"Draco!"

"Shit," He muttered, trying to think of how he could avoid his wife. Not finding any inspiration in the bottom of the glass of Ogden's finest Firewhisky he had in his hands, he decided responding was the better part of valor.

"Yes, love?"

"Don't you 'yes, love' me! Did you fire another nanny today?"

"Yes, yes I did," he answered, moving towards the kitchen where he knew she'd be.

"But you knew! You knew that was our last chance with the agency. Who the fuck is going to watch Scorpius if we can't get a nanny from the last agency in wizarding Britain? Merlin's beard Draco, what the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"She was teaching him about motorcycles, Astoria. What would you have me do? Let our child die in a horrible accident that could have been prevented if we hadn't allowed our child, our precious boy, to be taught by a muggle-born idiot?"

"Muggle-born!?" Astoria shrieked, incensed at this latest indication that her husband had no idea how hard it was to find a qualified wizarding nanny, willing to live in the infamous Malfoy Manor, to keep track of their precocious son.

"It always comes back to their parentage Draco, and I'm bloody sick of it! Has the war taught you nothing? Hermione Granger beat you in every single subject. How can you think that muggle-born witches and wizards are inferior?"

"She didn't beat me in History of Magic!" Draco retorted, his chin jutted out with pride.

"Right, because she turned out to have Dragon Pox."

"Listen, love, I didn't like her, OK? She was filling his head with nonsense! I don't understand why we can't find a pure-blooded witch, familiar with the old ways, un-mired in all of prejudice and derogation of the lower classes, to teach our son. Now that I think of it, that pretty much describes my mother…" he said nonchalantly, bringing up a long-dead subject.

"Draco, for the last time, NO! Your mother, while I… care… for her deeply, will not be raising my son. After all, I've been living with you for almost a decade, and I shan't thrust that upon another woman!" Astoria spat, thoroughly annoyed with her husband. "I'm calling the agency and begging them to send a replacement. You will be civil to this one, no matter whom they send, are we clear?"

Draco knew that tone of voice and his only chance of survival was to agree, so he nodded dutifully and made his way back to the study, lamenting over his lack of freedom and the deplorable state of Britain's nanny system.

OoOoO

The following day, Astoria was in the kitchen when the fireplace came to life, turning green an instant later, heralding the arrival of their newest nanny. Astoria had had to beg, borrow and steal to get the agency to send her another candidate. She'd had to sign a magical contract guaranteeing a six-month term, just to get them to agree to think of a candidate suitable for her home. Draco's list of requirements was lengthy, even after she'd removed some of his more… distasteful requests.

Ready with a broad smile and a sweaty hand, Astoria braced herself for the new arrival, praying to any God that would listen that the candidate proved smart and agile of mind; at least agile enough to spar a few rounds with Draco.

Nothing could have prepared her for what came through her fireplace grate.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you," the woman in front of her said, eyes flicking left and right, taking in her surroundings.

"Hermione?" Astoria said, astonished at the sight before her.

"Yes, I know it's a mouthful, but I can assure you the children adapt quite quickly," Hermione said, shaking Astoria's hand brusquely. "Speaking of children, where is Scorpius? I should meet him."

"I… you… Do you know who I am?" Astoria asked, her mind running a mile a minute in no particular direction.

"Astoria Greengrass," Hermione supplied promptly, reviewing the piece of parchment she pulled out of her bag. "Your son's name is Scorpius, who is eight. You've had quite the litany of nannies come through here, though it never says why they left. Have there been deficiencies in their knowledge base, or their skills?" Hermione asked, producing a quill, so that she might take notes on where to brush up.

"Ummm… you might say that. My… husband is quite… difficult."

"Quite."

Hermione gasped, as she would know the voice anywhere. Draco Malfoy. Turning slowly, she paused to take a look at the man before her, for it was sure that he was a man now, not the boy she knew from Hogwarts. Standing at over six feet tall, broad shouldered, but still lean, he was the picture of elegance and class. Staring down at her practical woolen jumper, and blue jeans, she hardly felt like she belonged here. Gathering her wits and her confidence about her, she turned to him and extended her hand.

"Mr. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to see you again. I'm the new nanny sent by the agency to watch after Scorpius. I trust that you'll be happy with my tutelage."

At that, Hermione turned to Astoria and said, "Ms. Greengrass, could you show me to my quarters? I'd like to get unpacked before I go see Scorpius. I assume he's in his room?"

"Uhhh… absolutely?" Astoria sputtered, unsure what to make of the expression on her husband's face. Happy to leave him there to his own thoughts, Astoria led Hermione toward the west wing of the house. "Follow me," she said demurely, gesturing through the set of doors that Draco was standing in front of.

"If you'll excuse me…" Hermione said to Draco as she passed.

"Fuck me," Draco said, closing his eyes hoping fervently that this whole morning had been a figment of his imagination.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, stopping to glance in his direction, the fire in her eyes indicating she'd heard exactly what he'd said.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," Draco murmured, unwilling to repeat his original comment.

Hermione's pallor turned pale as she registered his words before saying a quiet, "Thank you, I look forward to being here."

OoOoO

Hermione had thanked Astoria politely upon being shown to her room, and promptly shut the door in her face. Turning to rest her back on the door and take in her surroundings, she took a deep, deep breath.

Malfoy Manor. I never thought I'd be back here. Shaking herself, she began to concentrate on the task of unpacking her things. On the desk under the window, she placed her photos; one of her parents, trying to stay perfectly still despite the fact that Hermione had told them it was a wizarding camera, and a picture of her, Ron and Harry at Hogsmeade.

She smiled at the memory, and then began unpacking her books. Before removing a single tome, Hermione opened her bag, pointed her wand and said "Accio bookshelf!" A miniature bookshelf, about the size of an acorn, came flying out of the bag to be deftly caught out of the air by a tiny, blonde haired little boy.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, having not realized he was there. "And who are you, young sir?"

"I'm Scorpius," the boy replied playfully, holding his prize tightly in his fist, now jammed behind his back. "Scorpius Malfoy." He said his name with the same emphasis on his last name that his father had used in school; like that alone should impart some knowledge on how to interact with him.

"I see," Hermione said gravely, trying to suppress a grin. "And why, exactly, are you in my quarters? It isn't polite to enter someone's room without their permission."

"Malfoy Manor is my house, so it's not really yours, now is it?" he said snottily, pulling his hand out from behind his back and brazenly examining his stolen object.

Hermione having had enough of his snark, wandlessly called the bookshelf to her. Scorpius yelped in surprise as the object left his hand speeding across the room into her open palm. "This may be your house, but this is my room, as per the legal contract made between my employer and your family. Therefore, you'll need permission to enter it again. Are we clear?"

Scorpius scowled at her, the wheels in his head visible as he turned over the information in his mind. Hermione could tell that he was not used to people speaking to him this way, and she shuddered at how much work she clearly had to do while she was here.

"And this?" Hermione asked, gesturing toward the shrunken bookshelf,. "This, you know is notisn't yours, so why didwhy'd you take it?"

"I didn't take it, I caught it. I didn't want it to break! I'm no thief," he spat, stomping his foot for emphasis.

"Ahhhh, my mistake then, and you have my apologies, sir. Thank -you for catching my bookshelf, so thatkeeping it remained unbrokensafe." As she said this, she took out her wand and returned the bookshelf to it'sits full height – which was nearly to the ceiling. One by one she started pullingpulled books out of her bag and, stacking them on the shelf, in alphabetical order, first by subject, then by author.

She hadn't taken her eye off the boy as she went about the task of setting her room and her possessions to rights, and was intrigued by the level of curiosity there.

"Do you have a question, Scorpius?"

"Several," he stated plainly, skeptical that she would answer them.

"Well, let's have it then!"

"Really?"

"Absolutely! The only way one is to can learn is by asking questions, and then finding the answers. Let's see if I can answer some of yours."

"OK… why'd you call me sir?" he asked, timid.

Hermione, answered plainly. "Sir, or Madam, is a term of respect. I respect you, and so I address you with respect."

"You respect me? But I'm a child!" he blurted, before covering his mouth and trying to regain his composure.

"Yes you are a child, but a smart one. You have your own thoughts, ideas, and opinions, and if we arewe're going to continue to work together, I think there's going to have to be a certain amount of respect. Wouldn't you agree?"

He thought about this for awhile before nodding briskly, already intent on his next question.

"How did"How'd you fit all of those books and that bookshelf into that tiny, beaded bag?" he demanded, and she recognized the thrill of discovering new magic. You and I are going to get along just fine, little man.

"It's an undetectable extension charm. It's illegal, except for people for whom the Ministry has made an exception some – I happen to be one of them."

"Because of what you did in the war?" The question, stated so baldly, took Hermione aback for a moment. She had to remember that it wasn't malicious, and that he wasn't throwing the events of her past in her face on purpose. He was a child, and he was curious, that's all.

"Yes, among other things," she replied, watching as he digested her answer. He seemed satisfied, for now, but she knew she'd have to answer that one more clearly at some pointone day.

"When are we going to start with tutoring?" he asked, wandering around her room, picking up her knick knacksthings, but making a distinct an effort to put them back exactly as he'd found them. Respect, she thought to herself. Good, he does knowknows what it means.

"I expect we've already started, sir."

"Oh? Oh! Well, yes, I guess we have… Madam?"

"You may call me Hermione, if you'd like," she said with a smile.

"And you may call me Scorpius. Thank-you Hermione!" he said with a small smile as he skipped out of her bedroom.

Perhaps this job won't be so bad after all.

OoOoO

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Hermione overheard tense voices through the grate in her sitting room. Moving over to her beaded bag, she withdrew a pair ofher extendable ears – a habit that she'd never managed to break after the war; the damned things were handy!

"Astoria, I willI'll not have that woman, teaching our son about the world," Draco yelled.

"Oh yes, you will Draco, because we're bound!" Astoria screamed back, sounding like she was particularly proud of the fact.

"What do you mean, we're 'bound'?" Draco demanded, his voice quiet and icy. He was definitely not impressed.

"I signed a magical contract that says we won't send her back until at least the six-month mark. It was all I could do to get them to even consider finding us a replacement for the last nanny that you fired without cause! Draco, you can't keep doing this. Hermione Granger was top student number one in your class for every subject. Yes, every subject! I won't hear again about how you 'beat' Hermione in History of Magic – she was ill - the only reason she missed one question on that bloody exambeat her and you know it. If there is anyone more qualified to teach Scorpius, I've never met them. So you will go along with this, Draco, or else."

"Or else?" he drawled, and Hermione could see him examining his fingernails in her mind, pretending he wasn't interested in the conversation.

"Yes, or else Draco. Or else, I'll start asking around for the divorce lawyer I've been talking about for so long. I will not be treated like a doormat byfor you any longeranymore, and I will not raise that child by myself. I need help Draco, and if you're not man enough to do it, the least you could do is letgive me have a decent nanny!"

The last word in this tirade was punctuated by the slamming of a door and the staccato clicks of heels rapidly moving down the hallway. Hermione was about to call back the ears and tuck them back in her bag when she heard indistinct mumbling.

"Or else. Who does she think she is to threaten me with divorce? My private investigator better come up with something soon to get me out of that bloody prenuptial agreement, or I'm going to lose my . Granger? As if, I'd let that filthy mudblood teach my son…"

Hermione pulled the extendable ears back with a harsh pop, rolled them up and stuffedstuffing them back in her bag. After all these years, she was remarkably surprised that the old rhetoric still stung. Determined not to let it sour her mood, she pulled her hair back in a bobble, glanced in the mirror before casting a glamour to freshen her makeup and tame some of her fly away curls. It's not vanity, it's professionalism¸ she reassured herself, tugging down her jumper and rolling up her sleeves. Now, let's go find Scorpius.

OoOoO

She found Scorpius him in the library, curled up in a chair with Hogwarts: A History. She smiled at the familiar tome, widely known as one of her favorites and cleared her throat. He looked up at her, and hurried to close the book, dog-earing one of the pages in the process.

"Scorpius!" she gasped, moving to take the book from him, straightening the page. "Never, ever, dog-ear book pages in my presence," she said quietly, hand on her chest.

Looking at her quizzically, he nodded, before asking, "Why? My dad does it all the time!"

"Of course he does," she muttered under her breath.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Scolding herself for not being more careful, and loathing the fact that the children she taught had keener hearing than her own, she answered him. "I mean, of course he does, because these are his books, and he is at liberty to do . You, however, are not. Plus, I believe that literature, as one of the highest forms of art in the world, should never be given that disrespect. The thought of folding pages in books… sets my teeth on edge."

Scorpius caught a giggle as it tried to escape at the look on her face, like the idea of folding a page corner would cause her physical pain. "OK, Hermione. No folding book corners, promise."

"Excellent, now let's get to work. Where did you last leave off in your studies?" Scorpius, it seemed, was a diligent student and kept all of the syllabi that his previous nannies had provided him. Reviewing the plethora of curricula in her hands, she noticed a common theme. "Has noNo one ever included Muggle studies?" she asked, reviewing each list carefully to be sure she wasn't mistaken.

Scorpius wrinkled his nose in a mixture of confusion and disgust. "Why would I need to learn about Muggle studies? I'm going to Hogwarts, Madam, not a Muggle school," he pointed out slowly, as if he thought she were daft.

"Yes, but so much of what happened in wizarding history is a direct result of, or had a direct impact on, Muggle society. Everything we do has an effect on the world, wizarding, or otherwise. Surely you can see that, no?"

"I mean, I guess,. I just don't understand why I need to…" He didn't finish his sentence, sensing that it was wrong somehow, but he didn't know what to do now that he'd started.

"Care? There shallThere'll be no rebukes here. If I differ in opinion, I'll explain myself, anddisagree, we can debate it. That's how learning works." He saw her take a deep breath and square her shoulders, as if for battle, and prepared for a tongue lashing.

"Did you know that I'm a Muggle-born Scorpius?" she asked calmly, her hands folded in her lap as she sat, her leg crossed and a foot bouncing in the air.

"You're whatReally?" he demanded, his jaw dropping and his eyes bugging out comically.

"A Muggle-born.

"Really. Both of my parents were born in London, and were dentists – they look after people's teeth," she explained at the look of utter befuddlement on his face. "I found out I was a witch when Professor McGonagall showed up on my parent's doorstep to hand me my letter, and inform us that the odd things that seemed to happenhappened around me were not merelyweren't a coincidence, but a genetic trait."

"Gen-etic?" Scorpius repeated, his mouth working to form the word.

"Yes, genetic. Genetics is a Muggle field of science that studies how human beings come together. What makes you, you? Why do you have your father's blonde hair, but your mother's eyes? Why was I born a witch, when both my parents weren't? All of this can be answered by a field developed by Muggles. Still think you shouldn't care?"

Scorpius, whose eyes had gotten wider as he considered each question she had posed, shook his head, mute with the possibilities.

"Right then, here's the syllabus I have created for our time . Take a minute to review it, and then if you have any questions, we'll discuss them then. Sound fair. Fair?"

Taken abackSurprised at being asked his opinion, Scorpius sat up straighter in his chair and began reading the syllabus, dedicated to understanding what was to come for the first time in his young life.

"Who are these people?" he asked, pointing to the list of authors that Hermione had listed. "I've never heard of anyone named William Shakesbeard, or Janet Austen."

"William Shakespeare, without the d please, and Jane Austen, are both famous Muggle writers who wrote many greatfantastic stories throughout their lifetimes. They're considered some of the greats."

"Oh, uh… . How is this going to help me at Hogwarts though?"

"Tell me Scorpius, what do you plan to do after Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, sitting back in her chair and regarding him carefully.

"I… I plan to go into business. With my father." he said, as if this should be obvious.

"Is that what you want to do? Or what you think you should do?" she asked, again, quiet and with polite interest. Like the question she was asking was of no importance, just a curiosity. The levity of the question allowed him to seriously consider his answer.

"I suppose it's what I always thought I would do. It's never been all that clear whether, or not I have a choice," he said, frowning. He didn't seem to like thinking that he didn't have a choice.

"OK then, put that aside for the moment, and assume that nothing isnothing's predetermined. What would you like to be when you grow up?"

"I… I think I'd like to be a lawyer," he said quietly, looking over his shoulder as if his mother and father were going to pop out from behind a book case and reprimand him.

"Excellent! Do you think that wizarding law ever intersects with the Muggle world? Or do you think that everything you'll ever need to know will be found within the walls of Hogwarts?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and watching him work it out for himself. This was her favorite part of being a nanny. Asking questions, using the Socratic method to open a child's mind and then sitting back and watching the tiny rose bud take shape and fully blossom, right before her eyes.

"I'd always thought of law as being sort of… never ending. So, I'd need to know everything, not just what I learned at school. So, waitWait… are you telling me that reading Muggle literature might help me in a career in with wizarding law?" he asked, his expression wondrous, practically salivating at the idea of getting his hands on new literature.

"Absolutely," Hermione said with satisfaction, knowing that she had him hooked. Patting him on the back, she gestured to the desk in the center of the room using her wand to bring over the first couple of subjects they'd be discussing today. "So, Scorpius, which would you prefer to start with. Genetics, or William Shakespeare?"

"Genetics," Scorpius replied promptly, holding his hand out eagerly for the textbook she'd brought him.

Astoria had watched the whole encounter through the charmed painting in the hallway. It acted like a one-way mirror; the side facing the library was a painting of a knight from King Arthur's court astride his horse, while the other became translucent at a whispered command. She felt bad for spying, but even she had her weaknesses.

She watched Hermione with him, asking him questions and, treating him like an adult. She was magnetic in the way that she interacted with him and he gravitated towards her like the needle on a compass to True North.

"Admiring the view?" Draco drawled from behind her. Startled, she whirled around, pushingslapping him back.

"I was simply overseeing our son and his tutor, like a good parent would do. Where have you been?" she demanded, hands on her hips, her earlier fright being displaced by righteous anger.

"Out," he snapped, and turned on his heel toward the kitchen. "Pip!" he yelled to no one in particular, and was rewarded by a quick pop! signaling the arrival of his personal house -elf. "Yes master?" she squeaked, eyes on the floor.

"Get me some tea. And don't over steep it this time! That last cup that you brought me tasted like hippogriff piss."

"Yes master, right away!"

"Really Draco, that elf lives to please you. Must you treat it so poorly?"

"Oh keep your knickers on."Come off it! I treat Pip exactly within the guidelines set down by the Ministry regarding the Fair Treatment of Magical Creatures Act, thank you very much. She even draws a salary," he said with a smirk, reaching out in the air just as a cup of tea, perfectly cooled appeared in his hand, and took a sip.

"A salary? One knut per annum is not a salary Draco and you know it. You're flouting the rules, and you're going to get us all in trouble. DoHave you have no thought for your family?"

"'Per annum' is exactly what makes it a salary, Astoria. Or did you need me to look up the term for you in the dictionary? You've made it very clear that we're not family, love, so don't give me that load of shit. Family doesn't speak of divorce like it's an afternoon tea."

Sighing at his complete lack of empathy and unwillingness to change, Astoria began fixing herself a sandwich and asked, "What is it that you want, Draco?"

"I want you to let me out of my prenuptial agreement," he said, taking another sip of his tea. Astoria, who had a mouthful of food, nearly choked. "I beg your pardon?" she breathed.

"I would love to give you the divorce you so desperately want, but as you know, my fortune is tied with yours. If we divorce, I'm left with nothing except what was left after the Ministry took their reparations from the warpound of flesh, which was a pitiful 't much. It'll hardly keep me in the style to which I've become accustomed," he said, adjusting the sleeve of his ten galleon shirt so that it fit snugly around his heirloom watch.

"And what makes you think that I would let you out of the prenuptial agreement? The only thing that dissolves the agreementit is if I violate the morality clause. Do you honestly believe that I've done that?" she demanded, furious that he could insult her this way.

"Oh no, I know you haven't. I've had you followed for months by a private investigator and he didn't find so much as a floo network infraction," he said off hand, reaching across the counter and taking a bite of her sandwich.

Astoria's hands began to shake, and Draco mistakenly took it for fear and pressed, pressing what he thought was his advantage.

"Of course, for the right amount of money, I willI'll find someone who says that they've been sleeping withshagging you. There's no question that there are any number of blokes that would love to say that they'd bagged the lovely Astoria Greengrass."

Astoria, who'd been trying dutifully to reign in her rage, was pushed over the edge. "Try it," she whispered, her words dripping with acid.

"What!?" Draco's mouth gaped unbecomingly as he regarded his wife, whom he thought he knew so well.

"I said try it," Astoria spat, standing and adopting the regal posture foisted upon her since came naturally. "I've never slept with another man in my entire life, but and I know damn well I'm not the only women you've been with – before, or after our marriage." As Draco's look of shock slowly turned to outrage, Astoria's face broke into a ghastly smile. "Oh yes, love, I know all about the slags from the Leaky, as well as and the high priced call girlshookers that you charged to our personal account. Did you really think I wouldn't notice? That I don't have people at Gringott's who are loyal to me and my family? How silly can you be, you supercilious fool!?"

"Silly enough to have married an ungrateful bitch like you!" Draco spat. As the words left his mouth, Draco was thrust back against the wall as if pushed by an unseen force. Hermione, who'd heard the last part of this exchange, had had enough.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you'd be so kind as to remove yourself from the household, I'd greatly appreciate it. I do believe Astoria has had enough of your particular brand of company, and it would be wise if you packed your things and gave her some breathing . Now."

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Gra-!?" His words were cut off, his tongue beginning to protrude from his mouth as his breath left him violently.

"Who do I think I am?" Hermione asked pleasantly, her hand tightening into a fist as Draco's gurgling became a strangled hiss. "I think I'm the brightest witch of our agea war hero, and if I tell the authorities that I walked in on a former Death Eater, laying hands on his wife, there isn't a soul in this country who wouldn't believe me. Perks of being a war hero and all."

She opened her hand, and Draco fell to the floor, gasping for air and moving as far away from Hermione as he could. "You see Draco, I seem to have lost all my patience for bigoted, feckless men, especially those who treat women, and other creatures, like they're subservient. Leave, now, before I report you to the authorities."

Draco stood, pulling down his shirt and vest, sweeping his hair back out of his face as he snarled at the pair of women. Reaching into his pocket, he looked at them both, calculating.

"Try me, Draco. I'm begging you. Give me a reason to hex you into oblivion. I've been waiting for so, so long," Hermione murmured, a look of barely concealed excitement on her features. Astoria was watching the exchange, enraptured with the look on Hermione's face; at once completelysimultaneously calm and terrifying. More entertaining however, was the look of absolute and utter betrayal and shame on Draco's face as he released his wand in his pocket, straightened himself up and triedtrying to regain what was left of his dignity before he leftleaving the room.

Whirling around to face the hallway and the painting, she looked to seeAstoria saw Scorpius still engrossed in the book on genetics. Glancing at Hermione with a raised eyebrow, unable to see how he could have possibly missed that exchange, Hermione murmured, "Silencing Spell", with a slight shrug.

"Is he always that bad?" Hermione asked, adopting her best tutor's voice; again appearing unconcerned about the answer.

"Pretty much, though he was much better at hiding it in the beginning. Or perhaps he'd just conditioned me to believe that I'd deserved it. Either way, I woke up when Scorpius was born and he tried to manipulate him the same way he had manipulated me. I won't allow him to be used."

"I'm glad. He's remarkably smart," Hermione said, gesturing to Scorpius who closed the textbook he was reading, carefully avoiding any creases in the pages, and moved on to the next book in the stack she had left for him.

"Yes well, you may have been the brightest witch of your age, but I was the brightest witch of mine," Astoria said with a wry, and slightly smug smile.

"Ah, that explains it then," Hermione said with a chuckle. "I knew he couldn't have got that bright eyed curiosity from his father. Draco was intelligent, but he had no… innocence, about him. That boy is full of wonder."

Eyes shining at the compliment, Astoria didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded in thanks.

"Have you never married?" Astoria asked Hermione, studying her profile. She was certainly pretty enough to have attracted any suitor she might have wanted. Her brown curly hair was much tamer than it had been in school, and her proficiency with glamour charms was clear. Someone had obviously given her some style advice because, while plain, her clothing fit her remarkably well. "I thought I heard a rumor about you and Neville Longbottom?"

Hermione smiled at this, remembering her time with Neville fondly. "No, Neville had some certain… proclivities, that didn't suit my tastes and I had a few that didn't suit his. We're much better off as friends."

Astoria couldn't help but be horrendously intrigued by this statement, but thought it would be rude to ask.

"Well, umm… thank you, for what you did with Draco. I could havecould've handled him on my own, but it was nice not to have to for once."

"Oh, please. I know you could have handled him. I've been waiting to take a wand to Draco Malfoyfor this since he first called me a mudblood in the courtyard at school. This was a long time coming, so I should be thanking you, for providing the opportunity."

With a slight bob of the head, Hermione turned and headed back to join Scorpius, leaving Astoria to mull over the idea of Hermione Granger and her strange proclivities.

OoOoO

Draco was in his room, throwing multiple expensive items,things just for the joy of watching them shatter. That and they belong to thatmy bitch of a wife of mine, and she. She doesn't deserve them, he thought bitterly. How dare they conspire against him like that? He was Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake, he deserved some respect.

An idea striking him, he turned to the desk in the corner and began penning a letter. His maniacal smile grew with every word until he was practically vibrating with glee. Once theThe ink was dry, he went to the open window, opened it and whistled for his owl, Orion.

"Hello, old friend. Deliver this to the man who sees everything," he murmured, placing no address on the letter.

Chirping loudly and giving him an affectionate peck on the cheek, the bird flew off into the night.

"We'll see who gets the last laugh Astoria," Draco muttered, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

OoOoO

The following day, Draco was sitting in his office, triumphant as he read the return letter Orion had brought. Petting the owl and feeding him bits off of his plate, he contemplated his success..

Draco,

I've found what you seek. Gregory Goyle was seen exiting Gringott'sGringotts at the same time as your wife late last week and I have pictures that've been… enhanced, to promote her guilt. Also, the amounts have been removed from your joint account, back dated to accommodate the doctored hotel reservations and portkey manifests that we've doctored. There is. There's every appearance of infidelity here, and Mr. Goyle has been enticed and is willing to testify. He's been given access to the blood wards at the manor, and shall floo in at precisely 10 AM. He hasHe's assured me that he willhe'll get Astoria in a compromising position for pictures.

Sincerely, T.

Draco could always count on Theodore Nott to get the job done. His job as a Ministry curse breaker for the ministry left him with a plethora of unsavory contacts with which to procure elicit goods, be them liquid, or carnal. Thinking of enjoying both, he penned aanother quick letter and sent his owl off with it, smiling as he pulled his finest bottle of Ogden's out of his safe and waited for his private floo to come to life. Not fifteen minutes later, his favorite shag walked into his room, naked under her trench coat.

"Get on the bed," he demanded, draining his cup and taking off his clothing.

"Right to business then, Drake?" He grimaced at the use of the old nickname. She was the only one who got away with using it.

"Sod off Pansy, I want to fuck."

"Well all right then, let's do this!" she said with glee, pulling him with her onto the bed.

OoOoO

Showered and thoroughly satisfied, Draco went to go deliver his news to his bitch of a wife. He stopped in the library, to see Scorpius, but he wasn't there. Curious, he cast a Homenum Revelio, and saw only two people, in the master suite. Granger must have taken the boy on one of her blasted 'field trips' again, he thought, glancing at his watch and seeing that it was, in fact, ten o'clock. Right on time, eh Goyle? Gods, Theo never disappoints.

He took his time heading to their bedroom, thinking about how shagging Pansy in their marriage bed would give him such satisfaction. He looked at all the artifacts that were placed seemingly without care throughout the house, creating a mental tally of their worth as he walked.

Down the hall from their bedroom, Draco heard a moan and stopped in his tracks. Well done, old chap! He'd never given Goyle much credit in school, owing to his generally blank expression and poor grades, but if what was going on in the next room was actually happening, he had to hand it to him.

Rushing forward, he pushed open the door.

Astoria was in the throws of passion, writhing her hips in a sultry circle, riding the cock inside her like it was a prized stallion, head thrown back in ecstasy as the person below rubbed her nipples between practiced fingers. Losing control of her rhythm due to the intense pleasure, she cried out as she lifted her hips and the cock below her pistoned in and out, thrashing her into a long, drawn out release.

Not done with her, her bed partner rolled her over, penetrating her again as they lifted her legs over their shoulders, placing their hands next to her head and leaning forward. It had the effect of allowing them to kiss, while deepening the angle and caressing her G spot.

Draco sat transfixed, as he realized that the evidence of her adultery was right in front of him. What luck!

But something was wrong with this picture. Was that cock blue? he thought to himself, trying to piece together what he was seeing. It wasn't until Astoria reached up and began to fondle a pair of breasts that were not her own, that Draco finally realized what was happening.

"Gr…-Granger?" he sputtered with complete disbelief. Turning nonchalantly, Hermione kept up her pace, using the strap -on like a weapon, intent on Astoria's building orgasm. "Yes, Draco?"

"What the… What the fuck are you doing, shagging my wife!?"

"Satisfying her in ways you never could, I imagine," she said, reaching between them to brush Astoria's clit with her thumb, tumbling her over the edge, yet again. "Scratch that, I don't need toneedn't imagine – that's number three."

"Number… number… what the fuck is going on!?"

Climbing off of Astoria and handing the woman a robe, Granger began the process of getting dressed, checking her watch to be sure of the time.

"Astoria love, fix your hair – they'll be here any moment."

"Who will be here!"?" Draco shouted, his voice reaching a screeching soprano.

"'Ello, 'ello! How's it going?" a voice said from the newly activated floo. Out of the fireplace stepped none other, than Theodore Nott.

"Theo? What are you… What the fuck are you doing here!? This was notwasn't what we discussed!" Draco sputtered with equal amounts of shock and outrage.

"Delivering some home made justice, old friend. Though, now that we're speaking of it, friends don't typically use blackmail to exact a favor. Good ol' Astoria here, she knows how to cultivate a friendship, with kindness, and helpful work contacts," he said, winking at her.

"Wh..- what? Astoria – I have pictures of you with Gregory Goyle and he'll testify in court, that you've been an adulterous bitch. So, looks like you're going to get your divorce, and I'm going to get the money. Who's laughing now, you conniving cunt?"

At that, both Hermione and Astoria started laughing. It started off as a slow roll, but built until they were both clutching their sides, fit to burst. Theo, who hadwho'd never missed the opportunity to join in on a good joke, barely contained his mirth.

"Oh they are, Draco. Believe me, they are."

"What the fuck do you mean!?" Draco screeched, beginning to feel like he was losing at this particular game of chess.

At that moment, the floo activated again and out stepped Pansy Parkinson. Looking back, Draco would know that it was in this moment that he was royally .

"Hello there, Drake. Have a good night?" she asked, waving an envelope at him from where she stood across the room. She handed the envelope to Astoria, air kissing each of her cheeks and, saying hello. More to his astonishment, she did the same to Granger.

"What… -What the fuck is happening right now?" Draco whispered, trying to get his mind around this sequence of events.

"What's happening, is, that I have evidence of your infidelity Draco, thus breaking the morality clause of your prenuptial agreement, rendering you dead broke. It also procures me the hasty divorce that I've been dying for. So you see, I, in fact, will be the last one laughing, you arrogant prick."

Theo, Pansy and Hermione began whistling and applauding loudly. "But… but, you were shagging Granger," he spat, grasping at straws. "Surely that violates your end of the morality clause Astoria dearest?"

Astoria's smile widened as she remembered that particular stroke of genius. "Actually, Draco, if you'll remember the morality clause in our agreement, it specifically says that I can only violate the clause if I have sex with another man. I assure you, Hermione Granger is one hundred percent, pure, unadulterated woman," she finished with relish, reaching over to give Hermione a kiss.

"But… you were just as surprised as I was when the agency had her show up. How the fuck did you pull this off!?" DracoDraco's control was really starting to lose it,disappearing as it became clear that he was losing everything.

"Hermione and I have known each other for years, and we've been planning this for months. I was surprised, because we hadn't agreed that this would be when it went down – she wasn't supposed to show up for another week. It worked out in my favor though, because you never suspected a thing. Again, feckless git."

"That would be my doing, thank -you very much," Theo said, taking a . "I'd heard that Draco's P.I. had something planned because of Draco's incentive. I was worried he'd get them at any cost, andruining our plan would be ruined."

"You! You're in on this?" Draco demanded, whirling on his friend and bunching up his fist as if to strike. Simultaneously a group of ropes sprang out of thin air, binding Draco Draco's arms tightly, his arms as on both his sides, unable to moveimmobilizing him.

"You really are getting very good at wandless magic, love," Hermione said, stroking Astoria's back.

"I have an excellent teacher," she murmured, taking the time to kiss Hermione again.

Coughing loudly, Pansy waited. "Oh yes! Pansy had come to me after the latest blow off after one of your many, elicit nights and said she'd had enough. She wanted to get back at you for always leaving her high and dry – "

"I see what you did there…" Theo said, putting his forefinger on his nose, then pointing at her.

She couldn't help, but laugh as she continued. "It was then that we realized that she would be the perfect person to trap you in your own game. Willing to shag you one last time, she became the last piece to our elegant, and perfectly constructed puzzle."

"Welcome to real life Draco, where you're a pauper, and we're all kings!" Pansy said, lifting a glass of champagne she'd conjured out of thin air in salute.

"But… what about Scorpius? You used our son for this?" Draco spat, disgusted.

"Oh, now you care about your son," Hermione interjected, putting her hand on Astoria's arm.

Just then, the fireplace alighted yet again, and all of the adults in the room glanced at each other in confusion. Then, out of the flames stepped the boy in question.

"What about me dad? Hermione's been teaching me for months, and is the best tutor I've ever had. She's taught me more about life, and what those foolish pure blood traditions you keep going on about have done to our society, than you ever could, or would. Hermione makes mum happy, happier than she's ever been with you. Any part I could play in getting you out of here was worth it. Go. Away."

Stepping in front of his mother, who rested her hand on his shoulder, he reached back and grabbed Hermione's hand putting it on top of his mothers. He looked back at Hermione and nodded.

Hermione, reaching into her pocket, pulled out a tiny box, opened it and took the delicate filigree ring enclosed within and silently slid it onto Astoria's ring finger, her eyes never leaving Astoria's face. The question was never asked, the answer never spoken, but true love didn't need words.

The three people, now a family, turned to the bound and broken man on the floor and said in unison,

"Bye, Draco."