggles," Narcissa quickly corrected. "That you dated at University were one thing, Draco." She continued to cut roses with her back to Draco. "I figured it was a phase. Your father had just passed, and it was your way of, I don't know, rebelling maybe? I'm sure they were nice enough, the girls, not that you ever allowed me to meet any of them - "

"Get to the point, Mother," Draco said through his clenched jaw.

She whipped around, removing her gardening gloves and tossing them into the basket on the pile of flowers. "When were you going to tell me that you were involved with Hermione Granger?" Of all the women you could associate yourself with -"

"Don't say her name like that," Draco spat. "You have no idea who she is."

"I know enough about her," Narcissa spoke, an edge to her voice. "Your father - "

"Is no longer a factor in any part of my decision making, Mother, and hasn't been for quite some time." He kept his hands in his pockets, clenched into fists. "Secondly, not that it is any of your business, but Hermione and I are not involved…at least, not like that, anyway. I'd like to be, of course, but she's been back for a mere two months and it's not something either of us are rushing."

Narcissa sighed. "Draco…"

"No, Mother," he stated. "I won't hear any more about it. I care very much for her - more than I've ever cared about anyone - and you will not ruin it for me. Don't make me choose."

Her mouth dropped ever so slightly. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He walked towards his mother and lightly kissed her cheek, her mouth still agape. "I love you, Mother, despite everything. But don't test me on this."

Narcissa gave him a quick nod. "She's been back two months, you say?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I just wonder how attached one could possibly be in such a short span of time."

Draco scratched the back of his head and let out a sigh. "Attached enough to never regret choosing her, if that's what you force me to do."

Narcissa sighed. She untied the ribbon beneath her chin and removed her hat so she could look directly into Draco's eyes, the only part of her Draco inherited. He could see in his eyes that he was serious with the words he spoke. She remembered the same look, defending her husband to Andromeda when rumors sparked all those years ago about him taking the dark mark. "I cannot simply change the way I've been thinking for nearly a half century overnight."

"You can," Draco insisted. "Because your only son is asking you to."

Hermione ran into Harry at the Ministry, hoping she'd catch Draco before he left to tell him that she accepted Kingsley's offer to be the Deputy Head of International Magical Cooperation. Harry kissed her on the cheek, letting her know she just missed him, but that he could use a bit of help if she was up to it.

Harry held a finger to his lips as they flooed into his house. He tiptoed around the lower level, looking for any signs of Ginny. The spot by the door where she usually left her purse and James' travel bag were still gone. "Ok," he said with relief. "She's still at the Burrow. Quick - follow me."

Hermione obeyed, and walked out to Harry's workshop and saw random crib parts scattered around the place. He had a hopeless look on his face. "I still have three months before the baby gets here, but Gin is on my ass about this bloody nursery being put together so it is one less thing to worry about."

"Understandable," Hermione replied. "But Harry, I don't know how to build a crib any more than you do."

"But we could probably figure it out together," Harry said optimistically. "It's what we do, right? We see a problem, and we fix it."

"I'm not sure you can compare horcrux hunting to crib building." She picked up one what appeared to be the side of the crib. "I must say the pieces look to be well made."

"Building the pieces was actually rather easy. Arthur and Charlie helped me with that much - but don't tell Gin. He got all excited about using this tool called a jigsaw. You know how Arthur gets about muggle power tools. Pretty good with 'em too, as you can see."

Hermione laughed. "I guess figuring out how to put it together so that it doesn't collapse on my future godson won't be too difficult. We should probably paint the pieces first, though."

"Probably."

"Are you wanting to paint them with magic, or by hand?"

"Eh, I suppose we'd get the damn thing built quicker with a swish and flick."

"I'm sensing a 'but' in there."

Harry made a face. "My father, he built my crib with his hands and my mother, she carved the intricate designs that you can still see despite the wood stain I used when I restored the crib for James. I don't remember my parents, but I realized they loved me before they met me when I pulled that crib from storage. My parents created something with their two hands out of love for me. I want to do the same for my children."

Hermione stood next to him, linking an arm with his. "You're a good man, Harry Potter."

"I try," he said with sincerity.

"You wouldn't rather build this crib with Draco? Isn't that what men do together - manly things like construction?"

"Yes, well, I figured it might be a little too sentimental for Draco's demeanor," Harry said through a laugh. "Besides, I haven't really been able to talk to you since you've been back."

Hermione flashed him a smile. "I miss you too, Harry."

"Good. Now I just need to have the parts all separated, and I have these instructions that I printed off from the Internet - handy little invention if I do say so myself. I reckon it won't be too difficult to put together - I just needed an extra set of hands, is all."

"Right. So decide right now - swish and flick for the paint - or painting by hand."

"I don't suppose he'll love me less if I take the easy way out. Ginny does want it finished, after all."

"She does."

"I'm sure Albus will realize later in life that making his mother happy sometimes requires compromises."

Hermione nodded. Ginny was a dear friend of hers, but she was also very pregnant, and was stressing with wanting everything ready in case the baby came early. She could sympathize with Ginny - she'd probably be the same way. While Ginny had a back up plan, Hermione knew she was getting on Harry because he would have procrastinated it otherwise, thus forcing her to use the backup plan. She could be as flippant as she wanted when talking about Harry's sentimentality, but Hermione knew that Ginny found it more endearing than her words could express.

"Let's put it together," Hermione suggested. "And then once it's together, we can set a carving spell to imitate what your mother did to your crib. You can give Albus a piece of your parents just as you did for James."

Harry nodded, reaching for the hand she had clutched on his upper arm. "This is why I needed you, 'Mione. You always know what to do."

She let out a halfhearted laugh as the two began to separate the pieces in order that the directions said to. As Hermione began to put everything in a logical order, Harry was meddling, trying to get a start on putting the frame together. Frustrated, she snatched the instruction pamphlet from the table and wailed on his shoulder. "Stop touching everything for Merlin's sake!"

"Blimey, 'Mione!" he rubbed his shoulder. "Glad to see you're still violent."

"It's a folded pamphlet - I'm sure it won't scar," Hermione replied. The two stared at each other, irritated for seconds before laughing. "Some things may never change."

"That's what I usually hang my hopes on," replied Harry. "Now, are you done doing whatever it is that you do so we can get started?"

Hermione handed him a screwdriver, eight screws, and a bracket. "Let's build this thing."

Draco apparated from his mother's back yard into the Potters' living room. He wanted to talk to Harry and Ginny about his mother, because while he wanted her to change, he knew better than to wish for the impossible. Ginny especially had a way of putting things into perspective. He realized no one was inside, but through the large kitchen window, could see Harry and Hermione in his workshop through the sliding glass door entrance. She appeared to be bossing him around with tools, which meant he caved and asked her for help. Draco offered to help build the crib when he heard Ginny nagging him a week or so ago, but Draco was about as handy as Harry. While he enjoyed manual labor, there were some things he would always rely on magic for - and building anything was one of them.

Once again, he felt as if he was an intruder, watching the two of them interact. They were always in sync with each other, whether they were speaking or in complete silence. It wasn't that Draco was jealous of Harry. He knew Harry was madly in love with his wife. Draco hoped someday, he too would be as in sync with Hermione as she was with Harry. If it was any kind of jealousy, it was the kind that made him wish he were more like Harry. She was so comfortable around him, regardless of the situation. Draco and Hermione's comfort level with one another was increasing daily, but they still were cautious with each other.

"It gets less awkward with time."

Draco practically leapt out of his skin. "Who taught you to sneak up on people like that?"

"I have seven brothers." Ginny said with a laugh. "I'm excellent at skulking in the shadows."

"You should've been a Slytherin."

"Maybe." She stood in line with Draco, staring at her husband with Hermione. She knew she'd see Hermione in there building that crib with him eventually. "I used to be insanely jealous of Hermione," she admitted.

Draco gave her a look. "How is that possible? The entire school knew the torch she carried for Ron." He tried to keep his voice even as he said Ron's name, failing miserably.

If Ginny heard it, she didn't acknowledge it. "Yes, but when they left to look for the Horcruxes, and Ron abandoned them…I don't know. A boy and a girl, completely isolated from the world, nothing and no one but each other? I had all sorts of thoughts racing through my adolescent head. I was only sixteen, convinced Harry Potter was my soul mate and that he would be taken away from me."

"He is, isn't he? Your soul mate, anyway."

"Absolutely," Ginny said. "I've loved my husband since I was nine. But the two of them together…I know nothing happened when they were alone in the woods, or ever for that matter. I threatened to beat it out of him once - right before we were engaged."

"Shocking," Draco said, wrapping an arm around Ginny, giving her a squeeze. "You threatening violence."

"Shut it," Ginny replied with a smirk. They watched as Harry and Hermione laughed about something, her moving her hands like she was slicing something, only making Harry laugh harder. "She was so lost after her she found out her parents died, and he sat there with her for hours if she needed him to. Ron, of course, should have been the one consoling her, but Ron's didn't know what to do with her. It isn't an excuse for how he treated her, his selfishness, but it was what it was."

It was a rare moment to see Ginny with her guard down. Draco had only seen it one other time, nearly a year after James was born. Harry was out on a mission and James was sick with a double ear infection. The two of them weren't entirely friends yet, but she called flooed to his house in the middle of the night, just as exhausted and upset as the baby. Arthur and Molly were on a holiday to Morocco, and Ginny was out of options and her sanity was nonexistent. After an hour of pacing back and forth as Draco rocked the squalling infant, James eventually calmed down, and when Harry came home the next morning and found an empty house, he went straight to Draco's and found the three of them asleep on the couch. Ginny had her legs in Draco's lap, Draco had James tucked in the crook of his arm.

"Fair enough." He let go of Ginny and crossed his arms against his chest. "Did Harry ever tell you what happened in the woods?"

She shook her head no. "All I know of what happened is what I hear from Ron, because four years later he won't shut the hell up about it. Harry doesn't talk about it. All he said when I asked him was that he loved me, and being away from me reminded him of it daily."

Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I wonder if she and I will ever be that way."

"What way is that?"

"Like that," he gestured towards the workshop. "We've just recently started opening up to each other, but I hope one day, she and I are like that."

Ginny laughed. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out four glasses. Summoning a tray from the pantry, it floated towards her as she set the glasses on it. Ginny pulled a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and filled each glass. Putting the pitcher away, she grabbed the tray from mid air and set it on the counter. "I've known my husband a long time, and I'm pretty in tune with him and what goes on in that shaggy head of his, and he is the same with me." She walked towards the back door and Draco skipped a few steps, beating her to it so he could open it for her. "But Harry and Hermione's connection is borderline creepy."

"Are we going to interrupt them?" Draco asked.

Ginny set the tray down on the patio table. "Nah - they look like they're almost done. He'll notice us eventually." She sat down on the cushy patio chair and sighed. "James is spending the night at Mum's house. I'm so looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow."

Draco laughed. "Sounds like an excellent plan."

"I'm so rude," Ginny suddenly said, handing him a glass. "I didn't even ask why you came by, unless you were looking for Hermione."

"I was looking for you and Harry, actually. You more than Harry, really, not that he couldn't help, but I just needed to talk."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Is everything ok?"

"My mother knows," Draco confessed. "And I told her that if she made me choose, I'd choose Hermione."

"Draco Malfoy," Ginny said before taking a drink. "You're absolutely adorable when you don't mean to be.'

He rolled his eyes. "Don't get all sentimental on me, Gin."

She rested her hands on her belly, laughing. "Albus is quite the kicker. You want to feel?"

Draco held his hands up. "Yeah…no offense, Gin," he started to say as he felt his arm yanked forward. She pressed his hand on the side of her stomach, trapping it with her hands. His heart jumped as he felt one kick after the other. "Whoa," was all he could muster.

"Indeed." She let his hand go, and Draco was reluctant to pull it away. When he felt Albus kick again, he smiled before sitting back in his chair. "So your mother knows about Hermione and didn't take it well. She'll get over it."

Draco shook his head. "She won't. I know my mother. It isn't that she thinks there's anything wrong with Muggles, but she does think it wrong to marry one."

"Purebloods are a dying breed," Ginny remarked. "Unless you all wanted to marry your cousins to keep the dream alive."

He laughed at her sense of humor. "I've not talked about my mother yet with Hermione, though I suppose at some point, I'll have to."

"You're mother realizes that Hermione is one of the most powerful witches of any generation in recent memory, right? Ginny asked. "That's considering everyone - pure and half bloods alike."

"It's the principle of it all."

"And you want my advice about it?"

Draco nodded. "Though I think I know what you're going to say, I still need to hear it."

Ginny relaxed back in her chair and used her want to transfigure the empty chair next to her as a footstool so she could prop up her swollen ankles. "Your mother's happiness isn't worth a lifetime of misery. You have paid your dues to that life, and it doesn't fit in with who you've become. If you think that you can have a relationship with Hermione - an honest, loving, and respectful relationship that you both deserve - then your mother can either accept it, or learn what it truly means to be alone."

Draco sighed, slumping back in his chair. He yanked the knot in his tie and popped the top button of his collar. "I just have to hope that my mother will come around."

"And if she doesn't?"

He shrugged, staring as he saw Harry hug Hermione. He could tell she was upset, probably telling Harry something that Draco would have to pry out of her later. He wished he was the one hugging her. "I meant what I said. If my mother makes me choose, Hermione wins."

"So you really haven't shagged him?"

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione shrieked. "What kind of question is that?"

"An honest one - you've been in that house for two months."

"We don't even share a bed yet!"

"Wait - what?"

Hermione steadied the end of the crib against the two sides, the frame almost finished as Harry laid on the ground, trying to screw in the final screws through the brackets. "I kind of, thrash around in my sleep. Draco says when he checks on me in the morning, it looks like I've been at war with a mountain troll."

"Still?"

"What do you mean, still?"

Harry grunted, contorting his arm so he could angle the screwdriver to tighten the screws. "You used to sleep like that in the tent, and again right after the war ended." She could see the concern on his face. "How often are your nightmares?"

"I don't know, three times a week maybe. Depends on the week, you know?"

"How bad were they when you found out Ron was back?"

She looked away. "Every night," she mumbled.

"Same dream?"

Hermione nodded. "Except Draco is in them now."

"Draco isn't going anywhere," Harry said, finishing up the final screw. He looked at Hermione, who was looking everywhere but him. "Draco isn't going anywhere," he repeated. "Neither is Ginny, or James, or the baby, or me." Harry moved out from under the crib and Hermione grabbed his hands, helping him stand. "Let him in," he told her.

"I'm trying," Hermione said. She bit her lips together. "I'm just scared…"

"Of what?"

"Failure. Heartbreak. Investing time and energy into someone who will disappoint me when I need him the most." Hermione felt Harry pull her into him as she began to silently cry. She was so tired of her fear manifesting in tears.

Harry let her go a bit, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears. "Ron was never going to love you the way you were meant to be loved. If you take anything away from that relationship, 'Mione, then it should be that he showed you everything you didn't want."

She nodded, sniffling as she wiped her eyes again with the heels of her hand. "I'm so tired of being an emotional disaster," she said with a laugh.

"Those that love you don't mind," Harry said. He heard the slight sound of a familiar laugh, and looked out the sliding glass door, finding Draco with his hand forcefully pressed against Ginny's stomach. "Look at that," Harry said, pointing to his wife.

Hermione smiled. "Did you ever…"

"Never," Harry said. "Don't let Malfoy fool you - those two like each other a bit more than either will ever let on."

Laughing, Hermione shook her head. "He can be very sweet."

Harry agreed. "Let him sleep with you - wait no, no, no, no, not like that!" he stuttered. "I mean, if you want to, your choice, obviously, but the actual act of sleeping in the same bed as you - let him."

"He won't - he thinks I might maim him."

"You won't."

She raised her eyebrows. "How would you…"

He shrugged. "The tent. I used to crawl in bed with you when I'd hear you." His cheeks blushed a deep red, his hands fiddling with each other. "I'd uh, hold on to you, you know, before it would get bad and uh, you would go right back to sleep."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, staring at him. "Why would…you didn't have to."

"I did," Harry argued. "It may not be blood, but you're my sister. I'd do anything to protect you." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. "Let's call it a night, shall we?"

She grinned, following him out of the workshop.

"We were wondering when you'd join us," Draco said, grinning widely as Hermione walked up to him, perching herself on his lap. "How was your day as a lady of leisure?"

"My last day, actually," Hermione announced. "I took Kingsley up on his job offer."

Ginny screamed, clapping her hands together. "Hermione that's wonderful news!" She looked at Harry, who sat down next to her, reaching for her hand.

"It is," Harry agreed. He brought his wife's hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. "Missed you today."

"Back at you, Potter," she said with a wink. "James' is staying at Mum's for the night. Teddy and Victorie are staying as well."

"Really?" Harry said with intrigue.

"Really."

Harry looked over at Draco and Hermione. "Go home."

As Ginny felt Harry pulling her from the chair, she laughed and swatted his chest. "Harry Potter don't be rude!"

Hermione laughed, climbing off of Draco as he stood up behind her. "It's perfectly fine. I'm sure we'll see you this weekend."

Ginny resisted Harry pulling her towards the house. "Harry! Draco actually came to talk to you."

"You took care of it," Draco said to Ginny. "Promise." Grabbing Hermione's hand, he walked away towards the middle of their back yard. "I'll catch up with you tomorrow, Potter."

"Sure thing," Harry called, not even bother to look back as he pulled Ginny into the house, snogging her as he kicked the door shut with a foot.

Laughing as they apparated back to Draco's house, Hermione grabbed ahold of Draco's tie and pulled him close to her. "I want to be like them someday," she confessed.

Draco snaked a arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "We will be."

Her fingers stroked the soft satin material of his tie. "Have I told you how sexy your tie is today?"

"I believe you used the word gorgeous this morning."

"That too." She stood on her toes and stole a kiss. "Want me to make some dinner? You can tell me all about your day."

He sat at the kitchen table, watching Hermione as she whipped up a batch of three-cheese pasta. Draco told her about all the case files he read through today, and how he was taking the cases that required Ministry-appointed lawyers. Even if they were in the wrong, Draco wanted to help them get the fairest decision possible from the Wizengamot. He was convinced he would do great things for the Ministry, most of his confidence fueled by Kingsley's consistent faith in him.

Hermione served dinner, placing two bowls in front of them while Draco got up to retrieve a bottle of wine and two stemless goblets. "It smells delicious."

"Thanks," Hermione said. "I'm glad you had such a great first day."

Draco nodded. "I was worried at first, when I met a few of the clients. Not everyone jumps for joy when they hear my name, you know."

Hermione stabbed the penne pasta with her fork. "Yes, but Kingsley gave them to you. Everyone trusts the Minister - he's already been revered as one of the greatest Ministers Wizard Britain has ever had. By default they will trust you."

"If they don't?" Draco countered.

"They will," Hermione stated.

"They might not."

"Kingsley will know what to do." Her voice was reassuring. How she was so confident in him but not in herself he would never understand.

"Are you excited about starting work on Monday?"

"I am, I mean, I still feel like I should be doing more…but I just have to know that I'll recognize it when I see it."

"I'm sure you will," Draco replied. "I hear the International Magical Cooperation department is in need of some structure - I'm sure you'll have your hands plenty full until then."

She nodded, taking another bite. "Kingsley says I can use whatever means necessary to get it up and running in tip-top shape."

"So essentially he's given you the freedom to be you."

"You act like it's a bad thing."

"I'd actually quite like to watch you work - bossing people around. It's quite the turn-on."

Hermione kicked him lightly under the table as he shot her a wicked grin. "You're terrible."

"You love it."

"Maybe."

After dinner, Draco noticed Hermione sifting through his medicine cabinet near the kitchen sink, looking for something but not finding it. Draco didn't keep much medicine in his house, but he was also curious as to what she could possibly be looking for.

"Pain potion," she said, feeling his eyes watching her.

"Are you ok?"

"My back hurts. I wore heels today to get back into the habit, since I'm about to be working again, and my back and well, legs too, are a bit sore."

"Then why wear the shoes. I keep the pain potion in my room."

She followed him up the back staircase. "Because they make me taller, and they're pretty."

"So you torture yourself all day because they're pretty."

"And they make me taller." Walking into Draco's room, she realized it was the first time she'd actually been inside instead of catching a glimpse as she walked down the hall. It was truly a master suite, decorated to the nines with regal shades of blue and cream. His bed looked heavenly, and the bathroom that was connected was just as impressive. Two walk in closets lined the small hall that connected his room. Her feet dipped into the plush carpet with each step before finding a large claw foot tub in the middle of the room, a shower tucked in a far corner, with two vanities placed near the windows. A white couch sat in another corner, a pair of socks and a crumpled pair of slacks leaning across the arm. "I'm glad you didn't show me this sooner."

Draco pulled a vile of pain potion from the medicine drawer and handed it to her. "Why's that?"

"Because I would have said no to Kingsley, and moved in to this room. Look at all the closet space!"

"That's what my mother said when I bought it."

"That tub is to die for."

"You can use it whenever," Draco tried to say without sounding like he wanted her naked in that tub all the time, preferably with him in it.

"Don't tease me."

"It's yours whenever you fancy it." He watched as she downed the pain potion, wincing a bit at the taste before wrenching the handles on the tub. "Fancying it now?"

"Yep." She sauntered out of the bathroom and down the hall to her room, collecting clean pajamas to change into. Discarding her current outfit in the hamper, she slipped into her short red robe, grabbed her pajamas, and walked back into Draco's room. She found the tub filling with lilac scented bubbles. "I could die right now."

Draco walked past her and stole a kiss. "Please don't. I'd miss you." Walking out of the bathroom, he unknotted his tie and hung it back up in his wardrobe. He did his best to ignore the fact that there was a naked Hermione in his bathroom, but it was an impossible task. As he changed out of his work pants into a pair of flannel pajama pants, he did everything he could do to eliminate his erection.

"Draco?" Hermione's voice echoing from the bathroom was certainly not helping. "Draco I forgot to grab a wash cloth. Could you bring me one?"

Torture. She was trying to kill him - Draco was convinced of it. "Uh…yes, dear."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine!" he shouted quickly. It took him a minute, but the memory of walking in on Goyle and Millicent in the Slytherin common room fifth year. He'd never seen more uncoordinated lumps of flesh in his life. Like a train wreck, it took him a moment process what he was witnessing, and another minute to shout at them before darting out of the room, not in the mood to test his upchuck reflex. Clad in only his pants, he strolled as casually as he could muster into the bathroom. Opening a cabinet built into the wall, he pulled out a washcloth and looked at Hermione. Her head, shoulders, and kneecaps all that was visible around the surrounding bubbles. "Here you go."

Hermione stared at his chest. It was better than she'd imagined it all those times her head was curled up against it. She reached out a suds covered arm and took the washcloth.

"Like what you see?" Draco teased.

"Maybe."

"Is the tub everything you'd hoped it would be?"

She nodded. "Most definitely." She could feel the muscles in her body relaxing. She hadn't had a bath this heavenly since Hogwarts. "I swear I could sleep in here."

"Ew," Draco said. He walked over to the couch, a safe distance away, and sat down. "You'd wake up all wrinkly and pruned."

"You're probably right," she said, giggling. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips. Harry's words from earlier echoed in her mind. He'll never leave you. She looked over at him, watching him as he flipped through an automobile magazine. "Draco?"

"Yes," he said, keeping his eyes glued to an article about the latest Audi coming off the assembly line. He wasn't actually comprehending anything he was reading, but it kept him from thinking about her naked.

"What are we?"

"Wizards."

"Draco," she stretched out his name. He looked up at her with a smirk. "I'm just wondering what this is."

"You're naked in my bathroom, Granger. I'd call it a relationship."

"Would you?"

"Do you see any other naked witches in here?"

"Draco!"

He closed the magazine up and sat it next to him. "I hear you," he said. He looked into her eyes, sensing fear almost. "I like you, Hermione. I like you more than I care to admit aloud to anyone but you because it requires expressing emotion."

Hermione grabbed the bar of soap from the dish and lathered it in the washcloth, gingerly washing her arms and torso underneath the bubbles. "I want to tell you so many things…"

"And I promise I will listen to everything."

"And if it gets too hard?"

"We'll figure it out together."

She looked at him, the sincerity in his voice tugging her heart. "Promise?"

"Malfoys don't make promises they can't keep."

Cautiously, she sat up, bringing her knees to her chest, her chin on the forearms resting on her knees. "I was talking to Harry tonight, while helping him with the crib."

"Yes…" he was surprised at her willingness to discuss anything she'd talked about with Harry, but wasn't about to point it out. He leaned back into the couch, resting his ankle on the opposite knee.

"I don't know when I'll be…ready to talk to you about my parents. But everything else…I'm ready. Ask and I will answer."

He shook his head no. "You tell me what you want me to know - on your terms."

She swallowed hard. "I'm terrified you'll abandon me."

The blunt way she blurted her fear made his ears ring. He all but leapt up from the couch and rushed to her, kneeling down in front of the tub so he was eye level with her. Draco braced his hands on the curved edge of the tub. "It will never happen."

"You can't promise that."

"What part about me saying that Malfoys don't make promises they can't keep did your brilliant little head not understand?" he asked lightly.

She gave him a small smile. "Will you grab me a towel?"

"You're awfully needy tonight," he teased.

"I want to talk to you some more - and would like to do so nestled in your arms in that delightful bed I saw in your room.

That peaked his interest. "Oh really?"

"Really."

He got up and retrieved a gigantic bath sheet from his closet. He held it out in front of his face, hearing her stand up out of the sloshing water. She flick the drain open with her foot before reaching her arms over the top of the towel, keeping her modesty in tact as she wrapped the towel around her thin frame. She held the hand he offered her as she stepped out, beads of water trailing down her legs. "Such a gentleman," she said with a kiss on the cheek.

"Only to you," he replied.

He left her to change and went into the bedroom. Tossing the decorative throw pillows to his side of the bed on the floor, he turned down the bed and climbed on his side. She meandered into the room a few minutes later wearing a thin, paisley print night dress with small straps and a hem that fell just short of her knee. Hermione walked over to the right side of the bed as if it was something she did every day, climbing in under the covers and scooting close to Draco. She pressed her back into his chest and welcomed the possessive arm around her chest. Hermione hung her hands on his arm and sighed, feeling protected in his embrace as they nestled under the covers.