A/N: So, apparently there was a glitch when I uploaded Chapter 23, and email notifications weren't sent out. So if you're following this - and I thank you kindly for doing so – you may have missed it.

Two weeks before Draco and Scorpius were to return to their respective schools, Hermione got sick.

It started with an annoying tickle in her throat, which she ignored and waved it away as nothing, but within two days the tiny tickle had turned into a hacking cough and she was aching all over and completely miserable. Draco, along with Pansy, Ginny and Katie, ordered her to bed, with strict instructions that she was not to move for at least three days.

She had protested and told them that she was fine, that there was no way she was missing a day and if they insisted, they would have to drag her away, kicking and screaming. Pansy told her that wouldn't be a problem if she insisted and that she'd be more than happy to be the one to do the dragging. And after telling her that she was a filthy bag of zombie germs (a comment that had Scorpius laughing endlessly) and that she was not to come near any of them, Pansy had promised her that they wouldn't burn the shop down or let any unsavoury characters through the door.

Hermione had finally relented, telling them that she certainly wouldn't need three days in bed, one day would be plenty. But if she was being totally honest, right at that moment, bed sounded like heaven.

Draco had hovered around her, which she found both charming and incredibly annoying. It had been a long time since she'd had someone to care for her when she was feeling poorly and she appreciated the gesture. But she'd also had to take care of herself every preceding time, and was quite capable of doing so. However, she didn't want him to think she was pushing him away yet again, and allowed him to fuss over her.

And after sleeping for only a few hours, she woke up shivering. The fever had hit, and the inevitable fight with her bed covers began; kicking them off for fear she would spontaneously combust with the heat radiating off her, and then pulling them back over herself just minutes later when the cold shivers started. She could barely remember the first two days, sure she had been speaking in a language other than English when the delirium of her fever was at its peak, she just wasn't sure which language it had been. And now the demanded three days of rest had long since gone by, and almost a week later she still felt like death.

Draco had refused to sleep in the spare room, ignoring her insistent pleas for him to do so, telling her that if he got sick as well it wouldn't matter. Molly and Scorpius could take care of them and they could be feverish and snotty together. She had, however, noticed that he hadn't slept under the covers. Clearly the heat of radiating form her was too much to for him, besides, she had turned the covers into her own cocoon, leaving nothing for him to sleep under anyway.

She had managed to venture out to the living room two days before to lay on the couch, wearing her favourite cookie monster pyjamas, her ratty old Rolling Stones t-shirt and wrapped tightly in her bathrobe. She was feeling guilty about not seeing Scorpius for any significant length of time in the last few days, but she had only lasted ten minutes into whichever movie he was watching before she was asleep on the couch, with her head on Draco's lap, his hand stroking lazily through her hair.

And aside from feeling like hell, she was pissed. She never got sick, she couldn't even remember the last time she had a cold, let alone a fever and the flu. She had wanted to spend the last two weeks of Draco's and Scorpius' summer holidays with them, not in bed curled up, fluctuating between sweating like she was in the African desert and shivering like she was naked in the Antarctic.

"It's fucking summer." Hermione choked out when the bedroom door opened. Her throat was dry and scratchy, and her voice was barely above a whisper. "It's fucking summer and I get a fucking cold."

Scorpius giggled and she lifted her head off the pillow and grimaced, "Oops." She said, "Sorry, I thought you were your dad."

"That's okay," Scorpius whispered conspiratorially, "I won't tell him what you said. Are you feeling better?"

"No, not at all," Hermione dropped head back to the pillow. She turned her head to look at him and winked, "Don't tell your dad that either."

Scorpius nodded and told her that he wouldn't, "He said you need to drink this." He handed her a glass of orange juice and she screwed her nose up, "No, you have to drink it. It's good for you."

"But I don't want to," she whined, knowing she was acting like a child in front of a child, but he just laughed.

"You sound like me. I hate juice when I'm sick, but Dad makes me drink it anyway." He grabbed her empty water glass and disappeared into the en suite bathroom to refill it for her. He placed it back on her night stand and pressed his palm to her forehead mimicking Draco's actions of the last few days, and she had to stifle a laugh. "Hmm," he hummed seriously, "You're still awfully warm. And you haven't drunk your juice."

"My most humble apologies, Dr. Malfoy," She said and took a swallow of juice. She winced as it burned her throat, but Scorpius smiled, pleased that she had at least taken a small drink. "Another day in bed then?"

He nodded, "I think it's for the best."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Hermione laughed, and then started coughing which forced her to sit up. Laying down, the harsh barking cough burned her lungs, not that sitting made it any easier, her lungs felt like they were close to bursting. Scorpius rubbed a soothing hand across her back telling her that he was sure that she'd be better soon.

"Do you need me to do anything else?" He asked, his voice was full of concern.

She smiled at him through watery eyes, "Actually yes. I need you to lay down here with me and tell me about your day. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." She reached for the tissues beside the bed and wiped at her face, cursing the cold and fever that was wreaking havoc on her body.

Scorpius clambered up beside her, propping himself up on Draco's pillows, "Dad says you work too much. That's why you're sick when it's summer."

Hermione rolled to her side so she could see him properly, "He said that, did he?"

Scorpius nodded, "Yeah. And Pansy said we have to make sure you stay here until you're better. You're not allowed to go downstairs until all the zombie germs are gone."

"I don't actually have zombie germs, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. But it's funny," Scorpius laughed and then shifted to his side and mirrored her pose, "Hermione, do you miss your mum?"

Hermione nodded, "Sometimes I do, why do you ask?"

He shrugged, "When I get sick I always miss my mum, even though I didn't know her. Dad does a pretty good job, but everyone says that mums always look after you when you're sick. So I thought maybe you miss your mum because you're sick."

Hermione coughed into her hand, and then reached for the water Scorpius had placed on her nightstand, "I think you're taking excellent care of me, you and your dad, so I think my mum would be very pleased with you for doing that. Besides, Molly is kind of like my mum. She watches out for me."

Scorpius nodded, "Yeah, she took care of you yesterday when Dad and I went out."

Hermione had insisted that since they had so little time left on holidays, Draco and Scorpius were not to spend the remainder of it watching after her. She had grumbled that she wasn't going anywhere, she was barely able to get herself from the bed to that bathroom without feeling light headed, and ordered them to go and enjoy some time outside.

So Draco had taken him, James and Teddy to the park to play football and drink fizzy drinks and eat hamburgers and chips. They had been gone for half the day. Molly had insisted that she stay with Hermione, which Hermione had grumbled about, but had secretly been grateful for when Molly - muttering about vegetarians and that chicken would be better - had brought her vegetable broth, it being the first thing she'd been able to stomach for almost a week.

"She did look after me," Hermione agreed, "And I bet she cleaned up out there too." No matter how tidy her flat was, Molly always felt the need to clean it even more.

Scorpius shook his head, "No, but I think she was kind of cross at Dad, because he already cleaned up."

"Ooh, she wouldn't have been happy about that."

"Nope." He said and then asked, "So she's your Molly, like you're my Hermione?"

Hermione hadn't thought about it like that and she told him so, adding, "She's been my Molly for a long time."

"Was she nice, your mum?"

"She was," Hermione said with a nod, "She was busy all the time-"

"Like you," Scorpius interrupted.

Hermione reached out and poked him playfully in the ribs, making him squirm and laugh, "Yes, Mr cheeky-face, like me. She like to be busy, and kind of went a bit mental if she had nothing to do."

"What else?"

Hermione took another sip of water before continuing, "Well, let's see. She loved hugs. Everyone she knew got a hug from her every time she saw them. It was how she greeted them and how she said goodbye."

"Would she have hugged me?"

"Would she have hugged you? Oh, she would never have let you go," Hermione told him, "She would have adored you. She loved reading and she loved building Lego, and do you know what her favourite movie was?" Scorpius shook his head, and Hermione told him, "The Princess Bride."

"But that's my favourite." Scorpius exclaimed, "We could have watched it together."

Hermione nodded, "And she would have watched it over and over with you, she loved it almost as much as you do."

"What else did she love?"

"She loved owls." Hermione shuddered. Her mother's owl collection was still in storage. She couldn't bring herself to throw them away, but she refused to have them in her flat. She had always thought them creepy and never understood her mother's obsession with them.

Scorpius screwed his face up, "I don't like birds."

"Me neither," Hermione told him with the same expression on her face.

"They're weird and creepy, and I'm always scared they'll swoop down and peck my eyes out." Scorpius winced and shivered.

Hermione laughed, and then coughed, and coughed. Scorpius looked at her with concern, asking if she needed anything. She shook her head, and took another sip from the glass, attempting to sooth her throat. She swallowed the remaining water and Scorpius took it and refilled it without her asking.

"I don't like birds either," she told him when her lungs finally calmed, "All those feathers, and their spindly legs."

Scorpius laughed, laying back down beside her, but still looking at her as if her head would explode, "Hey," she squeezed his hand, "I'm fine. A couple more days and I'll be right as rain."

"What about your dad?" he asked, seeming to be comforted by her assurance, "What was he like?"

"Oh, my dad," Hermione laughed, "Well, he was very silly and took nothing very seriously. He told such bad jokes that he made me groan all the time. And he also loved to read."

"Like you too," Scorpius said, "You're like your mum and your dad."

"I guess I am," Hermione mused, "He taught me to read, and she taught me to work hard. And they both taught me to love everyone around me."

Scorpius smiled, "Do you think they would have liked me and dad?"

"Oh, I have no doubt that they would have loved you both." And she knew it was true. Her parents would have thought that the two men in her life were wonderful. They would have loved them from the start, exactly as she had. But she told herself, that maybe if her parents were still here, Draco and Scorpius would not have been.

Things happen for a reason, just as her mother always had said, and Hermione wondered if there had been no car crash, would the boys be here with her? And no car crash, might also have meant no tumour for Astoria, and that would have definitely meant no Draco and Scorpius in her life. The Butterfly Effect at its best, she told herself and then shook her head. No, this was meant to be and she knew her parents would definitely approve of them both.

She touched Scorpius' cheek, "My mum would have given you so many hugs, no one else would have gotten the chance to give you any. She would have made you call her grandma, and she would have spoiled you rotten and let you get away with murder. And my dad? He would have made you laugh until your tummy hurt and he would have read you every story that has ever existed. Your dad and I wouldn't have ever had to read to you, my dad would have just taken over."

"I think I would have liked them too." He gave her a heart melting smile and she couldn't help but fall in love with him just a little more than she already did.

She smiled back, "I'm sorry you didn't get to meet them."

"Me too," Scorpius sighed, and pressed his hand to her forehead again, "I think you might be getting better."

"I think you might be right," she agreed, not that she felt any different than when he first came in the room, but she wouldn't tell him that. "Do you think that your Dad might have dinner ready? Maybe I could try some more of Molly's soup."

"See," He said brightly, "You are feeling better."

Draco was sitting on the floor outside their bedroom. He'd come to check on her, to make sure Scorpius had done what he'd asked; to make sure she had water, and that she was drinking it. It was nearing dinner time, and he was hoping to get more of Molly's soup into her. She seemed to have improved since she'd managed to keep it down the previous day, and he hoped that meant she was on the mend.

But when he heard them talking, he couldn't bring himself to enter the room, not wanting to interrupt the pair as they chatted. Instead, he leaned against the wall, listening to his son ask her if she was feeling better and ask about her parents, listened to him ask the questions he had wanted to ask her himself.

He had slid down the wall to sit on the floor, leaning against it, feeling slightly guilty about eavesdropping on their conversation, but not wanting to miss anything they were saying. It was far too adorable, far too heart warming that his son was so concerned about her.

He had wondered briefly about her parents, what they would have thought of him and his son. Would they have liked him? Would they have accepted him; a single dad with a seven year old coming into her life, invading her space, turning her instantly into a mother? He was fairly certain that they would have, the stories he'd heard made him sure he would have had their approval.

Her friends – who pretty much considered themselves her family – had told him about them, tiny snippets here and there, about her father and his crazy antics, and he often wondered what that would have been like. To have a father who actually showed interest in you, interest more than how high your grades were.

And he often saw glimpses of just what he assumed her father would have been like in her. When she was teasing Scorpius, playing and mucking about with him. He saw the glint in her eyes, heard the goofy laugh, and knew that was her father. The neat and tidy, hard working version was clearly her mother. And he found himself smiling at the fact he probably would have had to impress her mother more than her father.

It had been almost three months since he'd asked her to marry him, two since Scorpius asked her to be his mother, and almost nothing had changed. They had slipped so easily into each other's lives, and the little family they had created had come about much easier than he ever thought possible.

Scorpius had been far too young to remember his mother and it was almost entirely the reason he had avoided any sort of relationship, not knowing just how his son would react to someone taking on the role, not sure if someone actually wanted to take on the roll. Because that what it had meant to be with him; instant motherhood, a daunting task for anyone.

But he really had no reason to worry. Not with Hermione in any case. While she had some reservations to begin with, she hadn't ever shied away from him, in fact it had been the complete opposite. She had accepted that he had a son, and accepted everything that went with that. And Scorpius loved her, had loved her from the first time they had met. He had talked about her endlessly from the first morning he had met her in the shop, and all of Draco's own fears – because he had fallen for her from the minute her first met her – disappeared, and he had no concerns about introducing his son to her so soon.

And now here he was, sitting in the hallway outside their bedroom, listening to them as they talked. Talked as if they had been in each other's lives for much longer than the ten or so months it actually was.

His mind wandered to Astoria, and he sighed. He knew that Astoria would adore Hermione. He knew that she would be happy that they found someone who loved them both as much as she did, someone who accepted the fact that he had a son and that his son was always a priority. And he knew that she would be pleased that Draco had found someone he had fallen so deeply in love with.

Blaise had been right – not that he'd ever tell him so - he had indeed managed to find the perfect girl again. He would always love Astoria, she was Scorpius' mother and nothing could change that. And Hermione knew that, even encouraged it, knowing that it was important for Scorpius to know that it was okay to ask about her and talk freely about her, and that simply made him love Hermione all the more. She was someone different, someone special, someone who had been to hell and back and still managed to smile every day, and that made her someone he couldn't imagine not loving.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard her say, "Do you think that your Dad might have dinner ready? Maybe I could try some more of Molly's soup." He scrambled up from the floor and tried not to thump his feet on the floorboards as he made his way quickly down the hallway, not wanting to be caught listening in on their conversation.

"Hey, you two," He said cheerfully, if not a little breathlessly, from behind the counter as they both came into the living room. He looked at Scorpius, "You haven't been keeping her awake have you?"

"No, we were just talking, and I was trying to make her feel better." Scorpius told him.

"Did it work?"

"She's out here, isn't she?"

Hermione sniggered, "I do feel better actually, much thanks to Dr. Malfoy here. What's for dinner?"

Draco raised his eyebrows at her, "Spicy Thai chicken for me and Scorp, vegetable soup for you."

Her stomach lurched and she scrunched her nose, "Yeah, maybe I'm not feeling better."

"But its Molly's soup," Scorpius told her, "And you said you loved it."

She hugged him to her side and kissed the top of his head, "I'll try to eat something, but I'm not making any promises that it'll stay down."

"Eww," Scorpius groaned and pushed away from her, "Maybe Pansy was right, I think you do have zombie germs."

"How long were you listening for?" Hermione asked when Draco finally joined her in bed.

He'd let Scorpius stay up later than usual, enjoying the last few days that remained of their holidays. Hermione had intended to join them, but decided that a shower was much needed since she was gross and didn't know how either of them could stand being near her. Scorpius had laughed, and told her that she wasn't that gross, just a tiny bit, which had her pulling him into a bear hug and blowing raspberries all over his face.

He'd laughed and squirmed, telling her she was gross and she should shower all her gross zombie germs off her. Hermione had huffed in mock indignation, and headed off to wash the last few days off her, and Draco knew she was definitely feeling better. He and Scorpius had watched two episodes of Doctor Who, before Scorp was yawning and blinking to keep awake. He ushered him off to bed, barley reading three pages with him before he was snoring. He did a final sweep of the kitchen and living room, making sure everything was tidy before heading off to find her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He grinned and lay beside her.

"Yes you do," She coughed and cursed loudly about still being sick, "I heard you racing down the hallway."

Draco kissed her forehead, "You caught me, yeah?" She nodded, "I guess I heard most of it. Sorry. I shouldn't have listened; it wasn't my place, that was between him and you."

"I don't mind," she said before correcting, "No, actually I do."

He grimaced, "Sorry?"

"No, I just meant that you should have joined us. I could have answered all your questions too."

He kissed her again, "I think you did."

"Thank you for taking care of me this week," She put her hand on his chest, but didn't move closer, she was still warm and his body heat would not do anything more than make her hotter, and not in the good sense of the word.

"In sickness and in health, my love."

Hermione laughed, "We've not promised that yet."

"You're right we haven't," He kissed her cheek, "But it's implied."

"Oh, I see." She propped herself up on her elbow, "Any idea as to when the implication will become a reality?"

His eyebrows winged up to his hairline. They'd not discussed a wedding date, had not discussed anything wedding related. He had figured that he'd let her take the lead since he messed up the proposal good and proper. "Um, well, that's…"

"That's…?" Hermione was grinning at him, knowing full well she'd stumped him.

"That's an interesting question."

"And does that interesting question have an answer?"

Draco rolled to face her, leaning his head on his palm, "I'm not sure. Does it?"

She smiled and shook her head, "I don't know, you tell me."

"Hermione," Draco said in an even tone, belying the fact that his heart was beating a million miles a minute, "You have to tell me. If you want to set a date, just say it. I cont care when or where, but you need to tell me if you do."

She lowered herself down, laying her head on the pillow. "Can I be honest?" she asked and Draco nodded, "I thought I'd be happy just like this. Just staying engaged and that would be it, no ceremony, no reception, none of it. Just a ring that says I'm committed to you, and you to me. But after talking with Scorp, I think I want to."

"You think?"

"No. I don't think, I know." She reached out and traced his eyebrow, "I know I want to. And I know my mum and dad would have wanted me to. I meant what I said to Scorpius, they would have loved you."

"I'm sure I would have loved them too," Draco kissed her palm, "And I'm sorry I didn't get to meet them."

Hermione smiled, her thoughts from earlier filtering back into her head. Her father would have loved him instantly; their mutual love of Greek Mythology would have won him over in a second. Her mother would have observed him, watched closely at just how much he adored her daughter. She would have watched the quite moments where Draco would simply lift her hand to his lips and kiss her; where he would touch her shoulder and speak quietly to her, wanting her to know exactly what he was thinking right at that moment. And the clincher would have been when Hermione told her mother that he always waited for her to go to sleep each night before dropping off himself.

"Dad would have loved you instantly," she told him, "But mum would have been harder to win over."

Draco laughed, it was exactly as he'd suspected and he told her so, "I figured. I imagine your mum to be very much like you."

"I hope that's a compliment," she said through narrowed eyes.

"It definitely was," He said, "But listen, are you serious about this? The getting married thing?"

Hermione was about to give him shit for calling it the getting married thing, but instead she gulped in too much air and it turned into a coughing fit. Draco bolted for the bathroom, returning with a glass of water for her and smoothing his hand across her back.

"Fuck!" she croaked, "When will this end?"

He pressed his hand to her forehead, "Definitely cooler, I'm sure it won't last much longer."

She flopped back down to the mattress, expelling a frustrated huffed of breath, "Marriage thing?"

Draco nodded, "Yes, this marriage thing. The choice is yours. You pick the date, and I'll be there."

"That doesn't seem fair," she said, "This is about both of us, not just me."

Draco shifted closer, laying his head on his own pillow so he was at eye level with her, and tangling his legs with hers. But she shifted away, "I'm too hot," she told him, and he smirked.

"Too right you are," he agreed, but left the space she had made between them.

She rolled her eyes at him and then asked, "How about New Years?"

"New Years?" Draco looked surprise, "That's only four months away."

"It is, and I think it's perfect." Hermione nodded and then added, "Oh, that's if Clara and Cuthbert don't mind."

"I'm sure they won't. We can just switch Scorp's week with them."

"It doesn't have to be," Hermione said, "We can wait until next summer, it'll be easier with Scorpius. And it won't interfere with their time with him."

Draco was smiling at her, "What?" she asked.

"New Years will be perfect." He said, "Clara and Cuthbert won't care. In fact, they can stay here with him so we can enjoy our wedding night without having to be quiet."

Hermione grinned, "Now, it might be the fever delirium I'm feeling, but did we just set a date?"

Draco slid closer to her, and she began to protest, "No," He said firmly, "I don't care if you're covered in zombie germs, and I don't care if you're too hot. I'm going to kiss you right now, and you're going to let me. Because we just set a wedding date."

He leaned into her, making good on his promise. He kissed her hard, kissed her like he hadn't in a week - which he hadn't. She wouldn't let him, telling him she was gross and disgusting and he would only catch all of her germs.

She pulled back, catching her breath and smiled up at him, "In sickness and in health?"

Draco laughed, "Yes, in sickness and in health."

A/N:

Cheers again for all the kind words and encouragement to keep going with this. I find myself slightly baffled that so many people are reading my work – but then I guess that's the point of sharing it with you all. So big squeezy hugs to everyone who is sticking with this and taking a chance on a non-magical version of my favourite characters.