The Babysitter (Dramione Fanfiction)

The End: Five Years After

The house-elves did a good job in maintaining the rose bushes in the East Wing Gardens of the Malfoy Manor. Spring was about to leave and in its wake was the blistering heat of summer, but the roses were still at full bloom. Drops of water from last night's drizzle were like shiny diamonds adorning their petals.

Smiling sadly, Draco knew his mother would have loved to see her beloved flowers at their prettiest.

"Does Master Draco require Morty's assistance today?"

Glancing at the old house-elf, Draco politely shook his head no. Morty snapped his fingers and disappeared in an instant, leaving the silent blond alone to visit his mother's grave.

It had been three years now ever since Narcissa succumbed to her illness. The day of her death was actually a particularly hectic day for her son. Draco was away on a mission in France, Aurors needing his assistance to break through an old manor of a Pureblood family notorious for practicing the Dark Arts. At the same time, he was frazzled with unimaginable nerves with the news that Hermione was ordered by Healer Matthews to be bedridden until she delivered their son.

It was all too much for Draco when a letter had been sent to him, bearing the news of his mother's passing.

He had thought that after interacting daily with Lucius' portrait, Narcissa would overcome her illness. She did become well, often being lucid every time he visited with his small family. Her mother adored his two daughters and spent most of her frail days with them in her beloved East Wing Gardens. But Narcissa was tired – she had told him often that Lucius needed her now and she must leave him be.

And leave him she did, and Draco was distraught. The only thing that kept him from falling apart was his family, who supported him through the whole ordeal.

Draco finally reached Narcissa's grave and silently conjured a rose. One of his mother's request before her death was to be buried here and not amongst the Malfoy family graves. He therefore chose a spot near the first bush his mother had ever taken care of; she was particularly fond of this rose bush, having survived the trying times of the Malfoy family and continued to bloom despite all the hardships. He knew, even without Narcissa telling him, that she would be happy to be buried here.

"Hello, Mother," he whispered, placing a rose on her graveyard. He ran a finger across her epitaph that Rose had chosen - A flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all. She claimed it came from one of her favorite Disney movies; Draco thought it was undoubtedly fitting for his mother.

Emotions cracked through his carefully crafted mask. The pain of losing Narcissa was still fresh in his heart, despite all these years, and there was never a day he stopped missing her. He just wished that she was here right now, to tell him she was proud of him for all the achievements he garnered along the way.

He didn't know for how long he stayed; he figured it was already hours since the sun was already setting. Draco couldn't somehow bring himself to leave, however.

"I knew you'd be here."

He heard her more than he saw her and Draco didn't bother to turn around and face his wife. He heard Hermione's soft footsteps pattering through the grass until she finally reached his side. Her hand easily wove through his fingers as if they had always belonged there, and then worriedly peered up at him.

"How'd you know I will be here?" he asked, his voice cracking a little.

"Instincts," she said, a small smile on her face. "I heard couples developed that after being married for years."

Draco gave her a pointed look, prompting her to playfully roll her eyes.

"Tippy told me," she corrected. "I got worried when you haven't arrived yet for dinner." She shuffled a bit closer to him and gave his hand another squeeze. "You okay, love?"