The next morning Hermione rose from her uneasy slumber aware of Malfoy's absence beside her. She sat up, wiping the streak of drool that ran from the corner of her mouth to her chin.

"Draco?" She yawned, peering around the room in search of the platinum blonde. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she noticed his absence.

She pursed her lips, the gears in her head turning as she allowed herself to ponder on the events of the previous night.

Hermione wasn't sure if her ears had deceived her, or Malfoy had really told her he loved her.

Me?! How could he love me? Unless...

Unless it wasn't her he was talking to.

Hermione fought the strange emptiness that formed in her chest at this thought. But who could be the person who could reduce the Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince who had ice running though his veins, to a crying, broken mess? Who?

The answer came to her as fast as lightning, surging through her at a speed that had her launching upwards off the bed. Astoria.

Hermione didn't know much about the woman who apparently had married Draco and given him an heir. The little she knew about her was that she was a Slytherin with blonde hair and blue eyes that quite a lot of girls at Hogwarts envied, and that she had a sister named Daphne that was in the same year as Draco.

Yes, now that she thought more about it, she remembered constantly seeing Astoria in the corridors, wandering alone unlike Draco who usually had an entourage of Slytherins surrounding him. Hermione always thought that she seemed down to earth, and less of a Slytherin. She even went as far as thinking that she suited being in Hufflepuff. And there was that one occasion where they had spoken in the library. She had caught interest in the book Hermione was reading at the moment, to which she inquired about it. Hermione, being the Know-It-All that she was, gave a little more information than necessary. Instead of rolling her eyes or commenting on her verboseness like many do, she beamed at her, and thank her politely before walking away.

Where was she now?

Why wasn't Scorpius' mother present at that moment, tending to her husband and son like all model pureblood wives were expected by the Wizarding World to do?

Hermione didn't want to dwell on those thoughts too much, for she found that they troubled her. Another deep yawn left her lips as she left the room to get ready for the day.

As Hermione entered the dining room for breakfast, she found, to her surprise, that no one was seated in their respective seats, despite breakfast already being set up.

Hermione reluctantly took a seat, her mind plagued by confusion. One of Atty's relatives, a small male house elf by the name of Bobby appeared next to Hermione. "Missus, Master Malfoy says that hes will not be at breakfast because hes is very much busy. And young Master Scorpius is not feeling too well!" The young elf squealed.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Scorpius is sick?" Bobby nodded. Hermione stood up abruptly.

"Missus, where is you going? Is you not going to eat the meal?" Bobby questioned.

"Oh I'm so sorry Bobby," Hermione apologised sincerely. "But I don't think I have an appetite right now."

Bobby's threw Hermione a look of concern. "Is Missus sick too?" He asked.

Hermione gave herself a moment of thought before answering. "I guess just a bit. But don't worry I'll be fine. You can have anything off the table if you haven't eaten yet, Bobby." And with that she marched off to Scorpius' room.

"Enter." She heard a feeble voice call out after she had knocked on his door. Hermione let herself into the boy's Slytherin themed room, and saw him lying in bed with the covers over himself, his pale face sticking out from over the thick sheets.

"Hey Scorp, what's the matter?" Hermione asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Hello Hermione, I-I just-" He began coughing just before he could finish what he was saying.

"Sick?" Hermione asked.

Scorpius nodded. "But I think I'm strong enough to do lessons today." It was quite obvious that Scorpius wasn't fit enough to do his lessons today. He looked paler than usual, his skin clammy, dark bags hanging under his eyes, which were devoid of the zeal that they usually possessed.

Hermione shook her head. "That won't do. I think we'll have to cancel lessons today. I mean look at you, you look so ill!

"Tell you what, today I'll care for you. Would you like that?" Scorpius' eyes lit up at the proposal. "Oh yes please!"

Hermione smiled. "Right, now I just have to tell your dad." Before she could get up, she felt someone take a hold of her wrist. She turned, met with the sight of Scorpius, who had made the effort to crawl out of the sheets to grab her wrist, halting her movement.

"You don't have to do that, I know that Daddy has too much important work to complete." Scorpius said, eyes wide with concern. Hermione frowned at the boy. "I'm sure telling him that you're sick wouldn't derail his entire schedule now would it?" Scorpius watched her frightfully as she rose, walking towards the door.

"Don't fret Scorp. I'll be back in a jiffy to nurse you back to health. Okay?" Scorpius nodded. Hermione shut the door, and marched to Draco's office. She knocked on his door, and waited for his voice to rumble from behind the door.

"What do you want Granger?" Draco grunted, without lifting his head from the paper he was currently scribbling on. Hermione cleared her throat, eyeing Draco warily. The man looked visibly exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes, his hair tousled despite the fact that he had attempted, to some degree, to straighten it. She had thought that he'd gotten better sleep than her, what with the way he had clung to her. How could he have slept peacefully knowing that I was so close to him, invading his personal space? The thought bothered Hermione more than she was ready to admit.

"Well? I haven't got all day Granger." He drawled, lifting his head to stare at Hermione in a condescending manner. Hermione squirmed, his callous tone making her stomach knot.

She coughed awkwardly. "Erm... Scorpius has a cold." She said.

"Tell Atty to attend to his needs then." Draco said impatiently.

"But he wants me to take care of him." Hermione persisted.

"Then go ahead." Draco said brusquely.

What is his problem? Hermione thought as she watched the man scribble away on some parchment. What work could be more important than his son's health?

"Draco do you even care that Scorpius is sick?" Hermione huffed, arms crossed over her chest. This question was successful in grabbing Draco's attention. Hermione watched smugly as he rose from his seat, her smugness however subsiding as he stalked closer and closer to her. Finally inches apart, and emitting an intimidating aura that chilled Hermione to the core, as shameful as it was for her to admit. In a low, almost threatening voice, he asked "Are you suggesting that I do not care for my son? My heir?"

Hermione swallowed. "I said no such thing Malfoy."

Draco backed away from her, his satisfaction at frightening her evident in his eyes. "Good. Now go look after him."

Quickly Hermione made for the door, her heels clicking against the wooden floor.

But before she could reach for the door his deep, baritone voice rang out from behind him, sending chills down her spine. "Oh and Granger?"

"What?" Hermione gulped.

"Last night's incident will not be discussed with anyone under any circumstance. Understood?"

"I understand." She mumbled obediently

"Good." And with that he returned to his work. Hermione simply sighed and left. Once behind the closed door of Draco's study, gave a huff of relief that she unknowingly held.

She ran her finger through her curls as Draco's words replayed in her mind.

Although Draco's words had not pertained to anything that could've spooked Hermione, the manner in which he said it, and his body language exuded an aura almost as frightening as the one he had exuded the previous night.

If there was one lesson she learnt from that short encounter with Draco's wrath, it was that she should never, ever question his love for his son.