Wowowowow! You guys are awesome! This might sound odd but I'm glad Draco came off as such an ass. That was the point. Now let's see if I can redeem him just a little, shall we?

P.S. This was originally a one-shot that went horribly wrong. I obviously have very little self-control. :P

Rose Granger

Three and a Half Years Later

Rose Granger might have only been three years old but she knew the significance of the weekend. Saturdays meant she could sleep late. They meant she didn't have to be dropped off at the crack of dawn with gran and gramps while her mother went to work. And most of all, it meant she had her mother all to herself.

Hermione had bundled her daughter in her warmest wool coat, including the mock Gryffindor scarf and hat Ron had given her for her last birthday that she insisted on wearing the first time the temperature dropped. The child was indoctrinated already and it wasn't even her fault.

She smiled down at the little girl as she looped the red and gold scarf around her neck, moving aside her pale blonde curls before covering her head with the sock hat.

"Books, mummy," she grinned.

She chuckled at her exuberant expression and nodded. "Yes, Sweetie, we're going book shopping."

Minus the hair and familiar grey eyes, she was just like her mother. Ron had jokingly accused her of abuse when he caught the girl reading by the time her third birthday rolled around but her curiosity knew no bounds. He and Harry often called her a mini-Hermione.

Hermione was just fine with that. The less she got from her father the better.

Hermione stood and slipped her own wool coat on with a scarf before she picked her daughter up and stepped into the floo.

Diagon Alley was a special treat for Rose. She knew all about magic. She knew that her grandparents didn't have magic but her mother did. Hermione nearly cried her eyes out when she caught Harry once explaining to her daughter that it made Hermione extra special in the magical world.

He was a dear to lie so sweetly even if he truly believed it himself. Most had moved on from such open bigotry. Purebloods, for the most part, no longer openly sneered at Muggle-borns but rarely intermarried.

The fact that her three year old daughter already knew so much about wizarding social dynamics was unnerving enough but she wasn't easy to lie to or put off when she wanted to know something. That and Ron was usually daft enough to slip up and tell the child whatever she wanted to know.

Hermione regularly expressed her thanks that he and Lavender had yet to procreate. There was still time for him to wise up a bit.

The shopkeeper smiled at Hermione in greeting when the two girls entered, brushing off snow along the way. She offered the old man a wave and took Rose's hand to lead her into the children's fiction section.

She was reading at a five year old level now and Hermione was constantly running out of appropriate reading material for the girl. Just last week she'd caught her sitting at the kitchen table attempting to work her way through the first chapter of an old copy of Moby Dick. She'd nearly laughed herself silly watching the child's tiny fingers following the lines in the book, brown furrowed when she encountered a word she didn't know how to pronounce.

"I think it's time for new books," she'd smiled as she confiscated the book.

So here they were all set to lose themselves amongst the bookshelves for the afternoon.

Hermione made a comfortable living and thankfully didn't have to deny her daughter anything because of lack of funds. The girl certainly wasn't spoiled but she was thankful she didn't have trouble providing for her. She'd worked up to Head of the Magical Law Enforcement department in the last year, youngest ever, and with it had come a generous pay raise.

"Okay, five books is the limit," Hermine laughed when she found Rose sitting on the floor amongst a pile of books. The girl pouted pitifully at that, clearly already trying to decide which ones she should choose.

Hermione crouched down in front of her and glanced around her selection. Back at home, she had an assortment of both muggle and wizarding books. Given that she was already showing signs of her magic, it was rather important for her to be immersed in both worlds.

She sighed, a slight smile now tilting her lips. "Okay, two more."

Rose grinned brightly and then chose her seven books. She handed them to her mother and followed along as they went to the register.

The shopkeeper smiled at her, waving at her as he usually did.

"Let's see then. That's seven children's books for Miss Rose and four new ones for Miss Hermione."

Hermione dug her wallet out of her bag and groaned when she checked it. "Bugger, I'm going to have to run over to Gringotts and make a withdrawal. I've got mostly pounds right now."

"Not a problem, dear," he smiled. "I'll go ahead and wrap everything up for you and be ready when you return."

"Thank you," she smiled in return.

They hurried across the square and into the large and imposing bank. Rose was fascinated by the goblins and more than once Hermione had had to shush her from asking nosy questions.

"I need to make a withdrawal please," she spoke to an unfamiliar goblin.

Without even looking up from his log, he drawled, "Which account, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. "Which account? I only have one."

The goblin lowered his glasses as he observed her now. He'd not ever helped the female portion of the golden trio but he'd worked at Gringotts forever and a day. It was their job to know each account holder.

"Actually, you have two. Are you not aware?"

"No, Griphook has never mentioned it."

She glanced around for the familiar goblin but he was nowhere in sight, shushing Rose who was tugging on her hand insistently. Likely down in the vaults.

"Curious. Likely because it was opened by someone else for you and you've only ever come to withdraw yourself."

Hermione pursed her lips in thought and finally shook her head. She'd have to investigate this later. "I'd like to withdraw from my usual account then."

"Very well," he nodded.

Monday morning she was barreling through the Malfoy Corporation, nearly spitting fire as she glared at his secretary. She was running on pure adrenaline and rage since she'd discovered that morning just what he'd done.

The poor witch gulped upon spotting her coming towards her.

"I'd like to speak with Mr. Malfoy," Hermione nearly growled.

"Uh…uh…yes, one moment, ma'am."

After checking with him, the witch returned and held the door open for her. "He'll see you now, Ms. Granger."

Hermione nodded to the witch and entered his office, locking the door behind her with a flourish of her wand. She stopped behind a chair opposite his desk and braced her hands on the back of it, knuckles turning white as she tried to hold it together.

"Why, Malfoy?"

Draco lifted a cool brow and looked up. He eyed her discreetly from head to toe, amazed to find her looking much as she had just three and a half years ago. Back to her slender form, she was dressed in her work clothes—a no nonsense black pencil skirt and scarlet long-sleeved blouse. He could feel the magic pulsing off of her, even crackling from her tamed curls bouncing about her shoulders.

"Greetings, Hermione. To what do I owe this utterly random and unannounced visit?"

"Cut the rubbish," she hissed, ignoring him using her given name now. What had happened to 'Granger'? "Why do I have another account at Gringotts in my name that you opened?"

"Even after you rejected my offer—"

"It wasn't genuine," she cut him off, waving her hand in dismissal. That bloody ring still sat in her desk drawer collecting dust. She'd never been able to bring herself to look at it again.

He lifted an arrogant brow and continued, "After you rejected my offer, you didn't expect me to contribute to my child's well-being?"

"A child I'm surprised you even acknowledge is yours," she huffed.

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously at that. "I've deposited 5000 galleons a month for the last three and a half years. You should have near 100,000 soon. You act as if you didn't know."

Hermione deflated upon hearing those numbers and slumped into the hard chair opposite his desk. "I didn't. You never said…not that I would have accepted your money anyway."

Draco eyed her critically, "I did tell you. I wrote you a letter a month after I found out you were pregnant and you rejected my offer of marriage."

She paled as she ran the numbers and the time through her mind, recounting where she'd been and what she'd been doing in that timeframe.

"I was out of the country for work. Harry and Ron were getting my mail."

He rolled his eyes at the names of her two best friends. "Hmm, that explains it then. The tossers likely trashed anything I sent you. I'd wondered why you hadn't touched even a sickle or knut of it."

"Why?"

He looked insulted by her question and curled his lip. "Why what? You expected me not to take care of my child?" Truly, marriage had been preferable. He didn't like the fact that the mother of his child was off fending for herself and leaving him to look like a deadbeat but she'd made her preference for him keeping his distance quite clear.

"Fine," she breathed heavily, defeated. "I accept that but it's a bit excessive for one child, Draco."

"And her mother."

"Me," she squeaked in question.

He nodded, a bit confused by her surprise. "Yes. You're the primary caregiver." He scowled and added, "Only because you won't allow me in your life."

She moved to the edge of her seat, a strict finger pointed at him. "You didn't want this!"

Draco shrugged so calmly that she nearly slapped him. Why was he so calm about this?

Some of the coldness bled from his features and he softened his gaze. "Nor did you but it doesn't mean I didn't end up changing my mind. I'm not that much of a heartless snake, Hermione."

She paled further and suddenly felt faint. The way his grey eyes were following her every move, the soft look there that she'd never seen before—Merlin help her but it seemed like he actually cared.

Her mind took a leap of its own and she feared the worst suddenly.

"You're not going to try and take custody from me, are you?"

Draco frowned at that. Did she truly think so little of him? If that had been the case, he'd have taken her to court as soon as she'd had the child.

"No, I would never."

She sagged a little with relief and nodded. "But why me as well?"

He sighed heavily and diverted his gaze to the clock on his wall. He couldn't do this here. Too many boxed up emotions were now bubbling to the surface. She'd not spoken to him since that fateful day in her office and he'd respected her wishes when she sent a plainly worded decline to his offer of marriage to take responsibility for his actions.

On the surface, the letter had been polite but he could read between the lines. It had been a rather eloquent 'fuck you, Malfoy'.

His father had been livid about him proposing but his mother approved. It was only proper. Even his father didn't relish the idea of his grandchild being born out of wedlock. It just wasn't done in pureblood families.

Draco had the internal feeling that it wasn't something Hermione Granger would have ever done either but she had no longer had a choice at that point. She'd been pregnant and trapped.

And he'd mucked everything up that morning after with his defensive efforts to cover up his feelings and reestablish the status quo between them.

When Hermione gave birth in the middle of the night four months later, a snow-white owl woke him with a handwritten note.

It's a girl. Thought you should know.

-G.P.

It was the only scrap of information he'd ever been given about his child. All until now.

After what felt like eternity to Hermione, he finally turned his grey stare back to her.

"Have dinner with me tonight."

It wasn't a question but a demand.

She shook her head, "Why?"

"You want answers and I won't give them to you while I'm on company time. So again, have dinner with me."

Hermione sensed that this wasn't the end of things but only the beginning of her life unraveling after three careful years of keeping it together.

"Fine."

A slight smirk tilted his lips and he nodded. "Seven o'clock. The French restaurant in Diagon Alley."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course he'd pick something elegant that would take her completely out of her comfort zone.

She stood to leave but halted at the door. Something was niggling at the back of her mind. Three and a half years he'd been putting aside money for them, to support them. Nearly a 100,000 galleons for Merlin's sake.

Without turning back to him, her hand still on the knob, she asked, "Would you like to see pictures?"

A lump formed in Draco's throat. "Please," he responded calmly, giving nothing away about the nerves that shot through his body at her offer.

He saw her head bob in acknowledgement and then she was gone.

He slumped over his desk after she shut his door and ran his hands over his face. "Bloody hell," he muttered to himself.

She'd never known about the money. Not one sickle.

Explaining to her parents about meeting Draco for dinner hadn't been easy. Her father was deathly against it but her mother was more encouraging. She thought it might be good to form a more amicable relationship with him so that maybe Rose could get to know him one day if she wanted.

Hermione decided against telling Harry, Ron, or Ginny until she knew what to expect from him. No one needed to get their hopes up of a positive change if there wasn't one. More than likely this would be a one off meeting.

He was seated and waiting for her when she arrived, escorted to the table by the hostess. She tried not to show her surprise when he stood and insisted on helping to remove her coat before seating her.

"Thank you for coming." He offered her a slight, hopeful smile and prayed it looked as genuine as he meant for it to.

Hermione blinked and glanced down at her water glass before shrugging. She'd not taken much time to study him in his office that morning but he'd clearly gone home and changed. Dressed in a sleek three piece suit that looked decidedly muggle, his hair was shorter than when she'd last seen him and brushed away from his face, giving him a more mature look. He'd grown into his pointed features leaving him looking a tad more chiseled.

It unnerved her. She hadn't dated since she'd found out she was pregnant with Rose. Hadn't had the desire. Of course, every time Ginny argued that maybe she should try, she merely smiled and assured her that she had everything she needed in life and was perfectly content.

It was a lie.

There were times when she felt cold and lonely but talked herself out of her self-loathing. She had a beautiful daughter, a fulfilling job, and friends and family. What else did she need?

Romantic love just wasn't a part of the equation for her and she'd come to terms with it.

Shoving aside her thoughts about his appearance, Hermione reached into her bag for the stack of photos she'd gathered from home.

"Where is she tonight," Draco asked, appearing oddly hesitant for a man who'd been confidence personified earlier that day. It wasn't like he through he had the right to ask but he couldn't help but want to know now that she'd walked back into his life.

"She's with my parents," Hermione answered honestly and passed a set of photos across the table. "The muggle ones were taken by my parents," she explained.

Draco took the photos from her gingerly, glancing over her form again discreetly. It was in a moment like this when she was sitting there dressed in an elegant black dress, her slender, pale shoulders on display that he regretted all of his derogatory comments about her appearance the most.

Tearing his focus from her, he felt his breath halt when he first laid eyes on his daughter in the pictures. Familiar pale blonde hair and grey eyes looked back at him. She had Hermione's curls, that was clear, though they seemed better managed than hers had likely been at that age. More like they were now really. Outside of his hair and eyes, she was clearly all Granger. Same nose, same lips, same blushing cheeks.

She was beautiful. Purely beautiful and partly his.

His chest ached at the realization that he'd missed the first three years of her life. He spent most days trying not to think about it much but there hadn't been a day that passed since their meeting in Flourish and Blott's that he'd not thought about the two of them. Thought about what they were doing.

He'd heard from Pansy, who still worked at the Prophet, that Harry Potter paid a rather exorbitant amount of money to keep the rag from printing anything about their daughter. Pansy hadn't been certain if Hermione was aware of it or not but he'd never seen his daughter in print before and found himself thankful for it.

She looked so innocent and angelic. So unlike himself at that age. He'd been a right terror. She deserved a childhood not dogged by the press gossiping about her parents.

Of course, there were whispers in the wizarding community about Hermione Granger's daughter. Her odd features that looked nothing like her mother and curious questions about the absent father. But no one had been bold enough to question the war heroine. Her reputation protected her.

"She's beautiful," Draco finally choked as he stopped on one particular photo. Hermione had caught their daughter waving in a continuous loop.

Hermione licked her lips as she watched him, her heart beating erratically in a way she didn't really understand. Why the hell did it suddenly matter so much what he thought of their daughter? She'd never worried about it before but now she couldn't help but hold her breath and pray he saw what she did when she looked into those innocent eyes every day.

"She looks just like you."

She watched him trail a fingertip across one image and bit her lip against the moisture forming in the corner of her eyes. She wasn't prepared to see him care.

"Just the hair and eyes. She has your curls though." He glanced up finally to find her watching him intently. "What's her name?"

Merlin, he didn't know his own daughter's name. Screw his own father, he was clearly the worst.

Hermione nearly choked on the emotion building in her throat. "Rose. Rose Cassiopeia." She rolled her eyes when his eyes widened in surprise and huffed out a breathy laugh. "A rare moment of hysteria post-labor."

Draco nodded but didn't comment on it. He wasn't here to mock or insult her. He'd grown past that really. If she still hated him, and he wouldn't doubt that she did, he deserved it. Insulting her and pushing her away would just be childish now. It was wrong back then, too.

He'd had time to think all day. Truly, he'd accomplished next to nothing after her surprise visit and instead mulled over just what to say to the mother of his only child.

He'd not really dated after learning about her pregnancy. A few dinners here and there and his father had begged and pleaded with him to propose to Astoria Greengrass but he just couldn't do it.

Every time he thought of tying himself down to a woman all he could see was brown eyes the color of dark chocolate and curls that felt like silk in his hands. He had phantom memories of the way she felt that night, drunk or not, and he knew exactly what had gotten them into that situation.

They'd both been rather pissed drunk but she'd been there looking bloody angelic and tempting all at once, and for some stupid reason she took the bait when he came onto her. He'd always wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Always wanted to know if she'd be as fiery in bed as she was when he ignited her temper.

And both had blown his mind. He was cursed with reliving the memory every time he considered the idea of tying himself to another.

Conversation was stilted until their meals arrived, Draco's attention still glued to the photos. Hermione was rather enthralled with watching the changing expressions on his face. Honest smiles that she'd never witnessed before from him surprised her but oddly sent a small tingle of warmth through her heart.

"You can have this one," she offered a copy of the one taken by her mother showing Rose learning to swing on a swing set in the park near her childhood home.

Draco set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin as he eyed the photo like it were the Hogwarts house cup. "You're sure?"

She nodded, "I have copies at home. My mum would want you to have it." She shook her head. She'd hardly been able to touch her food. "She thinks…it might be a good idea if we maybe…"

"I'll do anything," he interrupted her.

He really didn't care how desperate he looked or sounded. Seeing those pictures, knowing her name—he just couldn't go on pretending she wasn't his. His pride had been wounded when she'd rejected his offer of marriage but he wasn't strong enough now to pretend he hadn't seen her.

Hermione swallowed and nodded. "I'll think on it." She replaced the other photos in her bag as she faced him. "She does know about you. I've never lied to her. Especially not when she's reading anything she can get her hands on."

Draco's brows lifted high on his head. "She's reading already? She's only three!"

A slight smirk lifted one corner of her mouth and she shrugged. "I started reading when I was three. She's right on schedule."

He shook his head in awe and reached for his fork again. Unlike her, if he stuffed his mouth he had more time to think through his words more carefully instead of uttering something entirely badly worded.

"Of course, she is your daughter and you're bloody brilliant."

Hermione had the grace to flush at his compliment; at least she thought it was one. He'd smiled instead of smirked when he said it at least.

"You never answered my question from earlier," she reminded him suddenly.

"Which one?"

"Why were you putting away money for both of us? Why not just her?"

Draco sat back and pushed his plate away. It was a difficult question with an answer he still wasn't certain of but he'd try. He'd try in order to earn the right to meet his daughter. Whatever it took to redeem himself even the slightest.

"You'd rejected me but…I couldn't fathom not taking care of you as well." He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "The marriage offer wasn't just for the baby, Hermione. I know I was a bastard that morning and I said some vile shit to you. I apologize now if I haven't before. I was insecure."

Hermione's eyes widened at his confession. "Excuse me? Insecure?"

He nodded and reached for his water glass as his throat had gone suddenly dry. "Yes. History defines us and you have always bested me. Not just in grades but in human decency. You were better than me. I was below you and for once acknowledged it. I was afraid that if I didn't attack you then you'd get me first. Remind me what a mistake you'd made by sleeping with me."

"What on earth are you talking about," she whispered. He wasn't making any sense.

"I can't say I'd been harboring a deep crush on your something. But I'd noticed you in our latter years at Hogwarts. I'm a prick but I'm not blind," he roved his eyes over her pointedly. "I wasn't the first nor the last curious about what it would be like to shag you. And then I'd done it and after my part in the war…I knew immediately that you'd hate yourself and me for it. I was prideful. So I hurt you before you could hurt me."

Hermione couldn't believe what he was saying to her. Worse still, he seemed genuine. No smirking or scowling.

She sighed, "You're an idiot."

Draco squinted at her, "I thought we covered that already."

She glanced at her watch and realized they'd been there for two hours already and she really needed to get back to her parents' house to pick up Rose.

"Thank you…for everything but I really need to go." She noted his alarmed expression as she stood to put on her coat. "It's past Rose's bedtime and she's a right little terror to get to fall back asleep when I pick her up and try to put her back to bed."

How odd to see him relax at that explanation. Clearly, he thought he'd upset her but right now all she could say was that she was terribly confused.

Draco tossed more than enough galleons on the table to cover their bill and escorted her out of the restaurant.

They stopped a block down the street at the nearest apparition point and turned to face each other.

"Thanks," Draco patted his chest where he'd tucked the picture, "for this."

Hermione offered him a small smile and nodded. "You're welcome."

He swallowed hard before he asked his next question. "Do you think…maybe one day you'll let me meet her? I'd never take her away from you, Hermione. I swear on my wand."

She bit her lip and nodded. "One day, probably. Just…give me a little time to digest this all if you can."

"Of course," he nodded. His heart leapt as she began to turn away from him. Without thinking, he grabbed her arm and tugged her back. "Just one more thing."

Hermione watched in confusion as his hands came up to her face. His warm palms cradled her cheeks and before she could protest, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers gently.

Fire flooded her body from the point of contact all the way to her extremities. The sound of his soft sigh made her chest clench oddly and she shivered when he tugged her lower lip between his, giving it a soft suck before he pulled back nearly as quickly.

Draco stared down at her astonished face, too shocked to react. He smirked at that but it wasn't menacing. "Sorry, but I had to know."

Hermione opened her mouth for clarification but he was gone with a loud crack.

"Bloody hell," she muttered and reached up to touch her lips with her fingertips.