Better Ridiculous Than Boring (Drabbles)

Hermione was struggling not to burst into tears. She was getting strange looks from everyone she passed, but she had to get down to the audience before the show started to make sure she had actually seen what she thought she had. Parents and family members were still mingling, but she usually just sat at her piano, considering there had never been anyone to mingle with before. 

Nobody had ever come to one of Rose’s shows. Harry was too busy, Ginny was too pregnant, Ron was too far up his own arse. Taking a glance out at the audience earlier, as she was ensuring she had all her sheet music ready, Hermione had thought she’d seen two familiar faces. As she opened the door and went out into the main hall, she looked around again, wondering if she’d imagined it. Somebody called her name, her surname to be specific, and she grinned as she spotted him.

“I didn’t know you were coming? I didn’t know you even knew about this.” She said as Draco Malfoy pulled her into a hug. Narcissa Malfoy stood next to him, a small smile on her face. 

“We were invited.” He said, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a piece of card covered in glitter and illegible scrawl, as well as a creased flyer for the showcase. She laughed, slightly embarrassed. 

“Gods, I’m sorry. I knew teaching Rose to send owls would be a mistake.” She replied, feeling her face go red. 

“Oh don’t be silly, Hermione. Of course we want to see the show. I’ve always loved ballet.” Narcissa replied, reaching for her hand and squeezing lightly. 

“Mother has spoken of little else since we received this yesterday.” Malfoy smirked as he leant into Hermione, earning himself a swat on the arm from his mother. “I’ve been doing my best not to be offended that you hadn’t mentioned it, though.” 

She looked at both of them and struggled to find the words to explain. “I…um. Nobody else has wanted to come before so I just didn’t think to ask.” She trailed off, fidgeting with her hands. 

“Not even Weasley?” Malfoy asked immediately, face darkening as he frowned. Hermione shrugged, having come to terms with how absent Rose’s father was years ago. 

“It’s not really his thing.” She said, and he huffed, clenching his jaw. Narcissa placed a hand on his arm as she smiled sadly at Hermione. 

“Well, you have two excited audience members here now. You know we adore Rose, dear.” 

“I know. Thank you.” Hermione whispered. 

Malfoy still looked vaguely annoyed on her behalf, but he dragged her into another hug all the same as people began to take their seats. “Break a leg, Granger.” He said in her ear. She pulled back and smiled up at him. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” She replied. He nodded, as if it was nothing. As if there was nowhere else he’d rather be. She sniffed and tried to breathe normally as she made her way back to her piano, preparing for the start of the show. 

Becoming a mother at 20 hadn’t really been in Hermione’s plans, but she’d been delighted with the news all the same, as had Ron at the time. Things had gone downhill slowly, so slowly that she hadn’t noticed until they were at breaking point. The wedding came and went, as did Rose’s first and then second birthday, and Hermione barely came up for air, insisting on going back to work as soon as she could. She knew the path she was on, exactly where she was heading. Yes, Rose was an unexpected surprise, but it wouldn’t stop her from being the youngest department head in Ministry history. Everything had been fine, if one ignored the way Ron rarely came home, or the way he slept in the spare room on the days that he did. The way he barely spoke to Rose, barely even looked at her. 

He asked for a divorce the day before Rose’s fifth birthday. He’d gotten nasty about money, seeing as most of their savings had come from Hermione but he still wanted to keep them, and that had been the end of their friendship too. He hadn’t asked for contact with Rose, and Hermione hadn’t offered it. Her daughter deserved better than a man who made it very clear that he didn’t want her. Ron had even accused Hermione of cheating, because Rose had deep chocolate curls rather than the typical Weasley ginger. That had been the final nail in the coffin, as far as Hermione was concerned. 

She had ended up quitting her job at the Ministry. Seeing Ron, and even Harry, every day hadn’t been helping her mental state. Harry had tried to be there for both of them, but his family had always been the Weasleys, and when battle lines were drawn, he knew where he stood. She took an easy job in the new apothecary in Diagon Alley, brewing potions in the back where nobody saw her and she didn’t have to talk. That plan had lasted her two weeks, before she became aware of a few things. Firstly, that the apothecary was owned by Blaise Zabini, and secondly that it also employed one Draco Malfoy. On the first day that they’d worked the same shift, it had been soul-crushingly awkward. The second day, it was even worse. The third day, though, he’d spoken to her at lunch. A dull, meaningless conversation that meant nothing and everything, and with that, they became friends. It was simple. They knew the people they had been weren’t the people they were now, and that was enough for them.

A fundamental fact that further drew her to the man was that Malfoy adored her daughter. She had never thought that he, of all people, would be good with kids, but she’d never seen anyone so natural. Rose adored him just as much in return, and Hermione supposed that was why she’d asked him and Narcissa to watch her ballet recital. Rose had known that all she had to do was ask and he’d be there, no questions asked. That was the reason Hermione was crying as she sat at her piano, the girls and boys appearing, ready to take to the stage. Her daughter had been let down by so many people, and yet none of it bothered her all that much because she knew she had Malfoy. What exactly he was to her, and what exactly he was to Hermione, was still to be determined, but for now? For now, Hermione was more than content with their situation. 

Her face hurt from smiling so much. Hermione couldn’t remember the last time that had been a real problem for her. Her piano was hidden in the wings, to let the children shine, and she’d beamed at her daughter for the entire show. Rose had had the biggest smile on her face ever since she’d walked out and seen the audience, from the moment she’d realised that, at last, she had people there to cheer her on. Her eyes had sparkled in the lights, and Hermione had felt overwhelming gratitude for the universe finally giving her daughter something good. 

She nearly fell over when she walked out to wave to the audience, to bow and receive applause as the show organiser, Kate, insisted upon. She nearly fell over because not only were Malfoy and Narcissa there, clapping loudly from their seats, but her other new friends were too. Zabini, his girlfriend Padma Patil, Theo Nott, and Pansy Parkinson flanked the Malfoys, and were also part of the standing ovation. She glanced at Rose, who was grinning widely, and finally gave up on trying to hold back her tears. 

Malfoy had Rose on his hip as he and Nott spoke to a group of other parents who had come to see the show. It looked as natural as breathing for him, to take on that role for her. 

“Granger, you can’t start crying again, you’ll wrinkle prematurely.” Parkinson smirked, appearing at her shoulder. 

Hermione wiped away her tears and took a deep breath, throwing her shoulders back. “I’ll stop. I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She grinned, nudging her shoulder gently. “You should have said something about this. You know we’d have been here sooner.” 

“Having people I can actually rely on is going to take some getting used to, I think. I’m sorry.” 

“Gods, don’t apologise for other people being awful to you, that isn’t your fault. You’ve raised the most brilliant little sprog, even I like being around her. You can hardly tell she’s half Weasley.” 

Hermione huffed out a laugh. “Rose loves seeing you all. Being at the Burrow was…loud. I’m not sure either of us ever fit in there.” 

“Ugh, I can’t begin to imagine.” Parkinson grimaced. “But that’s in the past now, Granger. You both have your pick of manors to run around in. I imagine Draco will be willing to fight for your particular attention, though.” She threw Hermione a mischievous grin, before looking at Malfoy and Rose significantly. Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle.

“You think so?” She asked, somewhat nervously. Parkinson sighed heavily. 

“I don’t think, I know. Salazar, the whole room knows.” She replied. “How about I distract the kid and you can put us all out of our collective misery? I need to score some points, I’m not having her prefer Patil over me. I will be her favourite auntie.” With that, Parkinson strode off across the room, leaving a vaguely bewildered Hermione in her wake. 

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, her heart racing and her mind spiraling. Parkinson’s words echoed in her head, and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing over at Malfoy and Rose again. Rose was animatedly chatting away, her small hands gesturing excitedly as Malfoy nodded along, his expression soft and attentive. He looked right, somehow. As though he belonged in that moment, with Rose on his hip and that subtle, protective stance he always seemed to take when he was near her.

Parkinson’s teasing hadn’t exactly come out of nowhere. She had noticed, of course, how Malfoy always made himself available when Rose needed anything, how he never hesitated to make them both feel important. Make them feel seen. But she had convinced herself that it was just friendship. A surprising, unexpectedly wonderful friendship, but a friendship nonetheless. Standing there, though, watching him and seeing what Parkinson had seen - what everyone else seemed to see - it hit her like the knightbus. It was more than friendship. At least, it could be. Arguably, it already was.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Rose’s delighted squeal as Parkinson swept in and scooped her up, spinning her dramatically. Malfoy watched the interaction with a small, bemused smile before his gaze flicked over to Hermione. When their eyes met, his smile deepened, warm and unguarded. It made her breath catch.

"Granger." He called, tilting his head in invitation. "Come and rescue me. Theo’s trying to convince me that Rose should take up fencing instead of ballet."

Hermione laughed softly, crossing the room to join them. "Fencing?" She asked, raising an unconvinced eyebrow.

"Don’t knock it till you try it, Granger." Nott replied smoothly, a roguish grin on his face. "Besides, she’s already got the perfect balance. A natural, I’d bet."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "She’s a ballerina, mate. Let her stick with something she actually loves."

Hermione smiled at their banter, her nerves settling slightly as the familiar warmth of her new circle of friends surrounded her. Rose was now fully enthralled by Parkinson, who was dramatically declaring herself the ‘coolest and most qualified auntie’. Hermione shook her head fondly before turning to Malfoy.

"Thank you." She said softly.

He frowned, confused. "For what?"

"For being here. For Rose. For… everything."

His expression softened again, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just for her. "You never have to thank me for that. She’s brilliant, Granger. Just like her mum."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat, but before she could respond, Rose wriggled out of Parkinson’s grasp and launched herself at Malfoy, demanding to be held again.

"I want to go home with you, Uncle Draco!" Rose announced loudly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Everyone nearby froze, and Hermione felt her breath hitch. Malfoy, for his part, didn’t look the least bit flustered. Instead, he grinned at Rose, his grey eyes bright.

"Well, I suppose we can make that happen." He said lightly, glancing at Hermione. "What do you think, Granger? Should we have a sleepover at Malfoy Manor?"

Hermione blinked, caught off guard. "I… I don’t think that’s…"

Rose’s lip quivered dramatically. "Please, Mummy? Please, please, please!"

Malfoy gave Hermione an exaggerated shrug, his smile playful. "I promise you’d both be welcome. And returned home in one piece. Probably.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, the tension melting away. "Alright, fine. But only if you promise to help me make sure she actually sleeps. And don’t let her convince you to eat ice cream for dinner."

Rose cheered, and Malfoy’s grin widened. "Deal."

As the group began to disperse, with plans being made and laughter filling the room, Hermione found herself lingering behind. She watched Malfoy and Rose, their easy bond evident in every shared smile and laugh, and felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years - hope.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new. Something better. Something she and Rose had always deserved.