A/N, August 17th, 2018: The ending of this chapter featuring Blaise and Dean was moved to the beginning of Chapter 13. Minor additional changes were made to chapter text to improve narrative flow. Unfortunately that means this chapter now ends on a new line, and the line previously making up the final sentence of this chapter is now part of the beginning portion of Chapter 13.
Draco Malfoy was gone the next morning.
Hermione slept in for the first time in ages and awoke to an empty nursery. It wouldn't have alarmed her except she peeked into Draco's room (It's not spying if he leaves the door open.) and he wasn't there. He was not in his study or his mother's, but Hermione eventually found Scorpius at the breakfast table in the arms of Lady Narcissa.
"Good morning, Miss Granger," she said.
"Where is Draco?!" Hermione shouted.
"Clearly your manners are a work in progress; Abigail should have taught you better. To answer your question, my son left an hour ago to tie up loose ends. Personal business, you understand."
"Our son is his personal business!" Hermione insisted.
"And as I said, he is tying up loose ends."
"Is that Malfoy speak for 'doing something illegal?' Because I—"
"Go to work, Miss Granger," Narcissa cut her off. "You are so ridiculously set on it, your first day back is hardly the optimal time for tardiness."
Hermione hated that, hated being spoken to like being worried was her fault. Like Draco hadn't promised the night before to do his best at caring for Scorpius, then run off the very next morning without so much as a note.
"I agreed to leave Scorpius in Draco's care. Not yours, not Blaise's, and not Dean's. If my son changes hands I need to know about it," Hermione insisted.
"And now you know," Lady Malfoy coolly replied.
It was 9:15 and Hermione did not want to test Chief Healer Battlehunt's patience. She huffed angrily and took Scorpius when he reached out to her.
"I'm so sorry, I thought your father would be here," Hermione murmured to him. "I will have a long chat with him about that, and Lady Malfoy is going to owl me as soon as Draco gets home. But I have to go to work today, Scorp. And tomorrow and the next day … I will miss you so much!"
Hermione kissed the top of Scorp's head and returned him to Lady Narcissa.
"As soon as he returns!" she demanded.
.oOo.
The Maeve Ward at St. Mungo's was more of a laboratory that specialized in rare cases, finding antidotes and remedies for maladies no one had seen before. Hermione loved being able to take other people's research and apply it to new things, to help people previously considered lost causes.
When the front desk called Hermione down she assumed Draco had returned to the manor. She definitely did not expect to find Parvati Patil waiting for her. Hermione hid her surprise and hugged Parvati as she asked,
"Parvati! What are you doing here?"
"You remember earlier this year I got promoted to features writer at Witch Weekly?" Parvati asked.
Oh, that explains why she never followed-up for my last interview. I was just so busy with Scorp …
"Right, yeah …"
"We are friends, right, Hermione?" Parvati asked.
"Of course," Hermione replied, suddenly suspicious. "Of course we are."
"Well, Witch Weekly got a tip that Draco Malfoy has returned to England."
"Has he now?" Hermione asked, her voice very high at the end. She looked down at the floor as Parvati dropped the proverbial bomb,
"And we know you moved into Malfoy Manor."
"Oh," Hermione replied.
"Now, I held them off from printing the rumours because I think I can get you to give me a feature. You, Draco, the forbidden love … It'll be the biggest-selling issue in the history of Witch Weekly!"
"We aren't a couple," Hermione insisted. Parvati cast her a doubtful look and grabbed Hermione's right hand.
"Then what the hell is this?"
"A gift," Hermione said, really starting to regret wearing the ring outside the manor. But it felt … nice. Hermione hated that it did, but it was a symbol of acceptance from her son's family. Why wouldn't she want to be reminded of that? If Narcissa Malfoy said she was Scorp's mother, then it had to be true for everyone, right?
"A gift?" Parvati asked skeptically. "Malfoys do not give gifts to Muggle-borns, Hermione. Try again."
Hermione groaned and dragged Parvati over to a corner. She whispered,
"It's a gift … from my son's grandmother."
"You have a son?" Parvati asked. "Narcissa Malfoy is your son's grandmother? But that means … You and Draco …"
"Yeah," Hermione nodded. "We share a son."
"Merlin's beard!" Parvati squealed. Hermione shushed her and Parvati whispered, "An illicit affair? That is so much better! How old is he? When did it happen? Was it great? I bet Draco was great on the job, wasn't he?"
"You can't print any of this," Hermione insisted. "It's all very new, and Draco just got back."
"What do you mean I can't print this?!" Parvati exclaimed. "This is the biggest story in the past decade! And you know how it looks, Hermione."
"How what looks?" Hermione challenged.
Of course I know, but I want to hear you say it.
"You moving into Malfoy Manor the week before Draco returns from America? You having his child? Hermione, it looks like you are his whore," Parvati said. Hermione felt the blood draining from her face. She knew, of course, but it was different to hear it from a friend.
"And I know you aren't," Parvati insisted, "but you must realize Witch Weekly will print what they know unless you give them something better. Give me something better and it will be favourable to you, I'll let you set the parameters—"
"While you get to write the story everyone in the wizarding world will want to read," Hermione observed. Parvati shrugged.
"Of course. I jumped on this, but I also don't want your reputation to be dragged through the mud. Especially after what happened with Ron, this is not a good look."
Hermione grit her teeth.
"Yes. Ron. Everything comes back to Ron, doesn't it?" Hermione said bitterly.
But it would make him jealous, wouldn't it?
"I'll do it. Let me talk to Draco and convince him."
"Yes!" Parvati squealed in delight. She gave Hermione another hug and said, "Thank you! Owl me when it's done!"
.oOo.
Hermione stepped out of the Floo after work and ran right into Draco's back. It was like stumbling into a very pale, nicely-dressed brick wall. He was in dark green robes and did not bother to turn around to look at Hermione. Instead, he walked out of the parlor and up the staircase toward their bedrooms.
"Hey!" Hermione shouted after him, but Draco pretended he hadn't heard.
She followed him, watched as he tossed his robes onto a nearby chair and ran his fingers through his hair.
Anxious. He's been doing something unpleasant then.
"Draco?" Hermione asked.
Again, he feigned ignorance and Hermione was no longer patient.
"Malfoy! What's wrong?" she asked.
Draco stilled in his doorway. He didn't bother turning around when he spoke.
"I am not talking about it right now, Granger."
Then he slammed the door. Hermione tried to open it, but the door was locked. Alohamora didn't work, so Hermione started banging on Draco's door. When he didn't answer, she walked into Scorp's nursery in time to see Draco shirking his button-down.
America had done him well. Draco Malfoy had pulled on a pair of track pants, slung low on his hips, evidently preparing for a run by stuffing his feet into a well-worn pair of trainers. Hermione's eyes lingered on his chest. His midsection was lean and toned, the muscles tensing while Hermione gaped at them. It was the three large, raised, diagonal scars across his chest that had Hermione at a loss for words. Each was the width of two fingers and they wrapped around his ribcage like gnarled ribbons.
"Courtesy of your best friend Potter," Draco spat before slamming the door shut.
Hermione found Draco outside an hour later, sitting on the steps that led to the garden. It must have been a beautiful run, with the sun just beginning to set and illuminating the top of the border hedge until it disappeared beyond the horizon. Draco sat with his back to the house, head between his knees and hands clasped on the nape of his neck. Hermione sat down next to him, not sure what to do.
Draco finally looked up and said, "The one benefit to being in America was that I forgot how people look at me here."
'What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"Everyone else gets recompense, gets a second chance. Me? Never, because I was Marked. I was proud of it then because it made me feel like an adult, but I was sixteen and stupid. People look at me the way you look at things you fear and things you hate. Maybe even Scorpius will be afraid of me and then I will have truly become my father."
He shuddered at the thought or the cold, perhaps both, so Hermione leaned over to give him a hug. It was the weirdest moment of her life. Stranger than snogging her best friend in the middle of a battle. Even stranger than finding a baby on her doorstep. Hermione Granger hugged Draco Malfoy, who rested a hand on her arm and his head against her shoulder.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, and Hermione didn't find it as odd at the end as she did at the beginning. In fact, it was almost … pleasant.
"Are you afraid of me, Hermione?"
Hermione.
"I don't want to be," she answered.
"Are you?" he repeated.
"I'm afraid of pushing you too far," she admitted. "Part of me thinks you are genuine, you have changed, and I like you. I trust my instinct on this and I believe what you said at dinner yesterday. But another part remembers what you were like and I worry you will slip back into it. I remember you and your mother standing by as I was Crucioed for nothing other than being who I am! So, of course I have a bag packed and ready to take my son on the run! And of course I get antsy when you don't do as you promise!"
"I left Scorp with my mother—"
"It doesn't matter!" Hermione insisted. "You told me he would be with you, and he wasn't. Scorp is the most important thing in my world and I panic when I don't know what is happening around him."
Draco nodded and said, "That is fair. I apologize, I never thought of it that way."
"So make it up to me," Hermione demanded. "Tell me where you were and why you came back so upset."
"I went to see Daphne," Draco said. "She was quite stunned to learn I am the father of her nephew. Odd for such a thing to slip your mind like that, Granger."
"She said she would owl me when she was ready to know," Hermione replied.
"Well, she will be coming to our celebration next month to meet our son."
"Why would that have upset you?"
"Because I also went to see her parents," Draco revealed.
"Oh," Hermione gasped.
"They will not be bothering you or Scorpius," Draco said, much to Hermione's relief.
"What did they say?"
"Nothing you need to hear," Draco replied, but Hermione wouldn't let him dodge the question.
"Tell me!" she demanded.
"I do not want you to know the way people speak about me," Draco said. "My point is, they will not be coming to claim rights over our son."
There it is again, "our son."
"Draco," Hermione pressed, "I want to know what they said. Tell me why you came back angry."
He ground his teeth together, considering his options. He cracked his knuckles again and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"They said they wanted no claim over a child whose father avoided being sent to prison for their cause by cavorting about with a Mudblood whore."
"Oh," Hermione wrinkled her nose distastefully. She expected much worse. Hell, she'd heard worse out of Draco himself. She asked, "They know I hated you, right? I would have rather been bitten by a Blast-ended Skrewt than have shagged you back then."
"And now?" Draco teased.
"Dunno," Hermione shrugged playfully. "We already have a son, I suppose we skipped that part."
"My money was on the Skrewt, anyway," Draco laughed. Hermione bumped her shoulder against his and said,
"I love my son, Draco. I believe that staying here is the best I can do for him. If it comes down to it, I trust you to have Scorp's best interest at heart."
"Even if I fuck up sometimes?" Draco asked.
"Even then," Hermione agreed.
"There is something I want to do tomorrow with Scorpius," Draco said. "Will you come with me?"
"Of course, but there is something else I need to discuss with you."
"And I with you," Draco replied. "You first."
Hermione took a deep breath and said, "We've been outed."
"Wizards Quarterly?" he guessed.
"Witch Weekly," Hermione countered. Draco mumbled something about "that fucking tabloid garbage" but Hermione continued.
"Parvati says she can hold them off if we give her a feature."
"Clever girl," Draco smiled. Hermione felt her cheeks warm with envy. She shouldn't feel possessive over an adjective, but the way Draco said it … It sounded wrong applied to Parvati.
That is my word. Don't smile when you think about her, don't be impressed by her transparent machinations. What must I do to get you to speak about me that way?
"We should do it," Hermione said. "I think it gives us the opportunity to control the story."
"And you get to avoid the appearance of any impropriety," Draco added. "Do we get to set the stage for questions?"
"Yes."
"No photos of Scorpius, no questions about Scorpius's mother, and under no circumstances are they to reveal his name."
"Agreed." But Hermione had to ask the question. It was uncomfortable, but it had to be said.
"What are we to the public, Draco?" she asked.
He shrugged in response.
"Whatever you wish us to be, I suppose. If you keep wearing the ring, though, no one will believe we are merely, what is it you said? Co-parenting?" He waved his hand around like the word was meaningless but he would entertain the notion anyway.
"Yes, um, if we aren't … Will I still be considered his mother?"
"No," Draco answered bluntly. "Not by everyone, but by the people who matter, of course you will be. Since when do you care about outsiders defining your family?"
"Since my son has your legacy to uphold," Hermione answered.
"The Malfoy name," Draco spat. "More of a curse for him than a privilege."
"Then make it something else!" Hermione insisted. "But we have to convince other people to take me seriously as his parent, and I don't know another way to do that."
"We can present ourselves as a couple," Draco said, "but what of Weasley?"
"Ronald and I broke up well over three years ago," Hermione said, and Draco turned to look at her.
"I am not surprised. You were always too much for him, too intelligent for him, too, if you ask me. If he appreciated you as a lover, as a friend, he will want to kill me for staking claim over you."
"Ronald is married with a child due any day now, and I am not an owl to be claimed!" Hermione insisted.
"Unless …" Draco's smile turned into a devious grin that Hermione hadn't seen in a decade. "You want to do this. You want to be splashed on the cover of the most-read tabloid in Britain on the arm of Weasley's enemy to convince everyone you have moved on."
Oh, fuck you.
"Fuck you, Draco, you insensitive, arrogant, presumptive son of a—"
"There's my girl," Draco said, his smile widening.
"I am not your girl, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione insisted.
"Aren't you, though?" he teased.
Well, yes. I suppose, in a way, I am.
"What was it you wanted to tell me?" Hermione asked, but Draco shrugged her off.
"It can wait."
.oOo.
Cemeteries have a unique brand of cold. There was no wind, which made for a frigid silence. Every movement, every step could be heard from several metres away. (Several headstones away.) Scorpius was crying, not happy with his first Portkey experience, so Hermione bounced up him up and down against her hip. Draco hadn't said where they were going after Hermione returned from work on Tuesday; just showed up with a bouquet of purple tulips and white irises then told her to grab hold of the Portkey.
"You may follow me," Draco said, taking hold of Scorpius.
It took a few more seconds for Hermione to realize where they were.
Why am I here?
Draco made his way to Astoria's grave like he had been there before. It was situated near the edge of the cemetery in a cluster of other seemingly-forgotten graves. Hermione trailed a couple metres behind because this felt private and like she shouldn't be there at all. Astoria's headstone was simple, and Draco placed the flowers in the vase attached to the side.
Astoria Greengrass
January 19th, 1982 – June 3rd, 2006
MEMENTO VIVERE
Draco stood silently for a moment, his shoulders stiff and his spine rigid like he was bracing for a hit. He swallowed hard and said,
"I thought about what I had to say from the moment I heard you were dead. For the longest time I could not come up with anything except, 'I am sorry I did this to you.' I know I was wrong. You were my friend and I used you to cope with what I thought was a suicide mission. I used you and it killed you; I have to live with that now.
"But I looked at Scorpius this morning and realized, 'Oh my God, this is my son!' I knew it, but it was like I was missing the part of myself I needed to love him the right way. I think I resented him because he is the reason you are not here anymore. However, I understand how wrong that is now. This was your decision and I have to respect it, and you know what? I am grateful for Scorpius. I am. He has brought so much into my life that I did not realize I could have because family used to mean something different to me."
Draco broke off and chuckled quietly to himself.
"Everyone loves Scorpius and he gets that from you. Granger and I are two of the most dislikable people on the planet, it seems, so that definitely comes from you. Scorpius does not look like you at all, I'm afraid. He looks like me, so naturally he will attract all the boys and girls at school."
His attempt at humour fell flat. Scorpius stilled in Draco's arms as he finally stopped acting like he could hold himself together. He was crying and had to take a deep breath before he could continue. He shuddered and said,
"Scorp will never get to know you. He will never hear your stupid laugh or get the opportunity to make fun of you for eating those takeaway noodles with a fork. I never loved you and I am sorry for that. Maybe in another life we could have been good parents. Both sets of ours were real shit so we would have at least been an improvement.
"Granger did a good job caring for him; you chose well. You always understood people at their core, which is why I cannot figure out what you saw in me to believe I can be a good father. I know you did not intend for me to end up with all these new people in my life, just Scorpius, but it is so much better than I could have asked for. So much better than I deserve."
Draco was clutching Scorpius, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to catch his attention. Scorpius looked up at his father curiously, recognizing the tears tracking down Draco's face as something bad. Scorpius lifted his arm and tried to press his hand against Draco's cheek to wipe his tears away like Hermione had done for him so many times before. Of course, Scorpius really ended up smacking Draco's in the face, but it did manage to make him smile.
When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with tears he had yet to cry.
"I miss you, Astoria. I took you for granted while you were alive and you still chose to give me all this. I did not deserve that, and you knew it, but you did it anyway. Thank you for choosing me, and thank you for choosing Granger. Hermione and I are building Scorpius the home you would have wanted for him. Together, if you can believe it."
Together.
"Scorp smiles like you. I don't know if you knew, but your mouth made this funny little bean shape when you laughed. Daphne and I used to make fun of you for it. Scorp has my face but he has your expressions. He has your quiet disposition and I pray that we raise him to be as good and as caring as you were.
"I just want you to know that I am never going to forget you," Draco's voice cracked and he pressed his forehead to the crown of Scorp's head. "I will make sure Scorpius grows up to know the kind-hearted person you were, and I will appreciate every part of you that I see in my son."
Hermione couldn't help it, her feet were moving before she told them to. She wrapped her arms around Draco, embracing her family, trying to console him. He cried into her shoulder for a few minutes and she let him because that's how they were going to do things: together.
