“You will not go anywhere. You're done,” he said, and his eyes turned to steel. “You'll stay here and take care of our daughter like you promised you would. That was your deal two years ago. I saved Ginny for you, and you gave your word you'd stop. Whatever I wanted. You promised you'd leave and never go back. You took extremely long detour, but I'm holding you to that promise now.”
She shook her head again. “Draco—”
He gave a sharp sigh and his expression shifted from unrelenting to pleading. He pressed his hand against her jaw. “It's not your job to keep breaking yourself to pieces to save everyone. Have you seen yourself, Granger? There's hardly anything left of you.” His eyes were wide as he stared intently at her. “Living is not worth it to me if you're the one who keeps paying the price for it.”
Her mouth twisted. “But — I need you, Draco — I can't—” Her voice was shaking.
He pressed his forehead against hers, his hand cradling the nape of her neck. “And I need you too.”
She gave a broken sob and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“If it didn't work, we'll figure something else out,” he said in a low voice, his mouth near her ear. “But you will not, under any circumstances, go on another suicide mission in an attempt to save me. Come on, breathe slowly. I'm not dead, I'm right here with you. You're safe.”
Hermione gave a shuddering gasp. “What if it went wrong? What will we do?”
He brushed his thumb along her cheek. “We'll figure it out.”
“You can't die. Don't die, Draco.” She kept saying it over and over under her breath.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Ginny was hovering beside them. “I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd upset her.”
“She needs to eat. She's barely eaten in days.
“Oh god, she didn't mention — I'll go get food now.”
There was a sliding sound and then a sharp click as Ginny left.
Hermione sat, holding Draco tightly for several more minutes as her heart slowly stopped pounding. “Sorry. I was alright, and then—”
“It's fine.” He stroked her hair. “I was heading back anyway. I should have stayed. I thought you and Ginny would get along better without me.”
Hermione gave a wistful smile. “It's been so long since I've seen anyone I knew. I forgot — how much there is.”
Draco gave a sharp sigh and his fingers twitched. “You don't have to see her. She can stay in her own part of the house.”
“No.” She shook her head and straightened in order to look at him. “I want to see her. I just — I thought it would be simpler. I suppose nothing is ever simple for us. She was curious about how we escaped and talking about it made me think about how it could still go wrong. I got overwhelmed — but I kept breathing, usually I can't. This time I made myself keep breathing until you came. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know asking would upset me. I didn't even know.” Her fingertips brushed lightly across his cheek. “She shouldn't have hit you; that's what I'm upset about.”
He snorted. “She came at me with a knife the first time I arrived to check on her. Slapping is nothing.” There was a pause and a faint glint entered his eyes. “I seem to recall you slapping me once.”
Hermione stared at him for a moment and then the corner of her mouth quirked up as heat rose to the hollows of her cheeks.
She looked away, glancing around the room. “She said you set these rooms up.”
He nodded.
“They're lovely.”
He grimaced. “It's gotten cramped. I got carried away buying books.”
She smiled and gave him a sidelong glance. “That's why it's lovely.”
He laughed. She thought it might be the first genuine laugh she'd ever heard from him.
It only lasted a moment.
Hermione felt the corners of her eyes crinkle as she stared at him. “And you made me a lab.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up as he raised an eyebrow. “Well, I'm retiring you from healing. I thought it was time you pursued a branch of magic you enjoyed.”
The smile playing at her mouth faded away, and she looked down at her lap. “I–I don't hate healing. It was just — traumatic — because of the war. The science of it did interest me.”
He stared at her, his eyes skeptical. “Was healing ever a career you considered before you realised the Resistance needed healers?”
“Well,” she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, “there were only a few options available for anyone.”
“And by complete coincidence you ended up in the one that no one else wanted.” His voice was caustic.
A large tray of food appeared, with heaping platefuls of vegetables, steak and kidney pie, and mashed potatoes, and apple turnovers.
Comfort food.
Draco made a sound of dismay as he stared at the food. “Weasley's still interfering in the kitchen.”
Hermione ignored him and served them both platefuls of more food than either of them could possibly eat.
Draco kept muttering complaints under his breath while Hermione gorged herself. She couldn't remember when she had eaten so much. It was all so familiar-tasting. Food she'd eaten growing up. Dinners at the Burrow during the summers before school started.