Better Dig Two
By Kittenshift17
Chapter 4 – Unplanned
Hermione Granger looked up at the sound of someone entering her office three days later. She had a welcoming smile on her face, expecting her two o'clock appointment to be arriving and she frowned in confusion when instead of a stocky werewolf strolling into her office, her eyes were instead met with the sight of Draco Malfoy.
"Sir? Excuse me? Sir? You can't go in unless you have an appointment!" her assistant, Becky, was calling from her desk and Hermione listened to the sound of her four inch heels clicking as the girl came after Malfoy.
She reached the door in time for Malfoy to close the heavy mahogany wood in her surprised face.
"Malfoy?" Hermione asked when he turned back to her with an unreadable expression on his face, "You can't just barge into my office unannounced. I have appointments to keep and you're interfering."
He didn't say anything as he crossed the office to stand before her desk and Hermione clutched her wand in her lap, just in case this was a less than polite visit. She blinked in shock when he slid a sealed envelope across her desk towards her.
"Open it," he commanded in a tight voice, his grey eyes fixed upon her in a way that was most unsettling.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, picking up the package carefully. It wasn't heavy.
Again, Malfoy didn't say anything. He simply stared at her, waiting for her to do as he'd instructed and eventually Hermione's curiosity got the better of her. Against her better judgement, she tore open the wax seal stamped with the Malfoy crest and peered inside.
Hermione frowned when she saw that inside the envelope there were several photographs. Tipping the package up, she poured them out onto her desk, freezing with suspicion when she saw the subject of each photograph.
"What are you doing with pictures of my son, Malfoy?" Hermione asked him, her voice low and deadly as she turned her eyes and her wand on him threateningly. He didn't flinch back from her.
"That's not your son," he replied, "Turn them over."
Narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, Hermione did as he said. And across the backs of each photograph was the name Draco Malfoy, along with dates each picture was taken. Turning them back over in confusion, Hermione stared wide-eyed at the pictures. Each one showed a little boy ranging in age from perhaps two until five years.
They all showed a little boy. His eyes were the same grey shade as Etamin's. His hair the same platinum blonde. Even the cheeky smile adorning his face was identical. They were almost exactly the same as many of the photographs she had at home of her son. The only difference was the slight age of the pictures, making them just the tiniest bit faded.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Hermione asked, glancing back up at Malfoy, who was still staring at her intently.
"No, it's not a fucking joke," he replied in a clipped voice, "So why don't you tell me why it is that your son looks identical to me when I was a boy, Granger? Because I'd bloody like to know!"
Dread poured through her like ice-water and Hermione's stomach flipped uncomfortably. A mounting sense of horror gripped her as she stared back down at the photos clutched in her trembling hands. She looked up at him again, then back to the photos, her mind desperately trying to reject the evidence right in front of her face. The boy in the photographs was so much like her own son that there could only be one explanation.
One terrible, horrible, sickening explanation for why Hermione's son looked so much like Draco Malfoy.
"No!" she whispered, dropping the pictures on the desk and slumping back in her chair, "No. It can't be… there's no way…"
"Granger," Malfoy warned, his voice sharp and unkind as he glared at her.
"He can't be your son," Hermione shook her head, denying the horrifying truth.
"Obviously he fucking can," Malfoy ground out.
"But I… we… I mean, I never," Hermione stammered. Her heart was racing inside her chest and she felt like she might be beginning to hyperventilate. She couldn't breathe.
"You sure about that?" Malfoy asked her seriously, "There's not even a possibility inside your mind that your son isn't Weasley's?"
"I mean, I knew he wasn't Ron's," Hermione blurted out, her cheeks turning red, "But I've never slept with you…."
"Then who's his father?" Malfoy demanded and Hermione felt her cheeks darken even more.
"I don't know," Hermione admitted in a whisper, her eyes wide and frightened.
"Then tell me this," Malfoy said in a low voice, "Five years ago, on the night of our Hogwarts Graduation Ball did you have sex with a stranger without removing your mask?"
"I… how did you…? Oh, merlin," Hermione blurted her eyes going wide, "It was you?"
"It was me," Malfoy confirmed, "And I'm wagering you got pregnant that night?"
Hermione slumped back in her chair, staring at Malfoy in utter horror.
She could see it. Those same grey eyes. The blonde hair that matched her son's perfectly. Even the facial structure. Draco Malfoy was the father of her son.
"Fuck!" Hermione exclaimed.
She felt sick. She'd never felt so sick in all her life. Not even during the height of the war. What was she going to tell Ron? The man might've managed to get by the fact that she'd shagged a faceless stranger in response to his philandering ways, but there was no way he would ever love her or Etamin the same if he knew Draco Malfoy was Etamin's father. The last thing she needed to tell her husband when she was arguing against having his kids was that she'd birthed Draco Malfoy's son.
"Am I to take that as a yes?" Malfoy asked seriously, "You slept with someone in the room of requirement on Grad Ball night and got pregnant?"
Hermione nodded mutely, wondering if this was what it felt like to go into shock.
"Fuck!" Malfoy snarled, his hands clenching to fists at his sides before he threw himself down in the chair in front of Hermione's desk. They stared at each other in silent horror as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
What was she going to do? She couldn't tell Ron the truth. He'd fly off the handle. Merlin, he'd probably try to hex Malfoy into oblivion. And she couldn't keep it from him either. She got the feeling Malfoy wouldn't let that happen.
"We have a son," he said hoarsely, staring at her like she was an alien.
"I have a son," Hermione corrected him quietly, "You were just the sperm donor."
"Granger," he began in a warning tone, "Don't make this more complicated than it needs to be by trying to keep my son from me."
"He's not your son!" Hermione hissed, narrowing her eyes dangerously, "He's mine. Until five minutes ago I wasn't even aware we'd had sex. Had I known it was you in that room that night, I'd never have…"
"You think I would've?" he scoffed.
"No. I don't. Which is exactly my point. You and I dislike each other immensely, and by some wild chance we ended up shagging. As a result Etamin was born and while I will never regret or take back bringing him into the world, I can't say I'm thrilled to learn that you are his biological father," Hermione told him frankly.
"But I am his father," Malfoy pointed out coldly, "As much as neither of us are thrilled about that fact. Which leaves us with something of a conundrum."
"You want to be in his life?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows challengingly, "You actually mean to tell me that pureblood elitist Draco Malfoy means to acknowledge having sired a son with a muggleborn like me?"
"Don't fucking complicate it, Granger," he warned again, his eyes flashing dangerously, "This entire situation is screwy enough without you being a spiteful bitch about shit long-buried. Now what the fuck do we do about the fact that Etamin is my son?"
Hermione huffed in annoyance.
Her mind was reeling and anger was sparking in her blood, making her want to lash out irrationally in fear over the fallout she knew would come from this mess. Biting her lip, Hermione did the only thing she could think of right then to regain some semblance of control over her life as it began a rapid tailspin.
She got to her feet and stomped quickly around her desk to the door. Jerking it open harshly, she stuck her head out and looked at Becky.
"Becky, please cancel the rest of my appointments for today. Tell them I've had a sudden crisis crop up and reschedule them all for some time next week. Cancel tomorrow's appointments as well. I won't be in," Hermione instructed the petite blonde woman.
"Is everything alright Hermione?" Becky asked her, looking alarmed and concerned.
"No, it most certainly is not alright. When you're done with the appointments, please bring me an Earle Grey tea," she paused for a moment, sticking her head back into her office, "You want tea Malfoy?"
"Merlin, yes," he replied, "Strong and black. Two sugars."
"Did you get that Becky?" Hermione confirmed.
"Cancel all of your appointments for the rest of today and all of tomorrow, then bring an Earle Grey tea and a strong black tea with two," Becky confirmed, nodding her head, "I'm on it boss. Let me know if there's anything else I can do."
Hermione smiled gratefully before closing her office door again and eyeing the back of Malfoy's head where he sat at her desk. Merlin, if she was going to get through this a nice cup of tea just might not cut it.
Going to the cabinet to the left of her desk, Hermione dug out the liquor decanter and two glasses from inside. They'd been a gift from Harry two years ago when he'd taught her to appreciate a good glass of honey flavoured whiskey. She didn't bother asking Malfoy if he wanted one, she simply poured two, before carrying both of them back to her desk. A migraine was beginning to niggle behind her eyes and Hermione was dreading the afternoon ahead.
Malfoy grunted in surprise when she pressed the glass of whiskey into his hand before retaking her seat. He didn't say thank you before he brought the glass to his lips and drank the liquid down. Hermione sipped her own liberally, eyeing him hatefully.
As though it weren't bad enough that some terrible twist of fate meant he was the biological father of her son, Hermione needed a moment to come to terms with having had sex with him. In fact she needed a good long while to process the fact that up until a few minutes ago she'd been recalling that night pleasantly, having been somewhat enamoured with the entire experience. She'd bloody fantasised about it plenty of times since then and Hermione felt ill to know she'd been unknowingly fantasising about Draco Malfoy.
Could there be any greater horror?
"I'm still waiting for your answer, Granger," he pointed out after several long minutes went by in total silence, "What do we do about him being my son?"
"What do you want to do about it?" Hermione asked him, "Do you want to be part of his life?"
"That would be nice," Malfoy nodded, "And I'd like him to know I'm his father."
"Malfoy," Hermione whined, sighing in exasperation, "Do you have any idea how complicated and confusing that will be for him? Etamin is a genius! He's far more mature and far smarter already than some adults I know. What do you think it will do to him to have me tell him that though I've told him all along that Ron is his father, it's actually you instead?"
"He's only five, I'm sure he'll be fine," Malfoy said.
Hermione wanted to throw something at him.
"Are you that thick and that cruel?" she demanded, "He's going to be confused and hurt. He'll be heartbroken to know that all this time I've lied to him. And Ron is going to go ballistic!"
"Weasley isn't my problem. The kid's a Malfoy and he should bloody well know it."
"And how do you propose I explain all that to him? How should I tell him that all the cousins he thinks he has aren't actually biologically related to him? How do I explain that the man who's been tucking him into bed most nights isn't his daddy, some guy his parents don't like is instead?"
"How are you going to explain it any better to let me see him and spend time with the boy?" Malfoy challenged bluntly, "The best option is to tell him it's because I'm his father. And it has the added bonus of being the truth."
"And Ron?" Hermione demanded furiously.
"Weasley's your problem. You were the fool who married a cheating slimeball in the first place. Is he aware Etamin isn't his?" Malfoy retorted coldly.
"Yes," Hermione admitted, "You may recall that I asked for marks…. I rubbed his nose in what I'd done."
"I never envisioned you to have a vindictive streak," Malfoy commented, eyeing her strangely, "But that's not the point. If Weasley knows Etamin isn't his, I'll bet it's eating away at him and effecting his relationship with my son."
Hermione sighed, hating the fact that it was true. She and Ron still hadn't come to some sort of agreement regarding the additional children issue and she'd felt Ron's resentment growing. She suspected he knew on some level that she feared she wouldn't love any others as much as she loved Etamin. She also suspected he was beginning to resent Etamin for existing at all.
"The boy knows, doesn't he?" Malfoy asked, watching her closely, "He's noticed a difference?"
"He said something about it the other day," Hermione replied tiredly, throwing back the rest of her whiskey and praying for patience, "Ron and I have been fighting because he wants kids of his own. Biologically. Etamin doesn't know he's not biologically Ron's son."
"You don't want more kids?" Malfoy asked, looking intrigued by the beginnings of the story and clearly sensing there was a lot more to it.
"I don't. I'm afraid having any others would be unfair to them. I'm afraid I won't love them as much as I love Etamin. He's… he's wonderful. Incredibly smart; witty, clever, sharp, happy. He's everything I ever hoped for in a child. And I'm afraid others won't measure up. Not because they're Ron's, but because they won't be Etamin. But of course, I can't tell Ron that because he'll think it's about him. Anyway, I was explaining to Etamin that I couldn't love his siblings as I love him."
Hermione bit her lip.
"As I mentioned, he's terribly bright, and he asked me why I couldn't. It sparked a philosophical debate about love and he mentioned how it was understandable because not everyone is capable of loving equally. When I asked him what he meant, he pointed out the different ways people express their love. For example, Harry and Ginny. Ginny shows her love by being a wonderful mother and always fussing after her children. Harry shows it by playing with the kids often, joking with them and having a good time and telling them he loves them. Anyway, Etamin mentioned that he's noticed the difference too in the way Ron and I love him. He said he knows I love him and would do anything for him because I dote on him and tell him all the time. He said that with Ron, he gets Quidditch talk and stiff handshakes. He said that he understands why Ron wants more kids and I don't, because I pour all my love into him, while Ron has love left over for others."
"You let that git mistreat my son enough to think he's not loved?" Malfoy demanded, anger glittering in grey eyes identical in colour to her son's.
"Ron loves him. Just, not as much as he would his own kids. When I asked Etamin what he meant, he just said that he knows that with Ron there's something there preventing Ron from loving him the way I love him. He said he knows that if he wanted, I'd give him the moon, where Ron would tell him the moon wouldn't fit in his bedroom."
"He wants the moon?" Malfoy asked, baffled.
"Don't be daft. He was being metaphorical," Hermione rolled her eyes, "And before you ask, yes, a five year old as bright as Etamin is capable of being metaphorical."
"Bloody hell," Malfoy muttered, looking mildly alarmed, "But then he knows something is off with Weasley. It won't be hard to convince him it's because Weasley isn't his biological father."
"And then what exactly?" Hermione wanted to know, "You want me to destroy his relationship with Ron to know he's yours biologically, and then what?"
"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked, "I want to know the kid."
"But what is your plan here exactly?" Hermione asked him, "When this gets out, it will be all over the papers. I can already see the headlines, "Snobby Pureblood breaks tradition and sires half-blood with a muggleborn." Like it or not Malfoy, you and I are both prominent people in the wizarding world. Everything in our lives will be called into question and readers will go rabid for every detail. They'll want to know how the hell we hooked up five years ago. My marriage will be called into question. Ron will probably demand a divorce. Molly will never forgive me for letting everyone think he was Ron's kid. You'll be dragged into the entire mess. They'll say you knew and abandoned us. They'll paint Ron as the hero, rather than the cheating villain whose infidelity landed you and I in bed together in the first place."
"So you'd rather just keep me out of your son's life because you despise me?" Malfoy demanded.
"I want to know what you plan to do about this?" Hermione retorted, "You want to shatter my son's illusions and then what? You want him on weekends? You want to battle for custody of my son. Because I can tell you now, that's not going to happen. You will not take my son from me."
"Easy Granger," he said, holding his hands up placatingly, "I'm not going to fight you for him or take him from you. I just want to be a part of his life and to have him know I'm his father. If we can't come to some kind of agreement… well…. We have to. If it means you bring him to the Manor a few nights a week or something, so be it. I just want to be a part of his life."
"How can you sound calm about this?" Hermione demanded, eyeing him and wondering if he was barmy.
"I knew as soon as I saw him with you in Diagon Alley the other day that he was my son. I've had a few days to come to terms with this, even if I did need confirmation," he admitted seriously, "I also don't have a spouse that I need to worry about upsetting. I know it's none of my business, but why in Merlin's name did you marry Weasley?"
"I love Ron," Hermione told him stubbornly and he raised his eyebrows.
"No Granger, you don't," he told her, "A woman in love with someone doesn't shag me the way you did. You were furious and you were seeking revenge and you bloody well got it. The two of you slept around on each other. The dumbest thing you could ever have done was forgive each other and get married. Didn't he lose his nut at you when he saw the marks I left all over you?"
"Of course he did, and when I told him I was pregnant, he blamed himself. He realised he was being an idiot, we forgave each other, we got married and we agreed to raise Etamin as our own."
"Only Weasley's been bollocksing it up enough that the kid knows he doesn't love him right," Malfoy growled.
"And you want to make it worse by shoving this whole mess in his face? He's a child, Malfoy. He needs a stable home environment. Not a hodge-podge, being traded off on weekends deal. He needs to feel safe and comfortable and like he has a home; not like he's some vagrant floating between two different houses and two separated parents."
"Then move to the Manor," Malfoy shrugged his shoulders, "It's not like there isn't enough room."
Hermione wondered why her jaw didn't make a noise when it fell open so far it could've hit her desk. She stared at him wide eyed in utter shock and mounting horror. Had he actually just said that?
"Did you just hear yourself?" Hermione asked him, baffled by how calm he seemed.
"Are you always this dramatic?" he rolled his eyes, "Look Granger, the fact of the matter is, we're the kid's parents. You want to make sure he's safe and stable and happy. I want to be a part of his life, and would prefer it if he could do so while being all of the things you want too. So it stands to reason that if he needs to not being traversing between dwellings, and you won't live away from him, then you should both move into Malfoy Manor with me."
"You've lost your mind," Hermione surmised, feeling a prickle of pity at the very thought.
"No I bloody haven't, don't look at me like that Granger!" he snapped, narrowing his eyes on her, "We both know you're going to need somewhere to live when the shit hits the fan with Weasley and his family. Weasley might've forgiven you and blamed himself for you having someone else's kid when neither of you knew who Etamin's biological father is, but he'll never get by the idea that you were so pissed at him that you shagged me."
"It's not like I knew it was bloody you," Hermione protested.
"No, but try telling him that. What's he more likely to believe? That you threw a tantrum and shagged his worst enemy before lying and saying you didn't know it was me. Or that you just had a few too many, trying to drown your sorrows and we both just happened to enjoy anonymity enough not to ask for each other's identity before going at it like bunnies? Because I know which one I'd pick if I hadn't been there," Malfoy told her and Hermione felt the pit of dread inside her stomach begin to churn.
She might be sick.
"And so you're just throwing out the idea that you and I – two people who strongly dislike each other – should just move in together with our love-child when my husband divorces me?"
"Where else are you going to go?" Malfoy asked her, "The Weasleys won't just straight up forgive you for lying to them. And Potter won't take you in, he's married to a Weasley and they'd never forgive him either if he did. So where else will you go? Who else do you have in your life who isn't going to be horrified and disgusted to know you birthed my son?"
Hermione barely managed to snag the waste paper basket from beneath her desk before the contents of her stomach made a reappearance. Malfoy didn't say anything as she coughed and gagged into the bin under her desk. She'd slipped out of her chair to sit on the floor, clutching the trash can like it was her only lifeline.
What was she going to do?
Malfoy was right. The Weasleys would never forgive her if they knew she'd birthed Draco Malfoy's offspring. It was one thing to have lied and told them all that Ron was Etamin's father. It was entirely another to have done so when she'd lied to them about who his real father was.
Her life was ruined. All of it. It was all over. She would be a divorced, single mother. Disgraced in the wizarding world. Abandoned by all her friends and everyone she cared about. Her son would never forgive her for lying and landing them in this mess when the Weasleys all refused to let him play with their children anymore.
Hermione realised that she'd begun to sob as she clutched her trashcan. She didn't think there was anything left in her stomach but bile. She felt even worse when movement caught her eye and Malfoy's shined shoes appeared next to her on her side of the desk.
She sobbed harder when he squatted next to where she was sitting pitifully on the floor and handed her a damp towelette for her face. He aimed his wand into the waste basket and vanished the mess she'd made. Hermione flinched when he carefully gathered her loose long hair and smoothed it down her back so she wouldn't get any mess in it.
"I vomited all night when I realised," he told her as Hermione wiped her face and tried to pull herself together. He handed her a breath mint when she disposed of the towelette before offering her a hand to her feet. Hermione was trembling as she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She watched in a daze as he poured her a second glass of whiskey, pressing it into her hand before helping himself to more and returning to the chair in front of her desk.
"My life is ruined," Hermione muttered to him in horror.
"Is it?" he asked, watching her over the rim of his glass speculatively.
"What do you mean? Of course it is," Hermione spat, glaring at him for his conversational tone.
"Why? Because your loveless marriage will come to an end?" he asked, "Because the lying, cheating bastard you married to will be out of your life?"
"There's a lot more to my life than Ron," Hermione retorted, "The rest of his family have been like my own since I was twelve years old! They'll never speak to me again when they find out. They'll refuse to let Etamin play with their kids anymore! My son will hate me over this."
"I think you're being dramatic," Malfoy informed her, "They might not be willing to take you in if Weasley throws you out, but they're not going to just abandon you Granger. Yes, I imagine it will take them some time to come to terms with the truth, but eventually they will do so. I think you'll find that once the initial shock wears off, they'll prove that like most people, no one wants to take sides or get in the middle of a messy break up. They'll still let Etamin play with their kids. They'll still talk to you once the shock wears off."
"You think they still will if I take you up on your offer?" Hermione asked darkly.
"I don't know," Malfoy shrugged, "They'll have their suspicions, I expect. But most people are mature enough not to get involved the affairs of others when they actually know them. We might all scramble to the gossip section of the Prophet each morning to see what those we don't know or care about have been up to, but when we're effected it's less amusing and more awkward."
"I really wish I hadn't run into you the other day," Hermione told him, skolling her drink before laying her forehead on the table.
"Real nice, Granger," he grunted but Hermione didn't bother looking at him for his annoyed tone.
"Oh shut up. You've ruined my life, you don't get to be pissy," she told him, her fingertips massaging her temples as her migraine grew.
"I've ruined your life?" he scoffed, "Woman I've been doing my damnedest for years to keep from siring a kid with any of the witches I sully, arguing with my mother about the need to produce an heir, and all along you've been raising that heir. My life is ruined. Do you know what my mother will do when she finds out about this?"
"Cry, probably," Hermione told him, "Possibly arrange for the assassination of me and Etamin."
"She'll try to insist I marry you," Malfoy corrected her.
"What?" Hermione yelped, lifting her head in alarm.
"First, you're the mother of my heir, and secondly, you're muggleborn. Do you know how hard she's been working to get the Malfoy family back in the good graces of wizarding Britain? To my mother you and Etamin will be a goldmine."
"If you think for even a second," Hermione began hotly.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist Granger, I didn't say I'd let her talk me into it," Malfoy held up his hands again, warding off her threats before she could voice them.
"This is a nightmare," she told him, groaning as she rubbed her temples some more.
"I know," he replied, eyeing her strangely.
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, wondering if she needed some Aspirin or if she should just finish off the rest of the whiskey in her liquor decanter. When she opened them at the sound of her office door being opened by Becky - who was carrying tea - Hermione found Malfoy still watching her.
"Oh Merlin, Hermione are you alright?" Becky asked her, looking concerned when she spotted the state Hermione was in.
"No," Hermione admitted truthfully, accepting her tea and taking a sip. Holding the cup, feeling the familiar warmth seep into her skin, Hermione felt mildly calmer.
"Is there anything I can do?" Becky offered, hovering about and clearly distressed by the state Hermione was in.
"Not really Becky. Thank you for the tea," Hermione sighed wearily.
"It's not trouble. If there's anything I can do, you just let me know, alright?"
Hermione nodded tiredly, aware that Malfoy was still watching her. He didn't seem to want his tea after all, still drinking whiskey as he sat there before her desk.
"Why are you staring at me Malfoy?" Hermine asked him when she'd warded the door after Becky closed it with a click.
"Trying to rationalise the Granger I know and torment against the woman I shagged in that room," he replied evenly and Hermione choked on her tea.
"Why would you say that?" she choked, coughing on the liquid lodged in her throat as she stared at him wide-eyed in alarm.
"Because if it weren't for the evidence, I'd never in a million years believe it could possibly have been you behind that mask," he shrugged.
"I'd really rather not discuss it," Hermione told him bluntly, "I don't want to vomit again."
He smirked at that as though Hermione amused him.
"So, what now?" he asked her, still watching her when neither of them said anything else for several minutes
"Why do you want to be part of his life?" Hermione asked him, frowning.
"Is that a trick question?" he wanted to know, eyeing her mildly, "I want to be a part of his life because biologically he is my son. And because I have a right to know my own child."
Hermione stayed silent, pondering him carefully.
"I think it might be best if you meet him before I tell Ron. I mean, I know you met him the other day in Diagon Alley, but that was rather brief. I don't want to go upsetting him and uprooting everything he knows – not to mention everything in my own life – on the off chance that you mean to stick around long enough to actually care for him."
"You doubt that I'll want to have anything to do with my own son?" he asked seriously, raising one eyebrow at her and Hermione realised that he'd already had the chance to get used to the idea of being a father and had decided that come hell or high water, he wanted this.
Hermione was surprised by that.
"I don't doubt that you want to have something to do with him, Malfoy. I just doubt your staying power. It's well and good to say that you want to be in his life and help raise him now, but the realities of child rearing are far removed from the romantic notions that are thrown about regarding the topic. The most important illusion being that a child will be cute and loveable all the time and that they'll be tiny replicas of their parents. I can assure you that Etamin is very much his own person. In some ways he's very much like me. In others, I've noticed traits that I recall you exhibiting in our youth. And sometimes he's a bit like Harry or Ron. And then there are some instances where he is just entirely Etamin. Where he might do or say something so far removed from the personal traits of anyone we know, that I just sit there in shock."
"I'm not suggesting that I want to mould him into a little clone of myself, Granger," Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"No, you're just wanting to barge in to upset the applecart and make everything all the more complicated," Hermione grumbled.
"Listen, witch," Malfoy snapped, his grey eyes flashing, "You were to one who went and attached yourself to a cart of rotten apples. You were the one who committed adultery in retaliation against your philandering boyfriend and got pregnant with my kid. You were the one who stupidly married the faithless bastard and insisted on having him try to raise my kid. Don't you dare sit there and blame me for wanting to be in my own son's life when your wanker of a husband is doing a shoddy job at being my son's father."
"It's hardly my fault Ron is a selfish bastard," Hermione protested before recalling who she was talking to and why she shouldn't be badmouthing her husband.
"And yet you married him anyway," Malfoy sneered, "It's not as though you hadn't the chance to get to know him beforehand. You married him knowing he was a selfish, egotistical, self-entitled wanker with a chip on his shoulder and a penchant for loose women who aren't bloody you. And to make matters worse, you combined all of those things with demanding he play Daddy to another man's kid. What did you think would happen, Granger? The bloke has a swath of older brothers whom he's been overshadowed by for most of his life, making him feel the burning need to prove himself and you ask him to raise someone else's son?"
Malfoy was glaring at her over her desk while Hermione narrowed her eyes on him, furious with his words and feeling a twist of annoyance to know that most of those things were true about Ron. He wasn't a bad person. He had a strong sense of loyalty to his friends and he could be rather smart at times. But he certainly had his faults.
"It's no wonder he's been badgering you about letting him knock you up," Malfoy went on coldly, "He's the type who will feel like he's failed if he doesn't do what everyone else has done. Potter's got a couple of kids by now, most of Weasley's brothers do too. And his own bloody wife has a kid who's technically not his. I don't think you really need me to tell you that continuing in a relationship with him – especially one where you've birthed my son – without giving him a few brats that are biologically his, is a recipe for destruction. You deny him enough and he'll fuck his bastards into some other tart's belly."
"Why are we discussing my marriage?" Hermione bristled, "You're here about Etamin, not Ron."
"I am," he agreed, "And you're telling me I should walk the hell away and let my son be mistreated by your wanker of a husband – a bastard who will eventually abandon you and my son. It's not going to fucking happen, Granger. I don't much care if your marriage self-destructs as a result of him learning Etamin's mine and I don't at all care for your doubts about my ability and inclination to be the boy's real father."
"It's not that simple Malfoy," Hermione hissed at him, "If he were younger or less of a genius, it might be. If he were still a toddler with no real idea of who was who in his life this would be simple enough. Yes, I am concerned about the impending doom of my marriage. But this is about Etamin. He knows Ron to be his father. He might've realised Ron doesn't love him quite right, but he still believes that Ron is his father. If you just waltz in claiming you're his father he'll be hurt and he'll be confused."
"So you want to wait until he's older and more damage is done?" Malfoy asked cruelly, "Until Weasley loses his shit at you about raising another man's son – my son, at that - when you won't raise his kids where the tot might hear him? You want Etamin to suffer the horror of knowing his pretend Daddy isn't his father and doesn't love him? You want to subject him to that fight, knowing Weasley will blow up about it and snarl over Etamin not being his son? You think that will be better for the kid's psychological state?"
"I don't want to ever bloody tell him," Hermione snapped, "I never wanted to have to deal with the idea of having you find out that you are his father and I never wanted Ron to love him less. It's why I've been refusing to have kids with Ron. Because I just know he'll show them more love and care than he gives Etamin and I don't want to break my son's heart like that."
"And I'm sure fear of him cheating on you again has nothing to do with it," Malfoy rolled his eyes and Hermione's stomach flipped at his ability to guess her reasoning so well, "Look Granger, like I said, your marriage is your business. But when it affects my sons it also becomes my business and I won't allow you to dictate when I can and can't claim the boy as mine based on the whims of your sham of a marriage."
"All I said was that I'd rather have you meet with him and decide this is actually what you want before I go completely upsetting him," Hermione grumbled.
"Yeah, but I heard loud and clear that you want to take the coward's way out, hoping I'll give up on the idea of claiming my son just by meeting him. I can assure you it will not work," Malfoy informed her coldly.
"Since when are you so interested in the idea of having a kid anyway, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded, "Last I heard you were raking your way through every eligible pureblood witch and a good number of the half-bloods too. Why would you suddenly want to have a kid when everything in your history suggests a severe lack of commitment and a distaste in general for being a husband or a father?"
"I don't suddenly want anything," Malfoy snapped, "It's just a cold, hard fact that I do have a son. With you. And I want to take responsibility for him. More to the point, I've thus far avoided marriage and fatherhood because every witch I sully is so bloody dull and the idea of having to marry them for the sake of producing an heir made me nauseas. In this instance you already have the child and I highly doubt you're going to demand I ever marry you. It's really a win-win situation. I get an heir without needing the inconvenience of a dull wife. You get a ticket out of a marriage that would eventually leave you penniless and possibly too old to consider remarrying. And Etamin gets to be raised by a man who will actually love him as a man should love his son, rather than a resentful bastard who sees him as a hurdle to getting what he wants from his wife."
"Oh well doesn't that just make it all better?" Hermione snarled, "Never mind the scandal we'll face in the eyes of the wizarding world. Never mind the fury and disappointment I'll receive when people learn that I'm a liar who shagged the likes of you. Never mind that our son will be left confused and hurt over being lied to and over replacing one Daddy for another man he's met once. No, it's all about you getting the heir you need and me avoiding being cheated on again."
"I was merely pointing out some of the advantages of this mess, Granger, not dismissing the drawbacks and fallout we'll both face," Malfoy replied, eyeing her as though he was both annoyed and amused.
"Why did you bloody have to run into me in Diagon Alley?" Hermione moaned, covering her face with her hands, "Why did it have to be you – of all people – in that stupid room that night?"
"Kismet?" Malfoy suggested, "After all, the chances of us every shagging were astronomical. More to the point you and Etamin just happened to be in the Alley the same time and the same day as me in order for us to run into one another."
"You believe in fate?" Hermione asked, peering at him through her fingers with some concern.
"After everything that went down with Potter and the Dark Lord and that whole prophecy nonsense, how can you not believe in fate, Granger?" he asked her mildly.
"Because I know there was a choice and that it's our choices that determine the path we take, not some higher power," Hermione told him.
"And it was your choice that you wanted to retaliate against Weasley for cheating on you rather than simply breaking up with him. It was my choice to return to the scene of my crime before leaving the school for a final time to wallow in my regrets and instead encounter an angry and lustful witch seeking revenge on her partner. It was your choice to travel to Diagon Alley three days ago with your son. It was my choice to abandon a fight with my mother in favour of fetching a cup of tea so I didn't strangle her about needing an heir. Choices we both made put us on this path."
"I'd forgotten you took Divination until fifth year," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Of course you believe in that rubbish to some extent."
"We're not here to discuss this nonsense anyway," Malfoy reminded her, "We're here to discuss how and when you will allow me to meet my son and be in his life. And to figure out some kind of arrangement that will see two former enemies and childhood rivals raise their shared child harmoniously and without further scaring the kid's mental status."
Hermione sighed, closing her eyes. She felt tired. Exhausted even. She hadn't been sleeping properly because she'd been fighting with Ron all week and agonising over her discussion with Etamin. This mess with Malfoy was just too much to handle right now. She didn't want to deal with it. With any of it. She knew she had to but honestly she just wanted to curl up and cry for a little while before pulling up her Big-Girl knickers and getting on with it.
"Just…." she sighed again, "Just hang around then. Ginny will be by to drop Etamin off at four."
