Chosen

Author Notes: Thank you for those who mentioned my slip up with the dates in the prologue. I don't know what was going through my mind. Though to be fair I did write the ending before adding the beginning.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and if I did why would I be writing fanfiction?

Chapter 1: Duobus post annis (Two Years Later)

15th October 2000

They had gone through two safe happy years together, her and Matthew in the newest order safe house which was in the North of Scotland. It was a large house in the middle of the woods so Matthew could have a breath of fresh-air once and awhile, protected by Dumbledore himself with wards allowing for a nice walk in the woods. The house was large enough for mother and child with a few guests as well. This was so if someone needed to go into hiding they could stay with Hermione and Matthew.

Matthew never seemed troubled by the isolation him and his mother sometimes had to bear in dark months when Voldemort was at his worst, he was happily ignorant of the terror which lay outside his home. He'd only notice when his mother was crying, being quite advanced for a two-year-old he'd snuggle up to his mother and wait until she was playing cars with him again. And then he'd be running about, squealing and screaming once again his blonde curls flying everywhere.

And everything changed in a few seconds.

Dear Hermione,

Once again I must ask for you to offer up your home to a few of our newest members who may be in the most danger. I'm sure you'll have no problem dealing with two extra mouths to feed. These are two men who have defected from Voldemort and have decided to accept our protection though they are still unsure of fighting for us – Minerva

Minerva is holding back vital information I'm afraid. One of them is Draco Malfoy. He knows nothing of Matthew so I'm sure you have some explaining to do. I'm sorry for this being so sudden but he will be here on the 16th. Blaise Zabini will also be joining him, you know the git I dated in my sixth year and he ended up to be as gay as a sparkly rainbow? Yeah him. - Ginny

Good luck with those tossers, and when can I see my godson? – George

Hermione suddenly got a splitting headache as she held the letter with shaking hands. It was all so sudden. She never planned to see Malfoy's face ever again. Even if they both survived the war she didn't plan to ever have to confront him about his son, though she knew that would be unjust. Honestly she felt Malfoy had no right to know Matthew, she felt he couldn't be a good father to him. She planned to raise Matthew with help from his godfather George Weasley.

George had been consumed by grief after Fred died; he wouldn't speak, eat or sleep. Ginny figured he was only living because that's what Fred would've wanted. The family was torn, it was like they had lost two sons rather than one. Molly distanced herself from her son, Hermione knew it was because of his resemblance to Fred. Her respect for Molly dipped very much that day. So she went up to Ginny when she was four months pregnant and said, "I'm going see George." And left.

At first there was silence, where they'd sit at the kitchen table playing with their fingers. Then the next day Hermione poured some tea and placed it in front of him. "Drink." And after a few minutes his fingers wrapped around the mug and lifted it to his lips. He recoiled. "Sorry, I always make my tea hot. I never really liked it until now, I get these cravings from the little one."

And then she brought tea in for the next few days, then she brought small cupcakes with the command, "Eat." And he did. Then he allowed her to sit next to him, pulling a chair beside him.

And after a month he finally said, "So how did Malfoy knock you up then?" And then slowly he came back to life. It would a lie to say he wasn't still grieving, Hermione knew he'd always grieve but he was happy again he was no longer a broken boy. And to her surprise and everyone else's George and Hermione formed a bond they'd never expect to have.

And then when Matthew was born there was no hesitation when she said, "Hey Georgie, meet your godson." She wished she could've taken a picture of the look on his face. And now there was no hesitation as she scribbled a note to him saying;

You get to see Matt right now if you help me get ready for my doom – Hermione

He was there in a flash. Giving her a smug lop-sided grin. He hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear, "Getting a bit dramatic there. Malfoy is not smart enough to create your doom. Only I can do that."

She slapped his arm and pulled away, "Get inside and see Matt, you prat." He tutted and muttered something about 'woman' and 'violence' before walking into her house. She followed him in, "You're a horrible influence on poor Matthew."

"Poor Matthew? Poor Matthew? He's the little bugger who poured salt into my tea last week when I wasn't looking! Honestly I have no doubt he would've been a Slytherin." Hermione grimaced, they'd never know now. Voldemort was rebuilding Hogwarts for purebloods only, raising them to be Death Eaters. There was no chance in hell of Matthew having the wonderful years in Hogwarts he'd grow up to learn about, he'd have to be tutored by mostly his mother.

George has settled himself on the ground just before Matthew trampled over to him, throwing him small arms around his freckled neck, "Dorge!"

"Hey little man, been good to your mother?" George asked running a hand through Matthew's pile of curls. Matthew giggled in return. "No, didn't think you were."

Hermione smiled weakly, "Knocked over my mother's china this morning. I had a fit and nearly forgot I could use reparo." The boy giggled again and tore himself from George's arm to return to his collection of toy cars and car garage.

"So where will you be keeping Malfoy and Zabini?" George asked.

She shrugged, "Does it matter?"

"It could. Malfoy could be one of those people who spends hours in the shower so you don't want him near the bathroom."

Hermione smirked, "Yes, I'd hate to know one of those people." She gave a pointed look to her ginger friend.

"Mum's worse," he muttered.

Hermione sat down beside him, "Yeah well I'm planning to keep those two as far away as me as possible. Malfoy can have his precious bathroom if he wants."

"Do you want me to stay over when they come in case Malfoy has a bitch fit?" asked George becoming uncharacteristically serious.

Hermione smiled again, "I'm sure I can control a bitching Malfoy, George."

"I dunno, those Malfoy's are crazy blondes," George said, turning back to his lop-sided grin. Hermione smiled but did not respond. "You sure you're going to be okay?" She nodded. "Then why did you invite me over?"

Her smile slipped off, as she said in a small voice, "Because I'm freaking out."

"Let it all out honey."

Hermione hesitated but then it was all pouring out of her, "This wasn't meant to happen. I don't need this. Matthew doesn't need him. Matthew's never asked about his father because you're as good as one! I never thought I'd ever have to tell Malfoy about him, I just hoped I could pass him off as mine and some muggle's and say he inherited my mum's hair even though her hair in black. Matthew's only two! He won't understand what's going on! I-I just don't know how I'm going to do it. Malfoy's probably under a lot of stress already, what with betraying You-Know-Who-" Everyone was fully aware of the taboo, "-and now he has to stay with one of the people he hates most in the world, the person he hasn't seen hide nor hair of since he shagged her and then I'm going to be like 'Oh and I forget to mention. I got pregnant with your son and he's now two-years-old and in the other room!'"

George stared at her for a long time, calculating her. She was about to speak again when he said, "I think you need a drink."

16th October 2000

Draco sat by the windowsill of a grubby motel watching a fly with a broken wing climb up the smudged window. It lasted nine seconds before falling back down. The stupid thing, tried to climb up again. Seven seconds. The bug was attempting to get out of the closed window again. Three seconds. It was getting tired.

The fly was doomed to try again and again to try and get out into the world through the window, yet it would end up climbing up and falling. Until it died. Draco envied the fly, its ignorance and its short life. He wished he could die but at the same time he was running from it. He was in a numb state, not caring or knowing where the Order was taking him. All that existed to him was the present, the fly crawling up the window again and the horrible memories of the previous months that hid in the shadows of the filthy room. He was barely aware of Blaise lying on the small sofa. You'd think he was sleeping if you didn't see his cold eyes staring endlessly.

Numbness was a gift and a curse at the same time. It protected you from the terrors, from the pain but it left you with nothing. Nothing to do and no motives. It gave everything a dark veil, it made bright colours grey and it made happiness an impossibility.

An auror he could place no name on in came into the motel room carrying a paper bag. Draco supposed it as best that there was no familiarity except for Blaise seeing as he could not recognise the empty silver orbs staring at him through the mirror. The dark haired auror placed a bundle in front of him. Draco scanned it and it's greasy spots before the scent of food brought him to unfold the paper. Fish and chips. Mother would've never approved of this 'beggar's food'. He winced, no amount of numbness could block out her screams.

He sat silently as he heard either the auror or Blaise ruffle through their paper folds and eat their food. Until he could no longer resist the fumes of the greasy foods as he took a chip in his hands gingerly. He willed himself not to think of his mother and her high regard of manners. As soon as the salt has reached his taste buds he realised just how hungry he was. He ignored his discomfort with the oil on his hands and forcefully shovelled chips into his mouth, then he moved onto the fish. He reminded himself of Weasley.

Then he wondered if that's where he was being taken, to rough it with the Weasels. The thought of having to suffer through weeks and months of annoying freckled gingers made him want to empty his stomach on the already dirty ridden floor. Why were they subjected to staying in this place before they were taken to their new residence? Were they really hated that much or was there some half-wit idea about their safety going on.

He honestly hated the Order. It was filled with corrupt Potter worshipers who wanted nothing more than him burning on the stake. But they were his only chance of staying alive until the end of this war. But he doubted they would win, they already lost their poster boy and Voldemort had control over nearly everything. There was just a few aurors he had no claim over. He just hoped he was being sent to a remote enough place to spend the rest of his life in without fear.

Draco didn't know why he hadn't committed suicide. He had thought about it enough times but he was never drawn from it. He-

"We're going." Draco turned, the auror had gotten Blaise off the sofa and was now staring uninterested at his watch.

A loud crack echoed through the garden and Hermione nearly dropped the bottle she was handing to Matthew. They were here.

So how did I do?