A/N: I didn't like the way the previous Chapter 73 came out; it felt more like I was forcing my way to an ending. I didn't like it, so I reworked this chapter to feel a bit more consistent. Major changes have been made. Chapter takes place from September 26th - Mid-October 2009. Please forgive any errors.

TW: Terminal Illness

TW: Bulimia Symptoms (Lingering)

TW: Discussion of Suicidal Ideation

CW: POW Issues

CW: Alcohol As A Coping Mechanism

Draco fisted his hand in Hermione's hair and squeezed his eyes shut.

They'd been engaged one week and the first thing Draco did when he woke up each day was look at Hermione's left hand to ensure the ring was still there. To make sure he hadn't dreamt the whole thing.

Hermione took Draco to the hilt and he came at the back of her throat with a soft sigh. He would never tire of that. Hermione popped off and Draco leaned forward to rest his forehead on the top of her head. Her knees had to ache from spending so long on the floor, but Draco did not want to move.

"I've been thinking."

Draco sighed heavily.

"You are the only person who could go down on a man and plot worldwide takeover at the same time."

Hermione blushed and admitted, "I was not thinking about work."

"Good." Draco's mouth was dry. "That's good."

"We're getting married on Christmas Eve."

"Yes." Draco smiled sleepily and repeated, "Yes, we are, Golden Girl."

"That is only three months from now."

"I'd marry you tomorrow if I thought it was best."

"Well …" Hermione shrugged. "I thought, perhaps, we could start trying for a child."

"No."

"Could you at least think about it?"

Draco shifted so he could stand up and walk toward his closet. He hummed,

"This is me thinking about it. Still a no."

"But—"

"I am not having a child before I am married, Hermione. I don't want to do that, I want our family to be …" He shrugged. "I just don't want to do that."

"I could be pregnant tomorrow and only three months along by Christmas!"

"And the rest of the Wizarding world can do maths, Hermione!" Draco shouted back. "They will believe you only married me because we are having a child, not that we are having a child because we want to be a family. This marriage has to come first. As much as I want to—"

Hermione stood up and wiped the corners of her mouth.

"You would let the rest of the world make this decision for us?"

Draco pulled on a pair of pants and nodded.

"Yes."

"I don't believe that. I am thirty, Draco, if we want two kids then—"

"I know maths, Hermione! I know! What you do not seem to understand is that having children is secondary to me when it comes to how the world looks at you, and how the world looks at us. I want them to see this relationship for what it is. I do not want anyone to claim that—"

"I don't care what they say!"

"You think I don't want this?" asked Draco. "Do you truly believe I wouldn't love for you to have our child as soon as possible?"

"We don't even know if I can!" Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears and huffed. "What is the purpose of stopping my potion if we aren't going to try? I want to do this with you, and I want it more than I ever have."

Draco stared up at the ceiling.

"I just don't trust the world to see our love for what it is."

"The world is not my family, Draco. You are my family, and I want to begin trying now. In six months with Ronald it didn't take, so I don't believe we will have an issue. Even if we do, I don't care. I respect that you care for my political reputation, but—"

"It surprises me that you don't."

"Because I can change the world just by doing this! By saying blood purity means nothing and I love my gorgeous, stubborn fiancé! I am establishing a school so by the time our child is five they will have access to the best magical and non-magical education the world has to offer. If anyone insinuates I only married you because I got pregnant, I will stuff my wand so far up their arse they will cast a spell every time they sneeze."

Draco laughed.

"You really want to do this?"

"I am excited about it! I never wanted to do it with Ronald, or even in a hypothetical future. I did not want it until you came into my life and made me realize why I do want to be a mother. No one else had helped me see it before, and now I want it."

"Marrying me has done enough damage to your reputation, Hermione. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"Delaying this hurts me more than anything anyone could ever say about us."

"We can start tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Yeah." Draco hugged Hermione around the shoulders and said, "You'll be a great mother, I promise."

"Promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Promise that you won't be bitter if it turns out I can't."

"As long as I get to see you in lingerie every night for the rest of my life, Granger, I won't be bitter about much of anything."

Hermione kissed his cheek and said, "You're insatiable."

"Oh, like you are one to talk!"

"Don't pretend you aren't thinking about how massive my tits will be."

"You know me too well."

.oOo.

Draco sat down in Penelope's office the following Thursday and had nothing to say. Rather, Draco had so much to say but could not figure out where to start. Penelope was infuriatingly quiet, as usual. He sighed.

"I …" Draco frowned. "I finally began to realize how important this has been to me."

"How important what has been?" asked Penelope.

"This. You know, therapy. You changed the way I see myself, and this past week, I truly realized how deeply this mattered. How much it still matters."

"Would you like to elaborate?"

"Hermione and I had a bit of an argument. Our most productive argument we have ever had. Neither of us yelled or threw anything."

"That's positive."

"The day after I proposed, she stopped taking her anti-fertility potion. I was hesitant, but we agreed to start trying for a child."

"That is wonderful!" Penelope grinned. "From the moment you first sat down in that chair, Draco, you have remained remarkably consistent in what you want out of life. You've talked about nothing more than how desperately you want to be a father, so why would you hesitate?"

"Because I do not want anyone to believe Hermione is marrying me because of a child. I know it is selfish, but I love her. I love Hermione Granger more than I ever knew I could love someone. I loved her so much that I found more within myself to love her with. Does that make sense?"

"In your own way, yes, it does."

"And I want Hermione more than I want a child. I keep making that clear to people because my life has been about being a father. But I want nothing more than to be her husband. Hermione Granger is the most fantastic, fascinating, fucking amazing person I will ever meet. I never knew I could love someone as deeply as I love her. She understood what bisexuality truly meant even before I did. She changed the way she uses her power just to become safe for me. For our relationship to work."

"Exactly." Penelope smiled. "Which is why you are getting married."

"I wish you could come."

"No." She shook her head. "Not appropriate."

"I know, I know, but … None of this would have happened without you."

"Because I do my job."

"It's a very difficult job."

Penelope shrugged and said, "I will see your pictures in the paper. The most rewarding thing, for me, is you sitting down in that chair and saying you had a good week. While you may not remember what you were like when we began doing this, I do. I get my satisfaction from being the bridge from one part of your life to another."

"I am beyond grateful for it."

.oOo.

It was the middle of October when Dean Thomas stopped by Malfoy Manor. He wore a Gryffindor beanie pulled over his ears and a bright yellow scarf to match. Fennel brought Dean up to Draco's study and Dean looked a bit less … Dean. There was a deep crease between his eyebrows and he'd stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his coat.

"Are you alright?"

"I need a favour," said Dean. "I, um, I'd like to see it."

"See what?"

"The cellar."

Oh.

Oh.

Draco looked down at his desk and asked, "Why?"

"Because it's time."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded and insisted, "I'm certain. It has been nearly twelve years, Draco, I can't keep running from it. I want to see it."

"Okay." Draco shrugged and pulled a bottle of Firewhisky out of a drawer. "We're going to need this later."

"Is Hermione in?"

"No."

"Good. That's good, I didn't want anyone else asking questions."

Draco led Dean downstairs without a word. There wasn't much to be done with the cellar; Gwendolyn had sort of arranged the entertainment room around it. Across from Draco's father's study, Draco moved a table to reveal a small hatch then pulled it up to expose what was, at one point, a cellar. And, at another point, nothing more than a hole for hostages.

His parents had hostages.

Well, Aunty Bella and the Dark Lord had hostages while Draco's parents didn't put up much of a fight. Dean walked down the stairs and Draco followed, making sure not to close the door behind them. It sent chills throughout Draco's body, looking around the tiny room. Dean stood in the centre and pointed to each of the room's edges in turn.

"Shit corner. Piss corner. Sleep corner. Food corner."

Draco frowned.

"You had a corner for food?"

"Of course. When you are given such little food and nothing to eat it with, you have to maintain the illusion of civility. You don't eat where you shit, obviously, and you don't eat where you sleep. I felt like I had to give myself boundaries, otherwise I would go mad. Never much thought that at eighteen I'd be a bloody prisoner of war. Suppose I had it better than Harry and Hermione, at least."

"Interesting to hear you say that."

Dean grimaced.

"Ron had family. He always had a haven, a support system. They might've been pissed when he ditched Harry and Hermione, but at least they took him in. I had nobody except a Goblin, and Griphook spent most of his bloody time elsewhere. He never spent too much time here in the cellar because he was 'useful.' Ted Tonks was nice enough, but then he died right in front of me."

Dean ran the tips of his fingers along the edge of a beam.

"I had nobody," he repeated. "I hit my head on this more times than I can remember." He chuckled darkly and added, "Perhaps that's why."

"I am sorry my parents did this to you. Truly, this is … That is one of the reasons we were estranged for so long. I have seen the darkest, most evil people, and I knew you were not one of them. What they did to you was wrong."

"Yes," Dean agreed, "it was. But I am grateful they did it because it was safer than anywhere else for me. Not that I understood it at the time."

"Hogwarts was a war zone. Anyone who stood up to the Carrows was tortured, played with, made to feel disposable. I was content to not be disposable to them. Your lot stuffed themselves in the Room of Requirement; a brilliant move. Probably where you would've spent much of your time if you'd been able to stay there."

"I was on the run for so long." Dean shook his head and leaned against the far wall. "When I ended up here, I stopped running. It felt like the end."

Draco had always suspected Dean had hidden bits of this from him. While it wasn't a shock, those words cut deeply.

"I could barely stand, was in here for more than a month. Look around, this place is little more than a box for someone like me. I'd been captured in a hoodie with a t-shirt underneath. After a week, my plan was to hang myself from that beam, but then …"

Draco guessed, "Luna."

"When Luna showed up, everything changed. I considered it, still, because I couldn't deal with being in here. Then reality set in; Luna would wake up one morning to find my body hanging here in the middle of this bloody cellar. God only knows how long your parents would have left her alone with my corpse."

Draco winced.

"I would never do that to her, and that is the only reason I am alive right now." Dean shrugged and repeated, "Luna is the only reason. She's mad, but in here we both were. I love her. She made survival believable. When I think back, standing here, I look at everything I stood to lose. Blaise is the best thing to ever happen to me and I wouldn't have been here to marry him if I died here."

"When you were watching me go what I went through two years ago …"

"I knew you would get through it because I did. Bastien understood what I already knew; that you needed someone to be there for you. To give you a reason to keep going, to give you a reason to not. No one tells you those thoughts will enter your head anytime, and if they take hold while no one is around to say, 'This feeling is fake, the hope is real,' then you'll do it. Just like with the eating disorder, you cannot pull yourself out of it. I told Blaise what you would need from him, and he did it perfectly. He was there, honest, open, vulnerable in a way I'd never seen him."

"The two of you gave me a home when I needed it most."

Dean revealed, "Blaise asked me to father a child for us."

Draco was so stunned he took a step backward.

"Sorry, what?"

"He wanted our family to look more like everyone else's. You and Hermione, Theo and Tracey, couples who have or want children. He never had much of a family so he doesn't understand what it is meant to look like. He looks at all of you then looks at my family and thinks we must have a baby to fit in. His mum fucked him up so terribly; I asked why he wouldn't want to father a child and he said the world deserves more of me." Dean laughed. "I fall in love with him in the strangest ways."

"He never mentioned it to me."

Dean admitted, "It does not matter how many times I tell Blaise that he is enough for me, he always seems to want to do something more. I needed to see this room to remember why I don't need more. What Luna did for me here is what Blaise continues to do for me every day. The future is okay because he is in it. I start the day with him, I end the day with him, and my heart never leaves him." Dean smiled and said, "There it is. Those are the words I needed."

"Are you going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Have a child."

"Oh!" Dean laughed. "God, no. I am about to get another dozen kids in January when Hermione's pilot program begins. My family is Blaise's family; you, Bastien, Theo, the twins, plus Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Ron … I don't need to add to that. If I did, then I would only be confirming Blaise's fear that he isn't enough."

Draco admitted, "I will never understand how he managed to get you to fall in love with him."

"Before Blaise, my life was in the shit corner. He was able to show me to the stairs."

Dean left soon after that, and Draco was more than happy to cover the cellar with the table once again. Some memories were best left buried, no matter how much Dean promised to forgive. No matter how much Dean insisted it wasn't Draco's fault, part of him would always feel it was.

Draco sat in his office and drank a glass of Firewhisky.

Shit corner.

Piss corner.

Sleep corner.

Food corner.

There had been so many years where Draco's life only had three corners. It brought back too many memories all at once; thoughts Draco had worked to push back. While Dean had dealt with his trauma in a meaningful way, Draco's issues had only moved around inside him. Been pushed to the back of his mind, ignored, or vomited back up. All that shit lingered, plus the sleeping around and the violence. Talking about it didn't help, at least not the way Penelope promised it eventually would. Writing it out hadn't helped. He couldn't chuck it back into the toilet anymore.

The worst were the memories of fingers wrapped around his throat, clenching until Draco blacked out. Merlin only knew what was done to him in those moments. He would go to Knockturn Alley and all but beg to be hit or abused, trying to make the outside match the pain he felt inside. Hearing Dean talk about his time as a POW made Draco feel even shittier for not having worked for the right things. Having not made sure to be around the right people.

Draco wanted to forget any of it ever happened.

He drank straight from the bottle.

.oOo.

Draco's throat burned.

All through the night, he woke up every hour to get a glass of water. The acid crawled from his chest and shot up into his throat, causing him to retch loud enough to wake Hermione more than once. She looked concerned, but he insisted he was fine.

He was not fine.

He woke up at six and left a note for Hermione saying he was off to St. Mungo's. The Healer gave him a potion and told him to stop drinking alcohol. Specifically, "Stop drinking anything highly acidic." Draco grimaced. The past twenty-four hours had been so awful, that was merely the frosting on the cake. He trudged slowly through the hallway and caught a glimpse of a familiar face in one of the rooms. He frowned and poked his head through the door.

Astoria jumped the moment she saw him.

"Merlin, Draco! You scared me."

He smiled.

"Sorry."

Draco walked inside and shut the door behind him.

"How are you?"

"Bored." Astoria smiled wistfully and asked, "How are you?"

"Had a bit of a mental moment yesterday. Here today because the side effects of my illness are not as far gone as I believed they were."

"Well, now I know that feeling."

Draco chuckled darkly and replied, "I suppose you are right. However, Hermione and I are …"

"Engaged." Astoria smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I read the wonderful things you said about her in Wizards Quarterly."

Draco insisted, "I meant every word."

"Oh, I know. You don't lie about people, especially family." She laughed and said, "I am sure your friends share Hermione's opinion of me, but you never lied to them."

"Of course not."

"Knowing you, Draco, you probably defended me more than you should have."

He blushed.

"I knew it. I am sorry for the things I said to you."

"Thank you," replied Draco, "but the pain behind your words was true and it was deep. I think that is what my friends will never understand. I hurt you by keeping my illness hidden, by not trusting you to help. I wanted you to see me as a man that does not exist. You knew something was wrong and kept rearranging the pieces of me until they fit."

"Part of me is glad we fell apart. Clearly you are better for it. Granger is better for you, more than I ever could have been."

"In this life, yes. What are you here for?"

Astoria shook her head and answered, "Nothing. Just a routine thing."

"Routine for what?"

"I don't want to talk about—"

"Tori."

She winced. He only ever used her nickname in their happiest moments. It felt odd to say it at a time like this. Even though he was afraid he already knew the answer, Draco asked again,

"Routine for what?"

"Softblood."

It was like the world began to spin twice as fast but left Draco behind. He was suddenly dizzy, rather ill.

"But Daphne—"

"She is fine." Astoria offered him a weak smile and confirmed, "It is only me."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, not sure how to process the news.

"When did …"

"May of last year. They gave me four to five years, maybe less."

"Maybe less?!"

"Most people don't see twenty-five, but I might touch thirty. There's that, I suppose."

"What do you do now?"

"Act for as long as I can." Astoria beamed as she revealed, "Next January I begin a run of a show in America, travelling production of Guinevere they've turned into a musical."

"Am I looking at Lady Gwen?"

"In the flesh!"

"Congratulations!" Draco tried to smile but Astoria saw through it. "I know that has always been a dream for you."

"Will you write me when I am away?"

"Of course," promised Draco. "You will always have a place in my heart, Tori, because you were the only person who tried to help me before I asked for it." Draco kissed her gently on the cheek. "Regardless of what anyone believes, that counts for something."

.oOo.

"I ran into Astoria at the hospital."

Draco had come back from St. Mungo's and sat on the sofa in their bedroom. He stared at the floor for several minutes before speaking. Hermione frowned.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I am fine, but she … isn't."

"Okay."

"Are you familiar with Softblood?"

Hermione nodded and recited,

"It is a genetic mutation often occurring once every seven generations. It is a magical form of aplastic anemia in which a person's magic prevents them from creating new blood cells. Modern medicinal treatments are rare, the most effective being a modified Skele-gro potion which increases stem cell production within bone marrow. Initial diagnosis occurs at approximately age ten, and since there is no cure the average lifespan of a person afflicted with Softblood is twenty-five."

"I have a question for you."

"Ask."

"Is there a single textbook you haven't memorized?"

Hermione laughed.

"I thought it was fascinating. The modified Skele-gro was developed in Japan, and I left the Ministry for four months to help facilitate the research a few years ago. Then I came back, assaulted a foreign dignitary, and you know the rest."

"Astoria has it."

"Has what?"

"Softblood."

"Oh." Hermione sat next to Draco on the sofa and snuggled into his side. "How are you feeling about that?"

Draco shrugged and said nothing. Hermione took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers.

"You know how much I hate when you hide things from me."

"I just …" Draco shook his head. "I never loved her, but I wanted to. Astoria is a fun person, great to be around. I suppose the trouble of being the centre of my family was that when she tried to fix me, she did not understand that going to my friends for help required them to accept both the reality and the responsibility."

"It took you ages to accept reality and responsibility."

"I suppose that is valid."

"Will you tell me how you feel?"

"I don't know." Draco admitted, "I don't know what I am feeling, but I don't want dinner. I also want to eat dinner, then eat some more, then eat even more and vomit it back to avoid feeling whatever this is."

"Would you like to know what I think?"

"Of course I want to know. You can see far more clearly than I can right now."

"I think you're grieving."

"Grieving what?"

"I think part of you hoped Astoria would have a place in your family again. Perhaps not the way either of you imagined, but can you tell me, when you looked at yourself thirty years on, was Astoria in your life?"

Draco nodded.

"I sort of hoped she would find her own happiness; we could be with each other in a way that wasn't so fucking bitter. That is what we have been these past few years: bitter. When I was with Astoria, I never thought I would see thirty. Now that I have a whole life in front of me, of course I want her in it. She is kind, adorable, and a wicked talented singer. We were horrible for each other, but now … When she told me, I realized that five years from now we won't be anything to each other. She will be nothing more than a memory."

"It is fine to feel sad for her, and for the future you could lose."

"I am more upset about the future she will lose."

Hermione asked, "How long does she have?"

"Three to four years, perhaps less. It avoided detection for so long, this is …" Draco shook his head. "Every year she was tested, and every year there was nothing."

"Perhaps you will have the time to make new memories with her."

"Astoria and I were never much for open communication. The truth is that I am never going to see her again."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because she is going to America and will not come back. That is her dream, and she will work herself until she cannot work any longer. Then she will die there, having done what she loves for as long as she could."

"Will you visit her?"

Draco shook his head.

"I don't believe either of us would prefer that. It's too painful."

Hermione slowly trailed the pads of her fingers along Draco's thigh.

"When you look at yourself thirty years on, what do you see?"

"You."

"What about me?"

"I'm married to you." Draco smiled. "You and me, perhaps a child, perhaps not."

Hermione squeezed Draco's knee and said, "Perhaps two."

"Oh, greedy, are we?" Draco laughed and kissed the top of Hermione's head. "Two, then."

"What do you see from everyone else?"

"Your school is the best institution for early magical education. You are Minister for Magic, with another Order of Merlin First Class commendation. Scarlett has retired as the best Chaser England as ever seen. Sebastien is a prominent lawyer. Naevia is a highly sought-after choreographer. Gabrielle and Peter have their own child, as well. Romilda and Gabriel are mostly the same, older, travelling the world when they can. Blaise and Dean are still shagging on random pieces of furniture. Bastien still has heart eyes every time he looks at Padma. They won't ever have children because Padma doesn't want any."

"You know what?" Hermione laughed. "I think you are bang-on."

"But most importantly," Draco said, "I still wake up every day to find you in my arms."