The Request by redhead414

Chapter 17

Valentine's Day was this weekend, and Hermione had been wracking her brain for the past few days about what to do for Claire. The first week after Astoria's death, Claire seemed to be ok. She had her sad moments, of course, but her personality was unflappable as she was back in school, coming home every day with a new story. But the moment Anya left after that first week to return to her schooling at Hogwarts, the wheels slowly fell off the Claire wagon. She was weepy and pitiful in the morning, it took everything Hermione had to get her ready to go to school, and she had managed to test the limits of Draco's patience to a point that he didn't realize he could reach. Draco would go to bed every night frustrated, not knowing what to do for his youngest daughter as she requested that Hermione lay with her each night until she fell sound asleep.

"Everyone's adjusting," Hermione would say to Draco when he found himself at his wits end. "She's just a little girl. She can't help how she processes her feelings."

He would always respond with a heavy sigh, as he knew all of this. He was just exhausted. He didn't know how Hermione was able to deal with everything and make it so easy. Harry would tell him that it was just the nature of Hermione. She was unflappable in times of chaos. Draco would find himself worrying more about her at times than his children, out of an irrational fear that she would reach a point where she couldn't take any more and leave. It made him feel vulnerable, despite her many assurances that she wouldn't leave.

The children tucked away in bed, Hermione made her way downstairs, book in hand as she planned to join Draco in the living room. A tapping noise in the kitchen caused a detour, as Hermione found the family owl, Sandal, sitting rather impatiently at the window. Opening the window quickly, the bird stepped in and exchanged the letter for some treats. Jumping up on the counter like a teenager, she popped open the letter and quickly scanned through the contents, the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

It came to her through the grapevine about a year ago that the publishers of A History of Magic were looking for someone to take over the long vacant role of Bathilda Bagshot. They wanted an updated version of the iconic book, complete with updates, additions, and one of the editors, Hannah Longbottom, thought that Hermione would be the perfect person to take on this role. She, of course, thought Hannah had lost her mind, but then Neville started in on her, and the more she heard about it, the more appealing it sounded. She loved her job at the Ministry. Her new role wasn't something she'd ever thought she'd enjoy doing, but she'd done all she could with her S.P.E.W. With her role in the Improper Use of Magic, she was content, but also knew it wasn't a job she could see herself doing for the rest of her career.

When Draco found Hermione sitting on the counter in the kitchen, her nose stuck in a piece of parchment, he noticed the smile. They'd been so busy lately, trying to keep some sense of normal for the two children at home and the one away at school that they hadn't had a single moment to even contemplate the two of them in the context of being together. They still shared a bed, Draco waking up in the morning first so that Claire didn't accidentally stumble in and find him with Hermione, but late, one was often asleep before the other one found the bedroom. As he caught the time, about three minutes 'til nine o'clock, he realized this was the first night in a while that the two of them managed to have the smaller children tucked away in bed without either one of them tethered to one of their rooms.

"Is that from Anya?" he asked, not recalling if he'd seen a letter from her today. She sent letters most days, though lately some of them had been for Hermione only. He tried to pry and see what it was that his eldest daughter was appearing to confide in Hermione, but her lips were locked. You wouldn't understand, Hermione would tease him. You were never a teenage girl. Though if Claire were any proof - you would have made a pretty one.

It wasn't until he repeated the question that she noticed he was in the room, startling her. "Good God, Draco!" she exclaimed. "Wear a bell!"

He laughed. "So it isn't from Anya?"