"Draco!"
Draco's eyes flew open and saw his mother standing at the foot of his bed looking quite frazzled.
"What's wrong?" he rasped, his voice gravelly from sleep.
"That horrid Weasley girl has just Floo-ed in and is yelling like a madwoman for you!" Narcissa exclaimed with her hands waving about. "You know…Harry Potter's wife; Pansy's sister-in-law."
Draco frowned in confusion. Sure, he sent the letter pretty late last night, but was it really necessary to for the woman to show up shouting obscenities. Had she no self-control?
Throwing off his bed covers, he shooed his mother away so he could quickly wash and dress. He ventured down the hallway, passing his son in the process who was rubbing his tiny fists into his eyes.
"Father, I thought I heard yelling," the boy grumbled sleepily.
Draco patted his Scorpius on the head and bent down to kiss his forehead.
"It's alright, my boy. Go get washed and dressed, and I'll have Mippy make some eggs for you this morning. Would you like that?"" The older Malfoy mumbled into the younger one's hair.
Scorpius sullenly nodded and raised his arms, indicating he wanted to be held. Despite being pressed for time, (there were few things worse than keeping a Weasley waiting but not many), Draco scooped up his son and held him, pressing a kiss to his round cheek. The boy dropped his head on his father's shoulder, and Draco smiled at the deep sigh his son out, the puff of breath breezing past his neck. The man was almost tempted to bring him with to meet Ginny, knowing she would not have the heart to hex him with an adorable child in his arms.
Draco rubbed his hand on the boy's back and heard and felt a yawn escape the youngster's mouth.
"I love you, Daddy," Scorpius whispered. The tightening in his chest that seemed to get more and more taught each second he thought about Hermione, loosened at the simple yet powerful declaration from his boy.
"I love you, too," he said as he laid another kiss on the boy's cheek.
"Don't leave me like Mummy did."
"I'll never leave," Draco promised, rubbing the side of his face against the boy's bedhead. "You'll never be able to get rid of me.
A treacherously, deep sadness overcame Draco. His son's plea had completely pulverized him. However, the sadness only lasted moments before scalding anger replaced it. He cursed Astoria for leaving their son. Draco could handle the woman leaving him. He had reckoned not long after their nuptials she would eventually, but it irked him terribly she left Scorpius. Not that he would let the woman take his son with her forever, but she should have stuck around for some negotiating and at least pretend to care about her progeny. Draco huffed and was glad he and his wife only had one child; however, he could not help but scold himself for not even trying in their joke of a marriage. His and Astoria's wedding vows were a nicety and had both known it. Their marriage was about respect and conceiving a Pureblood male heir to eventually inherit the Malfoy money.
Draco may have never loved his wife, but he respected her and did like her in some ways. She was a warm body to cuddle up to at night and was pretty but not the smoothest wand in the shop. He never made her feel insecure about her lack of sense and always tried to be considerate; though, she often forgot a lot of important things like birthdays, specifically her son's. In Scorpius' life, his mother had only attended one of his birthdays and that was his first because she needed to be close by for the Pureblood duty of breastfeeding. The five birthdays before this past one, she forgot and Draco believed it. She had no sense for time or dates because Astoria refused to be bothered with someone else's schedule. Not even her son's. She operated the way she did because no one taught her to think any different. The girl's mum was the same way.
"Go get dressed." Draco set his son down on the floor who looked up at with big eyes and a protruding bottom lip. "None of that now."
"Okay," sighed his son and disappear into his bedroom.
Divorce papers and Scorpius clogging his mind, Draco albeit screamed when a vibrantly dangerous spark whizzed past him upon entering the Main Room. There stood Ginny Potter looking capable of homicide. Her ginger hair, swept back into a messy ponytail, matched the color of her normally pale skin. A simple grey button up sweater adorned her arms with a yellow shirt underneath, finished off with those trending Muggle jeans everyone seemed to be wearing.
The wizard's eyes narrowed on the tummy bump Mrs. Potter was sporting. She had to be about four to five months along. Was this number three for her and Potter?
"Please refrain from killing me in my own home, Mrs. Potter." Draco sauntered over to the growling witch. As he grew closer, the woman's grip on her wand tightened, the skin of her hand turning white from lack of circulation.
"Malfoy, I've come kill you! I bloody don't care if I spill your incestuous, bigoted blood all across the property!" she hissed out between gritted teeth.
Draco paused in mid-step at her plan, taken aback by her fury. Yes, the Owl probably woke her up, but that was no reason to take a life in such a graphic way.
"I know it was late. I shouldn't have sent the letter last night. I should have waited," said Draco in a calm and slow voice, the witch bristling and baring her teeth at his words.
"This isn't about the late Owl, you arse!" she forced out harshly making Draco's brows scrunch towards each other. "This is about Hermione!"
"Oh. I suppose your brother or Pansy told you that I spoke to her the other day and-"
"Spoke to her?!" the woman spat and cackled in lunacy causing Draco to take a step back and swallow.
"Uh…"
"Spoke to her?!" she repeated and sucked in a breath like she was preparing to verbally dig into Draco's flesh. He took another step back, and Ginny took a step forward.
"Hermione and I had breakfast early this morning. We often get together when we can, and she tells me everything, you know? I'm her best friend. She tells me about books, clothes, hair products, and men." She paused and shot him a scathing look, and he knew where this was going. He stole glances to his sides, trying to find route for escaping.
"I must admit, Malfoy, Hermione has had quite the number of conquests within the last decade. I don't necessarily approve of her willingness or her penchant for cheating, but she's a grown woman and can make her own choices no matter how debauched they are. Furthermore, she tells me all about the men she's taken home. Some good, some bad, some okay, and some horrid." Ginny gave him a pointed look, and Draco was insulted. He was not horrid! He was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake!
"So to my surprise, she tells me she was eating ice cream last night in her favorite Muggle parlor when lo and behold a Mr. Draco Malfoy happens to shows up with obvious intention to bed her. And yes, she told me all about how you came into her bookstore the other day."
"I had no intention to bed Hermione," Draco defended weakly and earned an eye roll from Ginny who lowered her wand and crossed her arms.
"I don't believe you."
"She propositioned me and was quick to, may I add?"
Ginny stared at him for a moment before nodding gently. "Fine, but that doesn't excuse you for going along with it. You had no business in talking to her, Malfoy. You gave up that right a long time ago."
"Why doesn't she remember me?" Draco asked quietly causing Ginny stiffen.
"I can't tell you that," she replied in a whisper, shaking her head solemnly. Her demeanor was starting to lax, all the anger and yelling tuckering out her pregnant body quickly.
"Please." Draco chanced a step toward the witch who threatened to kill him only moments before. Her light brown eyes, which had been staring off into some distant corner, snapped back to him. She clenched her teeth together and stood rigid, her eyes hardening once more.
"You know, Malfoy. You hurt her a lot when you broke things off with her, and if I ever find out you went near her again, they will never find your body." Ginny lifted her wand threateningly. "I promise you that."
Draco watched Ginny leave. When she disappeared through the Floo, he let out a deep breath and ran an aggravated hand through his hair. He turned to walk towards his office, needing to assemble his briefcase before going into work, his thoughts a million miles away from his occupation, though. He was actually mulling over what happened with Weasley and what happened with Hermione and decided he had no intention of ever contacting the former again. Not just because her best friend threatened to kill him but because Ginny had been promising to do that for years. Draco merely didn't care to be around around his ex-girlfriend anymore. The thought made him queasy. Hermione was too different, too slaggy, too forward, too…blonde. Even the way she shagged was different. Not terrible, just not like the witch he knew. This Hermione had been aggressive and loud with no indication she wanted post-coital cuddles which was very unlike the old Hermione. The old Hermione was pure, sweet, and gentle. She basked in the lovemaking kind of intercourse and remembered every time he had wanted a little love from her, he had to go through the process of seduction. She made him earn it every. Single. Time. Sure, it had frustrated him endlessly, but he had loved himself stupid about her. He turned into a bleeding moron who recited ooey-gooey poetry and spread rose petals on silk sheets, only to get fully clothed snuggles from her half the time.
Draco gagged at the memory. The only reason he let himself get so Hufflepuff about the relationship was because of Hermione's taste in romance who basked in the slow seduction process and would succumb to his advances at her decided pace. Merlin, he had loved her and loved sex and was faithful, so he had to make do with Hermione's fickle 'permission to enter sometimes' technique.
Hermione had been difficult to bed, but Draco had been fine with that for the most part. It meant that she saw sex with him as a special occasion and took her relationship with him with whole-hearted seriousness. By making him earn a shag rather than simply dishing it out often made him appreciate her and their sex life in return.
No, he would not contact Hermione again. However, he was still going to find out why she did not remember him.
Seven weeks later…
"So, do you have any New Year Resolutions planned, Draco?" asked Pansy as he adjusted her one month old baby in a blanket.
"Not really," Draco distractedly replied while tapping the tip of his quill on the parchment before him.
"You should make some," she suggested and held out the baby towards him across from his desk. Pansy had decided to visit him during his lunch, bringing him a turkey sandwich, fruit, and pudding. "Do you want to hold her?"
"A byproduct of a Weasley and a Parkinson, I think not." Draco feigned horror, earning a glare from her.
"C'mon, Draco. She's darling. I've waited so long and finally got my girl. She's perfect, aren't you, Hunny Bunny? Huh? Huh?" Pansy cooed and snuggled her face into the infant's neck and inhaled deeply before planting wet smooches on the soft newborn skin. The baby slept through her mother's affection, causing a snort to erupt from the Draco.
"I better not. I don't want that oaf of a husband of yours casting a Slicing Hex on my hands for daring to touch his precious newborn princess with my disgusting Death Eater digits."
Pansy rolled her eyes and wrapped her lips around the top of the baby's left ear and nibbled. Draco narrowed his eyes at the action. "What are you doing?"
"I can't help it, Draco. Babies make women do weird things. It's all instinct, so don't think I've gone mental or something"
"You have, hello. Did you not give birth to your seventh child a month ago?"
"I really wanted a girl," Pansy defended with a snarl before transforming her features into happy, awestruck face at her daughter. "And you were worth the wait, weren't you, Rosie Posy?"
"Merlin, Avada me now." Draco muttered and cast his gaze to the ceiling.
"Oh, hush! Like you don't go gaga over Scorpius?" Pansy shot back and then sighed. "How is he taking Astoria's never-ending absence, by the way?"
"He's quiet about it, actually. I can tell he misses her, but I'm confident he will be okay. She was always gone, anyway. This will just be more…permanent."
Pansy nodded her head in silence and cast her gaze elsewhere. "Okay then, I've just made everything incredibly awkward, so I'm going to go and bother Ronald at his work. Molly's watching the kids, so I'm going to bask in the few moments I have with silence and conversations that don't involve me screaming my head off at the boys."
Draco waved goodbye as Pansy snuggly embraced her baby to her chest.
"You will be at the New Year's Party, right?" Draco asked her and she nodded with a smile before Disapparating.
Draco leaned back into his chair and turned his attention to the papers before him. He rubbed his chin in thought. Simply extracting memories and storing them would not work. There were too many of them and would leave gaps. Some of Hermione's Hogwarts history would not make sense to her if that happened. Besides, who would go through the trouble of doing that? The person would have to do Legilimency on her to know which memory to extract and an Obliviate would not work. It could not erase a single person from one's history. It had to be the work of a potion.
Draco messaged his jaw pensively and exhaled loudly.
Perhaps Hermione had been in a potion brewing accident of some kind.
Draco tapped his quill again and scratched the top of his head, making his hair stick out in disarray.
If it was an accident while brewing a potion, to cause memory loss, those ingredients would most likely be found in Knockturn Alley or out of the country.
Draco had lightly studied the Dark Arts but had not practiced in well over a decade. Nevertheless, he knew it was nearly impossible to get accidental memory loss from a potion unless the brewer was purposely brewing a controversial concoction. Hermione would have had to illegally obtain the ingredients and assemble them, but she would have never done that. If by the small chance in in a cold retched hell she had, she would have done it right. She was impeccable at Potions, so her memory loss was no accident. Someone had done this to her on purpose, but the questions were who and why and to gain what exactly? Draco also needed the name of the specific potion Hermione had ingested, so he could brew a counteragent if there was one. Ron and Pansy could go fly a faulty broom for all he cared. It was not better that she couldn't remember him because if he had to have the memories, Hermione should have them, too. Besides, it would be like curing her from a disease. Having memory loss is always upsetting. She'd be so grateful to remember. They may be even able to become sort of friends.
The memory cure would maybe, but unlikely, change the witch's wild ways, and Draco was still squeamish about the woman. He was fine with curing her and sending her on her way. She'd leave soon—open a bookstore some place, somewhere—and they would probably Owl each other like at Christmas and birthdays. If she ever found a bloke who could persuade her to settle the hell down and be faithful to, he may even get an announcement or perhaps an invite to the wedding. Hell, he might even actually go and shake the groom's hand.
But first things first, Draco needed to see someone who specialized in Potions.