A/N: TW mentions of child trafficking.


It was drizzling by the time the apparation point came into Draco's view. He could have bypassed the spell that made it impossible within city limits but he didn't need anyone questioning him at the moment. He needed time to figure things out, so no one could know about her yet.

He shielded the girl from the rain as he walked but she still stirred in his arms. His heart thumped wildly because, despite all his promises to her mother, he still knew fuck all about children. He was an only child so he hadn't had an opportunity to observe them, let alone communicate. What did you even talk about with a four-year-old?

Blue eyes blinked into awareness and his time for thinking had run out. Her pale lips trembled but she didn't cry like he expected, she only gripped his dark gray peacoat with a tiny fist as he adjusted his hold on her.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck and let out a puff of breath against his skin. He slowed his gait and cleared his throat. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Merlin, he sounded bloody ridiculous. Of course, she wasn't fucking alright! She'd just been taken from her mum!

Instead of answering, she responded with, "You're my daddy."

Just like that. No lead up or follow through. No crying for her mum. Just ...You're my daddy.

"Yes." He nodded, a bit thrown by the simplicity of the statement. "It would seem so."

"Mummy says you don't know about me."

"No, I'm afraid I didn't."

"That why I never see you before?"

This child was going to be the end of him. "Yes." Was he not capable of full-length sentences anymore?

Do you really live in a big house? With birds in the yard?"

That made him pause. "Yes, I do."

"Mummy tells me stories about you when I ask."

"Hmmmm. Does she?" He felt her nod and a smile spread on his face. Hermione had talked about him, told their daughter stories about him.

He knew when the blocking spell dissipated and hugged the girl tighter to his chest. "Alright, love. We are going to Apparate now." He wondered if she even knew the term or what it meant. "It's a tiny spell to get us from here to someplace else without walking. I doubt your mum took you side along, so this may be a bit scary. But don't worry. I've got you. Nothing bad will happen."

"Ok."

He took a deep breath so she would breathe too, and apparated into the foyer of Malfoy Manor.

Rhea was shaking so he held her to check her over. She still had all her limbs so he counted that as a win. He set her down and let her bag fall to the floor next to her.

"It's ok. You'll feel better in a moment," he told her, kneeling and holding both of her hands as she calmed down.

"I don't like that." She sniffled. "I don't want to do that again."

"Don't worry. We won't do that again." He stood up. "Are you hungry?" he asked as if he didn't already know the answer. It was obvious how malnourished she was. She nodded almost viciously and he mustered up a smile. "Alright then, let's make a stop in the kitchens and get you something to eat."

They were almost to their destination when he heard the sound of footsteps behind them. He looked over his shoulder and inwardly cursed. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face them. The hand he was holding squeezed slightly and he squeezed back, hoping that it was enough encouragement.

"Draco," his mother called out to him in alarm, all color draining from her face,"what's going on? Who is this?"

He wasn't prepared to encounter either of his parents this late at night so he hadn't really thought out what he was going to say yet. Now she was putting him on the spot so he needed to think quick. "Wimsy!" He called out, and the little house elf popped out of thin air at his side. It startled the little girl but he told her it was alright.

"What is it that you require, Master?"

"Wimsy, This is Rhea, and I need you to escort her to the kitchen and fix her something to eat. Anything she wants."

"You're not going with me?" She asked anxiously.

He bent down and looked into her eyes. "Don't be scared. He has taken care of me since I was your age. You'll be safe, I promise. I will be joining you both shortly."

Reluctantly she nodded. "Alright."

"This way, young mistress." The old elf said and took her hand, leading her down the hall and away from Draco and his mother.

He turned his attention back to her and was surprised to see a poorly veiled look of horror on her normally calm face. "Draco, please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

He frowned."I'm not entirely sure what you think it is, but I highly doubt it."

"You hear things," She said quietly, hands wringing in an odd fashion. "About men in the Inner Circle having certain... proclivities."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"There are rumors about children, muggleborn or otherwise, disappearing from the south district and being sold. What's worse are the rumors about who's bought them and whose bed they're sleeping in."

It took a moment for his mind to catch up with what she was saying, and when it did he felt like he was going to be sick. He physically recoiled. "What?!" He snapped, stopping her from continuing and swallowing down the dinner that was about to come up."You think that I... bought her? And for...for.." He couldn't even say it. "Do you honestly think so lowly of me, mother?"

She looked at her son with a little bit of regret in her eyes. "No. At least, I had hoped you weren't. But you never know when it comes to these matters."

He felt a bit betrayed and more than a little disgusted as he folded his arms across his chest. "I may be a right bastard, but I'm not a monster."

"Who is she then?" she demanded, voice still tight with worry. "Why is she here with you?"

He ran a hand down his face and sighed. "I was going to ease you into this, but since you insist on assuming I'm some kind of pedophile I'll just say it-."

"That's not what-"

"-she's my daughter."

Her mouth popped open in shock and whatever she was about to say was forgotten. "What?"

"I didn't buy her." He spat the words like acid, almost hoping that they burned her. "She's my daughter."

His mother looked completely baffled and a bit concerned as she stared her son down in the dim light of the corridor. At least she wasn't accusing him of...well...

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Would she be here if I wasn't?" he replied, trying to mask his anger and discomfort with her assumptions. "I'm positive she's a Malfoy, and if you would have taken a moment to look at her instead of thinking the worst of me you'd have seen the resemblance."

Her posture softened. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't…I shouldn't have assumed anything, but you know how precarious things are at the moment. I've hardly seen your face lately, let alone spent any time with you. How am I to know how much you've changed? The Inner Circle does things to people, Draco. When I saw her I just jumped to conclusions."

Taking a moment to look at it from his mother's perspective, he could understand that. That didn't mean it didn't still hurt, though.

"Well, I can assure you, mother, that despite the blood on my hands, I'm still very much the son you raised."

The statement seemed to relax her further as she took a step forward, shortening the distance between them. "You have no idea how much of a relief that is to hear." She smiled and he tried his hardest to give her a small one in return. "So, who is she? Where has she been all this time? How long have you known about her?"

He hesitated, unsure of which question to answer first. "Her name is Rhea," he said, and I just found out about her existence today. Her mother…it's been years since I've seen her. She is in a rather tight spot and asked me to look after her. I saw her face and I couldn't turn her away."

She tapped her chin in thought. "Is her mother a prostitute?"

He paused. It would be a decent lie. "Yes…"

"That's fine. We can work around it. There will be questions, of course, but we can say you had a fling with a French girl, a pureblood from a low family, and that she recently died, giving you custody of her only daughter." She was taking this a lot better than he expected. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Apologies. It's just…I thought you'd be rather cross to learn that I've sired a half-blood child out of wedlock. I was expecting quite a row. Anger, disownment even."

"The circumstances aren't ideal, I agree. Especially now, you sure know how to choose your timing, but you're my son, Draco. I would care for any child you fathered, regardless of the mother's status."

For the first time since Hermione had waltz back into his life, he felt the tension inside of him wane. "I'm glad you feel that way because I'll need help. I don't…I don't know anything about raising a child."

"You'll do fine, darling," she reassured him. "But you will have my support and guidance. I promise you that."

"What of Father? Do you think I'll have a problem with him?"

"Let me worry about your father." She told him, patting the side of his face. "Her mother's status will stay between us. You just focus on that little girl."

All the emotions he'd been trying to stifle came up, his eyes stinging as he forced them back down. He hadn't known how much it would mean to him to have her on his side. "Thank you."

"Now, go. She is probably in a fright. We will talk more about this in the morning. I'd like to officially meet my Granddaughter at a decent hour and in decent lighting."

And with that she turned from him, disappearing back the way she came, her night robes fluttering behind her.

After her departure, he made his way to the kitchens where he found a very confused house elf and a pouting four-year-old sitting at the table.

"Wimsy isn't familiar with that dish either, Little Miss." The elf was saying as he entered.

The little girl spun around in her seat, her face lighting up a bit when she saw him. "Daddy," The name still sent a confusing rush through him and he almost stopped in his tracks. "Mr. Wimsy doesn't know how to make anything."

"That's not true, Little Miss. Wimsy knows lots of recipes. Even ancient recipes passed down for generations. He just doesn't know what this Bangers and Mash is."

Draco came to a stop in front of the little girl and crouched down so he was more or less at eye level with her. "Rhea, things are a bit different here. The food may not be what you're used to."

"Oh," she looked disappointed for a second but then smiled. "What do you eat then, daddy? I want what you get."

"Let's start with something light tonight. It's already late and you need to sleep." He thought for a moment. She looked like she'd enjoy something sweet like he did. "What about a scone?" he asked her. "Does that sound alright?"

She only nodded so he looked to the elf. "I think a scone will do just fine."

The Elf bowed slightly. "As you wish, Master."

Rhea wrinkled her nose. "Why does Mr. Wimsy do that?"

"Why does he do what?"

"Call you master?" She replied plainly. "He wouldn't call me Rhea. I told him it was my name. I'm Rhea. I'm not "Little Miss"."

Shite.

"You see," He began, thinking of a way to explain, "he is a house elf that works for Daddy's family. He serves the House of Malfoy so he calls all of us by titles. Master or Mistress, in your case a version of that, Little Miss."

"Why?"

Why? He'd just explained…

She's four, he reminded himself. And she's lived with a muggle-born mother in poverty until now. He would have to explain everything.

Oh, Merlin. He was in for a long night.

He was in for a long life.