Hermione woke early the next morning, the events of the night before still heavy on her mind. She had dropped Peter Pettigrew off at the Ministry, leaving him paralyzed and stuck to the ground, ensuring he couldn't escape. Her heart was slightly lighter, knowing she had taken a significant step toward justice. But her heart ached for the peace she would never know again.

As dawn's light filtered through the curtains, she made her way to Neville's room. She found him already awake, babbling softly to himself. A smile crept onto her face as she leaned over the crib, scooping him up into her arms.

"Good morning, my little ray of sunshine," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Neville giggled, reaching up to tug on a lock of her hair. Hermione laughed softly, warmth spreading through her chest. These moments with Neville were precious, a brief respite from the turmoil that had become her life.

She carried him downstairs to the kitchen, where Augusta was already bustling about, getting the house elves to prepare breakfast. Frank sat at the table, his expression as hard as ever. He glanced up as Hermione entered, his eyes narrowing slightly. Hermione met his gaze for a moment before looking away, focusing on Neville instead.

"Good morning, Augusta," Hermione greeted warmly.

"Good morning, dear," Augusta replied, her tone kind but tinged with weariness. "Did you sleep well?"

"As well as could be expected," Hermione said, settling Neville into his high chair.

Augusta watched her closely for a moment before nodding. "You've done a great deal for us, Hermione. I appreciate it."

Hermione smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I promised to help, and I intend on keeping my promise."

Frank's gaze burned into her back, but he remained silent. Hermione knew he didn't trust her, and she couldn't blame him. She had intruded into their lives, brought chaos with her presence. But she also knew that Augusta trusted her, at least to some extent. The older woman had made her swear on her magic that she meant no harm to Neville, and Hermione had done so without hesitation.

As she busied herself with feeding Neville, Hermione caught snippets of the conversation between Augusta and Frank. They were speaking in low tones, but the kitchen was quiet enough that their words carried.

"Mother, I still don't understand why you trust her," Frank muttered, his voice tight with frustration.

"Because she swore on her magic, Frank," Augusta replied patiently. "You know what that means. She cannot lie about her intentions."

"But what if she's hiding something?" Frank insisted. "What if she's dangerous?"

"She's done nothing but care for Neville—and you," Augusta said firmly. "She's been a friend to us, and to him. I trust her."

Hermione's heart clenched at the words. She had never intended to become so involved in their lives, but here she was, playing the role of caretaker and friend. She glanced over at Frank, who was staring at her with a mixture of suspicion and something else–something she couldn't quite place.

Frank sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I still don't like it. But for Neville's sake, I'll keep my mouth shut."

Hermione's eyes met Augusta's, and the older woman gave her a small, reassuring smile. It was a fragile peace, but it was something. She would take it, for Neville's sake.

After breakfast, Hermione took Neville outside to the garden. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the flowers and plants. She spread a blanket on the grass and sat down with Neville, pulling out a few toys from her bag to keep him entertained.

Neville clapped his hands excitedly as Hermione handed him a stuffed dragon. "Roar!" he said, waving it around.

Hermione laughed. "That's right, sunshine. Dragons go roar."

As he played, Hermione's heart swelled with affection. Neville's laughter was infectious, and she found herself smiling despite the heavy weight of her thoughts. She tickled his belly, and he squealed with delight, his little legs kicking in the air.

"You're such a happy boy," she murmured, brushing a curl of hair from his forehead. "I wish I could keep you this happy forever."

Just then, footsteps approached. She looked up to see Frank standing a few feet away, watching them with a guarded expression. The tension in the air was palpable, and Hermione's smile faltered.

"Frank," she said softly, nodding in greeting.

Frank crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on Neville. "Mother said you were out here," he said, his tone neutral.

Hermione nodded, keeping her voice calm. "Yes, I thought Neville could use some fresh air."

Frank's eyes flicked to her, suspicion still lingering in their depths. "You seem to be getting along well with him."

Hermione forced a smile on her face. "He's a wonderful child. I'm grateful for the time I get to spend with him."

Frank's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. "Just remember, Hermione," he said, his voice low and tense. "I'm watching you. One wrong move, and—"

"Frank," Augusta's voice cut through the tension like a knife. She had appeared at the edge of the garden, her expression stern. "That is enough."

Frank's shoulders slumped slightly, but he didn't respond. He turned and walked back toward the house, leaving Augusta and Hermione standing in the garden.

"I'm sorry, dear," Augusta said, her voice softening as she approached. "He's still grieving. It's hard for him to trust anyone right now."

Hermione nodded, her heart heavy. "I understand, Augusta. I really do."

Augusta smiled warmly and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Thank you for your patience. And for taking such good care of Neville."

Hermione watched as Augusta walked back to the house, leaving her alone with Neville once more. She looked down at the little boy in her arms, his innocent eyes shining with trust and love.

She was helping the future become a better place, even if it meant enduring horrific violence and risking her life. If she got killed in the process, it was an acceptable consequence. After all, no one would miss someone as dark as her.

"You're worth it, Neville," she whispered, holding him close. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect you and give you the future you deserve."

As Neville leapt from her lap and rolled about in the grass, kicking his legs up in the air, Hermione couldn't help but let a flicker of hope ignite in her chest. Perhaps, in time, things would get better. Perhaps she could find a way to make things right, to bring some semblance of peace to this fractured family.

For now, she would take it one day at a time, cherishing the moments she had with Neville and hoping that, somehow, she could help heal the wounds that had been inflicted on them all.