Draco stared blankly at the eggs, bacon, and toast on his plate while Scorpius dug into his breakfast with gusto. The eldest Malfoy was aware that the food tasted good, but his appetite was gone. Thinking of Hermione and the disaster they let happen had literally sickened him. Great Gods, he stomach felt like stretched out rubber-band. One more tug in two opposite directions and...

He snorted.

What a bloody fantastic way to start the New Year.

"Draco?" his mother asked as she dabbed her lips with a napkin. "You seem to be distracted. Is everything all right? You were rather quiet last night after the party. I saw you talking to Blaise and go outside for a bit."

Draco ran a hand through his hair and shook his head from left to right, grateful that his mother had not seen Hermione at all during the party.

"Everything's fine, Mum," he lied. "I'm fine. I just drank too much last night."

Narcissa sniffed, telling Draco she did not believe him. She sipped at her morning tea and excused herself from the table. With her absence, he felt more comfortable rehashing in his mind what happened the previous night.

"Hermione, you need to get back inside. You'll catch your death."

She shook her head and stepped forward. "No, I have to talk to you. It's important," she said and shivered. Draco growled and stalked towards her, gripping her arm below her bare shoulders. Her skin was still a bit warm, and he was close enough to see that her eyes were bloodshot and teary. Worry ebbed at him some but not enough to deter him away from what he wanted which was Hermione out of the Manor and out of his life.

"It's freezing out here. Let's go inside." Draco tried to push her towards the house, but she stood firm.

"No. This has to be private," she insisted while shrugging his hands away her shoulders. Rubbing where his hands had dwelt, Draco saw her facial muscled contort into a half-grimace, like she was somewhat repulsed by him touching her.

"We can talk later. I'm sure your boyfriend Adrian is looking for you. It's unkind to abandon your boyfriend, Miss Granger," he told her without trying to sound bitter. Draco briefly wondered if Pucey was the beau she mention when he had been on his way out of her apartment after their brief, and somewhat embarrassing, night together.

"He's a big boy, and he's not my boyfriend. He can fend for himself for the rest of the night. I only accepted his request for a date tonight because what I need to tell you is important. I suppose I could have told you by Owl, but this is something that needs to be done in person."

A very unpleasant sensation pooled burningly at the bottom of stomach, foretelling of what the witch was about to say was surely going to make him regret not jumping off the balcony when he had the chance. He vaguely heard the crowd in the Reception Hall chanting the ten second countdown until New Years.

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

"Hermione…" Draco began, wariness laced in his tone.

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"I'm pregnant, and it's yours," Hermione said and then took a step back before turning around and dashing back into the Reception Hall, disappearing into the crowd.

"Happy New Year!"

With a frustrated growl, Draco tossed his fork onto his plate causing a sharp clank to echo through the dining room. Scorpius jolted in his seat and licked the egg yolk from his lips nervously, avoiding eye contact with his irate father.

Draco would have sent his son an apologetic look if he could manage one, but he was too upset. He shoved his full plate towards the middle of the table and left to do some work, needing something to distract himself. The Malfoy office building was closed for the holiday, so he worked from his home. Or he tried. Important papers screaming at him about important things were scattered about his desk, but his focus was shot to bleedin' hell. Granger was pregnant, and he was the father supposedly. Of course, she could very well be lying about the parentage. She had a boyfriend—who was not Pucey! She was also undoubtedly a slag. But…why would she lie? Blackmail? Money? She had money. From the looks of her apartment, though clean and spacious, lacked materialistic objects. She was not greedy by any means, and was not the type to trap him in a marriage. From what little he knew of this Hermione, she was not the type to settle down. And bloody hell, he saw that torturous expression on her face. She was distraught about being pregnant, and that scared Draco even more. She might terminate the pregnancy which was unsettling to him and illegal in Magical Britain. It wasn't in Muggle Britain, though.

Adoption was always a more acceptable option and less unsettling, but Draco had to keep in mind that there was the chance that Hermione might want to keep the baby. She was thirty-one years old and unmarried. She may realize that she had only a few years left to produce a healthy child with fewer fetal risks. If she chose that route, then he might have to stick his head in the kid's life every now and then and bestow some fatherly wisdom because who knew if the child would be getting any from Hermione if she didn't change her ways. He will also have to set up some sort of inheritance for the child. Essentially, Scorpius will get the lot, but even a bastard child gets a sickle.

Draco hoped for a girl. Well…hoped was a strong word. He hoped this whole thing was a nightmare, and he'd wake up soon. A girl would be less messy in long run. Higher maintenance, yes, but easier to deal with legally. She would be unable to claim any right to the Malfoy inheritance. Whatever she was given, is what she would receive. End of story.

Draco dug out a clean sheet of parchment paper, dabbed his quill in some ink, and set to work. Once finished, he folded up the letter, sealed it with the Malfoy logo, and summoned Mippy to deliver it to the Owlery.

Later that evening, after running a few errands with his mum and Scorpius, Mippy delivered him his daily Owls. While sorting through them, he paused on a letter from Hermione. With haste, he tore open the envelope and read:

Muriel's Ice Cream Parlor at 9:30 P.M.

-H

That blasted, tightening sensation filled Draco again, almost releasing an acidy aftershock. The letter was so impersonal and cold. He checked his clock and blast! He was ten minutes late!

Tugging on his cloak, he Apparated into an ally close to the ice cream parlor and went inside to find Hermione sitting rigid and indifferent. When her eyes met with his, her demeanor did not change. There was no ice cream in front of her, but the letter he sent that morning was. It was open and appeared to have been scrunched up a bit. Hesitantly, Draco took a seat across from her. The frosty, brown eyes of the witch cut into him mercilessly. She was not there for to satiate her sweet tooth. Draco got the vibe she was a hippogriff's hair away from reaching over the table slitting his throat.

"What is this?" she asked, her head nodding down at the parchment before her.

"A letter," Draco answered carefully.

"Why did you send it?" Her head cocked to the side and her eyes narrowed behind the dark framings of her glasses.

"We need to discuss options while we still can, Miss Granger."

Hermione leaned back in her chair and folded her arms and tilted her chin up. "There was no we in your letter, Mr. Malfoy. There was you and your options."

"I…just need to know if you plan on keeping the child," Draco defended and jumped a little when Hermione quickly snatched up the letter in her hand and began to read aloud:

"Dear Hermione Granger,

There is much to discuss about the child you are currently carrying. If you have plans to terminate the pregnancy, please inform me. If you are open to an adoption process, I can assist you. If you choose to keep the child, it will be necessary to inform me, so I can make immediate financial plans regarding you and the child. Due to the infant's status of being illegitimate, I cannot promise a large inheritance for him or her, especially since I already have my heir. However, I can provide the best schooling and childhood a bastard progeny can ask for.

I still have much to discuss with you.

-D.M."

"How dare you?" Hermione scoffed and shook her head from side to side like she couldn't believe who she was sitting with was actually passing off for human

"I do not see the problem with the letter. Everything in that letter is important, and we have much to talk about," Draco said.

"No, we really don't."

"The child-"

"Is none of your concern," Hermione finished.

"Like hell! Unless the it isn't really mine. Then by all means, I will leave." Draco made a notion to leave by standing up from his chair. Hermione followed suit.

"No," she hissed and slung her purse over her shoulder. "I will leave, but before I do, I need to say that the only reason I told you about the baby was because you had a right to know. But you need not worry your precious self concerning the affairs of the child. I don't need your financial plans, Mr. Malfoy, and I will not on any terms tell you whether I choose to follow through with the pregnancy, give the baby up, or keep the baby. We had a night of fun...if you can call it that. But like you said, you already have an heir. You also have a wife, and I'm not interested in being a fulltime mistress nor a skeleton in the closet, especially when it's you. Now goodnight, Mr. Malfoy and have a great life."

She went to leave, but Draco shot his arm out to take a hold of her forearm to prevent her from doing so. Her vision flew to the offending hand gripping her limb tightly and then to his face. Fury creasing her brow, she tried to pull her arm away.

"Let go of me," she hissed.

"No. You are going to listen to what I have to say."

"Merlin, you have more?" She rolled her eyes and then pinned her glare back on him. "You have shit to say, and I don't care for it. Let me go. If you don't, I will cause a scene. I will yell rape. I'll scream murder, and I will make sure you are toted off to the most decrepit, health-hazardous, Muggle jail cell in London. So let me g- "

Draco growled and tightened his hold on her arm, his vision tunneling and narrowing at her snarling lips. With a violent tug, he reeled her towards him and crashed his lips to hers, and she tasted of peppermint tea and strawberries. He heard muffled whines of protest and ignored the pressing of her palms on his shoulders. He pressed into her form, so she was flush against his and pried her mouth open, his tongue properly probing and tasting. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled the morsel gently. Her protests turn to small whimpers of acceptance, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and rose up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss.

Draco's brain was turning to mush much like it had when Hermione invited him over to her place two-months prior. Her lips were amazingly soft and pliant, and she was so warm, and her scent was driving him around the twist just like it used to so many years before. Her smell was different from ten years ago, but it was equally intoxicating.

"Ahem," came from beside them. Draco pulled away and sort of wondered if he had a stupid 'duh' look on his face and turned to the intruder. It was a stout, Muggle man dressed in an ill-fitted, ice cream parlor uniform complete with the striped, paper hat and a badge that stated he was Manager.

"You can't do that here. This is a child friendly environment," he explained timidly, a blush tinting his plump cheeks. Draco heard little giggles that could only belong to youngsters and with a nod of understanding, he gripped Hermione's forearm once more and guided her compliant self out of the shop. The moment they were off the property and starting their way down the sidewalk, Draco peered at her with her fogged up glasses and shallow breaths. Her lips were puffy and wet causing Draco to toss all thought and reason out the window and lunge at her again and, Merlin, she was so warm. The frigid, London air was unmerciful, so he pressed against her to feel more of that heat.

"This is a bad idea. You're a bad man," Hermione murmured, pulling away for just long enough to speak before sealing their lips together once more.

"Your place?" Draco noised against her mouth.