"It's just your parents," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes as she checked on the roast.
"And as I recall, they hated anyone of less than pure blood," he retorted.
She shut the oven door and turned to face him. "And I told you that they're not like that anymore," she replied, resting her hand on his bicep. "Look, the kids will keep them distracted for most of the evening anyhow. They'll leave before we put Ayla and Leo to bed. You'll hardly have to talk to them at all."
"But what if I do, and I don't know what to say?" he wondered nervously. "Or what if they see that something is off? Do they think we're back together? I was living with them before, and I haven't been back since I woke up here that morning."
Not sure where to begin, she hugged him instead. "Just relax," she told him. "I told them we decided to work on our marriage, and things have been so much better between us. They seemed happy. We can let them think that, even if it's just one night."
He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. "I think we work," he murmured.
She smiled sadly as she pulled away. "Yeah, but you're not you," she replied. "You said so yourself. Sometimes it feels like I'm cheating on you."
"Yeah, with me," he added, reaching for her.
She allowed him to hold her once more. "You really are like the Draco I knew when we started dating," she said, pressing her cheek to his chest. "I swear I was in love after the first date. You were nothing like the boy I went to school with. You gave me your jacket because I was cold even though I could tell that you were freezing. But you wouldn't let me give it back to you. Then you got mad because I joked about mudblood germs, and promised me that I'd never hear you use that word again. And I haven't."
"I gave up on that entire belief system a long time ago," he replied. "And you were the reason I did."
She cupped his cheek, her thumb tracing a gentle sweep across his stubbled skin. "You never told me that," she whispered.
He noticed the way her brown eyes began to glisten. "I'm glad I could now," he replied, leaning down to kiss her. It was the first time he kissed her, and it felt exactly as he had imagined. Her lips were soft, and she returned the kiss with a sense of love that he had never before felt. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he murmured after pulling away.
"How long?" she asked.
He thought back to the first time he realized that Hermione Granger was someone special. "Sixth year," he told her. "I remember you would look at me when you thought I wasn't watching. You always seemed so concerned when you'd glance my way. I told myself that was because you were worried about me, that you knew I was up to something dangerous. Somehow, just the idea that someone cared, helped to get me through that year."
"It was more than concern," she confessed. "I was scared for you. There were rumors that you had become a Death Eater, and that Voldemort had given you an awful task as a way of punishing your father. We may not have ever been friends, but I could see how much you were hurting that year. I didn't want anything bad to happen to you."
"I'm here now," he assured her. "I don't know what's going on with me, but I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."
Wiping her eyes, she smiled. "I'm glad," she replied.
The private, tender moment was soon interrupted as Ayla ran into the kitchen. "Gigi and Papa are here!" she announced. "Can I have a doggy?"
Draco chuckled and deferred to Hermione. "Absolutely not," she told the little girl despite her attempt to use her pout to get her way. "Remember the gerbil? You never fed it, never cleaned its cage, and you constantly put it in your brother's crib. No more pets."
"What prompted this?" Draco inquired, bending down to pick her up.
Ayla shrugged. "Papa has one and I want one too," she replied.
"Probably try to feed her brother to it," Hermione muttered as they left for the living room.
"I can't believe those dogs are still alive," he said quietly. "They were a hundred when I was little."
Ayla shook her head. "No, Daddy, new doggies," she told him. "Remember? Leo was so scared of them."
Draco nodded. "Right, yeah. I remember now," he said. "Sometimes big dogs can be scary."
The little girl in his arms beamed proudly. "I'm not afraid of them because I'm brave like Mummy," she replied.
"Yes, you are," he agreed, kissing her cheek.
Together, they entered the living room to find his parents already seated with Leo on his father's lap. The toddler smiled brightly and pointed to him. "That's my daddy," he announced, brown eyes locked on his father.
He squirmed on his grandfather's lap, and as Lucius let him wiggle to his feet, he replied, "Yes, that certainly is." He rose and moved toward his son, extending his hand. "So nice to see you again, Draco. You disappeared weeks ago. If it hadn't been for your wife, we never would have known that you were still alive."
"Sorry, Father," he mumbled.
Lucius took Ayla from his son's arms and set her on her feet, asking her to go to her grandmother. "Let's talk," he suggested. Reluctantly, Draco pried Leo's arms from his leg and followed his father to the upstairs study. He took a seat behind the mahogany desk and eyed the younger man. "So?"
Draco busied himself with reshelving Ayla's books. "So what?" he asked.
The older wizard cleared his throat impatiently. "I'd like to know what's going on here," he stated. "Seven months ago, you and Hermione were barely speaking. You were separated, you moved back to the Manor, and then one day we wake up, and you're not there. Anything you feel the need to clarify?"
Shrugging, he finished his task and took a seat across from the desk. "We worked things out," he replied succinctly. His father eyed him suspiciously; that one look letting him know that he didn't believe him. Draco rose from his seat, and made his way towards the door. "Look, I'm sorry that we haven't talked in a few weeks. It was irresponsible of me."
"Which seems to be your go-to excuse every time you do something to upset someone," Lucius interjected.
"It seems to me that you're the only one who's upset," Draco retorted, fighting to keep his temper under control. "Whatever I've done in the past, Hermione has forgiven me and my kids have forgiven me. Who else matters?"
"Whatever you've done?" his father demanded. "You have no idea how many times your wife came to me looking for you. Because you were lying drunk in a gutter somewhere while she raised your children. Your mother would come over in the middle of the night to watch your children while we searched every pub for you. Do not tell me that no one else matters."
Draco's shoulders sagged defeatedly. "I'm sorry, Father," he replied. "I just...this is my chance to have the life I've always wanted. I don't want to screw it up anymore than I already have."
Lucius rose from his seat. "Then don't."
