A/n- The grammatical mistakes are because I'm tired and too lazy to re-read normally, and because I don't use a beta reader (I ought to), not because I don't know how to write grammatically correct. Thanks :)
P.s. I gave up on chapter titles… I fail at that.
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Chapter 2
Draco paced the room nervously, biting at his nails. It was an unhealthy nervous habit from his younger days; his mother had forced him to stop eventually. Charming ones' nails to be the taste of Muggle cough medicine was normally effective, but Draco couldn't stop anyways. He didn't want to. Anything was better than allowing the feeling of being a complete and total disappointment to Hermione wash over him. He refused to succumb to the guilt, even though it was ebbing through him.
Taking deep breaths and long strides, Draco thought everything over. He knew he needed to tell Hermione as soon as possible; sooner, rather than later, he had agreed. Melana had told him it would be less than a few weeks before she started showing, and then the news would spread like wild fire. The last thing Draco wanted was for Hermione to find out through the paper, or even worse, a co-worker at the Ministry.
An involuntary shudder pulsed through Draco as he imagined Harry and Ron finding out. It would be off with his head, he expected. It'd be something he'd need to face though, eventually. There was no doubt that they'd pay a visit as soon as Hermione told them, or else if they found out otherwise. His only idea to avoid them was to leave and stay with friends in France somewhere, but Draco wasn't about to be a coward. He knew, this time, Harry wouldn't be siding with him, however.
Melana had been nice enough about the situation; it was agreed, already, that the child would live with her and her family, who had previously been informed. Draco had promised he'd stop in eventually to meet Melana's family, but he was hoping to put that off as long as possible. Draco was confident that her parents weren't exactly thrilled with him, even if the whole ordeal wasn't his entire fault. Other than that, Melana wasn't pushing anything other than, at the least, twice a week visits. Draco knew he could handle that.
Except, he didn't see how this was going to work. If, by some kind of miracle, Hermione did decide to stay with him, what would life be like? He, Draco, would be entitled to visiting his… child, he swallowed the thought, more than once a week. That would mean spending time with not only the baby, but Melana as well. How would that affect his relationship with Hermione? And (this was his biggest fear), would he become attached to Melana in the process?
It was too much for an 18 year old boy to handle. Half of him still wished that Melana had just gotten rid of it, but then again, that was much too immature for him. After all, he really wasn't a fan of killing something that he, Draco, had created. And if he thought devilishly, like Lucius, then he knew he was getting the pureblood child he had always wanted. Technically, the Malfoy line would continue, however, under Melana's name.
That was Draco's only demand; the child couldn't have his name. It was insulting to Melana, he knew, but he wouldn't have it. Only if he and Melana, by a stroke of chance, ended up together officially, would their child be named a Malfoy. To Draco, it wasn't totally his. And though he'd never voice it out loud, he wasn't sure if he was even ready at all to allow a child of his to enter this world. His brain pounded at the thought. He sat down.
The easiest way to get through this was to sit down with his mother first and try to explain the situation. It would give Draco some sort of idea of how to bring the subject around to Hermione, and perhaps Narcissa could provide insight. The woman would be royally pissed, Draco had no doubt, but hence was life. She'd have to know eventually. Hermione's departure would be sure to alert her.
Finally determined, Draco stood up and headed towards his mother's room. The journey was difficult; he turned around and walked halfway down the stairs twice before making it to her floor. He knew she was home, since he could hear the sounds of the Wizarding Wireless playing down the hall. Sighing heavily, Draco strode over to the door and crept in.
Narcissa was plumping pillows in the guest room; why, Draco didn't know. They rarely ever had guests, except for family, ever since Lucius had passed. Most of his "friends" were now in jail or otherwise in hiding, Draco suspected. As for the others, they didn't stop by unless it was for business purposes (whatever that meant), and they didn't stay the night. Besides, the Malfoys had elves for the cleaning. Draco suspected this sudden urge to clean and redecorate had to do with Lucius' death. Well, whatever helped his mother grieve, he'd go along with it.
"Draco?" his mother said, surprised, whirling around and seeing him, standing just inside the door. "Are you coming to look at my handiwork?"
Draco barked. "Good one mother. No, actually, you'll find I have better things to do."
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "What, your fiancé?"
Draco's cheeks went pink and he coughed. "Interesting, mother."
"If you think I don't know…"
This was getting awkward and way too far off topic. "No, no. Drop it. I need to talk to you about something rather private."
She looked at him weirdly and shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed. Draco followed her lead and sat on the perfectly made bed, mussing the covers a little. His mother fretted over the linens for a moment and then peered back at him, examining the lines on his face. Lines of worry.
"What's wrong?" she asked. Narcissa was rarely ever concerned about her son; she loved him, but it had always been Lucius who was her first priority. Their connection, emotionally, had never extended farther than typical mother-son relationship. He had never confided in her. So, to Draco, spilling his deepest and darkest secret was frightening.
"What if I…" he paused, not sure how to say this. A lump rose in his throat, and he quickly swallowed it back down. His stomach, jumbled at the idea of telling anyone this information, was making him nauseous. "What if I told you that I got someone pregnant?"
There, he had said it. His mother's face lit up. "You and Hermione are having a baby?" she asked, excitedly. "It's so soon!"
Draco blinked a few times. Trust Narcissa to think the best of her son. Draco felt even worse now; his mother wanted to be a grandmother, but it wasn't exactly what she was thinking. Then again, she'd probably prefer a pureblood child over a half blood. He sighed, not knowing how to crush his mother's Puritan beliefs about him.
"No, mother."
"No? I thought you said… a baby." The last words lost their tone. She was now staring at him, slightly horrified.
"Yeah… well, you see…"
"Draco Malfoy, do not tell me you were unfaithful."
He looked down, wringing his hands. "Mom."
"Don't, Draco."
"Narcissa," he started. She snapped her head up to look at him; angry, hurt. He didn't want to do this anymore. "I just… it was a fucking mistake."
"Bloody hell it was a mistake, Draco. How are you going to tell your fiancé that it was a mistake? Do you think she's going to understand that?"
"…No."
She sighed, looking away from him. Narcissa was disappointed and ashamed of him, this Draco knew. But he couldn't take it back. And he knew that it would be ten times worse with Hermione. At this moment in time, Draco figured it would be easier to just walk out of the door and never come back. Maybe Hermione would think he got eaten by wolves.
"So what are you going to do?"
"What the hell can I do?" he snapped, cracking his knuckles nervously. "There's nothing to do but tell Hermione and hope to Merlin she doesn't kill me."
"She's going to leave you, Draco." How blunt of her to say so.
"You don't think I fucking know that?" His face was red.
"Don't talk to your mother like that," she threatened. Draco looked away, back at the floor. He truly wished he had just asked her about the bedroom decorations after all.
"Sorry, I just… don't even know what to tell her. Sorry doesn't even cut it."
"When did this happen?"
Ugh. He didn't want to think about that night. "The night before we left Hogwarts."
"Too much Firewhiskey?"
"Melana is a cheap drunk," he admitted, a faint grimace appearing on his face.
"Melana? Pretty girl. I always thought you'd end up with her."
He chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, right. She's a bit of a tramp."
"I suppose so, sleeping with an engaged man."
"We were drunk, in her defense."
"And in your defense?" Narcissa countered.
He shook his head. "I don't have one. I think I knew what I was doing. That's what scared me. I couldn't even prevent myself from doing it… I was just pissed off at her."
She shook her head, tossing her blonde hair from her face. Narcissa was always faithful to Lucius, even when there had been doubt in her mind about his loyalty. Nonetheless, she knew how her son felt, and she surely knew how Hermione would feel. Draco only wished that his mother would say anything to comfort him, or to tell him what to do.
"Was she flirting with someone else?"
"Her ex-boyfriend!" he exclaimed.
She laughed. "A woman's way of testing a man's patience."
"Is that what it is? I call it stupidity."
Narcissa rolled her eyes at her son's harsh words. Of course Draco thought that way; he was looking for anything to use as a scapegoat for his actions, when there was none. He would simply have to learn to live with the consequences and hope that everything may finally, someday, work out. But in which was? Draco wasn't even sure what any of this shit meant.
"What's Melana's plan?"
"Keeping it. She wants visits from me twice a week, maybe more."
"You just need to be there for your child, Draco."
And there were those two words again; 'your child'. He probably would never get used to that phrase hitting him so hard. This was reality, and he was starting to feel its effects. He, Draco Malfoy, was, sometime in the next months, to become a father. He was 18. How was what even plausible? His head was spinning again. He really ought to stop thinking about it all together or he may truly become ill.
"Well, I'm unsure how this is all going to work out. I'm going to lose the one girl I've ever fallen in love with, and be stuck with a child and a girl I've only slept with. Great. Just what I always wanted out of life."
"It'll work out." She patted his knee helpfully.
"How should I even tell Hermione? How do you even bring that up?"
She thought hard for a moment. "Well, I'm not sure. But don't take her out anywhere. The last thing you need is for a public scene. Not at night, either. You wouldn't want her storming out of your bedroom at 3 am, into the dark with no where to go. Try sometime when she's home from work."
"Yeah…"
He heard the door slam downstairs. Hermione was home, early. "You should go, Draco. Tell her now."
"NOW?!" he exclaimed.
She shushed him quickly. Hermione's footsteps had started up the staircase; they echoed on the marble. Draco stole through the room and crept out of the room; Narcissa's eyes were wide open and she was nodding her head, as if to tell him just to get it over with. He knew he had to. Now was the moment.
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"So, can we talk about something?" Draco asked as casually as possible, glancing at Hermione. They had just finished lunch and were heading upstairs, preferably (for Hermione) to nap.
"Sure," she said easily, clearly not recognizing the tension in his voice. She sat and laid down on the bed, and Draco gulped.
It was wrong of him to want her right now. He needed to stay focused, so he didn't forget his mission right now. But Draco couldn't stand the thought of maybe never kissing Hermione again after this. She could walk away and he may never feel her lips against his again. Maybe he'd never see her again. That was certainly a possibility, and Draco didn't want to be wishing for closure and not getting any. So he'd give it a shot now.
He laid down next to his fiancé and kissed her forward, playing gently with her curls. His icy eyes found her warm chocolate ones and he stared deeply at her. He didn't want this moment to end, where it was perfect on the outside. The turmoil in him clashed with his the beating with his heart; the speed that it picked up by just her simple touch. It was wrong, but so right, all at the same time. Draco just wanted to lie here and forget about all of his mistakes and regrets.
"I think I finally found something I truly regret doing while I was with you." He tried to say this softly, so he wouldn't alarm her. The second she got suspicious, everything would tumble out wrong.
But on the inside, his body was raging at his thoughts. Draco's brain was telling him the correct thing to do, the right thing, and his heart was screaming in protest. But he couldn't live with this constant fight between his two halves. It was most important to do what was right, instead of living in constant guilt and fear. His palms were sweating.
She propped her head up on the pillow. "What?"
"I love you, Hermione. I really do. And it really kills me to have to tell you this."
"Oh my God," she said in response.
He bit his lip. "I can't even…"
"Tell me." It was forceful. His hand fell from her hair to her cheek, and he stroked it gently. He knew that he may never be allowed this small comfort again.
"I've made… some mistakes in my life. And, I continue to learn from them. But I already knew the lesson this particular one would teach me, and… well, I made it anyways."
His heart was pounding out of his chest, and his stomach was like a lead weight. Throat dry, he wasn't even sure how his mouth was forming proper words right now. This was all so wrong. Wrong time, wrong life, wrong everything. Draco had never wanted to hurt Hermione this bad; he hoped that she recognized that.
"What did you do, Draco?" Hermione replied sharply, her eyes brimming with anxiety.
"That night… at the dance…"
"Melana," she finished.
"Yes."
"Tell me what happened."
He took a deep breath. At least she was allowing him to ease into this. His heart thudded painfully. "I'm not putting any blame on you. I got a little… tipsy, and I wasn't thinking clearly… We ended up in a classroom, and it just happened so fast…"
"You shagged her."
He nodded his head, trying to stare at the ceiling. He could hear her trying to draw in ragged breaths. His hand instinctively reached out to hold her but she batted it away. He looked back at her and the tears slipped out slowly.
"Look, I'm sorr-" he started.
"I know you are."
"I wish I could tell you that it would be okay for us… but it's not."
"Draco, I… I egged you on, I… deserve…"
"No, you didn't. Not at all. Don't… say that. It was immature of me. I told you, promised you, that I had changed. And I didn't, at all. This isn't even the worst of it, Hermione. I really wish it was."
"What do you mean?" she said, trying to stifle her crying. Her hands wiped at her eyes lazily, catching the tears before they reached her cheeks. Her eyes were a blackened mess from her mascara.
"Melana is… going to have a baby."
Hermione choked. "Tell me its' yours, Draco." She was sobbing now.
"I… yeah, I'm pretty sure it is." He hung his head. His eyes stung and he was pretty sure he was going to start crying.
She took a deep breath. "You… I…" She got up quickly.
"You stay," he said furiously. He couldn't be here any more. He needed to leave. "I'm going."
And he strode the length of the room, took a look back at his fiancé, with mascara running down her cheeks, and practically ran out of the room. He didn't make it to the staircase before he was crying.
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A/n- I'm a fan of cliffhangers, so we'll leave it here for now. Reviews.
