Draco eyed her warily. Obviously he wasn’t the same little shite he’d been in school, nor did he still believe in the blood prejudice he’d learned at his father’s knee. His Muggle-born wife waiting at home was proof enough of that. But he was still intrinsically uneasy around Muggles; the cultural divide between them was vast and Draco had yet to shake his fear that he’d say something wrong and out himself as something else, something other.