This chapter has just been read through by me!

Rose is bursting with a secret...

Draco was sitting at the breakfast table in the grand dining hall of Malfoy Manor, the morning light filtering through the tall windows, casting long, muted shadows across the polished wood. The silence in the room was broken only by the occasional clink of his spoon against the porcelain teacup. He had just settled into his usual Saturday routine when an owl swooped through the window, a small envelope tied neatly to its leg.

He frowned slightly, recognising the handwriting on the envelope before he even untied the parchment. It was from Granger.

Draco opened the letter and scanned the contents, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Malfoy,I hope you are free tomorrow. Rose and I are planning a trip to The Natural History Museum in London—one of her favourite places. She's been asking about you, and I thought it might be fun for you to join us. You might even learn something new about Muggles in the process. Let me know if you're interested.
Best,Granger

Draco stared at the parchment for a moment, feeling an odd twinge in his chest. It was such a casual invitation—almost too casual, given their history. But there it was: an offer to spend time with her and Rose. He wasn't sure what unsettled him more—the fact that Rose had been asking about him, or that Granger was suggesting he spend a day at a Muggle Museum.

With a sigh, he stood from the table, retreating to his study where he could think without the empty hall surrounding him. Settling into the leather armchair by the fire, he pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped his quill in ink. He hesitated for a moment before starting to write.

Granger,I'm not entirely sure it's wise for me to intrude on your plans with Rose. It seems rather personal—just a day for the two of you. Are you certain you want to include me in that?Draco L. Malfoy

Satisfied with the neutral tone of his reply, Draco sealed the letter and sent it off with the owl. He watched it fly out of sight, his mind still unsettled. Spending time with Granger was one thing—he had grown somewhat used to their strange, burgeoning friendship—but spending the day with her daughter in a Muggle Museum? That felt different. It felt more personal, more involved.

He didn't have to wait long for a response. Barely an hour had passed when the same owl returned, dropping Granger's reply onto his desk. Draco unrolled the parchment, his curiosity piqued.

Malfoy,Rose has been asking about you quite a bit since the last time we saw you. She enjoyed talking to you—although she still thinks you should have picked the pink quill. And besides, this isn't an intrusion. I'm offering. It could be good for you to expand your Muggle horizons. You might surprise yourself.Granger

Draco's lips twitched into a faint smirk as he read her note. Of course, she would bring up his 'Muggle education' again. He had been half-serious the last time they'd talked about it, but now she seemed determined to make it part of their dynamic.

But there was something more—something in the way she had mentioned Rose asking about him. The little girl's bright eyes and infectious curiosity had stuck with him ever since their last encounter. He hadn't expected to feel any sort of connection with her, but somehow, her innocent delight in the world had struck a chord. Maybe it was because she reminded him of the child, he had never had the chance to know.

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair before setting the parchment down on his desk. He stood up and moved to the window, gazing out at the rolling grounds of the manor. The thought of spending a day with Granger and Rose, seeing more of this Muggle world through their eyes, felt strangely… appealing. And perhaps he did need to get out of the manor more—especially if it meant distracting himself from thoughts of Astoria and the ruby ring she wore.

After a moment's hesitation, Draco returned to his desk and picked up his quill.

Granger,
Very well. I'll join you and Rose at the museum tomorrow. But if I'm subjected to any more lectures on the superiority of pink quills, I'll be holding you personally responsible.
Malfoy

With a flick of his wand, he sent the owl on its way, a sense of finality settling over him. As much as the thought of a Muggle Museum unsettled him, the idea of spending the day with Granger and Rose was not something he could easily dismiss. There was something about them, something about this strange new chapter in his life, that pulled him in—whether he liked it or not.

He leaned back in his chair, watching the owl disappear into the sky. Tomorrow would be... different, certainly. But for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he was starting to look forward to it.

The Natural History Museum was buzzing with families and curious visitors, its grand halls filled with exhibits of dinosaurs, ancient civilisations, and natural wonders. The towering skeletons and detailed dioramas had caught Rose's attention immediately, and she darted from one exhibit to another, her excitement palpable. Granger and Draco followed at a slower pace, hanging back as they let Rose explore at her own pace.

Draco watched as Rose ran towards a display of prehistoric fossils, her eyes wide with fascination. He found himself smiling faintly at her enthusiasm, though he quickly hid it before Granger could notice. She, however, was more focused on Rose, her expression warm yet thoughtful as they walked through the museum.

"She has a lot of energy," Draco remarked, glancing at Granger as they passed a display of ancient sea creatures. "It's impressive how much she can absorb in a place like this."

Granger nodded, her gaze fixed on her daughter. "She's always been curious. She loves learning, especially when it comes to history." Her smile faltered slightly as her thoughts seemed to shift. "She spent half the day with Ron yesterday."

Draco raised an eyebrow, catching the slight change in her tone. "I take it she was thrilled about that?"

Granger let out a small sigh, her voice carrying a mix of fondness and frustration. "Oh, of course. They did Quidditch-related things, naturally. Rose came home overjoyed—she was chattering on and on about the tricks Ron showed her and how much fun they had together."

Draco glanced at her, sensing the underlying tension in her words. "But?"

Granger bit her lip, her eyes following Rose as she moved to the next exhibit, a giant display of a T. rex skeleton. "But... I wish he could give her more. It's always just Quidditch, or something fleeting and fun. She loves it, but I want him to be more than just the 'fun dad' who shows up occasionally and leaves her wanting more."

Draco frowned as he watched Rose, her small figure standing in front of the towering T. rex skeleton, eyes wide as she tried to make sense of the information on the plaque. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but it also made the weight of Granger's earlier words settle more heavily in his mind.

"She's so full of life," he remarked, his voice low. "You can see how much she lights up around people she cares about."

Granger smiled faintly, her eyes following her daughter. "Yes, especially with Ron," she said, though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "But it's always this cycle—she gets her hopes up, he does something fun with her, and then he's gone again. It's not sustainable. I don't know how long it'll be before she starts noticing the gaps."

Draco glanced at her, sensing her frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You're worried she'll start resenting him when she realises it's more about brief appearances than being there."

Granger sighed, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "Exactly. She adores him now, but what happens when she's old enough to see the pattern? I don't want her to feel like she's chasing after someone who should already be there."

They walked in silence for a few moments, their footsteps echoing through the grand hall of the museum, surrounded by ancient artefacts and natural wonders, but their thoughts were anchored in far more personal matters.

"I'm scared," Granger admitted, her voice softer now, "that she'll get to a point where she's constantly waiting for him to show up. I know what that kind of disappointment can do."

Draco glanced at her, understanding that beneath her strong exterior, Granger was carrying a deep fear for her daughter. "You're right to worry," he said, choosing his words carefully. "But Rose… she's smart. She'll see the truth eventually. And she'll know who's been there for her."

Granger nodded, though her expression remained pensive. "I just wish I could protect her from that realisation. But I know I can't. I can't be both parents, as much as I try to make up for what Ron can't give."

"You don't have to," Draco said, surprising himself with the steadiness of his voice. "You're her mother. You're doing everything in your power. That's more than enough for her."

Granger looked at him, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly as she met his gaze. "I try," she said, her voice a little steadier. "But it's hard to feel like it's enough when I see her face light up the moment he walks through the door, only to see it fall again when he leaves."

Draco exhaled slowly, unsure of how to comfort her in a situation that had no easy solution. "I don't know what it's like, having a father who's… absent in that way. Mine was always around, but never truly there. Different kinds of absence, I suppose." He paused, glancing at Granger's thoughtful expression. "But from what I've seen, Rose is resilient. And that's because of you."

Granger offered a small, tired smile. "Thanks, Malfoy. I hope you're right."

As they approached another exhibit, Rose came bounding back towards them, her eyes shining with excitement. "Mummy! Draco! Did you see the giant dinosaur? It's so cool!" she exclaimed, grabbing Granger's hand and pulling her toward the display.

Hermione laughed, her earlier worries momentarily forgotten. "Yes, darling. It's amazing, isn't it?"

Rose nodded enthusiastically before turning her wide eyes on Draco. "Did you like it, Draco?"

Draco looked down at her, slightly taken aback by how easily she included him in the conversation. "It's… quite impressive," he admitted, his voice a little softer than usual.

Rose grinned, clearly satisfied with his answer. "I like dinosaurs. They're strong, like you!" she added, before running off again to examine another exhibit.

Draco stood there, blinking in mild surprise at her words. "Strong like me?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly.

Granger, catching the confusion on his face, let out a soft laugh. "She has a way of saying things that can catch you off guard," she said, her eyes following her daughter. "But… I think she's right."

Draco raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. "You think I'm like a dinosaur?"

Granger's laugh was louder this time, and for the first time that day, her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Not exactly. But I think you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Draco's lips twitched into a reluctant smile as he watched Rose dart from one display to the next, her laughter echoing through the hall. Despite everything—despite his own reservations, his past, and the weight of his family name—something about being here, with Hermione and Rose, felt strangely… grounding.

For the first time in a while, Draco didn't feel like he was trapped in the ghosts of the past. There was something new here, something worth holding on to. Even if he wasn't quite ready to admit it out loud just yet.

It was a cold, crisp evening towards the end of November, the streets of Muggle London glittering with early Christmas lights, casting a soft glow over the pavement. Hermione pulled her coat tighter around herself as she, Rose, and Malfoy made their way down the busy streets. The air was filled with the familiar buzz of the approaching holiday season—shop windows were adorned with festive displays, and people hurried along with bags of gifts and decorations in hand.

Over the past few weeks, Hermione had invited Malfoy on several outings with her and Rose. At first, it had felt odd to include him in these little excursions, but gradually it became a natural part of their routine. She hadn't been entirely sure why she had started inviting him—perhaps it was the way Rose's face lit up when she saw him, or perhaps it was the subtle, unspoken connection she felt growing between them. Whatever the reason, here they were, yet again, sharing another evening out.

They'd spent the afternoon at a Muggle cinema watching an animated film about a group of magical creatures, Rose giggling and bouncing in her seat the entire time. Malfoy, for his part, had been bemused by the experience, though Hermione had caught him smiling more than once at Rose's joy.

Now, as they walked through the brightly lit streets, Rose skipped ahead of them, her little gloved hands outstretched to catch the occasional snowflake falling from the sky. Malfoy walked beside Hermione, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black overcoat, his expression more sombre than usual.

Hermione had noticed the shift in Malfoy over the past few outings. The more time he spent with Rose, the more his emotions seemed to surface—grief, longing, something she couldn't quite place. His connection to her daughter was growing, and while Rose adored him, Hermione couldn't ignore the complex feelings that were beginning to simmer beneath the surface. She wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"Rose is really happy tonight," Malfoy remarked, his voice low as they watched her dash ahead.

Hermione nodded, smiling faintly. "She's been excited about the lights. This is her favourite time of year."

Malfoy glanced at Rose, a softness in his expression that was becoming more familiar. "I can see why," he murmured. His gaze lingered on Rose for a moment longer before his eyes shifted to the ground, his brow furrowing slightly.

Hermione hesitated, sensing that there was something weighing on him, something that had been building over the past few weeks. She decided to gently nudge the conversation in that direction.

"Malfoy," she began carefully, "you've seemed... different lately. More distant, but at the same time… more connected to Rose."

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed ahead, before he spoke. "She reminds me of what I lost," he said, his voice tight but controlled. "The child I should have had."

Hermione's heart clenched at the rawness of his words, the grief that had remained just below the surface finally making itself known. She had suspected as much, but hearing him say it aloud made it all the more real. She didn't know what to say—how could she possibly understand that kind of loss? But she had seen the way he looked at Rose, the way his eyes softened when she laughed, the way he seemed almost protective of her.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said softly, her voice laced with empathy. "I can't imagine how hard that must be."

Malfoy let out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as though the weight of his grief was bearing down on him. "It's... complicated," he admitted. "Being around her—it helps, but at the same time, it hurts. She's so full of life, and I see the child I never got to know in her. It's healing in a way, but it also... reminds me of everything I don't have."

Hermione glanced at him, feeling a mixture of sympathy and uncertainty. She understood, at least on some level, why he was drawn to Rose—why spending time with her might offer him a kind of solace. But at the same time, she worried about what it might mean for him. For them.

"Rose adores you," Hermione said after a pause, her breath misting in the cold air.

Malfoy's lips twitched into a small smile, but it was fleeting. "She's a remarkable child. She's bright, and kind, and..." He trailed off, his gaze far away for a moment before he refocused on Hermione. "But I don't want to impose. I don't want to complicate things for either of you."

Hermione shook her head, her voice gentle but firm. "You're not imposing. Rose loves having you around, and you've been good for her."

They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the soft crunch of their footsteps and Rose's laughter as she ran ahead of them. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Malfoy's grief than just his lost child—there was a deep, unresolved pain in him, a loneliness that resonated with her in ways she hadn't anticipated.

"It's not just Rose, is it?" she asked quietly. "There's more to what you're feeling."

Malfoy's jaw tightened slightly, and for a moment, she thought he might not answer. But then he let out a long breath. "It's everything. Astoria, the life we planned, the future that vanished when she left. Rose brings back memories of what should have been a lifetime of happiness with someone I don't know anymore."

Hermione nodded, her heart heavy for him. "I understand," she said softly. "Maybe not entirely, but I do understand what it's like to feel like everything you've built has crumbled."

Malfoy glanced at her, his expression softening for the briefest of moments. "I suppose we're both trying to rebuild, in our own ways."

They continued walking, the lights of the city twinkling around them, and Hermione felt the quiet understanding between them deepen. There were no easy answers, no quick fixes for the pain they both carried, but there was something comforting in the knowledge that they weren't alone in it.

Ahead of them, Rose stopped and turned, waving excitedly for them to catch up. Hermione smiled, quickening her pace slightly, and Malfoy followed suit, though his eyes lingered on the little girl who had somehow managed to touch the deepest, most vulnerable part of him.

As they reached Rose, Hermione's mind whirled with unspoken thoughts. She wasn't sure what to make of the connection growing between Malfoy and Rose. It brought her comfort in some ways but also fear—fear that his attachment might run deeper than he realised, fear that this delicate balance they had found might shatter under the weight of it all.

But for now, as they walked through the bright streets of Muggle London, she pushed those worries aside. For tonight, it was enough that they were here, together, finding solace in each other's company. Tomorrow, she would worry about the rest.

It was a cosy Sunday afternoon at Grimmauld Place. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the sitting room. The sound of laughter echoed around the room as Harry, Ginny, James, Rose, and Hermione gathered around the coffee table, playing a Muggle board game that Hermione had introduced to them years ago. They were halfway through a competitive round of Monopoly—James was intent on building an empire while Rose seemed mostly interested in the little game pieces.

Rose was curled up next to Hermione, clutching her cocoa in one hand and giggling whenever James or Ginny tried to negotiate deals for properties. Hermione, usually so invested in these games, found her mind drifting, her focus slipping away from the brightly coloured board and her companions' cheerful banter.

Her thoughts wandered back to Malfoy.

The last few weeks had brought something unexpected into her life—this growing connection between Malfoy and Rose. Every time they saw him, Rose's face would light up, and it was clear that she enjoyed his company. She talked about him constantly—her "nice man"—and it wasn't long before she would ask Hermione when they could see him again. Hermione couldn't deny that there was a comfort in having someone else around, someone who understood the complexities of their lives in ways few others did.

But there was something else. Something that gnawed at her in the quiet moments when Rose was asleep, and the flat was still. It was Malfoy's grief. He was trying so hard to hide it, to keep it buried, but she had seen it creep into his eyes, heard it in his voice when he talked about his lost child. His connection to Rose was undeniably growing, and while part of Hermione appreciated the bond, another part of her was terrified. What if his grief became too much? What if one day, he couldn't handle it anymore? What if he disappeared from their lives just as quickly as he had appeared? Another man walking out on Rose. Another heartbreak for her daughter.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to shake off the thought. Malfoy wasn't Ron. He wouldn't abandon Rose—would he? She hated that she couldn't be sure. The last thing she wanted was to let someone into Rose's life who couldn't be counted on. It would devastate Rose if Malfoy left, and Hermione wasn't sure if she could bear seeing her daughter's heart broken again.

"Your turn, Hermione!" Harry's voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

She blinked, realising she had been holding the dice without throwing them for the last minute or so. "Oh, right. Sorry," she murmured, giving the dice a roll.

Rose, however, was much more focused on something else entirely. Her wide eyes lit up as she looked around the room, clearly eager to share a piece of news. "Mummy and I have been spending time with this really nice man," she said, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a quick glance, their playful expressions shifting into something far more serious. Ginny's eyebrows shot up, while Harry's gaze darted to Hermione.

"Really?" Harry said slowly, clearly fishing for more information. "And who exactly is this man, Rose?"

Hermione's stomach dropped as she realised what was coming. Oh no, she thought, her heart speeding up. She wasn't ready for this conversation, especially not here, in front of Harry and Ginny.

Rose, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, continued happily. "He's very nice. He has really blonde hair, like almost white, and his eyes are all silvery. He wears a long black coat all the time." She beamed at her own description, seemingly unaware of the way Harry and Ginny had suddenly frozen.

Harry's gaze shot to Hermione, his brow furrowing in immediate recognition. Ginny's mouth opened slightly, her eyes wide as the pieces clicked together. They exchanged a quick, meaningful glance, and Harry leaned forward, his arms folding as he kept his eyes on Hermione.

"And this nice man with the white-blond hair and the black coat," Harry began slowly, though his tone was sharp with curiosity, "he's been spending a lot of time with you two?"

Rose, still full of excitement, nodded vigorously. "Yes! We've gone to museums and even to the cinema. He's friends with Mummy now. I think he's really smart!"

Hermione's heart sank. She could feel the weight of Harry and Ginny's eyes on her now, their expressions shifting from surprise to confusion, then to a kind of silent demand for answers.

"Rose," Hermione interjected gently, placing her hand on her daughter's knee. "Why don't you go help James with the game?"

Rose, always eager to be involved, nodded again and scurried over to where James was sitting, leaving Hermione alone to face Harry and Ginny's full attention.

Ginny was the first to break the silence, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in slightly. "Hermione, what's going on? Who is this 'nice man' Rose is talking about?"

Harry folded his arms tighter, his posture more guarded now as he looked at Hermione. "Yeah, Hermione. Who has white-blond hair and has suddenly become a regular part of your life?"

Hermione swallowed hard, feeling the tension thickening in the air. She knew this conversation was inevitable, but it didn't make it any easier. The concern and shock on her friends' faces weighed heavily on her, and she hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words.

"It's... it's Draco Malfoy," she said, her voice quiet but steady.

The words seemed to echo in the room, and both Harry and Ginny stared at her in disbelief. Ginny's mouth dropped open, while Harry blinked rapidly, as if trying to make sense of what he'd just heard.

"Malfoy?" Harry finally managed, his voice incredulous. "Draco Malfoy has been spending time with you and Rose?"

Ginny shook her head slowly, still processing the information. "Hermione, are you serious? Malfoy's been around Rose? For how long?"

Hermione shifted in her seat, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve. "A handful of weeks now," she admitted, glancing down at her hands. "It wasn't planned. We ran into him a couple of times, and Rose liked him. He's been... kind to her."

"Kind?" Harry repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Malfoy? The same Malfoy we went to school with? Since when does he do kind?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged another look, their concern deepening. Hermione could see the disbelief still lingering in their expressions, but also a growing worry that she hadn't anticipated.

"I know how this sounds," Hermione continued, trying to make them understand. "But he's different now. He's not the same person. He's changed."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, clearly grappling with this unexpected revelation. "I just... I don't know how to feel about this. It's Malfoy, Hermione. It's hard to believe he's changed so much."

Ginny, who had been quiet for a moment, finally spoke again, her tone more measured but still laced with concern. "Hermione, we trust your judgement, but Malfoy's history is... complicated. You've been through a lot with Rose. Just be careful. Rose is young, and she's already been hurt enough. You have to protect her."

Hermione nodded, her chest tightening as she absorbed their words. "I am," she said firmly. "I'm being careful. But I also trust him, and Rose does too. He's not going to hurt her."

Ginny's face softened, though the worry in her eyes remained. "We just don't want to see you or Rose hurt again."

"I know," Hermione said quietly, her gaze dropping to her lap. "I'm scared too. But I'll be careful."

But as she spoke, the same fear gnawed at the back of her mind—the fear that Draco's unresolved grief might one day become too much for him to bear. And if that day came, she wasn't sure if he would stay or if he would leave, leaving Rose with another gap in her life.

Total chapters will be 24 now