20 September 2010, 6:10 p.m.

Hermione glanced at her watch for the fifth time. He was late and he was going to make her late too. She hated this. She tapped her foot impatiently and absently bit her nails.

Her parents were expecting them at six o'clock. It was ten past six.

She finally sat down on her sofa and levitated her handbag to her with a wave of her wand. She was about to take out her mobile phone, when the green flames erupted in the fireplace. She leapt to her feet.

"Twenty minutes late! Are you kidding me?" she hissed, glaring at Draco, who was holding their four-year-old son.

His eyes were hard and he looked tired.

Hermione's eyes flicked downward, looking at her ex-husband's body. He was still wearing his Auror uniform. A white shirt, rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed arms contracted with the weight of their son. A pair of perfectly fitting black trousers. A leather wand holder that crossed his torso, showing his musculature clearly through the fabric of his clothes. And finally, his official badge as Director of the Aurors' Office, hanging on his left pectoral, shining in the light of the room.

Draco's long blond hair was tied up in a loose bun, highlighting his perfectly trimmed beard and his grey eyes, which met hers as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace.

She swallowed.

Holy Merlin, he was beautiful. She had forgotten how well that uniform fit him. He hadn't worn it in her presence for a while.

"Sorry, we had an emergency at the Ministry. I had to stay longer than expected," he apologised coldly as he set his son down.

She nodded, her frustration dissipating now that they'd arrived. His somewhat stern tone still had an effect on her and, now that he was explaining it to her, she understood that he was not responsible for the delay. Hermione knew how demanding his new job was.

"Mummy!" exclaimed her son as he rushed towards her. A cuddly toy –a small green dragon– dangled from one hand and the other gripped a small red backpack, also shaped like a dragon.

She immediately took him in her arms and held him close, breathing in the smell of his baby shampoo. He was only four years old, not yet three feet tall, but already very smart. Draco liked to say that he got it from both of them.

She met her ex-husband's gaze over her son's shoulder. His shoulders were tense, but his eyes were still tender after watching his son run to his mother. She didn't miss the sadness flash in his eyes though. She understood it so well. Having to leave their son every week was a true ordeal.

"I missed you, sweetheart," she whispered to him before kissing his cheek. "Did everything go well with Dad this week?"

"Yes! We ate a lot of ice cream, went to Uncle Blaise's and even went on a broom ride!"

As soon as he said that, the little boy put both hands over his mouth, as if he had just made a big mistake. And he had.

Hermione turned her eyes to her ex-husband and raised an eyebrow, sternly.

"You don't say, Alioth," she said without taking her eyes off Draco.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I forgot I wasn't supposed to say," he apologised, turning to his father with a deeply apologetic expression.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go put your things in your room while I talk to your father? That way we'll be ready to leave for Granny's as soon as you get back, okay?" Hermione offered tenderly as she set him down.

He nodded briskly, before running to his father to beg for a kiss, and then rushing to his room. As soon as he was gone, Hermione lost her smile and crossed her arms under her breast.

"You promised me you wouldn't make him fly when I wasn't there," she accused him.

"He was with his cousins, I wasn't going to forbid it when everyone else was doing it," he explained just as seriously, having also lost the tenderness in his gaze to what seemed like boredom.

Draco hid behind a mask of indifference. He hadn't done so in her presence in years.

"You didn't keep your promise."

That was the only thing Hermione could say. She was disappointed. She was almost teary-eyed. She had trusted him, terrified that her son would get hurt in her absence, but he'd just done what he wanted.

"Hermione, listen," he sighed as he crossed his arms in turn, as sternly as ever. "You're not going to be able to constantly watch him. I have him every other week and I'm not going to stop him from having fun just because you're not around."

She wanted to yell at him, to hit him, to make him see reason, but she did nothing. She remained silent and simply waited for her son to return, looking away.

She was angry with him. She felt that she had lost the trust she had placed in him, that he no longer understood her, that he no longer cared about her. She felt like she was nothing to him, that she had disappeared from his life and had never been part of it. Was she no longer the woman he loved? The woman he protected body and soul?

She couldn't help but want to take revenge, to do something that would annoy him just as much.

"Could you watch him on Thursday night?" she said as she heard her son running down the stairs. "I have a dinner."

She knew perfectly well how he would interpret that; she was counting on it.

And it struck home. She saw his eyes darken slightly and his jaw tighten as her implication became clear. Perhaps he had not lost his possessiveness after all. She regretted giving up an evening with her son, but she acted before she had time to think about it. Bloody Gryffindor.

"Of course," he replied simply, teeth clenched. "What time should I pick him up?"

"Six o'clock? Just so I have time to get ready."

He nodded in response, just as their son came back into the living room.

Draco left after kissing Alioth goodbye and wishing him a good week. There was no need to tell him that they would see each other again soon.

Hermione dismissed her ex-husband rather coldly and watched him disappear into the flames with a slight twinge of sadness.

oOo

22 September 2010, 5:57 p.m.

Draco straightened his suit in front of his bedroom mirror. He had taken the day off and was preparing to pick up his son for the evening. The very thought annoyed him. Why had she chosen to schedule her date in the middle of her week with Alioth? He didn't understand. She never did that, she always cherished every minute spent with their son.

He did his best not to think about it. Not to think about the fact that she had met someone else. That maybe she would end her evening in the arms of another man. That he would touch her where he had been the only one to do so. Perhaps she would even submit to another.

He had tried to put some distance between them since the divorce, to make things easier despite their undoubted love, but for the first time he couldn't do it. He felt awful. He hated the idea of her loving another man. That any man could touch her.

Draco sighed. He shouldn't think about that. He had to keep things in perspective. Two months had passed, he had to move on with his life. If he had once possessed her, he no longer did.

Taking one last look at his reflection in the mirror, he left his room and headed for the foyer to floo into the flames of the manor's fireplace.

"Daaaaad!" his son exclaimed as soon as he saw him appear in the hearth of Hermione's house.

He smiled as sincerely as he could while Alioth ran towards him.

"Hi, bud," he smiled, kissing his wavy blonde hair. "All ready to go?"

Alioth nodded briskly and rushed into his room as soon as his feet touched the ground again. At that moment, Hermione walked into the living room, wearing a long black silk dressing gown, under which the lingerie set she wore could be glimpsed.

Draco swallowed hard and forced himself to look away. She wasn't wearing that for him, he had to keep that in mind. She didn't belong to him anymore, she was no longer his wife. She would immediately notice his fiery gaze.

"Thank you for coming," she called across the room.

He could feel her gaze on him, but kept his stubbornly focused on the living room window.

"I don't know what I would have done without you," she then admitted with a nervous chuckle.

"As usual," he replied simply, in a flat, almost cold tone. "Do you want me to drop him off at school straight away tomorrow morning?" he then asked.

"Oh, well– If it doesn't interfere with your schedule too much, that would be fine with me," she stammered.

Draco repressed a smile. It reminded him of their first date, when he had offered to take her home. He'd insisted on taking her home, and fortunately too. They spent the night together for the first time and certainly not the last.

"I'm only doing paperwork tomorrow, I'll have time to drop him off," he said without taking his eyes off the window.

"Thanks, Draco."

He simply nodded in response. He wanted to leave. The scent of the kitchen, mixed with the characteristic smell of the house, reminded him of too many things.

Fortunately for him, he soon heard the rapid footsteps of his son, who joined him after saying goodbye to his mother.

oOo

27 September 2010, 6:30 p.m.

Hermione appeared in one of the Atrium chimneys of the Ministry for Magic, her son clinging firmly to her. Draco had sent her a patronus asking her to drop Alioth off directly at the Aurors' Office, as he had a last minute meeting that required him to stay longer at the Ministry.

She'd acquiesced. After all, he had done that favour for her a few days earlier, she could return it. Even though it had been a lie. Even though she'd made Draco believe it was a date, when instead she'd spent her evening under a blanket, with ice cream as her only companion. She was a fool.

"Mum?" said Alioth, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"When is Dad coming home?"

Hermione's throat tightened. It wasn't the first time he'd asked such questions. He hadn't really understood the significance of his parents' separation. He thought it was a game, something temporary, and it broke his mother's heart every time.

She missed her ex-husband so much.

It had been two months since they were divorced. Two months of falling asleep alone every night with tear streaks down her cheeks. Two months of struggling not to give up everything to join him.

They had separated by mutual agreement. With Hermione working at St. Mungo's as Head of Spell Pathology, and her ex-husband having just recently been transferred to the Head of the Auror Office, their schedules had taken on a life of their own.

They couldn't stand it.

With all their free time devoted to their son, they had hardly any time for themselves. When Hermione was on duty at the hospital, Draco was looking after Alioth, and vice versa. So their time together had become much rarer, if not non-existent. They had always known that they were both hard workers and that work would always be an important part of their lives. However, they never thought that it would reach the point of no return.

He had lectured her several times not to think about them, to give priority to her patients. She had admonished him for never organising to free himself. All this was done in bitterness.

Finally, they ended up separating, seeing that they could no longer find a common ground. They immediately regretted it, without knowing that the other was in the same state of mind. Distance and loneliness were not things they had ever endured.

"Do you remember what I explained to you the other day, Alioth?" she whispered to him as they entered one of the Ministry lifts. "Mum and Dad aren't a couple any more, they don't live together."

"But why?" he asked again, with sadness in his voice.

"Because sometimes mums and dads just don't get on well enough to live together anymore, sweetheart. And that doesn't mean that they don't love their children, or that they don't love each other, but sometimes it's better to separate. All that doesn't stop Dad and I loving you very much, Ali'."

"But I want to go back to the park with you and Dad, like last time. I want to play with you and have you pick me up from school like Lily's parents..."

Hermione lowered her eyes. She wanted that too. She wanted it so much. She missed her husband, she missed their time together, she missed the days at the park with their son... she missed everything.

"What if I talk to Dad? Maybe we could arrange for both of us to pick you up from school next week, what do you think?" she offered, attempting a smile, as the lift stopped at the auror floor.

She didn't know how Draco would take this request, but she could always try, convincing herself that she would do it for their son.

"And Dad will be sleeping at home after?" he asked excitedly, thrilled by his mother's proposal.

"Well–I–I don't think so, darling. Daddy lives at the manor now, so I think he'd rather stay there."

Her heart broke as she watched her son nod so sadly. She wished she could have told him that yes, his father would stay at her house. At their home.

Shet kissed his forehead and walked down the main corridor of the Aurors' Office. When she reached the door with Draco Malfoy's name on it, she knocked a few times, receiving only a muffled grunt of approval.

"Daddy!" exclaimed Alioth as he wriggled out of his mother's arms.

Draco looked up and the serious expression he had been wearing disappeared the second he saw his son running towards him. He leaned back slightly in his seat and hugged him.

"Hi, buddy, sorry I didn't welcome you straight to the manor."

"Is it because you have a lot of work to do?" asked Alioth innocently. "You have to arrest all the big bad guys?"

"Exactly," he laughed softly in response. "I have to fill out a few more reports, then we can go home. We're going to dinner at your grandparents' tonight."

Hermione couldn't suppress a fond smile as she watched her son beam so broadly at this news.

"Can Mum come too?!" he then exclaimed, hopping onto his father's lap.

Hermione immediately lost her smile and blushed under her ex-husband's gaze. He looked embarrassed too. She had thought her son understood...

"I'm on call tonight, sweetheart, I won't be able to join you," she answered to avoid explanations that would make them both uncomfortable.

Draco thanked her with his eyes as he ran a hand through his son's hair. Her gaze lingered on the pair of them for a few seconds. Alioth had nodded sadly, before resting his head against his father's chest, putting his thumb in his mouth. Draco whispered a few words in Alioth's ear, with a tenderness that Hermione had missed so much.

She didn't realise that she had been staring at them for longer than necessary until Draco cleared his throat. She blushed.

"Sorry, I–I've got to go," she stammered. "I'll see you next Saturday, sweetheart," she added, waving at him.

"Go give your mother a kiss," Draco whispered.

Alioth jumped out of his arms and rushed towards her, his hands outstretched. She hugged him tightly and closed her eyes, enjoying his scent and sweetness for one last minute.

"Be good and remember to give your grandparents a big hug for me, okay?"

"Okay!" the little boy smiled, before kissing her on the cheek.

She straightened up and bid her ex-husband goodbye with a polite smile. She didn't miss the burning look behind his eyes, any more than he had missed stare when she saw him in his full Auror outfit.

oOo

30 September 2010, 8:20 p.m.

Draco disaparrated out of his parents' manor. He had just left his son, who had been asking to spend the night at his grandparents' home ever since they'd had dinner there last week.

Obviously, he hadn't been able to refuse. He didn't refuse Alioth much, in fact. He spent so much time lamenting the fate of his parents that he wanted to console him as much as possible, to try to make up for it, to make amends.

Moreover, he could take advantage of this free evening to finally accept Blaise and Theodore's proposal to go for a drink. He'd been putting it off for weeks, mainly because of either work or his son, but this time, there was nothing holding him back.

He landed at Diagon's Alley and headed for his favourite pub, the Golden Dragon, pulling his cloak tightly over his shoulders. He didn't want to catch a cold either.

As soon as he entered, he spotted Blaise and Theodore, seated at their usual table in the corner. He joined them with a slight grin while ordering a whisky from a waiter who was passing by.

"We thought you'd never come!" Theo said when he saw him.

He was seated comfortably in an armchair, a cigar in one hand and a glass in the other. Blaise was sitting opposite him, in a similar position.

"Sorry, by the time I got Ali' to bed and my father stopped giving me his opinion on the new laws passed by the Ministry, it was already past eight."

"I hear he wants to try again for the Wizengamot?" Blaise asked as he took a puff of his cigar.

Being part of the Wizengamot himself, Blaise was rather well informed about the upcoming elections. He didn't have to worry about that –he was already one of the favourites– but he still wanted to keep an eye on the new candidates, lest the assembly revert to its former conservative self.

"I'm afraid so," Draco sighed as he sat between them. "My mother tried to convince him that it would be pointless, but I fear he's already started his campaign behind her back. He's beyond reason."

"Then let him," Theo replied with a shrug. "Harry told me that he tried to get his position back on the Hogwarts Board of Governors as well, but with the professors' votes and Minerva's, he didn't make the cut."

"Sweet Salazar, he'll try anywhere," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes. "Thank you," he added to the waiter who had just dropped off a drink for him. "Anyway, I've talked about my old man enough to last me another year. What about the two of you? How's Ginevra?" he asked Blaise as he retrieved a cigar from the box in the centre of the table and lit it with his wand.

"Better. Now that the first trimester is finally over, the nausea is subsiding. I mean... she did try to ride her broomstick behind my back a couple of days ago, but other than that, everything's fine," he laughed, rolling his eyes.

"Merlin, if Hermione could hear that," Draco chuckled, unable to help himself.

He took a sip of his drink, shaking his head, before he froze, realising what he had just said. This hadn't happened to him once since their separation. He had seen to that. He swallowed.

Ever since she'd mentioned having a date, Draco hadn't stopped thinking about it. Night and day. He felt horrible, he missed her so much. And he was jealous, terribly jealous. She was his, nobody else's.

His two friends had not answered, equally disturbed by his answer. Theodore, however, had the sense to act to avoid further discomfort.

"Minerva has asked Harry to take over for her next year," he announced suddenly.

Blaise and Draco turned their heads sharply towards him at this, looking deeply shocked.

"At such a young age?" Blaise gasped.

"Of course not, you idiot," Theo scoffed, taking a distracted drag on his cigar. "I was just saying that to change the subject. He didn't even accept her offer to manage Gryffindor, do you really think she was going to ask him that? I know I married the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, and so on, and he's already been given loads of privileges, but I doubt Minerva will ever let anyone under sixty take the reins of Hogwarts."

"Salazar, don't ever do that again, I nearly had a stroke," Draco snapped sarcastically, putting a hand theatrically on his chest.

"Idiot," Theodore growled as he jabbed him, causing Blaise to laugh twice as hard.

oOo

30 September 2010, 11pm

Hermione had just finished her shift at the hospital. Normally she would have gone home immediately, but she decided against it. She had closed the eyes of three patients that night and needed to decompress badly.

So she found herself in Diagon's Alley, late in the evening, heading for her favourite pub: the Golden Dragon. Well, it was Draco's favourite bar, but she was so used to going there that she couldn't make an exception.

She went straight to the counter as she entered and ordered a whisky. She really needed to take her mind off things. In addition to the awful evening she had had, her week had not been easy. She'd been thinking about Draco –more than usual, anyway– and all the things she wished she'd said to him, all the things she wished she'd done to keep him.

She regretted it so much.

She tried to convince herself that they were doing it for their son, that they were doing it so he wouldn't grow up with his parents constantly at each other's throats, that they had avoided the worst by doing it so early.

She sighed and ran a hand over her face, before drinking her drink straight down.

"What a capacity for alcohol!" a male voice exclaimed to her right.

She turned her head and met the brown eyes of a man in his thirties. He was clearly devouring her with his eyes and offering her a most charming smile.

She probably would have cut the conversation short immediately, had she not just spotted her ex-husband over the man's shoulder. She did her best to hide her surprise at seeing him here. Who was with their son?

Perhaps it was exhaustion, perhaps it was the alcohol burning down her throat, but she decided to reciprocate the man's advances.

"Thank you very much," she replied with the falsest of smiles. "You're not from here, am I wrong?" she added, without really knowing why.

She knew it, but didn't want to admit it to herself.

Draco had just turned his gaze towards them and seen her. He couldn't take his eyes off her, his gaze burning her skin. So she decided to play. She just wasn't sure she wanted to win at this game.

"Is my accent that thick?" the man replied with a broad smile that disgusted her more than anything else.

"I must confess to having spent some time in France," she joked in a jovial voice that was clearly not like her.

Hermione could fel Draco's eyes boring into her, but she stubbornly kept hers on the man who had accosted her. Richard, he'd said… Or maybe Henry. She wasn't sure, her thoughts were elsewhere, she only concentrated on laughing at his tasteless jokes and putting her hand on his arm from time to time.

Half an hour passed like that. She was already quite drunk and the man in front of her kept undressing her with his eyes. He put a hand on her thigh, making her shudder with revulsion.

But there was one thing that made all this worth it: Draco hadn't looked away from her since she sat down.

"It's getting late, how about continuing this evening... somewhere else?"

Richard's voice –or Henry's, it didn't matter– snapped her out of her thoughts.

Deciding that this was her cue to leave, she smiled at him, finished her fourth glass of whisky and stood up, picking up her bag.

"I've got to use the loo," she smiled, placing her hand on his knee as she moved closer. "I'll be right back," she whispered to him, leaning into his ear.

She made sure finally to look Draco in the eye, before kissing Richard –or Henry– on the cheek. She offered the older man a little wink and headed for the pub's toilets. She was proud of herself. Very proud of herself.

Her evening might not have ended the way she wanted it to –that is, at her ex-husband's side– but she knew she had managed to get his attention.

She prepared to apparate as she reached the ladies' room, but no sooner had she opened the door than she was suddenly pushed inside.

The door slammed shut and she was slammed against a wall. The heady smell of cologne and mint toothpaste invaded her nostrils. She thought she would faint as she recognised her ex-husband.

He brought his mouth to her ear, pressed himself against her and raised a hand to her neck.

"What are you playing at?" he growled in a hoarse voice, tightening his grip around her throat.