Because you all asked so nicely...here's the next one :)
...ELEVEN YEARS LATER...
"Granger?"
Hermione froze.
No. Not now. Not here.
The voice sounded shocked, but it was unmistakable. Almost twelve years had passed since she'd last heard it, but a thousand years could pass, all of her senses could be lost, and she would still know it.
The image of the last time they were together flashed through her mind. It was midnight in the Slytherin dorm, the night before she'd left to go home, never to return. The school had all but emptied out. The Christmas holidays had started and there were but a handful of students left in the school. She'd told her parents that she had some last minute studying she needed to get done and would be home a day later than expected.
They were in his bed, and he was above her, smiling down, his hair falling into his eyes, a sheen of sweat coving his naked body. He'd told her that he loved her, that he had loved her for longer than she knew, and she had told him the same. They'd fucked several times, hard and fast, but that last time, he taken his time and made love to her.
She knew she was pregnant, and she had tormented herself over telling him. But she was terrified of what he would say, what he would expect her to do. And her heart had been aching, knowing that it would be the last time with him. She'd fought back tears, had clung to him in a way that she had hoped he wouldn't recognise as something other than her wanting more of him.
She had wanted him to be happy about their child, happy about her decision to keep it. But her fear of him rejecting her, rejecting their child, of him denying that it was his and telling the world that she had lied had won out and she chose not to tell him. Chose to disappear and hide her from him for as long as she could.
She shook her head slightly, forcing the image away. She gripped Ara's shoulder, and her daughter looked up at her.
Ara's voice was alarmed, "Are you alright?"
Hermione smiled and told her, "I'm fine, sweetheart," and then turned to face Draco.
And she got her own shock. He was holding a baby; a chubby, heart achingly adorable tinier version of himself. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, her daughter had missed this. Had missed having her father to hold her. But she couldn't focus on that right now.
And she certainly couldn't focus on the way his shirt was pulled tightly across his chest, the perfect blue-grey that matched his eyes. His jaw and chin were covered in stubble, and it took everything she had to not reach out and run her palm across his roughened skin. She had avoided any and all mention of him over the years, to the point where Ginny had actually insisted she accompany her for a girl's week away when the Daily Prophet had sprouted the news of his wedding so she wouldn't have to deal with the constant bombardment of Malfoy wedding photos.
"Hello Draco," Hermione's calm demeanour hid the churning fear inside her, "And who's this?"
Ara reached out and tickled the baby's foot, "He's so cute!" she said, and the tiny boy smiled and kicked his legs, gurgling in a way that made Hermione's ovaries ache.
Hermione took her daughters hand, "Sorry, she loves babies," Hermione said and then looked down at her daughter, "Maybe you should ask if it's okay to do that. You don't want to scare him."
Ara smiled at Draco, "Sorry, what's his name?"
Draco was staring at Ara, her curly blonde hair and blue-grey eyes did nothing to hide her lineage. He'd have to be an idiot to not realise whose child she was, "Oh, um, his name is Scorpius. What's your name?"
"Ara," she told him, "I'm eleven and I just got my Hogwarts letter! We're here buying all the stuff I need."
Draco looked at Hermione, who held his gaze without flinching, her face remaining impassive, and her daughter nodded when he asked, "Ara? Like the constellation?"
Draco's voice was cautious, and Hermione's stomach clenched. He stared back at her, his eyes flicking between Hermione and her daughter. This was not how she'd imagined this moment playing out, and this was the absolute last place she thought it would happen. Out in public, where everyone could see. She said a silent prayer that he not ask questions, that he not make a scene.
"Yes," Ara said excitedly, "Not many people know that. How did you know that?"
"Well, Scorpius is a constellation also, and so is Draco." He told her, "And what a coincidence, the Ara constellation is right near the Scorpius constellation. Did you say that you're eleven?"
Ara nodded, "Yep. And I'm going to Hogwarts. Just like my mum did." She looked up at Hermione and Draco didn't miss the look of complete adoration in the young girl's eyes.
My mum. Clearly she was referring to Hermione, but Draco had to ask, "She's yours?"
"She is," Hermione told him and Draco smiled, and it was a smile that Hermione knew all too well; a smile that hid the seriousness behind it, a smile that let her know that he would come looking for her out of the public eye. A smile that said he knew. "And we're holding you up. It was good to see you again, Draco. And congratulations." She glanced at Scorpius and took her daughters hand and smiled down at her, "Come on baby, let's go."
Just as Draco called for her to wait, she heard another voice call Draco darling, and it took every fibre of her being to not turn around to see who he had ended up with. And as her daughter asked, who was that mum? She heard the voice behind her ask who Draco had been talking with.
"Just an old school friend," she told Ara as they entered Flourish and Blotts.
Hermione quickly picked out the books Ara would need for school, and thanked Merlin that this was their last stop. She knew he'd come looking for her, knew that an owl would be on her windowsill (most likely waiting for her the second they arrived home), and she knew that he would want to know what the hell she'd thought she was doing by hiding his daughter from him.
"Can we stay mum?" Ara asked and Hermione's stomach clenched. They so rarely visited the Alley for this exact reason, so when they did, Ara always wanted to stay longer. But she needed to get away; she couldn't risk running into him again.
"Not today baby," she squeezed her daughter's hand. "But I promise next time, we can stay all day if you want."
"Seriously?"
Hermione nodded, "Seriously. Now let's get all this stuff home. "
Harry and Ginny entered the kitchen, laughing, but stopped short when they saw Hermione sitting at the large counter in the centre of the room. She had her hands wrapped around a coffee mug, her face blank and she was staring into space. Ginny touched Harry's arm, they both knew this look. Something had gone wrong.
"Hermione?" Ginny said cautiously, not wanting to startle her, "Is everything okay?"
Hermione blinked and shook her head, "Hey," she said looking dazed.
Harry sat beside her, his hand rubbing over her back, "Hey," He said quietly, "What's happened?"
"Draco," she said, coughed to clear her throat and spoke again, "Draco. We ran into him, rather he ran into us." Hermione put her head in her hands. "He knows."
Ginny sat the other side of her and squeezed her shoulder, "And..."
Hermione's took a steadying breath and looked up, "And nothing. He didn't react, he didn't say anything. He just stood there with his new baby and said nothing."
"Okay," Harry said slowly, glancing at Ginny, "So this means...?
Hermione shrugged. "I have no fucking idea." She closed her eyes and let out a breath, "Shit. What am I going to do?"
"Are we sure he knows?" Ginny asked, "If he said nothing, maybe he didn't realise."
Hermione shot her withering glare, "Really Gin? You seriously don't think he realised? You all knew the minute she was born."
Ginny held her palms up, conceding the point, "Maybe he'll do nothing. He'll just pretend he didn't see her, or you, and that'll be the end of it."
Harry gave his wife a wry smile and shook his head, "While I like your optimism Gin, this is Malfoy we're talking about. He won't let this slide."
Hermione leaned her elbows on the table and thumped her head against her palms. Harry was right. He most definitely wouldn't let this slide. She'd been sitting here for an hour, Ara was in the garden picking flowers and finding bugs for her potions, and she'd been waiting. Waiting for the inevitable knock on the door and the argument that was sure to ensue.
"Okay, So what do we do?" Ginny asked and Hermione smiled.
She'd expected Harry and Ginny to suggest she move out when James arrived, and then Albus, but it hadn't happened. She and Ara had occupied the top floor of Grimmauld Place since Ara was tiny and in truth, she didn't want to leave. It was where Ara had taken her first steps, had broken her arm, had grown up. It was their home and they were her family.
And here was Ginny asking what they were going to do.
"I don't know Gin," Hermione sighed, "I can't send an owl to him, his wife might see it and I won't be responsible for that."
"Wait," Harry said, "Does Ara know?"
Hermione shook her head, "No. Well, I don't think so. She hasn't mentioned him, so..." She shrugged.
"And you? Harry asked, "How did you feel when you saw him?"
She closed her eyes again, running her hands through her hair. How had she felt? She had felt a flurry of butterflies in her stomach; she had felt a warmth running through her, pooling in that one spot that had had no attention in so very long. She had wanted to touch him, the attraction to him from her youth had not disintegrated in the slightest even though she had hoped it would.
The mere sight of him had her flashing back to their time together, the few months that she tried not to dwell on. But it was all she had done in the hours since she'd seen him. The smell of his cologne; his sweat-slicked skin; her legs wrapped around him; the length of him buried inside her, was all she could think about.
And she hated herself. It was the first time since the first few days after her daughter's birth she had done so. She hated that she hadn't told him. Hated that he'd not had the chance to be a father to his daughter, hated that they had not had the chance to just be with him.
"I don't know." She finally replied. "You know how I felt about him back then, and I thought it would have changed over time, but seeing him today, seeing him with his son...fuck!"
"Mum, you're not allowed to swear."
The three of them whipped around to see Ara grinning at them, her hands, and small basket, full of lord knows what. Hermione let out a small groan, hoping that Ara had only heard the curse she was admonishing her for.
"Hey chicken," Harry said, "Whatcha got?"
Ara plopped her cache onto the counter and rolled her eyes, "Uncle Harry, I'm eleven. You shouldn't call me chicken anymore."
Harry tickled her ribs, "Sorry chicken, but you know that's your real name."
She huffed out a breath and then shot him a cheeky grin, "Okay, Uncle Scarhead."
Ginny laughed and Hermione balked at her daughters' reference to the same insult that her father used to use for Harry while they were at school and the fact that she had chosen to use it on the very day she had unknowingly met him. Harry looked at Hermione and tried not to laugh. He brushed his fingers across his forehead and the now faded scar, and frowned.
"Scarhead, huh?" Harry tapped his chin in a thoughtful gesture, "I like it."
Ara laughed, and then looked at Hermione, "Were you talking about the man we met today?"
Hermione nodded, "We were."
"He's my father, isn't he?" Ara asked.
With the exception of hiding Draco's identity from her, Hermione made it a rule not to lie to her daughter. She reached across the counter and took her hand, "He is," Hermione told her, "Was it that obvious?"
Ara smiled, "Yeah, I look like him. Will I get to meet him properly?"
"I honestly don't know. It will be up to him, okay?"
Ara nodded, "Does that mean his baby is my brother?"
"Um," Hermione floundered, looking at Harry and Ginny for help.
"Well," Harry said pulling her to the seat beside him, "In a way it does. You and the baby have the same father, but different mothers. So that makes him your half-brother. Does that make sense?" Ara nodded and Harry continued, "But since Draco only just learned about you, we still have to keep it a secret, okay?"
"Because of his family?"
"That's right," Ginny told her, "Even though we won the war, some families still don't like half-bloods or muggles."
"Okay," Ara said and held up her basket, "Did you see what I found?"
Hermione shook her head. Her daughter was happy with their answers and just like that, the conversation was over.
Draco sat in his office, completely ignoring the pile of papers in front of him. All of it important and in need of his attention, but his attention was elsewhere.
Almost twelve years had gone by and in all that time he'd seen her twice. Twice. The first time was at the Manor when his deranged aunt had tortured her and he had been too pathetic to stop it. And the last time was right before the fall of the Dark Lord, right before he had been called to cross the ruins of the castle and join the death eaters, and it had hardly been the time to stop and ask her where the hell she had been.
He had walked right past her, brushing his hand against hers, hearing the catch of her breath. He had wanted to stop, had wanted to ignore the call for him to cross the courtyard, had wanted to take her hand and stand beside her. But his mother would have been killed right there and then, and for that he would not have been able to forgive himself.
It had been three days since he had seen her and in those three days she was all he could focus on. The girl he once knew and loved had long gone, and a stunning woman had taken her place. She had taken his breath away, and not just because he'd been surprised to see her. Her wild hair had finally been tamed, and she'd pulled it back into a simple ponytail; the simplicity of it made her look more beautiful than he'd remembered. And she was fine, with just a hint of those curves he had so admired, and she still held herself with a confidence that would make most men cower in fear.
And then he had noticed the child. The eleven year old and he had no doubt who her father was. It had been like looking into a mirror. The blonde-haired, grey-eyed girl was a Malfoy, that was for sure, and Granger had dared to hide her from him.
And that was what he had been trying to wrap his head around. She had dared to hide his child from him. Dared. He wouldn't stand for it. He was a Malfoy, and the child was his, and no one dared to cross a Malfoy. And as much as he wanted to show up at her house and rant and rave about just who she thought she was, he held back. He decided to make her sweat. To make her wonder just when he'd turn up. To make her think he would show up with his lawyer and take the child from her.
Astoria and his mother had noticed the change. He was being sullen - more so than usual - and overprotective of his son, not allowing anyone near him. It was stupid, he knew, but the sudden need to watch over his son night and day was Grangers fault.
And fuck! He'd been near constantly hard since he'd seen her. He'd already tossed off twice that morning in the private bathroom attached to his office, not to mention several times each of the previous nights since he'd seen her while his wife slept. And each time the vision behind his closed eyes was not of his wife, but her.
He closed his eyes and there she was. Her clothes were that of muggles; tight fitting jeans that hugged her perfectly and in all the right places (when she'd turned around to leave, his eyes had dropped to her arse, and he'd had to think of very cold things to stop the heat in his belly from causing a very embarrassing problem). And the loose fitting top she was wearing hadn't helped; the open vee-neck allowed him a glimpse of what was hidden beneath and covered in lace.
His first thought - after the shock of seeing her - was what she would look like underneath those clothes. Would she be like he remembered? Or would she be more? More curves, more freckled skin, more of those legs that had seemed to go on forever? And more of that pussy that he longed to taste. A taste that was seared into his memory, a taste that he couldn't bear to take from his wife for fear of losing that of the only woman he ever truly loved.
Fuck! He cursed quietly. Astoria. His wife. The mother of his son. He loved her, but not in the way he loved Granger. He loved her only because he had to. She was right for him, right for his family. But the love was shallow, barely skin deep. She wasn't Granger, not by a long shot and he'd virtually hidden from his wife since seeing her. He had gone to bed long after she'd been asleep and risen again before she woke, for fear of her wanting him, for fear of him crying out Granger's name.
Draco looked down at himself, his cock bulging in his pants. He was hard. Again.
He groaned, his hand slipping to his lap and squeezing himself through the fabric of his trousers. Fuck! The mere thought of her was all it took to get him rock hard. This was not good. He called out to his assistant that he was not to be disturbed by anyone, and waved his wand at the door locking it.
Knowing this...problem...wouldn't go away without help, he tugged at his belt, and the sound of his zipper and his sigh as he took himself in hand were loud in his ears, his body vibrating with anticipation of what he was going to do.
He closed his eyes and wondered. Would she ever come in here? Would she lock that door herself? Would she drop to her knees? Would she slip under his desk and suck him off while he met with clients who were unaware?
"Fuck," he swore quietly as his hand moved over himself.
He started out slow, imagining her mouth and tongue on him, imagining the slow, seductive way she moved without even knowing it. He remembered the first time she did this for him, how tentative, how shy she was. How nervous he was. But good holy fuck, she'd been brilliant.
His rhythm grew faster at the memory, tugging himself with quick, firm strokes. He shifted his position, widening his legs and reaching down to cup his balls. His breath was short and sharp, and he couldn't hold back the quiet grunts that were forcing their way from his chest.
It felt good to do this, felt good to allow himself to think about her. He'd pushed her from his thoughts for so long, tried not to wonder where she was, what she was doing, why she had disappeared. And now that he knew why, his thoughts were filled with her. Was she married? Was another man raising his child?
That last thought had him squeezing himself harder. Married. Another man. Fuck that bullshit!
He pressed his head back into the padded back of his chair, the brushing sound of his hand moving faster and faster seemed to be amplified in the quiet room. His fantasy of her on her knees grew; he saw himself gripping her hair and fucking into her mouth, of her moaning around him, of her begging him for more.
A loud knock at the door startled him into consciousness, and the Draco, darling? that followed in his wife's voice had him coming instantly.
"Fuck." He swore and closed his eyes. The vision of Hermione on her knees, smirking smugly back up at him while his wife waited outside made his cock twitch and had him coming again.
"Draco?" Astoria called.
"One minute." He ground out through gritted teeth, swiftly grabbing his wand and casting a Scurgify spell to clean himself up. That was followed by a concealment charm, since he was still hard. Damned Granger!
He stood and winced, his pants uncomfortably tight and he was sure that his balls would be blue without the urgent relief they were seeking. He took a breath and exhaled slowly, calming himself before crossing the room and opening the door.
His son squealed when he spotted him and Draco smiled at him, instantly reaching out to pluck the 8 month old from the arms of his nanny. The delight in seeing his son was always overshadowed by the anger he felt towards his wife and her reluctance to do anything with their son more than to tell everyone that he was theirs. She rarely held him, never bathed him or put him to bed, and hated the mess he made when he ate – if she could be bothered to be with him at meal times.
And Draco hated her for it. She wasn't a mother, she was barely a wife. She had only wanted to be known as Astoria Malfoy and wanted nothing more. He'd seen more mothering in just a few minutes of his meeting with Granger than Astoria had shown in eight months. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to make a scene, but he was struggling to keep the anger that was bubbling just beneath the surface down.
"Why was your door locked?" Astoria's voice was accusatory and if it wasn't for this week's round of whatever chemicals she had shoved into her face, he was sure she would be frowning.
"I had a meeting over the Floo that was not to be disturbed." Draco snapped. His temper was short and while he didn't intend to take his frustrations out on her, her tone was enough to push him over the top. "You've been out spending more money I assume."
Astoria actually managed to look surprised, but recovered almost instantly, "I only want the best for our son."
Draco snorted a laugh, "Yeah, right. Our son. Is there any particular reason you're here? Or is it to leave him here with me, so you can spend the afternoon with the girls, pretending you're a mother?"
Astoria opened her mouth to respond, but he held up his hand, "Just go Astoria. Do what you do best." He turned to Scorpius' nanny, "Amelie, I'll take care of him, one of his parents should. You can have the afternoon off."
He turned on his heel and sauntered into his office, glaring back at his wife before slamming the door behind him.
Two days had gone by since he blew up in his office at Astoria, and he'd barely seen her since. He was sure she'd gone to her parents – of course leaving Scorpius at home with the nanny – and he could have cared less. She was spoiled and entitled (more so than he was) and he had always turned a blind eye to it. It had been easier to give in to her, than to deal with her tantrums. But now he didn't care if she left permanently, didn't care if she took half his family's fortune. In fact he would give it to her gladly to have her gone, but he would fight tooth and nail for his son.
And now he was standing in front of the well hidden home of Harry Potter. It had taken some work to track her down. Her parents house now belonged to her, but she clearly had not lived there for years if the surprised faces of its new residents were anything to go by when he'd showed up demanding to see Hermione Granger. And when he discovered she was living with Harry in his mother's ancestors' home he had kicked himself. He should have known that she would have been holed up with him and Ginny.
"Potter. Is she here?" Draco asked coolly when Harry opened the door.
Hermione sucked in a breath and looked at Ginny, her eyes wide. Draco had found her. She had expected an owl, or a big burly lawyer on the doorstep, she hadn't expected him to simply show up.
Ginny was staring back at her, her own eyes equally as wide, "How did he find you?"
Hermione shrugged, "Who knows?" It was possible that she knew she lived at Grimmauld Place, but there had been no real reason for him to know, or any previous reason for him to come here.
"Malfoy," She heard the strain in Harry's voice. He'd been a big part of Ara's life. He had basically taken on the role of her father and was as protective of her as Hermione was, "Wait here, I'll check if she wants to see you."
"Uncle Harry!? Did you get-oh, I'm sorry," Ara stopped short when she saw Draco. "Hello. Did you bring your baby?"
Draco smiled at her, he couldn't help but not. Just a few minutes in this child's presence and he was smitten. There was no question she was his. She looked exactly like him. And when she said she was eleven, it matched perfectly with the time that Hermione had disappeared from school. The only question was why Hermione had not told him.
"Hermione?" Harry entered the living room, "Did you want to see him?"
She let out the breath she was holding and stood, "Might as well get this over with."
Harry followed her back down the long hallway, and Hermione, while slightly annoyed that Harry had left her with Draco, smiled at her daughter conversing easily with her father. And seeing them together, she was truly surprised that so few people recognised who her father was, the resemblance was remarkable.
"Draco, hello."
"I think we need to talk," Draco said looking up to meet her gaze.
"You're right, we do," she nodded and took her daughters hand, "Come upstairs, we can talk there."
"Hermione?" Harry was looking at Ara, "Are you sure...?"
"It's okay Harry," she smiled, "We'll be fine."
Hermione headed up the stairs, and Draco moved to follow, but Harry stopped him, "Draco, don't..."
"Don't what, Potter,"
"Don't think you know why," Harry said and walked away.
Draco watched as Harry walked down the long hallway and disappeared, frowning. What the hell did that mean?
Hermione stood behind Ara, her hands resting gently on her shoulders, "Draco this is Ara; Ara this is Draco Malfoy."
"It's lovely to meet you Draco," Ara said politely.
"Likewise," Draco smiled at her, "Do you know who I am?"
Ara nodded and stated simply, "You're my father."
"I believe I am." He looked at Hermione who gave him a small smile and nodded, "Did you get everything you needed for school?"
Ara nodded excitedly, "Oh, yes. We got so much stuff. And my most favourite is my cauldron, I love making potions."
"Really?" Draco looked at her surprised, he figured Hermione would have dissuaded her from anything that might have resembled him, "I love making potions too."
"Mum always says that I'm just like you. And she said you were the best in their class."
"Did she now?" Draco arched an eyebrow at Hermione, "Well, she's right. I was the best. I still am."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but smiled. "Ara, could please go downstairs with Harry and Ginny, so Draco and I can talk." Hermione requested of her daughter.
"But mu-um," Ara whined, "I want to stay and talk too."
"And you can," Hermione smiled, "But after we've finished. Now, downstairs, please."
Ara huffed out a breath, "Fine."
Hermione almost laughed as she stalked away, this child had more Malfoy traits in her than she realised.
"So," Draco began, but Hermione held up her hand.
"Ara Jo Granger," she said loudly, "I meant what I said; downstairs."
Ara peered around the corner, a cheeky grin on her face, "It was worth a shot." And the distinct sound of her footsteps on the stairs signalled that she'd done as Hermione had asked. Nevertheless, Hermione still cast a silencing charm, and nodded at Draco.
"She's mine?" He asked.
Hermione nodded, "She is."
"How is that possible?"
"Really?" Hermione drawled sarcastically at him, "You honestly don't know? I'm surprised Scorpius exists if that's the case."
She watched as his jaw clenched, and he breathed deeply, controlling his temper. "Don't be a fucking smart arse, you know exactly what I mean."
"Sorry. You're right. You didn't deserve that," She sighed, "Eleven years ago Draco, you were the only person I was...with. We were seventeen, well, I was, you were sixteen, for Christ's sake. We were careless, and stupid-" she stopped short at the hurt look on his face, "And I don't regret any of it. Not you. And certainly not her."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco asked, "I think I had the right to know."
"Draco, you know why." She said quietly, "There was no way your family would have allowed it."
"They wouldn't have had a choice," he said, looking like the sullen, spoiled brat she remembered from her teen years.
"You would have told your father to keep out of it? You would have told the Death Eaters or Voldemort? Seriously?"
"When was she born? When's her birthday?" Draco asked, deflecting Hermione's question. Of course his father wouldn't have allowed it. None of them would have. They would have done everything they could to rid Hermione of the baby and remove her from Draco's life.
Hermione closed her eyes, "Her birthday is June fifth." She heard him draw in a breath; June fifth was his birthday and Hermione had cursed the universe relentlessly since her daughter's birth for its sardonic sense of humour.
"And her name?" Draco asked, "Why Ara?"
"I know it was what you would have wanted," Hermione told him, "It is a Malfoy tradition, is it not?"
"What I would have wanted?" Draco scoffed, "I don't think you truly cared about what I would have wanted."
"Don't be an arse," she snapped, "I get that you're mad and I get that you deserved to know, but would we even be discussing our child if you did know?"
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, if you knew that I was pregnant, would she even be here? Would you have wanted her?" Hermione was trying to remain calm, but her temper was growing. She'd tortured herself enough over the years for not telling him, but she didn't need him to act as if she hadn't. "Would you even have acknowledged that you had sex with me? I mean, I was just a filthy mudblood, imagine the scandal."
Draco knew she was right. As much as they had both wished they could have been together in public, he knew that it could never have been a reality. He would have denied ever having been with her, would have scoffed at her and made look a fool. Of course he would have.
"And you've taught her magic? And potion making?" Draco asked, deflecting her questions again, and she nodded, "But how? You didn't even finish school yourself."
Hermione shot him a withering glare, "Seriously Malfoy? You don't think I'm capable of teaching her?"
"No, that's not-"
"I'll have you know that I did finish school," she snapped, "Professor Dumbledore insisted. My classes were held here and at home, he organised The Order to teach me privately." She was glaring at him.
"My apologies, it's just...fuck! I have a child," he rubbed a hand across his face, "I have a child I know nothing about. I'm a little stunned here."
"You have two children," Hermione pointed out.
Draco returned the glare she had given him, "I fucking know I have two children," he hissed at her, "But I am aware of my son. My daughter, however, was hidden from me."
Hermione felt a rush of mixed emotions at his use of daughter. Yes, Ara was his and his acknowledgement of her as such gave her a rush of joy. But at the same time her protective instincts cut in and her annoyance at his accusation of hiding her made her stomach clench.
"And how many times do I have to tell you why I hid her? You cannot be this stupid."
Draco exhaled a slow breath. He knew she was right; their daughter would have been killed if the Death Eaters were aware of her existence.
His heart skipped a beat.
Their daughter.
He and Granger had a child.
All the anger rushed out of him at the realisation. "We have a child," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. He looked up and she was smiling back at him.
"We do," she said, "We have a child. A beautiful, happy and extremely intelligent child, who is more like you than you can imagine."
Draco stepped forward and surprised her by taking her hand, "I'm sorry," he said, "I know why you hid her. Thank you."
"Thank you?" Hermione asked.
Draco nodded, "If you hadn't done that, hidden her I mean, you both would have been hunted down and killed. My father would have made sure of it."
Hermione swallowed hard and nodded, "And I'm sorry I had to hide her from you. I truly am. Draco, I wanted nothing more for her than to know who her father was – is. She missed out on you, and I am sorry that you missed out on her."
"I think you've done a pretty good job on your own," he said, "I don't know how you raised a child and fought in a war at the same time. I was barely able to focus on myself."
Hermione shrugged, "I had a lot of help. And I knew she was safe, she was well protected by The Order."
"I don't know where to go from here, how to proceed." Draco said.
"What do you mean?"
"She's my daughter, I should bear some of the responsibility of raising her."
Hermione held up her hand "Draco," she smiled, "Thank you, but we're fine. You owe us nothing and honestly, do you think she'll be accepted by your family, even after everything that happened? Have they changed so much that a half-blood child will be accepted as a Malfoy?"
"They won't have a choice," he snapped, "She's mine, she's a Malfoy."
Hermione bit back the automatic response that Ara was half Granger, her heart was soaring at the fact that he had accepted her as his own, whether he realised it or not. "Draco, it's not that I don't want you in her life, quite the opposite in fact, but I'm just concerned as to what this will mean for you, and for her."
Draco laughed an incredulous laugh, "Seriously Granger, you're concerned about me?"
"I am," she stated simply, ignoring the snark in his voice, "I could have told the entire world about her, about you and me, I could have made your life hell, but I didn't. I knew what it meant for all of us if I had, and I still know what it means. You're married Draco. Married. And you have a new baby. Do you honestly believe that your wife will be okay with this?"
Draco didn't respond. He knew she was right. Astoria would be furious, as would her parents, as would his mother. And no explanation would suffice, regardless of how he had felt about Hermione all those years ago. But this was his daughter, and he wanted to be in her life.
He wondered if had this chance meeting had happened earlier, before Scorpius, before Astoria, would he have felt the same? Or was it because of the arrival of his son and the protective instincts that came with being a parent that he felt an overwhelming need to protect her also, was that what he was feeling here?
"Draco, you can be in her life, I want nothing more for you and for her, but," she hesitated, before carefully telling him, "We've been okay up until now, and we will be okay."
Draco saw fit to explode at her outright rejection of his help, of her accusation of him not helping before now. But then it hit him. She was giving him an out. And easy escape, where he could simply walk away and no one would know. He wouldn't have to acknowledge her, wouldn't have to explain her to anyone, he could simply pretend she didn't exist and no one would be any the wiser. But the burning instinct inside him told him otherwise. He was her father and nothing would change that, and he needed to be a part of her life, no matter the consequences from his family.
"Hermione, she's my daughter and I want to know her," Draco said, "That is if she wants to know me," he scratched the back of his head nervously, "Maybe I can get to know her first, and then I can tell my family."
"Draco, I'm happy for you to spend as much time with her as you like. And I know she wants to see you, and Scorpius, if that's okay? She's talked non-stop about him since she saw him with you." She tilted her head to one side and looked thoughtfully at him, "But I have to admit I am nervous about the rest of your family meeting her."
He had to agree; he wasn't sure how he was going to tell them himself. Although he knew that the moment his mother saw her, she would fall in love with her granddaughter. For all the negatives Narcissa Malfoy was associated with, hating children wasn't one of them. In fact, he was sure that she was hoping for an army of grandchildren, not just the one his wife reluctantly agreed to have.
"Okay," He finally said, "There's no hurry to tell them, or for her to meet them. But I have eleven years to catch up on, and since she's off to school in three weeks, I don't have a lot of time."
Hermione nodded, "That sounds fair."
She smiled at him, knowing that this could have gone a very different way. He could have made demands, could have insisted that his family meet her immediately, he could have even attempted to take her away. But he hadn't. This was the Draco that she'd known and loved in her teens and she was grateful for it.
"Now, did you want to meet with your daughter?"
A/N:
I am so very overwhelmed with the support for the previous two chapters, thank you all for the feedback xx
I hope the time jump hasn't pissed everyone off...I did write another chapter to precede this one(or at least attempted to) but it didn't work in the way I wanted, so I scrapped most of it and parts of it made it to this one and the next one that is coming.