The morning of June 5, 1998 (but was in actuality, more like the late morning), saw Draco waking up in his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before he stared at his ceiling and remembered that today was his eighteenth birthday.

Sighing softly, he rolled to his side and groaned as the light filtered through his green damask curtains, which he'd failed to close completely the night before. Grabbing his wand and casting a tempus to check the time, he was somewhat surprised to see that it was nearly noon, and his parents hadn't sent Bibi to check on him.

He'd missed breakfast, and their mid-day meal would be starting in about thirty minutes.

The truth was though, that he wasn't very hungry.

After celebrating yesterday with his mates, and coming home sometime around three in the morning, spending the better part of the night at Blaise's house, getting shite-faced on firewhiskey and some Muggle drink called tequila (that Blaise had discovered on a trip to Spain), it was a wonder he could even manage to drag himself out of bed.

His conversation with Adrian which had been quite enlightening, but had also generated an unusual side effect, causing him to forego thinking too hard on what his friend had shared for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, even with being a natural Occlumens, some things just couldn't be packaged neatly away for inspection at a preferred later date and time. He'd rather not known the truth about Potter's dalliances back in school, but the fact that there had been at least one that Adrian had known about, and had never told him, made Draco wonder if there were other things about Potter that he didn't know.

It was a hard potion to swallow, to admit to oneself that much of your own behavior and reactions had stemmed from overwhelming jealousy and inherent pettiness. It had grated on him for years, that Potter had never accepted his offer of friendship first year, but the kicker had been that Potter had not only rejected him, but had decided that Ronald Weasley was a better choice for the role of best mate.

From the summer before he'd started Hogwarts, most of the conversations he'd had with his own Father had been about he Boy Who'd Lived. How Potter was powerful, and how it was his task to befriend the young wizard.

A task he'd failed miserably at…

Just like most of the tasks given him throughout the years.

That one action, had spiraled into the hate-fueled rivalry with Potter, but while Draco didn't doubt that Potter truly disliked him for what he'd perceived as…All Slytherins Are Evil, it didn't change the reality that he'd envied everything the Chosen One was and had.

He'd always been a jealous, selfish git.

Now Draco had something Potter wanted which was Hermione, and for a brief moment, he'd been brought back to first year, except this time he had the prize, and then he didn't.

Because he was linked with Potter and Hermione, and there was no way around that reality.

Deep down, there was another part of him that couldn't help but be intrigued by the idea, even as the larger part of him whined, complained and was adamant that such a travesty couldn't be allowed to occur!

He was always brilliant at lying to himself.

Sighing and rolling out of bed, Draco silently made his way into his ensuite to get ready for lunch as his mind mulled over what he might expect from this evening. Another truth was, he was actually looking forward to spending quality time with Hermione and being seen on her arm, but he was less thrilled about doing so in the Muggle World.

He also had to wonder if his father had managed to figure out that compromise Lord Alphonse had insisted upon.

So it was about twenty minutes later, he found himself walking into the dining room, immediately noticing both of his parents sitting in their usual spots, with his father perusing through what was likely that mornings paper, and his mother smiling softly at him in welcome.

"Happy Birthday, my Dragon."

"Thanks, Mum."

"You got in late last night," Narcissa stated with interest, "did you have a good time with your friends?"

"I did."

Lucius set the paper down, and eyed him with a critical look, before inquiring, "Do you need a sober-up?"

"No, Father—I'm sure I can manage just fine without one."

"That would be a first." Lucius mocked, causing Draco to scoff—while Narcissa just tutted at her husband and inquired, "Isn't there something you'd like to say to our son, Dear?"

"Why? Was I not included in your good wishes?"

Steely blue-grey eyes were focused solely on his father, which caused Draco to smirk slightly at how quickly Lucius could go from appearing supremely haughty and in control, to looking chastened by his own wife.

It never failed to amuse him.

Then he blanched, wondering just how his own dynamic with Hermione would fare once they were married.

Please, he'd never be cowered by a witch!

His smirk widened, which only served to irritate his father further, as silver eyes were now boring down on him.

"So," Draco cleared his throat subtly, but wisely choosing not to make eye contact with his father, "did you manage to find a solution to that problem, Father?"

Lucius scoffed, while Narcissa sighed in resignation, "Your Father is still working on that, Draco. Needless to say, we should have something workable within a week or so."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Lucius drawled out unhappily, "Pierre seems to think this is an easy fix, but it's not. There is no Muggle record of any Malfoy since before the Statute of Secrecy went into effect, and even then, there was minimal contact and only at the highest echelons."

"What, Father? No long lost Muggle titles out there?"

"Salazar, perish the thought!" Lucius groaned out in disgust, "Our ancestors would've never stooped to such a travesty, and I'm not inclined to make something up just to assuage Pierre's overblown sense of appeasement, regardless of his desire to see his family reinstated to some worthless Muggle crown."

"You don't foresee that happening?"

"That I cannot say with all certainty, Draco…but I do know Pierre well enough to know that if he's pursuing this course of action, there's a reason behind it."

"Besides the obvious?"

"Yes, besides that."

"My face is going to be all over the French Muggle Press tomorrow, Father—and as much as I'd like to believe they'll refrain from digging too deeply into my background, if they're anything like Skeeter, then I think it's fairly safe to say that we need to come up with some kind of plausible backstory."

"Yes, Draco—I'm aware. I've spoken with the Minister, and he's working out a solution that I hope will be suitable for everyone."

"And?"

"As far as your schooling is concerned, all that will be reported on is you were home schooled with the finest tutors. Muggles apparently have some kind of testing similar to NEWTS, so I'm sure something can easily be fabricated and placed with the appropriate people, if someone should go looking for it. I'm also looking into buying some property in London, which can be used as an alternative residence if needed. I've even gone so far as asking our goblin liaison at Gringotts to open a Muggle bank account in your name and will be having funds transferred within the week."

"Bloody hell." He mumbled, then grimaced when his mother shook her head at him in silent reprimand.

"You don't sound nearly as resolved by this as you did the other day."

Draco averted his gaze for a moment, before answering evenly, "I'm resolved, Father—because I have to be. Tell me I'm wrong?"

It was several minutes of silence before Lucius replied with, "Unfortunately, Son—you're not. For the record, Miss Alphonse's heritage aside, she would not have been our choice for you."

"I know that, Father."

"But now that I'm aware of certain, shall we say, other realities, I'm certain I would've been even less inclined in having Miss Greengrass as the next Lady Malfoy."

Draco glared at his father, who didn't seem all that perturbed by his less than sympathetic stance on Astoria's likely condition. Gazing over at his mother, it was clear to see she agreed with Lucius position.

"It's all about keeping the bloodline pure with you, isn't it, Father?"

"Stop acting as if that doesn't matter to you as well, Draco. You were raised to understand what it means to be a Malfoy, and despite our lack of standing following the War, there are just some truths that cannot be changed. Purity, magical strength and intellect have always been at the heart of our family line. Malfoy wizard's have only ever had the strongest of witches by their side."

Lucius glanced fondly at his wife, and Draco could see the clear affection there—which despite his irritation with his father's words, he couldn't argue with the sentiment behind them.

Nor with how exceptional his mother was in everything she did.

"Now you're just bragging, Father."

Lucius chuckled, and even Narcissa smiled sweetly at her son's compliment.

"I'm many things, Draco—of which I don't need to spell out in detail, but if there is one choice in all my life that I got right, it was in winning your Mother's hand. I know you and Miss Alphonse have only seen the worst of each other, and now you're getting the chance to see her as you should've done, had Pierre made a different choice."

"Chances are Hermione would've gone to Beauxbatons and we'd have never met."

"That is doubtful, Son. There was a reason for the blood contract, just as there is a reason you both have found yourselves in this together. I will admit, that even when I believed Miss Alphonse's heritage to be of inferior birth, I could not deny her intellect, nor her magical prowess. I've faced her in combat, I've seen her resolve here in our very home. She lied to your Aunt, whilst under the cruciatis, something nigh on impossible to do and not only that—but managed to come out of that situation as unscathed as one could, under the circumstances. You will never be bored with such a witch, and she will challenge you in ways you are only now starting to understand."

"You almost sound as if you admire Hermione."

Lucius scoffed slightly, but then lifted his lips up with a tinge of amusement, before responding with, "I find myself intrigued with her potential, Draco and what that potential might bring for you both and the future of the Malfoy line."

"And we're back to that again."

"As it should be."

Draco didn't know what to say about that, so he simply decided not to do so. Lunch was served and the remaining conversation was minimal. Once done he excused himself to head back upstairs, but his mother stopped him.

"Draco, you'll find a set of Muggle dress robes in your closet for tonight."

He nodded, and then kissed his Mum's cheek in gratitude, hoping against all hope, that he could make it through tonight without wanting to hex someone.

It was several hours later that an alternate version of himself, wearing something completely foreign but surprisingly, quite dapper, was staring back at himself in his cheval mirror. The Muggle suit was a three piece, dark grey, bespoke custom-tailored Merino wool with hand stitching. The fitted shirt was a lighter grey-blue that matched the color of his eyes, and the tie was made from some of the finest silk he'd ever seen, and was a deeper hue of blue. Looking at the inside label on the outer robe, there was a name he'd never heard before—William Westmancott, Savile Row.

But he had to admit…

He looked good.

When he was done perusing his form, he nodded to himself and went to grab his wand when there was a soft knock at his door.

"Come in."

His mother's face peered around the open doorway, and her eyes widened briefly before she smiled genuinely.

"You look very handsome, my Dragon."

"Thanks, Mum—and thank you for this. How did you know?"

"I had your measurements taken from the robes we'd purchased at Madam Malkins and was able to have someone take them to Muggle London a couple weeks ago."

Draco chuckled, and stated with admiration, "You're always are several steps ahead of everyone else, Mum."

"The fate of being a Black."

"Who did you get to do this though?"

"My sister."

Draco blanched in shock, "Really?"

"Actually, Mr. Potter was kind enough to pass on a message for me when he visited that evening with Miss Alphonse. I asked him to deliver a letter for me, after you stormed out of the room, and Hermione followed you. He was most gracious, and offered to plead my case to my sister."

He took a stuttered step back, before sitting down at the edge of his bed utterly speechless.

Potter had helped his Mum reconnect with her estranged sister?

"You seem surprised?"

"Frankly, I'm stunned, but perhaps I shouldn't be? Gryffindors are known for their nobility and self-sacrifice after all."

"True, and Mr. Potter if nothing else, felt he owed me a debt."

"Well, that motivation I can understand."

Narcissa hummed in agreement, before pulling out a small box from her robes and enlarging it—then handing it over.

"What's this?"

"Another gift. Andromeda was also kind enough to share a few suggestions on proper accoutrements for the well dressed young man as far as Muggle fashion, that is. This was her idea."

Draco opened the box and hissed at the stunning timepiece staring back at him.

"Apparently, Muggle's are quite the connoisseur's of finer timepieces, and whilst you do have that old pocket watch, this is called a wristwatch and is more in keeping with the times."

He pulled out the watch, which was made by someone called Patek Philippe, and thankfully, already had the correct time on it. His mother helped him put in on, and he smiled adoringly at her.

"What would I do without you, Mum?"

Oh, Draco—it's I who should be saying that to you. I've never thanked you for protecting me when your Father was left to rot in Azkaban. I hope you know that I never wanted you to get involved with the Dark Lord, and wished more than anything I could've spared you that fate."

He sighed, and nodded. "I know, Mum. It's odd, in that there was a time before he returned, that I had relished in the idea of joining the Dark Lord's ranks. The way Father spoke about him, it made it seem as if it would be the greatest honor of my life to be called into service, but I realized soon after I was marked, what a fallacy it all was. His ideology was never about purity, it was about fear and domination…"

His voice fell away, and he felt his mother sitting down beside him, taking his had within hers and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Being raised a Black, from my earliest memories, all I could remember was being taught by my Father the importance of Toujours Pur…"

"Always Pure."

"Yes, and as much as I love my sister, I had to make a difficult choice when she was blasted off the family tree. My sister, or my family name."

"Was it a hard choice?"

His mum tightened her grip reflexively for a moment, before she responded softly with, "There have been three choices in my life that were quite difficult for me to make. The first one was losing my sister, the second one was facing down your grandfather before you started school, as he wanted you to attend Durmstrang and I forbid it, and the last one was seeing you marked. But, as a counter, there were three choices in my life that were the easiest for me to make."

"Which were?"

"Marrying your Father, going to Severus and begging him to take an unbreakable vow to protect you from your task, should you fail…"

"Mum?!"

"I know, and I should've told you, but Bella was quite irritated I'd gone to him in the first place, and even though she was the bonder, she never fully trusted Severus."

"I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say. He protected you, as I knew he would," she sighed and then finished with, "and the final choice to lie to the Dark Lord about Mr. Potter's demise. It was the easiest choice I've ever made, because nothing in my life is more important to me than your safety and happiness, my Dragon."

Draco stared at his mother in awe. He'd aways known deep down, that he was the most important person in her world, but hearing it in such a way…well, it left him speechless.

"I should let you get to your evening, but do try and remember, darling—to put your best foot forward and be the gentleman I raised you to be."

He bowed his head, taking his mother's subtle chastisement to heart. Whilst she had never come out and expressly reprimanded his actions as a youth, he knew deep down that she wasn't pleased with how he comported himself at Hogwarts. His father had expected a certain demeanor, but his Mum had always shown her worth with how she distanced herself from such behavior. In fact, the only time he'd ever seen her lose her cool, was prior to his sixth year when they were in Madam Malkins and she'd confronted Potter about Sirius Black. Deep down, he'd known she'd mourned her cousin, but she was more upset about father being in Azkaban and what that meant for him, in having to serve the Dark Lord in Lucius absence.

"I'll remember, Mum. I'm sorry, for what it's worth."

"For what?"

"I do know you never expressly approved of how I handled myself in school."

Her belabored sigh spoke volumes, but to her credit she just patted his hand and then stood up, her expression soft and open, "Draco, you're not that same boy anymore, nor do you crave your father's approval as you once did. If nothing else, it warms my heart to see you finally taking these first steps into the man I'd always hoped you could be. Of course, there are some things—some truths—that I will hold sacred, but never at the expense of your happiness. Not again."

He stood up and kissed his mother's cheek affectionately, then murmured, "I know, Mum."

"Good." She smiled then, running her hands down the front of his Muggle suit with an amused smirk, "You do look dashing, and I think Miss Alphonse will be suitably impressed that you've made the effort. Bibi?"

The small elf popped into the room, with a small bouquet of flowers.

Blue Irises.

"Quite fitting."

"I thought so too, and I'm sure Miss Alphonse will appreciate the gesture, yes?"

"I do."

"You should be on your way."

Taking a deep breath, he nodded and took the flowers from Bibi, placing a stasis over them and then followed his mother towards the receiving room. Before he floo'd away, he could see the look of pride in her eyes, giving him that final push he needed making sure to put his best foot forward this evening with Hermione.