Disclaimer: I do not own any original Harry Potter characters. Sniff sniff.

Claimer: I own Jack Harry Arthur Potter, Maxmillian Xavier Black, and the entire 'de Varci' family.

This story is being used for entertainment purposes only, no money is being made and no violation of copyright intended.

Read, enjoy, and review!!! *****************************************************************

This chapter is dedicated to Shawn. **************************************************************

Four days after Jack's birth, Harry and Ginny returned to Hogwarts by means of a portkey which transported them to the front gates at 2 p.m.. Hermione, who had been excused from Potions to meet them, was waiting at the gate with Hagrid.

"Hey! You two! Over 'ere!" Hagrid boomed as the portkey arrived. They came walking over, pleased. Ginny was in a pair of new robes, smiling and happy. Harry was holding the tiny bundle that was Jack, the expression on his face matching Ginny's.

"Ginny, how are yeh? And you, Harry?" Hagrid asked. Ginny greeted Hermione and Hagrid with a hug.

"I'm great, Hagrid." She replied. Harry just grinned.

"Molly tol' Dumbledore tol' me it's a boy." Hagrid said.

"Yeah." Harry replied, passing the bundle over to him carefully. "This is Jack." Hagrid looked down at the wriggling baby and laughed.

"'E looks just like the two of yeh." He chuckled.

"So we've heard." Ginny laughed.

"Bless 'im. Anyway, Ginny, Dumbledore wants ter see yeh. An' little Jack here."

"What about Harry?" Ginny asked.

"I dunno. Dumbledore said he was ter 'ave a cuppa at my place an' he'd talk ter him later" Hagrid shrugged.

"Oh." Ginny said, taking Jack back from Hagrid. "Okay then. Herms, will you come with me?"

"Sure." Hermione said. "Snape will be royally pissed off that I missed the whole class though."

"Don't worry abou' tha' Hermione." Hagrid said. "I'll ask Dumbledore ter have a word wi' him. Now come one Harry, I've got a Pork Pie in the oven wi' your name on it." Hagrid strode off. Harry grimaced at the though of Hagrid's cooking and blew Ginny a kiss before running after Hagrid. The two girls made their way slowly up the path.

"Everyone's been asking about you." Hermione remarked. "I'm bombarded with questions every time I sit down anywhere."

"Good questions or bad?" Ginny asked.

"Good, or neutral. All seven-hundred-and-sixty-two of them."

"You counted?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Well, it was really boring with you guys gone." Hermione said defensively.

"Relax, Herms, I was joking, I just thought you and my brother would be able to occupy each other, if you know what I mean." Ginny laughed. Hermione turned a faint shade of pink and Ginny noticed.

"Hey, what have you guys been up to since we've been gone, eh? I thought Ron said the mental image of me and Harry was enough to put him of doing it forever."

"Oh, he did." Hermione replied uncomfortably. Thankfully, Ginny changed the subject.

"Did Malfoy say anything?" Ginny asked.

"No, surprisingly. I was expecting him to use it to his advantage that Harry isn't around, but he's been silent." Hermione responded.

"They reached the castle, chatting amicably, and went into Dumbledore's office.

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It was late that night when Hermione returned from Ginny's apartment. She had wanted to stay the night to make sure Ginny really was okay, but Ginny had practically kicked her out.

Lavender was nowhere to be seen, and hadn't left a note. Hermione showered and spent an hour trying to sleep, but she just couldn't. Her head was full of thoughts and memories that wouldn't let her put them away. So she slipped out of the hut quietly, and walked along the beach.

It was beautiful at night. Beautiful and empty. She walked along the spray, feeling it on her legs in the moonlight, her white nightgown fluttering in the breeze. Lavender had talked her into buying the nightgown. It was satin- y with white straps, and reached down to her knees. Hermione was fine with sleeping in just a sweatshirt, but Lavender found that unacceptable.

As the wind caught her hair, Hermione remembered her walks around the lake with Ron in the summer. He had been her fist true love, but she had gotten over him a long time ago. With Viktor Krum it had just been a flirtatious, long-distance romance, but with Ron it had been real love.

About fifteen minutes into her walk, Hermione saw a figure seated in front of her on the sand, staring pensively into the sea. As she grew closer, she could make out his features in the moonlight.

"Draco?" she asked. "What are you doing out here?"

"Remembering." He replied.

"Me too." Hermione said. She was about to move on when Draco spoke again.

"Don't leave. Please, stay." He said. Sat down beside him, thinking it would be nice to have someone to talk to.

"What are you remembering?" Hermione asked.

"My ex-wife. How happy I used to be. How glad my son used to be to see me."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked gently. She had already gone through Ginny's problems tonight, so she could easily play psychiatrist for Draco again.

"You have problems of your own." Draco said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I know." Hermione replied.

"Then surely you have no wish to hear about mine." Draco said. He turned to face her, his gray eyes full of mixed emotion.

"I do. If you're willing to tell."

"It's a long story."

"I have all night." Hermione said.

"Where should I start?"

"Your ex-wife's name. How you met. And carry on from there."

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It was a warm, pleasant summer in the French countryside. The birds sang and the sky was blue. Everything seemed light and airy; children played, dogs barked. But inside, Draco Malfoy was dying. He was full of grief, pain and sorrow. He was ashamed of his name, his heritage, and the blood running through his veins. He didn't eat or sleep. He stayed locked in his bedroom watching the ceiling except for one hour a day, during which he would visit the graveyard.

This day was like no other. He ignored the house-elf's anguished pleas for 'Master Draco to please eat something." He had set all the servants free, but one house-elf remained, refusing to leave. She spent most of her time cooking elaborate meals than no one ate.

At sunset, he slipped out of the house silently and made his way to the aforementioned graveyard. He sat silently by the grave that he had visited every day without fail since the beginning of summer two weeks before.

"Mother." He said quietly. "It's me. Draco. Today Annali tried to make eat again, but I just can't stand the thought of food. Food brings nourishment and life. But what I want is death. I don't understand it. I haven't eaten since I've come home, but still I'm alive. I haven't lost any weight and there are no signs of illness. What's going on? Why am I still alive?"

"All I want is to be done with this miserable existence. Everywhere I'm seen, people will spit at my feet and regard me because of my name, because of who I am. All because of him. Lucius. That's who he is to me. Lucius. He was never my father, not really. Fathers are people you can rely on. They're people that are there for you. It sounds too clichéd for words, but it's so true. Instead of teaching me to ride a broom or helping me with my homework, Lucius only taught me to hate anyone associated with Muggles and how to hide any emotion under a façade of coldness."

"He was never a good person, not ever. Every single inch of him was hate and malice and disdain. No one was good enough for him. Not me, not you, no one. Why did you stay with him? I always asked you, and you never answered. He beat you senseless, and me. You tried to protect me when I was small and it just got worse."

"Do you know how it felt, for me? That time when I was fifteen and he cut you with the knife he carried around under his cloak. I walked into the Dining Room to find you collapsed on the floor in a pool of blood. You were barely alive, but you refused to be taken to hospital. I had to heal you myself, and even so. That scar would never have healed, Mother. Never."

"I hated it so much. Seeing my own mother screaming in agony at the arms of the husband she had once loved. But what could I do? Once, last year, he beat you unconscious like he normally did. And I flew at him in a fit of anger. Do you know what he did to me? I never told you. He took out that knife, and he carved into the back of my neck. The wound bled for days."

"I you were alive now, you would ask why I never told you before. But what good would it have done? He killed you anyway."

Draco turned from the headstone, his head pounding. His eyes were filling with tears that he would never let fall. He hadn't cried since he was four years old, and he wouldn't start now. He went over to his father's headstone and spat on the grave without hesitation. When he turned again, there was a girl standing behind his Mother's headstone.

"Hello." She said. The first thing he noticed were her eyes. Deep and turquoise, they swirled with blues and greens like no other eyes he'd ever seen. He said nothing. The girl continued speaking, hesitantly.

"My name is Cendrillon."

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This is my favorite chapter in the whole story, I swear it. I guess bribery doesn't work with you guys, since I only got 14 reviews and not 15. cries.. But still. I love you, all my reviewers! If there's anything you don't understand, then don't hesitate to ask in your reviews. There will be more soon, okay? My new laptop is coming in 7-10 days. Eeeeeeeeeee!