A Second Look - A Dramione Story

Chapter 8

Warning: This is not my story. It is from RiverWriter on ao3.

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In Wiltshire, Draco also woke up with a smile on his face on Saturday morning. He liked to think that he was a smart man, even if he'd made some major mistakes in his life, at least he'd learned from them. This burgeoning thing with Hermione was proof of that.

The woman had sat tucked contentedly into his side, for hours the day before. First, talking to him openly, then allowing him to see her vulnerability in front of those awful women. And then later, eagerly explaining the movie to him. Her unguarded, happy expression had been so refreshing - everything about her was refreshing. He tried to remember the last time he'd seen Astoria enjoy anything, or his mother, for that matter. Pure-blooded women were taught to be mysterious and refined, and overt displays of emotion did not constitute either.

By contrast, Hermione was unfiltered. He knew that she was certainly capable of maintaining a poker face. Potter sat in his ancestral seat on the Wizengamot, but anybody with any political acumen could see that she constituted the real brain and force behind him. And she never would have been able to be successful in politics if she couldn't bluff or hide her true thoughts. He was lucky enough to have gotten to witness her with her friends, and she was with him as she was with them: an open book.

He got an unexpected amount of pleasure at the idea that she chose to be real with him. She was not Astoria. She cared nothing for who he was or what his name, title, or money could offer her. In fact, she seemed to like him despite all those things, and Merlin knew she'd suffered at his family's hands. That she had agreed to spend time with him at all had actually invited him into her home not once, but twice- was rather breathtaking.

And he couldn't believe that it had only been a week since they'd run into her in the Apothecary- or rather since she'd come to his rescue. So much has happened since then. But his life had changed in just a moment while inside that shop, and it was difficult to wrap one's brain around that kind of sudden, monumental change. Only Scorpius' birth had affected him more profoundly than her abrupt reintroduction into his life.

He had known he'd wanted things to change in his life since he'd first held Scorpius in his arms and realized that the world he inhabited was nowhere near good enough for his precious son. But he'd had no idea how to go about making things change other than to separate himself from Astoria- and he'd only done that for his own sanity, not as part of some master plan.

Hermione was an epiphany. The answer to all his questions rolled up in one stunning little package, and just when he'd needed her the most. He'd felt like an impotent fool- completely unable to ease his child's suffering over something as routine as teething- and then there she was offering help as effortlessly as breathing. For some reason he hadn't felt threatened or condescended to, or even particularly wary of her when she'd appeared inside of the shop, calling his name.

But it was when she'd taken Scorpius into her arms that he'd actually had to fight to school his expression. For eight months it had been just himself and his son; the two of them in their own world with only an occasional visitor, but in that moment he felt that world expand to include another. He hadn't been shopping for a replacement mother for Scorpius, or anything foolish like that, but when he'd seen the way she looked at his baby he couldn't help but wonder if she might want the role. If she might grow to want him too. He'd never been so gobsmacked, such outrageously bold ideas were so unlike him. But he'd watched her fall in love with his son in the blink of an eye as she cradled him that first time, and in that short time he was pretty sure he fell in love too.

From that moment on he'd been on a mission, for Scorpius, but also for himself: they were going to keep her. He'd give her the world if that's what it took. He'd make their world a place she couldn't bear to leave. Every action he'd taken in the past week was with that goal in mind.

It made him consider the idea that maybe he'd been a little bit in love with her for a long time and he'd just needed to see her with his child to realize it. Or, not love, exactly, but something that could have easily grown into it, had he been free to fall. But prejudice had blinded him to the possibility for a long time.

It had probably been a form of self preservation. Though he cringed now, to think about how he'd treated her when they were younger. However, if he'd openly admired her as a teenager he would have been unable to hide it from his father, and Lucius would have skinned him alive. Figuratively speaking, of course, the man needed his heir. Still, it would not have been pleasant. But worse, if his Aunt Bellatrix or the Dark Lord had discovered that secret, the flaying would have been literal.

No, he'd looked at her only to find fault during their Hogwarts days. But he could admit now that what he'd felt had been admiration. He had hated her because she wasn't the vile creature he'd been told she should be, hated that she'd failed to meet his expectations. He'd never hated her. It wasn't an excuse, it was wrong, but it was what it was. And she seemed willing to forgive him.

He was in awe.

And he was trying very hard to make his intentions clear, but not to come on too strongly. He'd noticed in the short amount of time they'd spent together that she had a skittish quality about her which, frankly, pissed him off. This beautiful woman should be fully confident in her own desirability and he blamed that indiscreet cretin Weasley completely, especially now that he knew how he'd treated her.

He had seen Weasley and his wife at plenty of events. Brown- now Weasley- was pretty, but in a way he found to be garish and that was just begging to be noticed. It was such a contrast to Hermione's effortless, dignified beauty. She didn't need to be all made up for him to want her. And he had every intention of convincing her of that fact, but he wouldn't have the opportunity if he scared her off before he got the chance to make sure she knew it. She was a gorgeous wild thing, basically the opposite of every woman he'd ever met and he didn't want to startle her so much that he chased her away.

Surprisingly, he felt some sort of compulsion to be honest with her, and had been uncharacteristically upfront about everything they'd talked about thus far. He'd discussed the details of his divorce with her, for Merlin's sake! And he could tell it was throwing her, even as it pleased her. Because he was quite infamously a Slytherin, and so he couldn't blame her for being suspicious and insecure about his behavior. He'd have been more shocked if she wasn't suspicious at all. Which meant he'd have to be even more uncharacteristically open with her, and tell her how he felt and what he was up to.

He heard his son cry out via the monitoring charms that had been placed around his cot. Not an unhappy sound, just wanting some attention, to let the world know he was awake. It only made Draco smile wider. He climbed out of bed cheerfully, though he'd never really been a morning person before Scorpius, and had just done what he needed to in order to be on time for school, and later on in life, work. But these days he was usually anxious to get up and see his son.

He made his way to the nursery, pausing to observe the baby who, rather hilariously, had his face pressed between the slats of the cot to get a better view of his father. He reached out with one hand. "Bahbahbahbah," he cried. It was simply another call for attention, the little boy was just staring at him, curiously and patiently. Draco couldn't imagine how he and Astoria had produced such a happy, easy child. Neither of them fit the description, to be sure.

"Morning, Scorp," he said, approaching the cot and laying one hand over his son's pale head. It could nearly encapsulate his boy's entire skull and he felt, as he had since his birth, blown away by this tiny human's vulnerability and the weight of his responsibility to him. "You like Hermione right?"

Scorpius immediately jerked his head upward and grinned. "Bah!" He squealed, and reached out his arms to be picked up.

That was good enough for Draco and he pulled him up into his arms. "Let's go find a house then, alright?" Scorpius headbutted him in agreement.