Draco Malfoy sat in his private library in his manor. It was the 31st of August – almost 13 years since the fall of Voldemort. It was late at night and he was massaging his temples and sighing. He had had a long day of work and with all the chaos of preparing his son Scorpius for Hogwarts the next day, he was just tired. He was about to head off for bed when he noticed something new on his desk. Being raised to be prim and proper and always tidy, he was irked at this new object he found haphazardly laid on his table. It was a package – a thick rectangular one that was addressed to him. Curious as to who it was from, what it was and when, during the chaos of the day, did it arrive, he opened it.

He found a thick notebook with a simple red leather cover. It seemed to have been old since it looked used and its sides were almost torn. Curious again as to what it contained and to whom it was from, he unbound the strings that tied it together. He gasped at the all-too-familiar handwriting and started reading.

Dear Draco,

It's been almost a month and 3 weeks since you left. Left. Is it really leaving if we both knew it was bound to happen? Is it really leaving if we tried as hard as we can to prepare for it? That I'm not so sure. Maybe the better way to say it is that it's been almost a month and 3 weeks since the end of you and me. I've been pathetic, really. I've cried buckets of tears, I barely ate for weeks and I floated about my life as if not having any purpose for living.

Ginny, Harry and Ron have tried to pry me off my misery. Once, they even went as far as setting me up on a date. I can't say it ended well as I just pathetically bawled at my date on how unfair life and love is. You must be laughing now. It was extremely embarrassing, I can tell you that. I think I scared the man into being set-up again.

I am writing in this notebook for a very good reason – because I want to stop being pathetic. I don't know if I will ever fully get over you but I know that I would want to. So I have decided to write to you of how I'll move on with my life. I know it sounds counter-productive but I just… I need to find a way to "talk" to you until I find that I don't have to. Does that make sense?

It's not like I'll ever send this. I'll just have to pretend that I really am talking to you. I miss you, Draco – every minute of every day. But I will move forward with my life. I know I will. And it starts today.

Hermione

Dear Draco,

I haven't written to you in 2 weeks. These past 2 weeks have been the most pivotal 2 weeks of my life. I don't know how else to start but from the start.

You're married now. To her. To that woman I still envy with all my heart even if I know you still don't love her and you may never will. I still envy that you are hers. I saw your photo in the paper. You looked so handsome but your eyes were missing its twinkle. I felt smug knowing that I could put a real smile on your face. And for a while I cheered up. And then I realized that you 2 will be together until death do you part. And in that time, you might even fall in love with her. I cried for 3 days straight after that realization.

A week after I saw your wedding in the paper, I was sick every day. I thought I was just tired from barely eating and from crying my heart out. I thought it was from a broken heart. Until Ginny mentioned something that could possibly be the cause for my sickness. How else do I say this, Draco? How else do I say it than just to say it?

I'm pregnant, Draco.

I'm pregnant with your child.

Hermione

Draco Malfoy was long past sleepy now. His headache was gone and his sore muscles seemed to have been forgotten. His fingers were shaking as he read that last sentence over and over and over again. He had to keep reading. He had to know. He had to know what happened. He had to know if she kept it. He had to know why she never told him. He had so many questions now, too many questions. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and continued.

Dear Draco,

I'm around my 48 weeks now. I am emotional and hungry all the time. Ginny, Harry and Ron have been taking good care of me. You probably heard or read about it but Ginny and Harry got married. I had to fit my belly into her maid of honor dress but it was a beautiful celebration. I cried again. I'm such a sap, it's becoming quite hilarious.

So, I told my parents and the Weasleys about our baby a month ago. They cried. I cried. They were happy for me. And they were all very supportive, I couldn't ask for anything more. They all kept convincing me to tell you. And for a while I have been playing with the thought. And after much deliberating with myself, I have decided. I won't.

I know you'll probably get angry at me and yell at me when you find out. But I just… can't for so many reasons that are quite obvious. Your wife will probably kill you. Your father WILL murder you and me and the baby. Reporters, mainly Rita Skeeter will never leave us alone. And it may just ruin you – you who have worked yourself off for years to be known as someone respectable. I could never do that to you.

But mainly the real reason I don't want to is because I'm afraid. If I tell you and you don't give a care, I know it'll ruin me again. If I tell you and you just walk away, I may not be strong enough this time around. I have already started putting myself together, I know it's selfish but I don't think I'll be whole again if I get torn apart. If I tell you and you do decide to stay with me, I could never keep you from what I know is better for you. As much as it pains me to admit, you and her… you and Astoria make sense. It's easier this way.

So I won't be telling you. At least not any time soon.

I'm keeping our baby, Draco. I am raising her. Not alone, because I will always have my friends. But I have decided. I'm raising our baby without you.

Hermione

Draco kept reading. It was way past midnight now. He read about her pregnancy pains. He read about Ron getting married to Luna. He read about the flat she bought close to a park. He read about her new job as a lawyer of the ministry. He read about how she had to tell everyone that she had a muggle lover who impregnated her as cover up for her pregnancy. He remembered reading about that story in the tabloids years back and remembered how hurt he was and how happy he was for her at the same time. He read that she didn't want to learn of the baby's sex until she gave birth. She was afraid of how the baby would look like. She was afraid that the child would remind her so much of Draco and that it might hurt her still. He choked up when he read one specific letter.

Dear Draco,

It's the 16th of June.

It's a girl.

Hermione

Dear Draco,

I was too exhausted to write that night. She was such a stubborn child, refusing to come out even if it was time and I just had to spend all my energy to bring her into this world. Harry joked that she really was a product of a Malfoy and a Granger, being as stubborn as she was at a very early age. I brought her home today and put her in her crib. She sleeps by the window with the view of the park. I haven't stopped looking at her.

I'm sure you'd want to know how she looks like. Well Draco, she's beautiful. I know that all parents must probably say that about their child but I'm not the only one who thinks so. Everyone who sees her says so, too. Draco, it's scary. Not in the ghost and undead sort of scary but in an unbelievably scary way. She has your eyes – grey and silver. Her hair is blonde, Draco, except that it looks a bit curly. I can't really tell yet because she has so little of it but what little she has is a bit curly. She has your nose too, but my lips.

She's really beautiful, Draco, and my fear before that seeing her might hurt me, well, it was quite the opposite. I love that she reminds me of you so much. At least I know that part of you will always be hers.

I named her Cassiopeia, after the constellation.

Hermione

Draco flipped the page and was even more baffled. There was a photo of her. His child: Cassiopeia. She really was beautiful. She was wrapped in a white blanket and was fast asleep. He could see the rise and fall of his chest through the picture. He stared at it for a good 10 minutes, still in disbelief.

The next letters were all about Cassiopeia. He read about her laughing for the first time, her favorite song, favorite toy and favorite story. He read about her first step, her first tooth and her first word – "burp". He laughed when he read that her first real sentence was, "Mama, read a book." He read about her first birthday, first Christmas and first trip to the beach. He found that Cassiopeia, or Cassie, loved the feeling of sand in between her toes. He found that Hermione tried to date for a while but was too exhausted having to deal with men and Cassie all at the same time. The most heartbreaking letter to date was dated Christmas, when Cassie was 5.

Dear Draco,

The day finally came. The other night, while putting Cassie to bed, it happened.

She uttered the words I've been dreading to hear since I gave birth: "Momma, don't I have a daddy?"

I didn't know what to say. I knew that this day would eventually come. I just didn't think it would come so soon. I finally told her the answer I've been practicing since the thought occurred to me. I told her that she did have a daddy and that her daddy has so many things that he needed to do right now and he can't be with us. I told her that you loved her and that some day, she would get to be with her daddy but that right now, I had to be both her mommy and daddy first.

She cried, Draco. She cried because she always sees Lily and Rose (Harry's and Ron's daughters) being held in their daddies' arms. She wants a daddy, Draco. I don't know what to do and it tears me apart. As much as Harry and Ron try to fill the void, I know that she will always want her own. I feel so selfish keeping her father away from him and keeping her away from you. I made this decision a long time ago and I know I can't turn back now. I held her all night until she eventually fell asleep. I promised her, Draco, that one day, she'll meet her daddy. I'm just afraid her daddy might not want her.

Every Christmas Eve, Cassie and I have this tradition. Right before midnight, I write our wishes on a piece of paper and stuff it in our stocking. Last year and a few years ago, her wishes were always toys and books. This year however, her wish was plain and simple – "I wish for my daddy."

Merry Christmas, Draco. I hope you and your family have a wonderful one.

Hermione

Draco never stopped reading. He read everything about Cassie and felt like he knew her already. He would read about her laughter, her tears, her pain and her joys and he felt like he was there. He looked intently at the pictures Hermione attached. He thought Cassie was extremely beautiful and brilliant. She loved to read (no surprises there) and loved to fly (big surprise there). He read about Harry and Ron giving her flying lessons at the age of 7. He read about the time she fell off the broom and that Hermione almost killed her 2 best friends because of it. He read about Cassie going to muggle school. He read about Cassie's first sign of magic – sending a handful of bees towards Ron's face when she was being laughed at – and was thrilled. Hermione's letters grew less and less as Cassie grew up. She was now just writing about the important moments in their lives. But she never missed writing about Christmas and Cassie's wishes. It was 6:10 AM when he stumbled upon the last letter.

Dear Draco,

I'll keep this short.

It's Christmas Eve again. It's 5 years after she asked me that dreaded question and she still wishes for the same thing – "I wish for my daddy."

She's more grown-up about facing this and understands better now. I told her our story but kept your name out. She's curious, Draco and I won't be surprised if she researches on this based on the facts I've presented. I cried again, Draco. Just as I cry every year when she wishes for the one thing I can never give her.

She's 10 years old and has been longing for you for half her life. I don't know what to do anymore. Draco, I wish you could tell me what to do. You always knew how to keep me calm and how to help me with my problems.

Merlin, Draco. It's 10 years after and I still write to you. I have moved on in my life but I have realized that I haven't moved on from you. I haven't really stopped loving you. I know that you will always have a special place in my life but I have to let it go now. I have to let you go now. So this will be my last letter.

Happy Christmas, Draco.

Happy Christmas and may all your wishes come true.

I'll never forget you.

Love always,

Hermione

Draco Malfoy cried. He cried and he cried and he cried which surprised him because Malfoys never cry. He cried for Hermione, he cried for Cassie and he cried for himself. For 11 years now, he has been living his life the way he was supposed to, never the way he wanted to. He cared for Astoria and loved Scorpius but he was never really happy. He cried for the years he missed with the woman he realized he still loved. He cried for the years he missed with the child he never knew he had. But he was a Malfoy. And Malfoys had to pull themselves together and keep moving forward.

He held the red leather notebook close to his heart and breathed deep. He was still unsure of what to do but he knew he would figure it out. Right now, he needed to get some rest until it was time to send his son off to Hogwarts. He grabbed the string of the notebook and was about to tie it when he noticed that there was a piece of paper sticking out of the back of the notebook. He gingerly picked it up and read it.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

Around a month ago, I went inside my mother's study to look for a book. As I was peering through her shelves, I stumbled upon this red leather notebook that had a string bound around it. Because I am my mother's child, I was quite curious so I opened it. I read this notebook, Mr. Malfoy. I read about my life. I read about my answers to every question I have had since I was 5.

You, Mr. Draco Malfoy, are my father.

I never told my mother that I found this. Seeing as she hasn't written to you in months and has chosen to forget about this, I believe she may never look for it. But just in case, I magicked a book to look exactly like it. It took me days to decide on what to do with it and when I finally realized what I had to do, I did it.

I am writing and sending this to you now, Mr. Malfoy, because I believe you deserve to know. I know that this will be all too much for you, believe me, I am still shocked and it's been weeks after. I'm not asking for you to be in my life. I'm not asking for money. I'm not even asking for you to publicly recognize me. I just really want you to know about me – not know me, but about me. Anything else, Mr. Malfoy, is all up to you.

I'm 11 years old now and a few months back, I got my letter for Hogwarts. I am excited. My mother says I'll be in Gryffindor but with this little stunt I am pulling behind her back, I believe I have the makings of a Slytherin. I'm leaving for school tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy and my mother is extremely proud and sad. She will miss me terribly, I'm afraid. She will probably cry her eyes out while she watches the train drive off. She's always such a drama queen.

I wish you could be proud of me, too, Mr. Malfoy. I'd like to believe you are.

I hope to meet you one day. For now, I'm just happy to know who my father is.

Take care, father.

Cassiopeia Granger

A/N: Okay, so that was new for me. I hope you all liked it.

And as always, if Harry Potter were mine, it would be Christmas every day.