Disclaimer: As always, these characters belong to Ms Rowling, I have just... "borrowed" them... not making any money from it, I swear! ;)

The annual Masquerade Ball. Hermione had not wanted to attend, but Ginny had talked her into it. The whole idea of the ball was a night of fun, where you mingled – no one was meant to know who anyone else was, and there were strong spells cast so no one could reveal their true identities. Hermione didn't see the point.

However, here she was. She looked around, hoping against hope she would see a familiar face, though she knew she wouldn't, she didn't even look like herself. Her hair was glamoured, it was a soft flowing light blond, not her normal chestnut colour. Her entire face except for her sensual red lips and bright cinnamon eyes were hidden by a golden mask. She wore a flowing white gown, that hugged her body in all the right places.

When the Ball was well underway, Hermione edged around the dancing couples, smiling politely when someone asked to dance or talked to her. In most cases, she refused. She glanced toward the glass doors leading outside, and headed toward them. They doors led out to a private garden at the back of the complex.

Outside, the air was still slightly damp from the rain earlier that day. Hermione stopped a little outside the door, watching the still form that stood a few feet from her, the tilt of their head showing they were looking at the sky. With slight caution, she went up beside them, and turned her head slightly to the side.

It was a man. His hair was jet black and somewhat spiky, and his ball mask was a gleaming silver. He wore plain but elegant black dress robes. When he noticed there was another presence, he looked at her, smirking.

He was the first to speak. "I'm assuming you don't like the big crowds either then?"

Hermione sighed slightly. "Not really, to be perfectly honest I could think of better ways to be spending my evening".

The stranger next to her laughed. "Well, since we are here..." he smiled at her and extended his hand, "Would you care to dance…?"

Hermione flushed in embarrassment. "All right.." she said, accepting his hand. As she took his hand she felt a slight spark, and wondered to herself if he felt it too.

He spun her around slowly and pulled her body close to his. Her cinnamon eyes met his grey orbs and they just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Softly, very softly his lips brushed across hers, barely touching, and as soon as they had touched they were gone again.

She whimpered softly at the loss of his lips and soon they were back on hers again, more forceful, more longing. Her mouth parted slightly allowing him access as their tongues met and danced together.

Their tongues slowly turned into an intimate dance, the man's body pressed against hers, their lips fused by their desire for a brief moment.

She moaned softly as his lips left hers and trailed down her chin, onto her neck, nipping and sucking softly at the supple skin.

Hermione was backed up unto the wall outside, as he feverishly let his hands roam down her body, while her hands nimbly undid his dress robes, underneath them he was wearing a pair of plain black pants, that were quickly undone and pooled around his ankles. She let her hand brush over his throbbing erection as he growled throatily against her neck.

He looked up and stared into her lust filled eyes, lifting her dress to her waist and discarding her undergarments he entered her swiftly and forcefully. Hermione gasped and arched her back, digging her nails into his shoulders. He groaned and started a slow but steady rhythm, which quickly became fast and uncontrolled.

He felt her climax getting closer and slowed his pace, wanting the moment to last forever. She growled and pushed her hips into his forcibly. He smirked at her, and once again assaulted her lips with her own. She moaned into his lips as her orgasm hit her, her muscles clamping around him. That was all he needed, he threw his head back as the white hot lust hit him, bringing him to his own climax.

For a few moments they just stood there, catching their breath. He slid out of her and they both tidied their clothes, not a word said between them.

He gave her a last gentle kiss on her lips. "Thank you." He said as he pulled away.

She glanced towards the doors as 2 more people entered the garden. She smiled at him softly and walked towards the doors, "Thank you for the dance." She said to him as she disappeared back into the ball.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 9 Months Later - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Draco apparated into the manor and sighed. It had been a long, tedious day at work and he was actually glad to be home, however lonely and miserable he was at home.

He poured himself a large glass of firewhisky and made his way down the hallway, heading for his room in the west wing.

"Congratulations Master Malfoy!" A portrait said to him, smiling down warmly at him. Draco looked at the portrait confused and kept walking. By the time he had reached the end of the hallway and had been congratulated 6 more times, he snapped and looked at the last portrait, which was of his late great-great-great grandfather. "What do you mean, Congratulations? Congratulations for WHAT exactly?"

The portrait looked at him and laughed merrily. "Congratulations for what, son? For the birth of the Malfoy heir, your son of course!"

Draco narrowed his eyes at the portrait. "You are all mistaken, I would know if I had produced an heir!" The portrait chucked at him. "I suggest you check the family tree then, as I'm sure you're in for a shock."

Draco frowned and made his way to the Malfoy Library. There, in the centre of the room, was a ancient parchment that recorded the Malfoy lineage, all the generations of the Malfoy family for the last 1200 years. Draco quickly scrolled to the bottom of the parchment and found his name, his eyes widening in surprise as he followed the new shiny black ink that led downwards from his name and formed another name.

Darius Orion.

The parchment didn't lie. He had a son. Darius. Darius Orion? Draco shook his head. How could he have not known about this? He let his mind wander back the past 8-9 months, trying to figure out who it might have been. Pansy? No, no, he had seen Pansy just 2 weeks ago, and she defiantly wasn't with child. Natasha? No, not her either.

Draco's eyes widened in realisation. The Masquerade Ball! It must have been…. the mystery lady. How could he have been so stupid, no conception charm! And he didn't even know who she was!

Draco swore loudly and threw his glass of firewhisky at the wall. First thing tomorrow morning he was going to go down to the Ministry headquarters and look at all the new birth documents. He would find out who his son was, and who his mystery lady was.