With you in my Arms

52. A small but rather intimate gesture.

A very big THANK YOU to  HollyHammerHagelin! You rock, girl! And a spelling/grammar/punctuation nazi is what I need at times.

@ puffalooz4545 I'll read it as soon as I have a moment.

So, here is the latest installment of a book I never knew was going to happen the way it did when I started.

ENJOY!

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"Maybe we should make ourselves a bit more presentable."

Draco looked at her with a glance that said he didn't care about being presentable. All he cared about was her being with him again. She sighed.

"There will be a lot of people coming to see us. I want to make a good impression."

She wanted to make a good impression? Having just woken up from a month long coma didn't seem to have damaged her sense of humour then.

"Hermione, I really don't think that anybody particularly cares about us being..."

"Do you want your mother to see you physically entangled with a girl?"

"Well, if you put it like that..."

"Exactly."

He sort of sat up and watched her conjure several more pillows. Arranging them against the headrest she made sure that she would be able to snuggle up to him in an unobvious way. He grinned. Seemingly he was rubbing up on her.

Leaning back into the mountain of pillows she sighed.

"Everything okay, Lea?"

"I just wish, we wouldn't have to face all the questions that are going to be asked and to see all the people that have probably been worried sick about us."

"Being worried sick about you." He arranged himself next to her.

"I'm sure that Harry has been hoping for you to get better as well."

"Maybe. Though I doubt that he would have wasted any thoughts about me, if it wouldn't have involved you. He was hoping you would get better. Should I be able to achieve that somehow..."

Soft fingers caressed his. Deep down she knew he was right. It was still the same. Nothing seemed to have changed when it came to people seeing only the past when looking at the young man next to her. It would take a long while before he lost his Death Eater reputation. She sighed.

"As long as you know who I really am I don't care what anybody else says."

His voice was firm, but she heard all the unsaid things in it. His hand found the bump that their child now created and stroked it gently.

"As long as our children have the chance to grow up with you loving them..."

"I love you, my dragon." Hermione kissed his cheek.

The door opened moments later and his mother entered. There was a man following her. Both Draco and Hermione were glancing at him, wondering if that was James Mulligan, the auror Harry had told them about.

Mrs. Malfoy sat down on her son's side of the bed. Concern showing on her face For some strange reason it didn't seem to be only the fact that her son had spent a month in a coma-like state which bothered her. The stern looking auror who was now sitting in the corner was radiating protectiveness with every breath.

"Draco," his mother smiled, "you can't imagine how glad I am that you are awake again. When they told me that you had demanded to be with your fiancé I was fearing for the worst."

Hermione lay her head on his shoulder.

"I am deeply ashamed of what Lucius has attempted to do to you both."

"Mother, we both know that he would have sooner or later turned on me. He was simply not capable of understanding that I'm not the cold and calculating monster he wanted me to be."

He could feel Hermione's hand squeezing his.

"We had come just back from the Ministry. Having been told that he was ultimately behind you being cursed and several people poisoned with various potions... I have let my guard down." There was a bitter and accusing look on his face, but his words made it clear that he was only blaming himself for what had happened. "I failed to protect my family. He nearly killed...," he glanced at the witch by his side, "Hermione."

"Draco, your father has..." her voice faltered.

James Mulligan stepped behind her with a stern but also strangely kind look on his face.

"Your father has caused more grief than you hopefully will ever find out."

Narcissa felt his hands on her shoulders and lay one of her own on his. A small but rather intimate gesture. One that wasn't lost in all its complex meaning to neither her son nor her daughter-in-law.