Draco could always count on his mother. She was the pinnacle of protection. She made sure that her family was safe no matter the consequences, and he admired her for that. In a way, he couldn't help but see those traits in Hermione too. Someone fiercely loyal to him and everyone she cared about. That was why he'd do what his mother suggested. It was a bit on the extreme side, Draco had to admit, but considering the people he was dealing with extreme measures were necessary.

He, too, would do anything for his family.

"Alright, Draco. Talk to your wife."

Draco, who had already showered, dressed, and was under the covers in bed, turned in Hermione's direction. Well, the bathroom anyway. She had just turned off the shower and the smell of her shampoo was wafting into the bedroom.

"Hm?"

"Something's wrong with you." She said as she turned off the bathroom light and entered the bedroom. "You've been quiet since dinner and that's not like you."

Draco sighed and briefly rubbed his eyes. "Nothing's wrong, I promise. I just-" He paused. Somewhere between obscuring his eyes with his hands and pulling them away from his face, Hermione had stepped in front of her bureau. She had also ditched her towel on the floor beside her and was completely stark naked.

Hermione detected the pause and turned around. "You just…?"

Draco swallowed. "What?"

"You said, 'I just,' but you didn't finish."

"Oh," he replied somewhat breathlessly, and then let his eyes scrutinize every detail of his wife as she pulled out an underwear from her drawer and slip it on. To him it was all in slow motion and he was killing Blaise in his mind twenty times over.

"Well?" Hermione urged. She forgoed the bra as she always did when going to bed and slipped on a pyjama tank top and a pair shorts to match. Having her covered allowed Draco to finally think (sort of), but now he was back to his brooding.

Draco sat up in bed and said plainly, "I don't want you to have to hide because of my family."

Hermione instantly frowned. She briefly glanced at the floor as she rubbed her arms and fidgeted where she stood. "So, that's why your mother wanted to see you."

Draco nodded. He held out his hand and waited patiently for Hermione to walk towards him and crawl onto the bed. Once there he took her in his arms and leaned his cheek on her head.

"Your mother may think I'm hiding, but I'm not." Hermione said after a prolonged silence.

"She didn't exactly say that, but from what she told me, I can't help but think that's exactly what you're doing." Draco placed a finger under her chin and made her look up at him. "That's something that I refuse to let you do. Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, aren't they?"

Hermione smiled. "A common misconception. There's a difference between being brave and valuing bravery. Besides," she took a deep breath. "Considering the...circumstances… Don't you think it would be better for me to keep myself safe? To keep Aiden and the baby safe?"

"Of course it would." Draco quickly agreed, his fingers gently caressing her face as he spoke. "But let me determine how to do that. I'll take care of you, Hermione. All three of you."

Hermione had closed her eyes at his touch, and she relished in the butterfly feeling she got when his hand settled onto her stomach. When she reopened her eyes she was startled, but didn't let it show. Draco's words had been sweet, but only now did she realize that there was an agenda behind them. His eyes were determined, hard almost, as though he had a surefire way to make due on his promise. Knowing full well what had happened to Tiberius, Hermione could only imagine what that method would be. However, for peace of mind sake, for once in her life she would rein in her inquisitive nature and not ask.

Dearest,

While I appreciate the sentiments that you are trying your utmost to share, they are not as soothing as you think as I dwindle into nothing in this dismal place. I had hopes that everything I had sacrificed for would turn out as I had once envisioned it -without a maniacal leader, of course. And I had hoped that once I had received correspondence from you that the horrors that I have been hearing as of late would turn out to be false.

They were not.

How could you let Draco marry her?

Yours,

Lucius

Narcissa ignored everything in the letter except the question. It had been her deepest regret to have not gotten the idea to send a photograph earlier so it could have accompanied the letter that this was a response to. Lucius' words were upsetting, although she was not surprised. Azkaban or not, his deeply held and in-bred beliefs about the status of his family and societal pressures would be hard to eradicate -not that she had wanted him to. They made up who he was. Yes, they had led him down an incorrect path (and her too, if she was being honest), but beneath all of that was a man who cared and wanted the best for his family. That best had included a pureblood witch from a reputable home and Narcissa understood. It was what she had wanted for Draco too, wasn't it? But having seen with her own eyes how far her only child had come from the grips of despair to a joy beyond measure, even with unfortunate circumstances, Narcissa had realized that a pureblood wife may have been what she wanted, but it wasn't what he needed.

How was Narcissa going to convince Lucius of that?

"Are you alright, Mother?"

Narcissa nearly jumped out of her skin. Instead she folded her husband's letter and turned to her son. "Draco," she smiled. "Don't you look...quite Malfoy-esque."

Draco glanced down at himself and grinned. He was dressed for a business meeting. A fresh pair of black pants, a crisp, ironed white shirt with the collar neatly turned down by his wife over a black jacket. He met his mother's gaze again and placed his hands at the edge of his pockets.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Considering your audience in a few minutes, I'd say that it's a bad thing for them." Narcissa answered proudly. "You've gone over everything with our private solicitor, yes?"

"Down to the punctuation marks." Draco replied. "There'll be no weaseling out of it should they choose to sign."

"Which they will no matter how much they protest. However," she made sure to add. "Do make note of the ones who make the most fuss. I'll want to make an impression on them for their unruliness."

Draco smirked. "Will do, Mother."

Draco bid his mother farewell and headed towards the fireplace in the next room over. From there he would use the temporary Floo connection to take him to one of three Malfoy properties, this one located in Northern Ireland. Belfast, to be precise. Draco had never asked why his father, or his father's father for that matter, had chosen this particular property to conduct the business meetings associated with Malfoy investments, but then again he hadn't cared. He hadn't been interested at the time, nor was he very much interested now. Family members, close family friends, and business associates received their dividends without fail because it was set up as such. There was honestly no reason to see anyone involved at all. A business meeting meant problems. It also meant changes. Draco could imagine the thoughts running through everyone's mind when they had received his owl asking for a summit just one week before their dividends were supposed to be sent. The chaos. The inner turmoil. They deserved it all.

Draco appeared out of the fireplace into the home he hadn't step foot in since he was fifteen, and even then he hadn't been allowed into the meeting room. As he opened the doors and walked into it for the first time, he nodded to himself at how well-kept and well-decorated it was. Not that he had expected anything different. There were bookshelves to the left and right of him -massive ones at that. They held such an innumerable amount that the sight probably would've made his wife's mouth water. Directly ahead of him was nothing but glass, a ceiling-to-floor window as it were. A chandelier hung high above, in the middle sat a large, oblong table. And at that table were the very people to whom his letter had been sent.

Uncles who were technically his father's uncles and cousins and their children seeing as Lucius didn't have any siblings. There were also friends of the family: Nott Sr., Greengrass, Parkinson. Draco let his thoughts linger on Parkinson for a moment because he knew that repercussions of this day would come either in the form of a Howler or a screaming witch in person, courtesy of Pansy. He was not looking forward to that one bit.

"Alright, Draco," his Uncle Roland spoke first. "What's wrong?"

Draco smiled as he walked further into the room until he made it to the single seat at the head of the table. "Does something have to be wrong? Perhaps I just want to get further involved in the Malfoy monetary affairs now that my father is...indisposed."

Greengrass chuckled. "Your father has been 'indisposed' for the past five years. Now you want to be involved?"

Draco shrugged. "I didn't care much when I was younger. Times have changed."

"They certainly have." Another uncle of his added. "We have a mud- muggleborn in the family."

It took great restraint on Draco's part not to react to the "near slip" of that horrid word. Instead he inclined his head and cupped his hands on the table.

"We do. And it's for that reason that I've called this meeting." Draco leaned back in his chair. "My wife and I have a son."

Murmurs immediately erupted around the table. Someone whispered, albeit much too loudly. "But I thought that Tiberius' curse-?"

Draco's eyes immediately landed on a cousin to his left. "What?"

The man shrunk back, an innocent smile on his face and a chuckle on his lips. "I mean, we all heard about that terrible misfortune with your wife. The Daily Prophet seemed fairly certain of her future inabilities to have children."

Draco sized the man up and down and scowled. "Yes… However, there is such thing as adoption, Harlow."

"It's quite the shame really." An uncle to his right spoke. He was more like a great-great uncle with his age, and of course the most prejudiced, clinging to pureblood traditions like it was a lifeline. "That 'son' you have will take no part in any of the Malfoy inheritances. Adopted means there's no Malfoy blood in him and therefore he is excluded. Draco, if you wish to maintain the inheritances you must have an heir."

"And if he doesn't?" Nott Sr. questioned with a smile. "Who gets control, I wonder?"

"Not you," Draco's great-great uncle sniped at him. "You're not family."

"Whether he is or isn't doesn't matter." Draco interjected. He began to smile broadly at his next set of words. "There will be an heir. My wife is pregnant, and there'll be a blood-born Malfoy in early March, late February. And that, gentleman is what brings us here today and for this."

Draco pulled out a roll of parchment -a contract, to be precise, and set it on the table in front of him. "I'll be blunt: I don't trust any of you. My family is of utmost importance to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that they're safe from you and anyone you might use to hurt them."

Harlow huffed. "I must say, Draco. I'm appalled at the insinuation."

"You're a grown man, Harlow." Draco replied flippantly. "The feeling will pass."

"What's the catch?" Parkinson questioned. "If any of us wanted to do your wife harm, a silly little contract wouldn't help."

"No, of course not. That's why there's an Unbreakable Vow embedded in it."

The sound of chairs scratching the floor and cries of outrage filled the room. In all honesty it sounded like music to Draco's ears.

"Disgraceful!" His great-great uncle shouted as he thumped his fist onto the table. "Absolutely disgraceful! You would condemn us all to die over one little mudblood?"

"Muggleborn, Uncle Gideon," Draco corrected with a sneer. "And you'd only die if you broke the contract." Then he scoffed. "Would it truly be that hard not to plot to torture and-or kill my wife?"

When Draco was met with silence he tutted and shook his head. "As it were," he continued, "the contract won't kill you. However, if you violate the contract you'll wish that it had. Just ask Uncle Tiberius who screams and moans every minute of every single day and will continue to do so for the rest of his life."

The silence that swept over everyone now was less in opposition, but rather fear mixed with curiosity.

"What did you do to him?" Greengrass asked tentatively. Draco smiled.

"Break the contract and find out for yourself."

More silence.

"What if I refuse to sign?" Roland said defiantly. Draco merely shrugged and leaned back further in his chair.

"Then I hope you have money saved up. Your dividends will be henceforth revoked."

"You're joking!"

"I hardly kid about money."

"You can't do that." Nott Sr. growled. "Your father won't allow it!"

"My father is inconsequential to this arrangement." Draco snapped. "The moment he landed in Azkaban for an indefinite sentence everything that was his became mine. Mine to own and mine to control. That said, I can choose what to do with it. Whether you do or don't get your dividends is your problem, not mine. So, you can either give up the coin or sign the contract, retract your devious claws away from my wife, and live a happily, rich ever after. Your choice."

Draco let his gaze pass over everyone as they pondered his words, and just for a few moments his heart ticked away anxiously. There was a chance, albeit a small one, that some of them wouldn't sign. There were a few who honestly didn't need Malfoy money to survive. If that turned out to be the case, he would have to come up with a new way to keep those who didn't sign in line. How, he wasn't entirely sure, but one step at a time he supposed.

Parkinson was furious, but he reached out his hand anyway. "Give me the damn contract."

Draco didn't smile although he was feeling more than triumphant. He floated the contract over with his wand and Parkinson grabbed it with unnecessary force. A self-inking quill followed shortly after. Parkinson only skimmed the contract, but then he paused abruptly and held the contract up to his face. Draco had expected this, and so he calmly reacted when the man growled out his confusion and frustrations.

"What is this? Potter? Weasley? This contract is supposed to protect your mudblood wife, not these people!"

"Call my wife a mudblood again and your dividends stop whether you sign that contract or not." Draco told him sternly. "And as for the additions you've pointed out, there's more than one way to hurt someone, and I won't run the risk of any of you doing so through her friends or family. Or my own and myself for that matter. That said, the contract will protect me, my mother, and Hermione's family and friends. Not to mention any children, adopted or not, that they have or will have in the future."

"Protecting muggleborns and blood traitors," Nott Sr. scoffed as Parkinson regretfully signed the contract. "If only your father could see you now."

Draco did his utmost not to grind his teeth. "Sign the contract."

Nott Sr. continued to grumble, but he signed. They all signed. When the deed was done they all left the room in silent rage while Draco tucked the contract into the inside of his jacket. With a separate piece of parchment he had in his pocket, he wrote down Parkinson's, Nott Sr.'s, Uncle Roland's, and Uncle Gideon's names. Whatever his mother had planned to do with the ones who "made the most fuss" would be interesting, to say the least. He sighed when he was finished and felt accomplished. Hermione was safe. His children were safe. Maybe now they could finally live their lives without looking over their shoulders.

"Yes," Draco answered himself happily as he stood. "Time to tell Mother she can start planning that party."

Author's note: An Unbreakable Vow in a contract. Deviously-planned by Narcissa and executed by Draco. What a pair they make lol. People better watch out!

Sorry for the delay, btw! You may or may not know, but I'm currently in school so homework assignments and all that come first. BUT! I'm always working on the next chapter, so never worry :D. Also, here comes some shameless self-promotion. I don't know why I didn't think to mention it before (sorry, don't murder me lol). About two months ago I self-published my first book on Amazon. It's called "The Keeper's Key" by Kelly Ashley and I am...really proud that I was able to do it. It occurred to me that some of you might be interested in reading something original that I wrote so I figured I'd share :).

Have a good Monday (Tuesday for some of you!)!

-WP

Replies to Guests

Narcissa: That's a good way to describe Narcissa! She's definitely like the "head mother." Always making sure that her family is treated fairly and that no harm comes to them. It's truly a wonderful thing :)

Guest: "I wonder what Narcissa..." Well, you finally know what Narcissa was thinking! They're all wonderful and I love how they interact. As for Hermione (lol), you'll find out how long it takes in the next chapter ;).

Guest2: "YAY!" Wahoo! YES! Gosh darn it Hermione and Draco deserve this. I really did love that chapter too. Ron and Hermione in a close friendship is honestly how I view them. I can't see them any other way.