A/N: Not much to say, except that I hope you enjoy this little family fic! :) Inspiration came from the song 'We Used to be Friends' by The Dandy Warhols. Image by Bombottosa at . .
Much peace and love, Em x
A long time ago they used to be something more than friends, but Hermione Granger hadn't thought of the platinum haired Slytherin in many years. She had been too busy with university and later, adult life to reminisce about their past and to be truthful, she had genuinely put their young dalliances behind her. Well, as much as she ever would be able, she thought bitterly. Nevertheless, it was quite a shock when she literally ran into him on the platform 9 3/4 as she arrived to bid farewell to her eleven year old daughter, Rose.
"Granger," he inclined his head politely, a flicker of recognition sparkling in his ice grey eyes as his gaze racked over her lithe, attractive form. She had gained some weight in the intervening years but Hermione recognised that his glance was blatantly appreciative nonetheless. If this had been ten years ago, she would have blushed self-consciously, but today, as a nearly thirty year old business woman and mother of three, she ignored his teasing expression.
"Malfoy," she smiled warmly, hugging her daughter closely to her side. This gesture diverted his attention, causing him to glance down at the timid, white-blond haired girl clinging to her mother's side. He froze, his eyes focusing in on the little girl and Hermione's slender fingers that run through her straight hair.
"And who is this?" He asked quietly, bending down to the little girls level.
Hermione's breath caught as worry ran threw her veins. She had always irrationally hoped that this day would never come. She had been expecting it for eleven long years, but somehow this crisis had always been averted. But today, September 1st, her luck had been up. Forcing herself to remain calm, she released her hand from her child's hair and slowly said, "Rose say hello to Mr. Malfoy." The child peeked up from the folds of her mother's deep purple, elegant robes. As she peered up at the large, imposing stranger she smiled nervously, her tiny milk teeth visible. Ac crooked smile that had melted many a heart, Hermione thought proudly.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Sir," Rose murmured clearly, offering her hand to shake. A tiny smile flickered over Draco's mouth before he gently grasped her small, delicate fingers in his own enormous, muscular hand.
"The pleasure is all mine Miss Rose," Draco returned, making the little girl giggle. Immediately, she became more at ease with him. Boldly, she removed herself from her mother entirely so as to look at him more closely. As the shadow's left her and he was able to see her more clearly, the wizard gasped audibly. Rose, whose poker-straight, white blond hair had surprised him, shocked him further as he looked into her eyes. The right eye, which had been previously visible was hazel brown exactly like her mother's. But as the shadows left her face, it became evident that she had heterochromia because the newly visible left eye was of the palest grey. His mother would have called it Malfoy grey. A quiver of recognition wracked his mind. This was becoming too much of a coincidence. How could he have fathered a child and not known for so many years? Draco's expression darkened and he looked at Hermione questioningly.
Before he could speak, Rose interrupted his thoughts. "What do you do Mr. Malfoy?" She asked enquiringly. "Are you a merman?" She added innocently, oblivious to the silliness of her question.
The temporary relief Hermione had felt when Rose disrupted Draco's obvious intent was dashed. She knew exactly where Rose was heading with this question and in vein, she attempted to end the conversation. "Now Rose, Mr -"
Uncharacteristically, he laughed. It was deep and hearty, causing his whole body to shake a little. "Now why would you think that?" He uttered, ignoring Hermione entirely as he patted her daughter's arm affectionately. In the few moments of conversation, the child had warmed his cold heart. She was such a sweet - if somewhat strange - little thing that he could not help reacting to her kindly.
"Because Mummy said only mermaids have white hair," she smiled bravely, pointing to his scalp. "Like me!" Both of the adult's breath caught at her innate recognition of their similarities and in that moment, neither knew what they should do. "You see I'm really a mermaid," Rose whispered conspiratorially.
"Of course you are sweetie," Hermione pacified her reassuringly, attempting to clutch her daughter to her side once again. This conversation could not end quickly enough. It had already caused too much trouble for Hermione and all she wanted was to get Rose and herself away from Malfoy. She glanced around, looking for her husband hopelessly. If only she could leave Malfoy behind subtly, she was sure this whole conversation could be forgotten. However, Rose evaded her grasp, too mesmerised by this interesting stranger to concern herself with her mother.
Sensing his curiosity, she continued her lengthy story. "You see my brothers," she groaned, emphasising the word, "bully me for my hair and my eye..." She pointed to her grey eye. "But Mummy says they make me extra special."
"Would you like to know a secret?" Draco said quietly. His voice was so low that even Hermione struggled to hear his words despite edging nearer. Rose nodded vigorously before he continued softly. "Only best people have white hair and grey eyes. People like you and I and...mermaids." The word wrenched from his stomach almost involuntarily. He could not disappoint this gentle, little girl and if she believed in mermaids then he would pretend to as well.
"And Santa!" She exclaimed joyfully, further confusing him. Somewhere in the vague memories he had of Hogwarts, he remembered someone - probably Granger - telling him of some muggle tradition involving a santa, whatever that was. Nevertheless, he nodded in agreement. Hermione smiled down at him, relieved that he had not overridden the explanation she had given her precious, sensitive daughter. The little girl needed all the reassurance she could get as she was unexplainably, a bundle of nerves.
"And-"
"Mione!" A hurried voice called, cutting Draco off and nearly crashing into Granger. Between the chaos and the flash of red hair, he instantly deduced it was Weasley. All pleasant conversation would be over now, he though regretfully. There was so much more he wanted to know. Without glancing downward, and thus remaining oblivious to Draco's presence, Ron continued, "Sorry I lost you! I had to chase after these two monsters!" He wiggled the two, surely eight year old boys he had under each arm affectionately.
They laughed excitedly, shouting "put us down!" as the attempted to break free of their father's firm grasp.
Mid-wiggle, Ron froze, spotting Draco crouched next to his daughter. Wordlessly, their eyes met. "Malfoy," he said icily, placing the rambunctious twins on the ground. Immediately, the lively young boys ran off but Ron was ignorant to their disappearance disappearance as his gaze honed in on his nemesis. Concern furrowed his brow.
"Weasley," Draco replied coldly. Languidly, he straighten himself so as to greet Weasley as an equal. Hogwarts may be over, but the hatred that existed between Malfoys and Weasleys went back generations and could not be so simply overcome. It mattered little to Ron that the Malfoy name was associated with philanthropy rather than Voldermort since the end of the war. Hatred between the families would always exist because it came as naturally to each as breathing.
Hermione interjected before the situation could worsen, "Rose and I bumped into Mr. Malfoy and we were just in the process of apologizing." Although her words were guarded and carefully chosen, Ron still seethed, eyeing the other man with contempt.
Malfoy said nothing because he recognised that it was not his place to interfere in their marriage. Nevertheless, surprise did flood his body as he acknowledged Hermione's pliancy and deference to her husband. She had been so strong at Hogwarts, but in that one action, she had demonstrated the changes time had wrought on her more explicitly than the weight or the clothes or the child. A small part of Malfoy, the part that still considered their time as Head Boy and Girl with reverence, morned for the arrogant, know-it-all girl who had been lost.
Sensing the animosity between the party, Rose intervened. Tugging at her father's burgundy robe sleeve, she quietly said "Daddy, Mr Mal-foy is a nice man. He is a merman you know." As she defended his innocence with child-like honesty, she tugged at her own white-blond hair.
Ron flinched visibly and was unable to meet Draco's eye as he clutched his daughter to his side. Inaudibly he began to walk way. Sensing their imminent departure, Rose glanced up from her father's side happily. Giving him a wide, bright, toothy smile she cried, "goodbye Sir! It was very nice to meet you!" She danced out of her father's arms and ran up to Draco, reaching her arms up to hug him. Instinctively, he picked her small frame up and embraced her warmly and unhurriedly. Something stirred within him, as her little fingers dug into his black robes and her fine hair tickled his whiskered chin. He breathed in her peppermint infused scent deeply, his nostrils filling with it.
"Rose," Ron warned firmly. His hand still outreached for his daughter's return.
Rose squirmed in Draco's arms, wordlessly asking to be put down. Gently he obliged and without further regard, she sprung from his embrace so as to hurry after her father. A pang of hurt teased Draco's heart as he watched the little girl move further and further down the platform, but he forced himself to ignore it. Almost without his notice, Hermione began to follow her family.
However Draco was not about to let her go without an explanation. After an absence of twelve years and the uncanny resemblance between Weasley's daughter and himself, he believed she owed him at least that. He did not grab hold of her, he did not raise her voice, he just quietly enquired, "how old is she?" The answer was rather obvious considering their location and the evident youth of her siblings, but Draco had to know for sure.
Quietly Hermione extricated the single word "eleven" from deep within her chest. She somehow managed to look at him calmly, despite a war of emotions ragging within her soul. She did not feel strong enough to have this conversation, but she must. She had to stay strong for the sake of her family because this one man could destroy everything she had spent so long building. He could ruin everything that she cherished in the entire world. Wordlessly, she lamented ever having run into this man.
Without a care for who maybe eavesdropping, he bluntly stated, "she is mine, isn't she?" The words clawed themselves from his mouth as he tried to remain collected and not allow his anger to surface. "Why did you not tell me?"
Hermione gasped, glancing around herself to see if anyone had overheard his words. Noticing none, she hushed him imploringly. "There have been no tests..."
Her beseeching eyes purely fuelled his rage further. He had every right to have this conversation with Hermione and she was damned if she thought he would remain silent any longer. "Look at her for Gods sake!" He snapped, indicating towards the direction the little girl had gone. "There does not need to be!"
"That colour hair runs on my mother's side too..." She said in vein, her auburn tinged brown locks clustering around her face in betrayal.
"I can see it is so dominant in your family Granger," he said coldly. "Please do not consider me to be as stupid as that snivelling weasel you married." His comment burnt first shame and then anger into Hermione's soul inducing her hazel eyes to flame with fury. If looks could kill, he would surely be dead right now. Draco breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. It had been a long time since he had gotten so infuriated that he had debased himself so. "I am sor-"
But she did not let him finish his apology before she interrupted him harshly, such was the level of her incitement. Her whole body was transformed from caring mother and doting wife to something much more ethereal, otherworldly as she approached him. "That is but one example of why, Malfoy. You-"
Once again they were interrupted, forcing both of them to control their emotions in an instant because this interruption would and could not understand their anger. Once again it was a petite, young girl who disrupted their heated discussion but it was not Rose. This courageous, somewhat pretty young girl had every trademark of a Malfoy; the hair, the eyes, the pale skin, and Hermione immediately recognised her as Draco's daughter despite the ringlets and explicit obsession with pink. Glancing up at her father smilingly, she said in a sing-song voice "Mamma sent me to tell you the train will be going so-on."
"Of course Mia," he replied, knocking Hermione off balance as recognition of the name he used to call her flooded her body. Why had Malfoy named his daughter after her? She looked at the girl closely, taking in her pink dress, floral cardigan and glittering hair slides in an instant. She must only be five or six years old and yet she shared her name. I must have misheard, Hermione told herself reassuringly.
Oblivious to his blunder, Draco picked up his little girl in one swift but gentle motion. Resting her carefully on his hip, he glanced once more at Hermione. "This conversation is not over Granger," he muttered coldly, departing without further fuss or commotion. Despite his explicit desire to sort out exactly what had happened and was going to happen to his daughter, he still had his family to consider and right now it was his duty to bid farewell to his eleven year old son, Scorpious. If I just happen to see Rose again then that will be a welcome bonus, he thought contentedly as he left Hermione standing in the middle of the platform, mouth agape.
Collecting herself in a moment, Hermione rushed off down the platform to greet her friends and say goodbye to her own daughter. She did not know how long this secret would remain private, but she would do everything to protect Rose and the rest of her family from the grasping clutches of Malfoy. Ron glanced at her worriedly as she arrived, placing a reassuring hand on the small of her back. She welcomed his touch and the comfort he brought her. He was a good man, husband and father and she was happy in the choice she had made to spend her life with him. She rested her head on his shoulder, glancing up at the carriage that contained their daughter. Inside sat Rose, safely surrounded by James, Albus and Neville and Luna's children, Cassie and Presidion. Hermione smiled despite the trepidation that was now firmly entrenched in her stomach, she had been extremely lucky in her life. To be surrounded by family and so many friends was all anyone could wish for.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! :)