BACK HOME MALFOYS!

Weighing the prospect and finding it favourable

Hermione felt nervous as she sat in her drawing room, watching the fire roar and crackle. It reminded her of warm evenings in the Gryffindor common room, filled with the roar of laughter and the warmth of love.

She felt she was ready to go for life there again. She felt that she wanted to, oddly enough. Her parents had been comfortable in Australia, once she had reinstated their memories. She remembered how oddly and scared they had acted around her, before realizing that their daughter would never violate their privacy again, and that she had only done it because she knew they would not shift on their own. 

Getting a view of Hermione's night terrors had been enough.

The first few years had been hard. Draco and her parents would never be close-- not after Hermione told them he was an ex-death eater, but they respected him, and he them. Alex, Scor and Lia loved their muggle grandparents just as much as their magical ones, and Draco was the one who was happiest about that.

Australia was a beautiful place, and part of her would always remain here, but she really wanted to go home now. 

The phone rang suddenly, jolting her out of her thoughts. Alina. "Mrs Malfoy?" Her voice sounded out politely. 

"Yes, Alina." Hermione said, trying not to fiddle with her hair at the formal address. 

Before the revelation, Alina had been close to the Malfoy children, so much that they called her their honorary godmother. Then it had been revealed to her that they were wizards. She wasn't so hurt about that— she understood the Statue of Secrecy, but she was hurt about the fact that Hermione had never even told her her real name despite them knowing each other for thirteen years. Since then, she had drifted away from the Malfoys. 

Alina's tone turned apologetic. "I apologize, but the managers ... They want you to transfer to supervise the place in Britain."

"What?" The world seemed to have tilted for Hermione. She could barely sense her environment with the voices in her head—

"Hermione!" Draco's voice broke her from her reverie, and she blinked, conscious enough now to recognize Alina asking questions in panic and Draco next to her, his hands on her shoulders. "Hermione, calm down. We're here. We're together. We've survived."

Hermione let out a deep shuddering breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "Did the kids see?" Was the first thing she asked, as she opened her eyes, the murky brown irises swirling. 

Draco let out a sigh, his blonde hair in the worried mercury eyes. Godric, did she love those eyes. "No, they didn't. Mione, what triggered it this time? You haven't had a - a. . ."

Panic Attack. Hermione had had a panic attack, something she never had now, not after all these years. 

"They want me to go back to Britain, Draco." Hermione said softly. "And Merlin, even after all these years -- I don't think I can go back."

Draco listened to her patiently. He brushed a curly strand away from her forehead and pressed a kiss to it. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, sweetheart.  Besides," He gave her another soft smile. "Wasn't it you who wanted to go back to Britain? Permanently?"

Hermione inhaled softly, clearing her mind. Draco always helped her clear her mind and fix her mind on a path, something which had set him apart from Ron.

Ron. . . 

Merlin, Morgana, Circe . . . Britain. She had wanted to go back home, but she definitely hadn't expected it to come about in such a sudden manner. She was a creature of reflection, thought and planning.