"Death suddenly shook and tossed in sleep, and the dream vanished.

For a brief moment Death had fallen asleep and dreamt of life."

— Nikos Kazantzakis (translated by Kimon Friar)

Hermione huffed out an exhausted sigh after putting up the last of the wards on the safehouse. After the attack on Shell Cottage and spending the night at headquarters afterwards, she, Malfoy, and Scorpius were assigned to a safehouse close to a remote town in France. It was smaller and shabbier than the safehouse they usually resided in. It didn't have a library, but it was snug and usually uninhabited by other Order members. Thankfully, Kingsley decided not to assign anyone else to the location since tensions were still high after the attack. As Kingsley and Moody sorted the mess back at HQ, she and Malfoy were tasked with laying low and doing more internal research for the time being.

Hermione shuddered at the memories from that night — the mutilated bodies of her own friends and the terrified face of Scorpius. Scorpius was still a little shaken up too, more subdued and clingy than usual, but she couldn't blame the little boy. He seemed more at ease, however, now that they were away from the crowds of people.

She was dusting her shoes in the hallway when she paused. There were sounds coming from the living room. A melody echoed through the sparse space — beckoning her closer. Before she could comprehend what she was doing, her footsteps brought her closer to the sound until she found herself close enough to peek through the doorway.

And there, in the living room, was Draco Malfoy seated before an old maple wood piano that was covered in a fine veil of dust. He seemed too focused to notice her presence as his fingers danced over the keys. The tune he played was one she had not heard before, yet there was something about it that was both familiar and foreign. She watched in a trance as his eyelids fluttered shut and his brows furrowed. The melody started heavy and slow, the notes cold and disjointed as the room echoed with solemn chords striking gently. Then, almost tentatively — as if hesitant — a sweeter, lighter harmony began to unfold, awakening from a long slumbering darkness. The music swelled into a crescendo, taking flight, higher and higher. Then, it stopped — abruptly, like an unfinished question, a prelude to something more.

Hermione stood still, holding her breath as the afternoon light touched his white-blond hair, radiant against the greying walls of the old living room. His pale eyes were open now, glassy — in thought, in concentration, and what looked like... confusion. After a moment, he cocked his head, but when he turned towards the doorway, she was already gone.

***

"What dis, daddy?"

"Erm it seems to be liquid chocolate in a jar." Hermione suppressed a smile as she gathered some canned goods from the aisle opposite Draco and Scorpius. This was their first time at a muggle grocery. She had relented to bringing them along because, firstly, her French was abysmal while she knew Malfoy was fluent in the language, and secondly, Scorpius started worrying and tearing up when she told him she had to leave for the grocery that day. Bad people, Mini! You not safe!

"It's a kind of chocolate spread — I'll grab some," Hermione said as she reached over and put a jar of Nutella in her basket. "I just need some things from the vegetable section and then we can go."

Malfoy nodded silently. She had expected him to make comments about being around the muggles, to sneer at their casual clothing and the openness in which they spoke to strangers. His expression was still guarded but she noted his curiosity in the way his eyes darted and brows furrowed when he walked down the aisle of brightly colored plastic packaging and observed the bar codes being scanned. Scorpius' curiosity was clearer in his wide silver eyes — he turned and pointed, asking questions his father didn't always know the answer to. The muggles looked at them curiously, but avoided them when they caught Malfoy's imposing glare.

" — is roses like Nana's roses? Like Nana Cissa's garden?" Hermione looked over, catching the pair before a rack that held packets of seeds. For a moment, Malfoy's eyes betrayed a hint of both sadness and fondness as he held a packet that displayed red roses on it.

"Yes, just like Nana's rose garden," he murmured. Without warning, he placed the seeds in her basket.

When they arrived back at the safehouse, Hermione began unpacking the groceries and organizing them based on categories and then by expiry dates. The process brought her ease, finding a calm rhythm in cataloguing the supplies in perfect order. For a moment, it let her live in the delusion that she had some semblance of control over herself. She was almost finished when she caught sight of two blond heads through the kitchen window.

Outside in the backyard that led to a forest, Draco and Scorpius knelt on the ground and looked expectantly at it. Hermione looked in confusion but her curiosity was relieved by the sight of the empty packet of seeds by their side.

"Is it growing yet, daddy?" Scorpius' little voice asked. Draco's brows furrowed, pulling the packet and re-reading the instructions. He cast his wand again, adding more water and waited.

Hermione rolled her eyes, a smile tugging on her lips before she exited through the back door.

"You know, these things take time to grow — it doesn't happen overnight," she said once she reached them.

"My mother had rose bushes, Granger," Malfoy huffed, jutting his chin upwards. "They grew all year round, in different colors even. These muggles seeds are probably bad quality — "

"I'll have you know that both muggles and wizarding folk use the same kinds of seeds! In fact, many wizards use seeds cultivated by muggles because they retain their organic properties without being tampered by magic. I would say the only difference is in terms of gardening techniques since wizards can use spells to catalyze and manipulate the growth of their plants. I assume that either your mother or house-elves used such spells?"

Draco frowned but he nodded.

"Mini, how we fix it?" Scorpius pouted, his excitement stifled from the lack of growing plants.

"I'm not that familiar with plant spells... " Hermione hesitated. Briefly, an image of Neville, talking excitedly about plants flashed through her memory, causing a pang in her chest. "But I know the muggle way of growing plants. We just need to take care and nourish the plant — but most importantly, have patience."

"We followed all the instructions! How come it's taking so long!" The bushy-haired little girl scowled as she looked at the barren patch of soil. Her father fondly ruffled her hair, pulling over the watering can and drizzling some water over the patch.

"It takes patience, Hermione dear," he said.

"Ugh I wish we could use magic or something to make it grow faster!" she exclaimed, prodding the ground with her little finger. The soil was damp and warm, bits of earth clinging to her finger and underneath her nails.

"That would be a convenient ability to have but sometimes you must let things grow in their own time. Putting the time and effort into taking care of something and watching it grow day by day? It's through that process that we learn to appreciate the simple little things," he chuckled. "If you used magic maybe you'd have a million flowers sprouting in a second! All beautiful and grand for sure but after a while, how much would you really appreciate them? How much fulfillment would that really bring you? It's not the end result that matters, it's the growth along the way. Being a witness to that growth, being a part of that journey from seeing the little seed go through adversity and grow and bloom — that is what I find more beautiful."

The little girl furrowed her brows, taking her time to process his words.

"To see the world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower..." he began.

"... hold infinity in the palms of your hand and eternity in an hour!" his daughter finished proudly. He smiled at her and pressed his lips to her forehead. They sat in the garden, patiently watching and waiting until the nightingale sang and a warm voice called them inside.

"Okay, will have patientience," Scorpius responded uncertainly.

Over the next few days, Hermione would look up from her research at eight in the morning and peer out the window to see two Malfoy's checking on the plant's progress (or lack thereof) and watering it. Hermione shook her head remembering the debate she and Malfoy had the previous day when he found a muggle botany book in one of the old rooms. He was insistent that the plants needed chemical 'boosters' but Hermione had dismissed his claims, insisting that growing them the natural way was the best way. He had simply frowned at her, adjusting his silver-rimmed spectacles and continuing on with his reading, mumbling about bushy-haired swots under his breath.

***

Draco woke from his nap, head still slightly aching but feeling more refreshed. He and Granger had been up all night following a lead using the resources she brought regarding Horcruxes. He got up and out of his room, keeping his steps quiet as he passed the slightly open door of the living room.

"Uhm is is... is an owl!"

"Yes! You're such a smart boy aren't you!" Draco rolled his eyes, knowing that Scorpius had been capable of identifying every single animal by heart since the age of one and a half. His little son just liked to impress her, and Draco smirked on his way to the kitchen knowing that the Brightest-Witch-of-Our-Age fell for his little act.

"Daddy?" Draco froze at the sound of his son's voice in the doorway. "What you eating?"

Draco turned around, swallowing before assembling his face into nonchalance, keeping his hands behind his back. His son sat snugly on Granger's hip as she had one hand covering her mouth, her guarded look dropping for just a moment.

Scorpius' eyes narrowed in accusation.

"My chocowates! You're eating my chocowates!"

Draco tried to keep the dignified look on his face even as his face flushed guiltily.

"I just had one Scorpius," Draco gritted out, matching his son's glare. "Remember what I said about sharing?"

His son frowned, little hands balling into tiny fists.

"Just one, daddy?" the little boy's voice quivered as he raised a brow at his own father. Scorpius' face was a painful imitation of Draco's and Hermione couldn't help but let a bark of laughter escape her.

"Fine, I had two. But you should share Scorpius. You shouldn't even be eating all these sweets on your own anyways — they're not good for you. I don't even know where you get all of them," Draco grumbled as he lifted his chin and glared pointedly at Granger who, completely unbothered by it, met his gaze with a cool smirk on her lips.

Scorpius humphed, his gaze unwavering until Draco dropped the bag of sweets in his arms.

"Didn't look like you were going to share either with the rate at which you were going at those chocolates, Malfoy," Hermione hummed.

"Malfoys don't share, Granger," he intoned smoothly, looking at her beneath his hooded lids. He blinked slowly, "you'll do well to remember that."

Hermione's cheeks heated but she turned away to go back to the living room before he caught her flush. She shook her head, putting her focus back on the little boy babbling in her arms about why he preferred chocolates over candies, ignoring the heavy sensation of eyes on her back.