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Tales of The Dragon and The Bookworm	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 58350 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Fridays at 5:00, Part 2

Author’s Note:

@HarryGinny4eva: Wow, thank you for the avalanche of reviews! It was seriously exciting to see so many and you were very sweet to comment as you read. XO

@Missus_G: I can only imagine Draco’s body would be damaged after a stint with the Dark Side, considering how cruel they could be to their own. Thank you for the review!

@nari-chan: Thank you for the cheerleading! :)

@General Crow: I feel like I’m finally moving past the writer’s block I’ve have the past few months, thank goodness. I have all these stories I would start and then lose interest in after a few pages of writing. In this story, Hermione uses her gift on Draco as a last resort for his treatment, but also because she feels a spark with him. She tries to be professional, but the line between healing and feelings blur. Thank you for the review, my friend!

“Daddy, is Herminy your friend?” Scorpius asked his father the next day. Draco didn’t think Scorpius would understand the nuances of his relationship with Hermione Granger, so he simplified it for his son.

“We’ve become friends over a long time. Did you like Rose?”

“She’s the best! We played dragons and dinosaurs. Have you ever seen a movie, Daddy?”

“I haven’t. Did you like it?”

“Yes! Can we get a telly, too?”

Draco looked at Scorp’s big, blue eyes, so like Narcissa Malfoy’s. He’d survived the war, only to lose both his parents in a matter of a few years. He’d tried to adhere to Narcissa’s wishes by marrying the woman his family had arranged for him to marry, but Astoria couldn’t handle the taint of becoming a Malfoy. As soon as her end of the marriage contract was fulfilled, she happily left him for Etienne, an older gentleman who took pride in Astoria’s pureblood breeding and lovely visage.

“Maybe, son. I’ll ask Hermione about it next time we see her.”

“Herminy’s nice, Daddy. I like her crazy hair.”

Draco barked out a laugh. “Oh, Scorp! I always liked her hair. I used to stare at it during class.”

“I can tell she’s your friend because you smiled a lot last night. More than me.”

“It was nice to have some friends visit, wasn’t it, buddy?”

“I hope they come over again.” Scorpius’ little face showed his happiness at meeting a new friend, someone his age who didn’t care about the sins of his family, whose mother wouldn’t pull her away when she realized her child was playing with a Malfoy.

“Me, too, Scorp.”

The next week dragged for Hermione. Every day when Hermione would pick up Rose from daycare the little brunette would ask if Scorpius was coming to the clinic that night. By Wednesday evening, Hermione contemplated showing up on Malfoy’s doorstep with a box of pizza and her daughter in tow.

Maybe he has a girlfriend. He was trying to repay you for being nice to his child. Don’t make this into something it’s not.

Hermione hadn’t had a lot of experience with men, but she could tell when a man’s interest veered from friendship to something else. Malfoy had been looking at her with more than a friendly expression over the past few months. Yes, he was her patient, but they had known each other for many years.

Why is my life always so complicated? Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with one of the Weasleys? Or Neville? I don’t need to pursue some kind of relationship with Malfoy. If I lose Malfoy as a client, our lives will get even more convoluted.

Hermione made up her mind to behave as professionally as possible with Draco Malfoy. She’d offer him the best care she could. Scorpius and Rose could play together every Friday while Hermione treated Draco, then she’s bid them adieu when his appointment was over. She could do this. She had to do this.

Draco felt surprisingly nervous when they reached Hermione’s office on Friday evening. Scorpius was happily chatting with his father about all the things he and Rose were going to do while Herminy treated his dad. The tiny blond boy wanted his father to invite them to dinner again, but Draco told his son they might have plans and not to get attached to the idea of them coming over.

Opening the door to the clinic, he saw Rose bound up to Scorpius like a squirmy puppy.

“Scorp! I’ve been waiting days and days to see you!”

“I know! Daddy said we couldn’t come until today for his ‘pointment.”

Hermione kneeled down and grinned at Malfoy’s son. “Hi Scorpius. We’re so happy to see you today. Can I set you two up with a movie? I found a movie about dinosaurs for you.”

“Really? I love dinosaurs.”

“I know you do. Rose says your dinosaur roar is very scary.”

“It is. Let’s go watch the movie,” Scorpius said, taking Hermione’s hand as they walked back to her living area.

“Malfoy, why don’t you get ready while I turn on the movie for the kids.”

He nodded and headed to the treatment room.

Is it my imagination or did she seem cooler with me? Damn it, I knew I acted stupid last week. Should I say something?

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before entering the treatment room. Draco was lying facedown on the massage table. He’d become a tall man, even taller than his father. He was still slim, but his shoulders had filled out. He wore his hair cropped short in a surprisingly military style. The first time Hermione had treated him, she’d almost gasped at the amount of scarring on his body. His residual pain from the war was certainly not imagined, if his body told her anything.

In a low, calm voice she asked, “How was your pain this week?”

She covered him with a blanket and began to run her hands over his body, beginning with his head. She knew he liked when she spent time massaging his scalp.

“It was better than last week.”

When Draco’s pain was more manageable, they would forego using her special healing gift. Hermione had found the power exerted from using the gift would require her to get extra rest in the days after, so, as she had explained to Draco, it was better if they reserved the treatment for times when regular treatment wasn’t working.

“That’s good. No headaches?”

“I read for several hours on Monday and woke up with a headache on Tuesday morning. One of your pain potions helped.”

“I’ll show you some exercises to help with eye strain. We can also check your vision. You might need specs.”

“Okay.”

After that, Hermione worked on Draco in silence. Usually he could relax during his treatments, but today he was surprisingly anxious. Half-way through he mumbled something.

“I’m sorry, Draco, but I didn’t hear you.”

She called me Draco. She almost never calls me Draco.

He cleared his throat. “My life isn’t how I expected it to turn out, either. It’s…um, kind of lonely, actually.”

He didn’t think she’d respond as she kept working on his neck, easing the pain that lived in that area of his body.

“I understand,” she murmured.

After leaving Draco to dress, Hermione went to find the kids. They were happily sitting on the couch finishing the movie. She sat between them, pulling each little body into hers.

“I like you, Herminy,” Scorpius whispered.

“I like you, Scorpius,” she whispered back.

“Daddy likes you, too,” he confided.

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. She didn’t think Malfoy would like his son to spread that information around. She gave him a squeeze. It was somewhat of a surprise to her that Malfoy would have such a cuddly child, but she could tell he was a good father. Scorpius clearly had his physical and emotional needs met.

Draco watched Hermione and the kids from the doorway. Seeing her treating his son with such regard made his heart warm. Hermione turned and saw him leaning against the doorframe. The kids turned a moment after she did.

“Daddy, can Rosie and ‘Miny come over? Pleassse,” Scorpius begged his father.

“Please, Mummy! Please, please!” Rosie bounced up and down on the sofa in her excitement.

Draco gave Hermione a grin and beckoned her to the hall.

“You two are welcome to come over. Scorp’s been talking about Rose all week. And you’re not so bad yourself, Granger.”

“Be still my heart,” she said, patting her chest.

“You two can stay in the guest room. The kids can play some more in the morning.”

“I don’t know, Malfoy,” Hermione said, twisting a curl around her finger. “We don’t want to abuse your generosity.”

“You’ve been more than generous to us, Granger.” Malfoy looked so sincere.

“Can I pick up dinner at the very least?”

“Only if you get pizza.”

Draco was amazed by how nice it was to have Hermione help the kids bathe and brush their teeth before bed. Scorpius fought the nighttime routine and Draco was usually exhausted by the time he finally wrestled the feisty little boy into his pajamas, read him a story and got him to sleep. She was a natural with children and had the kids ready for bed by eight. Draco read the kids a story and was amazed that they were both asleep by the time he was done with the fairy tale.

“You’re great with kids, Granger,” Draco said with a smile. She was always so straightforward and professional with him, but in his home she was almost shy.

“I put a few drops of Dreamless Sleep potion in their drinks at dinner,” she said with a straight face.

Draco looked at her with shock, but let out a breath when he realized she was kidding by the smile fighting itself onto her lips.

“There have been times I’ve considered it,” Draco admitted with a wry smile. “Would you care for some wine?”

“That would be lovely.”

After Astoria had left, Draco had focused on raising his son. He didn’t date. Pansy had contacted him after the divorce and he had thought she might want to see him romantically, but she only had interest in Draco as a friend. She’d become an assistant in the Ministry’s law library and had met Darius, a solicitor and a Gryffindor ten years her senior. Darius was huge- tall and broad, but he was also funny and smart. He took care of Pansy and she said she felt cherished by him. Darius reminded Draco of a smarter Greg Goyle.

So, aside from the split-second possibility of something with Pansy, Draco hadn’t so much as looked at anyone until he started to develop something for the witch currently in his home. He’d been alone for several months when he sought Healer Granger’s help with his frequent headaches and body aches. Although she hadn’t wanted to treat him at first, he’d convinced her with a combination of Galleons and apologies. Her touch had been a revelation in those days after feeling like the world had abandoned him. After seeing her a few times, he began to realize that going for his treatments was the high point of his week.

Hermione wanted to keep things friendly and light with Draco, but the past two weeks had her confused with conflicting emotions. She was not a damsel in distress and while she didn’t need a man in her life, part of her yearned to be in a loving relationship and for Rose to know what it was like to be a member of a traditional family. Sure, Rosie had Grandma and Grandpa Granger, the Weasleys, and other close family friends, but that wasn’t the same as having what Hermione had enjoyed as a child.

But she didn’t regret her decision to keep her baby, not for one minute. She thought at some point in the future Harry would deeply regret ignoring Rose. She didn’t need to be in a relationship with Harry for him to have a relationship with his daughter. Hermione thought she’d made that clear to him, but he’d only seen Rose once when she was a baby and hadn’t seen her since.

Hermione’s musings were making her feel weighted with responsibility and she adjusted her thoughts so she could enjoy a few hours with the man who had opened his home and his family to her and Rosie.

Draco looked up from his reading when Hermione came into his den. Her long hair was twisted into a loose knot and she wore yoga pants and a long sleeve cotton t-shirt. Her Muggle clothes were so much more revealing than the robes most witches wore.

“Wine?” he asked.

“Please,” she replied, taking the offered goblet from his hand. “What do you usually do on the weekend?”

“My weekends don’t vary much from the rest of the week, I’m afraid. What about you?”

“Mostly I get ready for the next week. Laundry, food prep, cleaning. Sometimes Rose will stay with my parents and I’ll enjoy some time at the bookstore or research something for my practice.”

Draco suspected Hermione didn’t have a man in her life, but he wasn’t sure.

“Do you do any dating?” he asked as casually as he could.

This was the conversation Hermione had been anticipating, and she wasn’t really sure how to deal with it. One part of her wanted to tell him she didn’t really date and leave it at that, but the other part of her, the Gryffindor side, urged her to discuss what was clearly a mutual attraction.

“This is as close to a date as I’ve had since I became pregnant with Rose,” she admitted, attempting to let Draco know she acknowledged his interest.

“Why’s that?”

“Not many people know I have a child, and I prefer to keep it that way. I think her parentage would cause people to scrutinize her unnecessarily. And, frankly, I’m nervous about Rose getting attached to someone only to have them exit our lives. I don’t think that’s fair to her.”

“I haven’t dated since Astoria and I divorced. Taking care of Scorpius after she left has taken up all my time and energy.”

Hermione looked at Draco. In his own way, he’d become her friend. As much as she wanted things to stay professional between them, because she hated the idea of losing him as a client, she was intensely curious about exploring the connection between them.

“The kids do take up every spare minute, if you’re doing it right,” Hermione conceded. “Have you considered sending him to preschool?”

“Muggle preschool? I don’t think that would be right for us.”

Hermione shrugged. This was Draco Malfoy, after all. She didn’t think he’d faked all his opinions over the years.

“I suppose your situation is different than mine. The director of the school where I send Rosie is a Squib, so she keeps an eye on any accidental magic situations for me. It would be easier to send her to a magical preschool, but since there aren’t any, it’s a moot point.”

“Scorpius would probably like going to school, but…I don’t know. The Muggle world is still too foreign to me. I’m not comfortable with the idea of him being in a different environment without being able to monitor what’s going on.”

“It’s okay, Draco. I was just asking.”

Draco poured her another inch of wine and settled into his chair. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Hermione took a sip and considered what to say without coming off as judgmental.

“We don’t know each other very well. You know your son and what he needs better than anyone else. I was just making conversation.”

They drank the rest of their wine in silence. As a twenty year old woman, Hermione would have been absolutely indignant by what Draco had just said, but ten years later, having a demanding career and being a single parent had taught her to consider things from a more rounded perspective.

“How do you do it all with such a good attitude?” Draco finally asked.

She chuckled. “Do I? I feel like I’m all business, all the time. There are days I’ve seriously considered what I’ve done wrong in my life to have everything so upside down.”

“Are your parents still around?”

“They are, but they were pushing forty when I was born, so now they’re getting elderly. Last year they moved into a very nice flat. I believe they’re in Beijing right now.”

“Are you close to them?”

The question was a complex one for her. They were busy, career driven people and she was intensely independent. The Grangers worried about their daughter, but they preferred to let her sort out her problems alone.

“That’s a loaded question for me. I love and respect them, but they think I’m too idealistic. It’s caused some friction between us.”

“But they help a bit with Rose?”

“They do. I’m grateful they’re such thoughtful grandparents.”

Hermione knew both of Malfoy’s parents were dead. Even with her financial hardship and the unexpected twists and turns life had handed her, Hermione had help from the Weasleys and her parents on a semi-regular basis.

“My mother would have loved Scorpius,” he said quietly. “But ‘society’ doesn’t tend to raise their own children, not like you or I do. It’s practically unheard of for a man to raise a child by himself in the circles I grew up in.”

She smiled sympathetically at him. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a wonderful job. He’s a lovely child.”

“Thank you,” he said, ducking his head. Draco was doing his best, but it often felt like any acknowledgement of his positive qualities as a human being would forever be overshadowed by his actions as a teenager.

The next morning Draco took the kids out to play, with Rosie showing Draco and Scorpius how to make snow angels. Hermione watched them through the kitchen window as she made breakfast for the group. She wondered what could have driven Astoria to leave this life she had with Draco. It seemed almost ideal to her, but the way the Malfoy name was regarded nowadays might have been too much for the superficial debutante. Hermione was no stranger to slander, so Malfoy’s fall from grace didn’t bother her like it might another woman. She knew there was always more to the situation than met the eye.

After prying her daughter away from Draco and Scorpius’ house, the two had a quiet weekend. Hermione found herself missing the two Malfoys and knew her daughter did, as well.

Several days later, Hermione received an owl from Draco that had her canceling her appointments for the day and packing a bag for her and Rosie.

When they got to the Malfoy’s home, Scorpius threw himself at Hermione. He began to cry and she picked him up, holding his shaky little body against hers. Rosie stared at her friend, worry making her green eyes big and watery.

“Can you tell me where your daddy is, Scorp?” Hermione asked him, brushing his fine hair off his wet face.

“In his room,” Scorpius said, pointing up the stairs.

“After I check on your daddy, I’ll make you and Rosie lunch, okay?”

He clung to her for another minute before Hermione directed Rosie to play dragons and dinosaurs with Scorp. Rosie took his hand and led him to his cache of toys in a basket in the large kitchen.

Hermione knocked on Draco’s door before letting herself in.

“Draco? It’s Hermione,” she said softly, making her way to his bed.

“Granger, what are you doing here?” he said, groaning as the sound of his own voice made his head pound.

“I was worried about you when I got your note. Even when you’ve felt your worst, you’ve always come to your appointments. And I wanted to give you a break from taking care of Scorpius,” she said in a low voice.

Hermione made sure Draco was clothed before she pulled his blankets off in order to examine him. His muscles were tense from the pain of his intense migraine. When she had him gingerly move onto his stomach, she found his second problem: a slipped disk in his back.

“I’m going to give you my strongest pain potion, which will most likely cause you to fall asleep for a few hours. Has the pain been keeping you up?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

Once she had gotten Draco onto his side and pulled his blankets back up, she sat beside him, running a hand through his short hair.

“I need to take the children to Mrs. Weasley. She’ll take care of them and I can treat you, okay?”

Too tired and uncomfortable to object, Draco merely nodded his head. He was miserable, but the fact that he had someone looking out for him and Scorpius made the pain bearable.

After feeding the kids lunch, Hermione took them to Molly, who was more than happy to add two more kids to her brood of grandchildren. The Weasley matriarch was charmed by Scorpius shaking her hand and introducing himself. Hermione felt pride on Draco’s behalf. His son was an excellent reflection of his parenting.

“Why don’t I keep them for the evening? Bill’s children are staying overnight,” Molly suggested after Hermione explained the situation with Draco.

“That would be wonderful, but will you Floo call Draco’s house if Scorpius gets spooked? He’s hardly ever away from his father.”

“Of course, dear. But don’t you worry, I have the grandmother’s special touch. In fact, we were just about to make a batch of cookies before you three came over.”

Hermione kissed Molly’s cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, pish. We’re family and I love Rosie like my own. Just take care of Mr. Malfoy and we’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright?”

She used the Floo to get back to Draco’s house and found he was still asleep, which was good. Using her wand, she put away toys, washed dishes, and made herself a pot of tea. After settling on the sofa with a few journals, she was able to read while sipping her chai.

The large house was such a far cry from the monstrous, cold manor where Draco had grown up. She’d never been one for excessive decoration, so the simplicity and solidness of the home spoke to her. It lacked a certain woman’s touch, but it was practical and warm in its own way.

Around eight in the evening, Hermione heard Draco’s footsteps in his upstairs bedroom and the toilet flush a moment later. She gave Draco a minute before making her way to the bedroom.

“Draco, can I come in?”

“Yeah,” he groaned as he sat on the bed, his agonizing back making it hard to move around.

Hermione ran to him and eased him onto the bed, helping him to roll onto his side.

“I need to use my wand to heal your back. It’s going to hurt, but at least you’ll be able to move around.”

“Okay,” he murmured as Hermione helped him move onto his stomach.

With a few diagnostic spells, Hermione ascertained which disc needed healing and began to delicate process of easing pressure on the nerve. Draco’s shallow breathing had Hermione ever-so-careful to not cause him further pain. With a last flourish of her wand, the procedure was done.

“Let’s move you onto your back,” she whispered, knowing his head was still aching.

“I haven’t felt this awful in a long time.”

“I know. You could have owled me earlier,” she chided him, gently rubbing his temple with her thumb.

“I thought I could work through the pain. My head is still throbbing.”

She wasn’t sure if he was aware of his hands resting on her thighs as his body curled into her warmth. Knowing there was no way she’d disrupt the sleep he so desperately needed, Hermione made herself comfortable in Draco’s bed, shocked by how easy it was for her to feel at home next to this wizard.

The early morning darkness was giving way to the dawn when Hermione felt Draco shift and make his way to the ensuite. She sat up and took a sip of water and used her wand to freshen her face.

Hermione had one more suggestion, but it was a last resort. She’d never used the full extent of her gift with Draco. For full healing to take place, her body had to be as engaged as the recipient of her gift. She’d discovered by accident what sex did for her partner, so as a rule, she avoided intercourse, though she enjoyed it immensely. Her feelings for her patient had gone from interest to full blown fixation and she just knew that sex, even if for healing purposes, would make those feelings evolve further. Nevertheless, the longer Hermione treated Draco, the more she realized his pain hindered his life.

“I do have one more treatment option,” Hermione explained as Draco sat next to her on the bed. “It’s a bit more involved. I want your assurance that if this option breaches your boundaries, you will tell me.”

“Go on,” he said, his grey eyes watching her cautiously.

“We haven’t yet used the full extent of my healing abilities,” she began. “If we were to engage in intercourse, my magic could begin to repair your body at the cellular level. In essence, your body would begin to regenerate areas where you have damage.”

Draco wanted to sleep with Hermione. He’d wanted to sleep with her even before she began to treat him with her innate sex magic, but after she began to touch him so intimately, the desire became almost unbearable at times. He longed to touch her, but as a pureblood wizard, he knew witches with sexual healing abilities were judicious about who they chose to heal. Throughout wizarding history, sorcière du sexe were a well-protected secret in most families. In pureblood marriage arrangements, a sorcière du sexe would guarantee health and strong progeny for a family’s beloved son. It was ironic that Draco had been taught to hate Hermione Granger, but had his parents known of her gift, they’d have paid a king’s ransom to have her for their son. Draco suspected Hermione didn’t quite know her value in terms of archaic marriage arrangements, but she knew enough about wizarding culture to keep her gift a secret.

In answer, Draco took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her palm. She looked at him in the dim light, his face lined with fatigue and remnants of the debilitating pain he’d experienced in the last twenty-four hours. The touch of his lips on her sensitive palm caused her body to ignite, her pent up sexual magic making her body thrum in anticipation. Noticing her breath hitch, Draco took the opportunity to turn her face and kiss her, relishing her full lips and the sensual feel of her tongue lapping against his.

As they kissed, Draco began to touch her, exploring the places previously prohibited to him. As he unbuttoned her shirt, all the things he wanted to whisper to her got stuck in his throat.

You are so beautiful.

Your hair is so soft.

You taste like honey and cinnamon.

Your skin feels like silk.

When her bra was unhooked and her breasts freed, Draco took a pink nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the nub.

“Oh, Gods,” she moaned.

It had been so long since she’d been touched this way. She kneaded his shoulders as his hand slipped between her legs. Ever so lightly, he rubbed his finger over her damp knickers.

“Are you ready?” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he said, quickly removing the rest of his clothing as Hermione did the same.

Hermione rose to her knees admiring Draco’s lean body. His erection jutted from his body, a bead of pre-come wetting the tip. Without a second thought, Hermione leaned down and licked the liquid from him.

“Ahh!” he gasped. He, too, had been without a bed partner for quite some time and oral sex was something Astoria had preferred to avoid. Taking him into her mouth for a langorous pull, Draco felt as if his entire focus was on the witch before him. Too soon she stopped and straddled him.

“Now?”

Draco nodded, then closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation of entering her tight, wet sheath. When her pelvis rested on his, he opened his eyes to the most arousing sight he’d ever beheld. Her breathing was shallow as she struggled to stay still for another moment.

“We need to move slowly. Let my magic take hold of your body and focus on your healing.”

Her hips began to move and Draco let her lead, enjoying the view of her bouncing breasts and the grip of her hot quim around him. Her hands rested on his chest while his hands went to her full arse, exploring the crease between her cheeks, which she seemed to like. The gentle tingle of her sex magic worked its way up his spine and warmed his body several degrees.

Draco looked at Hermione and saw she was beginning to perspire and her gentle rhythm was becoming more erratic.

“Are you close?”

He nodded and pulled Hermione down to kiss her, needing to taste her as her hips began to buck against him. When he could no longer hold back, he began to thrust into her body, his balls slapping against her.

All at once, the heat and pleasure he’d been feeling rushed into a feeling of total euphoria as he came. She broke the kiss with a deep, loud moan. Her body pulsed around him, drawing out his intense orgasm. Finally, their hips stopped moving and Hermione collapsed against him. Surprising her, Draco hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you,” he murmured, making no move to let her go.

Hermione snuggled against his body, enjoying the closeness.

After Hermione gave Scorpius, who couldn’t stop talking about the Weasleys, a goodbye hug, Draco pressed two bags of Galleons into her hand.

“What’s this?”

“Your weekly wages,” he said. “Is it not enough?”

“It’s fine,” Hermione choked out. “Come on, Rosie, we’ve got to go.”

The perceptive little girl, hearing the strain in her mum’s voice, ran to Hermione and took her hand.

“I’m ready, Mummy.”

Hermione wasn’t able to look at Draco as they left the house. She Apparated as soon as they cleared the wards.   What had happened between her and Draco the past weekend…obviously it had been a mistake on her part. Yes, she had helped him, but she thought he understood that what she was doing was based on something other than business. How wrong she’d been! True, she had healed him, but didn’t he understand how careful she had to be about whom she bedded? Hermione thought he understood it wasn’t his money she wanted, but when she left his house, she felt like every bit the whore. Gods, as soon as she realized she had feelings for him, she should have made excuses to send him to another Healer. And now she was in a situation where she was hurt, but even worse, Rosie would not understand why she could no longer see Scorpius and Draco.

Despite feeling healthier than he had his whole adult life, Draco’s heart was heavy. He wasn’t sure what he’d done or said, but the way Hermione had fled his house led him to believe something, even if it was unknown to him, had happened.

The week seemed to drag as he thought about what to say to Hermione at his appointment on Friday. However, an owl came early on Friday afternoon, nipping at Draco as soon as he took the letter from the bird’s leg. He recognized Hermione’s neat cursive on the front of the note.

Dear Draco,

I am no longer able to treat you, due to a conflict of interest on my part. Healer Dacyczyn at St. Mungo’s would be my recommendation for futher treatment. I have appreciated your patronage these past few years and wish you a healthy, happy life.

Hermione Granger

He read the note three times before crumpling it and throwing it at the wall.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

Most of his life, he avoided emotional confrontations, even more so after the war. When he’d buried his parents, he’d done so alone, grieving in private. His marriage to Astoria had been characterized by ignoring each other’s shortcomings instead of fighting and chaste smiles when things were seemingly fine.

So, while he had traditionally swallowed his feelings and painted a mask of indifference in the face of horrible loss, the glimmer of a better future was evaporating before his very eyes and he could not lose that possible life for himself and for Scorpius.

“Daddy? I’m ready to see Rosie,” Scorpius said, toting a bag of books and toys.

Draco picked up his son and kissed his soft cheek. “Not for few hours, son. Would you like to read your new book?”

“It’s in my bag,” Scorpius said, wiggling out of Draco’s arms to get to his pack.

Hermione was in her office, looking through her ledger, when she heard a child’s happy titter.

“Rosie, I’m in my office if you need me,” Hermione called.

As Hermione listened, she realized there were two children’s voices, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the second voice belonged to little Scorpius. Before she had a chance to react, her door swung open and the two tots swarmed her. In the short time she’d known Draco’s son, she’d grown attached to him. And Rosie and Scorpius were kindred spirits, attached at the hip like they’d known each other their whole lives.

“Herminy!” Scorpius squealed, giving Hermione a sloppy kiss.

She hugged the two little bodies to hers, inhaling their sweet scents, shoring herself up to deal with Scorpius’ father. She was almost certain he wouldn’t show up after her terse note. He came to stand in her doorway, a melancholy smile on his face as he watched her with the children.

“Rosie, Scorp, why don’t you two go play in the telly room for a few minutes?”

Rosie took Scorp’s hand. “Let’s go, Scorpy! I want to see what you brought.”

Hermione almost began to cry when her daughter stopped to hug Draco, patting his leg almost in reassurance before continuing with Scorpius. Draco made his way to the chair in front of her desk, slowly arranging his tall body, giving himself time to think before speaking.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked, trying to assume her role as Draco’s Healer for the moment to push off the feeling of unease settling in her gut.

“I’m not here for that,” Draco said, his penetrating look showing her his serious intent. “I’m here to tell you why your wish for me can’t happen.”

“Pardon me?”

He sighed. “You said in your note that you wished me a happy, healthy life. Well, that won’t be possible any longer.”

“Why’s that?” she whispered, swallowing down tears.

He leaned over the desk and grabbed her hands. “Because I’m in love with you and I won’t be happy if you’re not in my life.”

“You are?”

His warm fingers stroked her hands. “I’ve been absolutely crazy about you for a while. I’m not a hero, not at all, but if you gave this thing between us a chance, I promise to love you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“I…” Hermione stopped, taking a stutter-y inhale. “This isn’t just about sex?”

“No! I mean, that part is amazing, but no, it’s about you and how wonderful you are to me and to Scorpius. I adore you.”

Feeling a lightness make itself at home in her heart, Hermione went around the desk, took Draco’s face in her hands, and kissed him.

“Draco?” she said when they finally separated. “I love you, too.”

Twelve Year Later

Rose and Scorpius walked ahead of their parents as they made their way to Platform 9 ¾. Draco walked beside their ten year old, Bram, while Hermione held hands with Cleo, their six year old.

“Are you ready to do this next year?” Draco asked Bram.

Bram puffed out his chest. “I’m ready to go this year.”

Draco chuckled, well aware that Bram was his little Gryffindor. “Well, I don’t think Mum would like that.”

“Mum will miss me,” Bran conceded. “But Scorp and Rose will take care of me, even if they are Ravenclaws.”

Scorpius and Rose, not surprising either parent, had ended up in Ravenclaw. Much to Draco’s delight, both had positions on the Quidditch team and spent hours in the summer taking lessons from their father. All four children were close to their father, who they saw throughout the day, as he continued to work from home.

Draco was taken aback when he looked across the platform and saw Harry Potter with his wife and son. When Draco had asked Hermione to marry him, he had asked if he could legally adopt Rose. Hermione loved the idea, but knew she needed to get Harry to give up his paternal role, even if it was only on paper. Surprising her, Draco had found Harry and had him sign the necessary paperwork. Draco knew Hermione and Harry had never had a romantic relationship, but he still couldn’t understand why Harry hadn’t wanted a relationship with Rose. Rose was gifted, both academically and emotionally, with a knack for getting all walks of life to open up to her. And he loved her for becoming Scorpius’ friend and confidante when he’d feared his son would forever be shunned for the sin of being a Malfoy.

“I didn’t realize Harry’s son was starting school this year,” Hermione murmured to her husband as they stopped to stand beside each other. “He’s Rose’s half-brother.”

“Looks like Rose is from the deep end of the gene pool,” Draco remarked. Hermione had learned such comments usually came from a place of loyalty, no matter how snarky they sounded.

She shook her head, but pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “Behave, you. I think Rose and I both lucked out. Rose couldn’t have had a better father than you.”

Draco warmed from her praise, still deeply appreciated after so many years. It still amazed him that she had taken a broken man and not only healed him, but transformed him into the man he was today: a husband, a father of four, a respected author once again accepted in wizarding society.

Rose and Scorpius re-joined their family to say their goodbyes. Hermione looked up at Scorpius as he ruffled her hair, causing her curls to erupt with a mind of their own.

“Oh, Scorp, I’ll miss you,” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his slim waist. He looked so much like his father, but he was his own person and Hermione loved him for that. He’d accepted Rose and Hermione into his little family without reservation, always quick to offer a smile or a hug.

“I’ll miss you, too, Mum. Expect an owl from me with a detailed list of biscuits for my first care package.”

Hermione laughed and tightened her arms before letting go to hug her daughter.

“Rosie,” Hermione said, embracing her solid form and pushing her unruly dark hair out of her eyes. Hermione’s gaze traveled to Harry’s son.

“I’ll keep an eye out for him,” Rose said with a nod to the little boy about to board the train, following her mother’s gaze. “Take care of Daddy.”

“I will,” Hermione said, pressing a kiss to Rose’s forehead.

Distracted by their farewells, the group did not notice Harry Potter watching them. He understood the power of love and saw it in spades with the Malfoys. What he could have offered Hermione and Rose would have paled in comparison to the love Draco Malfoy had offered them. Harry knew Rose and Draco’s son weren’t related by blood, but the way they interacted was as strong a familial bond as Harry had ever seen. Harry’s gaze shifted and he found Draco watching him. The blonde gave him a gracious dip of the head, which Harry returned.

Late that evening as Hermione sat at the big kitchen island as Draco cleaned up the kitchen, she examined him: after the first time they’d slept together, his body had began mending itself at a rapid pace. He looked younger than he did when she began treating him and amazingly, she did as well. Her body tapped into the healing magic of sex, causing her hair to shine, her skin to be rosy and smooth, and her body to keep the tone and firmness of youth. After giving birth to three children, she had a bit more to her breasts and stomach, but those qualities added to her femininity and allure. Draco’s hair, which had started thinning in his mid-twenties, was as thick as it was when he was a teenager, while his body had developed muscles from his daily runs and time spent on his broom with the children. Most noticeably, his eyes had lost the wariness he’d had so many years ago.

“What are you thinking about?” Hermione wondered.

Draco levitated a stack of dishes into cupboard, then turned to her.

“While we were putting the kids on the train, I felt so fortunate to have this life with you and with them. I’m very grateful.”

“I’ve been blessed, too. You gave me the family I’ve always wanted.”

Stretching so his back gave a loud crack, he made his way to his wife and took her hand.

“Come on, love. I think I’m going to need a treatment tonight.”

Hermione laughed. “Yes, you do seem a bit off. I think I’ll be able to help you.”

“You’re a miracle worker, Healer Malfoy,” Draco said, slinging his arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek as they made their way through the darkened house to their bedroom.
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Tales of The Dragon and The Bookworm