"That's not fair, Brynn—"

"Mum, why are you crying?"

She spun in a tight circle; the voice had come from the doorway of the store. She pushed a teenage girl out of the way, rushing toward it. A dark-haired young man stood with his arm firmly on the shoulder of a little blonde boy—

"Colm!"

She wrapped the boy in a tight hug. "Oh thank Merlin you're alright—"

"He said he was looking for his dad," said Harry Potter, smiling faintly. "Hey, George."

"Hiya, Harry!" George smiled. "Listen, thanks for getting him—"

"No problem." Harry's gaze went to Malfoy and his eyebrows lifted. "Malfoy?"

"Potter," Draco spat. His arms folded over his chest.

"Be nice to him," said George, glaring. "He just found your son."

"I don't need to be nice to him—" began Draco in disgust.

"Your son?" Harry eyed Brynn. "So when he said 'daddy', he meant…Malfoy?"

Brynn, meanwhile, had whirled on Draco accusingly. "You. You son of a bitch. You waltz into my son's life making half-baked promises and you can't even watch him for ten minutes. If Harry hadn't been here—"

"Oh, please, Hether," said Draco, reverting back to calling her by her surname. "Don't treat Potter like such a hero."

"How could I ever think of trusting you with him! I should have known!" She pulled Colm closer against her, the young boy staring up at the two of them.

"Mum, Daddy, stop yelling!" he cried.

"I don't know what I was thinking," she hissed, unheeded by her son. "You don't deserve to be a part of Colm's life, Malfoy. I never should have let him see you in the first place."

"I didn't do anything so terrible—" Draco's face had gone red from anger and humiliation.

"You have no idea what it's like to raise a child!"

"How can I?" he roared. "You kept him from me for four years—"

"You didn't even bother to look for us!" Her voice cracked, hoarse with emotion.

Harry observed her silently, sadly. In school, this girl had been as emotional as a block of ice. What had happened to her?

"Harry," she said, swallowing. "I can't thank you enough. For the recommendation, for helping Colm…I'll send you an owl soon, I promise. George, I'll talk to you later. I think it's best if Colm and I go home."

"Fine," snapped Draco. "Run away. You've become a coward, Hether."

She glared at him with everything she could muster and said two little words before Disapparating: "Fuck you."


Three days passed. Draco went through the motions with Astoria and ignored his mother's initial suspicions.

Brynn took care of her son and ignored Colm's wishes to see "Daddy" again.

After the fourth day, however, Draco found it suddenly unbearable, and that afternoon Brynn's owl flew through the little cottage window with a very small, square letter.

Dear Brynn,

My actions at the Weasley shop, and my subsequent reaction to your reaction, are inexcusable. I am deeply apologetic for any hurt I've caused you in the past and

Those lines were crossed out, and what followed below was:

To hell with it. I have an enormous amount of pride, as you should probably be aware by now, so I'm not good with apologies. I realize in hindsight that I wasn't very responsible with Colm. But for Merlin's sake, can you honestly expect a bloke to be in his right mind just after he's told that he's got a kid? I had a life after you. Granted a very confusing, dramatic, and now actually quite dull life, but a life nonetheless.

I know you think you don't owe me anything and you're probably right about most. You don't owe me anything more than an explanation and some time with my son. I owe you an explanation as well, I believe. One I am prepared to give you, but only in person. If you'll join me for dinner out, I will gladly answer any questions you have about the past. If you'd rather we didn't speak of the past, I'd still like to meet in person to discuss the matter of our son.

Yours, Draco Malfoy

Brynn threw the letter onto the kitchen counter with a huff. Pretentious bastard. But her heart softened slightly as it occurred to her that maybe that was his best way of apologizing, and he had swallowed his pride for Colm. He'll just have to build my trust back up if he wants time with Colm.

She nodded to herself. It's settled then. I'll go to one dinner.


Draco observed himself in the mirror. He smoothed down his hair, making sure it was perfectly gelled in place, when he suddenly remembered that, in school, Brynn had hated it plastered down.

"I never understood," he remembered distinctly in her strange monotone, "the needs of society to make themselves look 'better' by faking their appearance."

It had happened on a day when he was particularly slow in leaving afterwards. She had pulled absently at a blonde strand, his hair tousled by her hands running through it while he pounded into her—A shudder went through his body as he pulled his mind away from dirty thoughts of their encounters and focused instead on the memory.

"Faking?" he had repeated, making a face at her and her way of speaking.

"Yes, faking. Your hair doesn't naturally lie that flat, that's why you are forced to use so much gel. Girls do not naturally have kohl lining their eyes, their hair does not naturally change each day from curly to straight. They force themselves to look like that."

"So you never wear makeup?"

"I see no need for lipstick, rouge or eyeshadow. I don't desire to bear resemblance to a clown. You ought to stop gelling your hair so much. You look just as handsome, perhaps even more so, with it in its natural messy state."

Draco smiled wryly at himself in the mirror. Odd that he would remember what seemed like such a meaningless conversation at the time. It was just a reminder that so much had changed. She hardly talked like that anymore. Everything that had made the extremely pretty Slytherin girl 'unlovable' had been removed…yet she seemed more unapproachable than ever.

He reached a hand up and mussed his hair gently, but it still seemed too weighed down from the gel. He sighed, lifting his wand, and said, "Scourgify," cleaning the thick gunk from his hair. When he shook his head, the blonde locks fell into a ruffled-looking do. I look like bloody Potter. He winced, brushed it down a few times, and once confident he didn't look like a homeless man, he exited the room.

"Where are you off to?" said Narcissa, catching him in the foyer on his way out. Her eyes were slightly narrowed.

"I have dinner with an old school friend," he said, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He could practically hear his father, Stop fiddling with it. Malfoys don't fidget.

"A school friend," his mother repeated tonelessly. But she didn't say anything more, and Draco headed off.


This was a dumb idea.

Brynn walked into the fancy wizard restaurant feeling utterly stupid. She had bought a new dress for the night, successfully buying into all the garbage about appearances that she had denounced just a few short years ago. Merlin, I hope he doesn't remember that conversation. I'll feel like a fool.

The dress was a shimmering black, floor-length, silky and flowing. It was strapless, with an open back and, she realized only after she bought it, a large slit up the one side. She didn't feel stupid in the dress. Actually, the dress made her feel sexier than she'd felt since before she got pregnant. It was the restaurant. It was the people.

In particular, it was the person she was meeting.

Draco saw her and stood, like a proper gentlemen—Well of course, Narcissa wouldn't have let him go anywhere unless he at least followed proper etiquette—and she held back a triumphant grin as he stared at her.

"You look…" He cleared his throat as subtly as he could. "Is that a new dress?"

"Perhaps," she said slyly, grinning with satisfaction. That is, until she was fully able to take in his attire. In fact, she took the time to take him in as a whole.

When she'd seen him in school, his muscle mass had finally been filling out his slight frame, but he had still looked somewhat sickly. Now, while he was still a thin man, his shoulders had gotten slightly broader, and she knew there had to be toned muscle underneath that shirt. She wondered briefly about his…ahem, package…but banished the thought from her mind before she giggled like a schoolgirl. His hair was mussed, not as perfectly down as it usually was, and she found she liked it.

As for his attire…Draco had always looked nice when he cleaned up and went formal, that was a given. But he had almost always wore either black or white during school, never color. Tonight, his shirt was a deep green silk material, button down, with a black tie and pants. The green color made his eyes pop, and once she looked into those mysterious grey storm clouds, she felt herself start to sink.


I am royally fucked.

Draco kept his smile in place, if only to keep his jaw from dropping. She was stunning. True, she was always beautiful, there was just something about her—but the dress just screamed, 'I dare you to rip this off of me'.

I have no doubts she'll still be that beautiful when the dress is on my bedroom floor—

He shook himself out of it. Don't think like that. She's here to talk.

Then why does she have to look so fucking irresistible? She did this on purpose.


He did this on purpose.

Brynn reached him, smiling faintly, and said, "Thank you for being mature about this."

He swallowed noticeably. "Of course."


A/N: well, well. what shall happen? review please! :D