~*~The Verdict~*~

The trial of Winfred Brighton had gone on with barely a whisper into his ear, but he had been preoccupied with a certain wily temptress. When he realized Potter had cancelled Hermione's subscription to the Daily Prophet and bribed her boss Benson with lifelong tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, he understood why the news had seemed a little silent. He contented himself with the fact that the beautiful creature beside him had no plans to leave and was quite vocal when he pressed the right buttons.

But it hadn't all been sexual encounters that they had had. Aside from being naked at the time, they had had a wonderful day getting to know as much as they could about each other.

He knew now about her parents, the dentists, and the traditions they had, such as the letters they had sent her every week at Hogwarts, and the extent of love she exhibited by hiding her parents away so thoroughly. He knew more about the escapades of their school years than he had ever thought possible and even though over half of them included Potter and Weasley, nothing lit up her face more than being able to share all these secrets with him.

His secrets weren't nearly so laugh-inducing to hear, but he told them all the same. And nothing felt better after a bad memory than pressing his face against her chest and hearing her heartbeat and having the assurance that she wasn't running or judging...that she understood.

He had made love to her so many times he had lost count, yet each time was as memorable as the last and he hated the thought of her moving on from him.

That morning she was sitting at the island in her kitchen, dividing a bit of egg between their two plates. She was wearing a blue dress, not exactly periwinkle and her bare feet stretched out on her toes made her calves defined. He felt sick to his stomach, so he stepped behind her and curled himself as closely as he could to her back.

"Good morning." she whispered with a smile and he squeezed tighter.

"Could you turn on the radio?"

"What for?" Her hair tickled his nose, but it was such a familiar feeling that he simply closed his eyes to it.

"Just...please."

"Okay." He released her and she made her way to the radio on the dining room window sill, turning the knob manually. After spending a month in her presence, he was used to her muggle habits. They had this urge to toucheverything.

"The trial of esteemed-or once esteemed-Auror Winfred Brighton has finally come to an end. There was quite the wait, as the deliberation carried over into the night and eventually postponed until this very morning." The man's voice blared from the speaker and he coughed lightly as he listened to a series of charges against the accused.

Hermione distracted him by filling a glass with cold milk and handing him his plate. The frigid liquid helped soothe his roiling stomach. So did the food on the plate. He had found out the third day of his stay that she could fry an egg like no one else. Her culinary abilities, she told him, had only developed after classes which were driven by the groans and twisted faces she had gotten out on the run. She hated not being good at things and had found a magical cooking class as well as a muggle one. He assured her that it paid off.

"The verdict is in...the defense is not looking pleased. It looks as though all thirteen witnesses worked for the prosecution...and, yes, Winfred Brighton has been found guilty!" The lively reporter's voice was drowned out by sound of loud chatter in the background.

Draco scooped the last of his food into his mouth and stood. His feet carried him around the island to the humming woman by the sink and he wrapped himself around her again. She leaned back into his embrace and sighed.

"You're clingy." she whispered.

"Is that a problem?"

"Not at all."

He kissed her neck. "I have to go do some things...I should be back in a few hours at most."

"Are you going to your father?" She turned in his arms and made it impossible for him to focus by gazing straight into his eyes.

"Yes." He hemmed in his urge to tell the truth.

"All right." Hermione stretched up and kissed him sweetly, almost as if he were a fragile piece of glass. "Be safe."

He bowed his head in answer and left, hurrying to escape before he was trapped in the urge to never leave.

His first stop was Malfoy Manor. He refused to make his first public appearance as Draco Malfoy in four years dressed in his 'functional' robes, at least that was his excuse. Instead, he wore his best muggle suit, jet black and pressed, with silver cuffs and a perfectly tied tie. His hair was long enough to bind behind his head with a ribbon and he had to ask his mother to do the honors as he had only ever seen his father do it in passing.

She looked on the verge of tears as he turned around. "You look so much like him."

He kissed her head and left, thinking of the place Hermione had taken him to days ago. He hadn't wanted to draw attention to his father prematurely, so he denied himself the treat of actually seeing his father, but today he was going forward at a brisk pace for just that purpose.

There was a hole in the nameplate, which had been there when they had stood a few meters back so he could have an idea of where the place was. He reached up to caress the name Narcissus Wileaux, but had to draw his hand back to his side when a thin man pulled open the door with a smile on his face. Draco averted his eyes as he returned a stranger's smile and entered the building.

It was quaint and spartan, which was so unlike his father he congratulated the man's intelligence. The woman at the desk gave him a cursory glance before pulling out a piece of parchment for him to fill out. He shook his head and waved her offering away.

"Is he free?"

The woman nodded. "But Mister Wileaux will need a form..."

He waved his hand again. "He expects me or at the very least he will welcome me. Thank you."

The office door opened silently and he closed it with a deliberate click. A rustle of paper greeted his action and he heard a chuckle.

"Someone is overly eager." Draco turned and saw his father...or what he supposed had to be his father. Black hair, cut short and curled, topped the regal face he only just recognized. The eyes though, were something he knew well.

"Father. Brighton has been found..."

"Guilty." Lucius signed a document and flicked his index finger, sending it into a folder that had popped out of a drawer long enough to gobble it up. "Have you found yourself a wife?"

The tick that started in his jaw had little to do with anger, it was disappointment.

"I have."

"Why is she not here? I know you did not come just to see me...you never were that type."

"I was whatever you wanted me to be, father...whether or not it was really me you were seeing." Draco remained standing, since sitting implied prolonged conversation. "Remove the glamor."

"That I cannot do. There were rules to this, my son, that I will not break."

"I'm not asking you to change your mind...I'm asking you to be my father. I have found a woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, I have found happiness after years of loneliness and torment, I have been able to breath for the first time since I got the Mark." He didn't realize he was crying or pleading, he simply leaned against the chair in front of him for support. "I don't want to lose her...and I don't want to have to tell her a lie when I hit the boundaries of a Vow I made to you. You would never have accepted this if you were me and she was mother. You would have fought until you had her because you loved her. Wouldn't you?"

His father lowered his eyes. "I thought I made it clear to both of you."

"You did." Draco stepped forward. "She even tried to get me to understand that it was the only way, but I refuse to let you do this. I refuse to let your fear rule us like Voldmort did."

"Don't say his name." Lucius' eyes were ablaze and his hand cradled his left wrist.

"Does it hurt, father? I can barely tell anymore." Draco lifted his sleeve and pressed his fingers against the blackened scar, for that was what it was.

"Put your sleeve down."

"Why? Is someone going to murder me for showing it? I've been showing everyone for years, singing about it even. You knew and you never stopped me. Voldemort is dead, father. Only this remains of him. Brighton has been found guilty, he's been given life in Azkaban...just short of the Kiss. Why can't you let me go?"

"I won't let you marry a mudblood...I cherish the blood, but I will not mix it."

Draco smirked, running his tongue along his teeth. Somehow he had known. "What if I told you I already married her?"

All color drained from his father's face. The man stood and all his flying files crashed to the ground. "You haven't. I would have known."

"Not if I secretly married her...yesterday." He was so determined he managed to tell the lie properly.

"If what you say is true, you will never have a Malfoy heir."

"Your problem not mine. Perhaps I will take the name Granger and send them to dentist school or muggle university. Or they could be lawyers like that dear old granddad they never got meet."

"You wouldn't."

"I would. I will do what it takes to have her be my wife, glamor or no, name or no. Even if Draco Malfoy never sees the light of day again, Issac Turin will have the best life he can ever have...and the best muggleborn wife any man has ever had. Maybe I'll write a song about you."

"I will never forgive you, Draco. Never." Lucius eyes were conflicted.

"Hate me then, but let me have what I love love me as me, not Issac Turin." Draco stepped to his father's side and pressed a hand to the man's shoulder. "Father, please."

"I could not live and hate you simultaneously, son."

"I could not hate you either, father."

"I get to name the first boy."

Draco smiled past his misty eyes. "Whatever you want."

A/N: I apologize for taking so long, but when I got the urge to write I got sidetracked by the amount of shows I had to catch-up on and then my sister coerced me into watching Hangover Part II and by the time I wanted to crawl over to the computer I got the mother of all migraines and had to sleep it off. Luckily Excedrin works like magic and I was ready to post by the time I got onto my normal routine. I believe I have one chapter left, two if I make an epilogue, so everyone prepare. Thank you for reading, please review. Tickle2Kill