Once I'd changed into more comfortable clothing, I readied myself for another journey into the Pensieve. I knew this one would try my patience; I'd be watching as my father threatened Hermione.

Before I'd left her house on Monday night, she'd given me several charmed purple vials so I'd be able to differentiate her memories from my own easily. I picked them up, looking at the numbers on them and selecting the first out of five.

Pouring it into the basin of the Pensieve, I saw Diagon Alley. The light was fading, making it look like evening, and I sighed.

As much as I knew I had to see this, I didn't want to. I knew what my father was capable of; I'd seen him threaten and torture people all throughout the war with seemingly no remorse.

But to see Hermione back in that position?

Watching my family hurt her once had been enough, and now I would have to endure it again.

I touched the surface of her memory, finding myself standing beside her as she rifled through imported fruits at a small market shop in Diagon Alley. She looked miserable, and I had to remind myself that this was before she'd even Obliviated me. Her hair was hastily tied up in a knot on top of her head and she was wrapped in an old Gryffindor jumper, even though I knew it was August. Her cheek looked sunken in and then I realised it was moving; she was anxiously chewing it.

Giving up on her grocery shopping, she wandered aimlessly down the alley, eventually reaching the more sparsely populated end. When she paused to look around, my father appeared and grabbed her arm, guiding her off to the side. Her mouth opened in a scream, but it was obvious that he'd hit her with a Silencing Charm.

"I am not going to hurt you," he said, leaning close to nearly whisper into her ear. "We need to have a conversation. I am going to take you somewhere more private."

Her eyes were shocked and wide but that was her only reaction. She didn't struggle or fight.

And then the memory went black for a moment as they Apparated and rematerialised at a place I'd never seen before. A small, dilapidated cabin stood in the middle of a clearing, trees shrouding the circular area.

As soon as their feet touched the ground, Hermione jerked away from my father's grasp, putting distance between them and drawing her wand. She pointed it straight at him and then gestured to her throat with her free hand.

With a wave of his walking stick, my father cancelled the charm and Hermione immediately started shouting.

"Was that really necessary? You couldn't have sent an owl?"

He shrugged as if abducting a witch from Diagon Alley was something he did to pass the time on Sunday afternoons. "I didn't trust that you'd come on your own."

"What do you want, Mr Malfoy?" she spat, getting straight to the point.

"Oh, I think we've been acquainted for long enough that you can call me Lucius," he drawled, removing his dragon leather gloves from his hands one at a time. "Don't you?"

He was certainly dressed to look like the Lucius Malfoy of old — long, black flowing robes, hair neatly tied back in a low ponytail, walking stick and expensive black boots.

"What do you want, Mr Malfoy?" she repeated.

"Well, Hermione, I've been looking for an opportunity to speak to you for quite some time now. I believe you've been well acquainted with my son as of late?"

I watched as the colour drained from her face.

"We work together, yes—"

"Don't bother lying to me about the nature of your relationship," my father snarled. "Do you really think I'd risk violating restrictions I've had on me since the end of the war by taking you from Diagon Alley if I wasn't already certain?"

She took a few steps back, putting more distance between them. Her fight or flight instincts were clearly kicking in and my father realised it.

"You do know his wife is pregnant, right? And yet you continue to make yourself available to him?"

Finding her inner courage, she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "I have made myself significantly less available to him lately. Don't you think this is a conversation you should be having with him?"

Lucius shook his head and laughed. "Young men — they get scared when the responsibilities of parenthood start looming over them. No doubt that's what this little dalliance has been about. He and Astoria had been trying to conceive and he was frightened."

And then Hermione laughed. "I'm sure that's what it was. Not the outdated custom of an arranged marriage to a woman that he doesn't care about."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "And you think he cares about you? The woman who he doesn't even bother to stay the night with? Does he not leave you for her every single night since he received the news, Ms Granger?"

I saw a flicker of doubt in Hermione's eyes, but she held her ground.

My father continued. "I gave Draco plenty of chances to get out of that contract before he married Astoria. We postponed and delayed for years before it finally came to fruition."

"What is this conversation about?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowing.

"I think it's time for this illicit affair to end. You and Draco have both had your fun."

"And again, Mr Malfoy, I'll tell you to have this conversation with your son."

Gesturing to the cabin, my father said, "Let's step inside."

"How thick do you think I am?" she replied exasperatedly. "I'm not moving into close quarters with you!"

He smirked. "If I wanted you dead, I would've taken you to the Manor. It's much more secure than this shack in the woods."

Hermione spun on her heel, trying to Disapparate, but it was clear my father had warded against it.

"Let me go."

"Not until you listen to what I have to say," he countered, gesturing towards the door. "You can even take my wand. I'm not here to harm you."

"Whatever it is you have to say, you should say it to your son."

"Ah, but you're the far more rational one. Draco is ruled by his emotions and desires, not logic. It's my own fault, really. I spoiled him, and he still behaves like—"

"You don't know him at all," Hermione interrupted, coming to my defence in spite of the circumstances.

"I know enough to know that you're more likely to make the right decision and end this silly tryst, especially with the right... motivation. As I said, my son is just scared right now."

Of course, he was right on that count. I never would've willingly given Hermione up.

She bit her lip, holding back whatever retort she had wanted to throw at him.

"So, shall we talk? Or do you want to continue bickering and wasting both of our time? You're not leaving without hearing my proposition."

Taking a few steps towards the cabin, she held her wand on him and snarled, "Expelliarmus!" My father's wand flew out of his walking stick and into her hand. "You get five minutes. And I don't want your money."

He laughed again. "Oh, Ms Granger, I know someone as noble as yourself wouldn't be put off by something as trivial as gold. My motivational strategy for you is a little different."

As he turned and swept through the doorway, Hermione followed him, her wand and my father's walking stick clutched in her hand and trained on his back.

The inside of the cabin was as ostentatious as any dwelling my father owned. The ample space was filled with fine furnishings and creature comforts — all the trappings of wealth — and Hermione looked momentarily awed.

He gestured for her to take a seat at a dining table that could easily hold twelve people.

"This cabin has been in the family for ages," he said casually, sitting down across from her. "Dare I ask if you'd like a drink?"

She stayed silent, glaring at him.

"Straight to business, then. I shouldn't have expected anything less." He straightened some papers on the table, and I wondered what they were. "Now, Astoria tells me that you and Draco have been carrying on for quite some time. She's certain that things won't come to a natural end between the two of you since the pregnancy announcement didn't seem to phase you." Clicking his tongue in distaste, he continued. "I discovered something rather interesting about you, though. You're quite familiar with Memory Charms, yes?"

I didn't think it was possible for Hermione to look any paler than she already did, but somehow more colour drained from her face.

"Ah, based on your expression alone, it seems the rumours are true. You Obliviated your own parents, did you not?"

"What is the point of this?" she hissed. "Everyone knows that I Obliviated my parents. The Prophet ran a full article on it years ago."

Lucius shook his head. "No need to get snippy. I was just thinking you could put your considerable skill to use again. Surely it would be easy for you to make Draco forget everything that happened between the two of you."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione shook her head. "I won't do it again. I promised myself that I would never—"

"Ah, but like I said... motivation." As soon as she looked at him again, Lucius smiled. "Have you been to Australia recently, Ms Granger? I hear it's quite temperate in the winter months."

Shock overtook her features once more. "How—"

"How I know doesn't matter," he interrupted. "The fact of the matter is that I do know exactly where they are. And I travel an awful lot for business. Narcissa wouldn't miss me if I had to visit my Sydney office for a few days."

Even though I shouldn't have been, I was shocked by the cold expression on my father's face. While he was staring across the table at Hermione, he actually looked like he wanted to kill her family. His eyes were dark grey and dangerous, his jaw set in a hard line.

"You'd be sent back to Azkaban before you could even say Avada Kedavra," Hermione spat. "You care too much about your own freedom to actually go through with something like that."

He laughed, the dark sound reverberating off the walls of the cabin. He sounded more unhinged than I'd heard him in years. "There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep my family together, Ms Granger. When Draco married Astoria, he made vows. Since the two of you have decided to flaunt your disrespect for the sanctity of marriage—"

Hermione scoffed. "Don't you mean we've disrespected the outdated pureblood tradition of arranged marriage?"

"Arranged or not, they are still married, are they not? Draco agreed to the match. He had every opportunity to get out of it."

I could see the doubt taking root in her mind, and I hated myself even more. I could remember the months or, fuck, even the years before I'd married Astoria. I'd simply existed in her orbit, too fucking cowardly to ever approach her, even when she was more than welcoming to me when I joined the department. In my mind, I could see Blaise urging me towards her, getting frustrated with me when I constantly told him I couldn't.

Had he been in love with her then, too?

But what my father had said was unfortunately true — I'd had every opportunity to get out of the marriage contract, and I'd simply went along with it. Not only did I think I'd never have a chance with Hermione, but I was still afraid of losing my family. Not for the wealth or prestige but simply because I'd never dealt with the trauma from the war. After years of being afraid of losing them, it was part of who I was. Despite my father's actions, I'd found a way to forgive him and I'd been relieved that he'd survived the battle and avoided Azkaban. And everything I'd done during the war had been to protect my mother.

Twisting her hands in her lap, Hermione met my father's eyes. "I think you and I both know why he went along with it, Mr Malfoy."

Her false bravado was admirable, but my father saw right through it.

"Regardless of why he got married," he began, his voice much stronger than hers had been, "he is still married. And he's expecting a child. It's time for all of this to end."

Hermione made to interrupt him, but he silenced her again.

"Listen to me, Ms Granger. It's all very simple. You will modify Draco's memory and make him forget that he ever had this silly little dalliance with you or I will be forced to take action. Like I said, I can easily go to Australia on business for a few days, pay your parents a visit—"

With watering eyes, she slammed her hands down on the table, breaking through his enchantment, and said, "Leave them out of this! They don't even know I exist."

"Exactly. That's what I want for Draco, and I don't know anyone better for the job."

"You do understand that I permanently damaged my parents' minds, right?" Hermione answered, dashing her tears away. "On top of not remembering me, they also can't—"

Lucius held up a hand, silencing her. "I don't care about your Muggle parents and what their deficits are."

I could feel the anger starting to rise inside of me. My father didn't care about me or that he was hurting Hermione or anyone but himself. It was like watching him during the war; he was willing to sacrifice anything to get what he wanted. And he'd spat the word Muggle the way he'd used to in my youth, like it was the filthiest word in existence.

"But I love him," Hermione admitted, unable to look at him.

"That's very sweet," my father mocked. "It's really too bad that he doesn't feel the same about you. I mean, if he did, wouldn't he have left Astoria by now?"

His words hit Hermione like a physical blow, reopening the wounds I'd already given her with my careless inaction. I waited for her to speak, hoping that she'd fight him and tell him that I did love her, that we were soulmates. But she didn't.

And, the more I thought about it, why should she have? Why should she have fought for me when I hadn't truly fought for her?

Eventually, she looked up at him, and I could see the defeat in her eyes. Her face was frozen in the same expression it had been so many times in the office, her Occlumency shields firmly in place. My father seemed to realise that something in her had shifted, as well.

"If I do this," Hermione began, her voice even, "you will not go near my parents. Ever."

"I'll make an Unbreakable Vow with you, if you require it," he replied, levelling her with his gaze.

"I need time," she stated. "I've been doing research on Memory Charms, and I think there's a better way. One that won't hurt him."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "Have you now?"

"I have. And no, I won't tell you what I've been doing. I have to try to put it into practise first. I won't use it on Draco if it's not safe."

Deep down, I couldn't stand the way she was talking about removing my memories. She'd switched from emotional to cold and clinical, like I was a test subject and not the man she loved. Even though I knew she'd simply had to do this to get out of this cabin unharmed, it still hurt to watch.

"No, I wouldn't want an experimental charm used on my son, either." He leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers in front of his face, leaning forward and resting his chin on them. "When do you think you'll feel confident in this new way you've devised?"

"Will you give me until October? Draco and I have a trip planned in mid-September, and I'd like to use that as a goodbye."

I wanted to believe that she was trying to buy time to move her parents, to fight for me, but I already knew she hadn't. No, she'd blocked herself off emotionally and gone through with the plan that was forming inside of her beautiful little head right then and there, prompted by my father's threats.

"I think October would be fine. That would give him time to get acclimated before the baby arrives," he agreed. "But, Ms Granger, if I so much as think you're using this time to get Potter and the Aurors involved, I will get my hands on an untraceable Portkey. Do not test me. You won't like what happens."

This statement did nothing to change her demeanour. Her psyche was barricaded behind her shields, hiding from my father's threats.

"I'm well aware of what you've done in the past," she stated flatly. "Besides, Harry doesn't know about our relationship. I haven't told him."

"Interesting. You claim to love my son, but yet you keep him your dirty little secret?"

She let his taunt go. "Can I continue my day now? I've agreed to do what you want."

"Do we require an Unbreakable Vow?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "I thought you'd want to ensure your parents' safety."

"An Unbreakable Vow would require a binder, and I don't trust anyone you know to do it properly."

"You choose someone, then."

Hermione shook her head. "No. Not today. The wording would have to be perfect. I'm not risking it."

My father looked suitably impressed. He'd likely expected her to jump into the vow immediately.

"You can reach me by owl. I expect to hear from you at least once every other week," he said as he rose from the table. "And do try to discourage Draco from his visits to your house in the meantime. I wouldn't want you to end up in, let's say, the family way."

Clenching her jaw, Hermione said, "I've been discouraging him for the past two months. Like I said, you should be talking to him about all of this."

I thought I saw a flicker of something behind my father's eyes — they were just like mine, after all — but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Well, you could certainly make yourself less available to him. Spend time with your friends. Go on a date—"

"I've listened to you and agreed to do what you want me to. Can you just let me go?" she snapped, her emotions flaring up and breaking through. "I don't want to go on a date. I don't want to spend time around Harry and Ron because they'll know there's something wrong, and you've made it perfectly clear that I cannot tell anyone!"

And I knew that she was protecting herself; at that time, she really hadn't been close with Potter and Weasley. Their friendships had been repaired after she'd Obliviated me.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "If you'll hand me my wand, I'll lift the wards so you can leave." Hermione reluctantly handed the walking stick to him, keeping hers trained on his chest. With a few complex movements, he dropped the Anti-Apparition ward and said, "You're free to go."

Unable to trust him, Hermione carefully backed herself towards the door.

"I'm not so cowardly that I'd hex you from behind."

"And I'm not stupid. There are plenty of curses or hexes that can interfere with my everyday life, even if I don't feel them when they hit me. I know you're experienced with the Imperius Curse."

Lucius rolled his eyes, and then I remembered something.

After the war, the Ministry had put a trace on my father. It hadn't be publicised, but it was lifelong. If he ever cast another Unforgivable Curse, he'd immediately be sent to Azkaban.

Was it possible she didn't know? She worked in the DMLE and definitely had full access to his file.

Of course, there were plenty of ways to kill and torture without an Unforgivable, and I figured those were the kinds of things in Hermione's mind. As soon as she was out the door, her breaths started coming quicker and she quickly turned on her heel, Disapparating.

I expected to be thrown from the Pensieve, but the memory resumed. We landed in her sitting room and she nearly collapsed on the hearth, her tears coming freely now that the adrenaline had left her system. Summoning her Floo Powder, she tossed some into the grate to make a call, and I found myself in another sitting room.

"Blaise!" Hermione shouted hysterically. "Blaise, are you here?"

Most of the flat was blurry or in shadow, her memory of this particular moment unclear. The area immediately in front of the fireplace was bright and clear, though.

"Hermione?" he called out, coming out of the bedroom half-dressed. He was in boxers and shrugging a t-shirt over his head. "What's going on?"

"I n-need to talk to someone," she began, her voice breaking. "C-Can I come through?"

Blaise glanced over his shoulder, looking back to the door he'd entered through, but I couldn't see what he was looking for. "I'm not alone right now," he said sheepishly. "Give me ten minutes—"

Inside my head, I put the pieces together. He'd come from that room mostly undressed and he wasn't alone. He likely had a woman in his bed, and I wondered if he'd jumped away mid-shag to speak to Hermione.

It was clear she understood his meaning, too. "Oh, Gods, no! Nevermind!"

"If you're not here in ten minutes, I'll come to yours—"

"Blaise, I'm serious, I'll sort myself out," she interrupted.

He sighed. "Hermione, I meant it. Give me ten minutes to take care of something and then Floo over. It's completely fine."

Her eyes were still wide and shining with tears, and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear them without the use of her hands. With a curt nod, she pulled back and stayed kneeling on the hearth in her own sitting room. Glancing at her watch, she took in the time so she'd know when it was safe for her to Floo over to Blaise's.

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed in earnest, her body shaking with emotion. Even though I knew I couldn't, I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to be there in all the ways I hadn't been when it really counted. I felt a soul-deep need to make it all up to her.

If present Hermione had been here with me, I would've taken her into my arms and apologised over and over, holding her close and making sure that all her fractured pieces stayed intact. As much as I wanted to hold her and feel that connection, I was glad that she wasn't here to see all of this again; she'd suffered enough the first time around.

After five minutes, she rose to her feet and wiped her eyes, her fingers pressing into them more forcefully than necessary. Her shoulders were still slumped and her pain was palpable, even though this was merely a memory.

Stepping back into the Floo, she landed in Blaise's flat and he was waiting for her, his arms wide open. She moved straight into them and buried her face against his chest.

"What's going on, Hermione? Is this because he's in Paris with Astoria?" Blaise asked, one hand cradling her head and the other stroking up and down her spine.

She sucked in a gasping breath, her lungs desperate for air. "Lucius. It was L-Lucius."

His face hardened but he held her tighter. Protectively. Possessively.

"What about Lucius?"

Hermione pulled back the slightest amount and he reluctantly let her go. "He knows."

Blaise's eyes widened. "How?"

"I'm not s-sure," she managed, wiping at her eyes again. "B-But he grabbed me in Diagon Alley. T-Took me to some c-cabin—"

His eyes roamed over her, visually checking her for any injuries. "He did what?! Are you okay?"

She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, and I felt the same constriction in my throat, my body mirroring hers.

"He didn't hurt me. And this is all unofficial. You're not an Auror right now." When he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head and continued. "He wants me to Obliviate Draco. Make him f-forget we ever h-happened."

And then she dissolved into tears again.

Blaise moved in quickly, taking her into his arms again and smoothing one hand over her curls.

"You don't need to do that," he said, trying to calm her. "Really, Hermione, it's just Lucius being Lucius—"

"He threatened my p-parents," she sobbed. "H-He knows they're in Australia."

Though he continued to hold her, Blaise looked up at the ceiling, biting his lip to keep from saying whatever it was he wanted to say.

"And he t-told me I c-can't get the Aurors involved or tell H-Harry or D-Draco. I didn't know who else..."

"Of course, Tesoro," he murmured. "I'm glad you came to me. We'll figure this out."

They stayed like that for what felt like forever — Hermione crying, her face buried against his chest, Blaise looking upwards and running his hands over her back, her hair, her shoulders. And I was irrationally jealous that he'd been there for her in her time of need.

Finally, she pulled back again and her eyes were red and swollen, her face a blotchy mess. Blaise looked down at her, his dark eyes still devouring her like they had in every other memory I'd seen with him in it.

"I think I have to do it," Hermione said quietly. "I think I have to Obliviate him."

Blaise didn't respond; he just kept his hands on her upper arms.

"I have to protect my parents, and Lucius is partially right — Astoria is pregnant. He needs to be there for his son or daughter."

He nodded in understanding.

Hermione took a deep breath. "It's for the best. That way, he won't know what he's missing."

"But what about you? You'll lose him forever—"

"He's married to her, Blaise. He was never mine to lose. Not really." Her hands moved to his forearms. "I need you to help me find a way. Please."

Looking deep into her eyes, he slowly nodded again. "I will."

And with that admission, I was thrown from the Pensieve, my stomach churning. I felt like I was going to be sick all over the floor.

My father, my wife, my best mate, and the woman I loved — they had all played a part in the final result. I'd known this, but seeing the events that led to it, the way that Hermione and Blaise agreed without seeking another solution... It twisted the knife again.

Rationally, I knew I'd already been angry and burned myself out, but it rose up inside of me again — especially when it came to how my father had treated Hermione. He'd acted all polite and proper while threatening her, as if it were something he did every single day. He'd instilled feelings of doubt inside of her — or preyed on what he suspected she was already feeling.

Through my inaction, I'd made this all possible. I'd never approached my father and told him I wanted to end the marriage. I'd never been honest with Astoria, either. And, when it came down to it, I didn't do enough to give Hermione faith in our relationship. I'd kept her a secret even though I'd wanted to shout my feelings for her at the top of my lungs.

After years of telling me to man up and be honest with Hermione, Blaise had given up on me, too. He hadn't fought for me when she said she was going to Obliviate me, not the way he would've before the affair started. I wondered when things had shifted between us. I'd had a flash of memory from early on in the affair, but I knew I was likely missing hundreds of conversations.

How would I get it all back? And more importantly, when would I get it all back?

Feeling frustrated, I carded my hands through my hair and started pacing the length of my bedroom, silently begging my brain to make connections. I knew enough now. I knew about the affair and had a basic timeline in my mind.

Why wasn't I catching glimpses of other conversations the way I had before?

I needed to shout at someone, to blame someone other than myself for what had happened. Blaise was gone, fucked off to Italy or wherever else. If I shouted at Astoria, she might collapse, and I didn't want Scorpius to witness my anger. And Hermione — she didn't deserve it, not after how much of my anger she'd stoically taken at the beginning of all this. On top of that, she'd acted out of fear and desperation.

There was one person I had access to and deserved all of the ire I could ever throw his way.

Without a second thought, I went back to the ground level and tossed Floo Powder into the grate, calling out, "Malfoy Manor!"

As soon as I stepped through the Floo, I started marching towards my father's study. I honestly hoped my mother was in another wing; I didn't think I could stomach her coming to his defence.

The sounds of the old magical phonograph travelled down the hallway, and I knew he was likely reading through contracts or pouring over Gringotts statements. Barging into the room, I was surprised to see him sitting in a chair, simply staring into the fire.

"We need to talk," I stated, startling him.

He looked over at me. "Draco. I'm assuming by the look on your face that this isn't going to be a friendly visit."

"I saw what you did, how you took her from Diagon Alley and threatened her."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said, "Of course she showed you that."

"Don't blame her for giving me the whole story," I bit back, moving closer. "You were the one who decided it was a good idea to threaten her—"

"We've been through this already, have we not?"

His interruption infuriated me more.

"Why? Why couldn't you just leave it alone?"

"Because you were carrying on with her while your wife was pregnant. It was wrong—"

"So, like Hermione said, you should've spoken to me."

My father rose, shaking his head. "And do you think you would've been honest with me?"

"What the fuck does that matter?" I snapped. "You just, what, decided to revert to your old ways? Become a Death Eater again?"

"You know very well that I wouldn't have harmed—"

"But she didn't! She didn't know that! How could she, after the things you've done to her and her friends?"

He tried to interrupt me. "Draco—"

"What choice did you leave her, Father? Was she supposed to somehow magically know that your specialty has always been making idle threats to get what you want?" I was seething and the words I'd somehow managed to hold back just kept pouring out of me. "She was at the Quidditch World Cup when you and your friends tortured those Muggles, and then when they were brought here during the war, you would've let Bellatrix kill her!"

Although I could see the shame written across his features, I felt no sympathy for him. In fact, I felt little more than disgust.

"For years, it seemed like you'd changed," I continued, glaring at him. "And then when you had the opportunity to really show that you had, you reverted to the old ways."

He walked over to the decanter of firewhisky in the corner of the room, pouring himself a glass. "What do you mean, Draco?"

"When Astoria came to you about Hermione, you could've talked to me."

"You've already said that tonight."

I walked over to the mantle and braced my hands on it, looking down at my feet as I tried to calm my racing heart. I knew I'd already said it, but I had to get my point across.

"You could've spoken to me," I reiterated, turning to face him again. "You could've asked me how long it had been going on and why and been a normal fucking father who showed concern. Most parents wouldn't jump straight to memory modification. I know I sure as hell wouldn't."

"What would you like me to do now?" he asked, throwing the whisky back. "Get a Time-Turner? Go back to the moment where your pregnant wife came to me and tell her that she should sort it out on her own?" Taking a few steps towards me, he slammed the glass down on a side table. "I've already admitted I was wrong. Other than going back in time, there is no way for me to change it. And, let me tell you, you'd be worse off if I did."

I looked at him sceptically.

"I may not know for certain, but if the world you shared with Ms Granger was filled with unicorns and sunshine, I don't think she would've been willing to Obliviate you. Not without a fight or proof that I was serious about her parents."

He was right. He was so fucking right, but I didn't want to admit that now. I was too angry, and he didn't deserve my forgiveness. Not after everything he'd done. I jumped to another topic.

"And then, when I started to remember things, you went to the Ministry and got her to help cover it all up. Did you threaten her then?"

He shook his head. "I didn't. She told me to figure it out, and I did. She didn't want to keep covering things up."

"But she helped anyway. She gave you a copy of the necklace and she stopped wearing the perfume."

He rolled his eyes. "Because I told her what triggered you and what you were looking for. She didn't want to go through this whole ordeal of having to admit what we'd done! Don't you remember the way you treated her when you first found out? The things you said? Do you really think she didn't imagine all those things happening if you found out?"

"You had the perfect opportunity to tell me then," I snapped. "Instead, you just deceived me all over again."

"I realise that, Draco!" he yelled, losing his temper. "We've discussed how this is all my fault more than once. I'm willing to take all of the blame, but I won't have the same conversations over and over again!"

My mother rushed into the room, her eyes darting between us.

"Leave us, Narcissa."

"I won't—"

"Mother, it's fine. I'm leaving. I shouldn't have come here."

"Draco," she said, moving towards me. "What's happened? Is it Hermione?"

I scoffed. "Ask him."

She grabbed my arm. "I'm asking you, Draco. What is going on?"

It had been a mistake to come over here. I should've watched more of the memories and talked to Hermione before confronting my father. I should've known the whole story. Instead, I acted rashly.

"He's come to rage at me. Let him get it out," my father said, drawing her attention. "He's upset that I threatened her and then kept up the ruse when he remembered her perfume."

Her eyes bounced back to me, looking for confirmation. Or at least I thought they were.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I should've told you that day. I just didn't know how to without losing you." She pulled on my arm and led me to one of the armchairs, gesturing for me to sit down. I shook my head, refusing. "It seems like everyone in this family is doomed to repeat their mistakes over and over again."

"What are you on about?" I asked petulantly.

She glanced at my father. "He still thinks threatening people is the best way to get what he wants. When I see something happening — something terrible — I just stand idly by. I didn't protect you the way I should've. And we both lie to bury the problems."

"Narcissa, I told you to stay out of it," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Let Draco say what he came here to say. I can take it."

She crossed her arms under her chest. "I will not stay out of it. You two can never communicate on your own!"

"There's nothing more to say, Mother. I was angry."

"You have every right to be angry," she said, placating me. "You and your father—"

"I'm right here," he interrupted, his voice sullen.

Her head snapped around, her eyes landing on him. "I'm well aware, but I wasn't speaking to you." Looking back to me, she continued, "You two haven't really had a proper conversation about all of this yet."

"And tonight isn't the night for it."

Lips parted to speak, my mother laid a hand on my arm. I shook my head, signalling that she should stay quiet.

"I don't want to hear you defend him or, fuck, even him defend himself. There is no possible defence for the things he's done this time. My affair wasn't putting anyone at risk," I stated, my frustration clear. "He is the one who decided that it would be better to threaten the woman I loved — regardless of whether or not he knew my feelings towards her — than to have a conversation with me."

Tears welled in her eyes, but I didn't let the emotions stop me. And my father's apparent indifference continued to spur me on.

"And I don't care if you forgive him. I know what it's like to feel that pull towards your soulmate, even when you're so angry with them that it makes you feel sick to your stomach. But I can't forgive him or try to move past this right now. I just can't."

"I've never expected you to," my father said, drawing my attention. "Why do you think I kept trying to hide it, Draco? I knew you'd never forgive me for it if you found out."

"And yet you did it anyway," I snarled. "Glad to see that a relationship with me was so important to you."

"I did it in hopes that our family would remain intact!" he shouted. "If you'd divorced Astoria and ran off with the Granger girl, you would've been lost to us—"

"I wouldn't have," I interrupted. "But I am lost to you now."

"What does that mean?" my mother asked nervously, looking between us. Her hands were visibly shaking and she did nothing to hide it. "Will we not see you?"

I softened slightly. "I'm not that cold, Mother. I still want you in my life, and I will tolerate him. I'll continue to allow you time with Scorpius, as long as you're together. But, if Hermione will have me, I won't ever force her to see the two of you. And it will be up to her, should we have children of our own, if you will be allowed to see them or not."

"Thank you," my father said, surprising me, "for not punishing your mother for my actions. I will do whatever I can to repair things with you."

Holding up a hand, I replied, "I don't want to discuss that right now. I need to get myself in order, for Scorpius' sake."

"We understand, Draco." Laying a hand on my arm, she continued, "You need to do what's right for you and for your son."

After embracing her quickly, I walked down the corridor of Malfoy Manor, somehow still finding myself wishing that they'd done what was right for me — their son — just once.

Thursday and Friday passed in a blur.

My anger wouldn't abate no matter what I tried. While I worked, I found my mind wandering to the way my father had acted and the way my mother seemed to protect him, regardless of what he'd done in the past. Even when I tried, I couldn't imagine ever interfering in Scorpius' life the way he'd interfered in mine.

In the evenings, I read more of her journal, watched a few more memories, and wrote back and forth with Hermione. The amount we made the owl fly probably bordered on animal cruelty, though he seemed very eager to make the journey.

On Friday night, I tried to convince her to come home for the weekend, but she declined, telling me that she had plans with her colleagues to take in the sights wherever they were. Despite my frustration, I knew it was likely for the best.

Rather than moping around, I Floo called Pansy on Saturday morning; it was a nice day, so I arranged a trip to the park with her and the boys. After collecting Scorpius from Astoria, I headed to Diagon Alley to wait for her.

I heard her before I saw her.

"Did you use a Time-Turner and clone yourself with a Gemino?"

Looking up, I saw her walking towards me, one toddler on her hip and the other holding her hand.

"My mother says the same thing," I replied, unable to stop myself from smiling. "His appearance does favour mine."

"He's got Astoria's blue eyes, though."

Remembering me from earlier in the week, James tugged on my trouser leg and I crouched down to his level.

"Do you remember Scorpius?"

At the sound of his name, my son stepped closer and James nodded. Pansy set Sev down and sent them to play in the sandpit — something that she and I never would've been allowed to do.

She and I sat down on the bench to watch them. While we hadn't spent any time together over the past year, it felt like we were picking back up where we'd left off.

"So, what have you been up to the past few days?" she asked, angling her body towards me.

"DMLE by day, working my way through the memories and journals by night." Pushing my hair back, I let out a breath. "And I went over to the Manor and nearly punched my father."

Her eyes sparkled in the sun. "What prompted you to do that?"

"I saw how he threatened Hermione," I began, knowing that the explanation was going to be far more lengthy than she was expecting. "I got so fucking angry."

"Muffliato," Pansy murmured. "The last thing we need is one of those sweet boys cursing."

As we watched the boys play, I spilled the story. Much to my surprise, she'd never heard it; Hermione had kept everything about her interactions with my father to herself.

Well, with the exception of Blaise. She'd told him.

"What's that face?" Pansy asked me, noticing my scowl.

"I can't figure her out. She seems like she's close with you, but she went to Blaise."

"You need to let go of the jealousy about Blaise," she stated, rolling her eyes. "They were close throughout your affair. I barely saw Hermione while she was with you."

I thought back to the Christmas memory Hermione had shown me, remembering the look on her face as she'd handed baby James over to Weasley and simply walked away from Harry and Pansy. What she was saying made sense.

"So what happened, then? How did you two... bond?"

"We got closer as she and Harry started to fix their friendship. I honestly wasn't intending to ever really like Granger, but she grew on me. When she was struggling she became..." Pansy trailed off, and I waited with bated breath. "More human. She wasn't the perfectly put together know-it-all anymore. She made mistakes, the same way we had when we were younger."

"I suppose that makes sense, though I always knew she wasn't perfect."

She scoffed. "Please. You've been obsessed with her since fifth year, Draco. I'm sure you've called her perfect a thousand times."

I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Let's move a bit," Pansy said, standing up and cancelling the Muffliato. "Boys, would you like to swing?"

All the toddlers moved towards the swingset and we followed, lifting them each onto a swing. We started to push them and Pansy continued.

"So, you've had it out with Lucius. What about your mother?"

"I'm not as angry with her, but I read the letter she wrote to Hermione after the Obliviation. I didn't like the things she said, but I don't think she meant to hurt her," I replied, keeping my eyes on Scorpius. "She probably felt guilty and wanted to reach out to her."

Pansy shrugged. "It was like rubbing salt in her wounds, Draco."

With a sigh, I said, "I know. But you know how things are with my mother."

"I do. Honestly, for all the talk of propriety in pureblood circles, they manage to screw a whole lot up." Alternating between pushing James and Sev, she continued. "Do you remember what I told you about my mother's reaction to me marrying Harry?"

I thought back. "Maybe? I know she wasn't happy."

"But she put on the polite airs in public. She gave interviews about how she was so excited that we were able to move past our differences after the war." She shook her head. "But she spends all her time abroad now. Has for years, and she's never met Sev, nevermind Lily."

"And you're okay with that? With not seeing her?"

Pansy shrugged. "I've grown accustomed to it. It's not like she and I were the best of friends before all of this. And, if I had to choose, I'd pick Harry and my children every time."

Trying to imagine what my life would be like without my parents around, I kept pushing Scorpius' swing. Pansy didn't interrupt me, likely reading my body language.

"I don't know if I could do that," I finally said. "Just cut them off."

She gave me a weak smile. "I think if it came down to a choice between Hermione and your parents, you would."

"Do you think that's what she'll want me to do?"

"No. I don't think she'd ever do that, considering how much she misses her own parents," she answered quickly. "But it might make your life a whole lot easier."

After spending the day at the park, I brought Scorpius back to Astoria's house. As much as I wanted him to stay the night with me, I didn't think it would be right to alter his schedule so much so soon.

Since I'd Apparated, I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer. When she did, she rolled her eyes at me.

"You can still just come in, Draco."

Scorpius opened his arms, kicked his legs, and said, "Mama!"

"Well, that might not always be the case," I began, handing Scorpius off to her when she held her arms out. "I figured it would be best if we were respectful of boundaries from the beginning."

"Right," she said, arching a brow. "Well, it's just me and Daphne here. We're having dinner."

"Did you need me to keep him longer?" I asked, trying to be helpful.

She shook her head. "No. Daph wants to visit with him, too. Do you want to join us?"

I tried to think of a way to respectfully decline. As cordial as Astoria and I had been so far, I didn't think Daphne would give me the same courtesy.

"That's alright. You can enjoy your time with your sister."

Catching sight of his aunt, Scorpius squirmed and Astoria set him down. He ran from the door, making my heart crack a little bit. I hadn't even really said goodbye to him yet.

"Seriously, just come in for a few minutes. She's not going to hex you. I've already talked her down several times."

"The fact that you've had to do it several times makes me a bit wary," I answered. "But I do want to say goodnight to Scorp, so I guess I'll have to risk it."

The second I stepped through the door, Daphne glared.

Swallowing my pride, I greeted her first. "Hello, Daphne. How are you?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked to Astoria, who shook her head, silently communicating something.

Daphne let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm fine. How are you?"

"Fine," I echoed. "And Michael?"

"He's doing well. Just got promoted again."

I nodded. "Tell him I said congratulations."

"And how's Hermione? Has she moved in with you yet?" she asked.

"Daphne!" Astoria hissed.

I felt my cheeks heating. "No, she hasn't. She's working abroad at the moment."

Daphne looked at me, a surprised look on her face.

"She changed jobs and her first assignment is — well, I don't even know. I just know that it's not in Britain."

"So you're not even together? After all the bullshit?" Daphne blurted.

"We haven't really discussed it in depth."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "You made a big deal over telling me you wanted to be together but had to work some things out. Why not just be honest with Daphne?"

My embarrassment intensified and I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm sorry. This is an awkward situation at best." I turned to face Daphne directly. "And, to be quite frank, I don't think I owe you any explanations about my love life beyond what you already know."

Daphne's lips parted to speak but Astoria shook her head. "Don't, Daph. Not in front of Scorpius."

I was grateful she put a stop to it for now, and I knew I had to get out of there to avoid the awkwardness.

"Hey, Scorp," I said, drawing his attention. "Come here."

Crouching down to his level, I opened my arms and he shuffled towards me. I hugged him close and kissed the top of his head.

"Goodnight, buddy. I'll see you on Monday."

I knew he didn't quite understand what I'd said, but it didn't matter.

When I stood up, Astoria cleared her throat. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"Not really," I answered. "Why?"

"Could you take him for a few hours again? I have a... lunch to attend."

Beside her, Daphne was smirking, but I didn't take the bait.

"Of course. What time shall I pick him up?"

"Does ten-thirty work for you? It'll be easier for me to get ready if I know you've got him."

I nodded. "I'll see you then."

And, without another word, I made my escape.

Author's Note (Updated 11/27/21): So sorry to have disappeared for a couple of months.

Here is the schedule for the next four chapters:

- Chapter 66: 12/11/21

- Chapter 67: 1/8/22

- Chapter 68: 1/22/22

- Chapter 69: 2/5/22

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