A/N: Thank you all to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have favored this fic.

Thank you: Eldersprig, Anjali Katari, twixxy-dee, hkmac, Kar-Kar93, Andykins, Angelus Draco, Vaneesa85, alina290, sm, Pesche, BeWhoYouAre, Guest, and Aya Diefair for the reviews.

I got some question and some comments. Some of them I can't answer because that would be giving away some future content. I did get a question about if Hermione and Draco were still 'together' when he was 'together' with Astoria. No, he was not in relationship with Hermione while dating Astoria. I'm sorry if I didn't clarify that earlier. I thought I had. I apologize, but they were not together and had not been for quite a while. As the story continues to unfold, we shall see Hermione and Draco's relationship unfold, as well, and all will be revealed in time.

I also got comments concerning Hermione and Harry, not just from this chapter but from earlier ones, too. Some were on Hermione's team, and some were on Harry's team. Many want to know why Hermione didn't contact her friends. They want to know why she closed herself off from everyone excluding a select few. In Chapter 24, I received a review that I liked very much because the reader was dead on target. Hermione is not Hermione from Hogwarts. This is Hermione Post War, and she's emotionally damaged. Just because she had a baby, doesn't mean she's one hundred percent healed. If anything, parenthood made her more reserved. She's more careful and less trusting. I suppose I will get a little personal here, but my father served during a war a very long time ago, and he still suffers from PTSD. There is no reasoning with people who suffer from it. That's a job for awesome psychiatrists. Why Hermione never went to one? *shrugs* The same reason my dad never went and never will. She thinks she doesn't have PTSD.

As for Harry, we'll see him again soon. We'll find out why he didn't try harder in contacting Hermione. We'll find out why Ron didn't either. All in good time, my people. All in good time. Now on with Chapter 26!

Present Day

Staring at her clasped hands on resting on her lap, Hermione sat in silence with Alex beside her who looked up at her with a guilty expression.

"I'm sorry, Mommy. He told me not to tell."

"I'm not angry with you," she quietly said. "I'm sorry you had to hear your father and I fight like that. It wasn't fair to you."

"Are two going to make up when you see each other? We'll he be coming over soon?"

Heart heaving and sinking low into a hollow stomach, she breathed in deeply, a sniffle evident in her nose. A tear escaped down her cheek as she grabbed Alex's hand and held it in her own.

"Unfortunately, no. Alex…" Hermione made an *ahem* sound and clenched her stomach to fight off the wave of nausea washing over her. She put her focus on her son and rubbed his cheek with the back of her knuckles. "Alex, your father has passed away. I'm so sorry." Another tear spilled out of Hermione's eye as did one from her other while watching her child's face cloud over with confusion and then pink with rage.

"No!" he screamed and wrenched his arm away from her and started to beat her wherever he could reach with his tiny fists. "No! No! No! You're lying, Mommy! You're lying! You are a liar!"

Hermione recoiled from the flailing fists and shot out her hands to grab them, stilling them from further abuse.

"Let go of me!" Alex screeched and yanked to free his hands, but his mother held strong.

"No, Alex, I will do no such thing," Hermione wetly told him, her son's violence preventing her to break down into sobs.

When the boy figured he could not escape from his mother's hold, he maneuvered his little body off the couch and began kicking her legs. Without anger, Hermione stood up and forced Alex to turn around, his back facing her. Bending low, she hooked his legs in the crook of her left arm and with her right, harnessed his arms to his chest. She held him this way for a long time. Through screaming and violent squirming, she stood in that same spot and didn't let go. Not even when tears flooded her vision and she could no longer see. Not even when she heard the shrieks turn into hoarse sobs and felt wetness on her arm.

The muscles in her arms burned and her bones ached from Alex's now limp weight. His crying mellowed to a thick, damp whispering mantra of, 'I want my daddy.'

A crack of someone Apparating inside the flat barely registered to Hermione, and Blaise appeared in front of her, Alex whimpering at the sudden appearance of him. Thankfully, the man said nothing but hesitantly opened his arms in offering. Hermione was about to deny him, but Alex stretched forth his hands towards Blaise and made a grunt of yearning at him.

"No, Alex," she whispered to him soothingly and shook her head at Blaise who ignored her and grabbed him, pulling at his body so Hermione would unhook her arms.

"You're tired. Let me," he demanded softly and she reluctantly let her hands fall to her sides and sank down on the couch, her back molding into the cushion and head slouching against the headrest. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her brows cinched together while her breathing transitioned from erratic to even.

November 2003

"You're tired. Let me," Draco whispered to Hermione with his arms stretched. She yawned at him in response whiling rubbing Alex's bare back and turned her head towards his face and lightly kissed his cheek, his weeping being muffled by her shoulder.

"Do you want to go to Daddy?" she asked her little one sleepily and let Draco take Alex and watched as he carefully situated the crying one year old on his bare shoulder.

Draco sighed with dismay and petted his boy's blond curls with a frown. "He's like a furnace. When can we give him another dose of fever reducer?"

"Not for another few hours," Hermione answered and leaned against the crib for support.

"Is there anything we can do? What the bleedin' hell did the Healers tell you?"

"They told me babies are too sensitive to magical healing remedies and have to fight off certain illnesses naturally. Unfortunately, there is no natural cure for the common cold with the exception of time."

Draco was about to respond when a sharp, painful cough erupted from Alex. The child's weeping increased in volume from the uncomfortable feeling, his cries hoarse and wheezy.

"Maybe you should try nursing him," Draco suggested while lightly bouncing his boy.

"I stopped producing milk a month ago," Hermione quietly informed in disappointment.

"Should we a try a bottle?"

She rubbed her eyes and yawned once more. "Go make one."

"What is he drinking now?"

"There's a carton that says Pedialyte on it in the fridge. Fill a bottle full it and bring it here."

"You go do it."

"But I asked you to."

"You didn't ask. You said, 'Go make one.' That's not asking. That's demanding."

"Fine. Will you please go make one?"

"No. I'll hold him, and you can go do it."

Hermione stared at him unhappily and rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand at him. "Alright, alright. I'll go get it for him."

She returned moments later with the bottle and handed it to Draco who took it and situated Alex in the crook of his arm and lodged the nipple in his mouth, silencing his cries. He drank greedily with his tiny hands on the bottle.

"My prince," Draco murmured with an endeared smile and leaned down and smooched the boy's crown causing a feeling of lustful desire to flood Hermione's womb. She licked her lips hungrily at him and caught his eye.

"I want you," she groaned in aggravation and gripped the railing of the crib in frustration. Thirty minutes ago, Hermione had been readying herself for bed, slipping on a pair of large sweat pants and a huge t-shirt, when she heard Draco unlock the apartment door. She had popped her head out into the hallway and called for him, smiling giddily as he came bounding towards her and lifted her over his shoulder. Squeals erupted from her as he carried her over to the bed and deposited her on the mattress. He quickly stripped himself of his shirt, shoes, and undergarments and then paused with a furrowed brow, asking what she was wearing. She shrugged coyly and stuck her legs out at him, and he easily bared her them with a simple pull of the material. He had kissed her ankles and like a predator, pounced on her. His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue quickly seeking out hers. Hermione and Draco had wasted little time with 'hellos' and 'how are yous', hurriedly progressing their passion. In the middle of said passion, she tossed back her hair and gathered her chin length curls in a fist and smiled down and Draco, about to tell him of her affection when a croupy wail startled them both.

"The moment he falls asleep," Draco promised darkly and despite her tiredness, Hermione's heart began to race in anticipation.

"If he falls asleep. He's been up for hours these past few nights with his runny nose, cough, and fever."

"Bloody ridiculous," Draco muttered and kissed Alex again on his damp forehead. "It's not fair he has to spend his first birthday with a cold." He looked at the Mickey Mouse clock on the wall and grinned. "It's almost 2:17. Just a few more minutes to go and he will be officially a year old."

Hermione frowned and cocked her head to the side and whispered, "I never knew. I never asked. I didn't even think." She brought a hand to her forehead and winced. "How could I have overlooked to ask? That is important."

"You fainted before the grand event. You couldn't have known."

"I know, but that's why I'm asking how could I have forgotten to ask? I'm horrible."

"Don't be dramatic. It's not a big deal."

"It is. It's not right that you know and I don't. I'm his mother."

"I'm his father," Draco countered.

"It's different. Mummies are supposed to know everything about their children. Fathers are the ones who are supposed to go along with whatever the Mummies say. Not the other way around!"

"Let it go. So you went a year without knowing. It's not the end of the world. You have the rest of his life to know what time he was born."

"I guess you're right," she mumbled and padded over towards him and peppered soft kisses on her baby's face. His eyelids were heavy and his breathing was becoming shallow.

"He's almost there, love," he said to her huskily and she stood on her toes and reached her arm around his neck and playfully nipped his chin. He lowered his head where she did the same with his lips.

"I missed you," she whispered into his mouth and then rubbed her nose against his.

"He's asleep," Draco said quietly and Hermione looked down at Alex whose eyes were closed, but his grip firm on the bottle.

"Wait a little bit before putting him back in his crib."

After waiting a few minutes, they felt it safe to place Alex back inside his crib, both giving him soft kisses before doing so. Following this, they returned to bed, sliding under the covers with a content, simultaneous sigh. Hermione shifted onto her side and propped her hand up to support her head, looking at Draco and his wistful smile.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked.

"He looks like me," he said, pride in his tone and then turned his head to face her. "Does that bother you that he looks so much like me?"

Hermione smiled a little and shook her head. "No, it doesn't. He's perfect the way he is. I love his hair. I love his eyes. I love his grin. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm just glad he won't grow up like you?"

The air shifted into something vacant and lifeless. Draco's smile disappeared and put his focus on the ceiling and said tonelessly, "Thank Merlin for that."

"Oh, Draco." Hermione shifted closer to him and put her hand on his chest and rested her chin on his shoulder. "That's not what I meant. I was talking about your personality, not about…"

"He'll never have this," he said and lifted his left arm and traced the fading Dark Mark with his right forefinger and then froze, dread seeping over his entire demeanor. "He'll ask questions. He'll see it. I need to keep it from him. I can't let him see it. He mustn't know that I was…Granger, how can you bare to look at me? Have me in your bed?"

"Have your baby?" Hermione lazily added and slithered up to his side so her front was flushed against him, her hand combing his hair and then cupped the side of his face while her teeth grazed his earlobe. "I don't want to think about all that right now. All I want is for you is to…" she dropped her voice into an inaudible whisper. A soft chuckle came from Draco's mouth, and he turned onto his side and latched his teeth onto the pulse-point of her neck.

A Few Hours Later…

Hermione blinked awake, feeling exhausted and disappointed for not sleeping longer, her bones and muscles feeling heavy and sore from lack of rest. Thankfully, though, she did not have to work today, purposefully planning cosmetic parties around Alex's birthday and not on the actual date.

The alarm clock read 5:30, and Hermione groaningly yawned. Sniffing, she rolled over and frowned when seeing Alex snuggled close to Draco bare chest, his father's arm wrapped protectively around his small body. Had her baby cried during the night?

Bending her body, she brushed a light kiss against Alex's forehead, his pacifier snuggly fit inside his mouth and an empty bottle clutched tightly in his hands as it rested on his naked torso. His skin was warm against her lips, and she noticed dried tear tracks down his chubby cheeks.

"Oh, Button," she cooed quietly as to not wake him or Draco. "Did you cry? I'm sorry I didn't hear you, love."

Figuring she was not going to be able to fall asleep again, she slithered out of bed and nicked Draco's shirt from the floor and slipped it on, buttoning the buttons on the front and walked out of the room and down the hallway. Upon entering the kitchen, she turned on the light and padded to the fridge, opening it and pulling out some butter and eggs. She then went to the cupboard and pulled out a few more essentials and began spreading them out over the island countertop, simultaneously summoning a recipe book from another cupboard with a wave of her hand. It fell in front of her and flipped to the page she had looked at the day before.

An hour later, Hermione was sitting on the counter with legs swinging freely while swiping her finger at dark brown colored goo inside a mixing bowl and then sticking the digit in her mouth and then repeating.

"What do we have here?" mumbled a knackered looking Draco as he stood at the entrance of the kitchen wearing the large sweat pants he stripped her of the previous night and holding a red-eyed Alex who was sucking on his pacifier with gusting fervor, his blond curls wild and unkempt and the empty bottle still clutched in his hands.

When seeing her, the binky popped out of his mouth onto the kitchen floor and said in a small but pointed voice, "Mamamama," and then stretched away from Draco and waggled his bottle at her. "Babababa."

"He's talking," Draco whispered in awe, a pleased grin forming on his face and twinkles of delight appearing in his eyes.

Hermione hopped off the counter and straightened Draco's shirt so it covered all her necessary bits. "Only a little. I've been teaching him to say Mommy, bottle, even Daddy." Draco cocked his eyebrow. "I've been showing him pictures of you and telling him you are his daddy. He has said it, but he forgets. I've been mostly trying to get him to walk, though. According to the parenting books, he still has time to learn, but most children stop holding on to things for support as early as ten-in-a-half to eleven months. With Alex, he holds on still, but he simply refuses to do more than that. If even that. He prefers to be held and carried."

"Is that right?" Draco asked Alex who looked at him and then wiggled his empty bottle.

"Babababa!"

"Not until you walk," Draco said sternly and earned a hit on the nose with the bottle. "Ow."

"Babababa!"

"Draco, you cannot withhold his milk in hopes he'll walk," Hermione giggled out and walked over to her boys and took Alex's bottle and went to the fridge.

Rubbing his nose, he suggested, "Perhaps we should set a bottle of milk across the room and place him on the opposite side so he can-"

"Crawl halfway, give up, and cry." Hermione nodded with a smug grin and handed Alex his bottle of milk. The boy took it with a cackle and shoved the nipple to his mouth with haste, sucking on it fervently. "I already tried that."

"At least he's crawling," muttered Draco.

"And that was a nightmare to accomplish."

"Why won't you walk?" asked Draco to Alex who turned to look at him, and pulled the bottle out of his mouth.

"Mamamama," he said and then continued to guzzle his milk.

Draco gave Hermione an 'Explain, please' expression.

"I'm not interfering with his walking progress," Hermione defended hotly.

"Do you carry him a lot?"

"If I don't, he plops his bum on the floor and shrieks while waving his little hands at me, sticking that fat bottom lip out with crocodile tears. I'd like to see you and your cold, dead heart turn away from that."

"It spoils him."

"He is one year old, Malfoy. A one year old cannot be spoiled. The parenting books say so."

"The parenting books also say he should've been walking two months ago."

"They say it is also normal if he doesn't walk until he's fourteen months. You're acting irrational about this. It's not like he won't ever learn to walk."

"Look at him, Granger." Draco held Alex out at arms-length towards Hermione. "How much does he weigh? I reckon a lot. In two months, he'll weigh more. Do you really want to be lugging him around for that long?"

"I will lug him around until he's ten years old if necessary! I don't mind carrying him. I like to carry him. I like how well-fed he is. I like everything about him. He's perfect, and you should think so, too. You're his father!" Hermione took Alex and held him close to her, his messy head resting on her shoulder as finished off the last of his milk. He then burped and discarded the empty bottle by unclutching his fingers. It fell to the kitchen floor with a sharp knocking sound and rolled towards Draco's bare feet.

"I just…" Draco slumped his shoulder and gave her an apologetic look. "I don't want him behind in anything."

Hermione furrowed her brow and rubbed Alex's back lovingly. "Behind? He won't be behind in anything. So he can't walk yet. That's okay. He can say Mommy. He can sometimes say Daddy. He can say baba. He can clap hands, giggle, play with toys. With everything else, he's right on time."

"I want him to be exceptional," Draco said crisply. "I want him to be the best."

Hermione pursed her lips and quirked both of her brows. "And if he's not?"

"He'll be starting school in a few or so years. I'm sure he will be," Draco said, more to himself than to her.

"And if he's not?" Hermione repeated. "Yes, he's going to school. Yes, he may learn to read at a normal age and pace, but what if he's not the best? You weren't the best."

Hermione saw Draco's jaw tick but was not at all concerned. She knew where he was coming from, but he had to know that Alex was not going to have a Lucius Malfoy incarnate as a father.

"I'm sure if he tries-"

"You tried," Hermione cut him off, her eyes shining with sympathy. "You tried to so hard. So many of you did: you, Coroner, Nott, McMillan. You all tried so hard, but it was me who was the best. How are you going to handle it if Alex is not the best? And I would suggest, Draco, you be very careful as to how you answer."

For a long moment, nothing but Alex's gurgling filled the silence. Finally, Draco's demeanor shifted into something softer and more accepting. He nodded gingerly and sighed. "I suppose if he can't be the best, then he sure as hell better marry the best."

It was not the response Hermione was expecting at all. "Marry the best? Alex is only a year old. We don't need to worry about that until he's like…ever."

"He will marry the best. If he can't be the best, then he'll marry the best. I think that's perfectly fair."

"Well, yes, but…" Hermione gazed at her baby with a pout. "He's my boy. I don't want to share him with some other girl. How dare you bring that up?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Believe me, Darling, you have a long while before he starts showing interest in girls."

"I don't think I'll allow him to date until he's thirty," Hermione said and then smiled at Alex who grinned back, a thick line of drool leaking out of his mouth. "It's because you are all mine."

"He's not a toy, Granger."

"Yes huh. I press buttons, and he makes noises, so he must be a toy." Hermione lightly poked and wiggled her finger at Alex's bellybutton. The boy burst into giggles and then squealed, burying his face into his mother's neck and wrapping his arms around her.

"Then you must be my toy." Draco smirked and sauntered up to her and placed his hand on her bum, giving a cheek a firm squeeze. She squeaked and blushed but didn't bat his hand away. "I push buttons on you, and the noises you make are interesting."

"Pervert," she called him which earned her rump a smack.

The oven dinged and Hermione's mouth made an 'o', handing Draco the baby and bustling over the oven.

"Did you make something?" he asked and then took a whiff through his nose. "It smells good. What did you make?"

"Alex's birthday cake," Hermione replied while opening the oven and levitating the two hot, round pans of chocolate cake out of it and placing them on top of the stove. She closed the oven door and began casting cooling charms on them.

"Ooooo," Alex noised while extending his hand towards the direction of the cakes, his palm opening and closing.

"Will he eat any of it?" Draco asked uncertainly. "Can babies eat cake?"

Hermione glanced at Alex's chunky thighs and rotund belly. "I think he'll eat it, and yes, one year olds can eat cake. Many parents wait exactly until the child's first birthday to give he or she cake for the first time. I'm doing the same."

"And it's chocolate," Draco said. "I like chocolate."

"Me, too," Hermione added and went to the cupboard and pulled out a can of frosting.

"You're not going to make the frosting?" whined Draco.

"No. Do you want to?"

"I don't know how."

"Me neither," Hermione lied and peeled back the seal of the buttercream frosting and then popped the two cooled cakes out of the pans and levitated them as she cast a Splitting Charm on them so they up into four slim discs. With those levitating, she cast a Spreading Charm on the frosting and an offset spatula and frosted the cakes before layering them on top of a plate.

Hermione was not a cook or a baker by any means. Most culinary charms were passed down from mothers, learned in culinary books, or taught in culinary school. However, she did catch onto a few spells thanks to her teenage summer visits at The Burrow with Molly Weasley.

"And all it needs now is…" Hermione placed a single candle in the center of the top layer and touched her wand to ignite the wick.

"He can blow?" Draco asked.

"Not yet, so we'll blow it out," Hermione explained and gestured for Draco to come closer with Alex. "Now let's sing."

"No."

"It's your son's birthday, Draco. His first birthday. You're not going to sing to him?"

"No."

"Fine. I'll sing to him then," Hermione huffed and then sang Happy Birthday to Alex, ending the song by tickling him underneath his chin. "Happy birthday, Baby. I can't believe I've had you for a year already."

"Happy birthday, Scorpius," Draco murmured and kissed the boy soundly on his cheek and snuggled him close to his chest.

Hermione took the candle out of the cake and brought it between her and Draco, both blowing a puff of air to extinguish the flame.