Before you begin reading: This will be a rather slow-paced story, with eventual Draco and Hermione. I'm warning readers now, that it will be at least a few chapters until Draco and Hermione actually interact. I want to establish Draco and the new character before delving into Hermione and her life. Nevertheless, I shan't take offense if you promptly click out of this window. But, if you enjoy seeing Draco (a bit out of character, especially with regards to appearance-I had some fun) with a child, accompanied by a quirky Hermione, I hope you'll stick around.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, but Seraphina and the other brats are mine :)

Salvation

Chapter 1: A Man and His Baby

Wincing as he struggled to get up, Draco wondered at the strain in his back. Where the bloody fuck was he and why did he hurt like he'd been run over by the Hogwarts Express? He nearly shot up off the couch, but caught himself before he woke the small mass slumbering on his chest. They'd fallen asleep watching that ridiculous Muggle tv show with the giant purple and green monstrosity. He hated it but the baby loved it, so who was he to deny her? He placed one large tanned hand on her back as he slowly rose to his feet and made his way to his room. He knew he shouldn't let the baby sleep with him, but he was shattered and some dependence wouldn't kill him. Plus, said baby smelled wonderful and she was so soft. Reaching his bed, he pulled back the covers and set Fi down and strategically placed pillows around her to prevent her from falling. Satisfied, he climbed in next to her and let the memories wash over him…

Dumbledore dying, not by his hand but certainly by his actions…

Snape's angry and gaunt face yelling at him to move…

Mother's horrified expressions when she found father dangling from the manor's top tower as punishment for Draco's weakness…

Pansy pleading for him to help her, to defect, her eyes shining with tears and madness and grief …

Him refusing, fearing for his mother's life…

And then, it was over. No more war, no more groveling at the beck and call of a deranged villain—it was peace.

But then his trials came. Mother was granted house arrest with no Azkaban because she saved Potter. But him? He'd spent six months in Azkaban and was given two options—house arrest for five years or leave Britain for five years. He'd come home from Azkaban, ready to accept a desolate life within the manor's walls for the next five years, wasting away his twenties.

But then he'd seen the basket with the little wailing bundle inside and his world had stopped.

There was only one person he knew that could have had a child this young, a mere 1 month old and it would have been Pansy. Was this the reason for her plead to defect at the turn of the war? And what of the father? Fuck, what of her? Gut churning, Draco had picked up the crying baby, awkwardly patting her back, trying to quiet her down. He saw a note pinned to her blanket:

I tried to tell you, but I didn't know how. Her name is Seraphina Iolanthe. By the time you read this, I will have already passed, finally joining Klaus as I've longed to.

Love her well and remember me.

Love,

PP

He had to read the note several times over before understanding sunk in. Klaus, Pansy's Greek lover since fifth year had been killed for his neutrality during the war. Pansy had been inconsolable, teetering on depression and insanity. And now she was gone and she'd left him with her baby girl.

He held the baby closer and picked up her basket. He needed to pack and arrange a portkey. The manor was no place to raise a baby.

3 days later.

A few days after taking care of the baby, Draco had found himself in a bad situation. What the bloody hell would he feed the baby? He knew of course that babies drank milk but he had also heard the different opinions on breast milk, formula and a mixture. If he were in the Wizarding world, he would've gone to St. Mungo's and requested help.

But in the Muggle world?

So, he did what he always did when he was confused.

He found a fucking book on it.

Which took a while to find and he was so grateful that Pansy had had the foresight to pack enough milk for a week. After reading several books and discovering something called the internet, he was horrified. A fat baby could result from no breastmilk? Immunity? Diarrhea? Pneumonia? More hospital trips?

Draco never would've thought that breasts were so important. He liked them well enough but for fuck's sake, a pair of titties were NOT the same as breasts that provided milk.

Thus, the search for breast milk began. He didn't quite understand how to get breastmilk since Pansy didn't leave him any advice nor did he have a pair of breasts.

So, he did what he learned Muggles often did when they were stumped.

He fucking googled it.

Merlin, he had never been so happy to be in the Muggle world.

They had a milk bank! Mothers could go there if they had a prescription to obtain breastmilk for the babies.

He had found his answer.

Now, it was a simple matter of forging a prescription (he had googled that as well), finding a local milk bank (luckily there were several in France) and disguising himself as a girl.

He had managed the first two but had disregarded the last. He would pose as the father whose wife had died in childbirth. That and a quick confundus charm would deliver the milk straight to him.

He packed a bag with the baby's essentials and went to the nursery he had managed to create by staying up all night. The baby was asleep thankfully so he put her in the Muggle cloth carrier he had purchased and brought an extra blanket just in case. Adjusting the baby's hat, he made his way out of the house and ducked into an alleyway to apparate near the milk bank. He would've walked but he didn't want the baby to get sick. He didn't know how to take care of a sick baby and he had a feeling Google wouldn't be much help on that situation.

He covered Seraphina's ears as they apparated and began patting her back as soon as the apparition was over. He bloody hated apparating and he didn't think a baby would like it either. Draco began walking towards the milk bank, grateful for his ability to speak French. He knew people were looking at him. A big blonde man with a baby slung across his chest. It wasn't very common in France, but he could care less. The baby needed milk and she needed the good kind.

Stopping in front of the milk bank, he held the door open for two women who were walking out. Their babies seemed almost a year old and Draco stomach dropped to his feet. Fuck, how long was a baby supposed to have breastmilk?

Feeling panicky, Draco forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. He'd confound the milk bank provider and just take enough to last him 3 months. He'd come back after that. With a cheery smile on his face, Draco handed the clerk his prescription and took off his shades, turning on the damnable Malfoy charm.

"Hello. My name is Draco and this is my baby. She needs breastmilk." Draco knew he sounded like a dolt, but it was best to be the over concerned, eager father than the cold, indifferent asshole. He'd never get the milk that way.

The receptionist glanced up and raised an inquiring brow. "First time here?" She asked, taking his prescription and handing him a clipboard with a bunch of papers to fill out. Fuck no.

Draco smiled and surreptitiously got out his wand. "Yes ma'am. In fact, the baby is only a month and a few days old. Would you like to see her?" Draco turned Seraphina towards the nurse, which blocked everyone's view of his wand and performed a nonverbal confundus charm.

The receptionist shook her head and gazed at him. "Yes?"

"You were just about to get me a 3 months supply of breastmilk for my baby." Draco prompted.

The nurse smiled and nodded. "Of course. The paperwork?"

Draco swallowed and gave her an innocent look. "You already filed it ma'am."

"Right. Let me go get that milk for you sir."

Ten minutes later, Draco had himself a satisfied baby who was greedily drinking her milk and another 3 months supply of milk.

He rather thought this could work out.

6 months later.

What the fuck had possessed him to do this? He could have very easily sent the baby off to one of the many war orphanages that had sprung up post war.

He sighed.

Then he would've felt abnormally guilty and he had an inkling that Pansy would have found a way to haunt his ass until the end of time.

He rubbed a hand over his stubbly face and stumbled over to the crib that was in his room. He had originally given Seraphina her own nursery but soon realized that it had been a bad idea considering that he spent all his time in there. So, like any rational, sleep deprived twenty one year old male, he had decided to move the baby's crib into his room to save time.

Wrong.

Fi wouldn't stop crying and he didn't know what the fuck to do considering he had already changed and fed her. He picked her up and patted her back, stifling his yawn against a tanned fist. Fi yawned and resumed in her wailing. Draco sighed in exasperation and made his way over to the rocking chair that he had put in the nursery. He hated using this stupid chair (it reminded him of grandmothers and knitting) but Fi loved the movement. He sat down and began rocking, hoping that Fi would calm and go back to sleep. He was so fucking tired, it felt like he hadn't slept for the past 6 months. Which, he supposed, was an exaggeration but it certainly felt like it. Four hours of broken sleep a night didn't qualify as real sleep.

Draco winced as Fi's crying grew louder and he struggled to control his frustration. He had tried nearly everything he knew of to quiet her down and he didn't know what was left. He really wished his mother was still alive—she could help him with situations like these. But, the truth remained that Narcissa was six feet under after she had died in her sleep. Draco couldn't quite believe but he knew that strain of his incarceration and his father's gory murder had set her off. It couldn't be helped so Draco sought not to dwell on it.

Fi's wailing was still at that ear wrenching pitch so placed her precariously on his lap and tugged off his shirt. He had read on one of the baby magazines that skin to skin contact provided comfort and security to babies. Hopefully, this would help her. He picked up Fi and set her against his chest, resuming his rocking. This felt strange but he supposed it was helping considering Fi's wailing had quieted down and she was softly cooing against his chest. She was slobbering all over his chest and she was unbearably warm but she was blessedly quiet.

Draco sighed and dropped a kiss on her forehead. He continued his rocking and waited until Fi's breathing evened out to drop his head back and relax his eyes. He knew he looked like a gaunt, pale man on steroids but he could care less. Raising a baby by himself was fucking hard and they didn't have any fucking manuals on it except those stupid baby and parenting books that bloody worried him more than anything.

Fi shifted and Draco stilled, unwilling to have her piercing cries fill their small cottage again. She was quiet and Draco breathed out a sigh of relief, continuing his rocking and patting her back. He knew they made a strange picture but he could care less. The baby was asleep and that meant he could get some shut eye before she woke him up again at the crack of dawn.

1 year later.

He didn't think it was possible but he did believe he had done it.

He had fucking lost the baby.

Ever since she had gotten the hang of crawling and semi-walking, she disappeared into corners of their cottage that he hadn't even known had existed. But this time, he actually couldn't find her.

"Seraphina?" Draco called out. He knew it was futile. She didn't respond to such a mouthful of a name and she was probably playing with her multitude of toys he had overindulged her in.

Draco jogged the living room and did a quick sweep under the couch. He hadn't thought she'd hide there but it was worth a shot.

He made his way over to his room and stopped at the sight in front of him. There was a distinct lump under his covers that was wriggling and giggling. For the life of him, he couldn't stop the grin that broke out on his face. He had no idea how she managed to get on his bed but this girl was bloody adorable and a nightmare. He strolled over to his bed and managed to get under the covers without startling Fi. She was still giggling like a maniac so he poked her pudgy belly and gave her a soft smile.

"Hey there, baby girl. What are you doing?" Draco knew he wouldn't get a reply but she was the only other human around so he may as well pretend.

She giggled and waved her little fist in his face. He planted a kiss on her fist and tugged her into his lap.

"You little brat! I've been looking for you everywhere. Pretty soon, I'm going to buy a leash so I don't lose you." Draco said, tweaking her nose.

Fi gave him a gummy smile and squirmed in his lap, struggling to get free. She didn't seem daunted by being under the covers with no obvious escape, but Draco pulled the covers half way up anyways. No point in scaring the girl prematurely.

Draco glanced at his watch and scrambled off the bed to get Fi's milk. He had been pretty good with her schedule so far and he didn't want to fuck it up. The books had said that it was best to feed the baby before it was really hungry and wailing and to anticipate its feeding time by timing it every day. Based of Fi's sudden fussing, it was near feeding time. He strode to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle from the fridge and waved his wand to warm it up. He tested it on his palm and walked back over to his room when he heard the beginnings of Fi's crying. He shook the bottle and reached for Fi as her little hands extended towards him.

"Here you are, Fi." Draco settled her in the crook of his arm and gave her the bottle. Her little arms came around to hold the bottle but Draco kept a light hand on the back to make sure she didn't drown herself in milk.

Merlin, Draco thought. He didn't quite think he would ever get accustomed to how tiny Fi was. She was about the length of his forearm, balancing perfectly on it. Her big green eyes stuck out on her cherubic face and her crazy curls bobbed around her face. She was a smashing image of Pansy and her Greek lover, had they lived. She drank from the bottle greedily, looking at him and he stroked a big finger down her pale cheek.

Fi blinked rapidly in reaction and Draco smiled. "Drink up, kid. After this, we're moving on to bigger and better things." He paused, mentally wincing at her upcoming reaction. "Bathtime."

2 years later.

Draco woke to the sound of Fi 's wailing. After two years of caring for her, he still wasn't used to her crying—she sounded like a banshee. He turned over and reached for her, placing her on his chest, hoping she'd settle down. Fi let out a soft sigh and turned her face into his neck.

"Fi Sweep more." Fi still hadn't gotten the hang of the "l" sound, clearly.

As much as he wanted to deny it, the girl tugged at his heartstrings and made him go all mushy inside. Draco ignored it and focused on Fi 's little body. He knew she wasn't sleeping, her little green eyes were staring at him, wide and innocent. He curled a hand in her hair, smoothing out the wild curls she had clearly gotten from her father—Pansy's hair had been so straight, she couldn't even put hairclips in it. Running his hand through her hair, he wondered if babies could fully understand their surroundings. Oh, he'd read what felt like every fucking book on parenting and child rearing, both Muggle and Wizarding , and he still wasn't satisfied. He wanted to tell Fi that he wasn't her father, that there was no blood relationship between them. He didn't want her confused or worse, angry, because she'd been cheated of normalcy.

He was trying, honestly. But he was a twenty three year old taking care of a two year old and he didn't fucking speak baby. Worse, they were alone. Just him and this baby girl who'd been thrust into his protection. Draco wondered if she knew she was a baby living with him in temporary exile in a small cottage in France.

Probably not.

The cottage was small, but it was home and he loved it. He had made every fucking surface, corner, and hole child proof to make sure Fi didn't accidently electrocute herself or bash her head in. He had never thought he would ever reside in a house so small, but it met his needs and was perfect for Fi . He didn't want her lost in a manor or falling down stairs. Small was safe and cozy. When she got older, they could get something bigger—He still had over half the Malfoy fortune, even after war reparations.

The Malfoy fortune was plentiful, enough to last any future generation ten times over, if invested correcty. Which, he supposed, was exactly what he'd been doing for the past two years. He'd been groomed for his role as head of the Malfoy family and fortune, and even though he wasn't in Britain, he still invested and controlled the Malfoy fortune from France. He'd invested in the Muggle stock market, making so much money off of computer and software technology that he was compelled to buy a laptop, just to see what the fuss was about. His money had been well spent. Besides the Muggle world, the Wizarding world benefited greatly from his investments. He doubted that Madam Rosmerta was aware that he'd pulled her out of financial ruin and paid for necessary renovations. Or that whoever the fuck ran the Leaky Cauldron now knew that he had lowered the rent on the building and put in extra investment money. But, he was quite sure that Headmistress McGonagall was aware that he had funded over half of the rebuilding of Hogwarts. He may not have been there, but from his cell in Azkaban, he had managed to get into contact with his solicitor to make the funds available to the Headmistress and the Board of Governors. He was sure McGonagall thought it was guilt, but she was wrong. Hogwarts was home, not only to him but to others as well. He had helped destroy it, it was only fair that he righted what he had wronged.

The baby cooed and slammed her little fist on his chest, then his chin. He glared at her, raising a brow, unimpressed. Draco knew that she was either hungry or had a dirty diaper. Based off the stink rising in the room, he knew it was the latter. Muttering under his breath as he got out of bed, he sent her an ineffectual glare.

"For something so small and cute, you sure do shit up a storm." He mumbled, wincing as he cursed in front of the baby. No matter that she had no concept of those words yet.

He carried Fi to her little nursery, marveling at how much brighter her room was then his. Probably because he had gone overboard and brought in a canopy style crib, painted the walls with a pale pink that slowly merged into red and magicked twinkling stars and flying dragons that blew bubbles everywhere.

No one could accuse him of not giving Fi his best.

Draco set her on the built in changing table, waving his hand around to get rid of the smell. Merlin, this girl was a stinker. He grabbed a fresh diaper, some baby powder, wipes, and duct tape (just in case), and set about cleaning up Fi 's mess.

She cooed and kicked all the while, mumbling general baby nonsense, not minding that Draco was muttering under his breath and grumbling at her dirty diaper. Draco knew she couldn't control her bowel movements, but honestly, show him someone who enjoyed changing a dirty diaper and he'd recommend them to Janus Thickney Ward at St. Mungo's. He was nearly done anyways, so he pushed those thoughts away and focused on the little girl in front of him. Her brown curls were a crazy mass on her head and her little green eyes stood out against her pale skin. Draco liked that she had such pale skin—they had at least one physical feature in common, until he got her tanned under the sun. He attached the left side of the diaper and patted her rounded belly before returning the materials to the cupboard and vanishing her dirty diaper.

He reached for her as she began to fuss and headed to the kitchen. "You hungry, baby girl?" He paused as if waiting for a response, then continued on. "Damn well better be. I'm starved and I just ruined your eating schedule by not getting up earlier." Draco maneuvered his way around the kitchen, with Fi on his hip, her little fist curled into his blonde hair that now reached his shoulders. He warmed a bottle of milk for Fi with his wand, hoping it would be the right temperature. He tested it on his finger, satisfied, and sat down to feed Fi . She gurgled and squealed "milk!" before accepting the bottle.

This was his favorite part, not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.

He loved feeding Fi , watching her eyes staring back at him, comforted and safe in his arms. He knew they made a bizarre picture. Draco was tall, broad shouldered, and muscled, whilst little Fi was tiny, curly haired and so soft compared to his nearly brawny frame. It didn't help that he had the dark mark displayed on his forearm and another handful of tattoos on the rest of his body. In short, he looked like an ex-convict and she a little angel. Both of which, Draco knew, were true.

It didn't matter, Draco thought. I'm all she has left, and she's all I have left—and it was enough.