God Is Gracious

1

Now it seems like it's always been that way.

There has never been a war, devastation and these years of history. As if the heavens themselves wrote this story and finally brought it to life. He closely watched his beloved spouse, who, even in the eighth month of pregnancy, wanted to remain independent. The woman carefully leaned over the apples. She looked so beautiful wearing her green dress with her hair down.

A sudden burst of sonorous laughter attracted the attention of people walking nearby. Hermione dropped the apple, touching the stomach with her hands.

"She likes apples too, Draco," the woman said, stroking her belly. "I'm already looking forward to seeing you, my dear."

"I'm sure she's looking forward to seeing you too, Hermione. Waiting just as much as I waited for her."

Draco hugged his wife, burying his nose in her brown hair. His lungs filled with the aroma of spicy and sweet cinnamon, and his arms gently wrapped around her fragile shoulders. He was ready to hug her day and night, through all his life. And still, it wasn't enough. It always won't be enough.

"She's kicking," a thin voice chirped. "Mom, she's kicking."

Little Rose stood beside Hermione, lightly touching her belly with those little fingers. Her curls shimmered in the sun as she listened. She loved to eavesdrop on her unborn sister so much. She closed her eyes to the colour of the sky and stood motionless, so as not to frighten away the attempts of the future Malfoy to communicate with the outside world.

"Daddy," Rose said to Draco. "What shall we name her?"

The blond pulled away from Hermione and looked warmly at Rose. The girl is a copy of her mother, even though there was something from the father in her. But Draco was ready to say 'thank you' to Ron Weasley for this beautiful little creature. It was Rosie who showed Malfoy what love is.

"Are you lost?" Malfoy turned to the frightened child. "Where are your parents?"

"I don't know," the girl burst into tears.

"Don't cry. I will help you. What's your mother's name?"

The girl who looked like a red-haired angel wiped the tears from her face and gave a suspicious look at Draco. There was something painfully familiar in that look. Pride? Where can such a thing come from in such a small child?

"Hermione Weasley. But she's no longer Weasley. She said she's Granger from now on."

That makes sense. Of course, it's Granger Junior.

From that day on, long courtship and conversations until dawn began, while little Rosie was asleep. There was a marriage proposal, promises to be together forever, to share all the joys and sorrows, there was an acquaintance with the parents and embarrassment as if they were fifteen years old again.

Purchase of the house and the first planted tree. Maintenance without the use of a magic wand, because Hermione wanted it to be that way and paint-smeared noses. And there also were joint trips to France and Alaska.

And there was the first "daddy" when Draco held Rosie in his arms. She looked at the shooting star, and then turned around sharply and stared with her large eyes at the man.

"Dad, if I tell you what I wished for, then it won't come true?" The little girl asked looking upset.

"It will come true, sweetheart." Tears welled up in Draco's eyes. "I will make all your dreams and desires come true. Yours and mothers."

"I love you so much, daddy!" Small arms wrapped around his neck.

"I love you more," Draco whispered softly, though he wanted to shout it to the whole world.

You don't have to be so rich to feel like the richest man. And Draco realized this when he found happiness in Hermione Granger and her daughter. Their daughters.

Love is the most powerful force of all transformation. Nothing changes a person like this inspiring feeling.

Although he wasn't the most famous keeper in Western Europe and he didn't have hundreds of admirers, he woke up every morning and saw the face of his beloved woman. His daughter drew drawings of their family and only fell asleep at night after squeezing his thumb tightly.

And now they're all walking around Central Park together in New York City and, in a month, there will be four of them. The Malfoy family will be replenished by giving this world a new beautiful human being. She may not have the white hair which is a special feature of the Malfoys or bottomless grey eyes, but she will be his daughter. Another beloved daughter.

"Joan," Draco replied to his daughter's question. "Do you like it, sweetheart?"

"Yes, daddy. It's beautiful."

Rosie stepped away from her mother and went back to her net, chasing after another butterfly.

"Joan?" Hermione asked, looking at her husband warmly.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Joan means 'God Is Gracious'. It means 'gift of a merciful God'. Hermione, you and Rosie are heaven's reward for me. And the newborn Joan is a gift from a merciful god to me."

"To us," Hermione hugged her husband.

That's how it goes. Two people go their separate ways, and it seems that their paths will never cross, but life decides differently. The one who was a stranger yesterday, suddenly becomes your oxygen, your comfort and your world.

It cannot be understood with the head, it's felt only by the heart. This is a disease for which one doesn't want to look forward to being cured. And it seems like it's always been that way.