Chapter 9
The years had passed peacefully. The Malfoys had accepted that Hermione was an integral part of Draco's life. The Weasleys had made their peace with Draco. Harry, Ron, and Draco met often for drinks following the work day. Hermione, Draco, and Gemma were happy.

"Post's here," Hermione said the moment Draco entered the kitchen. Breakfast was already on the table, and he sat down to eat before she handed him anything. Occasionally, he glanced up as she flipped through the various letters they had received. Her brows knitted together when she came across one particularly troubling letter. "It's anonymous."

Draco set down his fork and took the letter from her. "It's a paternity test," he said, his expression matching hers.

"Why has the name been blocked out though?" she wondered. Without thinking, she picked Gemma up from her booster seat and hugged her close. Someone obviously wanted their daughter, and that person would have to pry their sweet little girl from their cold, dead hands.

Draco shook his head; he had no answer to give. It seemed odd, even to him, that someone would send only partial results of a paternity test. And if the father was interested in contacting them, what would come next? His mind ran a mile a minute as thoughts of hearings before the Ministry for custody of Gemma ran rampant. He couldn't understand why the father would come forward now, almost three years after her birth. What would happen if another parent stepped into the fold? Whoever this man was had wanted nothing to do with her when Pansy was alive, and Draco planned to use that to their defense.

"I want to show this to my father's lawyers," Draco told her. He rose from his chair and moved over to her. One arm wound around her back, pulling her into his side, while his other hand rubbed Gemma's back. "Perhaps they could help us find out who sent this."

"I'll inquire with the Ministry. They might know something," Hermione replied, unable to pull her eyes away from Gemma. Draco nodded in agreement. Moments passed in silence as the small family comforted one another. "Draco, what if..."

"Don't," he cut her off. "You and me, we're her parents. She took her first steps for us, said her first words for us. We're the ones who take care of her and love her. This is our family, and I'll be damned if some stranger comes in and breaks that up."

The unfamiliar sensation of tears clouded Draco's vision as he spoke, and he was sure Hermione was crying too. He felt her tighten her one-armed grip around his waist, and then he heard the words he feared would never come - "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, softly kissing her lips. "And everything will be fine. I swear."

Draco sat nervously tapping his fingers against the mahogany table top. Twenty minutes prior, he had been escorted to the conference room he currently sat in, and his lawyer had possession of the paternity test. He sat up straighter each time someone passed by, hoping it would finally be someone who could help. When the door finally opened, Draco had to restrain himself from lunging at the man who had forced him to wait so long.

"You better have good news for me, Merryweather," he told the lawyer angrily.

Merryweather sighed and pulled out a seat, letting the folder in his hands drop to the table. "It's a pretty powerful charm, Mr. Malfoy."

"But you were able to reverse it," Draco prodded, feeling his temperature rise. Merryweather solemnly shook his head, diverting his gaze. Draco's fist connected with the table, eliciting a loud bang. "What the hell are we supposed to do now then?"

Merryweather sighed again and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Now, we wait," he said. Draco's mouth opened in protest, but Merryweather held up a hand to silence him. "A paternity test with no real information isn't much of a threat. We need to wait to see if whoever this is comes up with something else. There isn't much any of us can do with so little information."

Draco leaned back in his seat, suddenly feeling exhausted. "So you're telling me I have to sit and do nothing. Just pray that no one tries to take my daughter from me."

The lawyer gave another solemn nod. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy."

Both men pushed back their chairs and stood. But when Mr. Merryweather extended his hand as a courtesy, Draco stared at it angrily and walked out. His legs felt heavier with each step he took, and he suddenly found that it was hard to breathe in the stifling office building. His pace increased once he stepped out of the lift, his legs carrying him out into the sunny afternoon.

"I thought Malfoys never ran." Draco slowed and turned around to see who would dare speak to him with such a sarcastic and haughty tone of voice. Blaise Zabini ambled up to him with a wry smile on his olive-hued face.

Draco scowled at the sight of his former best friend. He wanted to tell him to go away, to wipe the stupid grin off his face, but no words would form on his tongue. Instead, he took to just walking away.

Blaise's grin widened as he fell into step beside Draco. "So, where are we going?" he asked. Draco didn't reply, but that didn't stop the barrage of questions Blaise threw his way. "So, you and Granger an item yet? How's Pansy's daughter? She's nearly two, right?"

The questions continued on until Draco could no longer stand to hear Blaise's voice. He stopped walking and turned on his friend. "Why do you even care?" Draco asked angrily. He wanted to hit Blaise, to make him feel some modicum of the pain he was currently feeling. "And she'll be three soon."

"She was my friend too, Draco," Blaise replied, a hint of sadness in his usually confident voice. His eyes were cast downward, and the smile he had previously worn was gone. "I feel bad about the way things changed with all of us after the war."

Draco sighed, feeling a headache coming on. "Come by the house," he suggested, though he wasn't sure he really wanted Blaise there.

"You're sure?" Blaise asked, his old confidence returning.

Draco shrugged halfheartedly. "Hermione would tell me it's the right thing to do."

Blaise smiled and continued to walk towards the Apparition point. He was well ahead of Draco, who remained in the same spot. "It's not like I know where you live, Malfoy," he stated sardonically. "You're probably going to have to come with me." A scowl tugged down the corners of Draco's pale face, but he promptly joined his former classmate, and using side-along Apparition, they were soon standing in front of the white-stoned, two story house.

Draco immediately let go of Blaise and moved quickly up the path to the front door. The sounds of giddy laughter greeted him, bringing a sad smile to his face. "I'm home," he called out as he hung up his cloak. "And I've brought company."

"We're in the sitting room," Hermione called back. Draco rounded the small corner with Blaise in tow and entered the room to find Gemma happily stacking together a few colorful wooden blocks. Hermione rose from her spot on the floor and happily greeted him. "Did you find out anything?" she asked hopefully.

Shaking his head, Draco kissed her temple and stepped aside. "But I did run into Blaise," he told her sourly.

They both turned their attentions to the arrogant Italian, but found that he was more focused on Gemma. His eyes seemed softer, his mouth hanging slightly open, but his feet were frozen in their spot. "You weren't kidding, Draco," he finally said, his voice hoarse and low. "She looks exactly like Pansy."

Hermione stood back, worry ghosting over her features. Draco wound his arm around her shoulders, not sure who he was trying to comfort, her or himself. "Did you get a chance to speak to anyone at the Ministry?" he asked her quietly.

"I left a few messages, but haven't heard anything yet," she replied just as softly. "Why is Blaise here?"

Draco was unsure of Blaise's true intentions for visiting, and instead explained only their run-in outside of his lawyer's office. "Slytherins aren't exactly known for being noble," he told her. "I don't know what his angle is, but maybe he really did just want to see her because of Pansy."

"Draco, you don't think he's..." Hermione pulled in a deep breath, but she couldn't finish the sentence.

"I think it's possible, but we won't know for sure until someone can crack that charm," he replied somberly.