Narcissa found her son sitting on his balcony, staring unseeingly out into the evening as the sun set on the horizon. She stood there for a brief moment, taking him in, and it wasn't difficult to see the stress in his shoulders, nor the way his mouth was settled into a deep frown.

"Draco?"

"Come in, Mother."

Narcissa walked out into the fresh air and felt the tingling of a warming charm as she sat down next to her son.

"I feel as if I should apologize."

Draco turned his head and his lips quirked slightly, before the same irritated scowl fell back firmly into place.

"I'm not upset at you, Mum. And as much as I'm loathe to admit it, I do understand that Father's hands are tied. I just never in my wildest imagination, ever thought I'd have to marry Granger."

"You have spoken about the witch quite often, my Dragon."

"Not because I held any affection for her, Mother!" Draco sneered in anger, "But because she's an insufferable chit, who's bested me at every turn."

"And you believed her heritage to be unseemly?"

Draco sighed, and nodded—as there was no point in denying it. He'd called her that word enough to know what it meant, and how he'd felt.

"Fair point." He drawled shortly, and noticed his Mother smiling softly at him.

"Was your heart truly set on Astoria?"

Draco lifted back his head in thought, as he stared out into the heavens that were just starting to show signs of life.

"She was the only one who took the time to try and understand me," he said at last. "She's been a confidante at times, and a friend. I was learning to trust her..."

"And I know that is a hard thing for you."

Draco nodded reluctantly.

"She's unfailingly kind and sweet. And I'd thought, perhaps..."

"So not love yet?"

"No, but I like her," Draco turned tormented grey eyes to his Mother, "I rather liked her quite a bit."

"And you don't like Miss Alphonse?"

"Mum, she punched me third year! She's the bane of my existence!"

"Did you deserve it?"

"What?!"

"Did you deserve it?" Narcissa tutted with a knowing smile.

"What! No! Of course not!"

Watching her son, Narcissa had to admit that she'd never seen him react so passionately about anyone. Not even the Potter boy, and her Dragon had despised the boy...but Narcissa had known that those feelings had stemmed from deep hurt and jealousy over the boy's refusal to accept Draco's offer of friendship their shared first year.

"I think it might be wise of you to try in this one instance, to see if you can find common ground with Miss Alphonse. You both are smart and capable. Tell me? If you had known of her heritage from the first, would you have looked upon her differently?"

Draco bit his lip as he considered the question carefully. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd noticed Granger because of her unparalleled intellect. She was clever, smart and loyal those she cared about. She'd never backed down, not even to his crazy aunt—but that didn't mean he wanted to marry her!

"It's a moot point, Mum. We can't undo years of animosity."

"Perhaps not all at once, that's very true. But time is a great healer, or so I've been told." Narcissa patted his hand in support. "If nothing else, your Father mentioned that the contract states that once heirs for both families are sired, you can take a Mistress of your choosing."

Draco lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. "And can she?"

"Yes she can, so I would be mindful of making that choice, my Dragon. Something tells me that Miss Alphonse will not look too kindly on you should you choose to make a fool of her. And if you're not willing to share her, then perhaps you might make certain not to put yourself, nor her—in a position where that would happen. She is to be the Grand Duchess Alphonse and if rumor is to be believed? The reinstated Queen of France someday. She is as much a War Hero as Mr. Potter is, and will have her choice of consorts should you decide to play that card. If your heart is truly set on Astoria, and she is willing to take on the position as your Mistress—which I sincerely doubt Randolph would approve—but if she was willing—then you should let your sentiments be known to Miss Alphonse before the marriage, so neither one of you have unrealistic expectations going into this union."

"Do you think Granger would really take a lover?" Draco scoffed. "I can't see little Miss Perfect doing such a thing."

Narcissa's tinkling laughter filled the room. "You're naïveté is adorable, my Dragon."

"What do you mean, Mother?"

"Just that Gryffindor's tend to be very passionate individuals. From some of the rumors I've heard about Miss Alphonse, she does have some very Slytherin characteristics, but as a whole—the witch is truly a Gryffindor at heart."

"Granger? Slytherin?" Draco sneered. "Doubtful, Mother?"

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps I will keep my information to myself?"

"Mother?!"

Narcissa's laughter carried again, but she just patted her son's arm playfully.

"Do you truly wish to know?"

"Of course!"

"Hmmm...very well. As you are aware, I went to school with a certain reporter from the Daily Prophet. During your fifth year, you do remember that she didn't write for the Prophet that year, correct?"

"I remember, and I also remember she wrote that horrid article for the Quibbler."

"Did you ever wonder why that was?"

"Not particularly."

"Your lack of curiosity is surprising, but it's no matter. I heard a little rumor that Miss Alphonse blackmailed Miss Skeeter and forced her to take a sabbatical for that year, and then used her advantage to coerce the witch to write that article for the Quibbler."

Draco sat there stunned. Granger blackmailed Skeeter? Shaking his head, he just couldn't believe Miss Goody-Goody would do such a thing.

"No?" His mother smirked. "Then perhaps you might be surprised to learn that Miss Alphonse in your shared second year, stole ingredients from Severus potions storage."

This had Draco sitting up in attention. "To what end? What did she take?"

"Lacewing flies, boomslang skin..."

"Polyjuice." Draco breathed out in awe. "She brewed Polyjuice second year?"

"According to Severus."

"And he didn't punish her?" Draco scoffed. "How did he even find out?"

"That he didn't tell me, but suffice it to say, it was true. He had tangible proof of the perfidy, but chose not to offer reprisal for some unknown reason."

"Salazar!" Draco breathed out in wonder, as he gave his mother a considering look. "What else have you heard?"

"She silenced Antonin in the Department of Mysteries, and then bested him in a duel about a year later."

"I'm sorry?" Draco gaped like a loon. "She bested Dolohov?"

"And obliviated him and Thorfinn afterwards. When the Dark Lord realized what had happened, he was incensed and punished both wizards accordingly."

"Bloody hell!" Draco whispered, ignoring his Mother's scowl at his use of profanity. "How did I not know any of this?"

"Because you've made assumptions in your dislike of Miss Alphonse," Narcissa tutted in amusement, "that made you blind to all else."

"I've never been blind to Granger."

"You still refer to her by that name, however."

"It's her name, isn't it?"

"Her Mother was a Dagworth-Granger so technically, I suppose it is."

Draco was silent for a few moments before he asked lowly, "What do I tell Tori?"

"Be honest with her, my Dragon. If she cares for you, she will understand."

"She does. I just never envisioned hurting her in this way."

"Did you make any promises to her?"

"No, but we did talk about the future from time to time. Mostly before sixth year, but we both wanted the same things."

"Compatibility is important, that is true. Loyalty, affection, trust even more so. Love is a rare find in this world. Even though your Father and I were arranged, I grew to love him deeply. I know it might seem like an impossibility now, but given time and distance? You might actually come to care for Miss Alphonse and she for you."

"She hates me, Mother."

"And do you hate her?"

Draco paused for a moment as he seriously wondered exactly what it was he felt for Granger. He loathed her snottiness and know it all nature...her self-righteousness and do-gooder mentality—her elf rights club in fifth year was a prime example of that—but she was intelligent and not exactly hard on the eyes.

No, he didn't hate her...

But he didn't like her either.

"I don't know what I feel for the witch. I'm not sure it's as strong as hate, but I definitely don't like her either."

"Then all I can ask is for you to try and keep an open mind. See where that takes you both?"

"I suppose I can try." Draco bit out reluctantly.

Narcissa smiled fondly at her son and kissed the top of his head, as she stood to leave his room.

"Dinner will be served in an hour."

Draco nodded as he watched his mother walk away—leaving him to his thoughts, which were all over the place.

Back in France, Hermione was having a similar conversation with her Father, over the same topics.

"So what you're saying is that once I beget an heir for each family, my duty is done and I can take a lover?"

"If you wish it."

"And Malfoy can too?"

"Yes, he can." Pierre sighed, not exactly thrilled with that part of the contract. "A separate contract can be made to ensure fidelity, if you both so wish it."

Hermione bit her lip in contemplation as she considered that caveat. Did she want that option? More importantly, did she want Malfoy to have that option too?

"That's a difficult decision," Hermione admitted at last, "do we need to decide before we marry?"

"Yes. The purity clause forbids either of you from engaging in intercourse with another party prior to marriage."

"And what about kissing and petting?"

"The exact wording is: neither party shall engage in pre-marital intercourse prior to the bonding of marriage vows." Pierre sighed. "Back in the days when the contract was written, I don't think wizard's were particularly concerned with certain sexual parameters such as foreplay, only penetration. However, am I absolutely certain? No."

"I assume this was to make certain neither party gave birth to a bastard?"

"Quite certain."

"Lovely." Hermione's voice was hard. "So a slightly ambiguous purity clause and a consummation clause." She stared off into space for a moment before her face morphed into a wicked grin. "Did the consummation clause specifically mandate intercourse after marriage?"

Pierre steepled his hands as he sat back and shook his head in the negative. "The wording of consummation leading to procreation wasn't specified beyond the terminology. Why? What are you thinking?"

"Well, back then consummation to procreate meant having sex, but today? You don't need to have sex to procreate."

"Aha!" Pierre chuckled deeply at his daughter's elegant work around. "Muggle in vitro would likely work. And the possibility of getting pregnant with twins would be quite high. Mind you, you wouldn't be able to control the gender of the child or children—but it would serve its purpose." He paused and then said in warning, "I'm unsure how the Malfoy family would take to such an option."

"He might be relieved," Hermione said quietly, "in fact, given the choice Malfoy might insist upon it."

"Would you?"

"I don't know how to answer that, Papa. You know my history with Malfoy has never been positive. He's hated me for years and wished me dead. And there is another witch he desires, so I can't imagine he would want to consummate relations anyway. It might be easier and less emotionally taxing, to remain as aloof as necessary. Especially if he desires to take a Mistress."

"I can see the wisdom in that line of thinking, but perhaps a frank discussion might be prudent? The boy may surprise you."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Nonetheless, think about it. I will need to speak with Shacklebolt come the morrow. Owl your friend and have him come and visit. If he has any questions, I would be happy to address them."

"Thank you, Papa. I will do that."

"Good. Now get some rest and I will see you in the morning."

Hermione nodded and she watched as her Father left her room and couldn't help the sigh of frustration that fell, after he was gone.

How in the world was she ever supposed to find common ground with Draco sodding Malfoy?