Chapter 3

AN: Thanks all for the reviews, follows, and favorites! You guys motivate me to keep writing! This is my first fanfic, too, so I'm glad it's already got a bit of a following! So, we're back to our favorite characters. By the way, how did you guys like the next generation (ie Scorpius, Rose, Alruen, Albus, etc)? Too snarky, too nice? Too much like their parents? I channeled Fred and George's silliness into Lorcan and Lysander, since I just love twin dynamics. Too much? Too little? By the way, if you're confused in this next chapter about who Draco is talking about, it will all become clear later. It's supposed to be ambiguous. HINT: Do look at the two main characters for this story, and you might just get an idea. Please review!

"Mind if I join you?"

Draco turned to see Alex, who was hugging herself, staring out to the evening sky.

"Of course, Alex. You don't even need to ask."

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, glancing up at him.

"I'm always okay," he snorted, but then grew solemn and turned back to the sky. "I'm more worried about Astoria, though. With Weasley gone, I think she's going to lose her will to live. I was speaking with one of the Healers who was monitoring her at St. Mungo's. I thought Tori was asleep or couldn't hear us, but apparently she wasn't. I know Tori was awake," he continued to explain when Alex gave him a queer look, "because when I explained to the Healer that Weasley had been murdered, there was a huge surge in brain activity and her heart rate increased three-fold. She's not going to want to stay here, I know it. She'd sooner die than take care of her husband and child and live without Weasley's presence. Why does Weasley always get everything?" Draco grumbled. "I need her, Alex. She may not be the love of my life, but she's the mother of my child! At the very minimum, Scorpius needs her!"

"She'll be okay, Draco."

"How can you know that? Maybe you should go to her, being the most bloody fantastic Healer out there. I'd know she's in safe hands if she's with you," he suggested, sounding sarcastic and desperate at the same time.

"I'm sure the St. Mungo's employees will have taken care of her spectacularly. They are certainly more than capable. I'll pop in tomorrow morning, although. How's that?"

He sighed and nodded, losing his angry energy.

"She loves Ron, doesn't she?" murmured Alex. He nodded. "After all this time, I thought as much, but I could never be sure. And you still love her, don't you?"

"I thought you might have already figured that out, " he sighed. "And yes, I'm still in love with her. It's never faded, even after all these years. It's unwavering and unchanging, I never knew something could be so... steadfast." He paused. "You know, that's the reason why Astoria and I married. We both fancied people who were already taken with others. I didn't want to marry, if it wasn't for love, as you know, but you know my mother. Tori and I connected. The irony, we married because we both felt rejected by others and all alone," he laughed darkly. "Astoria has, at the very minimum, made this marriage tolerable. She wasn't a complete airhead, and I could have done a lot worse."

"I don't mean to disrespect Ron, but you know..." Alex trailed off, not wanting to voice her thoughts. Draco turned to her sharply, and understanding her implied suggestion, and stared at her harshly.

"It won't happen, Alex," he stated firmly, cutting her off before she could respond. "You know it won't. I know you're an optimist, but she signed her fate away at her wedding. No, even before that. She won't look at anyone else, ever again. Did you see her? How delirious she was because of her love for him? That's not going to go away. That love, that dedication and devotion! The pain! It won't fade, there's no chance. I know, because my love doesn't fade. Hers won't even if you give her a thousand years! She won't ever look at me," Draco sat down heavily, hanging his head dejectedly.

"I just wish shewould look at me with that type of unwavering, steadfast love," he whispered brokenly, a few tears escaping his eyes. Alex sat down next to him and embraced him.

"Shh. Let it out. Astoria will be fine, Draco. She'll be okay. You and Scorp will be okay. We're all here for you, you know," Alex murmured, patting his back. "Everything will work out, you'll see."

Draco sobbed silently into her shirt. "Nobody loves me," he blubbered.

"Draco! Look at me!" Alex jerked his chin up to meet her eyes. "You know that's not true. Scorpius, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, Blaise and I all love you. Your mother loves you. Astoria loves you, in her own way. She does, too! You know why, when we came back to England, she got married right away? Because she was starting to fall for you, and she was scared!"

"Don't give me false hope, Alex! That was in the past and it's just because we spent some time together. That's certainly not the case now," he snapped.

"I'm not. I'm stating a fact."

Draco stood up abruptly, wiping his tears away. "I still have a wife, you know. She's not dead. She won't die. She isalive," he said stiffly as if he was trying to convince himself.

"Draco, I know. Don't do this to yourself, though. Don't give up!"

"Please, Alex. How many more years will she continue to look at me, and not really see me? How many years can I continue to take it? You've got it easy, you've got Blaise. I wonder why I don't give up. And then I remember. I couldn't leave you or Blaise. You two keep me sane."

His voice softened as he looked down at Alex, who was still sitting. "Thanks, Alex. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're right. She'll be fine. Astoria's still my wife and is still alive," he bent down and kissed the top of her head, and then walked back into the house.

"But perhaps, not for long," Alex whispered sadly, and then followed him.

Blaise was staring out the window at Alex and Draco, who was currently sobbing his life out. He sighed, Draco was not having an easy time. Neither was Hermione, who had just lost her love. After Voldemort's death, the world was supposed to heal, and no one should have to suffer. But that wasn't life, and new wounds have been made. Hearing soft footprints come up alongside him, Blaise turned to see a teary-eyed Hermione.

"Hi," she greeted him softly, looking out the window. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"How are you holding up?" he asked her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Holding," she murmured, putting more weight onto him as she leaned into him. She nodded in the direction of Alex and Draco. "You ever...worry that Draco still loves her?"

Blaise scrunched his eyebrows together. "Of course he loves her. Who doesn't?" he chuckled. "You mean, more than a friend? He's my best mate, he'd never do that to me. I have plenty of faith in Alex, too. You know both of them and how close they are, I don't know why you'd suggest or even think something like that."

Hermione bit her lip. "Sorry, it's just, hard now, you know? Seeing them is like seeing me and... and Ron. Or Harry. Or anyone who is hurting. Although, if it were anyone besides Ron or Harry, Ron would probably blow his top off in jealousy."

Blaise shook his head sadly, understanding her jealousy of Draco and Alex's steadfast friendship. Hermione had just lost herbest friend, and even the relationships between the Golden Trio could barely compare to Alex and Draco's. "See, I know both of them so well that I'd never have to worry about it. I trust them, don't you? Plus, Draco loves someone else in that romantic sense, and is truly devoted to Astoria. There's nothing to worry about; Alex has just been there for both him and me in the worst of our times. If you can find someone to support you when you're at your lowest, you should never give them up. When they see your scars and, instead of flinching away or trying to cover it up, they try to heal them and make them fade away, you know you've found yourself someone special."

Hermione gave the tiniest of smiles. "You've always been the easiest Slytherin to get along with, Blaise, and it's not hard to see why."

Blaise patted her back, dropping his arm from her shoulders. "Same goes for you, Princess of the Gryffindorks," he smiled.

"Do you ever think back to when it was just us four?" asked Hermione, absentmindedly drawing patterns on her left arm.

"All the time," Blaise replied coolly, unsure where she was going with this, glancing at the scarred word engraved on her arm. Didn't she realize that she was drawing attention to it when she traced it like that?

"I wish I could just travel back and time and live in those moments until I die. Those were the best years of my life, you know." Blaise raised an eyebrow at her statement.

"I know they were some of the best for me and especially Draco, but you, Hermione? What about your marriage? What about your children?"

"I liked it because it was an escape. It was a separate paradise where nothing could weigh me down or push me up. Exactly like Malfoy said, I was free to be whoever and whatever I chose, not prejudged on some reputation that I may or may not have rightfully earned. It was refreshing, it was new and interesting. My life here in England was already laid out for me when I became friends with Harry and Ron. I would help destroy Voldemort, fall in love with Ron, become a successful witch, marry Ron and bear his children, and die surrounded by ginger haired grandchildren," she listed, with a tad bit of a bitter tone. Blaise, speechless, did not comment on her seeming unhappiness. "Except some psychopath decided that it wasn't classic enough for the life of Hermione Granger. No, she became a widow only fourteen years into her fairytale marriage."

"You didn't have to marry Ron and bear his children or any of the other things you listed. There's nothing in that list that you didn't sign up for," Blaise said almost accusingly, wondering if she was just losing her mind in her grief. "Don't you love Ron, Rosie and Hugo? Would you really change any of that?"

She looked at him. "I don't know. I love my family, I do! I just, oh I don't know anything anymore. I might. If I had a time turner, I really might," she rambled on and on, Blaise growing more and more concerned by the minute.

"Hermione," he started, and then dragged her over to a chair. "Sit down." She sat, putting her face in her hands. He knelt down in front of her and forced her to look at him.

"You know you love your family. The years we had together were nice, but that's all in the past. You need to focus on now. I know it hurts Hermione, everyone's hurting right now."

"What's hurting you?" she asked bitterly.

"The fact that two of my best friends are hurting. That hurts me."

"Well I'm sorry that I'm such a burden on you. I'll just go and kill myself and join Ron."

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER WEASLEY!" Alex roared, storming into the room, Draco paused in the hallway, and turned back to see what the fuss was about. "JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE FEELING MISERABLE DOES NOT GIVE YOU A FREE PASS TO SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!"

"Alex, honey, calm down. I can deal with this, she didn't mean it!" Blaise got up and put his hands on his wife's shoulders, gently pushing her out into the hallway, nodding for Draco to calm her down. Draco's lips pressed into a firm line and nodded back.

"Just make sure she never says anything like that again," she snapped, and turned on her heel, walking briskly away, Draco following hot on her heels.
"Hermione, you're not a burden and you know you don't mean that," Blaise snapped, turning to face her. "You can't leave Rose and Hugo behind, can you? Could you ever look into their faces and say you'll leave them orphaned? What type of a person would you become if you did that?" Blaise was starting to feel like a father reprimanding a whiny child. He shuddered at the thought, and tried to focus at the task at hand.

"Stop guilting me, Blaise! I'm miserable without Ron, and I don't know how I'll live without him!" she sobbed. Blaise was exasperated, barely holding in all of the expletives he wanted to shout at her. He knew she was hurting, but she didn't have to lash out at others.

"Then don't say that ever again, hasn't Alex ever told you how much it hurts her? You know it's a sensitive topic for her! And you will be okay, Hermione! I know it's not going to be easy, and it may take a while, but you will be okay, Hermione. We're here for you. We all are," Blaise finished, trying to end gently.

"Everyone but Ron," she just sobbed. He just sighed. He couldn't do anything more about this, even if he wanted to. All was left to do was to wait and let her calm down.

Hannah walked into the room and wrapped her arms around Hermione. "I'll take it from here, Blaise. Go find Alex, and dinner will be served in a little bit. Come on, Hermione, let's get you something to eat, shall we? I know you're exhausted and you must be starving," Hannah pulled Hermione up to her feet and pushed her out of the room. Blaise watched them go, and then sat down heavily on the chair Hermione had vacated, putting his face in his hands. Harry entered the room.

"Uh, hey Zabini. Some of us were trying to play some make-shift Quidditch, to get our minds off things, you know?" Harry started uneasily. Blaise looked up, and noticed the swimming grief held in his strikingly green eyes. Blaise understood, Harry desperately needed to let off some steam, since he was barely holding it together for Hermione and Ginny. "Care to join us?"

"I wouldn't mind," Blaise agreed, standing up. "Although I'm not going to let you off easily, Potter."

Harry smiled grimly. "Wouldn't dream of it, so long as you're not fouling every two seconds." Blaise grinned.

"Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin, Potter."

"Do you think Malfoy would like to join us? Until dinner, of course." Harry added hesitantly, clearly uneasy at the thought of addressing the other Slytherin.

"Nah," Blaise replied, as the two men strolled out of the room. "I have a feeling he wouldn't want to, it wouldn't be enough of a distraction for him."
"Is his wife okay? Astoria, right?"

"Not from the looks of it."

"If you don't mind me asking, but why isn't he at the hospital with her?"

Blaise sighed. "Their relationship... it's really rather complicated. Under normal circumstances, he would be with her, but he owed Hermione a lot of answers. See, he's been in contact with Pansy and Flint for the last few years, because she was absolutely desperate and came to him for help. It's not what you think, Potter," Blaise drawled when Harry opened his mouth. "Pansy and Marc really love each other. Pansy's obsession in Hogwarts was actually because of a bet that she lost. She's always cared about Draco, but as a friend, nothing more."

Harry was stunned, to say the least, but didn't comment. There was another long pause in the conversation as he handed Blaise a broom, and walked out into the backyard.

Harry turned to Blaise again. "Then why doesn't he just go back the hospital now? I can't really imagine him enjoying my close proximity to him, much less being in my house."

Blaise sighed. "Like I said, it's complicated. Something probably happened at the hospital, anyways. I don't know all the details. He needs a shoulder to lean on, and Alex, Hermione and I are his best friends. If we're here, he's here. We were kind of like the Golden Trio in California; home is where our friends are."

Harry pondered this. "I guess I can see that. I mean, theoretically, if I married someone who wasn't Ginny, I would want to spend my time with Ron and Hermione, especially if my wife was in a coma and couldn't respond to anything. Logically, it would make more sense for me to be where I feel most comfortable, which would be with them." Harry saddened a bit at his own mention of Ron.

"Exactly, applying logic to justify your own self-preservation. See, Potter, you get it. Very good. We'll make a good Slytherin out of you yet," Blaise joked, nudging him with his shoulder.

Harry shrugged. He could have been a Slytherin, although he was incredibly grateful that he wasn't.

After dinner and the Quidditch game, that, obviously, Harry's team had won, Hannah demanded that Draco and Hermione send their patronuses to McGonagall and inform their children before it was too late. Hermione barely managed to conjure one, but thought hard and eventually did it. Hermione steeled herself, following after Draco into the fireplace. She threw down her floo powder and disappeared in a swell of green flames.

Stepping out of the fireplace, Hermione glanced around at the Headmistress's office, being in there for the first time since her Hogwarts years. Since Dumbledore had died, the office had been cleaned of all of the various knick-knacks that used to lie around. Neat, orderly, and crisp, it perfectly represented the new Headmaster's clean and organized style, from the color-coded quills to her spotless desk. Malfoy was staring at the portrait with the former Headmaster Severus Snape, with his back to the fireplace. As Hermione stepped further into the room, she could hear Snape's dry voice.
"I trust all has been well, Draco?"

"More or less, Severus. Did you hear about Astoria, yet?"

"You mean the fact that you married her? And that you didn't really love her? Or that she gave birth to Scorpius? No, Draco, I clearly am not up to date to the happenings in your life," Snape drawled sarcastically. "I'm rather disappointed in you, boy. I would have hoped you would have chosen better."
Draco stiffened, and chose to ignore that last comment. "She was hit with some wordless curse when we were seeing Scorp off at King's Cross. Do you remember Marcus Flint?"

Snape nodded. "Nasty little brute he was. Particularly disturbing teeth. He really should have had orthodontics."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were aware of muggle dental practices."

"I wouldn't have thought you would be either, Draco." Snape rolled his eyes. "Clearly you've spent time with someone who has, though."

Hermione watched confusedly as Draco pinkened. Am I really that bad company? she wondered.

"You have!" Snape crowed triumphantly. "You wouldn't be so easy to read if you hadn't. Has the great Malfoy mask finally fallen?"

Draco scowled. "Ahh, that's better Draco. Much more familiar."

"If you weren't a painting..." Draco muttered.

"But I digress. What about Flint?"

"He actually matured, believe it or not, and he did marry Parkinson," Draco paused as Snape raised an eyebrow.
"That pug-faced girl?"

"They're actually quite fond of each other. But anyways, he's gone mental after the time turner accident in the Ministry of Magic. Parkinson thought that it would be okay to see Fiona, their daughter, off to Hogwarts with Flint, but he went bloody psychotic and wound up hitting Tori with that spell. She's in a coma, and they have no idea how to fix it."

"Oh, so it's 'Tori' now, is it?" Snape sneered.

"Severus!" Draco warned.

"It's not my fault you fell in love with someone of less than the purest blood. And didn't choose to ignore one's mother and made a worse mistake than I ever did."

Draco glared at the portrait, who merely glared back. Well, Hermione thought, this is a rather interesting development.

"Mrs. Weasley, my dear, how are you?" asked Dumbledore kindly, from Hermione's right. She cringed at the last name, but Draco snapped his head back to look at her. She tried to keep her face expressionless, as his gray eyes searched to see how much she had heard.

"Please, call me Hermione. I've been better," she replied, breaking her staring contest with Draco. "I've," she took a deep breath. "I've brought some bad news for Rose. Ron was murdered by Marcus Flint shortly after the Hogwarts Express left King's Cross Station."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Mrs. Weasley," Snape said with the most sympathy she had

ever heard from him. "I do hope that you'll find some comfort in knowing that Fred will be taking care of him. I know what it's like to lose a loved one, and it never stops hurting."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I don't worry about him, he'll be waiting for me and there are plenty of people to keep him company until I join him. It's just going to be tough in the healing."

"You'll be all right, my dear," Dumbledore soothed her.

Moments later, McGonagall entered the room, with the three children behind her.

"Dad!" cried Scorp, dropping Ara's hand and rushing over to hug his father. Draco noticed the hand holding, but didn't comment as he knelt down and picked him up, hugging him. Rose ran over to her mother, who did the same.

"Hey bud. Did you guys finish the sorting?" Draco asked.

"Yeah! Ara and I are in Slytherin!" Scorpius exclaimed excitedly. "Rose is a Gryffindor, though." At this, Hermione high fived her daughter.

"What house is Albus in?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Hufflepuff. He told me that he had asked the hat where he was needed most, so he was sorted there," Rose answered.

Draco looked curiously over at the red-headed girl. "Are you guys... friends?" he asked carefully.

Ara snorted, drawing attention over to her. "You should have seen them on the Hogwarts Express. One minute, they're at each other's throats with intelligent insults," Hermione and Draco looked at each other amusedly, "and the next they're ganging up on James and Albus," Ara then covered her mouth, eyes wide, realizing exactly what she had just said.

"Rose!" admonished Hermione.

"Scorpius," warned Draco.

"They're your cousins!" Hermione continued. "Really, I taught you better than that."

"Mum, we didn't really insult them. We were just commenting on their lack of table manners," Rose explained.

"Didn't I tell you to play nice, Scorp?" sighed Draco.

Hermione put her hand on Draco's shoulder. "They were just fooling around. And seriously, James and Albus really do need to have someone harping on their manners. Trust me," she smiled, with an amused twinkle in her eye.

He sighed. "But be warned, Scorp. Step one toe out of line, and I'll make sure Ara tells me about it."

Scorpius waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, Dad. I got it. I'll be nice, Ara will keep me in line anyways."

Ara, ever the perceptive one, approached Hermione warily. "Aunt Hermione... is Uncle Ron okay?" Hermione stiffened, and Ara's eyes widened. "Where's Aunt Tori, Uncle Draco?" Draco stiffened as well. Putting Scorpius down, Draco kneeled so he was eye level with his son.

"Son, your mother is in a coma. It's kind of like a deep sleep, where she can't move her body, and it's hard to tell whether she's conscious or not. She was hit with an unknown curse right after you got on the Hogwarts Express. We aren't sure what's wrong with her."

Scorpius frowned. "Do they know if she'll be okay?"

"There's no way to tell. They healers are doing the best they can, at the moment. I'll let you know if there's any changes. She could be this way for a very long time," Draco stated unhappily. "I'm sorry, I wish I could have prevented this.

"It's okay, dad. I'm at Hogwarts, so it won't be too different for me. But, dad, are you going to be okay?"

"She's still healthy, as far as we can tell. I'll be perfectly fine, son."

Scorpius nodded, frowning still. "Have you talked to Aunt Alex?"

Draco smiled grimly. "Yes, Scorp. She knocked some sense into me and she'll keep me sane."

"Good." Scorpius said, but then directed his glance towards Hermione, who was desperately holding back tears.

"Rosie... your father was murdered in the same incident that Scorpius's son was hit with a spell. I'm so sorry, dear... I'm so sorry," Hermione sobbed, holding Rose tightly to her chest. Rose sobbed with her, tightly clinging on to her mother's arms.

McGonagall sat down heavily in her chair, and the others shifted awkwardly during the intense moment. After a few minutes, the two Weasley women wiped their watery eyes and stood up.

"Congratulations on being in Slytherin, Ara and Scorpius. And congratulations on being in Gryffindor, my dear," Hermione said shakily, kissing Rose on the head. "We should be getting back now, I think Harry will start to worry if we're gone too long."

"Love you mum," Rose hugged her mother fiercely.

"Love you dad," Scorpius paralleled Rose's affections.

"Love you, too," both parents replied simultaneously.

McGonagall stood up, and brought the three eleven-year olds back to the Great Hall after mouthing her condolences.

"After you," Draco motioned to the fireplace, stepping in after Hermione had disappeared.

Once he was gone, Dumbledore spoke up.

"Was it just me, or did Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley have an unparalleled sexual tension that you could just cut through with a knife?" he asked.
Snape rolled his eyes. "Please. You did not see them in potions. I'm surprised they didn't explode the whole school with their chemistry."

Dumbledore chuckled, staring at the ashes in the fireplace.