Chapter 16 : Fears
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“May we talk now?” Draco pleaded walking into the library to his house.
“I went and saw Genevieve after I woke up,” Hermione admitted sitting down in one of the many small wooden chairs surrounding the table in the library, covered in half opened books.
“Why would you do that?” Draco replied rubbing his temple with his index finger.
“I had to see her, make sense of everything, see if everything that happened was real,” Hermione snapped with an agitated tone. She placed her hands in her lap, soothing herself a bit.
“Yes, everything that happened was real. Hermione you’ve been gone for so many days, you died in my arms, but I got to you just in time. I’ve died a thousand deaths the past few days,” Draco explained kneeling down in front of her.
“I know you have, and I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” Hermione stumbled biting her lip.
“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing, it should be me. I’m the one who’s sorry, I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have. And you’re right, I do coward out when we talk about change, I’ve realized you need somebody to bond with on your levels, and neither I nor Scoripus may do that,” He admitted smiling nervously at her.
“When I said that, I didn’t mean I wanted another child now, I wanted one sometime down the road,” She responded placing his face in her hands.
He inhaled her scent sharply and sighed loudly, leaning his face into her firm grasp more, relishing in the touch her had missed for almost a week.
“Have you still been having nightmares?” Hermione asked after a few moments of gazing at each other.
“Hermione, I’ve had one every night since you were harmed, but these times, you haven’t been there to wake me, and reassure me. You haven’t been there to tell me everything will be okay, and it pains me to realize you’re the only bit of hope I have in my life,” Draco informed closing his eyes.
“Hey, look at me,” Hermione demanded leaning closer to his face.
His beautiful, heavy grey eyes glanced up at her emerald circles.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” She reassured kissing him chastely on the lips, “Now, let’s get to bed. You look as if you haven’t had sleep in days, which I can’t attest to.”
Hermione bolted up in her sleep at the figure lying down next to her thrashing in his sleep. The blankets were circled around his legs pinning them together and small whimpers were falling from his soft lips. She clutched his face tightly, flicking the bedside lamp on, trying her best to wake him up.
“Draco, I’m right here, everything’s okay, I’m here, nothing will harm you, I’ve got you,” She soothed placing his head on her chest and wrapping her small arms tightly around his body, clutching him close.
She felt his head shake agreeing on her chest and listened as his breath shortened again, traveling back to his small, light snores of sleep, telling her he was alright.
A high pitched scream channeled both of their attention, making Draco jump from the bed and run towards Scoripus’s room. Hermione sat up straight slowly, realizing it wasn’t a scream of pain, but a scream of want.
Draco walked back into the room with Scoripus in his arms and lied back down on the bed, placing Scoripus between him and Hermione. She tugged the blankets up to his chin and held onto Draco as their son, quickly, fell asleep between the two without hesitation, making the same actions depict onto Draco and Hermione.
“We can’t continue to baby him like this,” Draco said, sitting on the counter of the bathroom sink, watching Hermione play around with her hair.
“Draco, how old is he?” Hermione sighed glancing at him.
“One,” He gave in.
“Exactly, and I’m his mother, I will continue to baby him until he’s 100. I carried him for 9 months, that’s 9 months more time I’ve hand experience wise, then you have. So I will baby OUR son, forever,” She replied with a slight smile.
“When he turns into a wimp that’ll be your fault,” Draco scolded shaking his head.
“Just like his father,” Hermione giggled running a hand down Draco’s back, stroking lightly. She watched as Draco glared heavily at her, “It was a joke.”
“I’m not a wimp, yes, a few things affect me, mainly when you’re harmed,” He admitted placing her face in his hands and kissing her softly.
Hermione smiled softly, beginning to bite on her bottom lip.
“And will you stop with this, I know your lip tastes good, I can attest to that, but it bothers me at times,” Draco protested pulling her lip from in between her teeth.
“Sorry, it’s something I’ve done forever,” She mumbled.
“Anything you’d like to do today?” He asked softly, standing up and peeling his shirt over his head, before turning the shower on, and testing the water with his hand.
“I’d like to take Scoripus to his grandparent’s grave in London,” Hermione admitted glancing down at her feet, gnawing at her lip.
An awkward silence fell between the two, making Hermione a bit worried.
“Would you like me to accompany you?” Draco asked breaking the silence. A large amount of relief fell from Hermione’s mouth.
“Yes please, I don’t think a one year old could comfort me the way you do,” She said.
“Let me take a shower, and get ready, we can leave after, okay love?” He replied stepping into the warm shower.
“Alright,” Hermione replied before shutting the bathroom door behind her and walking towards her closet.
She glanced into the mirror at her outfit, and sighed loudly. A quarter sleeved, knee length, black dress was placed around her body, with a pair of thigh highs, and her new peep toe, black heels. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and around her neck were her “old” mother’s favorite pearls.
Hermione had placed Scoripus in a small grey sweater and black pants. He was sitting in her lap, while combing his soft blonde hair.
Draco stepped out of the closet wearing a pair of black slacks and a charcoal colored sweater, with a white collared shirt underneath. A small black tie was tight around his neck underneath accompanying the white shirt as well.
Hermione rose from her seat on the bed picking Scoripus up with her, she clutched onto Draco’s chest lightly as she apparated her two favorite boys away to the local London cemetery her parents had been buried in almost two years ago. She led the two to the Fallen Angels section and stopped in the middle of the field at the front of her parent’s grave.
Slowly, she sat Scoripus down and watched as he walked over to her father’s tombstone and touched it with his small hand where a few lipstick marks had been produced from the many kisses Hermione had left from previous visits.
“That’s your grandpa,” Draco replied kneeling down next to him.
“Grandpa,” Scoripus repeated, pointing towards the large stone.
Hermione felt tears sting the back of her eyes, and felt her knees begin to buckle beneath her. Finally, she fell to her knees and let the tears fall, springing down her face, and into her hands clutching closely to her face. She felt Draco’s arms wrap tightly around her, while Scoripus hugged her legs as well.
Draco kneeled there for what felt like hours, tightly holding his sobbing, grieving wife, as she continuously glanced at the couple in front of her. After pulling her head up a final time, she wiped the remaining tears away and placed a small hand on her mother’s grave.
The wind blew softly past Hermione, toying with her ponytail while she rubbed her hand onto her father’s stone, “I love you.” She finally whispered placing a small kiss upon the rock.
Scoripus walked over and placed his own two lips onto his grandmother’s rock and waved to his grandfather’s as he rushed back over to Draco and reached his arms up, telling he wanted to be held.
Hermione clutched tightly onto Draco’s hand and felt the rapid pulling and tugging of apparation before reaching their manor, ending the small visit to the cemetery.
“He was very calm today,” Draco whispered into the moonlight, slowly stroking Hermione’s bare shoulder as she was wrapped up in his arms.
“I noticed,” She replied meekly.
Draco raised an eyebrow once a small smile crept across his lips, “Meek this evening, Mrs. Malfoy?”
“Sorry,” Hermione blushed.
“We need to get you out of this mood you’re in.”
“You’ve been upset lately.”
“Its these frequent nightmares,” Hermione sighed.
“I want you to remember something Hermione.”
“They’re just misunderstood dreams, they mean nothing. And whenever you wake in the middle of the night you wake up next to me, I’m always here. Always have been, always will be.”
Hermione bolted up from her bed at the sound of a ear-piercing scream coming from down the hallway. Alongside of her Draco was already heading towards the door, and was back in a matter of seconds cradling Scoripus in his arms.
“What’s wrong baby boy?” Hermione replied taking Scoripus as he held his arms around for her to take.
“Boom,” Scoripus replied burying his face in the crook of her neck and hair.
“Oh, it’s just a storm, nothing more.”
“We might as well move his crib in here, like the first few months he was born,” Draco huffed running a hand through his hair.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Hermione agreed.
“I wasn’t being serious!”
“I was,” She replied sympathetically, “Draco, can’t you see, he’s one and already he’s discovering his fears. Nightmares, thunderstorms, what else is there? Those are toddler fears, let him sleep with us tonight and we’ll figure out what we can do with him tomorrow.”
“Come here,” Draco whispered holding his hands out for Scoripus. Quickly, Scoripus threw himself in Draco’s arms and lied his head down on Draco’s chest once he lied down.
Hermione moved her body up against Draco’s and held around his stomach, while his free hand that wasn’t holding Scoripus snaked around her waist falling asleep quickly.
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