A/N: Thank you to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have favored this fic. Thank you, thank you!
Thank you to: Vaneesa85, hkmac, Aya Diefair, Jessica682, Angel Girl5, and pepperluck for the reviews. I got good comments and such. We shall see what this chapter has in store.
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Alex groaned and stumbled over to the nearest suitable place he could rest. He saw a fluffy looking couch up ahead and climbed upon it and exhaled shakily. Hermione watched him carefully and unlinked her arm from Blaise's.
"Will this be okay?" he asked and she looked around and shifted uncomfortably on her feet, throwing a dubious glance at Blaise.
"I feel a tad underdressed, Zabini," she said to him, overwhelmed by the royal golden and white color scheme of what she assumed was the sitting room. Draco's apartment had been nice and tasteful in a businessman sort of way, but this place was somewhere out of a fairytale. It looked almost absurd to see her little boy lying supinely on the satiny-looking sofa dressed in his jeans and untied sneakers. "Where are we?"
"My place," Blaise answered while shirking his cloak and letting out an *ahem*. A house-elf appeared with a bow and took the cloak and placed it on the rack near the door behind them. The elf then bowed again, even though his master was not facing him, and disappeared.
"Really?" Hermione folded her arms and canted her hips to the side, tapping her foot, throwing him an incredulous stare. "You couldn't have walked the ten feet and put your own damned cloak on the rack?"
Blaise smirked at her, fire dancing in his dark eyes. "I only did it to see if I could get a rise out of you?" He chuckled in self-pleasure. "And I succeeded. It's good to see not all has changed about you, Granger."
Hermione clenched her teeth together and then forced herself to relax. Blithering ponce! He was just like Draco with his haughty ways and wretched personality, thinking it funny to boss around a house-elf merely to get a rise out of her. That was exactly the kind of thing Draco would have done to her.
"You make me ill," she told him in a calm, matter-of-fact voice which caused Blaise to burst into a full fit of chortles.
"What is he laughing at, Mommy?" Alex asked weakly from the sofa, his chin propped up on the armrest.
"Mr. Zabini thinks it's funny to boss around house-elves," Hermione explained to him.
"Mommy says only mean, rich, snobby people have them. Are you mean, rich, and snobby?"
"Yes."
"You're vile," Hermione said and rolled her eyes, sighin as she swept her gaze around the place again. "And where did you take us?"
"This is my London flat. I stay here when I'm on business."
Something caught Hermione's eye that had been stuffed between the cushion and armrest of the sofa chair next to her. Flicking her eyes on Alex who was looking up at the chandelier, she looped her finger around the scrap of fabric and pulled it out, letting the dark green satin bra dangle in front of Blaise.
"For business you said?" Hermione swung the lingerie like a pendulum with an enlightened expression upon her face. Sheepishly, Blaise snagged the fabric and tucked it into one of his trouser pockets, and she snorted. "That's lovely, Zabini. It all is, but I'm not sure your business flat is suitable for these current circumstances."
"Just mind Alex's eyes and all will be fine," he suggested lightly and Hermione balled up a fist and punched him in the bicep, earning a pained wince from the man.
"Prat," she called him. "You're foul."
"You're hungry," he said and grabbed her forearm, intending to guide her to the dining area, but she planted her heels into the carpet. "Don't be this way, Granger. I know you don't want to be here, but there are not many other places where you can go and get the privacy you and Alex need."
Hermione stared at him grimly before nodding. "Fine."
"Are you hungry?"
Hermione nodded again.
"What would you like?"
Hermione shrugged and sucked in a sharp breath and then shrugged again. "Anything."
"What would Alex like?"
"If I ask him, he'll say he's not hungry. He'll eat whatever is already provided."
Blaise led her to the dining area and Alex lethargically followed, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks due to another wave of realization that his father was gone.
"Oh, Sweetheart," Hermione said to him at the dining table and petted his head as he wept into his glass of water. Wetness dewed her vision, and she dabbed underneath her bottom lashes with the sleeve of her sweater. To distract her, she focused her attention on the dining area. It was not particularly large but was of modest size with a nice mahogany dining table accompanied with stuffed chairs. Blaise sat at the head of the table and Hermione sat adjacently to him and Alex next to her. A few minutes of sitting in silence, with the exception of her and Alex's sniffles, the house-elf walked past the swing door of the kitchen with three floating trays. The elf snapped his finger, and the trays descended onto the table with the covers removed. Hermione closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.
"Do you like macaroni and cheese?" asked Blaise.
Hermione then burst into tears.
"You haven't touched your tea," Narcissa pointed out to Pansy who was shifting uncomfortably in her chair.
"It's a little warm for tea," the younger witch mumbled and pointed the business end of her wand at herself and cast a Cooling Charm, humming in delight. "That's better and besides, I didn't spend the majority of the day trying to speak with you so I could have tea, Mrs. Malfoy. You also didn't allow me through the Floo just so we could have tea. We're both grown women and don't need frivolous things like tea to cover the fact that we both have much to discuss."
"Do we?" Narcissa feigned surprise and sipped daintily at her tea observing Pansy over the rim of her teacup. The poor girl had definitely seen better days. Her dark hair had probably started off curled and styled that morning but was now pinned up into a bun with strands falling out. Her maternity dress was fashionable, but the girl was plainly doing her best to stay awake.
"Don't play coy, Mrs. Malfoy. I know you want to know things, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I no longer feel obligated to withhold what I know about your grandson and Hermione Granger."
"I know enough," Narcissa lied with a small smile to provoke the younger witch. Her grin faded when Pansy solemnly shook her head.
"You know nothing. So you know about Draco's secret child. Mrs. Malfoy," Pansy leaned towards the middle of the table, "that is only the tip of a very large, very narrow and steep mountain. If you knew everything else, you would not have let me come over."
"Alright, Pansy, you have won. Tell me. Start from the beginning," Narcissa said, sitting up straight in preparation for what the younger woman had to say.
"Before I do, I want my intentions to be clear. I am not gossiping. I am not saying any of this out of spite because of my low opinion of Hermione Granger. This is her business, but it was Draco's, as well. He's no longer with us, so I feel you have a right to some of the details I picked up these last few years. I sincerely doubt that woman will tell you any of this."
Sensing the gravity in Pansy's tone, Narcissa asked hesitantly, "Should I fetch Lucius?"
"I think what I'm about to tell you should stay between us for now."
"But-"
"I have learned there are things that husbands should not know."
Narcissa nodded and said nothing, swallowing nervously and setting her hands on the table. "Tell me what you know."
December 2007
"Thank you for inviting us," said Pansy to Lucius and Narcissa. She had her arm linked through her stony-faced husband's while she waved her other hand at the host for the evening as Ron guided her to the Floo.
Once home, Pansy dusted off her robes, ignoring her husband as he Floo-ed in behind her, muttering unintelligible curses under his breath. Her eye caught something under the Christmas tree, and she balked, "Oh no! I forgot to give Draco his present. Ron, would you please go back and give it to him?"
Ron threw his body on to his sofa chair facing the fireplace. He had a drink already in his hand. "No."
"Please. It's late. I want to give the children kisses before they go to bed and…Ronald, we talked about this." Pansy shuffled over and extracted the half-empty glass of scotch from his clutch and dodged his pout. "No drinking. Remember what the Mind-Healer said."
"Bloody hell, I couldn't have a drink at the party. I can't have a drink in my own house?"
"Absolutely not," snapped Pansy.
"I can have one drink."
"It's never one drink with you. Now get up and go kiss your children goodnight because you won't let me. I need to give Draco his present." Vanishing the glass, she then pulled on Ron's hand as hard as she could.
"Alright, alright. I'll go give the kids some attention." Ron climbed to his feet, his sulk still in place.
"And make sure Rosie takes her fever-reducing potion."
"Yeah, yeah." Her husband waved his hand dismissively and started climbing up the stairs.
Pansy quickly Floo-ed back to the Malfoy Manor and hurriedly stepped out of the way for a departing guest, giving the wizard a bidding smile.
"You're back," Narcissa said in mild surprise, turning away from a witch she was talking to.
"I forgot to give Draco his Christmas present," Pansy explained and gestured to the gift in her hands.
"Oh, you barely missed him. He's probably at his suite."
"I'll just go over there then. Thank you," Pansy said and Apparated outside of Draco's flat door and knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again.
Still no answer.
"Draco," she called through the door. "It's Pansy."
Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for any sound but heard nothing. Experimentally, she placed her hand on the doorknob and turned it. Of course it was locked. The idea of hastily popping inside and leaving the present on his desk came into mind.
The lights were off and the flat was quiet when she appeared in the middle of the sitting room. She walked over to Draco's office door and knocked to be sure he was not around and then slowly opened the door. She placed the gift on the desk and decided to write him a quick note that explained how the present came to be on his desk.
A discarded quill lay flat on a piece of parchment, and Pansy sat down on Draco's chair and picked it up before going in search for some parchment. Finding none on the desk, she began opening and closing side drawers. In the bottom, right-hand drawer, she found a fresh square of parchment and took it, closing the drawer quickly.
Dipping the quill tip into an open bottle of ink, she wrote the D of Draco and then stopped, looked up from her letter, and then back at the bottom-right hand drawer. Dropping the quill, she blinked and tentatively opened the drawer. Her breath hitched at what she saw and with insecure fingers and wide eyes, she reached her hand in and picked up the framed picture.
A crack echoed through the flat, and Pansy nearly dropped the picture, her heart beating rapidly from being startled. From the main room, she heard muttering coming closer.
"I forgot. How could I bloody forget?"
Draco turned on the light of the office, and Pansy sat frozen in his seat, the picture frame pressed against her chest. When he saw her, he stopped and gave her an alarmed stare.
"Pansy, what are you doing here?"
Pansy blinked and raised an eyebrow and flipped the picture frame over with a twist of her wrist and asked, "Who's this?"
Cautiously, she watched him walk further into the office, distrust plain on his face. "What are you doing here?" he repeated.
"I forgot to give you your Christmas gift, so I brought it over. I went to leave a note and found this." With her hand cupping the frame, she tapped it with her pointer finger. "Who is this?"
"Pansy…"
She looked at the photograph again and cinched her eyebrows together and carefully studied the curly blond-haired boy who was waving at her with a cute grin. The boy looked about four and had round, rosy cheeks and was sitting in a restaurant booth. Placed in front of him was a large bowl of chocolate ice cream covered with caramel and whipped cream.
A stab of betrayal penetrated her heart and soul and her vision began to blur which was stupid because just a silly picture of a boy who looked like…
Sniffling, she put her eyes back on Draco who she knew was grasping for ideas on what lie to feed her. Swallowing thickly, she asked a different question, "Who's the mother?"
"Pansy, I…" Draco's speech faltered and he shook his head and growled out, "I can't explain this to you right now. I have to go."
She stood from the chair, her head shaking, too. "You are not leaving," she stated in a low voice. "You are not leaving until you have explained this." She lifted up the picture
"You don't understand that I have to leave," Draco near yelled and marched over to the desk and snagged the piece of parchment Pansy had found the quill on moments before. His eyes skimmed the writing on it and then stuffed it inside his trouser pocket muttering, "Shite."
"Draco, don't you dare leave! You will explain this to me right now!" Pansy shouted and waved the picture at him. "Who is he? Y-Y-Your…"
"I have to go!" Draco barked in exasperation and then chuckled like his throat was swelling. He looked away. "I have to leave. Don't…" he vaguely pointed to the photograph while walking backwards out of his office. "Don't tell anyone."
"You will explain this to me right now! I'm your friend, Draco! I'm your…Draco wait-"
He was gone with a crack, and she stared wet-eyed at the spot he Disapparated from.