The school halls of Hogwarts buzzed with renewed energy after the break. Hermione stood before her classroom, the scent of parchment and chalk grounding her in familiar rhythm. Her legs ached slightly from the week's… adventures with Draco, but the warmth in her chest was stronger than any soreness.
Across the castle, Draco paced the Defence Against the Dark Arts room, his voice firm but light as he instructed the students on wandless deflection spells. A few first-years looked terrified. He smirked. Some things hadn't changed.
They exchanged glances in the hallway during lunch—knowing, gentle smiles that spoke of secrets shared and hearts healed. Hermione leaned into his side for a moment.
"Still sore, Granger?" Draco whispered teasingly in her ear.
She rolled her eyes with a blush. "Some of us actually walked through the week."
Draco's grin was unrepentant. "I carried you halfway, witch."
They parted ways with soft fingers brushing as their classes called.
That Evening: Home, and the Distance Between Them
The manor was dim and quiet when they returned. The lamps glowed in their cozy sitting room, books scattered where Hermione had left them, and Draco's cloak hung lazily on the coat rack. But one thing was different.
Mia wasn't there.
Not sulking, not blasting music in her room. Just… not home.
Hermione checked her messages. "At Harry's. Doing homework, I swear. Then maybe watching a movie with the gang. Don't wait up! 💖"
Draco dropped onto the lounge, undoing his tie. "Third night this week," he said thoughtfully.
Hermione sat beside him, slipping off her heels. "She's growing up. Has a tribe now. That's good… right?"
"It is," Draco replied, wrapping an arm around her. "But I miss her being under our roof. Even if she barely spoke and hogged the biscuits."
Hermione smiled. "She needs her space. We gave her roots… now she's growing wings."
They sat in silence for a while, letting the tick of the enchanted grandfather clock echo.
Later, when Mia floo'd in after midnight, cheeks flushed from laughter, she was surprised to see her parents still awake—waiting in the candlelit sitting room.
"Hey…" she said awkwardly. "Sorry I'm late."
Hermione rose slowly, crossing the room to her daughter. "You're not in trouble, darling."
Draco leaned forward. "We just wanted to check in. Make sure you're okay. Really okay."
Mia looked between them—two people who had endured more than she fully understood. Her smile softened.
"I'm okay. Just… trying to be a teenager before the world decides who I need to be."
Hermione's throat tightened. "We understand that. But never forget—you don't have to figure it all out alone. Or without us."
Mia nodded, and for a brief moment, she looked like the little girl who used to crawl into their bed during thunderstorms.
"I love you both. Even if I pretend not to when Harry's around," she said with a grin.
Draco chuckled. "That's fair. He's always been too loud anyway."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but they all shared a warm hug before Mia disappeared upstairs, her laughter echoing like sunlight in the quiet house.