A/N: Thank you to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who put this fic on their favorite list.
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I hope the chapter is enjoyable, and I will try to update the next chapter as soon as I can. Thank you for your patience. Read and Review and enjoy!
"That's what Daddy said!" exclaimed Alex and wiggled on his mother's lap so he could sit up straightly. "He said that, too! Did you let him fly when he was eight?"
"Settle down, sweetheart," Hermione whispered into her son's ear, the boy flushing in embarrassment and nodded shyly, lowering his chin in reprimand.
"Sorry, Mommy," he replied quietly and repeated his question, this time quieter, to the man he was supposed to call grandpa or something. "Did you let him fly when he was eight?"
"As a matter of fact, Draco started flying lessons when he turned six," Lucius clipped haughtily and sent Hermione a challenging glance. "I think eight is an appropriate, if not belated age to start flying lessons."
"I don't," Hermione said firmly. "There's nothing really to gain by flying anymore. It's become more of a hobby. Floo networks, Portkeys, and Apparation are the main transportation methods used in all magical parts of the world. Walking isn't a terrible method either."
"No, but certainly primitive."
Blaise made an ahem sound to place the attention on him, sensing contention brewing close to a simmer. Maintaining peace, he asked Alex, "Do you like Quidditch? Your father played Seeker during his time at Hogwarts."
"Mom said he wasn't a very good one."
Closing her eyes, it was Hermione's turn to flush in embarrassment and heard Lucius say wryly, "Is that so?"
"Yep."
A muffled chortling sound could be heard across from her, and Hermione opened her eyes to see Blaise gurgling into his glass of water. She then looked over to Narcissa, who stared adoringly at Alex and then switched it to a heated glare, trapping it on the younger witch.
"Oh, but he was good," Narcissa stated through clenched teeth. "Very much so."
"Is that true, Mommy?" Alex asked, tilting his head back and looking up at his mother from an upside down angle.
Hermione forced a smile and lightly said, "He was better than some, I suppose, but Mummy rarely saw him play Quidditch."
"But he was a great flyer," Blaise informed. "His Quidditch skills improved with time, but his flying technique was impressive. Perhaps when your mum thinks you're old enough, we can see if that talent was passed down. Maybe when you're older you'll be a Seeker in a Quidditch team like your dad."
"Do you like to watch Quidditch?" Lucius asked.
Alex shrugged his little shoulders and leaned forward to grab his glass goblet of pumpkin juice, taking a sip before answering, "It's okay. When the Boston Black Ani-Ani-An-i-ses were playing against the Hono-Hono-Hon-o-lu-lu Hags back home last summer, I got to go on a field-trip with my school. I think I like baseball better. I got to do Little League for the last time this summer because Mom took me out when I started making homeruns every time it was my up. Nathaniel had to be taken out, too, when he'd run to second base and somehow end up back at first."
Hermione smiled at the perplexed stares Alex received and explained, "Baseball is a popular Muggle sport, especially in the States."
"But Alexander is not a Muggle," Lucius slowly said as if Hermione was unaware of such a detail.
"Thank you for clarifying that. I was beginning to worry, Mr. Malfoy."
"What Lucius meant was that-"
Hermione cut Narcissa off by tartly saying, "I know what he meant." She then looked at Lucius. "I feel it's important to not deprive my child of his non-magical heritage. I grew up in both worlds, and I feel my son has a right to, as well."
"Ah, yes." The man nodded, his eye slitting in calculation. "You're parents are Muggles, so I assume both of you take that trip often. Where are they living these days? I'm assuming they no longer live in Surrey."
Over the haze of shock from Lucius' words, Hermione vaguely heard Blaise make a coughing sound and a sharp intake of breath from Narcissa. The young woman widened her eyes in alarm, sharply asking, "And how is it you know they lived there?"
Lucius opened and then closed his mouth tightly, his lips pressing firmly together. Nervousness rolled off of him in waves because he most certainly should not know where she and her parents once lived. Instinctively, her arms tensed around Alex as she swept her gaze from Blaise to Narcissa. Blaise had taken a sudden interest in his half-empty glass of water, and Narcissa partially covered her face with her hand as if she was waiting for a disaster to happen and couldn't bear to watch.
Hermione used the silence to answer her own question as to why Draco's father had known where her parents had lived, and after a few moments, the realization felt like a punch between the eyes. During the war, Muggle-Borns were hunted down like animals by Death Eaters under the command of Voldemort. Often, the Death Eaters were assigned to search for them in Muggle England and kill them, and Lucius just confirmed that she had been sought after. Someone, possibly even he, had gone to her childhood home with the intention of killing her and her parents.
Contorting her brow from that horrifying revelation, the reality of where she was and with who sunk into her bones and rattled them, telling her she was in enemy territory and needed to leave, protect her child from the evil surrounding her.
"Oh my Gods," she rasped out and slowly stood up from her chair, holding Alex around his middle.
"Mommy?" he questioned with a frown, not liking the interlocked hands digging into his belly.
"We need to leave. We're going home right now," she said stiffly.
"Now?"
"Miss Granger, please!" pleaded Narcissa, shooting up from her seat and dashing over to the younger woman. "It was a long time ago-"
"No it wasn't," Hermione seethed as fear, anger, and deep sorrow permeated her entire body, feeling as though she would burst any second. Humiliatingly, her faced heated and tears stung her vision, so she put Alex down and moved in front of him. He didn't need to see what she was about to do. Pulling on the hem of her left sleeve, she let Narcissa see her wrath and repeated, "No it wasn't," and then quickly covered it back up.
"Mommy," Alex mumbled, his forehead pressing into her back. "I don't like when people see that. They look at you funny."
Quietly sighing in exasperation, Hermione closed her eyes briefly before tossing a glare at a pale Narcissa, guilt marring the corner's of her mouth and sagging her shoulders.
"Miss Granger," the woman helplessly tried, arms out in offering of her surrender.
"We're leaving." Hermione gripped Alex's hand and started towards the door they entered the dining room through.
"What's going on? Why are you mad?" her boy asked.
"Granger, don't go," Blaise called after her, but she ignored him and marched out into the hallway, whipping her head from left to right, attempting to remember where the entrance was located. Although it would be more ideal if she could find a Floo.
"We have to hurry, honey," she said to Alex, picking up her pace and he did the same with a confused frown.
As they passed portraits who were shouting silently at her, Hermione knew she would have to turn right up ahead where there would be the Reception Hall she saw only minutes before.
Hearing heavy footfalls of a man behind her, Hermione glanced back at Blaise and then began walking faster.
"Should I run?" she heard Alex ask uncertainly.
"Uh…" Hermione looked back again and saw the wizard getting closer. "Maybe."
She rounded the corner and faced forward to search for a fireplace but ran her nose and forehead into a hard but slightly relenting barrier, for the surface had somewhat retracted. Her sudden halt caused Alex to collide with her bum, and she tilted her head up and snapped her eyelids shut when a puff of nicotine smelling smoke shot towards them. Breathing in, she slit her eyes open and scrunched up her face to glower at the person who blocked her and her boy from freedom and then did a double-take when seeing who it was.
"You," she said to him and then remembered Blaise was right behind her and finished icily, "get out of my way."
Not bothering to wait for his response, she stepped to the left to go around him but he mirrored her actions, his lips taut around his cigarette and hands stuffed casually inside his trouser pockets.
"Please move," she said to him edgily.
"Don't let her get around you, Theo!" she heard Blaise belt from around the corner. She craned her neck to see him fly around the corner and stop abruptly to keep himself from crashing into Alex. He braced his hand against the wall to keep from toppling over.
"I can't let you get around. Sorry," Theo said, not sounding apologetic in the least but rather withdrawn and unassuming. "Blaise figured you run, thus, why I'm here standing in the middle of a hallway infecting my dead mate's dead relatives with second-hand smoke."
"Okay, Creeper," Hermione said with a muddled expressed, slightly shaking her head. Gods, Theodore had not changed at all! "But I'd rather not force you to get out of my way."
"Smoke?" he asked, presenting a tin case and popping it open one-handedly, revealing emptiness.
"There's nothing in there," she informed blankly with ascending eyebrows.
Theo blinked at her and turned the tin case so he could see into it and then plucked the shortened, burning fag from his lips and dropped it to the marble flooring carelessly. "Must've been the last one. Pity."
Out of the corner of Hermione's eye, a portrait mutedly chastised Theo for his lack of consideration to the Malfoy property.
"Who are you?" Alex piped up, popping his head out from the side of his mother's hip.
Theo merely lowered his focus instead of tilting his chin downward, the corners of his mouth twitching, but no reply was said.
"This is Theodore Nott," Blaise introduced gently. "He was a good friend of your dad's."
"Yes, say hello and goodbye," Hermione said to Alex while sending a little wandless magic Theo's way, hiding her smile of triumph when he turned to face the wall and pressed his forehead against it.
"That was unexpected," Theo dryly retorted, pressing his palms flat against the wall and struggling to detach himself from the wall.
"Granger," growled Blaise but Hermione ignored him as gripped Alex's hand more firmly and broke out into a light jog, not worried in the least the man could catch up to her. Without breaking a sweat, she incapacitated a fully grown wizard without a wand already. All she had to do was send a wandless signal to Blaise's shoelaces and he'd stumbled to the floor and for good measure, she'd ensure however he landed was where he would dwell long enough for her get back to the UPA.
"Hermione," he called out for her again.
"Don't follow me, Zabini. I mean it. This whole debacle is over. I can't even believe I agreed to this. What kind of parent am I to allow my son into this place with those people? I don't care if Alex is going to inherit the Malfoy company someday. Everything he needs to learn, he can do so from Salem without Draco's horrible parents"
"Give them a chance," he said, trying to walk alongside her.
"I did. Just now and look what happened. I got an indirect confession on..." Hermione stopped her mouth for the benefit of Alex. He didn't need to know that people wanted to kill her years ago. He'd be greatly troubled if discovering 'that people' were his grandparents.
"Don't act so surprised about any of it, Granger. Your people-"
"My people?" scoffed Hermione and came to the Reception Hall, darting her eyes about in search of a Floo. Heart racing in relief, she found one below a large clock, the fireplace probably being an entrance and exit for guests for parties and social events.
"That's not what I meant," said Blaise between clenched teeth and followed Hermione and Alex to the Floo. Picking up his pace, he ran ahead of Hermione and twirled so his back was facing the fireplace, blocking her from leaving.
"Get out of my way," she told him fiercely.
Green flames ignited and exploded behind Blaise and he jolted at uncomfortable sensation and craned his neck around with an inquiring scowl.
"No, get out of my way, you blithering dolt!" screeched a feminine voice followed by a little girl's giggle.
"Pansy?" spat Blaise and then sent Hermione and Alex an anxious glance, mouthing 'shite' and stepped out of the way.
Hermione looked from side to side, in search for exit strategies but quickly coming to the conclusion how unnecessary that was. Pansy, as well as everyone within in reach of a newspaper, was aware of Alex. What use was it to hide from her?
She watched the witch emerge from the fireplace with a little girl's fingers interlocking with her own. The woman's black hair was gathered and pinned at the base of her skull with expensive looking accessories keeping the tresses in place. Her eyes narrowed and her entire body screamed 'defense', her chin sticking out defiantly, and Hermione saw a retort ready for anyone who dared to question her abrupt visit to the Malfoys'.
Hermione's focus shifted down from the woman's face and to Pansy's rounded stomach unfairly evident underneath lush blue and silver robes and frowned, a pang of jealousy hitting in the chest. A feeling that was short-lived when seeing a young child pop her head from behind the woman's form. The child was unmistakably a girl with calculating blue eyes, not unlike Pansy's, and ginger hair held back into two buns right above her ears with black ribbons tied into bows around them. Light peach freckles dotted the bridge of her slightly-upturned nose causing Hermione to surmise that the child was unmistakably born from a Weasley and a Parkinson.
"Mummy, what are we doing here? You told Daddy we were going shopping in Diagon Alley. This is not Diagon Alley. This is Malfoy Manor not Diagon Alley. You said you were going to get me new shoes. Where are my new shoes? I want my new shoes, Mummy. The ones that I saw in the Twilfit and Tatting's catalogue. You know the white ones with the melting frozen lollies that melt so much, it turns the shoes a whole bunch of colors in minutes. I want those ones, Mummy, and I don't want to wait for Christmas."
"Okay, okay, Rose," Pansy whispered down lovingly to her daughter who pouted and crossed her arms, stomping her foot. "We'll go later, sweetheart, but right now-"
"Right now we can go get those shoes. You said we were," she said, her voice raising several octaves. Rolling her eyes, she marched over to Blaise, tilted her head back to look up at him, and stuck out her bottom lip as far as she could. "Uncle Blaisey, I want those shoes now."
Ignoring the little girl's well-practiced trembling chin, Blaise said to Pansy, "Why are you here, and why did you bring your…little princess?"
"Ah." Pansy nodded and then placed her eyes on to a grim-looking Hermione and then to the small boy behind her. Scorpius Alexander was what Draco had called him, and great Morgana, the child was a near-replicate of his father aside from his mother's curls. The dark haired witch caught the boy's stare and smiled delicately. He smiled insecurely back at her and then stuck his grey orbs on her daughter with evident fascination.
"Narcissa gave me an emergency Floo call two minutes ago, yammering about how she needed my help immediately," Pansy said.
"Narcissa called you?" inquired Blaise.
"How dare she call you?" barked Hermione and stalked forward towards the other witch. "And how dare you show up like you have a right to be here? This doesn't concern you, Parkinson, so go home."
Smirking, Pansy shrugged and opened her mouth to reply when her daughter's voice made one for her.
"Don't yell at my mummy, you cad!" bellowed Rose and slipped between her mother and Hermione, glowering angrily up at the woman.
A bit shocked by being called a cad from a little girl, Hermione stared slacked mouth down at her while Alex let go of her hand wedged himself between her and Rose.
"Don't call my mom a cad! My mom is super cool and doesn't look like a puppy like yours does!"
"Alex," Hermione hissed and despite Pansy's unwanted presence, she sent her an apologetic look. The woman actually appeared to be somewhat amused.
Rose gasped and then set her mouth into a snarl and took a step forward so hers and Alex's nose were almost touching. "Well, you talk funny! My daddy calls people like you Yanks!"
"You don't even know what that means!"
"Do, too!"
"Do not!"
"Do, too!"
"Do not!"
"Do, too!"
"What does it mean then?!"
Rose opened her mouth but nothing came out. Eventually, she sputtered, "You have girl hair!"
"Do not!" Alex touched his hair with a frown and looked up at his mother for verification that his hair did not resemble a girl's.
"Your hair is perfect, sweetheart. Mrs. Weasley's daughter is not being nice, is she?" Hermione gave a pointed glance at Rose whose eyes widened in mortification, an adult having never pointed out her behavior before. Face crumpling, she bolted and hid behind her mother, burying her weeps into her mother's robe.
"Excuse me," Pansy balked, "that's my-"
"Brat," Hermione finished and cupped Alex's shoulder and rubbed them comfortingly. "Like her mother."
Pansy breathed out through her nostrils and clenched her teeth together, digging her nails into her palms. "Let's be adults, Granger. We don't like each other. You think I'm a brat. I think you're…a very nasty word, but we have one thing in common and that's Draco. We both cared about him, so for the sake of him, I'm going to ask you to relax and please let Alex get to know his grandparents. If he doesn't like them, then he doesn't like them and there is nothing to worry about, but let him make the decision."
"He's eight, Pansy," snapped Hermione. "A decision like that is too big for him."
Pansy knelt down, resting her hands above her knees and asked Alex, "Do you want to get to know your Daddy's parents?"
Alex blinked at her and then leaned his head back to stare up at his mother and bobbed his head up and down.
To be continued…