A/n- Often times, I disappear. I'm back. I'm going to finish this. Enjoy.

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Chapter 4

"Draco! Can you get the door?" Melana's mother yelled. Draco rolled his eyes and strode over to the door, quickly brushing off his robes. Opening it widely, he revealed two squealing girls in pink dresses carrying boxes almost as big as themselves. He let them in.

"Welcome, welcome," he said in an annoyed tone, and they brushed by him quickly, looking excited at the prospect of being let inside Melana's home. Draco rolled his eyes again. He wasn't going to last much longer.

He followed the pink girls in the sitting room, where a mountain of presents and boxes wrapped in colorful paper greeted him, as well as the sound of over a hundred chatting women. He despised Melana for making him be here. Normal men got to sit out on baby showers; not he, though. No, Draco was meant to stay at least for half of the festivities before he was allowed to escape to Blaise's Manor. Melana was overly strict.

"Thank you Draco," Melana whispered. He smiled and nodded curtly. Melana flitted away to formally greet all of the newcomers, including the annoying girls in pink. Draco didn't recognize them from Hogwarts, so they must be old friends or relatives, at the least. Merlin knows, Draco presumed.

He headed outdoors for a breath of fresh air, and looked up at the sunny sky. There were no clouds today; one of the only days it may actually not rain. For this, Draco was thankful. All it had done was rain for a week straight, and it was cutting into his Quidditch practice time. He didn't want to be off form; try-outs for the Chudley Cannons were the following week, and they were in dire straits for a new Seeker. Draco was so tempted to join, mainly to annoy Ron Weasley.

Ron Weasley; the new reserve Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. How that boy had managed to squeak out a spot, Draco had no clue, even if it was only for the reserve team. However, Draco wouldn't be playing reserves. Oh no, the Cannons needed a front man Seeker, and Draco was sure he was up for the job. Since Harry Potter was too busy studying to be an Auror, or something else that involved too much paperwork and not enough flying, Draco was happy to go for the spot. He had already let the Cannons know of his interest, and knew he had been labeled as a 'promising Seeker'.

Draco shook his head; if he thought too much about it, thoughts of his old flame would crawl back. It wasn't something he thought about often. Not because he didn't still love her, he did, but because it was too painful. And in his new life he led, there was no time for pain. Draco needed to focus and be on call basically all the time. He felt as though he had become Melana's new bitch, not the father to her child. Seemingly to her parents, it was the same thing.

"You okay?" he heard someone ask, and he turned around to see Pansy. Draco chuckled; she looked so different than in school. Not prettier or anything, just older. He had been seeing a lot of her lately, since Melana and she were on good terms, and Draco was over at Melana's often.

"Yeah, I'm great. Thanks." There was no coldness to his tone. The subject was, however, weary and something that Draco didn't want to start up again with her.

"You miss her today," she continued, to Draco's dismay.

"I miss her everyday."

"Melana understands that," she commented, flipping her black hair obnoxiously. Draco sighed. He knew Melana understood, or claimed to, but that didn't make any difference.

"I know she does," he said for what seemed like the millionth time. "It's not fair to her, either."

"No, but you know she adores you."

"She's merely attached," he grumbled, kicking the muddy earth. Pansy stepped a bit closer, putting her claw-like hand on his shoulder.

"Don't tell her that," she warned. "She claims she loves you." That was news to Draco.

"Does she? I don't see how she can. I'm only doing what she asks of me because this is partly my fault."

"You're being so responsible about this Draco, and she thinks that it's because you have deeper feelings for her, not just because you have a guilty conscience and no girl to fall back on."

This angered Draco, but he couldn't understand why. Melana confused him, and now Pansy was just making everything worse. If it could only be as simple as possible, then Draco could maybe think about what to do. But everything was weaved together now; this baby, Melana, Hermione, him… It swirled around in his brain. He was going to need a Firewhiskey.

"Well, maybe I do like Melana. But it's nothing com-"

"I knew it," she sang lightly, skipping away from Draco.

"Stop! Pansy, don-" It was useless; she was already inside. Draco cursed under his breath and looked back into the sun. "Why do you do this to me?" he asked at no one in particular. Sighing, he dug his hands back into his pocket and walked inside.

The atmosphere in the sitting room was hectic, and many of the guests had spilled outside to the patio or the living room, where everyone was gathering and exchanging the latest gossip. Draco didn't understand why women felt a need to constantly get together and talk about each other; it was a little bit juvenile. He wanted nothing to do with any of it. He sought out Melana, who was standing next to Pansy with a smug expression on her face. Pansy skipped away again when Draco neared the pair. He scowled in her general direction.

"She told you," he stated.

"Yep."

"Peachy," he said sarcastically, staring at the mountain of gifts instead of Melana's overly excited face.

"You act as though I'm a horrible girl, or something."

"You're not," he tried to explain. It was hard to get a coherent thought out with all the screaming. And besides, there was too much fuss going on over Melana. It wasn't the time for a serious conversation. "Look, we'll talk about this after. I have a headache."

"Me too," she chimed in, laughing. "But okay. Are you staying?" She gave him a pout. He sighed.

"Yes, I'll sit right here." He sat down on the chair next to Melana's. She smiled with a row of straight teeth and called attention to herself. Everyone gathered in front of her, and the gift opening began.

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After the entire ridiculous process was over, Draco stood solemnly behind Melana as everyone slowly trailed out the door. Opening the gifts had taken over three hours, and then there had been tea and cookies and talking and more talking. It was excessive. Draco was tired, and pretty annoyed, and couldn't wait for all of these women to leave the house. Melana had already said that he was free to go home and come back, but his house was empty anyways (his mother was here), so there was no point to being lonely. When he was alone, he got upset.

His hand rested on the small of Melana's back, showing support for her as everyone trailed by slowly. Not daring to look down, Draco could imagine the small smile spread on Melana's features. Although he hadn't a desire in him to truly be with her, he knew that it made her happy to see him so supportive of her. It was the least he could do; he was an adult now.

For a moment, Draco wondered what his father would have done, had he been in his position. Probably, he would have been a man and done exactly what Draco had done, and hoped for the best. But Lucius had never cheated on Narcissa, the way that Draco had so wronged Hermione, and in such a big way. Part of him wished that his father was alive, so he could have asked for his guidance. But the other part of him knew what the answer would be. Melana over some mudblood filth any day. He shook his head.

After everyone was gone, Melana sighed in relief and Draco slouched into a chair, surrounded by a mountain of gifts. Melana's mother and her house elves were flitting about, putting things neatly into boxes and towing them away, or cleaning up wrapping paper, cards, and bows. Draco had never seen so much baby blue in one room in his entire existence. At least it would be a baby boy.

"So, we haven't really talked about names," Melana admitted sheepishly, and Draco shrugged. He didn't seem to think he had any sense of input into this.

"Whatever you want," he suggested, swiping his long hair out of his eyes. The shaggy tips of his blonde locks were now at his shoulders in the back, and past his nose in the front. He'd have to cut it, probably this week sometime.

"Draco, this is serious!" she whined. He glanced over. She seemed pretty serious to Draco. He wanted to groan, but he refrained.

"Alright. Well, did you have any ideas?"

"Kind of…"

"Shoot, then."

"Well, do you want to name it after your father? Lucius?"

Draco barked. "Absolutely not. I won't have my son's name tainted with the memory of that name. No, no. Choose something else," he demanded. "Please," he tacked on at the end, softly.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asked softly, avoiding his eyes. He chuckled lightly.

"You're asking the wrong person. But, I've always liked the name Breckin."

She thought on that for a second. "Breckin?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Yeah. I like it."

"You're so easy Melana," Draco replied, lounging back in the leather chair. She giggled.

"Only for you." She winked. Draco chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair and then looking away. He didn't know how to respond to that, and either way, he didn't want her to get the wrong idea. And he knew that this was leading towards a conversation that he'd much rather be avoiding.

"So, about earlier…"

"Melana, you know Pansy. She's a conclusion-jumper. Now that isn't to say that I don't… particularly care about you, I do. It's just a little complicated. I've always liked you as a person, even before Pansy and I got together last summer. It's just… always bad timing, right?"

"Yeah, but, you've been so good to me."

"It's my responsibility, Melana. But I cannot give you what you want. I really wish it was that simple, because I want to make you happy. But I can't make you and I both happy. I'm not even happy now, Melana, but that isn't your fault. I made a choice. And I'm happy that if it had to be anyone, it was you. You're so… sweet, to me." He paused. "But I can't give you my heart. Someone else has it."

"It's been months," she grumbled, looking at the white gift boxes rather than Draco. He sighed.

"I know, but… that kind of feeling doesn't go away. When you find someone like that, you'll understand me."

"What if that's you?" she asked, her cheeks going pink.

"It's not," he assured her. "Trust me. Some guy other than me will find you and appreciate you the way you deserve to be, and you'll forget all about me. Until then, I'm here to support you, and be the father to your… our, child. But I don't want this to be a… shotgun wedding, or anything."

She nodded slowly. "You're probably right.," she replied morosely.

"I know I'm right."

There was a long pause, and then, "Have you talked to her?"

He looked away. "No. I don't think she wants to see me."

"But, you haven't even…" she started, but Draco cut her off.

"Can you just drop it, please?"

Melana didn't say anything, and the pair was quiet for a few minutes before Melana got up and walked out of the room. Draco felt embarrassed, and could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, even as he tried to fight them. This no good feeling of remorse and sadness was too much for him. Pansy was right; it had been months, and he needed to work on getting his life back together. As much as it pained him, Draco needed to focus his efforts elsewhere. Quidditch tryouts would be helpful, he reasoned, as he could direct his anger and pent-up emotions into a game he loved.

So when the tryouts loomed closer and closer, Draco was feeling much better. He spent the next few days avoiding Melana and working on his seeking skills at his own home. The girl stopped by a few times and watched, but the two barely communicated at all. She would sit in the sun and watch Draco fly circles around for hours, and finally she'd give him a kiss on the cheek goodbye and head home.

The morning of the Cannons' tryouts, Draco woke up early and got ready hastily. He needed to be at the pitch by noon, but he wanted to stretch and fly for awhile beforehand. He ended up eating breakfast at eight and flying around his backyard for a few hours, just to warm up. Afterwards, he stretched his muscles properly and jogged around his house a few time to get his adrenaline pumping. Finally, when he felt ready, he apparated with his broomstick to the pitch.

Loud shouts greeted him, and he smiled, feeling right at home. After finding the coach of the team and getting his number, he joined the queue of Seekers trying out. There were only a few others with him, because most of the crowd was here to try out for the Chaser position, as there were two spots open. The rest of the team was in the stands with quills and parchment, and they would help the coach judge the recruits. The reserve team was there also, Draco noticed. He could see Ron's red hair in the group.

The Seekers watched as the Chasers flew around, passing the Quaffle to one another and taking shots on the Keeper. Then Ron got up from the stands and guarded the other hoops, and the Chasers trying out separated into teams and played a pick up match against each other, each side getting only one Beater. It was interesting to watch, and Draco found himself choosing the best Chasers out of the bunch with his own critiques. When they were finally done, the Seekers high-fived the hard-working recruits as the exited the pitch, sweaty and tired.

Then Ron passed by, giving Draco a death stare while wiping sweat off his brow. Draco tried to look away but he found that he couldn't. Ron's anger seemed as red hot as his hair, and Draco knew that he hadn't been forgiven; not one bit. It shook him to see that rage in Hermione's best friend's eyes, but there was nothing Draco could do about it. He'd have to channel his nervousness into skill while out on the pitch.

Once the Chasers cleared off, and both Keepers had resumed their seats in the stand, Ron still glaring at Draco hard, the Seekers were called onto the pitch. Draco took a deep breath and mounted his broom, flying into the sky high. After the Seekers did a few laps around the pitch, the coach called them down to give them directions. Nervousness flooded throughout his veins, but he wasn't sure why. Quidditch always provided thrills, not nerves. Perhaps it had something to do with Ron being present, or the fact that Draco could make a huge fool of himself.

"Listen up," the coach started, and Draco turned his attention to the man's words. "The first round will be a free-for-all. All five of you will chase the snitch. Whomever catches it will sit out the first round of head-to-heads."

Everyone nodded, and he continued. "The remaining four will be paired off randomly. Each duo will compete to catch the snitch. The two that are victorious will move on. The one with the fastest time will sit out the next round. The player who sat out the head-to-heads will face the recruit who had the slower time. The winner of that snitch chase will compete in the finals versus the recruit with the fastest catch time during the duels. Is that clear?"

Draco nodded and could see that the faces of the other possible players were nervous. At least he wasn't the only one. "The winner of this tournament, so to speak, will be our Seeker. The runner-up will come on the team as a reserve. Let's get going."

Draco's stomach was in knots, although he knew that if he caught the snitch this time, he would have fewer rounds to fight through. All of the players lined up and the coach released the snitch. Draco's eyes followed it until the sun absorbed its' golden color, and Draco looked away, waiting for the whistle. When it sounded, he kicked off the ground, trying not to focus on anybody else. His eyes immediately began searching the skies, flying around in random directions, desperate for any hint of the gold.

After about five minutes, he heard a gasp, and a roar from the small crowd and cursed. He knew someone had caught the ball other than himself, and then he heard the whistle. He flew down to the coach and a player standing beside him, looking very smug. Draco scowled and looked away, angry with himself.

"Alright. Crowley here found the snitch, so he'll sit out the next round. Simmons and Farley, you two will go head-to-head first." Two boys stepped forward, leaving Draco to face the only girl competitor. "Malfoy and Givvins, you two will be the second group."

Draco nodded and shook hands with the girl next to him, and then the two took their place on the sidelines. Sitting down, he tried to zone out, concentrating on the task ahead. If he didn't catch the snitch, he'd be out of the running. If he got the fastest time, he'd be guaranteed a spot on the team, whether it be reserve or the front man. Unfortunately, either way, he'd be stuck practicing with Ron Weasley for the next year or more of his life. The thought made him gag a bit.

A piercing whistle awoke him from his thoughts and brought him back to the pitch. "Excellent job Simmons, you'll be moving on. Farley; you're out. Thanks for coming out for the team," the coach said, and Draco stood. His stomach felt twisted, but he put on a mask of cockiness and smirked to the crowd, to show he was ready.

The coach's whistle blew once more and Draco kicked off the ground, soaring into the air and right into the sunlight. Blinking against the rays of sunlight, he battled his way across the pitch, doing two quick laps to loosen him up and try to catch a glimpse of the snitch. One eye stayed focused on the girl, also circling the pitch, and the other swiveled around wildly, looking for the gold. His broom couldn't help him here, as his enemy also was riding a Firebolt. Draco was worrying, as he flew, that time was passing by quickly. The other boy had caught the snitch in under ten minutes, and Draco knew that time was ticking.

Then he saw it; a quick flash of the wings, yards away from him, closer to the girl. But she hadn't seen it; she was looking in the opposite direction. Draco took off, following the path of the gold, and he was ahead of the girl now, flying past her, right behind the flight of the snitch… and she was catching up, her lesser weight helping her fly faster than Draco, but his hand was outstretched, and the winged ball was so close… his fingers closed on air, and he missed it, but so had the girl.

He pushed forward now, not afraid to fight dirty, and looped around the girl slightly as the two both banked left, and Draco was on the inside now, closer to the ball… Gavvins came up closer to him and he kicked out and felt purchase on her leg. There was a shriek of pain and it was all over, the ball struggling in Draco's palm, and the sound of the whistle. Gavvins, the other Seeker, was grimacing against the pain in her shit where Draco's boot had made contact, but Quidditch was a nasty sport.

"Good snag, Malfoy. You had the fastest time, as well, so you'll sit out this round."

Draco smiled, taking a deep breath and sitting down. He could see Ron's mouth turning down in the stands, and he chucked the redhead the finger. He received one back in return, but didn't care. If everything went alright in the next round, he would be joining the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team, and be stuck around the annoying weasel for months of hard training. At least there would be a chance he'd get injured and Draco could watch, and laugh.

The final match up ended up being Draco versus the boy Crowley, and Draco easily outraced his old Nimbus 2001. He was all smiles when the coach told him that he'd made the team, and Crowley shook his hand, happy that he had at least taken the reserve spot. The coach called the rest of the team down to shake hands with the two Seekers, and then went off to decide which Chasers would be making the squad; a much more difficult and elaborate process.

"Well Weasley," Draco said as the rest of the team started to trickle off the pitch, "looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together."

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy, before I shut it –"

"Ronald, is everything a fight with you?" someone asked, cutting him off. Draco wheeled around and his heart nearly stopped. His jaw definitely dropped a little, and then his heart rate sped up. He felt a little sick.

"Hermione, it's Malfoy, he—" Ron complained, but Hermione shushed him.

"Your mother wants you home, she sent me for you."

Ron grumbled a little bit, staring hard at Draco and then Hermione and then apparated away. Draco tried to look at anything but Hermione, but the grass wasn't all too interesting and he really missed the look of her angelic face and the way her chocolate eyes just drew him in…

"So," he choked out, scuffing his boots into the ground, "came to see Ron at his first team event?"

There a silence, a small movement, and then Hermione was right next to him. "Honestly?" she asked, and he didn't need to look to know that she was crying.

"Yes honestly."

"I knew I would see you."

"You knew I'd be here?" he asked. "How… Blaise? Have you been talking to Blaise?"

"Harry has been talking to Blaise, not me. They work together." Draco had forgotten that Blaise was also studying to be an Auror. And Potter would be talking to him… and maybe Blaise had been bragging. So, Harry had gone and told Hermione, of course.

"So you came to see me." It wasn't a question, and he didn't expect a response.

"I had to see you, I… wanted to know how you're doing."

"Blaise didn't tell Harry that, then," he said sharply, and he could see the words hurt Hermione. He hadn't meant to sound so angry, but he was, and seeing her was only making him more confused.

"Don't get angry with me, Draco Malfoy. If anyone has a reason to be angry, it's me. Not you."

"I know," he said, trying to be soothing. He reached out but she swatted his hand away, wiping away her own tears.

"I miss you," she admitted, but she wouldn't look at him. He could feel teardrops leaking into his eyes, and he was happy that she wasn't staring, because he didn't want her to see him crying.

"I miss you too."

"Are you and Melana…?"

"No." It left no reason for discussion.

"I just thought that maybe… you and her."

He took a deep breath. "No. What about you… anyone else?"

She was quiet for a long time, looking at the sky as if it held the answer. He didn't want to push her, but he couldn't understand why she was being so quiet. What did she have to hide? Draco was nervous that maybe her and Ron were getting back together, or any number of the men that she was working with had made a move on her.

"There's nobody else. There never will be."

Her words brought a mixture of swelling happiness and deep, deep pain. He didn't know what she was saying, but he knew that, by her words, she was telling him that she still loved him. And he wanted to grab her, hug her, kiss her, bring her home and just spend time with her… But he also knew it couldn't be like that.

"I-I'm sorry I messed everything up."

"I've forgiven you. I regret the decision I made, to leave you. Everyday. I wish we had worked it out… but I don't know if there would have been a way to do it." She suddenly locked eyes with him. "You're going to have a baby, Draco, and not with me. And that… kills me."

He swallowed hard. "I want to work it out… I want… no, need, to prove to you that you still are the most important person to me." He couldn't believe that he was saying this, that all of this was happening. He had just hoped to be able to see her, one more time, and now they were talking. His head was spinning.

"Draco…" her voice faltered. Tears spilled from her eyes and she put her head in her hands.

"Don't cry," he said, pulling her closer, and she allowed him this comfort, and his hands slowly reached up and cupped her face, smoothing the tears away. Black lines made their way down her cheeks, eyeliner running like little streams on her pale skin.

"Can we just… try to work this out? Slowly?" he asked, knowing how pathetic his own voice sounded. She looked up at him, hiccupping a little bit.

"Just fucking kiss me, you prick."

And his lips crashed onto hers once again.

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A/n- Finally done that chapter! Just as a side note: She IS NOT taking him back with welcome arms. That's all I'm saying. REVIEW!