Author's Note: All disclaimers apply. I do not own the characters contained in this story. They belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Bros. Inc. Also thanks for all of the reviews. They are very inspirational and appreciated! Edited to add credit to Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and her plot from Shanna. This entire disclaimer applies to her work as well.

Thank you very much for the response to this story. I'm happy everyone is enjoying it so much. Every review is cherished.

Chapter 22

Darker Revelations

Whirling on his heels Draco rushed from the study hoping Hermione had gone to change as she said. All past anger had been replaced with cautious optimism and curiosity. Hermione rarely purchased anything on an impulse. If anything she was more watchful with her money than an old miser at times. There was a specific reason for her buying them, and if he was correct then that changed the scope of things drastically.

As he had hoped Hermione was irately stalking through the bedroom mumbling to herself and wiping at her eyes. She slammed the wardrobe door shut and glared defiantly in his direction, sensing his presence. "Was there something you forgot to mention downstairs? I'm not in the mood to fight today so really sit and brood somewhere else."

"Any particular reason you're buying baby booties?" Draco twirled the tiny pink socks around in his hand and held them up for her to see.

Today of all days he had decided to become the normal nosy husband and look through her purchases. Realizing he was waiting for an answer, and smirking as though he'd never been full of rage a few moments ago only made her angrier. "They're for Ginny," Hermione said in rush, and turned around thinking how stupid she was for losing her composure. Taking a deep breath she prepared herself for any further questions. She wasn't about to tell Draco anything right then, especially something that delicate and something she hadn't accustomed herself to yet.

She was lying and he wondered why. Draco pushed the passages in his mother's diary about dreading the day he was born, about his first birthday, and how she simply knew he would become his father one day from his mind. This was at least one place he could not doubt Hermione. She'd made it clear beyond belief that she wanted children but then a sneering voice in his mind betrayed him. She wants children, but not yours. "So, she's beginning the Weasley breeding tradition early then? Ginny's what, barely nineteen isn't she?"
"I suppose she is," Hermione allowed, suddenly becoming very busy with a stack of her journals that sat on the marble table by the windows. "I'd appreciate you not telling Harry though. Oh, wait that isn't really something to worry about is it as the two of you have decided to be mortal enemies until death isn't that right?"

"To not want to fight inserting Potter into the discussion almost assures we'll disagree doesn't it?" Draco was undeniably certain she was lying now and he wasn't sure if he should confront her outright or let her walk away if she truly didn't want his child. No, even if he didn't suspect she was pregnant he still wouldn't let her leave him. If that made him his father's son, then so be it. Selfishly he was going to hold on to her and this child and hopefully make up for the some of the mistakes his father made.

"I'll ask again did you want something?" Hermione snapped, impatiently flipping open her journals and picking up her quill.

"When did it happen?" Obviously today Draco didn't know when to walk away or back down from a confrontation. However, as compulsively as he'd lashed out to hurt her like he was hurting earlier, he desperately wanted to know if his assumptions were correct.

"When did what happen?"

He deserved this, so Draco patiently walked over and sat in the chair across from her. "The baby, when do you suppose it happened?"

"You'd have to ask Ginny although I'm not sure why you'd care when she and Harry are intimate," Hermione replied, eyes skimming intently over the words in front of her but seeing nothing.

"You're a terrible liar. Always have been." He waited for a response and when he didn't receive one he continued. "Then again, I guess I could tell Potter. Wouldn't that be like a peace offering?" Standing up Draco reached inside her robes that were slung over the chair he vacated and grabbed her bag of Floo powder. "Do you want to come too or was the entire afternoon with Mrs. Potter enough for one day?"

"Put that down and stop it. I told you Ginny hasn't said anything to Harry yet so…"

"So someone should. It's not right for a man not to know he's going to be a father," Draco purposefully drawled the last statement, and walked slowly toward the door.

"You would ruin Ginny's surprise out of spite?" Hermione knew defeat was coming and she didn't have the energy to face what the aftermath would be. Rationally she knew that what Draco had read in the diary was the cause of his outburst downstairs, but there was the matter of her dreams that were more than mere illusions it would seem. She couldn't get the thought out of her head that he didn't respect her, or her morals. Remembering how she had begged and moaned so indecently almost made her sick, and she was certain he had to think less of her for it.

"Well I think you should come along. You could give them those booties and congratulate them properly. You keep saying I need to visit and make peace with Potter." Draco heard the softness of her tone and recognized that she was close to giving up. That rarely happened unless she was caught in a lie, and when she finally admitted the truth he could judge her true feelings again by how she explained the situation.

"Give me those," Hermione mumbled reaching out and grabbing the delicate item from his hands. Almost lovingly she caressed the tiny emblem that crawled, and then gently laid the booties on the table. "Can we please drop the subject?"
"No. Poor Potter's languishing in ignorance and you and the She-Weasel are scheming behind his back."

Heaving a drawn out sigh Hermione stood suddenly and glared, her brown eyes dark and sparkling. "The booties are mine now put that Floo powder away and leave me alone."

"Aren't they a little small for you?" She was forgetting about earlier, Draco hoped because she was getting anxious. Hermione never backed down from a fight and Draco knew he hit a nerve when she actually ordered him from their bedroom.

"Not for me you daft prat!" she screamed, having lost what was left of her control. "They're for the baby."

"Potter's and Weaselette's?" This was comfortable again Draco decided. Teasing her came naturally, as did driving her into a temper tantrum. She really needed to learn to let her anger out more and not just dive into her books and research so hastily when things turned for the worse.

"Ours!" Hermione shouted, before slamming her hands down on the table and returning to her journals.

"Oh, is that all?" Draco said, appearing uninterested, but was leaning against the table now right at her side. "Why did you only buy one pair? Don't you suppose they'll need more of those frilly things?"

At Draco's cavalier response Hermione jerked her neck to the side to scowl at him again, thinking she would find a smug and superior smirk. To her surprise he had lost all traces of irritation, and was watching her with a gentle smile. That didn't sway her in the least. "Satisfied? Do you feel better having tricked me into telling you something?"

"No, I would have felt better if you had come out and told me yourself. Was there some reason in particular you didn't want me to know?" Here would be the moment in which Draco could tell for sure if she wanted the child, his child.

"Yes and no. Yes because I wasn't sure if you wanted a baby this soon, and no because I'm slightly terrified, think we're too young, and had hoped to wait a few years. Then, of course, there was your display downstairs, and while we're on the topic of admitting things I know what you must think of me now?" Hermione had starting gazing at her journals again.

"The same thing I always think about you, you're far too stubborn and you think too much," Draco shrugged not knowing what to exactly make of that comment. Hadn't he been the one to incite the argument below?

"I wouldn't normally act like that you know?" she whispered softly.

"Yes you would. I went too far and you lashed out. We really have perfected the technique of bringing out the worst in one another I believe."

Hermione saw him ease closer but ignored him. As usual, Draco had missed the point. "True as that may be that you did go out of your way to be cruel a little bit ago I meant another time. I wouldn't have acted that way normally, except if I was asleep and didn't know any better."

"Why do you think I had to resort to such drastic measures?" It was becoming a little bit clearer to Draco now that she was embarrassed about what had happened months ago at night. "I got away with cornering you once in the cellar and I wasn't so insane that I didn't know you'd hex me, possibly try and make me less of a man so to speak. I was desperate and instead of having to watch you smile and flirt with Percy all day long I wanted you to myself, alone, without having you worrying about what was right or wrong. I took advantage of a situation, and though I was all set to apologize earlier I don't think I will now. I'm not sorry. I'd do it all over again actually and if you get angry enough someday and lock me out of our bedroom I'll do it then too."

Disbelief and possibly a small mixture of fury played across Hermione's face, which was now a deep and beautiful pink, as she blushed at his confession. "First you admit to using devious means to seduce me then you say you're not sorry? Are you that conceited or are you just convinced of your overwhelming charms?"

"You wouldn't have let me near you otherwise and I had no way of knowing if you were only testing the waters with Percy or if you truly wanted nothing to do with me." Did she not see that this entire conversation was killing him? He had gone so far as to be sympathetic with Potter in order to wrench the truth from her, and now Hermione was making him relive the days when Percy was pursuing her and he hadn't been able to do anything to stop him.

"Here I was worrying that you wouldn't have any respect for me for acting like that, but you apparently don't care anything about respect or decency." Hermione shook her head but was inexplicably drawn to turn her chair and herself to face him better. "You didn't burn the diary did you?" Changing the subject was a better tactic. As silly as she was being now actually getting aroused remembering some of her "dreams" and hearing how unapologetic he was she knew she was losing her sanity. Draco deserved a potion that would make him inexplicably sick for days. He deserved a hex that would cause him to walk funny for weeks, or possibly be unable to function in certain capacities. Honestly, Hermione thought she might still have to make him suffer for his git ways.

"No, but I should. She hated it here you know," Draco whispered idly taking Hermione's hand in his but she pulled it back. He sighed, realizing things had gone too far this time and he couldn't expect to be forgiven so easily. "She hated everything about it and I think she was in love with someone else. I knew my parents weren't happy but I didn't know my mother wished that I hadn't even been born."

"You read it wrong," Hermione stated in a rush coming to her feet and staring back him urgently. "She loved you. She had to since she went to Snape and made him vow to protect you."

"She would have left my father if I wasn't born, but after I came she knew he'd never let her go. She called this her prison and wished that she'd never told Lucius about me and had gone to St. Mungo's and fixed her mistake."

This wasn't something Hermione understood, hate or indifference for a child. Her parents had doted on her since birth, and though both she and her parents had become lax in their correspondence over the last year she never had been given cause to doubt their love for her. "Then I hope she's dead," she said, without any remorse. "If that's all she felt was hate and self pity then that's her own fault. She had a child and even if things were difficult for her she should have taken joy in that at least."

Gingerly Draco placed a hand over her stomach. "It's true then. It's not Potter's little Weasel that's going to have a baby."

"Ginny and I did the test three times, and I swear I was careful, but things have a way of catching up with me lately," Hermione chuckled dryly, but after hearing how careless Narcissa Malfoy had been to cast her child off, the love she had for her own daughter grew even more in that instant.

"Of course a Weasley would know before I would," he remarked sarcastically but the bite wasn't really present in his tone. Hermione's outspoken anger at his mother and declaration that a child was a gift, a joy, was enough to help him understand how much she would love any children they have together. "I suppose I should say I'm sorry," he uttered softly and without any preamble. That was all she was getting, no explanations and hopefully she wouldn't push the issue further.

"Yes, you should," Hermione agreed, but let it go at that. She was surprised he had said it at all and though he wasn't remorseful about using Legilimens upon her, she knew he meant his outburst of temper down stairs. "This wasn't exactly planned," she mumbled, nodding towards her stomach and suddenly shy and feeling a little inadequate. There wasn't a night Hermione couldn't remember drinking the potion that Molly Weasley had taught her to brew after she'd been married, even though her husband was supposedly dead. Ginny had told her to keep the recipe. "You never know when the mood will strike you," she said, knowingly. The only time Hermione hadn't taken the time to be cautious was the night Draco had told her the truth about Dumbledore's death. After that she had meticulously taken care of that particular part of her life, except the day of her parents' funeral. When one life ends another begins she mused thoughtfully.

"Don't you find it a bit more satisfying that way?" Draco asked, pulling her into his arms, breathing a small sigh of relief when she came willingly and held him just as tightly. "I think you've done well for yourself as far as letting things work themselves out on their own. Wouldn't it have been rather boring if you'd never seen me again or had settled for a life in that dusty shop with elves biting at your ankles for help all of the time."

"I suppose," Hermione whispered, immensely glad that their quarrel was over and this time they had solved it without more insults and threats. It was an improvement. "I didn't mean it, what I said in the study. I'm not going to leave you."

"Of course you're not," he said confidently but hearing the words was reassuring and the last shreds of misgivings and uncertainties faded. "I'd have your accounts frozen at Gringotts and tie you up in court for years. Now you can claim you don't care how or where you live, but after the small fortune you spent today I know you're enjoying the money a little more than you want anyone to believe. You couldn't last a month now at The Burrow."

At the sound of Draco's arrogance growing in leaps and bounds Hermione playfully pounded the back of his shoulder, and intended to return as good as she got, when an image caught her eye outside of the window. Unable to believe what she was seeing she choked on a small gasp, that to her horror turned into a scream, as the man she had met in passing smiled at her knowingly, and raised a sleek blond brow reminding her so much of her husband. Lucius Malfoy crossed his arms and then threw his head back to laugh sardonically but no sound came from his ghostly lips.

"Hermione, what?" Draco pushed her away and followed her gaze behind him to the window, seeing nothing but the gray mist that always surrounded the manor during the winter months. "What's the matter? What did you see?"
"It had to be my imagination, a trick or something?" Hermione started shaking and hurriedly sat down in the chair at the back of her legs.

"What was it?" Draco left her seated and stared out the window coming closer to look out over the grounds and beyond.

"Your father. He was at the window and he was laughing."

Thankful his back was to her, as Draco couldn't hide his expression of horror, and more frantically he searched below, scanning the area with his eyes thoroughly, but no one was there. It couldn't be. Hermione had seen something, a trick of her imagination just like she said after talking about his family again. However, there was a distinct chill in the air suddenly and Draco had the urge to pay anything, down to his last knut to see the records that told of his father's death and burial. For some reason he didn't think he could put his fears to rest once and for all until he saw the decaying body of the elder Malfoy, and knew he was no longer a threat.

"I told you they were sealed," Neville said again with a heavy sigh. Ron was at his side and was glaring at Malfoy hatefully.

"Name the man who should be approached and find out his price. Everything and everyone can be bought." Draco was enjoying the obvious heated and angry stare from Weasley and couldn't wait for him to jump into one of his temperamental tirades. Weasley had been far too calm lately and he knew the red head was aching to rant at him for taking his Hermione away from the hearth of the Weasley home.

"The Minister's pretty put out with you Malfoy and he's the only one, other than Percy, I can think of that could reopen those files. Neither one of them would make any effort to help you," Neville stated as though Draco should have known the fact. "I thought you were so sure he was dead?"
"I am, but for my peace of mind I want to see with my own eyes," Draco said slowly not sure he could trust both enough to reveal the small incident a couple of weeks prior. Longbottom could remain calm and hold his tongue but Weasley couldn't. Besides he didn't want to truly alienate the Auror after finally convincing him to make another trip to the manor. Though, to Draco's consternation he brought the Weasel in training with him. "Something's eating at you Weasley? Care to enlighten us?"

"Is Hermione home? I'd like to say hello before we leave," Ron said carefully, but still failing to mask his displeasure.

"Yes, but she's upstairs resting and…"

"Then I'll go up and just see if…"

"You bloody well will not," Draco said firmly, throwing a dark glare at Ron. After days of bragging that she didn't have any pregnancy symptoms just that week Hermione had been sicker than even she had thought possible. She had been up since early that morning throwing up and since she was finally getting some rest Draco would hex the first person that dared to wake her.

"You're her husband not her guardian, and if I want to check on her myself I will," Ron said, turning on his heel, but was caught by the shoulder when Neville reached out his arm.

"Hermione's not feeling well Ron. Leave her be like Malfoy says." Neville wondered if Ron knew that Hermione was pregnant and almost decided he did if the death stares he had been hurling at Malfoy since they d Flooed into the study were any indication.

"Yes, Weasley pregnancy tends to be tiring the first few months." Draco had waited to throw that in the Weasel's face since he had stepped in front of his desk. To add an extra flair to his taunting Draco smirked and raised an eyebrow.

For Hermione, Ron had held his tongue, kept his thoughts to himself, and Gods forbid even at times deterred some of Harry's more angry outbursts, but this was too much. "She's just lost her parents, been forced to stay married to you, and what do you do the first chance you get you trick her into a pregnancy. Hermione didn't want children yet. Ginny told me she was practically sick when the tests were positive!"

The satisfaction he had felt faded at Ron's accusations that Hermione was being coerced in anyway and Draco bounded to his feet. "Your little sister should learn to keep her mouth shut or either spread her gossip more accurately. If you want to owl Hermione you can see for yourself that she's happy. I don't have to defend myself to you or anyone else."

"Ron, Hermione's really excited. Ginny told you they went shopping again yesterday afternoon and bought out half a shop," Neville interjected wondering why he felt the urge to try and help Malfoy in this fight. Hermione wouldn't want them fighting, that was why.

"No you don't defend your actions to anyone for any reason. You simply let Death Eaters slip into our school and murder students and the Headmaster, possibly murder Muggles on numerous other occasions, but no lets not expect you to atone for any of it," Ron continued, only warming to the argument. He had been itching to let his true feelings be known and now that Hermione wasn't present he didn't have to watch himself so closely.

"If you can't find anything valuable to spit out of that useless mouth of yours you can leave."

"Not until I see Hermione. For all we know you've got her chained up in a dungeon or starving.."

"Ron," Neville sighed, shaking his head and squeezing the red head's shoulder painfully hoping to entice him to be still.

"Get the fuck out Weasley. Because of Hermione I tolerate you, but if you haven't got any other purpose then leave." Draco wanted to hex the Weasel's tongue out of his head for saying such a thing. The dungeons? What the bloody hell did that family of Weasley's think of him anyways?

"I'll try and see if there's anything that can be done Malfoy," Neville said quickly, pushing Ron toward the fireplace.

"You can't hide her away forever Malfoy," Ron snapped, but even he knew that comment didn't have any basis. Hermione came and went as she pleased, probably more so than before she'd moved to the manor a few weeks earlier.

"Longbottom if possible he's more annoying than you," Draco warned meaning that Neville had a short amount of time before he lost his temper and forgot to be civil for his wife's sake.

Hearing the crackling of the flames and then silence Draco had never been so happy to see guests leave before. Longbottom was becoming a fixture it seemed, and he had to admit that the chubby inept boy from school had slimmed down somewhat and matured into a sensible man. That Weasley git could go to hell and never be seen again.

Trying to take his mind off the suspicions that had plagued him since Hermione had seen the image of his father, Draco poured over the accounts and investments. To his surprise, George and Fred had been right. The possibility of magic carpets being reinstated had elevated the sales for oriental rugs. Well, if the Weasley's had only consisted of the twins, and their parents, then the family would be bearable.

Spending a few more hours signing papers left by his accountants and leaving instructions to divide his money into two different ventures, Draco had almost forgotten about the dark shadow his father's ghost was casting. When Franny came timidly to announce that dinner would be served in an hour he looked up and noticed the time. Hermione had slept the afternoon away and though he was glad she was getting her rest she needed to eat something. Nodding encouragingly at the frightened elf she ran away as though in terror.

No matter how hard he tried, Draco couldn't coax them to quit trembling and shrinking away in fear of him. Admittedly, when he was a child he had treated them horribly, kicking them, and terrifying them for amusement, but even Hermione, who they should have revered for all her work on behalf of their kind, hadn't managed to make much progress. For some reason it seemed as though they were afraid of something that might reach out and punish them for behaving any other way than completely humbled and frightened.

Shaking his head as he closed the study door behind him, Draco watched the elf bounce away at a feverish pace. Deciding that they would come around in their own time he slipped upstairs to his bedroom. Someday he would have his and Hermione's belongings moved to the master bedroom, and his father's either burnt or sold, whichever got rid of the evidence of his existence the easiest. Yet, Draco wasn't ready to make such a drastic change and couldn't imagine sleeping comfortably in the room for some time.

He found Hermione curled up in bed chewing on her bottom lip and frowning deep in thought. She was cross-legged on top of the duvet and had at least three of her journals spread out before her. "I thought you were supposed to be resting?" Draco asked with mild irritation, before sitting beside her and peering at the pages on her lap.

"I tried, but couldn't," she confessed with a long drawn sigh. "Anyway I thought you would be up earlier. I asked you not to let me sleep for very long. It's nearly time for dinner," Hermione accused raising an eyebrow.

"So it is," he said casually taking the quill and journal from her. "I still say you should have tried to get some sleep instead of pour over these research papers again. Just because you've started owling McGonagall again doesn't mean you need to find something new to astound her with daily. I think she'll understand that your life has changed a bit."

Hermione grudgingly let him clear her messy parchments and journals out the way and place them on the nearby table. Honestly, she had tried to sleep, but her mind was too filled with ideas and worries. She loved being able to expound on her theories and essays and to converse with her favorite professor again, but then after the excitement of finding that freedom again came the realization that her life was changing drastically.

She was going to be a mother in a little under eight months and Hermione still had no idea how to begin to prepare. Babies were monumental steps and responsibilities, and already knowing it was a girl meant the challenge was greater. If her daughter was anything like herself she would be opinionated, and if the arguments Hermione and her own mother had resorted to from time to time meant anything things would always be interesting.

"Do you want to change and go downstairs or do you want to eat upstairs tonight?" Draco asked, interrupting her doubtful thoughts.

"Oh, I should get dressed and go to the dining room I guess," she said with a sigh. Looking down at herself she knew she should memorize what her body was now before she stretched and expanded to accommodate her pregnancy. That wasn't her main concern, as she knew Draco was aware that she couldn't remain slim and wouldn't think of her differently. There was the fact again that they were having a daughter. The Malfoy family had always produced male heirs first or only males for that matter.

"Why? If I can get one of the elves to not run from me screaming in terror I'll tell them to serve us up here."

"I'm sorry the baby is a girl," Hermione blurted out, without thinking and sighed at her inability to keep her feelings to herself.

"What does that have to do with not wanting to eat upstairs tonight?" Draco had wondered when she would finally approach that subject. Honestly, he should have wanted a son first. It was tradition, a male heir to succeed the Malfoy throne so to speak. Though, as the days passed and he became more captivated by the idea they were going to have a child, the fact it would be a girl didn't matter as much.

"I know how important it is to you to carry on the family name," Hermione said hating herself for starting this conversation but determined to finish it. "Maybe the next one will be a boy."

"Well, I'm glad you're considering giving me another chance to father your children, but lets just be happy with a healthy baby instead of worrying if it's a boy or a girl." She really did worry herself too much about the small things. Draco could truthfully say he was pleased with the idea of a daughter. He could spoil her mercilessly and treat her like a princess. Basically he could give her everything he hadn't been as a child. Material things were wonderful, he still and would always purchase only the finest robes and food, but love and affection from a parent was central to a child's life.

Disbelieving at first Hermione raised her eyes and found him to seriously mean what he was saying. "But all of your family traditions, not that I really think they're all that sane, but they're important to you and …"

"I think we can safely say I went against the majority of those traditions by marrying you and doing so practically from a prison cell," he drawled before standing. "Now don't take offense and start a war about your heritage again. We've been through that subject to death and we need to put it to rest. We're happy that's all that should matter."

At that Hermione grimaced and turned her head to the side curiously. "Are you sure you're the same man I married over a year ago? Did I just hear you say heritage didn't matter and to be happy and not think about anything else?"

"Going to complain that I'm not always going to be brooding and difficult? Most wives would like their husbands to be so charming?"

There was an insistent tapping at the bedroom window and Draco walked over to allow Neville's owl entrance. The molting creature dropped the scroll in Draco's hand and flew away, feathers floating all over the carpet and windowsill. "Longbottom should really get another owl. The mangy thing looks like it's near its death," Draco muttered under his breath, but unrolled the paper.

Malfoy,

The file that contained your father's records and place of burial has been conveniently misplaced. However, there were two Aurors that no long work for the Ministry interested in helping, for a small fee of course. I told them money was no object, and on my word that you make good your offer, they gave me the location of your father's grave.

This afternoon after sharing some suspicions with Scrimgeour himself I quietly asked the grounds keepers near Azkaban to unearth the area and a coffin was found. Malfoy, I'm not certain how best to explain this except, the coffin was empty. Your father's body was either moved or never placed in the coffin to begin with.

I will be at the manor tomorrow morning. Do not let Hermione out of your sight or turn your own back. I'm not certain your father is alive, but someone must want you to believe that he is. Take no chances.

Longbottom

"What did Neville want?" Hermione wondered, scooting out of bed and walking to stand at Draco's side.

"Pack some things, mine too," Draco said in a rush, tossing the note into the fireplace and grabbing a bag of Floo powder they always kept on the mantle.

"Draco, what? Did Neville find something out? Are the Du Marier's bothering Scrimgeour?"

"Just get some things together," Draco ordered harshly. "We're leaving, tonight."

"You've got to tell me what's happening. Where are we going?" Hermione said growing panicked. Pack things? Had the Ministry decided to arrest her or Draco for something?

"The last place anyone would look for a Malfoy, The Burrow."