Draco had settled himself and Scorpius into the rocking chair in the corner while Hermione dismissed the nurse and Draco took the chance to really look at Dr. Hermione Granger, golden girl, and the brightest witch of the age. She had definitely matured in the three years since he had seen her last. They had spoken briefly at Blaise and Hermione's medical graduation, she of course had been the top graduate and had given a speech to the assembly- something about magical cooperation and letting past hurts heal. It had been the impetus behind him seeking out one of the new wizard therapists that had popped up after the war. Hermione would have made a great Minister of Magic if she had gone into politics. Though she was 26 now she carried herself in a way that the older nurses didn't think to second guess her, even with her standing there in her old comfy pajamas, well worn housecoat and ratty slippers. Her auburn curls were coming loose from a braid that fell over her shoulder. He wanted to take the braid out and run his hands through her hair.