Disclaimer: Of course, these lovely characters do not belong to me. I do borrow them for my idea.

Thank you to all of you kind followers and the reviews. I do think that you will enjoy this one.

Enough

June 2006

"Come on now, Draco has always been horribly rude." He glanced up from the glass he was holding as he conversed with Blaise. While his mother had taken charge of his birthdays over the last few years, he had made his own selection of guests this year. He was tired of entertaining Goyle or his like and preferred a much smaller group. At least this way he was able to have pleasant conversations.

His eyes however were now on someone he hadn't expected for his celebration. Not that he hadn't wanted her to come, she simply had declined to join the snake's nest. He glanced at Daphne who seemed rather proud of her accomplishment to drag an unprepared Hermione to this event – jeans, sweater, and messy bun inclusive.

"Hermione." Lovegood did the honors of jumping to Granger's rescue, while he was still eyeing Daphne, trying to figure out what his friend was trying to accomplish. Judging by Granger's wardrobe she had been caught on her hunt for more books, before returning to her room or the cottage. They were comfortable clothing and not meant for anyone but family to see.

"Tell her she is welcome here, Draco." Daphne suddenly stood by his side as she demanded his next step.

"She knows that she is welcome here." He gave the blonde Greengrass a death glare, before continuing. "She had research she needed to get done."

While Daphne wouldn't believe him, he did have this conversation with Granger. He did tell her she could and should attend, even mentioning Blaise's plan to bring Lovegood along. She had declined to go on about her research and finally admitting that it wasn't her preferred social circle. He did understand, as he had no desire to spend her birthday in a cloud of red hair either and in contrary to everyone's belief, they did not date.

He felt Daphne pull at his sleeve giving him another determined look.

"Why don't you stay, since Daphne so graciously dragged you out here already?" He rolled his eyes, as he spoke towards Granger. The witch looked rather uncomfortable but was already being pushed towards the sitting group by Lovegood, Theo surprisingly trailed behind them.

"Why don't you join them." He gave the Daphne a pointed look before he turned back to an amused Blaise.

That was the disaster his birthday had been. He knew he should have just left for work that morning, but after his mother had threatened to plan a party for him, he had agreed to the small gathering. He hadn't spoken with Granger about the occurrence or the fact that she seemed to get along quite well with Theo. He had been gone for most of the past two weeks, only checking in on the progress at the cottage once.

It was almost at the point where Granger could move in. He hadn't even planned to be here today, but as it turned out his mother wasn't the only one to throw a summer solstice gathering. So, his coworkers were in the belief he was attending his mother's event, while she believed that he attended an event in Italy, and in the meantime, he was hiding out at Granger's cottage finalizing the last few charms for wall coloring and flooring.

He stepped out the back door, staring at the vastness of the ocean. The sun had set, so he couldn't see much but he was simply enjoying the peace and quiet of not attending anything. Would Granger let him hide here after all the work was done? He wasn't sure. Their relationship was a weird one. He let her chat and she listened surprisingly well to his points on her research, but he wasn't sure if they were even friends in the traditional sense. His mother had pointed out that Hermione had forgiven them long ago, but that wasn't the underlying problem. The problem was that he couldn't let it go. And it also wasn't Bellatrix and her doings that haunted him these days.

It was this new and better society that left her out just like this terrible old one had.

The wards summed around him and he glanced back to the house in surprise. It wasn't nearly late enough for mother's party to be over. He huffed almost feeling caught and headed back inside. He remained in the back of the house for a while, anticipating that she would join him shortly, but she didn't come.

Draco walked towards the front, but there was no Granger to be found. Not until he stepped out the front door. She stood a few steps away from the house, almost frozen. Her hand held her wand, so he lifted his arms in surrender, not prepared for an actual hex hitting him.

"Just me, Granger.", he yelped, holding his side, barely moving out of the way for a second hex.

"Why aren't you in Italy?" Why was her voice so aggressive?

"I wanted to check on the flooring." Lie. "It's all done."

"Okay." She didn't move. Her wand was still trained on him.

"Granger, would you mind?" The wand lowered, but she didn't move. One hand pressing against his side, he made a few careful steps towards her. She was beautiful in a dress of light blue fabric ending just over her knees. Fitting for a summer event like his mother's solstice celebration. Her hair was mostly up, all but a few curls who looked like they were accidentally loose, but he was sure Rok or another elf had strategically placed them.

She was beautiful, but her eyes were full of sorrow, and turning red from tears she seemed to have wiped away.

"What happened?" He raised a hand to her face, but she backed away.

"What happened?" She echoed. Scaring him really. "It's so good of Narcissa to still keep her charity towards the girl. All those years after the divorce." Her wand hand shook, having him back away. "I heard she took the girl in after her second marriage to a pureblood ended just as badly."

Draco wasn't sure, if her step towards him was conscious, as her voice became shriller with every word she repeated. He didn't even have time to comprehend those witches calling Weasley a pureblood rather than a blood traitor. She rambled on. "Makes you wonder if they are just not meant to marry. Merlin knows the responsibility to take care of one's husband and children. She couldn't possibly know."

Another step towards him.

"My husband is on the board for St. Mungo's. Says she is decent, but not cut out for more. They keep being charitable of course, giving her a caseload to keep her occupied."

Her voice reached a new octave, and for a moment he almost expected his aunt Bellatrix to appear from worn off Polyjuice.

"I heard she begged Narcissa to be allowed in the family past the war." Before he could react, she pushed him, apparently unaware of her own strength. He stumbled, one hand still at his side, just barely keeping his balance.

"Good thing she didn't. My sister's husband heard at the ministry that her husband left for the lack of an heir. One imagines, bad enough to have her blood mixed in, but not having an heir at all."

Did they even know who her husband had been? He was too stunt by her last quotation, in a high-pitched voice with a weird posh accentuation, when she shoved him again. As he stumbled backward, he stepped on some sort of rock or root, losing his balance. It hurt hitting the ground and his mouth betrayed him, letting out a yelp of pain.

When he looked back up at her, he noticed her eyes were widened, her free hand over her mouth, before she stumbled towards him. His hand finding his wand, made her stop.

"I'm sorry. I didn't…" Her eyes were on his wand, her own loosely by her side. Before he could say anything, she hurried away to the house. He groaned when he came back to his feet, making a mental note to not mess with her.

There was a pain in his right foot, which had twisted over the root and of course, his back hadn't just hit soft grass but rather an assortment of rough rocks. He walked slowly back to the house. Contemplating if it would be less painful to just leave, but not being willing to leave her. He closed the door with a wink of his hand, carefully peering around the corner. She was facing her small kitchen area. The kitchen itself was already there, simply lacking the appliances. She stood in front of the sink, her hands playing with the running water.

"I was going to make you something to cool your side. The hex numbs out when it's cold."

His schoolboy-self wanted to point out that she was a witch and healer. Magic would certainly just fix everything. He kept quiet. Slowly moving towards her, careful not to put more weight on his foot than necessary.

Granger spun around, catching his pained expression before he moved back to his good foot.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry." He was stunned silent and stiffened, when she sank down in front of him, peeling the leg of his black trousers up. Her hands ran right at the edge of his shoe, still not being able really to see the injury.

"It's fine."

"No, it's not." Before he could say anything, she had her wand out again. At least she remembered that part of her identity. Having one of his expensive shoes vanished was not something he had anticipated, but after she pulled the sock of as well, her hands began to twitch and stretch his food. His pained hisses seemed to instruct her, as he stumbled backward until his arms found the security of the kitchen cabinets.

He heard her murmur unfamiliar words and could feel things shift around in his angle. He didn't dare to step on it yet, as she let go of it.

"Thanks."

A nod. Her eyes were still on the ground. Her wand useless next to her now. He should really ask her to look after his side too but didn't. She had deflated. Her anger seemed gone, although he wouldn't take a risk yet. It wasn't until he crouched down next to her that noticed the drops collecting on her arms and dress.

He swallowed. How did he always end up with the crying version of Granger? Was this some sort of revenge of the universe for teasing her so much in his youth?

"This is never going to end, is it?"

She sobbed now. Draco sank to the floor next to her, carefully reaching for her hand to take in his. It probably never would. That's why he always liked his work outside of the UK. People cared less about him and his past mistakes.

"I did my part. I fought in the war. I paid my price, why doesn't it stop?"

Without another thought, he carefully pulled her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry. It wasn't like there were words that could make this better. The things these people had said were cruel. Just like the things he had said when he was younger. Hadn't he been fearing for his life for the past few years with Voldemort, he probably would still be as stuck up as they were. It was easy to go back to your beliefs when he hadn't lived in your house. When you hadn't watched him feeding professors to his snake and when you hadn't destroyed someone's life by the simple and unintended marriage to her.

She was in his arms. Finally beginning to calm. He glanced around, finally drew his wand to transfigure the chairs in the adjoining living space into a decent-sized couch. As he had over a year ago, he carefully lifted her before placing her on the cushions. His side still hurt, but she didn't need to know that. Looking around once more he finally found the stack of fabric samples in a corner and stood to get a few of them to transform into pillows and a blanket for her.

"Stay." Her voice was so soft at this point that he thought he had imagined it until her hand slipped around his arm.

"I'm not leaving." His eyes found hers to reassure and with a sigh, he crouched in front of the couch, deciding on a spell to let the samples fly over. She watched as he started to transfigure the different materials into a pillow and blanket for her. After she was tugged in, he sank to the floor next to the couch, leaning his back against it.

"You really should tell mother that you aren't attending these things anymore." He rubbed at his trousers as if there was actual dirt there. "Tonight, proofed that she won't listen to me."

It was silent behind him and by the time he raised a hand, to massage the tight muscles in his neck, he was convinced she had fallen asleep.

"Was that why you told her, she shouldn't invite me?"

He glanced over his shoulder but looked away when his eyes met her curious glance. Apparently, she had been in her own thoughts this whole time. He had almost forgotten about that day in the library. How mad she had gotten about him telling Narcissa to leave her out of these events. They had never talked about it again. Daphne would be so disappointed if she found out.

"Nothing really changed." He didn't clarify beyond that. She knew that he was talking about the prejudice of the sacred 28. "I think it will actually take all 28 to have half-blood children and even then, they will come up with a reason why they are better."

"Percentage of pure blood."

"Something like that."

"How would they even do that? Pureblood 100, muggle-born 0? I mean Harry's dad was a pureblood, his mom muggle-born, his wife pure blood, what does that make his children? 70% and what would that be good, decent?"

He could feel the tightness of his neck move up and was sure it would be causing a headache. He pressed his thumb more tightly against one of the pressure points in his neck. Sometimes that helped. The ache on his side seemed to settle, as he didn't move anymore.

"They would be 75%." He heard her laugh, the movement of her blanket and the transfigured couch before he shot forward at the touch of her hand to this neck. The pain floating back through his side.

"Lean back." He glanced over his shoulder and noticed she was now sitting with crossed legs right behind him. "Your blood is not losing percentage points from my touch."

He stiffened even more, although he thought he heard the sarcasm in her voice. He eyed her for a moment more, but the distinct feeling of a headache forming let him finally follow her instructions. Her touch was a lot softer than what his fingers had been doing, but gently working up and down his neck. They were silent again and he felt his brain visibly slowing down the thought process when his neck started to relax.

"That system would be even more messed up, don't you think?" Apparently, her brain was still going on the topic. "I mean let's say you and Daphne have a daughter, who ends up marrying James or Albus, their kids would be like 87,5%. Surely that would be good. Although their great grandmother was a muggle-born."

Her fingers seemed to play with his hair now.

"But let's say you and I had a daughter, who married one of the Potter boys, that would lower it back to almost 60%. I guess there are a lot of muggles in that scenario."

"The real question, Granger, is why in both scenarios my daughter is running off with a Potter."

Silence behind him. He was sure he had offended her but then he heard a stiffeled giggle. Granger giggled. He wanted to turn, but her hands were still working on his neck and he noticed how he relaxed.

"It's not that unlikely that my daughter would marry a Potter." She finally declared like it was a real option that she would be the mother to his daughter. "But let's say we have two and one marries a Potter and one like Theos kid, who is still 100%."

"Who is Theo married to in this scenario?"

"I don't know, a Greengrass sister?"

"Unlikely."

"Right, because us being married with two daughters is an actual fact."

He stiffened. Her hands stopped, clearly noticing his reaction.

"But the point is, do we love the daughter with the grandkids of higher percentage more?"

"In your crazy world, we probably would be expected to." Not that it was any concern to him, what any of his daughters would do since there hadn't been girls born to a Malfoy in centuries.

"It's nuts. I mean there are all these genetic aspects that would prove that blood doesn't just mix 50:50."

She had started again running her fingers up and down his neck, changing the pressure as she went. Occasionally one of them stopped, to play with his hair. He wondered if she realized what she was doing, or if her mind was too far into percentage calculations. His own mind began to wander as the signs of headache started to disappear.

When he had started to realize that his father's believe couldn't be all there was to the problem he had done the research. Very covered of course, wouldn't want to explain that to the Dark Lord. But he had looked into the whole genetics' thing and especially how a child without magic within their relatives would suddenly pop up and be as powerful as Granger. He hadn't come to a sound conclusion, finally deciding the theory of magic working like nature to restore a balance was probably right.

Of course, that would never be enough for any of his parent's generations if there wasn't a change of heart. It would have to be them to change the world like they always had.

"Daphne was saying the other day that all of this will die with our parents."

Her hands withdrew. When he turned to her, he saw her leaning back, her hands now in her lap, staring at them.

"Well, I'm sure Daphne and you will be a good example of what pureblood couples don't have to be." Her voice was quiet. She was no longer joking. Her hands pulled the blanket back up and around her before she sank back on the pillow.

He stared at her. Shouldn't she be happy that he was trying to stop this nonsense?

"I'll definitely sit out on your wedding, no matter what Narcissa says."

"My what?"

"Your wedding, everyone was talking about it today. How you were gone to finish your project so you would be back finalizing plans with Daphne and how Daphne wasn't there because she was in France to find her dress."

Draco still stared. His mother would probably slap him for his rudeness. What was Granger talking about? And why did she seem to get smaller with every word she said? When he didn't respond she closed her eyes.

"Wouldn't look good for the ex-wife to be there."

"Daphne and I aren't getting married." His voice was full of irritation. Her eyes opened again, now staring at him. "We go to these events together, so she doesn't have to tell her parents that she wants to further her studies instead of popping out children, and quite frankly I just want to be left alone."

"But everyone was talking about your engagement."

"She is in France to help with this art exhibit and study the artists. If she is bringing anything back than pictures to hang at the Manor, not a wedding dress."

Granger blushed. Her face slowly went from pink to a darker shade and as she pushed some of her curls back, he noticed the red tips of her ears.

"So, no wedding?"

"No wedding." He confirmed. His hand suddenly on her cheek caressing. Daphne would be overjoyed. She would have been equally horrified of course that everyone seemed to have invited themselves to their wedding.

"You should sleep." He pulled his hand away reluctantly, but hers grabbed it and held it tight before she surprisingly enough obeyed and closed her eyes.