"Of course" Hermione stood and walked with her mother upstairs. When she opened the nursery door she caught the scent of cedar and citrus. And as her mother laid Scorpius in the crib Hermione realized that Draco had been staying in the nursery as well. She could just see that his green quilted housecoat lay neatly across the headboard, slippers set by the wall in the thin beam of light from the hallway. The blazer he had been wearing earlier that day had been folded across the back of the rocking chair but slipped off as Jean bumped into it in the half dark. "I made him rather uncomfortable earlier didn't I?" Jean said in a half whisper as Hermione bent down to pick the jacket up. She dusted it off and laid it carefully on the bed. "He told me last week that people know what we’ve done, because of the war and because of his family, not really who we are, and that they will always judge us by the things we have done rather than who we are." She smoothed her hands across the collar of the jacket. The green suited him. "Everyone either hates him or fawns over him these days. So I think he enjoyed you treating him like the average guy that you'd meet at the grocery store or library." She looked up and saw her mother was watching her from the foot of the bed and blushed slightly. 