Theo had replied to his owl, agreeing to meet, the tone of it was cautious but it was a start. Draco was willing to take anything he could get. His hands shook as he got ready to meet him. If this didn't go well, there was no hope.
His mother was already showing visible signs of her distress, spending hours in front of his sister's picture on the tapestry. His father had become a recluse. Hiding in his study, the realisation that he had come close to sanctioning the murder of his daughter, that he had watched her be tortured in her own home having more of a profound impact on the man than anything else had. The one time Draco had seen him in the fortnight before the meeting with Theo, Lucius had tentatively asked him if he thought there was something that could be done to help muggleborns assimilate.
It had taken him several minutes to form a coherent thought, demurring that he would think on it but that possibly he wasn't the best resource.
"I need to prove to her that I've changed." His father had said desperately. "That I've learned. I almost murdered her, Draco. All because of my own prejudice."
Draco had had no idea what to reply to that.
He met Theo in a tiny pub in muggle London, no longer feeling welcome in wizarding establishments. The other man was sat with apparent ease in a corner that afforded him a full few of the door, sipping a pint of something. He looked more sure of himself than Draco remembered from school, less cowed, less inclined to blend into the background. This man was comfortable in his own skin and Draco envied him that.
"Draco." Theo tipped his head in greeting as Draco sat down, pint in hand. "I was surprised to hear from you."
"I can imagine."
"Draco, let's be frank. We both know this is not a catch up. We were never friends, regardless of how you framed your owl. So what is it you want?"
"I wish to discuss your wife."
Theos eyebrows rose, clearly surprised. "Hermione? Are you intending to warn me off, Draco? Because I must tell you, it is more than a little too late, and I do not hold with our previous ideology."
"No." Draco fidgeted, Theo watched him with interest. "No, I have no urge to warn you off. I have no idea how to say this Theo." he ran a hand agitatedly through his hair.
"Might I suggest you just say it?"
"Were you aware she was adopted?" he blurted out.
Theo went still, his eyes watching Draco warily. "Yes. I was. I must admit to being curious how you were aware."
"I wasn't. Not until recently."
"I am not following Draco."
"You remember I once had a twin." Draco whispered as Theo paled.
"No. No, absolutely not."
"It was on the tapestry. Father had it hidden because Mother wouldn't leave the room for watching it, hoping something would show. She recently demanded it be rehung." he said wretchedly, fidgeting in his seat.
"Hermione looks nothing like Cassie!"
"No. She doesn't. I imagine someone glamoured her but it's her face on our tapestry, Theo. I...I don't know what to do. Mother is devastated, Father is barely coping. I..I feel ill every time I think of all the horrible things I said to Hermione at school. Every time I see her on our drawing room floor when I close my eyes."
Theo watched the usually composed man fall apart; he'd never seen Draco look so broken. He remembered Cassiopeia Malfoy from his childhood. Malfoy blonde with the Black curls, Cassie had been a whirlwind, bossy, demanding and utterly devoted to her brother, she had been the perfect pureblood princess. And one day she had disappeared. Taken from a dressmakers while Narcissa discussed fabrics. He remembered how it had devastated the family, knowing even as young as he was, that something irreparable had happened. And now, apparently she wasn't as gone as they had all thought.
He thought of his wife. He knew she had been frustrated by her lack of progress in finding her birth family. She had told him the story of her being found outside a muggle police station, with no idea what her name was or where she came from, with no memories at all. She suspected obliviation, the first eight years of her life were completely gone.
The Granger's had been her foster parents, they'd named her as she couldn't remember her previous one and they had loved her, to a certain extent, although despite Draco's assumptions, she'd never been adopted. The strange things she did meant they were never truly comfortable around her. They fostered other children during her time in school, always ensuring that they weren't there when she was home. It was one of the reasons she'd ended up staying with the Weasley's so often.
"I'm not sure what you want me to say Draco."
"Do...do you think she would ever be willing to speak to us?"
Theo sighed, draining a significant amount of his drink before he spoke. "She is desperate for information. The first eight years of her life are a blank, she assumes someone obliviated her. However, we both know her history with you is not good, maybe, and I truly mean maybe, she will speak to you and your mother. She spoke at your trial after all, and Harry owes your mother his life. Your father though, Draco?" he sighed again. "She still wakes screaming, begging Bella to stop."
Draco blanched. "I…..I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am. I was sorry before, when she was just Hermione Granger. Now? Now I worry it will drive me mad. She is not the only one who wakes screaming, remembering that day, even before this. Please. All I ask is that you ask her to meet one of us, even if it's only once."
Theo nodded as he moved to stand. "I'll owl you."
Draco sat for a long time after he had left, feeling the weight of all the decisions he had made, the things he'd said, wondering how different things would have been if Cassie had stayed with him. He wondered whether anything would ever be alright again.
Theo watched his wife, half listening as she spoke while flitting about the kitchen. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, wild, utterly untamed, she was captivating even as she wandered barefoot in the muggle jeans she loved so much, her bump visible, even under her oversized jumper.
"Hermione, love. Will you sit for a moment?"
"What? Theo, I need to finish dinner or we'll never eat. And honestly, I'm starving, which is entirely your fault!"
He laughed at her as he reached out to stroke her stomach. "My fault? Were you not involved, love?"
She pouted at him. "It is your fault because I am the one left dealing with this! I'm hungry Theo. All the damn time! I'm turning into Ron!"
He grinned at her, "Well they are honorary Weasely's. Can't we blame them instead?"
She laughed as she covered his hand with hers. "Maybe. Still sure we can't find out what they are?"
He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't you want it to be a surprise?"
"I hate surprises," she muttered petulantly.
"Do you really want to know that badly, sweetheart?"
"Ugh. No, not if you're adamant. I'm just hungry. It makes me unreasonable."
He stifled a laugh. Unreasonable didn't quite cover it, she was a bloody nightmare when she was hungry currently. "And if I said I wasn't sure I cared any longer?"
Her head whipped up to look at him. "Truly? You're not just saying that because you're scared you'll make me cry again? Which will make both Gin and Pansy shout at you."
"I won't deny that the three of you are terrifying. I regret ever forcing you to give Pansy a chance. However I truly do not mind if you want to cast the spell. I assume you know it."
She nodded sheepishly as he grinned. "Go on then."
He watched in fascination as a white nimbus formed over her stomach, splitting into two. One glowing blue, the other pink.
"One of each" she breathed looking at the nimbus' in wonder. "Oh! Oh my God, Theo. We're having one of each!"
He gathered his now sobbing wife into his arms, trying to soothe the raging hormones which he was sure were going to be the death of him. One of each. He wondered for the first time if his children would be Malfoy blonde. He could see a tiny Cassiopeia and Draco Malfoy, hands clasped, in the gardens of Malfoy manor in his mind's eye. He wondered if it was a sight he'd see replicated in his own children. He had to tell her. He had to warn her that her babies may look like her childhood bully. How the fuck was he meant to that? He vowed to owl Harry in the morning and get his advice. The man had a knack for handling his wife, maybe if he was there too, she'd be less inclined to hex him. It was a smart plan. For now though, he intended to just be here, holding her as they both pictured the children that they were desperate to meet. Imagining the changes that were coming.