Over the nine years since the war he had worked very hard at transforming himself and the manor into something to be desired. There was that pesky rumor about him being a bit of a playboy. No witch had been able to tame him yet.

"I'm going to be a father." He told the Draco in the mirror. Slowly the corners of his mouth turned upwards until there was a broad smile occupying the lower half of his face. The sight of his odd facial expression caused him to blush and he quickly turned his face away.

Draco stood still and silent holding his throbbing face, his mouth hung wide open in shock. Hermione stood as tall as she could manage, holding her ground. The two were locked in a mental standoff, both to stubborn to give in and walk away.

Draco stood proudly on the walk outside the Potters’ humble house. His calm demeanor shocked even himself. Protecting what he considered to be most important took on a bigger role when his child became involved.

Three little words can change a life. One stolen moment and the line was crossed indefinitely. It seemed so cliché. Draco had never imagined he would feel the urge to say such a thing to a woman, let alone his complete polar opposite. It was the atmosphere of that evening, it had to be.