A/N, August 17th, 2018: The beginning of this chapter was altered to fit the entirety of the Blaise/Dean confrontation. Significant changes made to that conversation to better reflect the plot. The rating of this fic was upgraded from "mature" to "explicit," and four chapters were added to the total. Minor alterations were made to the chapter text to improve narrative flow, grammar, and cut back on dialogue.
Blaise went to put Scorpius down for a nap, insisting they were both exhausted from "immersing ourselves in such fantastic Muggle literature." Hermione followed him out the door, not wanting to stand next to Draco any longer. Being around him was much different from what she expected. It had only been about a day, but it had taken all of ten minutes for Scorpius to completely upend her life. How did she expect his father not to do the same? She was not comfortable with how she reacted around Draco, physically or emotionally.
Hermione needed distance but, ever the annoying prat, Draco followed her all the way to the parlor. Well, he followed her until she got lost and she ended up following him.
I haven't even been here a week, and all these staircases look exactly the same!
Hermione was not surprised to see Dean Thomas there, head bent low to get closer to Lady Narcissa. They chatted away like old friends, and Draco was more than a bit confused. His eyebrows sort of scrunched together and made a little eleven between them.
"Dean Thomas?" he asked. "What the hell are you doing here? How do you know my mother? The manor is being overrun by Gryffindors!"
Draco Malfoy has a lot to learn about his new family, Hermione mused. Dean smiled and said,
"I watch Scorpius on Wednesdays while Hermione is at work and, um, I think I left my wallet here? Not much use in the wizarding world but it has all my Muggle money and you can't buy proper trainers with Galleons. At any rate, welcome back!" Dean sounded a little off. "Scorp really is a great kid. Though, I feel weird talking to you about your son like I know him better than you do."
"You do," Draco said. He hid most of his bitterness well, but Hermione still sensed there was some salt in his tone.
"For now!" Dean insisted. "But you will learn. Hermione needed help, too, it's perfectly normal. No one gets it all right. And if you ever need—"
He stopped mid-sentence to stare at something (someone) over Draco's shoulder. Both Hermione and Draco turned to look at him, and when Hermione looked back it was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. She was hardly able to breathe until Dean asked,
"Blaise?" His voice cracked and he nervously cleared his throat. "Are you … Are you wearing my shirt?"
"No," Blaise lied.
"I can see you standing in front of me in my shirt," Dean said, incredulous.
"Oh," Blaise sighed, glancing down at the navy t-shirt.
Draco looked back-and-forth between the two of them before echoing Blaise's sentiment, "Oh."
Blaise clearly wished he was anywhere else, so Hermione sent him to fetch Dean's wallet from her study to give them all some reprieve. Blaise was out the door a half-second after the words left her mouth. Draco tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow, contemplating this new information. Dean was still staring at the doorway when Draco mentioned,
"I have never seen him so in love before."
Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts and said, "What?"
"Marry him," Draco said. "Whatever came between the two of you, you look miserable without each other and you should marry him."
Dean glared at Draco.
"Malfoy, you have been back all of one day, and I think it would be best for you to keep your exceptionally pointy nose out of my love life. Especially considering you are the reason we broke up at all, it is rather ironic, you giving me love advice. Go fuck yourself."
Draco took a stunned step backward.
"He told you?"
"Yeah, he did. And Blaise can't even tell me why he loves me, so forgive me if I'm not planning to drop down on one knee any time soon."
"I have found many ways to ruin Blaise's life," Draco admitted, "but this should not be one of them. He is my best friend, and you should marry him."
They stood in awkward silence after that, with Lady Malfoy greying by the minute. Blaise finally reappeared in the doorway and stared at the floor as he handed the wallet to Dean. The parlor felt very small as Dean ran his thumb across the back of Blaise's hand, and Blaise withdrew his fingers like they burned. Hermione felt like she was intruding on an intimate moment but found herself unable to look away. Dean, despondent, stuffed the wallet in his pocket and asked,
"You aren't even going to look at me?"
"Was not planning on it, no," Blaise mumbled. He stood with his arms crossed against his chest, and Dean went from crestfallen to furious. He shouted,
"Do you have any idea how miserable it is being in love with you?!" Blaise flinched as though Dean had slapped him. "I miss you every day. Hell, even my friends miss you!"
"Send them my love," Blaise replied facetiously.
"But I just... I miss you," Dean shrugged, imploring Blaise to just fucking look at him. "I miss you and your sterile, unpersonalized apartment and your food and I miss being able to make you laugh."
"I miss laughing," Blaise admitted.
Oh, for fuck's sake, kiss already!
"Why the hell are you moping around Malfoy's house in my shirt instead of talking to me?!"
"You told me you didn't want me around!" Blaise whined, finally meeting Dean's gaze. "I thought you needed time."
"You read that so wrong," Dean replied. "But I am taking care of Scorpius on Wednesdays and now that you mention it, it would probably be best if you are not around."
Dean turned on his heel and Flooed away. Hermione felt his absence in the air, like the longer Blaise refused to talk about it the more suffocating it would become. Blaise Disapparated with a loud "crack!" and Draco sighed.
"A lot happened while I was away."
"I have aged ten years with those idiots," Lady Malfoy agreed.
.oOo.
Draco and Hermione met outside the nursery at six o'clock on Friday morning. They had a game plan because Hermione refused to allow Draco to avoid his son any longer. He'd left his hair down and she hated it. When it was long, he looked too much like his father and not enough like the Draco she guessed was hiding beneath all that pretense. His pajamas were dark grey lounge pants and a Slytherin Quidditch t-shirt.
He puts so much effort into his appearance but sleeps just like the rest of us.
"You can do this," Hermione said. Draco nodded and Hermione said it again, but put her hands on his shoulders this time. "You can do this. Have you held a baby before?"
Draco nodded.
"Theo has twins."
"Theo Nott has twins?!" Hermione exclaimed. "Merlin help us all."
She opened the door and told Draco, "Scorp wakes up around six every day. He'll wake up overnight occasionally if he needs a nappy change or if he's hungry, but it's mostly the nappies."
Scorpius was blinking himself awake when Hermione and Draco peered into his crib. Scorp yawned and Draco smiled. Hermione felt her heart flutter and she rolled her eyes.
My emotions are out of control! There is nothing between me and Malfoy … Except a baby, a ring, and a house.
"Don't pick him up until he's fully awake," she cautioned. "He gets a bit disoriented if he isn't awake and you start to move him." Scorp yawned again, wider this time, and opened his eyes. He babbled a bit and wiggled his feet. Draco rested his elbows on the edge of the crib as Scorpius made some more noises.
"You can pick him up, now," Hermione said, but Draco didn't move, "Or not. Just whenever you're comfortable."
Draco scooped Scorpius up and placed Scorp against his shoulder. Draco seemed to be fairly well-practiced, but Hermione was not prepared for the sight of Draco Malfoy holding his son.
Holding our son.
Looking at the pair of them, Hermione wondered once again how she remained ignorant for so long. Scorpius had Draco's eyes, his hair colour, and even that funny head tilt Draco did when he was confused.
"For being so nervous, you are doing well," Hermione observed.
"I was not nervous about taking care of him," Draco said. He bounced Scorp up and down a bit and beamed down at his son. "I spent enough time with Theo's kids to know I can do the physical part of parenting. I have my doubts with the rest of it. I thought if I kept him at a distance, maybe … I dunno. I dunno what I thought. Now that I am holding him, though, I am pretty sure I would break into the Ministry of Magic if that is what it took to keep him safe."
"As one of the leading authorities on breaking into the Ministry, I'd be right there with you." Hermione laughed and Draco smiled. She felt her face go red again and busied herself prepping the changing table.
Oh, God, no. Don't smile. Don't look like that while you're holding my son! It makes me nervous, and not in the oh-no-is-he-going-to-accidentally-drop-Scorpius kind of way. More of the holy-hell-how-are-you-so-attractive kind of way.
"Are you adjusting well?" Draco asked, pulling Hermione out of her quarter-life crisis. She nervously used her foot to scoot her "prep bag" to the side of the table. Draco sounded a little nervous himself. "To the manor, I mean. Obviously this was not your ideal living situation. Though I redid that entire wing of the hou—OW!"
Draco yelped and Hermione turned around to see Draco wincing as Scorpius twined his fingers through his father's hair.
"Oh, I am so sorry!" Hermione disentangled Scorpius from Draco's shiny blond locks and apologized again. "I forgot to tell you the bun rule. Your mother and Blaise wear their hair up all the time, so I just … I forgot."
Draco shrugged and pulled a hair tie from his pocket. He pulled his hair into a bun, wrapped the hair tie around it once, then held his arms out so Hermione could return Scorpius to him. She stood still for a moment, jealous he could just pull his hair back haphazardly like that and still look good.
Overall, the day went well. Draco was well-versed in childcare courtesy of Theo's twins, leaving Hermione to wonder if she was the only person on the planet who made it to age twenty-six without learning the basics. Draco laughed when Scorpius drooled all over his shoulder. Hermione showed him each of Scorp's favourite books and even bath time (for Scorpius) wasn't too bad.
By the time they laid Scorp in his crib for the night, Hermione understood what Ginny had tried to tell her. Draco Malfoy was arrogant, proud, and much too good-looking, but he had changed for the better. If she had to guess, the thing that defined him instead was regret. There was sadness in his eyes, his frown lines, and he held onto Scorpius like his son was the one good thing he'd ever done.
As they went toward their bedrooms, Draco turned around and said,
"Granger!"
Hermione glanced back at him over her shoulder.
"Thank you," he said. "I think you may be right, and I can be a good father to him."
"I know you will be," she replied. Draco swallowed thickly and said,
"I will watch Scorpius while you work, but I want you to know I never would have stopped you anyway. You help people wherever you are, and I will never stop you from doing that. I promise."
Hermione smiled at him.
"You aren't all bad yourself, Draco Malfoy."
.oOo.
Hermione should not have been nervous about dinner with her parents. To be fair, her parents were not the ones making her nervous. Draco had only been back four days but it was long enough for Hermione to recognize the way she reacted to him was not normal. She should not be sneaking glances of his backside or feel any sort of envy over that Queenie person. Hermione shouldn't think about how nice his face was now that he wasn't sneering at her with disapprobation.
She was nervous about what her parents would see when they met outside the restaurant. Would they see that Draco looked at her without the veil of prejudice, or would they be more focused on how she couldn't control just how good his compliments made her feel?
Romilda had convinced Hermione to purchase a few fancier dresses and Hermione knew just the one for dinner. It was lavender chiffon that fell to her knees, with silver sequin embellishments along the side seams. Cape sleeves fell to her elbows, with smaller silver sequins lining the hem. The dress made Hermione feel good, made her feel desirable.
Not that I need to feel desirable. It's just dinner with my family and my son's family. That's all this is.
Hermione met Draco and Lady Narcissa in the parlor, ready to Apparate. Lady Narcissa was stunning, as always, but Draco—
"Holy shit!" Hermione shouted. She walked over to and then behind Draco and said, "You cut your hair!"
"Your observational skills are in top form, Granger," Draco said facetiously. He radiated tension but Hermione was too distracted by his hair to care. He'd kept it short all the way around but left it a bit longer on top. Of course, given his penchant for hair gel it was swooped and textured and it looked really good. Hermione reached up to touch Draco's hair but thought better of it and smoothed out the shoulders of his dinner jacket instead. She caught Lady Narcissa smiling at them and rolled her eyes.
I have to stop giving people reason to think Draco and I are anything but co-parents. We are a team, not a couple. Even if he does look rather stunning in this jacket.
"You can do this," Hermione said. It seemed to be a thing she could do to perk him up. She looked him in the eyes and repeated, "We can do this."
Draco nodded and said, "Okay. Let's get on with it, then."
They Apparated outside one of the nicest restaurants in London. Mrs. Granger greeted Lady Malfoy with a hug and Mr. Granger approached her with a smile and a warm handshake. Hermione saw her mother fix Draco with a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, trying to look past years of Hermione detailing every disgusting, racist thing Malfoy said.
Hermione's father took one look at Draco, turned around with a disdainful expression on his face, and headed into the restaurant. Draco exhaled heavily through his nose and Hermione found she didn't have any words to comfort him. Lady Malfoy patted Draco's shoulder and followed Mrs. Granger into the restaurant. Draco admitted,
"I wish I could say it was the first time someone has looked at me like that."
"I gave my father a second chance, he will give you one, too," Hermione replied. Draco held the door open for Hermione and said,
"I am not quite sure I deserve one."
A host led them back to one table near a series of floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking a garden as the sun set. Draco swept in and pulled out Hermione's chair so she nodded at him in thanks as she sat down. Hermione was already blushing; her mother took note and shot a knowing glance at Lady Narcissa.
Hermione felt strangely alone at their circular table, sandwiched between two Malfoys. Her father was at Narcissa's right and her mother sat to Draco's left. Anyone who didn't know Draco would have assumed he was perfectly used to dining in Muggle establishments. But Hermione knew Draco Malfoy too well; while his disposition had changed his tells had not. She read the tension in the way he smoothed back his hair every now and then, when he cracked his knuckles, then when he stabbed his fork just a little too forcefully into the appetizer.
"Tell me, Draco," Mr. Granger asked, "why do you believe Scorpius wound up in Hermione's care?"
It was too innocent a question. Hermione knew it was leading somewhere unpleasant and one look at Draco told her he knew it, too.
"I imagine whomever left him in Hermione's care knew exactly the kind of person she is."
Sorry, was that a compliment?
"They knew she would see it was my child and trusted her protective instinct would overpower all the disdain she quite rightfully has for me. I must thank whomever left my child on Hermione's doorstep for choosing such a good mother for my son. Right after I kill them for leaving my child there without any goddamn protection."
Their entrees arrived, forcing everyone to take a breath. Mrs. Granger said,
"You speak very highly of Hermione."
"Well he hasn't always thought of her that way, right Mister Malfoy?" Hermione's father asked.
"It is Lord Malfoy, sir," Draco politely corrected him.
"I am aware," Mr. Granger quipped without looking up from his meal.
Draco's jaw twitched. It was a toss-up between his pride and the acknowledgement that he deserved the verbal beating he was about to receive. Lady Narcissa looked ready to slap Mr. Granger, but Draco said,
"If you ignored everything I did to Hermione while we were in school that would make you terrible parents. I should know, as my parents made many life-threatening mistakes."
Lady Malfoy turned her glare on Draco but he refused to back down.
"Mother, haven't you told them?" he taunted.
Lady Malfoy shook her head but Mrs. Granger replied, "Told us what?"
"My parents invited the Dark Lord to live in our home. The most dangerous wizard since Grindelwald lived in the manor for two years right until the end of the war. It was my father's decision but Mother did not protest, as I recall. Father was quite happy to be in Azkaban when I was sixteen, because at least he was away from Lord Voldemort. Mother and I were not so lucky."
"Draco, that's enough," Lady Malfoy hissed. Mrs. Granger held up a hand to silence her and insisted,
"Go on."
"He tortured me," Draco said. Hermione always suspected as much, but it was rather sad to hear him confirm it. She would never wish that on anyone, not even sixteen-year-old Malfoy.
"No one ever thinks about the child soldiers born on the wrong side of a war. No one asked what I suffered, no one wanted to know that Voldemort threatened to murder my mother if I failed to kill Dumbledore. No one actually cared why I did the things I did."
Lady Malfoy stared at her napkin, clutched in white-knuckled fingers. Mrs. Granger reached across the table to cover Narcissa's hand with her own.
"People see what they want to see in me, sir, so I am not surprised you have such an ardent dislike for me. I went through war and I did not come out a hero, Mr. Granger."
"What does being a Malfoy mean to you, then?" Mr. Granger asked. "It certainly means something different to Hermione, and to us."
"I stand up for my values and other people will follow," Draco said. "My father valued blood purity, as did generations of Malfoys before him. I spent so long trying to convince myself he was right that I never realized why he was wrong."
"Why was that?" Mr. Granger demanded to know.
"I never felt free until my father died, because you have to understand that while I hated Voldemort I loved my father. For the longest time I wanted to be my father. I idolized him even while he was in Azkaban. He represented everything it meant to be a proper Malfoy, a proper man."
Words seemed to pour out of Draco's mouth quicker than he could think about them, as though no one had ever asked him about any of this. It occurred rather belatedly to Hermione that perhaps no one ever had.
"Once my father died I realized the name does not define me. No one can tell me what it means to be Draco Malfoy, and Granger had the same problem having been given a label she cannot change. Why should she apologize for being Muggle-born? It is not a crime to be who you are. All I wanted was to be myself and think for myself, and I realized Hermione wanted the same thing. It was people like me keeping her from being who she is, and I refuse to make anyone else feel the way Voldemort and my father made me feel."
Mr. Granger looked at him pensively. Draco turned his attention to his duck confit to escape that gaze which seemed to burn a hole straight through him. Draco's honesty finally caught up with him and Hermione grabbed his hand before he could start cracking his knuckles again.
"Narcissa," Mr. Granger asked, "is this accurate?"
"You must understand, once the Dark Lord returned we were forced back into his ranks," Lady Malfoy replied, looking fit to burst into tears at any moment. "You cannot imagine the power he had! The things he would have done to us, to Draco if we rebelled—"
"It sounds like he did enough," Mr. Granger cut her off. Draco went very still and Lady Malfoy quietly snapped,
"What did you do for your daughter, Jack?! Flee to Australia? We never had that option! Lucius was branded with His mark and the Dark Lord could find us anywhere we chose to hide. Then he Marked Draco to be sure we could never hide him away and sacrifice ourselves."
As her parents and Narcissa kept shouting at each other, Hermione leaned toward Draco and whispered, "Is that true?"
He nodded and Hermione felt her heart crack right down the middle. Lady Narcissa, normally poised and regal, was one wrong word away from smacking Jack Granger upside the head, the Muggle presence be damned. Hermione realized there was so much she didn't know about the kind of life Draco had been living. After at least fifteen more minutes of squabbling their waiter came to clear their plates and Mrs. Granger announced,
"Enough! If our children have put the past behind them we should do the same. I love our grandson and he deserves a family that isn't frayed around the edges."
"Speaking of Scorpius, I want to know what Draco has to say about Hermione's role in his life," Mr. Granger asked.
"She is his mother, I am his father, and we are a team," Draco shrugged.
"I like hearing that from you, son," Mr. Granger replied, "but I have to wonder what made you feel this way. I don't want to live in fear that one day you're going to change your mind about my daughter and try to undo everything we've built while you were absent."
He lobbed "absent" at Draco like an insult, but Hermione was angrier about it than Draco was. Draco leaned forward and looked at Mr. Granger with the best impression of Lucius Malfoy Hermione had ever seen.
"Legally, I have grounds to force Hermione entirely out of his life. I could have kicked her out of my home and said Scorpius is not her son. I chose not to do either of those things because your daughter has done what I never would have been able to do: give my son a proper family."
"You consider us a proper family?" Mr. Granger challenged.
"Non-traditional, certainly, but Scorpius has more love in his life than I ever did. I never want my son to feel like he has to be anything other than who he is to be worthy of my love, or Hermione's. And make no mistake, of the two of us Hermione is the most likely to break our arrangement. She has a bag in Scorp's nursery I wager she was hoping I would not notice. Filled it with everything she would need to take Scorpius and run. Nappies, onesies, Galleons, stuff like that I imagine."
Hermione paled.
He isn't supposed to know about that.
"I know the kind of man I want to be now, one who cares for his family," Draco said. "I will spend the rest of my days undoing the legacy of my father, and that starts with caring for my son. So I do not begrudge you whatever you may think of me. I was horrible to your daughter, Mr. Granger. Hermione has no reason to trust me, no reason to see any good in me, but she is still here and that is more than I ever could have asked for. I do not expect you to forgive me. Just know that it will not affect your daughter's role in my life or my son's. Ending up on Hermione's doorstep is the best thing that could have happened to Scorpius, given the circumstances."
That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me, and it came from Draco Malfoy.
Dessert came and went; both Hermione and Draco's mothers were blushing and teary-eyed while Hermione found herself unable to say much of anything. Mr. Granger pulled Draco aside as they left and they spoke for a minute. Whatever it was about, she could tell it was serious by the look on Draco's face and that he cast Muffliato. Whatever Draco said, he obviously had the right answers because Mr. Granger shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder. When Hermione asked what it was about, her father refused to answer except to say,
"We can trust him."
Upon their return to Malfoy Manor, Hermione shouted for Draco to follow her. She led him out of the parlor and two "Oh shit is this the right hallway?"s later brought him into the nursery. Draco watched as Hermione grabbed her prep bag and emptied it onto the floor. He was right about the contents: nappies, Galleons, onesies, and a changing mat. She tossed the bag on the floor and said,
"Do not make me regret this."