Author's Note: Sorry for the continuing delays in posting this story. I find I'm unable to write as quickly as I did a year ago and so it takes longer to get a chapter written.

Thanks, as always, to pagan who is not only an excellent beta but also really patient when listening to my own dilemma when it comes to this story!

In other news, TAM was featured last month over at Hawthorn & Vine. I did a Q&A regarding this story so if you're on LiveJournal, you'll find it posted on the Hawthorn and Vine LJ page if interested.

Decisions and Dilemmas

Hermione couldn't help the laugh that escaped her mouth as she looked across at the supremely confident Malfoy elder.

"I'm sorry, what?!" she asked in disbelief.

"I want you and Draco to pretend that you've been having a secret, romantic love affair but that I refused to countenance his divorce from my pureblood daughter-in-law so Draco could swap her for a Muggle-born."

She had to give Lucius some credit. He'd thought of a decent lie to tell the public but there was no way she was going to play along.

"Whilst I appreciate the thought you've obviously put into this, Mr. Malfoy, I will not feature as someone who would have an affair with a married man."

"I would like you to think this through, Ms. Granger. It's an explanation the public will buy. They'll lap it up like some kind of poorly written romantic melodrama and it's an opportunity for you and Draco to come out as maligned lovers. I'm more than happy to feature as the villain."

Hermione caught Harry taking his glasses off out of the corner of her eye and cleaning them on a fold of his work robes. She could tell that he was as taken aback as she was.

"You know what the public will say, don't you, Lucius," Harry said. "They'll claim that your determined efforts to rehabilitate your family was nothing more than a show."

A small smile played around the older Malfoy's mouth. "It's nothing that they haven't already been thinking. Not many people are willing to believe that my thoughts on blood purity have changed. Perhaps not even you, Mr. Potter."

Harry gave a small nod in acknowledgement of that. It was true that Hermione had held many a conversation with both Harry and Ron about how adept Lucius Malfoy was at squirming his way out of any consequences for his previous actions. But now wasn't the time to be dissecting whether that was true or not. However, she did note that Lucius wasn't denying it, but neither did he confirm those suspicions.

Instead, she turned towards Malfoy. "Are you really going to sit there and be happy to feature as so spineless that you can't stand up to your father at the age of 29?"

He shot her a glare. "Granger, what you have never understood are the dynamics of a pureblood family. It would not be considered strange for me to bow to my father's wishes in the choice of my wife. He is the head of the family and, as such, his opinion holds much sway."

She huffed and folded her arms. "Well, I won't play along with such a ridiculous charade. I think you'll find that the truth will serve us a whole lot better."

"Are you sure, Ms. Granger? Do you think the public wants to believe something as mundane as an accident in a clinic's laboratory has caused you to become pregnant with my son's child?"

"As far as I'm concerned, there is no need for anyone but our immediate circle to be even aware that I'm pregnant, much less with Malfoy's baby."

"The truth will come at some point, especially when you start to show. It won't take long for people to start gossiping about the origins of the pregnancy."

Hermione recognised this as the truth. "All the more need to scotch the rumours now. I'll write a letter to Witch Weekly complaining of their inaccurate reporting and explain that Malfoy and I were just meeting to discuss business."

"And what business would that be?" Lucius asked.

"I don't know; it can't be that hard to think of something."

Malfoy snorted. "Granger, have we any need to meet at all in the last twelve or so years? It's going to look strange if we suddenly claim to be working together now."

Narcissa, who'd been sitting in silence until then, spoke up. "This is a very distasteful situation, Ms. Granger, and whilst I appreciate your concerns, I do believe my husband has hit upon the one thing that would serve us well."

Hermione turned to look at the Malfoy matriarch. She was surprised to see some sympathy in Narcissa's eyes. It made her swallow the rather acerbic retort she was about to make and soften her reply a little. "Be that as it may, I'd rather present a more truthful portrait."

Lucius gave a resigned smile. "I had hoped to convince you, Ms. Granger, but I respect your decision. Draco, see our guests out, please."

Both Hermione and Harry rose and followed Malfoy towards the door. Hermione turned as she filed out of the door last. Her eyebrows rose a little as she saw Lucius let his regal posture go and slump slightly sideways onto the chaise longue, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown of pain.

There was silence as the three former school colleagues made their way back to the travel room. This time, Hermione was deep in thought with no regard to her surroundings. It was obvious that there was something wrong with Lucius Malfoy. He'd been admitted to St. Mungo's yesterday and whilst he had given an aura of wellbeing during their conversation, it seemed to be a façade. Maybe this was why he was so keen to acknowledge a half-blood heir.

Once they'd made it down to the travel room, Harry ushered Hermione towards the Floo powder.

"One minute, Harry. You go first. There are a few things I want to talk to Malfoy about."

Harry gave her a searching look but nodded his head and with a brief grunt of acknowledgement towards Malfoy, threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of emerald green flames.

She turned back towards the blond who was looking at her with interest on his face.

"If we're going to weather this storm, Malfoy, then we need to start being more open with each other. We've committed to having a relationship of sorts for the sake of our child, so I don't appreciate being continually kept in the dark about important things in your life."

He bowed his head as if thinking about his response. The silence dragged on as he continued to contemplate the floor. Just as she was about to verbally nudge him, irritated by his silence, he raised his head and looked her straight in the eye.

"Okay, I'll give it a go."

"What does 'give it a go' mean exactly?" she asked, annoyance colouring her tone.

"Precisely that," he said with a huff, before swinging away from her and pacing up and down the small room. "Look, I'm not good with this. I don't trust easily and I don't share my personal information with people I don't trust."

"That's all well and good but this is hardly a normal situation. I get that you don't necessarily want me to know the ins and outs of your life — I feel completely the same — but we don't have much choice. Your ex-wife didn't just target you, she targeted me also."

"I doubt Astoria gave you much of a thought. This was always about hitting me where it would hurt the most – my family."

"But the fact is, I was pulled into the crossfire, too. This is having as much a negative impact on me as it is you. That's why I need you to start being honest with me. Concealing your marital problems and then not telling me you got divorced last week is not on."

He sighed. "Okay, I'll be more honest with you in future."

"And answer my questions," she interrupted.

He scowled at her. "Do you know how nosy your questions are?"

"Malfoy, will you or will you not tell me what I need to know?"

"Okay, I'll keep you informed. But I'm not committing to answering all your questions. The ones that directly affect you are fine but otherwise, you don't need to know."

"That's all I ask for."

"Oh, I very much doubt that," he muttered.

Hermione scowled but didn't bother to pull him up on it. She'd got more than she thought she would out of this conversation. She walked towards the fireplace and picked up a handful of Floo Powder, was about to throw it into the flames when she hesitated and turned to face Malfoy once more.

"Is you father okay? I heard he was in St. Mungo's yesterday."

"Now that, Granger, falls under no concern of yours."

She pursed her lips in annoyance at his reply. "That's hardly adhering to our new honest-with-each-other policy," she remarked.

He glared at her mutinously but appeared to think better about answering her. "He's currently undergoing investigation for an unknown illness. Yesterday's little expose caused him to convulse."

"He has a mystery illness with convulsions?"

Malfoy just nodded.

"What are St. Mungo's suggesting for treatment?"

"Several things – some of them contradictory. They don't know what's wrong with him."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Last time I checked, you worked for the Ministry, not as a Healer. What exactly do you think you can do to help?"

She shrugged, recognising the truth of his words, even if they were laced with biting sarcasm. "If you need to talk or anything-"she offered before trailing off.

"Yeah, great, thanks for that, Granger. I'll be sure to come to you if I need to unburden my emotions, rather than to my close friends. I bet your two friends would love to hear all about Lucius Malfoy and his illness."

She almost rose to his defensive tone before realising that he was just hitting out because he was probably upset and a little scared. She moved towards him and put her hand lightly on his arm. "I mean it, Malfoy; if you need to talk, you can always come to me."

He looked pointedly at her hand before shrugging it off. "Won't Potter be wondering where you are? If you stay any longer, he'll probably be back with the cavalry in case I've decided to kidnap and hold you hostage until the baby's born."

She smiled a little at that. Harry would be getting worried the longer she stayed here to talk without him.

"Er… do you want me to send you a copy of the letter I plan on writing to the Editor of Witch Weekly?"

"Sure, and if you're going to go down this ridiculous route of pretending we met to discuss business, then I suggest you say that I was sounding you out for a potential place on the Hogwarts School Board of Governors. That school is about the only thing we have in common."

She nodded. It was a good idea. Something that people might buy. For all her scotching of Lucius' plan, she was well aware that the version of the truth she wanted to put out there was boring and therefore unpalatable for the masses who sought salacious gossip.

"Well, I'll see you around, Malfoy."

"Yes… and, Granger, I am sorry that I didn't tell you about my divorce. I guess I'm a little defensive when it comes to my privacy."

Hermione smiled a little tentatively at him, before flinging the powder into the fireplace and disappearing.

That following Sunday found Draco ensconced at his desk. It was hard to believe that just one week ago he'd been flying carefree and happy over the grounds. All his positivity regarding the future had drained away in the rather trying week he'd experienced.

The media furore surrounding him and Granger hadn't settled. Instead, the Daily Prophet had gotten in on the act, publishing wildly speculative articles about the affair. His negative image was so bad that a couple of business associates distanced themselves from him, causing some important deals to collapse.

He now held the latest issue of Witch Weekly in his hands. Rita Skeeter was really going to town. He had to admit that he was getting off lightly compared to Granger. He wasn't sure just what the former Gryffindor had done for Skeeter to hate her that much, but vitriol was pouring from the journalist's quill. Along with several scorching articles, there were the inevitable photos of both him and Granger looking harassed that had been snapped by the incessant photographers that camped out for them to appear in any of the busy wizarding public places.

Granger's letter had been published as well. She'd done well to present a plausible alternative to their situation but the response of the editor printed below wasn't positive. Ethel Scuttlebutt made it perfectly clear that she didn't believe a word of Granger's explanation and that she didn't think her readers should either. Sadly, despite the bushy-haired witch being a well-respected war hero, Draco knew readers would look to follow the editor's lead.

There was a quiet knock on his study door and his mother entered softly.

"What's wrong, Mother?" he asked. "Is Father okay?"

"Yes, he's fine. He took a short walk in the rose garden and is now resting upstairs."

Draco smiled. It was good that his father was up and about. However, this last attack seemed to have hit him harder than any of the previous ones. He now needed the support of his decorative cane to walk. The signs weren't particularly encouraging. The Healers were getting nowhere and Draco was beginning to feel as if he was going to lose his father.

"It's regarding Ms. Granger that I've come to talk to you."

He ran a hand over his forehead. There were permanent furrows etched there right now. "What about her?"

"I really think the pair of you need to think again about following your father's advice."

"How is pretending to have some grand romance going to help our situation?"

"It would bring the public on your side. Stories of star-crossed lovers defeating the odds and breaking down familial prejudice are always popular."

"But we'd still feature as an adulterous couple and Astoria would be still be the wronged woman."

"Yes, but with the right PR, we could make this work for us. And think about it; you could then potentially have everything you want in your grasp. The baby growing up here as a Malfoy."

Draco frowned. "Why would this bring about that scenario?"

"Your father has thought this through. He reckons that if you and Granger play at being a couple for the press, you could announce an engagement in a couple of months. Play the ecstatic parents-to-be and get married before the baby is born."

He pushed away from his desk with a groan and strode over to the window, looking out at the view unseeingly. "I thought you wanted me to be happy?"

"I do, Draco, I do!"

"Then why are you trying to push me into another unhappy marriage? Because that's what this would be. Granger would hate me for manipulating her into it and, if I marry again, then I want it to be for love."

"You'll feel differently once this baby is born."

"What do you mean?"

"You won't want to give the baby up. You'll want to have it living under your roof where you can have access whenever you want and the Granger girl will be the same. Neither of you will want to pass the baby to and fro for access visits. And I'm telling you, Draco, you'll be the loser in the long run. The way the law is going, she'll get more rights than you."

He gripped the windowsill so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I know this, but what choice do I have?"

"Follow your father's plan; sweet-talk Granger into agreeing and you'll have all you want."

Draco scoffed. "It's not as easy that. I think I know the woman better than either you or Father, and she's not one to be persuaded into anything – let alone a plan like this. Instead, if I look to tread this path, I'll push her away even more and before you know it, she'll make sure I have no access to the child."

"Just give it a go. Have you also thought about the stigma the child will face being born out of wedlock?"

He had thought about this; in fact, he'd given it a lot of thought. Unmarried parents were a rarity in the wizarding world. Indeed, he'd never even met someone whose parents hadn't been married when they'd been conceived. They might have divorced later – but even that was rare. He knew this was increasingly normal amongst Muggles, but the magical community was more conservative. Family values were considered key to their survival.

He ran a distracted hand through his hair before turning back to face his mother. "I know this but I'll not push for a marriage for marriage sake. You don't know Granger, Mother, if you think this kind of argument will appeal to her. If she even suspected me of thinking about doing such a thing, she'd rescind all her agreements to contact and we'd be back to the prospect of slugging it out through the courts – which is even less desirable with this scandal."

His mother sighed and sank gracefully into one of the sofa's he'd placed in his study, right in front of the fireplace. "I'm worried, Draco, about what's going to happen to this family. Your father-", she trailed off, unable to continue that line of thinking.

"He's going to be alright. Have faith in the Healers, Mum, they'll find a cure."

"I'm trying to remain positive but I'm beginning to lose hope. He's so fragile after this last attack. I think hiding it from us has made him even weaker now. Instead of taking the time to recuperate before, he was pushing himself to get back on his feet and appear normal."

Pain ripped through him as he saw a tear spill over his mother's eye and trickle down her cheek. He didn't want to have to face the truth of the situation facing him. His father was dying and his mother was falling apart.

"Please don't cry. He'll pull through this. Nothing defeats Lucius Malfoy."

"You can't cheat death, darling."

"Hush, he's not going to die," he objected before wrapping his arms around his mother and pulling her in tight for a hug.

Narcissa gave in to the tears for a little while before composing herself and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid. I've had your father by my side for such a long time that I won't know what to do if he's no longer there. And this baby means so much to him. If you could just bring Granger and the child into the family, I know he'd feel at ease, which could help his illness."

Internally, Draco felt like smashing something. He knew his mother was not deliberately intending to manipulate him, but that was what she was doing. He didn't want to feel that he was letting his father down but at the same time, he knew that pushing Granger for some kind of sham relationship would be the worst thing for them all.

"Just let me deal with this, Mother. Pushing for a false marriage now would do nothing but damage any trust Granger and I are building between us."

She kissed his cheek and gave him a wan smile. "All I ask is that you think about it. Worrying about this is doing your father no good at all."

Hermione rested her forehead against her kitchen table. It was exactly as the Malfoys had predicted: Witch Weekly wasn't interested in anything that wasn't sordid gossip. She had survived the rest of the past week, with all its howlers, whispered words, and dirty looks buoyed up by the thought that those judging her would soon be eating their words. But it hadn't worked out that way and now the adrenaline disappeared, leaving her feeling drained and tired.

She closed her eyes and gave in to her feelings of despair for a brief moment but then she got up and out of her chair once more. She wasn't going to give these people the satisfaction of knowing that they had worn her down. There was no way that Hermione Granger was going to hole up in her house, too afraid to show her face in public.

No, she was going to treat this as any normal Sunday. She was going to visit Diagon Alley to stock up on those potion ingredients she was running low on, buy a gift for James Potter's birthday, which was coming up, and then go to the Burrow for Sunday lunch. She was not going to hide away, embarrassed by something that she hadn't even done.

Hermione's bravado lasted all from the Leaky Cauldron to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary and then to Babbitty Rabbitty's Toy Shop. It was here that she regretted coming. She was looking at Kidz Quidz, a Quidditch range of children's toys, weighing up the delight Harry would have in the children's Snitch or Ginny's fury at the miniature Beaters Bat. James was a force of nature like his twin uncles had been, and Hermione would bet her house on the fact that he was going to be a Beater rather than a Seeker like his father, or a Chaser like his mother or paternal granddad.

The furious whispering from behind her drew her attention away from the difficult decision and she turned to the cause of all the noise. Three women, obviously friends, stood not far from her and were looking her up and down in distaste. They were muttering to each other, which tailed off as she faced them.

Hermione was never one to shy away from confrontation and she wasn't about to start now.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked in a polite but steely tone.

The women looked taken aback, almost as if they'd expected her to flee the shop in face of their disapproval.

The boldest sniffed haughtily. "It's a disgrace seeing someone like you in a family shop."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Shouldn't home wreckers like you be somewhere altogether different, like Fun and Frolics? Somewhere that caters for your kind of people."

Hermione's eyebrows rose at the mention of the racy lingerie shop. It specialised in the sexiest, most outrageous underwear… well, scraps of lace really. She'd only been in there once, just before Ginny's wedding, and she'd actually blushed at some of the garments Ginny had picked out to try on. And it wasn't as if she was a prude.

At any other time, she would've been amused at the idea that she should be shopping there, but not this week and after all the gossiping she'd had to encounter.

"How dare you? How dare you and your interfering cronies over there think that you know anything about me or which shops I should be welcome in?"

There were outraged gasps from the other women. Again, the bold one answered for the group.

"Why, you shameless hussy! How can you stand there and talk to decent folk in that way."

"Oh, so you're calling yourself decent? I think I prefer nosy old crones."

The old battle-axe stalked up to Hermione and grabbed her arm in a crushing grip. "Men stealers are not welcome here and I'm more than happy to go and let the Manager know that it's your custom or ours."

Not appreciating the constraint on her liberty, Hermione withdrew her wand, causing the irritating busybody to halt.

There was an amused laugh to the side of them, in the midst of the small group of people who'd stopped to watch. "I would take my hand off her if I was you. I've been at the wrong end of that wand far too many times," a voice Hermione recognised all too well drawled.

The arguing group all turned to look at the sleek image that was Pansy Parkinson.

"What business is this of yours?" the interfering hag asked.

"It's not really. But consider the warning my good deed for the day. Unless, of course, you enjoy visits to St. Mungo's. Granger really is a dab hand at hexes."

The mean old bag looked down at Hermione's brandished wand with the sort of hesitancy that came with second thoughts. She took advantage of this momentary pause to pull her arm out of the witch's grasp before putting the mini-Beater's Bat back onto the shelf and sticking her nose in the air haughtily.

"I would say it's been a pleasure to make your acquaintance but that would be a lie," she said snootily. "Maybe you should look beyond salacious gossip before accosting perfectly innocent people next time, you judgmental cow."

Hermione didn't bother to wait around to see if hag and her cronies had any reply but turned and walked out of the shop with as much dignity as she could muster. The small crowd that had gathered to watch the confrontation didn't help. Nor were the feelings of gratitude she was currently feeling towards Pansy bloody Parkinson. She did not appreciate being put in this situation and if she'd come across Malfoy at this point, she probably would have been happy to instigate a blazing row with him.

Her pent-up feelings caused her to stride angrily down Diagon Alley, glaring at anyone who happened to look her way.

"Granger, you might want to wait up," Parkinson called behind her.

Hermione stopped and took a deep breath before turning around.

"What do you want, Parkinson?"

"Well, a thank you would be nice."

Hermione's eyebrows rose but the throwaway line did the impossible and diffused her temper.

"I had it under control, but thanks."

"Of course you did," the former Slytherin replied with a hint of sarcasm. "But whilst it was nice to get the thank you, I had an ulterior motive to chasing after you. Have you got a spare half an hour?"

"Why?"

"I want to talk to you."

"What do we have to talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know. A certain blond and the baby the pair of you share."

Hermione quickly shushed her and looked around to see if anyone had heard what Parkinson had said. The last thing she needed was for her pregnancy to be breaking news on the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow.

"I'm expected at the Burrow in about an hour, but I guess that gives me time for a drink. But if we're going to be discussing that particular topic, then we do it in Muggle London."

Parkinson shrugged. "It's all the same to me," she said. "Lead on, I'll follow."