Hermione followed Draco to the entrance of the restaurant, her hand clutching her purse tightly as she began to grow more nervous the closer they got. She suddenly pulled her hand free from her husband's, backing away from the restaurant. He looked at her, his pale blond hair falling across his forehead as he frowned. She whispered, "I can't do this."


"What?" Draco asked softly, glaring at a couple that rudely moved past him to enter the building. He moved closer to his wife, asking, "What do you mean, Hermione? I thought you were okay."


"I thought I could do it, Draco, but I can't," she shook her head, "I'm sorry."


"We're here, Hermione," he said slowly, his patience thin because he was as stressed about this as she was and he was anxious for it to be over so he could go home with his wife and have this behind them. "You agreed."


"I know I did!" she snapped as she whirled around and walked away from the entrance, oblivious to the cold rain that fell on her, ruining the hair that she had spent so much time attempting to control. She was wearing her best robes, a deep burgundy that made her look pretty instead of simply average, and she had a light amount of make-up on her face, something she normally never wore. Tonight was special, though, and she had wanted to make a good impression because she knew that Draco was worried. She had agreed when he had hesitantly brought up the topic, knowing that he would never force her to do something he knew she didn't want to do, but also knowing that she loved him and that this might alleviate some of his recent stress and make him smile again.


"Hermione, damn it," Draco cursed under his breath as he followed her down the sidewalk. He drew his blue robe tighter as he walked, the rain cold and he only hoped neither of them got sick. He reached her and grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him. He saw the tears in her eyes and his anger dissipated as he pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry."


"I just don't think I can do it, Draco," Hermione whispered, "I thought I was strong enough, that I was brave enough, but I'm scared. I don't want to lose you."


"I'm not going anywhere, Hermione," he told her as he kissed her cheek, "you're stuck with me forever, remember?"


She looked into his pale gray eyes and smiled softly, "I love you."


"Of course you do," he smirked, watching her eyes flash with amusement, "after all, there are many a witch who wish they could have a handsome and intelligent wizard such as I completed devoted to them, but, alas, you are the lucky witch that stole my heart."


"You're such a prat," she laughed as she looked towards the restaurant, the smile fading.


"It's okay. We won't go," Draco said quietly, his fingers brushing her wet curls away from her cheek. "I'll send an owl when we get home explaining that something came up."


"No, this is important to you," Hermione decided, "I'm a Gryffindor, darn it. We're supposed to be brave and courageous. I can surely manage to survive dinner."


"Are you sure?" he asked as he looked into her eyes, seeing the stubborn determination and smiling slightly. "He's changed a lot, Hermione. I would never have asked you to do this if I had any doubts or misgivings regarding his intentions. He sincerely wanted to meet you."


"It's just weird," Hermione confessed, "he scares me, in a way, and I hate that."


"I'd never let him hurt you," Draco smiled softly, "and if you feel uncomfortable, we'll leave."


"It'll be fine," Hermione assured him, leaning up and brushing her lips gently against his. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving behind her back as the rain soaked them. Finally, she pulled back and smiled, "Just promise me that you won't deliberately provoke me. If you do, you're sleeping in the guest room and not having a wild shag tonight, mister!"


"I like provoking you," he grinned as he kissed her forehead, sighing dramatically as he agreed, "but, fine, tonight I'll play nice. But that's only because you promised me a wild shag when we get back to the flat."


"We'll see," she teased as she took his hand and followed him back towards the restaurant. Once they were beneath the awning, he removed his wand and performed a drying charm on their clothes but her hair was a ruined. It was frizzy and disheveled and she knew she must look a mess. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before following her husband of six years into the restaurant.


Draco stopped in the lobby and bought a rose from a smiling girl and turned towards Hermione. He smiled as he saw her nervously chewing on her bottom lip, putting the rose behind her ear and telling her, "You look beautiful."


"And you're a charming liar," she replied as she caught his hand and placed a kiss on his palm. "Let's get this over with, okay? Before I chicken out and leave."


"I love you," he whispered the words he rarely said, seeing the tender look in her eyes as smiled. His wife was stunning, he thought proudly, hook her arm through his before following the maitre d to a table near the back, away from the gossiping patrons.


Hermione saw him as they drew near. He was fiddling with a shaker of salt, his pale blond hair still long and kept fastened by a strap of leather. His face showed lines of age, but he still looked a decade or two younger than his fifty-three years. She realized as they go closer that he was nervous, the idea astounding to her. Narcissa was speaking softly, patting the top of his hand and squeezing it in a way similar to how Draco had held her own outside. He was drinking wine, his fingers tapping the glass as he spoke to his wife, neither having noticed her and Draco yet.


Suddenly, she looked at Lucius Malfoy and didn't see the evil Pureblood snob that had been put into Azkaban ten years ago, instead seeing a wizard that had spent the last decade in prison, his face gaunt and his figure too thin. There was an uneasiness in him that she recognized from Sirius, as if he couldn't sit still for too long, having spent the last decade confined to a small cell and now ready to move, to walk around as he pleased. Narcissa looked up and smile, her hand tightening around his, showing Hermione that there was love between her in-laws, something she had always doubted despite Narcissa's bi-weekly visits to Azkaban.


He looked up then, their eyes meeting, and she saw the fear and anxiety and recognized the signs of someone who was scared they would not be accepted or liked. She found it odd that one such as Lucius Malfoy might care that a Mudblood didn't like him, but knowing that Draco had said his Father had changed, that the years in prison had done him some good, that he was far more grateful for what he had than ever before. She looked at Draco then back at his Father, her nervousness fading as she gave him a shy smile and received a tentative one in return. She could do this, she could face the former Deatheater and not be afraid of him because he wasn't a threat and he didn't want to hurt her. Hermione had just realized that she and Lucius had one very important thing in common. They both loved Draco and were willing to do whatever it took to insure her husband's happiness, even being friendly to each other.

*the end *