A/N: Thank you to all my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have put this fic on their favorite list. I sure appreciate it!

Thank you to: hkmac, Musette Fujiwara, Vaneesa85, Jessica682, Kou Shun'u, Angel Girl5, Guest, Angelus Draco, and sweet-tang-honney for the reviews. I got some comments about Pansy and what she is up to. We shall see, we shall see. I also got some comments about Ron. Don't judge him too harshly. I'm not saying I have little faith in men or fathers, but I have not personally met one (including my own sweetheart and daddy) who eagerly bounded up the stairs or down the hallway to kiss their children goodnight. It doesn't mean they're bad fathers or husbands or that they don't give their children attention. I've come to find that men show their affection differently than women when it comes to kids. Anyway, enough of that.

I also got a couple of questions, and I'll answer one of them because I don't want to give too much away. I got asked if Astoria would be popping up in the future, and I will say yes.

Now on with Chapter 29! Read and Review, please, and tell me your thoughts.


Present Day

"That's how you found out? Simply by accident?" questioned Narcissa and she cocked her head to the side. "Where was Draco going?"

"Where do you think?"

Narcissa was silent for a moment and then diffidently nodded. "To Salem."

"To Salem," Pansy verified. "But I didn't know it at the time."

"And you said he came back for a piece of parchment? What was on that parchment that was so important?" the older woman asked and watched the younger witch's eyes succumb with something akin to pity.

Pansy resituated herself in the seat and rested her forearms on the table and said, "I wasn't sure then. I didn't even think about it right away. You can imagine I was still in shock at discovering that Draco had a child."

"What was on the parchment?" Narcissa asked again.

Pansy looked away and knitted her eyebrows together, physically telling Narcissa that she was troubled. "The parchment was a letter and…let me tell you delicately, Mrs. Malfoy. I feel like I can't simply drop this on you."

"Pansy," Narcissa's voice hitched in worry, "What happened?"

She cast another Cooling Charm on her face and said, "Something tragic."

Pansy continued where she left off, standing in Draco's flat on Christmas night, strictly leaving out personal anecdotes. Mrs. Malfoy did not need hear them.


December 2007

"Gods!" she wailed and went to wipe underneath her eyes but realized she still had the picture in her hand. Staring at the photograph of the boy, her thumb rubbed over the glass, tracing the boy's features. There was no denying who the boy belonged to. He was completely Draco with the exception of the curls.

She shuffled back into his office and placed the picture back into the drawer and then grabbed the open bottle of ink still on the desk and threw it against the wall, splattering black ink and glass everywhere.

"You- You pillock! How could you keep this from me?! I'm your friend, you bastard! How could you not tell me?!" she screeched and then closed her eyes and moaned. Morgana, what was she doing? What kind of sophisticated woman, dutiful mother of four, patient and loving wife throws a tantrum inside her friend's office? She wasn't sixteen anymore.

Taking deep breaths to calm her emotions and nerves, Pansy relaxed in Draco's chair for few pensive moments before pointing her wand at the mess she made and cleaned it up. There was little use in doing anything else with Draco not present. Wherever he went, he best be prepared for the interrogation of his life upon his return because she was going to pounce on him. Until then, though, she needed to pull herself together and go back home.

"You took a bit longer than I thought you would," Ron said to her when she entered her daughter's room. He was holding their five-year old, Rose, and she rested limply in his arms, her head slack on his shoulder and her breathing heavy. Her husband squint his eyes at her and frowned. "Are you alright? You looked frazzled."

"Yeah," Pansy vaguely replied and shook her head, walking further into her daughter's room.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"I wasn't gone that long."

"Longer than necessary."

"What are you implying?"

Ron said nothing but kissed Rose on the cheek and laid her down gently on the bed and tucked her in. The little girl shifted a bit, bringing both her hands near her ears and started snoring, her snores sounding similar to a dying bee. He smiled down at her and brushed away the stray, ginger strands from her forehead.

"Answer me," Pansy demanded and followed Ron out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

"Nothing," Ron mumbled and stopped at his bedroom door. "I implied nothing. Goodnight."

"No, no. You implied something. You said I was gone longer than necessary. What did you mean by that?"

Ron banged his head against the door and then growled, "You know what I meant, Pansy."

"Jealousy is unbecoming, and there's certainly nothing to be jealous of. Draco and I are-"

"Friends," her husband finished bitterly, his face still facing the door. "You two are positively chummy."

"Ron," she said while sucking in a deep breath and took a step towards him and placed her hand on his bicep and affectionately told him, "I love you. He's my friend, but you're my best friend. I would never have an affair."

She heard him sniffle and wondered if he had snuck a drink in her absence. He then asked quietly, "Then why won't you let me back in the bedroom? It's not right sleeping in separate rooms."

"Because we need our space right now. That's what the Mind-Healer said, remember? She told us-"

"Bullocks is what she said. I get that I'm not supposed to drink, but I can't even shag my wife until that bleedin' harpy gives me the go ahead."

"She wants what's best for our marriage."

"It's healthy to shag in a marriage. We haven't in almost a year. That is not a marriage. What we're doing," Ron waved his hand between them, "isn't real. It's fake."

"Don't say that. You…you agreed to the sessions, and I came with you."

"When I needed them, Pansy. I don't need them anymore."

"But your drinking-"

"Is because I can't even get my wife to look at me like I'm her husband? Sure, we are all good and dandy for the kids, for our friends."

Pansy covered her face and wept silently into her hands and then said, "Maybe we should go see a different Healer."

"Yeah, that'll do it. Still trying to fix me. Can't see that I'm bleedin' fine-"

"Not a Mind-Healer, Ron," she sobbed. "We need to fix us. We're not happy, and we cannot risk our babies' wellness because we don't know how to communicate with each other."

"Bloody hell," her husband cursed and turned around to resume banging his head against the door. "Marriage counseling. I don't want to go to one of those." He stopped hitting his head and then said, "Let's just shag."

Wiping her eyes, Pansy scoffed, "Sex isn't the answer to this problem."

"Uh…yeah it is. We haven't in a long time. If there are more problems, then at least we can remedy this one."

"Ronald, I'm really not in the mood."

"Of course not. It's only been a year since your last shag. You know, I remember a time I couldn't get you off of me."

"I remember, as well." Pansy came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his back. "It's why we got married."

"I thought we got married because we loved each other," her husband said, a hint of resignation in his voice.

"Well…yes," Pansy sniffled and sort of smiled, "that, too. But, darling, we both agreed if it hadn't been for Rose, we would have waited a couple of more years."

Ron was silent for a while and then whispered, "I'm glad she didn't want to wait."

"Me, too," she said back and squeezed her arms tighter around her husband. "I think I want to shag you now."

While lying next to her husband, Pansy stayed awake, rehashing in her mind of what had occurred at Draco's flat. Her active thoughts were causing her restlessness, and she had been unable to fall asleep and around three in the morning, she slipped out of bed and walked the halls of her house and checked in on Joseph and Jacob, then Matthew, and then Rose.

For the next couple of days, she went her daily tasks of taking care of her children until she got word from Narcissa that Draco was back and wasted no time in Apparating over to his flat on the evening of the 27th.

"Draco," she called out to him while standing in the middle of his sitting room. She craned her head around in search for him. "Where are you? You're mother said you came back from a brief trip in Brittany. We have much to talk about concerning what happened a couple of days ago."

Silence.

"Draco," she called for him again and went towards his office, beginning and ending her search there. In the dark, he sat at his desk with a near-empty glass of scotch and completely empty bottle next to him, his head hung low and his breathing choppy.

"Draco, my Gods. What are you doing here sitting in the dark like some weirdo? Are you alright?" She went to turn on the light but thought better of it and instead sat down in the chair across him. He hardly moved or even gave her the impression he noticed her entrance. She tilted her head and bent her back to see if his eyes were open, and they were. Her friend sat motionless in his chair, and the only sound in the room was his breathing, and all she could think was something horrible must have happened. Dear Merlin, she hadn't seen him like this since he was sixteen.

"What happened?" she asked and reached her hand towards his and covered it, squeezing to get some sort of reaction. "You can tell me, Draco. I'm your friend. Why are you acting this way?"

His reply was so quiet, she had to strain her ears to hear his words. "Am I a monster?"

"Pardon?" Pansy inquired in confusion and leaned forward. "A monster? No."

"Am I bad person?"

"…no. Draco what-'

"Can I ever be forgiven for my sins from the war?"

"The war? Draco, please don't think about the war. Is that why you're holed up here in the dark? You got thinking about the war and decided to ease the memories with a drink or twenty? I suddenly feel at home." She whispered the last part to herself and leaned over further and took the glass away from him.

"Can't help it," he mumbled and then sniffed and let out a wet, mirthless chuckle. "She makes me think about it every time."

"Who does?"

"She doesn't even have to tell me to. The way she treats me," her friend wept, and in the dark, she could see his shoulders stutter and her heart ached for him, but she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Who, Draco?" she asked.

Draco's body shook as his right hand came to the buttons on his left sleeve. He unbuttoned it as if his fingers were numb, slow and sloppy. He pulled up the cuff and exposed his faded but still visible Dark Mark above his wrist.

"That's all she sees now. I think she used to see more than that. She used to say," he lowered his head on his desk and continued, "she used to say she loved me, but I don't think she does anymore."

Pansy shook her head and said, "Who are you talking about?"

"I want a life with her," Draco said in emotional determination and sat up straight again and then scanned his eyes over his desk. "Where's my drink?"

"I think you've had enough," she said and he peered at her like he finally realized he was not alone in his office.

"Pansy, what are you doing here?" he slurred in alarm.

"I came here to have questions answered, but I have found myself in a position where I have more questions. Draco, what were you going off about? The war? A girl? Do you…Do you have a girlfriend or something?"

"I did, but I don't…" His sentence faded and his chest stuttered in preparation for more weeping. "Pansy, how can your husband bear to look at you?"

"Excuse me," she balked, gaping at him in dubiety. What did he just say to her?

"How can The Weasel look at you knowing and hearing with his own freckled ears what you said at the Battle? How you wanted to offer up his best friend in exchange for a reward from the Dark Lord? Why did he marry you? Why does he love you?"

"Oh my Gods," Pansy said in a hushed voice, her eyebrows meeting with her hairline. "You dare bring that up, you hypocrite? Like you're so much better? At least my sins can't be seen." She pointed at the marred skin accusingly, her defensiveness overruling her maturity and senses. "How can anyone look at you knowing-"

"I want to know how he can look past your flaws!" roared Draco and violently swept his hands across his desk and brought quills, parchment, and files crashing to the floor. Pansy jumped in her seat and stood up, her heart racing in her chest, instinct telling her she was in danger and should leave.

"You need to calm down, Draco. If you do so, I will overlook this-"

"No! I want to know how you got your husband to love you and to marry you and to have more than one baby with you! I want to know how the bloody hell did you get him to trust you, Parkinson?! He used to hate you! How has he not cast you out of his life, out of your children's lives?! How can he forgive you for being the stupidest bitch in Hogwarts?! Because, seriously, I can't imagine the sex being great enough to make up for everything."

"I'm leaving," Pansy was about to say but her departing words fell short when Draco plopped back down his chair and said, "She can't forgive me. She says she has, and maybe she believes it, but I know. I know she hasn't. She pretends like she has, but I saw the truth this time. She doesn't trust me, and why should she? I'm a monster begat by monsters."

Debating whether to leave or not, Pansy tapped her foot and then decided to try one more time despite wanting nothing more than to beat Draco within an inch of his pitiful life.

"Did something happen in Brittany that you would like to talk about?" she tried again, impatience heavily coating her question.

"I didn't go to Brittany," he said softly and pensively.

"You didn't? Where did you go if it wasn't Brittany?"

Draco smiled shortly. "I went to see him…and her."

"Draco, please." She put a hand on her chest. "You're aching to tell me something, but I will not grapple like we're in a guessing game. Just tell me, so I can help you."

"I went to see Scorpius. I always see him at Christmas. His mother, too."

"Scorpius," Pansy repeated and then realization hit her. "That's his name. The boy in the picture. That's his name."

"I love him. He's my prince. I wish I could see him more, but his mother and my parents and-"

"Who's his mother?"

He shook his head and groaned, "I can't say."

"You've already said so much. It won't hurt to say more," Pansy assured and even in Draco's drunken state, he looked at her in disbelief.

"She thinks it will."

"She's not here right now. She doesn't have to know that you told me. I won't tell anybody. I promise. This will be our secret and ours alone. Remember when we were little and I would keep your secrets? I still haven't told anybody you wet the bed until you six."

"I told Blaise and Theo your first kiss was your cousin Peter."

Pansy pressed her lips together tightly before replying in a thin voice, "I know. That's why I said I kept your secrets and not that we kept each other's secrets."

"And that you used tongue."

"I still won't tell anyone."

"I also told them you stuffed your bra from Third Year up."

"Which wasn't a secret, it was a lie you told because I wouldn't let you touch my breasts, you sick little pervert."

"She won't let me touch her breasts, either," Draco said sullenly. "She used to let me, and she'd get all fussy and cute about it and blushed like she was fifteen again. I think I loved her at fifteen, too, but she never blushed for me then. I didn't get to touch her knockers then, either."

"You knew her at fifteen," Pansy said. "She went to Hogwarts with us? Who is she?"

A glazed over expression of dewiness flittered over Draco's face and he smiled at the ceiling like he was recalling a memory. "Remember when she did spew?"