Recap:

"We have something else too," she said, lowering her eyes.

"What?" But the second he asked he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Each other."

Chapter 12: Truth and Consequence

Hermione sighed deeply and tucked her hands under her head. Beside her, Draco slept peacefully, his silvery blonde hair shimmering in the light of the small candle she burned on the nightstand. But, no matter how amazing and perfect their night had been, Hermione could not help but feel a crippling sense of guilt. Draco was spending the night in her house, again. The more he stayed here, the more their children were in danger of his parents.

The thought of her babies being in any sort of danger was almost too much for her heart to handle. If she worried about them too much she'd never get anything done. But, if she didn't worry about them as much then she wouldn't feel like a good mother. Already, with who their father was, she felt she'd betrayed them in some way. No matter what Scarlet and Jade would been in danger of the purebloods and Voldemort-followers, but the fact that their father was a pureblood put them at the top of the list. And that was the number one reason Hermione used to justify her lie to her friends and family.

"Stupid purebloods," she heard herself mutter, then blew out the candle and curled into Draco's warm body, telling herself that tonight was the last night.

"I want to come back when everyone leaves," Draco said, his eyes on Jade as he wiped the strained squash from her face for the hundredth time that morning.

Beside him Hermione sighed, silently grateful that Scarlet was a relatively clean baby when it came to eating. Baths, on the other hand, were where she excelled at messes.

"Is there a problem with that?" He looked over at her, knowing that there was. He also knew that from the moment they woke up that morning she'd been dying to get him out of the house. She regretted their night last night, but how much he was about to find out.

"Of course there is," she said, her voice calm, as if they were having a pleasant conversation about the weather.

"Mind sharing?"

"You know damn well what the problem is, Draco. Don't play games with me today, I am not in the mood."

"You never were," he scoffed, then stood and lifted Jade into his arms. Hermione followed suit, cursing the fact that she could never really show him just how angry she was with the girls around.

"How can you pretend that there's no threat to your daughters' lives!" she hissed, trudging after him into the bathroom, where he sat on the edge of the tub and began to draw a bath.

"Do you really think I would purposely put them in danger!" he countered, his anger rising at her suggestion. "You never trusted me, Hermione! Never! Well, what have I done to you that would make you think I would put my own flesh and blood in danger? I have loved those girls since the moment they were born and nothing in this world could make me bring them to harm. I am not the Draco you knew at Hogwarts."

Hermione fell silent, her eyes shifting to the slowly-filling tub.

"I take it by your silence that you have nothing to say to me."

"You can't blame me for being afraid for them," she sighed, taking a seat opposite him and testing the water. "I'm their mother, and a muggle-born. They're in twice as much danger simply because I'm their mother."

"I have the same fears as you, Hermione. I am their father, and I know exactly how you feel, but if we go through life constantly worrying then we'll never be happy."

"You never were happy," she pointed out, then turned away and eased Scarlet into the tub, her little legs kicking with excitement. "Draco Malfoy and happy don't belong in the same sentence."

"You're right," he said sourly. "I probably don't deserve to be happy as much as others, but I can try. Hermione." He reached out with his free hand, the one that wasn't supporting Jade's back in the tub, and took Hermione's free hand. "These girls have changed my life. Without them I wouldn't even entertain the idea of being happy. And without them I…I wouldn't have you."

His words were so blunt and startling that it took her a moment to absorb them.

"You'll never have me, Draco," she said, just as honestly. "You lost that chance when you decided to use me. I do believe you've changed, and I have forgiven you for all I've needed to in order to have you in my life as their father, but I don't think I could ever forget."

"Hermione—"

"Draco, you need to go. People are going to start arriving in an hour."

"Marry me, Hermione."

For a long while she simply stared at him, unsure if he'd spoken the words her ears heard. And then, causing him to jump slightly, she let out a great laugh, unable to stop until their eyes met and she saw the seriousness his held. She took a deep breath, and said, "No."

"Why?" he demanded, almost before she'd answered. Of course he knew that's what her answers was going to be.

"The same reason you sneak over here to see your own daughters. It's completely out of the question. What's wrong with you? Besides, you don't get married because you have children with someone. You get married because you're in love, and we are not in love."

"But—"

"Draco, there's no convincing me. I want to be in love, I want to have a chance at it, and if I marry you out of necessity then I will never have that chance. I'm sorry."

"Don't waste your breath with apologies," he huffed. "Forget I said anything."

"Please don't be mad."

"Mad?" he laughed bitterly. "You—"

"Hermione!"

Their backs stiffened simultaneously and their eyes went to the open door. Downstairs, Harry had apparated and he was heading their way.

"Shit!" she swore under her breath. "Draco, leave! Go! Harry can't—"

"Harry can't what?" Harry asked as he came strolling into the bathroom.

"Harry can't see the birthday girls before they've been dolled up for their big day," she said off the top of her head, her heart pounding. Draco had apparated at the last possible second.

"Well," he said, sitting in the spot Draco had just vacated, "I figured you might need some help with the girls this morning. Babies aren't exactly a walk in the park."

"Maybe not for you," she joked.

"Jade," Harry said, addressing the blue-eyed baby at his side. "Your mother gets stranger every time I see her."

At midnight exactly Draco apparated into Hermione's bedroom. She didn't even bat an eyelash, and motioned for him to follow her downstairs, taking them into the kitchen.

"We have to be on good terms if we're going to raise these girls," Hermione said, setting a kettle on the stove.

"I agree," he said shortly. Hermione sat down next to him at the kitchen table, the events of the day and night before on a constant loop in her mind. Draco Malfoy was an enigma of a man, someone she'd despised since the moment she met him first year. And yet, after all those years of name-calling and out-and-out torture, he ended up being the father of her children. If she could go back and redo her life she knew now that she wouldn't change a thing. Scarlet and Jade were the best things that ever happened to her, and that was all because of Draco. "I've made several attempts."

"Clearly they were not well thought out attempts."

Draco shot her a nasty sneer.

"How did you think we were going to get away with marriage?" And she honestly wanted to know. That had been the single-most boggling part of their conversation in the bathroom. How?

"People do it all the time."

"Muggles do it all the time," she corrected as she stood and went to fix their tea. "It's impossible for people in the wizarding world, Draco. You, if anyone, should know that."

"I only want what's best for Scarlet and Jade. I refuse to be the father my father was to me."

The obvious pain in his voice gave her pause. Then she came back to the table, setting the drinks on before them. He took his immediately, as if it possessed some healing properties that would cure their situation, and drank down a big gulp. Hermione wondered how he didn't scald his mouth and throat, and took a small sip.

"Being a good father doesn't mean you have to be a husband. We can be single parents. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There's a lot wrong with that."

"Why did you ask me to marry you, Draco?" she asked, her chest pounding.

"Because I love you," he said without skipping a beat. It took him several minutes to realize his words, and, when he did, grabbed up his mug and hurled it across the kitchen. Hermione didn't flinch. "What the hell did you put in that!" he demanded, pulling her to her feet roughly. "Tell me!"

"Truth Serum," she admitted, not scared of him in the least. She knew he would never harm her.

"Truth Serum! But I didn't taste any!" (A/N: In my wizarding world Truth Serum has a distinct taste and smell—I don't remember if it does in J.K. Rowling's world, but it does for the sake of my story).

"It's new. Flavorless and odorless…I'm sorry Draco," she sighed, "but I just had to know. Nothing you've done since we started sneaking around ever made any sense to me. You can be so great to me and the girls, but then all of a sudden your mood changes…I think I always knew, but I just had to know for sure…"

"Why did you do that to me?" It was not a demand this time, and his voice was lower and truly sad. "Everything was fine before. Everything was perfect, and you ruined it. Why!"

"Because I…Because I had to know."

"I can't even say that I hate you right now!" He pushed her back into her chair, his fists clenched at his sides.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"I'm leaving!" And then he was gone, disappeared into thin air.

"It's because I love you too," she whispered, her voice a convocation of pitiful sobs, knowing that he would not be back for some time and that she might never find the courage to tell him. Because the moment she did he would be with her. And she could never ask him to put himself in that kind of danger. No matter what.

"That was precious."

Draco whirled around, wand at the ready, his blood thundering in his ears.

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy smirked at him from across the living room, their wands visible under their cloaks.

"Go to hell!" he hissed, shoving past them. Lucius grabbed him painfully by the arm and threw him onto the floor, managing to get his wand away from him as well.

"We know your little secret, son," the taller man with longer hair said, his icy blue eyes narrowed, while his lips still held a calm smile. "And we are not pleased."

"I told you I would find out what you were hiding," Narcissa chimed in, her anger flaring instantly.

Still on the floor, Draco struggled to keep his face free of emotion. If he acted like he gave a damn about Hermione and the girls then they would charge over there immediately and kill them all without warning. But if he ignored them and pretended like his babies didn't matter then they would probably torture them to get the truth from him. Either way they lost, a notion that sent chilling pains of guilt through his system—Hermione had said those exact words.

"Now that you know," Draco said, climbing to his feet. "What will you do?"

"Don't worry yourself with your parents' affairs," Lucius said, patting his son's head. "Everything will be taken care of in due time. Until then, enjoy your time with your little family," he laughed.

It was at that moment that Draco knew how truly evil his parents were and that he would never be able to change them. The idea of hating them, of protecting his daughters and Hermione to the death, made him want to vomit. But, if that's what it came down to, then that's what he would do.

"Drop dead, father," he said, remaining firm.

"Don't talk back to him!" his mother snapped, giving him a stinging slap across the face. She grabbed the front of his robes, choking the air from his lungs. "Remember the generosity we're showing you. You have a chance to make the right choice, to return to your family and sever your ties with the mudbloods. Do not disappoint us again." She kissed him roughly on the forehead, then let him drop to the floor.

"I hate to see your mother upset, Draco. Please don't give us a reason to turn out backs to you."

"Turn your backs?" Draco laughed, his eyes misting. He was beyond grateful—if it could be called that—that they were giving him any amount of time, but he knew they were only toying with him. A brutal truth that stung his buried and forgotten inner child. "You would never."

"You're right," Lucius chuckled, as if he'd told a joke. "Good night son."

"Draco!" Hermione gasped. It had only been twenty minutes since he apparated in a swirl of emotions. What on earth could he be doing back so soon? "What—"

"Grab only want you need!" he commanded, then ran out the door to the nursery.

"What the hell are you talking about!" she stammered. By the time she reached him he already had the girls out of the crib and in their jackets on the changing table. He was in the process of stuffing nearly everything in their drawers into two big suitcases. "Draco!" She grabbed his shoulders and forced him to come to terms with reality. "What happened?"

"They know," he said without wasting time, and then continued to pack the bags.

Hermione sat back, clutching her chest, unable to form a clear thought for a full two minutes. And then, regaining her demeanor, she pulled Draco to his feet and slammed him into the dresser.

"It's your fault!" Hermione screamed, her entire body shaking with fear and rage. "You did this! You-You weren't careful! You brought this on us! You—"

"Hermione please!" he begged. "We don't have time for this. Pack your things. I'm taking us to a safe place and Dumbledore will be our secret-keeper. You can hate me forever, but please listen to me now."

"How could you?" she whispered. "I put their lives in your hands and you betrayed us."

"I am going to fight to the death if I have to!" he yelled, shoving the bags at her. "I love you Hermione! I love you more than you could know, and I love Scarlet and Jade and I will die for you, do you understand that!"

She nodded like a frightened child being reprimanded by its parents.

It only took them another five minutes to gather all that they knew they would need.

"I've already made the arrangements with Dumbledore," Draco explained, and kissed his daughters on the tops of their heads. "Take the Floo network to his office at Hogwarts, then he'll take you to your hideout."

"When will you be there?" she asked, the bag of Floo Powder feeling like a bag of cement.

"I won't," he said, lowering his eyes. "I don't know where you're going for your own safety. I don't know what kinds of tricks my parents have up their sleeves, but I will not let them us them against me. You're too important to me."

"Draco."

"Go Hermione." He pushed her gently towards the fireplace. "I have to get ready for this. When they find out I put you in hiding they'll come for me right away."

"Be-Be careful," she said, her cheeks wet with tears. "You have to come back."

"I will protect you," he said, unable to look at the panic in her eyes.

"Draco—"

"Go!" he demanded, his teeth clenched. "I won't lose you to stubbornness!"

Hermione took a handful of Floo Powder, said the right words, and disappeared into the fireplace, leaving a cloud of smoke and raging emotion in her wake.

Draco turned from the place she stood only seconds before, straightened his back, tightened his jaw, and knew, without a doubt, that one of the parties would not make it out of their next confrontation alive. Either he or his parents would parish. He knew they would not hesitate to strike him down, and he knew that he would. They were still his parents, the people who taught and raised him. It would be like Scarlet or Jade turning their wands on him.

"No," he said to his conscience, his wand gripped firmly in his fist. "I am not my parents!" And for the first time in his life he believed he could be something more, something better than them.

Without them he had a real shot at happiness, a life that didn't revolve around ever-lurking fears and deep-seeded hatred.

But, most importantly, without them all that he held dear—the only people he loved—would be safe. And that was not something he was willing to gamble with again. His selfishness had gotten them into trouble. It would have to be his love and determination—and very well his life—to get them out of it.

Gasp! How dare I leave it there! Noooo! Bad author, bad,Heeheehee! Oh how I love cliffhangers :)

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