Chapter 4:

AN: Sorry for the delay I've had some computer issues but I have a new laptop now so we should be good!

Draco advanced on his ex-fiancée, unable to hide the threatening tone from his voice as he avoided looking at the child she held. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Her audience was gone now, but Astoria still sniffled, before fixing him with an iron glare. "Don't talk like that in front of your son. Honestly! All I've ever done is love you, and this is how you repay me?"

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Draco exclaimed, "all you've ever done is lie! Why should this time be any different?"

"Look at him," said Astoria simply. "Really look at him." Making a huffing noise, Draco acquiesced, hoping it would get her to shut up. She passed him the child, and he looked down, only to see his eyes mirrored exactly. Abi shared a lot of his features and with this boy it was the other way around. Besides those eyes, there was nothing he recognised as his own- but there was no mistaking those eyes. "His name's Scorpius." He looked back up at Astoria, smug victory in her expression. A constellation; she knew that was the tradition of his maternal family.

Draco turned as he heard a commotion on the stairs. Racing over, he put a hand on the front door to block Granger as she tried to leave through it. Her reluctant gaze followed up his arm to his eyes, glancing back at the two children before she mediated her speech "move out of the way you... evil bellend." He raised an eyebrow, but unwilling to give up, took her arm. She looked at it with an expression sort of... disgusted? Frustrated? From behind her, Abi reached out for the toddler Draco was still holding in the arm not on Granger's.

"Can I play with him?"

Leaping on the opportunity, Draco smiled and set him down carefully. "Of course!" The two children quickly began to interact, and with a sigh acknowledging that she wouldn't be able to get away for a little while, Granger acquiesced, following him into the sitting room. As he pushed the door shut behind them, he saw a grinning Astoria making herself at home on a chaise lounge well away from the children.

The differences between the two of them were stark. Granger didn't head for the largest most silken furniture, but seated herself instead on the simplest armchair, folding her arms over her chest in a gesture that told him you have two minutes and no more. Very well. "Many Purebloods, at least before the war, seek alliances early on. Financial, political, social; all aims achieved in one betrothal between their children. Aged eight, a contract was drawn up for the engagement of myself and seven year old Astoria. Every year from then on we never saw each other, save for the obligatory dance at my family's annual festive ball. Even when she came to Hogwarts she'd try to catch my eye sometimes with her simpering and I'd nod politely at her but try to avoid her as much as possible." He struggled to keep the disdain out of his voice, but Granger could obviously hear it. "My friend, her older sister, Daphne had given me a lot of cautionary tales about her. It didn't matter in the end; when my father was sent to Azkaban Lord Greengrass immediately cut all arrangements off. But as fate had it, or so I thought, we reunited a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, seated next to each other at a Quidditch match. I didn't want to talk to her, but she began a conversation, and I was pleasantly surprised by the interest she seemed to show in the sport after my history with her along with Daphne's usually reliable information told me she wasn't invested in anything but the superficial. We decided to meet up again and soon I was addicted, despite everything my family and friends said against her." He doubted Granger knew anything of her. They weren't in the same year at school, and Astoria was an heiress, without any resolve so unlike Daphne who actually used her money to help people, she mostly just swanned about. There was no reason, except for this one, why their paths should have crossed. "We didn't date for that long before I popped the question, and she excitedly agreed before I even finished my prepared speech, grabbing the ring and slipping it onto her finger before I could put it on for her. She didn't look at me for about a week," he chuckled without mirth. "Mesmerised by the glittering stones. In fact, maybe she never looked at me again. She thought she'd achieved it all. I was always looking at her. And she was in. But then I was out." He'd been sitting opposite Granger, but he couldn't sit still any longer. A strange feeling was shaking him; he could practically see Astoria smirking behind his eyelids. A true Slytherin. He'd give her that. Getting to his feet, he began to pace. "My company started to struggle, and I woke up one morning, rolling over in bed, to find her side empty, and so were the cupboards." Granger's face fell with shame. It was clear she'd thought the situation had been reversed. "No, I never would have left Astoria, but now that there was a crack in me, my friend Blaise jumped straight into it. He's got a company of his own, and several spies on hand. He showed me moving pictures they'd taken that he knew I wouldn't have glanced at before. Now I saw them. Her throwing her arms around a suited man... and another. The transcript from an extendable ear conversation with a man who knew about me. They were mocking my stupidity. He was trying to do that to prove to her that he was better. Smarter. More worthy. I take some joy in the knowledge Blaise gave me that she didn't choose him as her next victim when she left me."

Granger got to her feet too, outraged red cheeks. "How do you know for certain he's yours then?"

"The eyes," Draco waved a dismissive hand. "But Granger, you have to know, I didn't know anything about him either. I would never have left either of my children if I knew about them, and I don't want to now. I want to get to know him, and Abi, and you."

"And Astoria?" She said blankly.

He scoffed. "I know more than I want to about her, but if that's what it takes to be with my son then I suppose. Could you deal with that?"

She nodded. "Of course. No, you should. Just uh..." she looked up at him. "Be careful." He nodded.

As Hermione had promised, she took Malfoy down to the village for the first time the next day. Astoria didn't show any excitement, and she would have been more than happy to leave the Slytherin behind, but Malfoy suggested it'd be a nice family activity. That didn't mean Astoria couldn't protest by wearing stilettos rather than wellies like the rest of them, but that only hurt her. "A muggle village," she muttered to Malfoy repeatedly, as if expecting him to turn around and take her home when she reached the magic number of repetitions. Mouth open in a perpetually 'ew' shape, she picked her way down the muddy footpath, holding her son out loosely as if he were a piece of jewellery. Hermione wanted to grab him before he inevitably fell, but she held strong and marched ahead to join Abi, who was skipping along singing to herself. "Eek!" Astoria suddenly screamed as she stepped into a puddle of mud, loosening her grip on her son even further- and thankfully Malfoy took him. The small satisfaction on her face suggested that was what she'd wanted the whole time.

"You might want to transfigure your shoes now," Hermione suggested, unable to disguise the exasperation from poisoning her voice. Astoria glared, but changed them to designer-like riding boots, a little better she supposed.

They'd reached the bottom of the hill and emerged into a picturesque little village. It wasn't anywhere near as bustling as Hogsmeade, and there were far less shops but there was a corner shop and a tea room. They went into the corner shop first; Scorpius kept pointing at a little Dumbledorelike wizard figurine muggles thought they all looked like, every time they went past it, so Malfoy bought it for him (with a little muggle money he surprisingly had at home and had taken out). He also got Abi a pack of her favourite sweets, white chocolate mice. She'd been worried about him trying to buy her daughter, but it wasn't like this was a fluorescent pink mini Mercedes Benz that cost thousands- it was only 50p! After the pit stop they moved on to the tea room for lunch. It was shockingly packed, and besides, Malfoy had miscalculated how much muggle money was worth and only brought a tenner. She collected everyone's orders and had them go save a big table while she ordered. There was a tall and fairly plump woman in front of her, so she didn't have much of a view ahead of her. But when the woman moved aside, Hermione felt a little faint when she saw the man a few feet away sipping a cup of tea. "Ron?" Her ex-boyfriend gave his stock shock expression, and leant over the kiosk as if he was going to reach out to feel her and ascertain whether or not she was real, dropping his cup back onto the saucer. "What are you doing here?"

"Ma'am," said a woman around her age with her hair in a messy bun and an apron tied around her waist. "Is there something you'd like to order?"

Hermione passed her the sheet of paper she'd scribbled their orders on, and added that she'd have a ham and cheese panini and a slice of red velvet cake. Staring at Ron after that mundane moment was incredibly odd. He seemed so utterly out of place, as if he were a cardboard cut out on the wrong set. "I'm passing through." He explained that he'd tried out for a Quidditch team but hadn't made it, so he'd moped around for a year or so before his mother threw him out, telling him he was ruining his life and needed to do something- anything! So he'd become a food critic for a Wizarding magazine that listed the best places for wizards to travel to experience the muggle culture.

"Where does this little establishment rank?" She asked with a chuckle.

He grinned that lopsided smile back at her. "You won't get any better brew."

"I'd better try it then," she said, meaning her own drink, of course, but he lifted up his own cup, offering her a sip. She reached out for it, but then, seemingly of its own volition, the cup tipped backwards and spilled all over Ron's front, sending him crashing backwards in surprise and banging his head on the wall, slumping downwards. Hermione briefly glanced backwards- it had almost seemed magical- and saw Malfoy's head snap slightly to face Astoria. She didn't have time to be disappointed in him as she jumped down to cup Ron's face with her hands, inspecting the damage. His eyes were still shut, and for a moment she whispered his name in a panic, but they slowly fluttered open and he moaned "ow." She laughed in relief, despite the seriousness on his face as he added "my mum was right. I had been messing up my life. Especially when I stupidly left you." That cut her off, and she just stared at him in silence for a moment. It was almost a relief when Ron clutched his head with an exaggerated expression of pain.

"It doesn't look like you have a bump, but you shouldn't be by yourself for the next few hours, just in case."

"I am," he said quickly. "By myself. I'm staying in a Bed and Breakfast. It's a bit of a hovel but it was only for a couple of days."

She glanced over at the others. "Don't be silly. Come back with us."

Ron's eyes widened a little and he reached out to put a steadying hand on her arm. "Am I hallucinating, or is that Ferretface?"

"The very one." How to explain? She didn't want him going off on her again like when she told him she was pregnant. At the time she'd thought, how much worse would it have been if he knew who the father was? Seemed she was about to find out. Maybe simplicity was the best approach. "He's, um, my daughter's dad."

Ron's eyes widened to the size of bludgers; his typically comical reaction seeming even larger than usual. Probably just because she hadn't seen it in so long. The ginger's eyes crossed to the little blonde girl teaching her father how to play tic-tack-toe. "Godric... she's so old. What's her name?"

Well that was unexpected, but certainly refreshingly mature. She'd never have thought Ron would focus on Abi rather than Malfoy. Maybe he really had taken his mother's advice and grown up.

Draco felt a burning feeling in his stomach as he watched the Weasel interacting with Granger. What was he doing here? From what she'd told him, it sounded as though he'd been terribly unsupportive. Neither she nor Abi needed that type of energy now they were doing so well. It was an impulse to spill that tea, and he hadn't done it with any force. There was no reason the Weasel should have flown backwards at all, but he looked away guilitily anyway, regardless of his confusion. "Jealous Drake?" Asked Astoria, leaning in on her hand with a Circe-like leer.

"I just don't want him ruining my family," he muttered under his breath.

"I thought that was my job," she said, and he looked at her in surprise because this was spoken in a jocular tone, not catty or self-indulgent, but friendly, trying to amuse him rather than just herself. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard her speak in such a way, nor was that small smile familiar. It was far too subtle for her, it wouldn't have been visible on a stage, and she always behaved as if she expected a live studio audience were watching.

Draco fixed his eyes on her coldly. "What are you up to?"

She sighed, sounding genuinely exhausted. "Why do I always have to have an agenda regarding you?"

"I don't know Tori, you tell me." He snapped out the nickname before he knew what he was doing. Needing time to collect himself before he slipped even further into the trap she was surely setting up, he turned to play some hand game with his daughter, blocking Astoria out as her usual sounds of boredom resumed.

Predictions? ;)