I'm back! This story is in 20 smallish parts, so I'll post 4 at a time because the overall piece is pretty long. As always, I own nothing.


I.

When the battle ended, Draco Malfoy, the once proud, pureblooded Death Eater, went in search of the one person he knew he should avoid. The Aurors would arrive soon to cart him off to Azkaban, but he needed to see her. They had met briefly in the middle of battle in the Room of Requirement, and a sigh of relief was breathed to see that she was alright. After all, not many survived the tortures of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione Granger was different though. She was stronger than any woman he had met before. Despite class differences, he had been enthralled with her during their school days. Teasing and taunting became a form of foreplay to him. He wanted to rile her up, to see her blush, to get under her skin. It was during their sixth year that he finally got close to her. Sitting side by side at the only unoccupied table in the library, he kissed her on a whim. Cheeks reddening, he apologized and ran away. When they next saw one another, again in the library, it was Hermione who kissed him.

A secret relationship was maintained until Hermione left for the Burrow just weeks before the next school term would begin. Draco had gone months without seeing her, without knowing that she was alive. Idly, he wondered if she would visit him in prison now that the threat of war no longer hung over their heads. Her friends would never approve, but Draco cared little for Harry Potter or the Weasleys. His only concern now was Hermione.

He found her in an abandoned classroom attempting to heal a gash on her cheek. Silently, he entered and shut the door, locking it to prevent intruders. "Need a hand?" he asked, his throat sore from smoke and shouted spells. She looked up, eyes red from crying and exhaustion, and nodded her head. He limped as he neared her, and cupped her chin. His wand traced the bleeding cut, closing it as it moved. "Better?" he asked when he was done.

She removed his hand from her chin and held it. "What happens now?" she wondered.

Sighing, he sat on the desk beside her. "Now...we kiss goodbye," he replied. "The Aurors are rounding up Death Eaters, and I'm one of them."

"I'll vouch for you," she insisted, using her free hand to catch a tear that fell. "You never wanted that life. You didn't want to hurt anyone. You were just trying to protect your mother. That has to mean something to them."

"I don't think it will," he said. "Maybe the sentence will be reduced if you testify, but I've accepted the fact that I've committed crimes that I need to pay for."

Hermione laughed mirthlessly as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you really have to start being noble now?" she bemoaned.

His chuckle was far more genuine as he kissed her. "Well, I don't have to start just yet," he murmured. They left the room ten minutes later, parting with a kiss before returning to the Great Hall. She loved him. They were the last words the pair shared before Draco was arrested. Hermione watched wordlessly as his hands were bound behind his back and the Aurors led him away.

II.

A magical barrier separated the pair as they talked for the first time in weeks. Hermione fiddled with the ring she wore on her right index finger. Draco had placed the Malfoy crest there before his arrest, and she had yet to remove it. Worry knit her dark brows together as she studied him. It appeared that meals were not common in Azkaban.

"I intend to discuss this with the Minister," she stated angrily. "They're starving you. Is that the goal? Starve the Death Eaters so they don't have to pay for trials? This is barbaric!"

Draco sat back in his seat, looking anywhere but at her. "Why'd you come today?" he asked. His mood was dour. His father had already been sentenced to life in prison, while his mother had been restricted to house arrest for six months. Their trials had ended days earlier, but he had only just found out their fates that morning.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant," she said, refusing to mince words. "That night, after the battle...um, it happened then. I thought you should know."

Worried eyes settled on her. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice wavering. "Is it...it's really mine?" When she confirmed that the baby was his, Draco placed his head in his hands and began to cry. There was nothing she could do to comfort him. Finally, he looked up. "I'm so sorry."

She placed her hand on the barrier. "For what?" she wondered. "Your trial is next month, and then you'll come home. There's no need for apologies. Unless...I know you've been through a lot. If you want no part of this, I understand."

Their hands met on the partition. "It's not that," he said, sniffling. The dirty sleeve of his prison-issued jumpsuit dried his cheeks. "I...I'm not getting out of here. Horrible things, Hermione, I did horrible things. The torturing and kidnapping and cursing...all pains I inflicted on people who didn't deserve it. I just...I thought I was done with that, and now I've hurt you too."

"You haven't," she assured him. "I meant it that night when I said I love you. My feelings for you haven't changed, Draco."

Frustration was beginning to get the better of him. He stood quickly, his chair nearly falling to the ground, and he began to pace. "I can't be a father," he told her angrily. "Not in here. That baby deserves better. You deserve better."

Hermione watched as he traversed the small room. "What if I want you?" she wondered, her voice even and devoid of any emotion that may betray how hurt she felt. He stopped, turned to face her, and frowned. "I'm not saying that you have to stick around. If being a father isn't what you want, I understand. If that's your reason, I won't force this. But if you're afraid that you're not good enough, then it's going to become my new life mission to prove to you that you are."

He chuckled softly as he reclaimed his seat. "I love you," he murmured. "Promise me something though. If...when they convict me, don't wait for me. If you find someone else, someone you can see spending your life with, don't wait for me. Be happy."

Though she agreed, Hermione knew it was not a promise she intended to keep.

III.

Hermione had only just begun to show when Draco stood trial. The change in appearance was called into question and quickly overruled by the Minister before she was forced to admit to the Wizengamot that she carried Draco Malfoy's child. Instead, she testified that he had joined the Death Eaters under coercion. His mother's life dangled in the balance, and he was a loving son who would do anything to ensure her survival.

Her eyes remained trained on the man she loved as she spoke. He was thinner than he had been the last time they had seen one another. His blond locks, matted with dirt and grease, had grown halfway to shoulder-length. Gray eyes, once on fire with desire, now bore no light. This was not the same boy who went out of his way to tease her in school. This was not the boy who kissed her in the library when no one else was looking. He was not the boy who held her after making love, declaring that he would be hers forever. Now, he was broken, and Hermione wondered if there was a way to put him back together.

When she was dismissed from the stand, the rest of the trial became a blur. She half listened to testimony and wholly watched Draco. She counted the number of witnesses left, wishing the governing board would make their decision already. The sooner he was proven innocent, the sooner they could get on with their lives.

But innocence was not in the cards for Draco Malfoy. The verdict came back guilty, and he was sentenced to five years in Azkaban. Hermione thought she might faint. Had Harry Potter not been by her side, she very likely would have fallen. Across the hall, she heard a guttural scream, and saw that Narcissa Malfoy needed to be supported by those around her. Without thinking, Hermione got to her feet and went to Draco's mother.

Blue eyes widened at her approach before shifting to the small swell of the young witch's abdomen. "Mrs. Malfoy, I-"

"It's true?" Narcissa asked, shooing away those around her. She sat, beckoning for Hermione to do the same. She nodded as she took a seat. Narcissa exhaled as she placed a hand on her forehead. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound rude. You and my son...I had no idea. This entire day has been exhausting."

Hermione understood why Draco had not told his mother. Purebloods were proud, and the Malfoys would never approve of a halfblood grandchild. They had sullied the pure bloodlines, and she was sure her child would not be well received by the Malfoy matriarch.

"Where are you staying?" Narcissa asked, surprising Hermione and herself. Dark brows rose questioningly. Harry had offered her a room at 12 Grimmauld Place after she had broken the news of her relationship with Draco to the Weasley family. They'd intended to go to Australia to locate her parents and reverse the memory charms, but put the trip on hold due to her condition. "The manor is so large and empty. I could use the company."

"But I'm-"

"Pregnant with my grandchild," the witch interrupted. "If you have other living arrangements, I understand. Rumor has it your parents are no longer in the country, and there's a bit of dissent between you and the Weasleys. I don't mean to overstep my bounds, but I wanted to offer."

Hermione looked to where Draco had sat just minutes earlier before being taken away by the Azkaban guards. He would want this, she thought. The last time they had spoken, Draco had worried about his mother's well being. She was alone, with only the house elves for company. Harry knew next to nothing about children, and even less about keeping a tidy house. The arrangement could be beneficial to both witches.

"I'd love to," Hermione finally agreed. "One condition though - please never make me go in the drawing room."

A week later, Hermione moved into Malfoy Manor with Harry's help. Only once had he attempted to talk her into staying with him. "So, this was Malfoy's room?" he asked, opening a box of picture frames.

Hermione nodded as she unpacked her clothing. "It was Narcissa's idea," she told him. "Since he's been gone, she said she'd been spending a lot of time in here. At least now she won't be alone when she does it. Did you know she's not allowed to visit him?"

Harry, an Auror, knew. She had needed special permission from the Minister to attend her son's trial. "It's sad," he said. "She saved my life, and now she's stuck in this house. The only reason she saved me was her son, and she's not even allowed to see him. It's unfair. Have you been by to see him?"

"No, not since the trial," she replied. "Honestly, I don't know what to say to him. He told me to move on, but I can't see myself doing that. As right as it feels being here, I worry how he'll react when he finds out."

Abandoning his task, Harry sat at the foot of the bed and frowned at her. "He doesn't want to be with you?" he wondered.

Hermione shook her head. "It's not that. It's more...he doesn't want me to give up my life waiting for him," she said. "I could have been with Ron. I know how he feels about me. The idea of someone else raising our child though...I'm not sure I can go along with that."

IV.

"I spoke with Kingsley," Hermione said as she entered the visitation room. The partition was no longer between them, and Draco was happy for the chance to hold her close. "He said they'd consider letting you out early for good behavior."

Draco snorted as he pulled back. "It's not like I see anyone," he muttered. "Can't get into trouble if the only company I receive are the guards who slip my meals through a slot in the door. At least they let you come today."

His hand rested on her stomach. Tentatively, lovingly, he touched her. "I'll find out next month what we're having," she told him excitedly. "Your mother has been a godsend. Although, it might be nice to have some input on the nursery. She's convinced we're having a girl, and everything must be pink. It's like a cotton candy machine threw up in the room next to yours."

A familiar smirk hitched up the right corner of his mouth. "Sleeping in my bed, are you?" he asked, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

"The stasis charm makes it smell like you," she murmured, kissing him for the first time in months. "Not that you smell like a stasis charm, just that it..."

"Yeah, I know," he replied. "Merlin, I've missed you. Everything's okay? You're healthy? Still talking to your friends? Not contemplating how many ways you can kill my mother and make it look like an accident?"

Laughing, Hermione sat down. "Actually, Ron and I aren't speaking," she shared. "Other than that, life is good. It would be better if you were home, but I don't know there's much I can do there."

"Slip me a wand," he suggested. "I'll blast my way out. We'll go on the run. You, me, the baby. It'll be an adventure. I'm willing to wager you haven't had nearly enough of those in your life."

What was intended as a joke was not taken that way. "Do this right," she advised. "Be good, play by their rules, and come back to us a free man."

He kissed her then with the promise to do as she asked.