Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the Harry Potter characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling.

WARNING: Rating M (for readers aged 16 years+). Mature themes. Do not continue to read if you do not like this.

[Thank you for your reviews! I know the story so far has revolved around smutty writing but now I want to begin to peel away the layers of the plot…So the following chapter is written from Draco's POV…There is a mixture of real plot and my own twist to the story. Please continue to review! P.s. all writing in italics is what the character is thinking].

Chapter nine – Hospital

Flashback to 3 years ago;

Draco's POV

I love you. I've always loved you. Draco's mind wandered as he held his beautiful new born son in his arms looking over to her resting in the hospital bed. Her golden brown curls flowed either side of her cheeks off of the sides of the bed. A peaceful lioness. His son then began to stir awake making soft gentle moans. Draco tired to shush him as gently as he could whilst rocking on his heels forwards and backwards. She looks as still as she did when she was petrified by the basilisk. The thought pained Draco's chest, the thought that that day could have been the day he lost her. Hermione Jean Malfoy, I have loved you since the moment I met you. He thought with a small smile appearing on his lips. An old memory of their first encounter washed over him….

1990. The year Draco was purposely striding up and down Diagon Alley behind his father's cloak. He felt he needed to walk with pride or no one would respect him. His father walked him into each shop and put together a pile of necessary belongings into Draco's arms; spell books, a brand-new cloak, shoes and all the trimmings. Draco felt powerful. He admired his reflection in a shop window just as his father did a few paces ahead of him. He was a Malfoy. He needed to act like a Malfoy. He needed to make his father proud. Just as he was trying to seem as if he was pleased with his reflection he noticed her. A mound of bushy brown hair. Draco felt like he should be revulsed but he felt intrigued. He watched as she softly wondered around the book shop, her eyes wide open with awe and glee. He could swear he saw her eyes sparkle with joy. The vision of her made him smile to himself.

"What are you looking at?" his father scorned him breaking Draco's attention away from the girl.

"Nothing father, I was just making sure..I..I look presentable" Draco fumbled his words but tried to sound as honest as possible. The most believable lies stem from the truth.

"Come along Draco" Lucius purred and walked purposely off towards his final stop…Oliveander's. Draco had never felt so overwhelmed. He tried to mask his pure delight and astonishment at the man's talents and nose for wands. Once he claimed his wand it felt like the final pieces of a puzzle had been connected. He felt complete.

"Stop smiling like that son, people will think you're a pansy" Lucius sneered. Draco quickly wiped his face of any glee and tried to remain cold, just as his father constantly presented. All he wished for was to make his father proud. To show his father he was a true Malfoy and deserving of the name.

As Draco returned to the present he was glistening with reminiscence. He slowly placed Scorpius into the cot beside Hermione and sat in a large armchair. He let his muscles relax as he closed his eyes allowing another memory to take him away to another time….

1990. First day at Hogwarts. Draco knew how important it was to make a good impression. He had overheard his father in hushed discussions with other Wizards about 'the boy who lived' who wore a 'scar on his forehead'. Draco knew under his father's orders that he needed to try to befriend the boy. Harry Potter. As Draco stepped off the train he stood with his 'friends' Crabbe and Goyle. He was told by his father he must consider them 'friends' due to the need for Lucius to better his connection with their fathers, but he found their company utterly unstimulating. Whenever they saw each other, they followed him around like lap dogs so Draco stepped into the position of power his father would have expected of him. He knew he needed allies to survive 7 years of school but he did not imagine he would be a leader, he just fell into the role based on power dynamics.

Draco has heard whispers on the train of Harry Potter. He was not sure if the rumours were true but once he encountered Potter on the steps of Hogwarts he knew he needed to make an impression. Trust a Weasley to ruin it. His father had tried to instil Draco with ideas of superiority based on blood purity. Draco, was not ruined by prejudice at the tender age of eleven, having few interactions with Wizards or witches his own age and all those lonely years wondering around the Manor trying to befriend servants before they were 'let go' because his father discovered their friendship and didn't want Draco mixing 'with those sorts'. Draco was looking forward to befriending Harry Potter, perhaps he would be a Wizard who could match his abilities. Draco did not think he would be rejected. He had tried to be like his father in that moment and hoped his charm would entice Potter, just as his father's charm enticed many of his friends. Draco had been wrong. He felt like he was a disappointment to his father in that moment.

Then there was the sorting ceremony. Draco begged and pleaded with the sorting hat to place him in Slytherin. Anything else and his father would "banish" him were his exact words. Draco felt a sense of relief wash over him when his house was named. As he sat with a table of fellow students, he felt welcomed. He knew it was because of his name. He knew he needed to live up to it. He sneered as Weasley was placed into Gryffindor copying the responses of the students on his table. He needed to fit in. He needed to be powerful. Then suddenly, it was her. The girl from the bookshop. He tried to hide the soft smile that spread across his lips when an older Slytherin student tapped his arm.

"Stop gawking, she's a Mudblood, we don't mix with her kind" he sneered and laughed viciously. Draco tired to join in with the laughter but all the light that shone from her overwhelmed him. How could such a beautiful Witch be a Mudblood? He felt comfortable using the term as his father said it so freely. His father instructed him not to make any alignment with any muggle born witches or wizards. His father told him it would dirty the family name. He couldn't let his father down. He couldn't be the reason for the downfall of the Malfoys because of a stupid girl. He forbade himself from looking at her with kindness. He forbade himself but he could not totally let her go.

Draco's eyes burst open as his son cried out. He quickly stood and cradled him. He looked back to Hermione who sat staring blankly at them.

"It's okay, he's okay" Draco whispered. Hermione did not respond. Draco thought she had seemed very vacant and unresponsive since Snape's visit to the Manor. He was assured it was just a side effect of pregnancy and childbirth. Enough is enough. This is not the Hermione I was promised.

Draco touched his dark mark and sent out a call for Snape. Whilst he waited for Snape's arrival, he travelled into his memories once again whilst softly cooing Scorpius in his arms….

1993. Second year of Hogwarts. Draco was 13 years old. He'd spent the past three years trying to build up a name for himself in Syltherin. He'd tried out for Quidditch even though he didn't particularly like flying. He knew Potter was trying out so he needed to try out too and beat him. He needed to be better than Potter or his father would disown him. Plus he knew if Potter was on the opposition, she would be there watching, supporting. The thought of her eyes on him made his heart flutter slightly. Then, there she was, she tried to confront him about his father's purchase of the Nimbus 2000 brooms for the entire Slytherin side. His father was pushy and insisted on the team having the best brooms, plus he wanted to win over the Slytherin captain's father's favours. When the girl confronted him, he knew in front of the team he needed to brush her off like dirt off his shoe or they would laugh at him and call him names. He mustered up the most revolting thing he could think of in response to her savvy comment and when the words "filthy little mudblood" slipped off his tongue he mentally scolded himself. He knew he had hurt her. But he knew his father would hurt him more so if he found out he showed 'weakness' to a muggle born witch. Especially since his father had warned him to stay away from the girl since rumours spread that Draco was watching her and got back to Lucius. Draco received 10 lashes from the belt on the back of the legs and the cruciatus curse for 30 seconds over the Christmas break for that mistake.

So Draco spent the next year watching her secretly. He noticed her routines, the smell of her perfume, the hours she spent reading in the library. He would sit in a quiet corner of the library and watch her discreetly. He would then pick up the book she had just read and skim read it. He needed to be as knowledgeable as her. He needed to be as powerful as her, if not more so. But he knew deep down her taste for new knowledge and wand magic far outweighed his abilities. Even if she was a muggle born, she was a fantastic witch.

1994. After years fascinatedly watching over her, his most intimate encounter with her was when she punched him in the face. He still felt the force of her fist when replaying the scene in his head. She was strong and ballsy. Qualities he loved. He tried to be as arrogant and cold as he could when he was around her and her horrid friends. He could never show her kindness or his father would plan her untimely death. To protect her, he had to act as if he hated her.

During Draco's teenage years his fascination with her went into turmoil when mixed with his pubescent hormones. He opened up to the one Professor he knew would be able to help…Snape.

"You called?" Snape stood in the middle of the hospital room as Draco's vision kicked back into the present.

"Sorry Professor…I mean Severus" Draco cough and cleared his throat, still feeling the raw emotion conjured from his memories in the back of his throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape responded slowly and calmly.

"She's not herself" Draco motioned towards Hermione's body, her eyes fixed on a picture of a meadow on the adjacent white wall.

"And the problem is…?" Snape replied nonchalantly.

"She's unresponsive, what happened to her?" Draco asked concerningly and continue to rock Scorpius in his arms.

"We can not discuss this here Mr Malfoy" Snape replied.

"Then where?" he asked in a hushed tone, slowly placing Scorpius into the cot and walking over to Snape.

"Sirius Black's family home" Snape replied quietly turning his body away from Malfoy ready to descend out of the large window.

"When?" Draco paced forwards towards his back.

"In one hour" Snape replied and with them he flew out of the room through the window.

Draco's head felt like it was spinning. Why can he not discuss it here and now? Why is she just staring at the wall? Draco slowly closed his eyes to try to relieve some tension and his thoughts wondered to the past once again….

1994. Fourth year at Hogwarts. The year of the Yule Ball. Draco felt like he watched her all evening, even more closely than usual. He had grown used to being in the shadows but now he could watch her descend the great staircase in the most memorising dress. He knew at that point he would not let anyone hurt her. He felt green with envy watching her being whisked around the dance floor. He wished he could feel the small of her waist. He bit the inside of his cheek to try to stop the excitement rushing over his body. He ran out of the room. Down the stairs. Towards Snape's office. He heard hushed voices. He assumed it was another student. When he then walked in and found Professor Dumbledore in Snape's office. Draco tried to shift his body out of the room but it was too late, Dumbledore had already spotted him.

"Ahh Mr Malfoy, were you not enjoying the dance? Dancing was never really my forte either" Dumbledore smiled.

"No sir, I needed to talk to Professor Snape" Draco bowed his head and looked at his shining shoes.

"Actually Mr Malfoy, we would like a word with you" Snape replied coldly.

Draco gulped as he listened to the men tell him their plans for the future of the Wizarding world. He blacked out after the words "the Dark Lord will be brought to life and you must join your father in being recruited into his ranks" slipped from Dumbledore's mouth.

As Draco's eye lashes fluttered awake and he opened his eyes he found the room in darkness. Shit. How long was I asleep for? Draco looked at his wristwatch and breathed out in relief. He had been asleep for 45 minutes. But that meant he had 15 minutes until he was required at the previous base of The Order. He took a sip of the bottled water on the side table. He walked over to Hermione, stroked a curl out of her face and kissed her cheek lightly. He then quietly pulled the light blanket over his son's chest and tucked him in. He then apparated out of the room to the family home of his ancestors.