I took today off to go to the doctor. There's something really disconcerting when he tells you repeatedly "yeah, we don't know why the blood does that." Oh, my bad, I thought that was your job. Silly me. Anyhow, I need a distraction from thinking about that visit. Fingers crossed, some reviews will help with that.

Chapter 12
There was a happy tune on Draco's lips as he entered the office early in the morning. There were few others in, but one caught his eye. The whistling ended and his gray eyes widened momentarily at the irate glare his father shot his way. Schooling his features to that of detached interest, he strode down the hallway, opened his door, and settled in before addressing Lucius.

"Good morning, Father. Your grandson drew you a lovely picture, but I've unfortunately forgotten it at home," Draco stated. It had been years since father and son had maintained a good relationship. The years and Lucius's desire to serve the Dark Lord had driven a wedge between them from the time Draco was a teenager. Draco blamed his father for the ugly black mark he still bore on his left forearm.

It was years later when he announced his divorce from his pregnant wife, Astoria, that the wedge parted further into a chasm. The Greengrass family was wealthy and still held a high position in society thanks in part to their neutrality during the Second Wizarding War. Lucius had hoped that their association with the family would bolster the Malfoy reputation, but Draco's decision to sever ties threw up a roadblock in his plan.

"I've been informed the mudblood is residing with you," Lucius drawled, making himself comfortable in the seat across from his son's desk.

Leaning back, Draco crossed his arms over his chest and flashed his father a contemplative look. "Mudblood, mudblood," he pondered. "Can't say I know a mudblood."

"Do not play cute, Draco," the older man chastised. "It did not work when you were a little boy and it won't work now. This family has an image in need of repair, and you parading around with a mudblood who is pregnant with another man's baby will not suffice. This little Weasley bastard will not ruin what we have worked so hard for."

"And how will Hermione's child do that?" Draco inquired, leaning forward to glare menacingly. "Last I checked, the Malfoy approval rating inched a bit higher when we gave her her research grant. Don't you think that being seen helping her in her current condition will warm people to us? The benevolent Malfoys helping the down on her luck muggleborn."

Blond eyebrows piqued with interest as Lucius listened to Draco's rationale. He nodded approvingly. Perhaps his son was more like him than he'd thought. "I trust you won't get attached to this girl, but I fear Scorpius may," Lucius warned.

Draco smiled. "My son is a Malfoy through and through. I wouldn't worry."

Placated by his son's response, Lucius nodded and left the office. Draco breathed a sigh of great relief once he was alone. Checking that the lock was securely in place, he grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the hearth. After dusting off the ashes and soot, he ran up the stairs to Hermione's room.

The door was slightly ajar, and from where he stood, he could just make out his son's back as he handed her a book. "Read this one," he requested before shoving aside the small pile. Draco caught Hermione's smile as she took the book and beckoned him closer. Just as Hermione opened the book, Draco made his presence known by clearing his throat.

"Quiet, Daddy, my Mimi's reading," Scorpius admonished. He tugged on her sleeve to give her the go-ahead to continue.

"Bit early to be back, isn't it?" Hermione questioned, smiling at the wizard in her doorway.

"Could we talk? Just you and me," he asked, sending Scorpius a pointed look that it was time to leave. Huffing, the little boy slid off the bed and marched out of the room. "He's not bothering you, is he? Greta should be watching him. It's what I pay her for."

"He's fine," she assured him, frowning when she noticed he still stood in the doorway. She extended her hand, silently asking him to come closer. A smile returned once he complied and sat by her side, their fingers laced together. "You know, Scorpius told me that when you're at work, he's the man of the house. And as man of the house, it's his duty to make sure that I'm alright. He gave me his dragon for protection."

"He likes you," Draco commented. "I gave him that the day he came home from the hospital, and he hasn't let it go since."

Giving his fingers a comforting squeeze, she asked, "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Sighing, Draco diverted his gaze and told her about the conversation he'd had with his father. Everything that was said he relayed to the witch by his side. "I just...I wanted you to hear it from me, and know that none of my actions have been duplicitous. My father still views the world as he did before the war, and I doubt that'll ever change. But you know I don't see things that way anymore, right?"

It was then he chanced at a look at Hermione who wore a rather calm look. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "How is it possible I never thought of that?"

"Because we trust each other," he offered. "I know exactly how I feel about you, Hermione. Not once since our friendship began did I think about the Malfoy public image. I've thought only of you and the baby, and how you fit so perfectly in Scorpius's and my life. Besides my son, you're the only person I care about."

Hermione sniffled and tightened her grip on his fingers. She had felt quite the same way about Draco and Scorpius, often wondering what it would be like if she were a member of their family. And then she felt guilty for wishing her daughter had Draco for a father instead of Ron. Draco had proven time and time again that he was interested in being a part of her life, and she wanted him there.

And so Hermione said the first words her brain could form - "I love you."

Grinning, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to hers. "I love you too."