A/N: Thank you for all the comments and likes! Fair warning, the angst/hurt/comfort is kicking up a notch. But this fic is also very much a HEA so stick with me :)
*Trigger Warnings: Implied/mentions of fertility issues/pregnancy and infant loss.
*Trigger Warning for misogynistic language.
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…
Watching Hermione's neighbourhood disappear into the distance left Draco feeling nervous. Leaving the safety of the Granger's home, while already feeling emotionally raw, had him nervously fiddling with the fob, continually opening and closing it. His mind was rapidly coming up with far too many worst-case scenarios – all of which included the thought that his parents were dead.
Draco flinched slightly when he felt Hermione's hand gently cover his own. "Are you sure you're alright?" she whispered.
Thankfully, Mr Granger and Theo were distracted, trying to agree on what song should kick off their road trip, with Mrs Granger shuffling through a strange book, giving her opinion.
"I – I'm worried something terrible happened to them," he said softly. Hermione then closed her hand over his.
As worried as Draco was over his parents' fate, the fact that he was fucking holding Hermione's hand for the second time within the week had his stomach fluttering. Of course, he knew she was simply being kind – being a friend – but still, he smiled at her anyway.
"Oh, that's a good one!" said Theo as Mrs Granger inserted a flat circular device she called a CD into a slot.
"I've got the vinyl back in my collection," said Mr Granger. "I'll have to show you boys some time."
"I'd really like that, Mr Granger," said Theo earnestly.
"Eh - call me David. My father is Mr Granger, and he's a cun –" Mrs Granger elbowed her husband in the side. "He's got his issues," he corrected.
"My father has a lot of issues, too, Mr Gra – David," said Theo.
The music began to play, and Draco's stomach flipped at the familiar sound.
"I know this song. It's about the Vikings," he blurted as the familiar Led Zeppelin tune began to play.
"Ah, yeah? Immigrant Song is great," said Mr Granger excitedly. "I was obsessed with Led Zep when I was your age — still am, to be honest. Got my first album for my seventeenth birthday back in '70."
"My mother gave my father a Led Zeppelin record for Christmas. I have it now," Draco said without thinking.
"Really?" said Mr Granger curiously. "I didn't peg your parents as the sort."
Draco looked at Hermione and Theo, who both nodded, encouraging him to speak.
"My birth parents."
Mrs Granger subtly turned down the music. "I didn't realise you were adopted, Draco."
"Oh, I –" he looked at his friends again while Hermione squeezed his hand in support.
"It's okay," she said softly.
"I'm honestly not sure what happened. My Wizarding parents don't know that I know the truth. Hermione and I discovered that my – my parents aren't my actual parents. I'm not really Draco Malfoy. I'm Draco Malmström."
The two adults sat for a few seconds in contemplative silence.
"Your research club, then?" asked Mr Granger in understanding.
"Yes, we've been trying to find them. Trying to understand what happened," said Hermione.
"They're Muggles," added Draco, feeling more confident in sharing his secret. "Daniel and Alma Malmström."
"So, you're a proper Viking," said Mr Granger with a small smile. "Malmström — that's Swedish, right?"
"Yes, sir," said Draco. "My mother," he said as he handed the fob to Mrs Granger. "Someone has been gifting me a few of their belongings over the years. I got the pocket watch when I turned fourteen, and then I got my father's journal last month when I turned fifteen. I've been translating it every night in your study," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all, Dragon boy," said Mr Granger.
"She's beautiful – I can see the resemblance," said Mrs Granger as she tilted the photo of Alma so Mr Granger could see.
"I'm worried something bad happened to them," Draco confessed. "I think they were – are – good people. From what my father's journal indicated, at least. It ended five years before I was born."
The mood in the car took a downward shift as Mrs Granger gave Draco back his pocket watch. "If you need anything, please let us know, Draco. I know Mr Granger, and I would be happy to help you find them – find out what happened."
"And if you don't feel safe at home, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you need," added Mr Granger. Draco simply nodded and sat back in his seat, trying not to get emotional. It was evident that Mr Granger quickly picked up on the nature of Lucius Malfoy, and knowing he didn't have to go back to the manor was comforting. Although, he still felt some sadness about leaving his mother – Narcissa, that is – in the manor alone. She'd sent him an owl a few days prior, asking how he was doing and telling him how much she missed him.
It was confusing.
"Gimme that one," said Mr Granger, jutting his chin towards Mrs Granger's lap where the CD book was still open.
"David –" she started.
"Come on, Mena," he said playfully.
"This might be borderline offensive to assume –"
"Oh, hush," Mr Granger laughed as he reached his hand over, only for Mrs Granger to swat it away.
"You focus on the road – let me do it," she said as she took out the Led Zeppelin CD and inserted a different one. She pressed a button, and suddenly the breathy sound of a woman's voice, followed by strange instruments, began to play.
"Dad –" Hermione groaned.
"Come on, Minny! He's got to learn about his own culture," laughed Mr Granger as Hermione put her head in her hands in embarrassment.
"Please stop –" she groaned again, but Mr Granger waved his hand, indicating for her to hush.
"Oh, this is happening — no stopping me now," he said as the music began to pick up.
"Please focus on the road, dad," said Hermione as Mr Granger began to sing.
"Last night, I was taking a walk along the riverrrr and I – sing Mena – saw him together with a young girllll–" sang Mr Ganger while obnoxiously shifting in his seat as if he was dancing.
"Sorry, love, you know how your father gets," laughed Mrs Granger.
"Angeleyes — it's a classic! Look into his angel eyes, one look and you're hypnotised – I'm looking at you, Theo," the man joked, causing Theo to laugh. "The girls would always dance around to Dancing Queen in the kitchen back in the day," he added, turning down the music. "Draco, this song is by a lovely little band called ABBA – they're Swedish."
"But it's in English," said Draco, then immediately felt like an idiot, realising just because they were Swedish didn't mean they didn't speak English. "Er –I –"
"What about this one," said Mrs Granger as she pressed a button a few times, causing the song to change. And, of course, Mr Granger instantly began to sing along while Draco took a secretive glance at Hermione, thoroughly enjoying her embarrassment.
If you change your mind, I'm the first in line
Honey, I'm still free
Take a chance on me…
If you need me, let me know, gonna be around
If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down
If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown…
"It's okay if you don't like it," said Hermione softly. "My dad might take it personally, but –" she added with a small smile and shrugged.
Draco smiled back. "No, it's –"
"It's awesome!" said Theo.
Mrs Granger once again turned the volume down to speak. "David cornered me right outside my flat singing this song," she said while laughing. "I was in the middle of packing after we'd graduated. He didn't want me to move overseas. Told me he loved me," she said wistfully.
"So, he made it abundantly clear how he felt?" chuckled Theo. It was evident to everyone in the car that Mrs Granger and Theo had some kind of in-joke regarding the phrase.
"Sure as fuck I did," said Mr Granger with no shame. "Couldn't let her leave without at least giving it a try," he said with a smirk. "And then we got to have a wonderful wedding with my Catholic relatives and her Muslim relatives," he laughed. "Never again," he added soberly, shaking his head and scrunching his nose.
"David," said Mrs Granger with an eye roll.
"I only mean I'm never going to have another wedding because we are going to be together forever," he said with a shit-eating grin.
Draco had to admit the music was – unique — as he continued to listen to another song about some man named Fernando. The car fell into a peaceful mood as the music played while Draco mused about his father's journal. He watched as Mr Granger took Mrs Granger's hand.
His parents would be about the same age as Hermione's parents.
Did they listen to ABBA, too?
Even among all his worries, Draco's mind wandered, thinking about everything he wanted to ask Daniel and Alma when he finally met them. The first being, what the fuck happened? Followed by – how the fuck to work up the courage to tell Hermione how he felt. His mother was ultimately the one who confessed her love first. And his father seemed rather confident with girls going by what he wrote in his journal.
It also didn't escape Draco's thoughts that he was six months shy of Daniel's age when he'd lost his virginity.
Not that Draco anticipated meeting the mark. He was pretty confident he wouldn't even come close, given Hermione didn't seem interested in anything other than friendship — right?
And even though Draco was admittedly a horny bastard, he had only experienced pornographic Wizarding images and his vivid imagination. He'd yet to even have his first real kiss, for Salazar's sake. He knew he wasn't a prude by any means - it's just that snogging never really came up before. By the time he'd turned fourteen, the Blood Tapestry had already turned his world upside down. And before that, he'd rather play Quidditch than care about witches in such a way.
Draco glanced over at Hermione, who was animatedly talking to her mum.
Had Hermione already kissed someone? He couldn't help scrunching his nose, knowing she probably kissed Krum when they'd been hanging out. And he was eighteen and most likely experienced, given he was a famous Quidditch star. Not that it really mattered. Hermione could have already fucked a hundred wizards, and it wouldn't make Draco lov – like – her any less.
Theo said he'd already snogged a few witches and even had gotten to third base with a girl from Ravenclaw. And obviously, Theo had to explain to Draco not only about the strange sport from the States – but also what the fuck third base meant regarding intimacy.
According to Theo, he'd fingered the witch while she gave him a hand job.
"Draco, it was insane. I came in thirty seconds," said Theo, completely unashamed as they studied for their Transfiguration exam.
"I don't think you're supposed to brag about finishing so quickly, Theo," Draco laughed.
"Says the wizard who has kissed zero witches and moans every night in his sleep. 'Oh, Hermione — fuck—Hermione, I'm gonna—" Draco swatted his Transfiguration book on Theo's forehead. "Ow! That was rude," huffed Theo, rubbing his noggin.
"Do I really say that out loud in my sleep?" Draco questioned worriedly. Not only would that be mortifying, but he was concerned about the other Slytherins finding out he fancied a Muggle-born.
And not just any Muggle-born but the one everyone in Hogwarts thought him to loath.
"Not that I'm aware," Theo laughed. "But judging by your concern, I know you at least dream about it," he smirked.
"I'll have to start sleeping with a Silencing Charm, then," Draco laughed, face going red.
"So, what was it like for you to find out your daughter was a witch?" questioned Theo, pulling Draco out of his thoughts.
"Ah, yeah — wanna take that one, Mena?" chuckled Mr Granger.
"Truthfully, Hermione's nan — my mum — noticed first. Hermione hadn't even been three when her nan was already going on and on about how she had magic. David and I simply assumed she was being a proud grandmother."
Mr Granger scoffed. "Yeah, and then we caught Minny a few years later in her room with books all around."
"Seems like a fairly normal thing – especially for Hermione," said Draco, placing his hand on Hermione's knee. He then immediately removed it when he saw that Mr Granger had happened to glance back right at that fucking moment.
Luckily, the man simply laughed and didn't comment on Draco's daring behaviour.
"No – see — when I say books all around her room, I mean — all around her room. Floating and shite. Flying through the fucking air. Thought I was going to have to call a priest," he laughed.
"Dad," chuckled Hermione.
"What's a priest?" asked Draco.
Theo excitedly spoke up. "Oh! Blaise told me – he's another wizard in our year – he said that priests are old men who drink blood and eat flesh — tran-subscriptions or something," said Theo confidently. "They also hate sex."
Draco made a face while Hermione and her parents laughed.
"I didn't get that right, did I?" said Theo. "Fucking, Blaise," he muttered.
"Nah — it's close enough," said Mr Granger amusedly.
…
Draco knew he was in trouble the minute they stepped onto the beach. He had to force himself to avert his gaze when his horny fifteen-year-old eyes immediately clocked how many of the Muggle women dressed. He'd assumed that the other gender's swimming costume would be more revealing than the garments he was used to – just not that revealing.
Of course, he'd been to the beach before. Quite a few times, actually. But it was always on the Wizarding side of southern France, and for whatever reason, magical folk didn't really take to swimming. And if there were any half-naked witches around, he never noticed, given the last time he'd been to a beach, he didn't even know what sex was. He'd spent his time running along the shore with Madame Dubois chasing after him while his parents spent time in the Malfoy Chateau.
Oh.
Draco internally cringed, now realising what Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had been getting up to.
Suddenly, Draco felt Theo nudge his side. "What? What the fuck?" he said annoyed. Theo gave a quick point.
"Boobs."
"Fuck," said Draco with wide eyes seeing a woman casually walking the shoreline with only her bottom half covered. Draco then looked around. "Shite, Theo – they're fucking everywhere," he said in shock. He then had an inappropriate and errant thought as he looked behind to see if Hermione would also –
'Pull it together,' he chided himself as he not so subtly ogled the witch as she fucking wriggled out of her teeny, little "shorts" and then proceeded to take off her shirt, thankfully (lies) wearing some covering.
"Good Godric," he muttered, averting his gaze. "I'm not going to survive this," he said, looking at the ground.
"Just be glad Mr Granger gave us these," said Theo, tapping the shaded glasses on his face. "We can look wherever we want without getting slapped."
"I'm not fucking worried about that!" Draco hissed. "I'm worried because these fucking swim shorts won't even hide a semi. I'm going straight into the water – I hope it's cold," he huffed and turned to walk away.
"Draco, you must have a really tiny dick because you don't look like you –"
"Salazar, Theo!" said Draco as he whirled around to face him. "I don't have a fucking stiffy right now, you berk! And I'll have you know that I've seen enough pricks in the Quidditch dressing room to proudly say that I've got at least an average – if not more than – sized cock," he spat. "I'll simply have to avoid looking at Hermione's tight arse and her pert little –" Draco stiffened when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.
"Why don't you boys come play some football, yeah?" came Mr Granger's voice, causing Draco to wish someone would Avada him on the spot. "Get some of that – nervous energy – out of your systems." He felt the man give him a firm squeeze and then remove his hand. Draco slowly turned around, unable to decipher the man's facial expression.
"I'm really sorry for that, Mr Granger. I shouldn't have said that about —" Draco audibly swallowed. "Your daughter," he finished, voice practically a squeak.
"Right, well, I'm glad you're – uh – confident about your — wand, but you're entering idiot territory if you're going to be talking like that about my baby girl, Draco."
"It won't happen again, sir," he said, feeling like – well – an idiot.
"Mhmm," said Mr Granger and then he slung his arm over Draco's shoulder and began to pull him along with Theo in tow. "Well, I know where you live for the next few weeks, so–" he said, slapping a hand on Draco's back. "Now, enough of that –" he continued, dropping the football into the sand. "Let's play."
Draco found that he rather enjoyed football. Not to mention it made him feel closer to Daniel and Alma. Although, they seemed to prefer to play while under the influence. Maybe he should give that a try sometime.
The sun was shining brightly as the boys all worked up a sweat. Draco kept glancing over to where Hermione and her mum were building an elaborate sandcastle – chatting away about the finer points of engineering such a structure. Would their swottiness cancel each other out and allow them to simply have fun?
Seeing them laughing, he figured it did.
"OH!" He heard Theo exclaim. And before Draco could react, he felt a dull pain when something hit his face. He staggered a bit, seeing the football drop to the sand. "Sorry, Draco! That one got away from – fuck, you're bleeding," said Theo as he and Mr Granger approached him.
"Just pinch your nose and tilt your head, yeah, like that," said Mr Granger as he helped Draco. "You're a proper footballer now. Getting booted in the face is a rite of passage," he chuckled.
Even though he was in pain, Draco laughed but then felt himself blush when Hermione ran over.
Ran.
Causing certain physical attributes to – well – bounce a bit.
He quickly sat down and subtly grabbed a folded beach towel, placing it over his lap, feeling himself instantly getting hard.
"Oh, we should get some sun cream on you, Draco," came Mrs Granger's voice. "You're already quite red."
"Uh–"
"It helps protect your skin from sunburn," laughed Hermione as she grabbed a strange bottle and proceeded to put a weird white substance in her hand. Draco's breath hitched when the blasted witch began to rub his fucking shoulders and back, all the while desperately hoping he wasn't about to produce hisown white substance in his swim shorts.
"Draco, I think I might have broken your nose – you look like you're in a lot of pain," said Theo with a knowing grin.
"I'm fine," he said gruffly as Hermione continued to torture him with the bloody sun cream.
"You're next, Theo," laughed Hermione. "You can do your front," she said, placing some cream into Draco's hand. Thank fucking, Merlin. He was not (lies) looking forward to Hermione rubbing her hands all over his chest.
Draco was still seated a few minutes later as he amusedly watched Mr Granger rub the stuff all over Theo's back. Hermione and her mum had gone off to buy some lunch, and Draco was grateful for an excuse to simply sit for a while to calm down.
"Just be glad Bidah isn't here," said Mr Granger.
"Bidah?" questioned Theo.
"Hermione's nan – Abidah. But we call her Bidah. When I first started hanging around Mena, we'd all gone to the beach, and her mum was the one who put sun cream on me because she never had to use it before. Said she was, and I quote, curious," he laughed. "Even put it in my hair, saying I had a bald spot. Freaked me out, but then I realised she was taking the piss. That woman is a riot," he said fondly.
"I'd like to meet her," said Theo. Draco watched as the boy instantly recoiled. "Sorry, that was rude. I didn't—"
"Nah – Bidah would be miffed if she didn't see Hermione at least a few times this summer. And she loves meeting new people. But fair warning, she's a talker. Will talk and talk and talk. She'll also ask about a million questions about your life."
"She sounds fun," said Theo longingly. "Your wife said her father was also funny. Told jokes right before he– uh passed away."
Mr Granger gave a small chuckle. "Omari was a great man. Immigrated from Senegal a few years before Bidah."
"Did they know each other before?" asked Draco, intrigued.
"No. They met in London by accident when Bidah spilt a hot cuppa on him. She'd just started a job as a waitress over in Newham." He paused. "Love at first burn, if you will," he laughed.
"You boys hungry?" came Mrs Granger's voice.
"Starving!" said Theo as he ran up to the woman and took a sandwich. Draco smiled, watching his friend unabashedly lean into Hermione's family's care. He hadn't dwelt much on Theo's circumstances - so focused on his own parental issues. It was difficult not to be absorbed in his struggles, and Draco decided to try and do a better job of checking in on how Theo was fairing.
Theo rarely spoke of his mother, but Draco knew they'd been close before she died. The boy cried every night back when they were little, and he slept in Draco's bed. Of course, at the time, Draco was simply being selfish, not liking sleeping alone in his much too-large bedroom.
"Looks better," said Hermione as she sat beside Draco and examined his face. "Might have some bruising tomorrow," she added. "I punched a boy right in the nose when I was seven, and he had terrible bruising when he showed up to school the next day."
"Merlin, Granger – so you have a history of violence?" he chuckled. "I didn't realise I wasn't the first peer you've assaulted."
Hermione gave a sheepish smile. "I might have also pulled a girl's hair in year two. But she pulled on mine first - so it was self-defence," she laughed. "And er — sorry about that. The slap."
Draco snorted a laugh. "I'm fairly certain I deserved it," he admitted. "Although, at the time, I had an entire list of ways I was going to torment you because of it," he added with a smirk.
"Really now?" she said with a quirked brow as she handed him a sandwich and took her own. "I'd like to see that list sometime. For research purposes, of course," she smiled.
"Ah, yeah — see. It was all in here," he said, tapping on his temple. "You'd have to use Legilimens if you wanted to see; besides, I don't remember it."
"You're lying. I bet you could recite it right now," she challenged.
Draco grinned. "You know me so well."
The group sat under a large umbrella and ate lunch, chatting about various things. Draco learned that when Hermione was eight, she'd started her Z.O.O. campaign to liberate all the zoo animals.
"What does the acronym stand for?" he'd asked.
"Zoological Overthrow Objective," said Hermione. "I still have the petition. Although, it was only ever signed by Davy and me. But he only signed it because he wanted to see me naked again."
"Oh."
Thankfully, Draco learned that Davy's desire to see a naked Hermione again only referred to when she was five and "wanted to study biology."
"Let's swim," said Hermione as she stood and then smirked. "I'll race you both to the water."
Theo immediately got up. "You're on, Granger. Try keeping up with your short legs."
"If anyone is going to win, it'll be me, seeing as I'm the only actual athlete here," said Draco smugly. "Seeker, remember?"
"Yeah, but you didn't play all fourth year because of the tournament. Besides, all you do is fly a fucking broom and – shite!"
Hermione began to sprint while the boys were arguing, causing them to immediately follow. And as Draco predicted, he easily outran the pair heading straight into the water.
"OH FUCK. It's freezing!" he laughed as Hermione and Theo splashed their way in.
"No, shite," agreed Theo.
"Oh, come on," said Hermione as she went further out and diving under before coming back up, shivering. "Okay, it is a bit cold," she laughed, wiping the water from her face.
Not before long, the trio got used to the temperature as Hermione lectured the wizards on a proper swimming stroke.
After spending all day basking in the sun and having Hermione reapply another helping of sun cream, causing Draco to remain seated and miss out on collecting shells with Theo, the group packed the car and made the journey back to the Grangers' home.
All in all – it was a great day.
…
…
…
The Next Day
"Are you okay?"
"You know, the number of times you've asked me that question since Moody turned me into a fucking ferret is quite alarming," laughed Draco as he shifted in his seat on the bus.
"Sorry," said Hermione, feeling like an idiot. "You seem nervous. Which – I would be too, but –"
"I'll admit I'm nervous," he said softly. Hermione watched Draco clutching his father's journal. She observed him taking the book around her house the past few days. Simply wanting it near like a life preserver, keeping him afloat. It was similar to how he handled the fob for the better part of fourth year.
"What are you whispering about?" came Theo's voice as he leaned across the aisle.
"What do you think," said Draco as he lifted his journal and rolled his eyes. "I promise we aren't devising a way to remove you from TWAT," he laughed and then coughed when an older woman on the bus turned to look at him funny.
They all began to laugh, causing the woman to then glare at them and mutter something about unruly children.
The trio had a bit of a lie-in after their day at the beach and were now making the journey to London to visit the cybercafe and officially begin the TWAT Summer '95 Research Project. A.K.A., find Draco's mum and dad. Once they exited the bus, Hermione guided the wizards through the city, following the directions she had written down.
After finally arriving at the cafe, they had to wait quite a while for a computer, given the place was brand new, attracting a steady flow of patrons.
Hermione sat in front of the computer once a space finally opened.
"Alright, let's see here," she said as she shifted the mouse to get rid of the screen saver. "Oh, my –"
"Fucking shite, Hermione," said Theo, and she could hear Draco huff a curse under his breath.
"Sorry, I–" she began to try to exit from the screen featuring a video of a naked woman – on her knees – while the man stood before her – also naked.
"Fuck, she's really going at it," said Theo.
"Yes, well – I just hope it's consensual," said Hermione, feeling mortified as she finally exited the video. "You know, the pornographic industry –"
"Granger," came Draco's voice, interrupting her. "Please don't lecture us about porn. I'm begging you," he laughed.
Hermione turned her head and scrunched her nose, once again embarrassed. She could see both boys snickering, although Draco had a noticeable blush.
"Right, sorry," she said, returning to the screen, trying to navigate the computer. "I've taken a few summer classes regarding how to use a computer, given I live in the Muggle world, and Hogwarts doesn't teach it. So – I think I can figure this out," she said, now realising she didn't really know what she was doing, given the classes she took were mainly how to type on a keyboard.
She'd hoped that using the internet would be simple and felt her face heating up, seeing she wasn't as adept with Muggle technology as all the young Muggles around them seemed. And so, with the two boys hovering behind her, patiently waiting, Hermione had to swallow her pride and ask for help.
She turned to a girl – about their age – sitting in the seat next to her. "Um – excuse me," she started. The girl turned her head. "How – uh – how would I – well– find someone's whereabouts using the internet?"
The girl made a face, eyed the boys, and looked back at her. "Just use the search engine," she huffed and then returned to her screen.
"Right," said Hermione. "Um –" she cringed and turned back to the girl. "What is that, exactly?"
The girl raised her brow and then stood and leaned over Hermione's keyboard. She typed something into the computer and then clicked a few buttons. "There."
"Thank you," said Hermione. The girl responded by flipping her hair with an eye roll and then angling her body away to avoid being bothered again.
"Everything alright, Granger?" asked Draco before laughing. "She'd get on well with Daph."
"Got that right," agreed Theo. Hermione smiled at the comparison and then furrowed her brow before typing his parents' names. Then, sensing Draco go rigid, Hermione took a breath and hit the search button.
"What does it say?" asked Draco as he leaned down. "What the fuck is browser error?"
"Um — I think it means I need to try something else," said Hermione, feeling the pressure. She sat back in her seat and thought for a minute. "Oh! I think this might work," she said as she input "Public Records." Sure enough, the entry brought them to a promising-looking website. "I think this might actually work," she said hopefully.
1 Hour and A Few Arguments Later
"I – I think I found something," said Hermione, her eyes burning from staring for so long. She'd spent far too long trying to find official records until Draco suggested seeing if any news articles were available. Hermione was a bit annoyed she hadn't thought of it first, seeing as their first real lead was when she'd found the old Swedish articles about Muggles possibly being reinstated as a professor in Sweden's wizarding school.
"Look at this," she said. It was a very brief article about a new residential development in Islington. The article was simply promoting the area, but one particular quote stood out.
"I'm looking forward to sitting on my new terrace and painting," says one of the newest residents to the area. She is accompanied by her husband, and the young couple, originally from Sweden, will be expecting their first child in early June.
It's dated March of nineteen-eighty, Draco," said Hermione, voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think –"
"It's them," he blurted. "My–my mother – she likes to paint – it's them."
The trio remained in stunned silence before Hermione had the fortitude to pull out a notepad and write everything down.
"How far is Islington?" asked Theo. At this point, Draco fell into an empty seat next to her, simply staring at the screen.
"Not far at all. We– we could check it out. I mean – it may not lead to anything as this was fifteen years ago, but–"
Draco finally peeled his eyes off the computer screen and looked directly at Hermione.
"Let's go."
…
A relatively short taxi ride later, the trio stepped out in front of the block of flats pictured in the article.
"So, what now?" asked Theo.
Hermione could see the determination on Draco's face as he studied the building.
"We knock on some doors," he said as he walked briskly towards the entrance. Luckily a man was exiting just as they approached, and Draco caught the door, allowing them to enter.
The building was relatively small, with only the ground level and first floor. Hermione followed the boys into a tight corridor with four units, two on each side. They decided to split up and all eyed each other before knocking. Of course, given it was still the middle of the workday, no one seemed to be home, leaving them to move on to the last door of the ground floor. Again – nothing.
Hermione could see Draco growing anxious, and she gently took his hand to pull him up the stairs. As soon as the trio reached the corridor, they all looked at each other in confusion.
"There's only three flats here," said Theo, looking at the wall where a fourth flat should have been.
Draco cautiously placed his hand on the wall. "I've – I've seen this magic before," he said softly. "I can feel it. My – Lucius - uses it on some of the older Malfoy properties located in Muggle areas." He turned to face the others. "A long time ago, before the Statute of Secrecy, the Malfoys were known to do business with prominent Muggles – Muggle royalty. My fath – Lucius - still manages the properties and used to take me with him to visit them sometimes. " He turned back to the wall. "It's not an actual ward," he continued. "He didn't want the Ministry sniffing out such strong magic and interfering, so he uses this," he gestured to the empty wall.
Hermione could see Draco reach down towards where the door handle should have been and watched with wide eyes as his hand gripped something. Then, to her shock, Draco somehow opened a door.
"It's simply an illusion charm," he whispered.
The trio tentatively entered the darkened space. Without thinking, Hermione flipped on the light switch.
The lights turned on to reveal a small flat filled with furniture, books and – pretty much everything one would expect to find in someone's home. Only everything looked – dated.
"Do you think they still live here?" questioned Theo.
Hermione watched Draco quickly move past the kitchen into a small corridor. She followed, nearly running into his back when he stopped short, having opened a door. Hermione peered around his shoulder and saw a small cot and other items, indicating it was a nursery.
"Someone has to have been here recently," he said, voice shaking. "There's no dust or – or – it's so clean." He turned around and opened the next door, and of course, Hermione followed him.
"Draco –" started Hermione as he began tearing through the bedroom. He had a wild look in his eyes as he opened the wardrobe, pulling out clothes. He even began to rummage through the chest of drawers. "Draco–" she said again. "If they still live here, don't you think you should leave their stuff alone?"
"No, Hermione," he barked in anger. "This – this is all wrong. It – look at all this stuff. It's – it's old. It's –" he then eyed a small book on the bedside table, identical to his father's journal. "Fuck," he rasped, picking it up and scanning the pages. "Fuck, it's – it's him, it's – fuck. They were here," he said. "The last page – it's – fuck, Hermione. It's dated the day I was born," he nearly sobbed.
"Maybe – maybe they had to leave or – or –"
"Um – guys," came Theo's voice. Hermione turned to see Theo holding some kind of picture, his face going pale. He slowly turned the image around.
"No," said Draco as he rushed over and grabbed it. "My– my mother painted this – I –"
Hermione watched Draco's eyes instantly shutter while his frown transformed into a thin line. "I want to leave," he said coldly.
"Draco – we don't know what really happened. I mean –" started Theo, but Draco aggressively pushed him out of the way and into the wall.
"I said I want to leave," he snapped, letting the painting fall to the floor, still holding both journals under his arm.
Hermione stood frozen as she watched Theo rub a hand over his face, only to silently follow Draco out of the flat. Finally coming out of her shock, Hermione picked up the painting to get a better look.
It was a painting of a Death Eater mask and at the bottom, it simply read -
"What haunts me." -AM
…
…
…
Mena stood over the kitchen tap, placing the last of the dishes on the drying rack. The children had returned from their day in London in time for dinner and had been quite sullen for the entire meal. She didn't want to pry, knowing that Draco most likely found something unfortunate out about his birth parents and simply wasn't ready to talk about it.
"Should I talk to him?" said Mr Granger as he entered the kitchen. They could hear Hermione and Theo quietly talking in the sitting room while the telly played softly in the background. "He's in the study."
Mena dried her hands as she leaned against the countertop. "Let me talk to him," she said as Mr Granger nodded. "Why don't you sit with Hermione and Theo? They seem a bit down as well."
"Sure, love," he said, then placed a kiss on her cheek.
Mena took a cleansing breath through her nose and went to the study. Draco was quietly sitting at the desk with his father's journal open while he was looking at the pocket watch.
"May I come in?" she asked softly.
"Oh, yes. I'm sorry – did you need your desk?" Draco said as he quickly began to stand and grab his belongings.
"No, sweetheart, I'm not kicking you out. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Mena watched Draco's face instantly crumple. Her motherly instincts kicked in as she quickly crossed the distance and rounded the desk to bring him into a hug. "It's okay," she said softly, pulling him into a comforting embrace as he began to cry.
"They're dead," he sobbed. "He – he killed them."
Stiffening, Mena pulled back slightly. "Draco –"
"Lucius – my – he killed them, and he stole me. He took me from them!" he yelled angrily. "He took them from me!"
She watched the boy's features suddenly glaze over within seconds as his face took on an eerily blank expression. The quick emotional shift sent a chill down her spine at how unnatural it was. "Draco –"
"I'm sorry, Mrs Granger –" he started in a monotone voice. "I'm occluding."
Gathering he meant he was using some form of magic to obscure his emotions, Mena took a step forward. "Draco, please don't hide your emotions. You needn't push us away. We're here for you. All of us," she said delicately.
Draco stood stiffly for another minute as she watched his eyes soften and then instantly began to sob again as she brought him in for another hug.
"Mena –" she heard David call gently. Turning her head, she could see the concerned look on her husband's face.
"David, call my mum."
…
…
…
Draco blearily opened his eyes, seeing he was in a darkened room. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since breaking down in the study with Mrs Granger – but at some point, they must have made their way to the sitting room and he must have passed out on the floor.
"It's going to be okay," he heard Hermione's voice say as he turned his head to see the witch lying right beside him. He then realised they were both wrapped in a blanket, and he even had a pillow under his head.
"Yeah, Draco – we'll help you get through this," came Theo's voice, who was on the other side of him - also wrapped in the blanket. Draco looked around the room and saw Mrs Granger asleep on the sofa while Mr Granger was slightly snoring, looking quite uncomfortable in a chair nearby. "Hermione's nan is coming tomorrow, and Mrs Granger says that she's a really great person to talk to — to help."
Draco could only respond with a slight nod as he wiped a tear from his face. Suddenly, he felt the familiar sensation of Crookshanks climbing on top of his chest. "Mr Shanks," he said in a choked voice and then started crying again. He thought the cat would surely claw him for shaking and making his place of rest uncomfortable, but to his surprise, the cat moved closer to his face and gave three gentle licks, clearing away his tears before nestling into his neck. "Thank you," he whispered.
…
…
…
…
…
Malfoy Manor 1974
"You wanted to see me, father?"
"Ah, yes, Lucius. Come in, come in."
Lucius walked into his father's study and stood before Abraxas' ornate desk until the older wizard gestured for him to sit.
"You're going to bring great honour to the Malfoy name today," started Abraxas as he continued to sign his name on parchment after parchment, not even reading over the contents.
"Yes. I look forward to the ceremony."
"Well – Adonis could've learned a thing or two from you. I'm surprised my brother hasn't burned him off the family tree yet," he said in frustration. "The boy is a Blood Traitor now."
"Adonis?" questioned Lucius. He hadn't spent much time with his seventeen-year-old cousin but knew the wizard was one to spend many nights bedding young witches. "He was with a Muggle-born?"
Abraxas huffed. "Worse — a Muggle whore."
Lucius sat back in his seat. "It was only a matter of time, father. Uncle Absolom lets him have free reign of the Malfoy pied-à-terre in Muggle London. Where is Adonis now?"
Abraxas let out a hearty laugh. "Where he belongs — a Muggle prison. I guess the Muggle bitch broke it off, and he took a few swings," he said with an eye roll. "Damned boy couldn't even finish the job. And like the idiot he is, he didn't have his wand, so he'll be there for a while." Abraxas sniffed and then shuffled his papers. "Now, enough talk of such trivial things – how is your young witch doing? Any announcements you'd like to make? It's been a year, Lucius."
Lucius immediately began to occlude. "She's only nineteen and I twenty, father. And seeing as you'll be Lord of House for quite some time, we've decided not to rush into anything."
"Not wise," chided his father. "You must put an heir in that witch as soon as possible. You know how some of them can be. The sooner you know she's capable of producing an heir –" he paused. "A proper heir— the better. I didn't marry you off for you to have a loving companion. If she can't play her role, you must remove her and move on. I've already been in talks with Lord Rosier about his daughter, knowing that the Black family isn't as noble as they used to be. What with that Blood Traitor bitch of a sister-in-law you have — had."
Lucius slowly exhaled through his nose. "You're talking about Evan Rosier's younger sister?" He questioned in disgust. "The witch is barely fourteen."
Abraxas stood, and Lucius followed suit, eyeing his father taking hold of his cane. "And hopefully fertile. Now — let's not be late," said Abraxas dismissively, gesturing to the door.
"Yes, father."
…
Lucius stood among a handful of other young wizards as Lord Voldemort bestowed the Dark Mark upon his newest recruits.
"Lucius Malfoy," came the voice of the dark-haired wizard. "Step forward." Lucius confidently took a step and then knelt at the man's feet. "I look forward to seeing what the Malfoy name can bring to our most virtuous cause," said Voldemort. "Your arm," he commanded, holding out his own hand and wand.
"It is an honour to serve you, my Lord," said Lucius as he pulled up his sleeve, presenting his left arm. In a moment of weakness, Lucius made a subtle glance to the corner of the room and briefly locked eyes with Narcissa. He quickly occluded as the Dark Lord placed the tip of his wand into his flesh and gave the incantation.
The physical pain was instant as Lucius felt the Dark Magic seep into his skin, working its way into his magical core. And even though it was borderline unbearable, he remained perfectly silent – perfectly still. Because nothing compared to the pain and sorrow of watching his beloved wife suffer through another pregnancy loss only a week before.
She hadn't even been far enough along to make an announcement.
Once the spell was complete, the Dark Lord stepped back and smiled before moving on to the slightly younger wizard, Severus Snape. Lucius stood to his feet and eyed the Mark for only a moment before pulling his sleeve back down while the magic was still burning through his body – through his soul.
Lucius Malfoy was now a Death Eater.
After the ceremony, the new recruits were sent on their first raid with the only command to kill as many Muggles as possible. Lucius apparated a few minutes behind the group after briefly conversing with his father. When he arrived, it was a chaotic scene - Unforgivable Curses were flying everywhere as the filthy Muggles ran, screaming.
"Stupid lot," he heard Titus Nott say. "They run, creating the perfect target," he added with a smirk as he cast the Killing Curse right into a Muggle woman's back. "Drop like the useless waste of space they are."
Lucius pulled out his wand and scanned the area. He caught sight of a young Muggle boy running. But to his slight surprise, the young brunette wasn't running away — he was running towards them, holding some kind of Muggle weapon. "Shame," Lucius muttered under his breath. "Brave – but so very stupid."
Lucius flicked his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
…
Malfoy Manor March 1977
Lucius stood in the doorway, watching Narcissa sleep as the Healer cast a diagnostic spell for the third time.
"I've healed all of the trauma, so she won't be in any pain," said the older witch. "Even so, her body needs to rest, and she'll continue to bleed for another six weeks. Nothing to be done about that."
Entering further into the room and standing beside the bed, Lucius brushed his hand over his wife's furrowed brow. "She looks like she's still in pain," he said, examining her features as she slept.
"I'd imagine it's the sort of pain that can't be healed physically, Master Lucius," said the Healer softly.
"Where is it?" he asked.
The Healer gave a heavy breath. "Your – Lord Malfoy took – took it. I'm not sure –"
Lucius lifted his hand, indicating silence. "I understand. You may go," he said as the witch nodded and left. He quietly followed her into the corridor and pulled out his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"
The witch's body dropped to the floor.
"Tibby!" he called, eliciting a small pop.
"Yes, Master Lucius?" said the old House Elf.
Lucius pointed to the body. "You know what to do."
"Yes, Master."
Lucius turned on his heel and reentered the room to sit beside Narcissa's bed, holding her hand with his head down.
"It was a boy."
He looked up with a jolt and saw the pain in his wife's eyes. "He – he was so small, and – I held him, Lucius," she said as tears streamed down her face. "He was with us for three whole minutes. I named him –"
"Stop," Lucius said coldly. "There's no point, now. It's gone."
Narcissa abruptly pulled her hand away with a sob. "He," she stated firmly. "He's gone."
Lucius took a breath and went to retake her hand, but she moved it out of reach.
"Regardless, my father doesn't care as long as you can produce a proper heir, Cissa. Thankfully he's under the assumption this was your first pregnancy, so I should be able to convince him to allow you to try again."
"Well, your father can go –"
"Cissa," he barked and then took a breath. "My father has the power to dispose of you with a wave of his hand. You have six weeks, and we'll try again." Lucius looked at the time and cursed. "Wendy!" he called.
Narcissa's newest elf instantly appeared. "See that your mistress has everything she needs. I have to go."
"Yes, Master Lucius."
"Talk to him, Lucius," came his wife's voice in an uncharacteristically pleading manner. "He's nervous."
"Weren't we all," sighed Lucius as he watched Narcissa settle into the bed and close her eyes in physical and emotional exhaustion. "Your young cousin will bring honour to your family. He's already taken his Blood Traitor of a brother's place. I'm sure he'll do well tonight."
"He's only sixteen – I don't see why he has to be Marked so young. He's just a boy," she said as she began to cry again.
Lucius could see Narcissa reflexively place her hand over her abdomen, still swollen from where their child once lived.
Where his son once lived.
Lived.
His son was dead.
"We do as the Dark Lord commands - Regulus will be fine."
…
Later That Evening
"You did well, Regulus," said Lucius as he watched the boy study his left arm. "Not everyone fares as well as you've done. The Dark Lord was very pleased with you."
"It's been nearly two hours –" Regulus said with a wince. "Will it always hurt?"
Lucius stepped closer to the young wizard, hovering over his shoulder.
"Yes."
…
April 1977
"I don't think I can do it," Regulus said as he stood beside Lucius. They'd just apparated to a small Muggle village. "Severus said that you have to want it. I–I don't –"
"Stop," commanded Lucius as he pushed the young wizard against a small building. "You take all of your pain. Every hurt – every wrong – anything that has even caused the most minor inconvenience, and you blame them. All that rage buried within your soul." He could see Regulus' eyes widen. "Think of Sirius and how he betrayed you — because of them," he said, cocking his head towards the sounds of screaming. "A world rid of Muggles and Muggle-borns is a world rid of Blood Traitors. You'd still have a brother if not for their filth perverting everything our kind holds dear." Regulus stood straighter as Lucius placed his hand over the young wizard's heart. "All that pain in your soul – take it out on them."
They both turned their heads when they heard a commotion of screams approaching. Lucius stepped back from Regulus and drew his wand as he caught sight of an older Muggle man running away.
"Is that what you do? You channel all the pain in your soul?"
Lucius narrowed his eyes, judging the distance. "No, Regulus." He then lifted his wand. "I have no soul."
Flick.
"Avada Kedavra!"
…
4 June 1980 Malfoy Manor
Lucius paced the corridor and listened to Narcissa's low moans coming from their suite. It had already been three hours of labour, and he knew this was it. Abraxas had given him an ultimatum saying if the bitch couldn't get the job done and produce a proper Malfoy heir, he would Avada Narcissa himself.
Lucius made sure to cast silencing charms to not alert either of his parents that his wife had gone into labour three weeks early after it was confirmed that Regulus was presumed dead, having been missing for months.
Suddenly, Narcissa gave a sharp cry, followed by silence. His heart stuttered a beat, and propriety be damned, Lucius immediately burst into the room. He could see Narcissa crying as the Healer held the child, still attached by the cord. He rushed to Narcissa's side as the older witch slowly laid the babe on Narcissa's stomach.
"I'm so sorry," said the Healer. And before the Healer could utter another word, Lucius drew his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
…
5 June 1980
"This seems to be the correct address," said Severus as he and Lucius apparated near a block of flats in Muggle London. "The target and his wife should be home, according to Nott's reconnaissance report. He's been following them for some time now and says this would be the prime time to catch them unaware."
Lucius nodded, wanting to get in and out as soon as possible, still actively trying to devise a plan to protect his wife from the fallout of what had transpired the day before.
"I'll never understand why the Ministry was stupid enough to bring a Muggle into Hogwarts," said Severus as they stealthily entered the building.
"Dumbledore and his associates are deluded with notions beyond reason," said Lucius in a tired voice as he approached the door to the correct flat. "It's warded," he uttered softly, feeling the magic. "But not very strong. Seems as though the Ministry doesn't care to provide proper protection. Probably realised it's not worth wasting the energy on such filth," said Lucius as he easily bypassed the wards and opened the door.
Upon entering the small space, the two Death Eaters noticed how quiet it was.
"Do you think they knew we were coming?" asked Severus.
Lucius simply held up his hand and placed a finger over his lips to get Snape to be quiet. He then jutted his masked chin. "Someone is here," he said in a low tone.
Suddenly, a woman briskly walked into the space, seemingly distracted as she moved towards a tiny kitchen area and began to wash her hands under the tap, oblivious to the dark, hooded figures.
Lucius' eyes widened when he saw the Muggle's hands were covered in blood.
Of course, they would be – the savages that they are.
Severus took a tentative step forward, eliciting a creaking noise. The woman abruptly turned around, and Lucius flicked his wand before she could let out a scream.
"Avada Kedavra," he hissed, causing the older woman to drop to the floor with a soft thud.
"This isn't the target," Severus said as he moved forward and knelt beside the body. "Could Nott have been mistaken?"
Yet, before Lucius could respond, a peculiar noise rang out in the small flat.
Both wizards froze, realising it was the sound of a baby crying.
Severus recovered first and spoke. "Back room," he stated, and the two wizards cautiously followed the noise.
As Severus was about to open the door, Lucius grabbed his wrist. "Wait."
They could hear the baby's cry quiet down, as well as soft voices coming through the door. It was hard to understand what they were saying – almost like it was another language. But then something caught his ear spoken in clear English.
"What should we name our baby boy?"
Lucius opened the door quietly to see a woman sitting in bed with a man kneeling next to her as she held a tiny baby. It was evident she'd just given birth.
Just like his wife had the day prior.
Suddenly, the man's head shot up as he immediately stood, finally seeing the intruders. Yet before the Muggle could react further, Lucius drew his wand and said –
"Petrificus Totalus."