Sorry but I couldn't control myself. 
I just had to post the entire chapter. Here is the final chappie of my crappy fic. I'm really, really glad you people like it... Especially as I don't usually like D/Hr, and this is a challenge. I'm not as gifted as many autors but I know I tried my best. 
Thanks so much for your reviews and support! Now...story time!! 
#7 No Worries
One week. Seven days. 168 hours. All heaven.
Hermione had to admit it to herself; she hadn't felt this happy for two, maybe even three years. She had felt isolated and depressed, worried and - in a way - dirty. Dirty for leaving Ron, for not knowing where Harry was, for liking Draco. Now, all that had changed. She couldn't honestly say that she had forgiven Draco for seperating her and the world she had known from eachother. But she loved him, she had to admit it - and with Fauve, her happiness was complete.
She had moved in completely now with Draco; they shared the same bedroom, they ate every meal together, they took long walks outside with Fauve in her pram. They were a little, happy family. Draco had suggested that they use a very large, vacant room for Fauve's nursery; she was growing too old to sleep in her parents' room, and he wanted some privacy for him and Hermione. Hermione agreed, and plans were made for the nursery. Walls were magically knocked down to make the nursery bigger, and plans were made. It only drew Hermione and Draco closer together. They happily stayed up very late and looked over color schemes and toys for Fauve. They decided on a light yellow for the walls, where elephants, giraffes and all sorts of animals were to be painted, too. The room was to be divided in two; one piece of the room was to be Fauve's playroom, where all her toys resided. Three steps led up to the second piece of the room, where her crib and all the other necesarry furnishings were to be. Hermione kept admiring all the things Draco was willing to do for Fauve.
Incidentally, Fauve had started calling Draco her 'dada' every day now. Hermione could hardly do anything about it; she decided to let it go for the mean time, though she knew, deep down, that Fauve would always believe Draco to be her father. The thought didn't disturb her, she only convinced herself that it was natural, being as Draco was the only man in their life.
However, Hermione could often become confused after a very long day, in which Fauve frequently cuddled her 'dada', and she wondered whether she was doing the right thing. Draco noticed this, and tried to convince her that she was.
It was on one of these occasions, where Hermione was walking outside with Fauve and Draco, that she was unusually silent. Fauve was falling asleep in her pram, which Draco was pushing, while glancing at his beloved.
'What is it, Hermione?' he asked quietly. Hermione shook her head, startled, as if just coming out of her reverie.
'Sorry,' she said, 'nothing's wrong. I'm just - I'm just tired, I think.'
Draco walked over to a little, white bench under a willow tree. Sitting down, he patted the place next to him. Hermione took a seat and he put an arm around her.
'I know you better than anyone else, Hermione,' he said, squeezing her shoulder. 'Why don't you just -?'
'But that's it!' erupted Hermione, waving her hands about. 'That's it. You know me better than anyone else. Oh, Draco... I - I... You're gonna hate me for saying this...'
Draco fixed her with a stern eye.
'I could never hate you, Hermione,' he answered, rubbing her back comfortably.
Hermione leaned backwards, her eyes on a sleepy Fauve. Draco was rocking the pram back and forth, trying to make Fauve fall asleep.
'I - oh Merlin, Draco, please don't hate me - I can't remember Ron's voice anymore... Or - or his scent or - Draco, please, stop it, I can't help it - don't look at me that way...'
Draco's eyes were cold and angry, but he nodded and signalled her to continue, sensing that she needed to get this off her chest.
'I'm just... What if this is wrong? What if Fauve deserves to know who her real father was? I'm so afraid of insulting Ron's memory, Draco... I think - I think that by not acknowledging that he was her father, I'm hurting him -'
'He's dead, Hermione,' Draco said quietly.
'Yes, I know... I know... But he's not... Don't you understand? He lives on inside of me - but you're there too,' she added hurriedly, at the look of shock and disdain on Draco's face. 'I had a child with him, for crying out loud... We were almost married...'
She continued to stutter and shake her head, and Draco suddenly understood what insecurity she must feel. Perhaps she felt as if she had betrayed Ron by sleeping with Draco, his archenemy? Thank Merlin she didn't know that he had killed him, then.
'Listen, Hermione,' Draco said, letting go of Fauve's pram and kneeling down beside her. 'I know what you must feel. I know I've been pushing you - perhaps things have been rushed. I shouldn't have done that. But believe me - believe me, you're not insulting Ron's memory. He would've wanted you to feel happy again, even if - if it was with me. He would've wanted Fauve to be happy, Hermione... just like you.' Draco took both of Hermione's hands. 'I'm sorry if I've made you feel insecure or if everything has been rushed. That's all my fault.' He kissed her hands. 'I love you and I don't care about anything else. I don't care, do you hear? I want to be with you and Fauve, always.'
It was like a scene from a movie, Hermione thought, as Draco sat back down on the bench again and kissed her. She couldn't help thinking that what he had said was right, that she should let go of all worries and only think about herself, Draco and Fauve.
They sat on that little, wooden bench for a long time, listening to the spells of the magical carpenters who had come to fix Fauve's bedroom. Fauve would have a new nursery, Hermione was sleeping in Draco's bed and Ron was in heaven.
She didn't need to worry about anything else. Not for the time being.
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Thanks again!
Christy 
