Theretofore on GG:
"You can trust me, Hermione. I love you, I won't leave you. Especially not now, when we have so much planned." Suddenly, Hermione tensed and stepped away.
"Draco, I don't want us to be together for the baby. I don't want us to be miserable and unhappy and sticking it through because we think we have to. That isn't fair to us, and it won't be fair to it either. I'd never force you away; even if we weren't together, you're still my baby's father and I want you a part of its life no matter what," she said, and Draco shook his head, holding her face in his hands.
"Don't you think on that for a second, Hermione. That is one thing that you really don't have to worry about."
"I love you," she said, giving him half a smile, and Draco returned it ten fold.
"Let's go tell my mother."
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Chapter 9: The Trojan War
"Draco, isn't this a bit tactless?" Hermione asked as they appeared in front of a great stone edifice known to most as Malfoy Manor. "What if she's asleep? Or bathing? Or entertaining?" Draco laughed and tied his arm around her waist.
"She's my mother. She'll make time for me," he told her, marching up the path to the grand entry doors. Hermione bit her lip in anxious anticipation.
"She's going to hate me. Just look at me! I can't be your girlfriend, Draco. You're supposed to come home with some beautiful, rich, pureblooded, blonde girl with long legs and no waist and child-bearing hips... I'm what not to bring, in a nutshell," she burst, fingers scrambling to smooth her hair as she agonized over its state. Draco groaned, impeding their progress by stopping to press his lips to her forehead.
"Please don't do this to me, Hermione," he begged, running his palms over her upper arms. "Trust me, my mother is not expecting that. And, if she is, then she doesn't know me as well as one would hope, considering she is my mother. She'll love you because I love you. And, I promise, once she gets to know you, she'll love you for you as well. All right? No worries?" Hermione forced a smile and gave an unconvincing nod, attempting poorly to humor him. Draco smirked in amusement and kissed her pouty lips, then held his hand for her to take. She slipped shaky fingers into his palm and Draco squeezed them in assurance. Armed with excited confidence, he led the way to the front door, and proceeded to knock assertively.
Within minutes, the large door moved aside to reveal a tired-looking and very pale boy of fourteen with dark olive eyes and a mop of dishwater hair that fell flatly over his face. Hermione felt instant sympathy for the child and wondered fleetingly if the Malfoys used child labor as well as elfin. She looked up to Draco in surprise and saw him frown in sympathy as well.
"Hey, scout," he said, stepping forward and using the hand not clasped in Hermione's to ruffle the boy's thin blond hair. He smiled immediately at recognizing Draco, and Hermione felt her heart warm slightly at his happiness.
"Hey Draco," the boy said softly, as if he were too weak to speak at any higher a decibel. "What are you doing here?" he asked, stepping aside to allow them entry. Draco graciously took advantage of his gesture, pulling his girlfriend along with him and closing the heavy door before the younger blond felt need to exert himself to do so.
"I could ask the same of you, couldn't I? Shouldn't you be in school?" he asked him and the boy rolled his shoulders, deeply frowning.
"Mum's sick again. Bad this time," he said, eyes on the ground. "And I've got the horse again, so I can't go to school." Draco moved his hand to rest on his host's narrow shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Troy," he said sincerely, but was thanked with a slight shrug.
"Daddy's in Cambodia for two more months, so I'm staying here with Tia. Do you want me to go get her for you?"
"Not just yet, there's no rush," Draco said, shaking his head. "I want you to meet someone. Troy, this is my girlfriend Hermione. Manny; my cousin Troy." Troy turned his wide eyes to Hermione, as if surprised to see her standing there.
"You're real?" he asked in awe and Hermione couldn't contain her smile and amused giggle.
"Well, of course I am," she said cheerfully. Troy seemed startled that she truly possessed a voice. "What did you think I was?" He smiled crookedly and a very faint blush crept into his cheeks so that his skin, for a moment, mocked a healthy tone.
"Sometimes when I'm sick I hallucinate," he admitted, staring at his slipper-ed feet. "Professor Trelawney says they're godsend. Draco never brings girls home; I thought you were his angel." Hermione's heart melted instantly and she freed herself of Draco's grasp, bending to be at a more appropriate level with his tiny cousin.
"Well, haven't you your family's charm?" she asked him softly and held out a hand in greeting. "It's nice to have met you, Troy. I hope you feel better." He grinned and accepted her handshake, then turned to his cousin.
"I have to take my medicine, Draco. I was on my way to do it when you knocked on the door," he said and Draco's eyebrows rode high.
"Well, for hell's sake, boy; go," he instructed, guiding him toward the staircase with a soft shove. Troy smiled, shuffling toward his destination. Once he reached the first step, he turned back and waved.
"Bye, Hermione!"
It wasn't until he had journeyed half way up the exposed flight of stairs that Draco realized he would need his cousin's help.
"Troy, where's Mum?"
"Tia's..." Troy began, already struggling for breath. "Weeding." Draco frowned.
"Don't go too fast. Do you need help?" he called, but the stubborn little blond shook his head and determinedly pressed on.
"I can... do it."
Draco and Hermione kept careful watch over Troy until he disappeared into the second floor corridor. Draco laughed softly, smirking, and turned to his houseguest.
"Sorry. I didn't know he'd be here," he said, but Hermione shook her head, linking her arm around his.
"That's perfectly all right. Anyone who compliments me like that is welcome to as many unexpected appearances as his heart may desire," she said, smiling and resting her cheek against his upper arm. After a moment of thought, Hermione frowned and tilted her chin slightly upward, looking concerned. "I don't mean to pry, but... what's wrong with him?" she asked gently, and Draco smirk fell slightly. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
"I don't know. No one knows. We call it 'the horse'; you know -- the Trojan horse invaded Troy. It softens it a bit for him," Draco said, sighing softly and turning to look up the stairs. "I think it's more psychological than anything. He only seems to have it whenever his mother is ill. She has malaria. My uncle travels a lot, though I'm not sure what he actually does, and he's become as immune to tropical disease as any of the natives... but she isn't. My theory is that he gave it to her. The first time it was horrible. She never really got well. It seems to relapse and return every few months." There was a moment of revered silence and Hermione dared not break it. Draco turned to her with a genuine smile. "But enough about that. We've got our own family history to tell, haven't we?"
Hermione, remembering the baby and their chosen task at hand, felt her nervousness return and clutched his arm as if afraid he might pull away and leave her to fend for her own.
"To the garden?" he questioned and she sighed.
"Better sooner than never, I suppose."
-x- -x- -x-
A heavy thump echoed through the garden as Narcissa Malfoy dropped her entire box of gardening tools onto the cobblestone walkway.
"What do you mean you aren't getting married?" she shouted in indignation, eyes aflame as she questioned her son. Draco, who stood in such a way as to place himself beside Hermione while at the same time slightly obscuring her, swallowed and attempted to compose a rebuttal.
"I didn't say that, Mother," he defended and his mother's glare was replaced by one of equal strength from Hermione. "I said we haven't talked about it." Inwardly, Draco groaned; his afterthought had only served to irk his mother further, and create a man vs. woman scenario in which he was outnumbered.
"So you plan to have my grandbaby out of wedlock then, do you? Do you want me to be a laughing stock, Draco? Your own mother?"
"Mum," Draco groaned, sounding quite childlike. "No one cares about that anymore."
"I care, Draco. I care. Don't I count for anything?"
"Mrs. Malfoy..." Hermione interrupted, but she was shushed within moments.
"You shut your mouth, girl," Narcissa snapped. "You've no bearing on this conversation."
"Mother, please!" Draco scolded in surprise at his mother's tactlessness and she turned her fiery gaze again to him.
"How do you plan to support this baby, Draco? That's why you've come to me, isn't it? Well, don't expect a knut from me until you've done this girl proper."
"Surely you know me better than that, Mother. I came here to tell you. Include you in my happiness. I was excited, I wanted you to be the first to know," he said, then stopped, shaking his head in disgust. "I thought you'd be happy for me. To my surprise, it seems that both my baby and its mother are unwelcome here. I must admit that I am very much disappointed in you."
"Don't you patronize me, boy. I am your mother, and I know what's best for you!" Narcissa said, brandishing a small trowel, and stepped toward them. Draco positioned himself more completely in front of his conditioned girlfriend.
"Come, Hermione; I believe that is our cue to leave," he stated, turning to take light hold of her arm and pushing her toward the exit. Narcissa fumed.
"Yes, Draco. You leave, and don't you expect to come back without at the very least, a fiancée," she called after them, and Draco made haste to push Hermione through the garden doors and close them soundly behind him before attempting to confront his consort. When he turned however, it was only to see her storming down the path to the entry room, arms crossed and head bent to the ground.
"Hermione," he called, jogging after her, but she continued to walk unperturbed, remembering every turn which needed to be taken in order to reach the front doors. Draco reached her just as she breached the foyer's threshold. "Wait." She spun and backhanded him in the chest in frustration.
"You," she said, prodding the air preceding his nose with a rigid finger. "You told me she wouldn't be like that! You told me she wouldn't hate me! You said... you said!"
"Hermione, it isn't you," he said, taking her upper arms in his hands. "Mother's just old fashioned. She doesn't want rumors spread about my having unprotected, promiscuous relations. She's paranoid, especially about the Malfoy image."
"She hates me," Hermione insisted, feeling her eyes fill with tears as the emotional battle within her reached her nerves. Draco frowned, shaking his head determinedly.
"No. Everything was fine at first, remember? She was happy to be introduced. She was even happy about the baby. It was the marriage, or lack thereof, that threw her into a mood. She'll relax when we settle down and nothing makes the Prophet. I promise."
"Stop promising me things over which you have no control. You don't know what your mother's going to do, you don't know that things will end up all right, and you don't know what's going to be written in the papers. Stop trying so hard to make me feel better. In retrospect, it never seems to work," Hermione demanded, ignoring the first tear to fall down her powdered cheek. Draco looked to the floor, keeping his frustration at the situation at bay, and sighed.
"All right. You're right. I'm sorry."
Hermione crossed her arms tightly at her chest and sniffled, kissing him softly in acceptance of his offered apology.
"I want to go home," she said softly, sounding like a small child. Draco looked up and gave a soft nod.
"All right. Your place or mine?"
"Mine, of course," Hermione answered monotonously, and Draco's lips fell into a deep frown of disappointment. She brightened the mood with a smile. "I've got to pack, haven't I?" Upon realization of her intention, Draco's face lit up in a grin and he laughed aloud, lifting her into the air and spinning once around. Hermione laughed in spite of herself and, upon landing, wiped the tears from her eyes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"You've made me very happy, Manny," he told her, moving to open the heavy doors, and held them there for her to pass into the sunshine. Hermione smiled at both his words and gesture.
"Let's hope it doesn't backfire, hm?" she teased and Draco offered her a crooked smile. Hermione swept outside without glance toward his pouty face and he followed her, grasping her hand as they walked slowly down the path.
"Wait!" called a meek voice from behind them, startling the couple into turning back. The entry doors opened to reveal a panting blond boy, still dressed in a nightshirt and slippers. He scrambled to the steps and fell hard into a sitting position.
"Troy," Draco said, sounding almost like a curse, and quickly made his way to his cousin, dropping to his knees before him. "Hey, scout," he said casually, smirking. "All right?" Troy took a moment to catch his breath, then nodded enthusiastically.
"Do you have to leave?" he asked, sounding devastated, and Draco found himself slightly frowning.
"I'm afraid so. Mum and I are having a bit of a disagreement. She doesn't want me here," Draco admitted and Troy heaved a sigh so heavy that he nearly toppled over.
"Okay," he said, tying his thin arms around his cousin's neck, and Draco returned the embrace wholeheartedly. "I wanted you to come," Troy said after a moment, still entrapped within his expression of goodbye. "I prayed, a little." Draco laughed, pulling from his thin, boney binds.
"Why didn't you owl me? You know I'd have come straight away," he said and Troy gave half a smile, shrugging embarrassedly.
"I didn't want to bother you."
Draco shook his head, smirking in amusement.
"I don't know about you, boy." He paused. "But I do know that you aren't supposed to be outside. Go on, now." Troy rolled his eyes and nodded in reluctant agreement. He raised a small hand to Hermione, who had approached their conversation but remained merely a bystander.
"Bye Hermione. Don't be sad," he said, then stood and hurried toward the doors.
-x- -x- -x-
"Need help with anything?" Draco asked as he followed Hermione into her bedroom. She pulled her suitcase from below her bed with considerable effort and let it fall open on the mattress, then approached him and marked a kiss beside his lips.
"That would be very much appreciated. Just start shrinking things. I'll sort through what I want later. I'm going to go find Faye's suitcase as well; I doubt she'll mind if I borrow it."
"Where is she, come to think?"
"I don't know, for sure," Hermione replied as she disappeared into a room across the hall and returned within seconds with a very pink, plastic suitcase. "Possibly in class, but I don't think so. Maybe at the housing office. She said she'd file a request this morning." Draco, deciding to start somewhere safer than her dresser, moved to the vanity, proceeding to shrink an array of cosmetics and fit them into a black box, then shrinking the box and moving to place it carefully in the less vibrant of duffels.
"She's all right with this?" he asked conversationally, sparing only a glance to Hermione, who had accepted the monumental task that was her armoire. She nodded amidst shrinking an entire drawer and dumping it haphazardly into Faye's borrowed pack.
"Once I told her about the baby, she pretty much made me promise to move out. Really, it will be much more inexpensive for her to move into student housing. This apartment was not the least pricey of the bunch. She's just not keen to living with strangers."
"How did you meet her?"
"She did go to Hogwarts; about five years below us, but I met her at a convention. I'm alumni to her university; she wants to be a crime scene investigator," Hermione said, smirking to herself. "In the background, anyway. She's studying to work in the lab. Last Christmas, during her seventh year, they held a conference with my graduating class of mortuary scientists and the upcoming class of postmortem chemists. Like a 'what to expect' sort of program. She was my assigned freshman and, as it was a three week course of bonding activity, we became good friends. She brought up the prospect of rooming together when I complained about the dumpy apartment I had then resided in and I jumped on it," she explained, multitasking as to complete her packing adventure as quickly and completely as possible.
Draco nodded softly at her story and mused quietly to himself, immersed in the job of going through her things. After clearing the vanity top and each of the drawers, he looked up at the mirror and smiled at the familiar white and ivy card which was stuck beneath the rim. He moved to pluck it softly from its roots and place it carefully within the basket of accessories that he was holding, but another slip of paper caught his eye.
"Manny?" he asked softly.
"Hm?" Hermione asked, emptying her closet with a turn of her wrist.
"What's this?"
She turned to him, expecting only to spare a glance before recognizing the object, but the all too familiar, crumpled letter made her stop and slowly approach him.
"Oh," she said, but gave no inclination as to further explanation. Draco, now more curious than before, turned to her with a raised eyebrow.
"Well?"
"A letter," she said, hesitating slightly. "From an old boyfriend." Draco looked honestly surprised.
"You kept it? A love letter?" he asked, sounding interested rather than angry. Hermione laughed dryly.
"Hardly. A break-up letter, and a harsh one at that. It's kind of funny," she said, taking the parchment from his hands. "I thought I knew him. I really did and then... then it was like he became a different person. Not a good change, I'll give him that. I kept it so I'd remember that. Learn my lesson, so to speak." Her lips curled into a lopsided and somewhat sad smile and she sighed, looking up. "That was a long time ago," Hermione stated, then turned and dropped the letter into her waste basket before returning to her shrinking charms without another thought. Draco watched her silently for a moment, lost for words.
"You don't have to throw it away," he said. "If you want to keep it, I'm not about to stop you." Hermione spied him over her shoulder.
"I shouldn't need it now, should I?" she said teasingly, and Draco smiled.
"Suppose not."
Hermione pressed her suitcase closed with considerable effort, locking it and moving to assist Draco in filling her second.
"Enough about me," she said, sounding as if open to starting afresh. "Why did you never tell me about Troy? It seems you two have a close relationship."
"We do. He's my mother's half-brother's son. When my uncle, Silas Gallagher, goes exploring or hunting or whatever it is he does, my Aunt Caden and Troy often come to stay with my mother. I suppose because Caden hates to be alone. I've known Troy for, pretty much, his entire life. Really, I might even be considered a father-figure to him, though there's only about ten year's difference between us. Silas was never around and Lucius never had a lot of time for me, much less Troy. He's a good kid, he deserves better."
"He does seem like a sweet little boy," Hermione agreed. "But that doesn't explain why you've never told me about him. We're supposed to be open with each other. No secrets."
"Well, we've never really talked about our families, have we? I don't even know your parents' names," Draco countered, but nearly regretted it when a dark shadow shaded Hermione's face. "I..."
"My mother died," she said, interrupting him. "When I was 19. My father divorced her in my seventh year, and Mum tried so hard to get enough money together so that I could go to university, that she just... snapped. It was too much for her; she had a stroke." Hermione sighed. "And pointlessly, too. I won a scholarship. Between that and the money she'd given her life to earn, I had enough to go to school, pay room and board, and live my four years there without a job to interfere with my studies."
"I'm sorry," Draco said, now wholeheartedly regretting his upbringing of the topic. Hermione, though somewhat saddened, seemed not to mind spilling her soul to him.
"It's all right. I don't feel guilty anymore. Now," she said, laughing softly. "Now I just blame my father. It doesn't really matter how I think of him. I haven't seen him since he left her. I've no idea where he lives. I do know, however, that he's alive, as I've yet to see my inheritance and I'd have been notified were he to change his will." She snapped the suitcase shut. "Are we done?" Draco, putting on a small smile for her benefit, gave a nod.
"I think so. Unless you want furniture?"
"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "It came with the apartment. And what do I need a bookshelf made of plywood and staples when I've got you to handcraft me whatever I want?" she teased, lightening the mood, and he smirked.
"Oh, you think that, do you?" he questioned, trapping her in an embrace from behind, and Hermione laughed, turning her head to aid in an anticipated kiss. "I really do love you, Manny."
"Expect me to doubt it, do you?" she jeered, but nursed Draco's inclined eyebrow with a well placed kiss to his chin. "Let me write a note to Faye and we'll go and sort through my things."
"You say that as if I should be excited."
"Aren't you?" she taunted and he pretended to think.
"Mmm... no. Not particularly," he said and Hermione eyed him over her shoulder as she exited her bedroom.
"Shows what you know." Draco shook his head before following her, carrying with him a pair of mismatching suitcases.
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A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long, but you have to realize. I'm not dead. And I'm not not updating. I have three running stories, not including my short story collection, and because it's finals season (and even before, when it wasn't) and marching season, I've very little time to write. So, if I manage to squeeze out ten pages (one chapter) a week, that means each story only is updated every three to four weeks. It's been about a month and a week since I updated this one, so I'm not far off schedule. I'm just so tired. Please note that that final scene was not filler-flirting. We had some important things happen as well. If there was no reason to do that scene, I wouldn't have done it. Thanks for reading, everyone.