Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.k. Rowling.

What Lies Beneath

Hermione:

The day was breezy and cool, flowers and trees blossoming all around her. Distantly she could hear children playing and laughing. She leaned forward and put her head into her hands trying to shake off the anxiety that had been plaguing her all day. She had gotten the owl that morning while she was making breakfast for her and her son. It had started out as any other day in her life. She would wake up much too early, take in the time on the small bedside clock and then groan and try to still her nerves. It was safe to say that a lot of witches and wizards had PTSD after the war but she wondered if they all suffered as severely as she did.

She had stayed in bed a little longer hoping she would be able to drift back off. Her eyes had slowly begun to shut but her mind wouldn't let her go back to sleep. There was always nagging racing thoughts going through her head. Mostly she got through it and kept herself together. But today felt different and she wasn't sure why.

"Mummy," she heard him say from the doorway. Yup. That was it. Xavier was awake.

"Come ere love," she said patting the puffy comforter next to her. The small boy wasted no time at all. She heard his little feet pick up speed on the wood floor as he took a leap onto the bed, all of his small limbs stretched wide in midair. He landed hard, even shaking the bedside table as he went, and then crawled energetically up to his mother on all fours before he nuzzled into the crook of her arm.

"I'm hungry," he said simply staring up at her with his vibrant gray eyes. She sighed and rubbed at her own eyes with her free hand taking one last look at the clock. It was 7:30 in the morning. She smiled down at her son and ran her slender fingers through his straight brown hair.

"Lets go," she said. The two of them clambered out of the bed and made their way to the kitchen. Her flat was small but cozy. It was in a two story building that was maybe two blocks from her parent's old home. After the war, she couldn't bring herself to move into the house that she'd grown up in. It felt so empty without them there and although she still owned it, she just couldn't. She had visited it a handful of times towards the end of the war but only for a very particular reason. Seeing as the Death Eaters were aware her parents were dead they had crossed that off their list of places to search. It also appeared empty to anyone who didn't know how to get in. To this day Hermione was the only one who could get past the wards put up. It hadn't always been that way, however.

Xavier shuffled into the kitchen with his coloring book and crayons in hand and sat at the little square table in front of the window as his mother lined up ingredients on the counter with her wand.

"French toast or pancakes?" she asked. She was holding a carton of eggs in her hand when the tap came on the window.

She hadn't been expecting anything that early and she felt the familiar tingle begin in the tips of her fingers as the anxiety started traveling up her arms. She put the eggs down quickly and went to the window, sliding it up so the owl could land on the table in front of Xavier. He smiled as he reached out and stroked the familiar owl who playfully nipped at his fingers.

"Hi Ziggy," he said happily. Ziggy stretched out his silver wings and flapped them a few times. It reminded Hermione of someone waving. He then turned his head almost all the way around to peer at her with his large yellow eyes. It creeped her out when he did that.

Hermione's eyebrows creased as she untied her message from the owls outstretched leg.

"Get Ziggy a treat will you?" she said not taking her eyes off of what was in her hands, that had begun to shake slightly. It had been from Ginny Weasley with a small piece of parchment clipped to it that read:

Mione,

I sent this as soon as I got the paper this morning. I thought you should be the first to know...Seeing as... Well. You know. I'm taking James to Holiday Park this afternoon. I was wondering if you and Xavier would like to join us there around oneish? I was thinking you may want some company. Let me know.

Love From Ginny.

Hermione took a deep breath and stared down at the picture of him. The headline on the Prophet read, "Draco Malfoy's Release." The article that followed stated that his case had finally come to a close and after about roughly five years in Azkaban and only completing less than a fourth of his sentence he would be free. Something about insufficient evidence and that he'd been cleared of several charges. And blah blah blah. Hermione hadn't really cared about the details. It was the fact that he was getting out. She had no doubt it had a lot to do with the fact that the Malfoys could get out of anything really, given enough time. Classic snakes evading the consequences of their actions. Although she knew that the youngest Malfoy hadn't been guilty of everything he'd been charged with, she also knew without a reasonable doubt that he wasn't innocent either. She knew a few things about Draco Malfoy. He was a self preserving, manipulative, sneaky bastard. If it meant he could save his own skin, he would've said or done anything. It didn't matter who got hurt. And when his family was placed on the Dark Lord's shit list he had done just that. The apple didn't rot far from the tree and just like his parents, he had no remorse or loyalties.

Xavier hurried back into the kitchen with a couple of owl biscuits clutched in his small pale fingers and let Ziggy peck them out of his hand as Hermione ripped half a page out of his coloring book and began searching for a writing utensil. It didn't occur to her she could have used a summoning charm to find one but her mind was so frazzled she simply grabbed one of Xavier's crayons and scribbled (literally) a quick response to her best friend. Xavier watched her with mild interest before his eyes wandered over to what his mother was holding in her hand.

"Mummy, who's that man?" he asked leaning forward a little bit. Xavier was going to turn five in October which was still a ways away but the little fellow was curious about absolutely everything around him. It still shocked Hermione how much children comprehended about life. She quickly crumpled the newspaper clipping and pushed it into her lap before muttering a quick 'nobody' to her son.

The morning went by rather quickly. Hermione finished making breakfast and turned on the cartoons for Xavier who sat on the couch sipping his orange juice.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, love," Hermione said. "I'll be right out. Be good and don't spill that," she said pointing at the half full glass of juice.

Xavier nodded, his eyes glazed over with weekend cartoons. She rolled her eyes with a small smile and took off down the hall. When the small boy heard the bathroom door shut he stood and walked back into kitchen. He sifted through the trash can until he found what he was looking for. A crumpled up newspaper clipping. The man's face fascinated him to a degree. He looked mean in all honesty and a little scary as he stared back at Xavier. His light eyes looked hallow, his sharp angular features chiseled and almost too thin. He looked like a ghost. Xavier stared at him for what seemed like a long time wondering why his mother had seemed so flustered and had remained too quiet as they ate. She really hadn't eaten at all. The man blinked every so often and then looked off to the side as if he couldn't be bothered with the camera. Xavier heard the shower turn off and quickly threw the clipping into the waste bin and hurried out of the kitchen, hopping back onto the couch.

"Get ready Xavier. We're meeting your Aunt Ginny and James at the park in a couple of hours and I wanted to stop by the library to pick up that book I've been waiting for before we go," she called from down the hall. She dried her hair off with a wave of her wand and entered her bedroom.

"Kay," was all her son said as he made his own way to his room.

...

"Been waiting long?" Ginny asked. Her son James had found Xavier immediately and the two were already immersed in some type of game they'd invented. Hermione lifted her face out of her hands and sighed, standing so she could hug her best friend. The red headed witch hugged her tight and they stayed that way for a minute or two before they sat back down on the bench. Hermione moved her book to the opposite side of her to make room for Ginny.

"Not too long," Hermione replied. In all honesty, she wasn't quite sure how long she'd been sitting there lost in her thoughts. There was a small silence that fell between the two women as they watched their children play. Sometimes Hermione wished they were still children themselves. Their upbringing had been anything but simple... But it had been simpler times. At least for a little while before the war had reared its' ugly head and taken all of their innocence away from them.

"Harry at work?" Hermione asked trying to break the silence. It was the weekend but she knew he'd been taking on extra hours. The life of an Auror was anything but relaxing. He didn't have a lot of time to himself these days.

"He and Ron went out with George for the afternoon," Ginny said, turning her body so she was facing Hermione. "Either way, I would've come by myself."

Hermione nodded and found that her hands were fidgeting in her lap. Ginny reached over to still them. Hermione looked up and found blue eyes piercing her intently.

"This changes nothing," Ginny said frankly. "Whether he gets out or ended up spending the rest of his life behind bars... It changes absolutely nothing," she repeated again firmly. Hermione took a moment to respond and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat that morning. Of course it didn't. Why would it? He hadn't known the truth before he had been caught and was never told. And really, him being taken into custody had been a small blessing in itself cause it made it so Hermione never had to tell him. Ginny was the only one Hermione had confided in. She had even left the wizarding world before she'd been showing to avoid any unwanted attention. The tabloids always managed to find gossip on the Golden Trio after the war had ended. Everybody wanted to know the latest news about the war heroes. Hermione had wanted none of it. Especially in her condition. So she had left. Yet she found herself wondering how her dirt could possibly be kept swept under the rug. Was she simply going to keep this a secret forever? She thought about that for a moment. She could keep it a secret. Her and Xavier could live out their lives without anyone ever knowing the truth... But what then? What would happen when he went to school? It was unfortunate that although he hadn't gotten the platinum blonde hair from his father, he'd gotten nearly everything else. The pale skin, the strong bone structure...Even the sharp little canine teeth his father had. His hair was even slightly lighter than Hermione's and virtually straight with the same soft consistency as his father. The fact that Hermione was unwed and on her own didn't bode well for her either. The wizarding world tended to pry.

"He can't ever know," Hermione said after what seemed like minutes. "He's not somebody I want in our lives."

"And he doesn't have to know. I haven't told a soul. And honestly what are the chances that you two will even see each other again? It's for both you and your son's protection Hermione," Ginny said fiercly. "Xavier comes first. And sure, Malfoy may have helped put a stop to the war and that's the only reason he's getting out." Hermione looked Ginny straight in the face and the red head could see the questions forming behind her lips, which were pressed together in a thin line. "It's been all over the news," Ginny began. "Malfoy turned in names and hideouts for the remaining unknown Death Eaters. Safe Houses," Ginny scoffed and shifted, crossing her legs with a look of disgust on her face. "He apparently did it because they threatened him. The rumors are that they were going to try to slap some charges on his mother and he spilled. Even if he is out, he's not going to be safe anywhere," Ginny finished with a small laugh that was anything but humorous. "Either way you and Xavier don't need that kind of rubbish in your lives. Malfoy would be safer if he just crawled into a hole in the ground and disappeared forever. That's what he will do, if he's smart."

Even after the Dark Lord's death, the wizarding world wasn't safe. There was still resistance from the remaining Death Eaters. There were still incidents. The animosity didn't die between the bad and the good. Blood purity had still been an issue and although the wizard who had started the whole war was now dead, there were many that still weren't ready to give up their old ways. The Malfoys had caved. Self preservation. But that made them an enemy to everyone, barely tolerated in the wizarding world. And they hadn't done it for the right reasons so that didn't help their case. Hermione had learned that people don't change... It just didn't happen. And just because the most dangerous wizard of all time had been taken out of the equation didn't mean there wouldn't still be a struggle for power. Things had begun to improve but times were still dark. Hermione knew she'd made the right decision to leave and as long as the other Death Eaters still roamed free, her and her son would never be safe. Especially if it ever became known who his father was. It had been a terrible mistake and lapse in judgment. A moment that Hermione could never take back. But what was done, was done. She knew her life had changed forever when she had done the charm on herself and had confirmed her pregnancy. At that point, Malfoy had already been locked away.

"You know Hermione," Ginny went on, watching her best friend chew her lip. "It might be time to tell the others the truth about Xavier," she pressed gently. Hermione shook her head still staring at the floor, but Ginny could see her hands had begun to shake. "They would understand. We're your friends Mione! Your family! Hell, my mother watches him for you when you go to work. You really think that would change anything?"

"I can't." Hermione said. "It wasn't even meant to happen. It just did."

"We all do stupid things sometimes. But I think it's far past the point that you should feel ashamed. Emotions were high in the war. I don't really know what happened, even now... And that's not something you have to share with anyone. That's your personal business. But with his father getting out in a week, a week, Mione, it's time. You two will need extra protection and who could provide that better than Harry and Ron? They would see to it that nothing happens to you or your son. Malfoy is deranged. Please. For me," Ginny pleaded.

This was a serious thing that Hermione hadn't been prepared for.

"Look at your son, Mione," Ginny said motioning to the boys running and laughing. "I don't give a damn where he came from. He's precious. And he's yours and I love him like one of my own. It would kill me if anything happened and you know tensions are still high and your face isn't exactly unknown. Just think about it okay?"

Hermione watched Xavier laughing and smiling, playing in the sand. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"Alright," she said simply. Ginny let out a breath and hugged Hermione once more.

"What do you say we get these boys some lunch?" she asked. Hermione nodded, grateful for the subject change. Ginny had grown accustomed to how little Hermione spoke these days. They had all lost so much during the war and it was still kicking. But she knew Hermione was still Hermione, deep down, and the woman was fierce. They'd all taken lives in their youth. Hermione had become a mother sooner than she planned but that had made her tougher. She knew her best friend would do what she needed to do for her family. Especially when it came to her son.

The women called the boys and walked to a nearby cafe. The day was beautiful, but it had been a long time since Hermione had been able to appreciate the small things. She had a feeling there was a storm coming her way. It was the same gnawing feeling she'd had in the pit of her stomach since she'd woken that morning. Intuition was never wrong.

Draco:

He sat on the cot in his cell with his legs crossed in front of him. The cheap sweats he wore were thin and somewhat dirty. He wore a simple shirt that resembled hospital scrubs with his identification number on the back. There were two letters in front of him that he didn't quite know how to feel about. Azkaban had changed a bit after the war... Perhaps for the better but it still wasn't a place you wanted to spend twenty to forty years of your life in. There were still Dementors that lingered all over the prison that were used to keep the prisoners in line. They took everything from you and when you ended up in Azkaban you didn't have that much to cling to as it was. His father Lucius was here as well but he wasn't allowed to have any contact with him what so ever.

He bit into an apple he'd been given for lunch as he read through his mother's letter one more time. It was the first mail he'd been allowed to receive his entire stay and it was only because he'd be released in a week's time. He had the right to make certain arrangements although he didn't plan to go back to his former residence. He didn't know what he was going to do... But if it was up to him he would never return to that place again.

"You did the right thing..."

Of course Narcissa Malfoy thought he'd done the right thing. He'd saved her arse from the same fate that he and his father had succumbed to. He loved his mother, but she was selfish just like the rest of the Dark Lord's followers. Just like him. Or maybe he was just like them. He looked down at his dark mark and sighed, scratching at it slightly feeling twitchy and irritable as he turned to the second letter. It was from none other than Pansy Parkinson. Of course she would still want him to come stay with her after his release. It didn't matter what he'd done. How many people he'd killed. Who he'd betrayed. He honestly didn't care either. He hadn't put much thought into what was to become of him and found he wasn't going to start now. He figured that death was inevitable any way he saw it and that it was waiting for him, whether he'd been sentenced to life in this hell hole or the next.

He had the option to write them back but didn't know what he would say. It had been so long since he'd talked to anyone outside of this place that he'd become accustomed to not having anyone. He found he didn't miss anyone either. He was actually quite tired of the life he had led and everything that came with it.

"Malfoy! Incoming," someone whispered harshly to his left. He heard it sliding into view before he saw it and he quickly stood and knelt down to pick up the baggy that was full of an off-white substance.

"Took you long enough," he muttered. He lingered next to his bars for a while listening. It seemed that the guards had stepped out to do rounds in the next pod. Just as he was about to sit down and partake of what he'd paid for, a Dementor came whizzing down the corridor and it stopped and hovered outside of his cell. He couldn't help but tense up at the sight of it, knowing what was coming. The damn things always picked the most inopportune times to pop up on someone. Their mouths reminded him of those little bottom feeder fish... perfect o's that just sucked up whatever they came into contact with...whether it be fish shit or food. Or the nasty slime that caked onto the side of an aquarium if you didn't clean it for a while. And in a way that's what they all were in this place. Slime on the side of an aquarium or shit wedged in between a rock and a hard place.

"Get on with it then," Malfoy snapped at it. He wasn't even sure if it could comprehend what he was saying to it. "I know you need your fix too."

The Dementor inclined its head toward him, a gesture that reminded Draco of a southern man tipping his hat, and then that weird intake of breath and Draco went cold. He could hear the screams. It was always the screams. Flashes of green light and her. Her brown eyes came into view, much like they did in his dreams, filled with tears, begging for death. It wasn't him...But he'd never been able to do a damn thing for anyone, unless it was to cause them harm. Until the end. It felt like forever as countless victims passed over his mind's eye. His worst fears, pains, and nightmares. It was all there, like an open book of shame. When it was all over Draco didn't want to feel anything ever again. He sat against the wall shaking, covered in sweat, gasping for air as the Dementor floated away, its appetite sated.

"Fuck," he muttered. He sniffed a little and wiped at his face, looking around his small cell. Somewhere down the corridor he heard someone else begin to scream. Sometimes the other prisoners didn't take the soul sucking so well. Some of them didn't stop screaming for hours afterward. He rolled his eyes and quickly reached for the small baggy in his pocket. It was the corner of someone's sandwich bag or something similar, and had been burned at the edges so it stayed closed. He tore into it and reached under his cot where he found a small straw that he'd cut to be a few inches long. He put the end into the baggy and lifted it to his nose and took a huge snort. It burned to say the least and tasted terrible going down but the effects were simultaneous. He somehow managed to burn the end of the bag and pinch it shut again before his eyesight started to go blurry and the familiar euphoria set in. It was almost like his soul gave a sigh a relief. He stashed the substance in a very private orifice and laid down, throwing one of his arms over his face.

"You feelin' better Malfoy?" the wizard in the cell across from him asked.

"Fuck off," Malfoy murmured.

"Share the wealth," the wizard pressed.

He was already beginning to nod off. He sometimes stopped to wonder what had become of him but found he really didn't care all that much. Would it be different when he got out? Or was it going to just be a different kind of struggle? He wasn't even sure if he was happy about it. Things had changed completely. Most of his friends were dead, and the ones that remained were... Well. Pansy. Or now wanted him dead because of what he had done. His last thoughts drifted right out of his head as he fell asleep.

...

"Malfoy!" somebody was shaking him.

"Mmm," was the only response the guards got and a slight push from Malfoy's arm.

"Mr. Malfoy! Get up! You're being moved!" another voice said.

"I'm fuckin' sleeping," Malfoy muttered into his thin mattress. Nothing was registering at all and didn't begin to until his mattress started to wiggle under him like a magic carpet and tipped him off the edge of his cot. He spilled onto the floor like some limp rag doll and then the cold water hit him. Somebody was flashing a light into his eyes.

"Pretty sure he's high again," the mediwitch said. Draco didn't know it, but they'd been trying to get him up for some time. "Alright Mr. Malfoy, where's the stash at?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said, throwing his arm over his face again. Everything was much too bright and much too loud. And there were too many faces pressing in on him. With a swift movement he was pulled to his feet.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time and then you're getting the rubber glove," the guard said. They were used to this kind of thing at Azkaban. Much like muggle prisons the people were essentially the same. The only difference was that these people were wizards and magic made them much more dangerous. They still hadn't been able to figure out how the contraband was getting in. Anytime they busted one source, a new one would reveal itself. The drug problem was becoming a little ridiculous. When Draco didn't respond at all the guard took another approach.

"Having illegal substances in Azkaban can have time added to your sentence, Mr. Malfoy. You're out of here in a week. You really want to throw that away for what you have up your arse?"

"I don't care," Draco said. In that moment he really didn't. "I've already served my time. You really want me here longer?"

"That's beside the point. We can't let you keep that shit," the guard said. "So how about you just give it up and we'll take you to your holding cell. You'll be there for the remainder of your stay. After that I don't give a shit what happens to you," he growled.

Draco cursed himself. He should've known they were going to move him soon and if he had... they wouldn't have caught him in the state he was. All he knew was he didn't want to give the baggy over. Cause in a bit he'd be sicker than a dog and it would make the last week hell.

"Why don't you use your last week here to detox?" the guard asked reasonably. "Then it's a new start. Maybe a different life."

"Do you know who you're talking to right now?" Draco snapped. He rolled his eyes. What a fucking idiot. The guard sounded like someone else he knew when he talked like that and he didn't want to be reminded of her. Ever again. He could almost hear her now.

"You can start over in a whole new place. Even a whole different country. And never look back."

"Oh yeah? Would you do it?" he'd asked her.

"If there was nothing left for me here," she'd replied.

"Is there?" he'd demanded.

"I-I haven't decided..." her voice trailed off.

Wouldn't that be nice.

Time was up. He was bent forcefully over and he let out a slight cry of pain as he felt the rubber glove enter him roughly and his stash was removed. The guard tossed the baggy into the toilet as he scoffed and Draco heard it flush away. They yanked up his sweats and took him out of his cell.

"Or you could be a junkie the rest of your life. It's your choice," the guard said.

Draco didn't like that title at all. What the hell would his mother say? He felt a small sneer reach his lips. That's why he wasn't going home. He blamed his parents slightly for the way his life turned out. And he knew things were going to get a whole lot more complicated when he was free. Little did he know, he had no idea.

A/N: Sorry it's so short. This is my first fanfiction in quite some time. New account and everything. I'm trying my hand and reviews are welcome. I have so many plans for this story. I hope it goes over well.