After dinner, Hermione bathed Bea, sang her a song and read her a story, and settled her in her crib.Draco always came in to kiss Bea and turn out the light. "Dad and Mama love you very much."I like Dad," Hermione whispered the first time she heard him say it. "It suits you. She still might say Dada first, though."I like Mama," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the dark room. "Let me show you how much. Maybe in my room."His bed was the comfier of the two, so they often ended up in it together. Sometimes he'd massage her feet while she explained recent legislation. Other times, she rewarded him for all his hard work that day, her entire body buzzing when he lifted his hips and let her pull his trousers off.Draco was a quiet lover. He said everything with his hands. He stroked her jaw as she took him in her mouth. When he wrapped her hair around his fist, just enough to thrill her, while she licked and sucked him to completion, she knew what he meant.And afterwards, when he returned the favor, she thought maybe he was working up to say something very big indeed. Their romance was still so new, and although Hermione told herself they were in no rush to do more than this, she wanted him inside her. But Draco didn't push for more, and she didn't push him.Most nights, she fell asleep curled against him, her head on his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist. Safe, warm, sated.She hadn't mentioned Draco to Rolf yet, or anyone outside her inner circle, since she wasn't sure how the news would go over. That, and she'd had one too many run-ins with a certain unregistered Animagus. Who knew how many other flies on walls were lurking about?Fortunately, the Daily Prophet seemed less and less interested in Hermione's comings and goings as the years went by. But a baby and a live-in boyfriend? That sort of gossip would sell like cauldron cakes.A big election was coming up, so the paper had plenty of fodder for the masses at the moment. But if rumors cropped up, they might start sending reporters sniffing around, and that was the last thing Hermione wanted.When she brought her concerns to Draco, he reassured her.They lay in his bed under freshly-washed sheets scented with lavender. Candles flickered on Draco's dresser, casting the whole room in a soft glow. Gentle rain, soon to be sleet, pattered at the windows, providing the perfect amount of white noise. Hermione had always liked the rain. She anticipated spring's arrival like that of a friend returning from holiday; eager to learn what treasures the earth had to offer."Your wards are strong, as is the Malfoy family magic my mother cast to surround the house. But I'd feel better if we consulted someone with public relations experience."Draco hovered his body over hers, slipping her camisole from her shoulder, nibbling at the soft skin there. He was bare-chested, and Hermione couldn't keep herself from running her hands across his defined muscles. She could hardly focus as she agreed; it would be sensible to be prepared if word somehow got out before they were ready."Mm, I love distracting you," he murmured, moving lower and tracing one nipple with his tongue, then the other.She tugged at his hair to bring him face to face with her again. "Hold on. Do we know anyone who could help?"We do, actually. They'll be here tomorrow."