A/N: Thank you to my readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have put this fic on their favorite list.

Thank you to: alina290, Woemcat, Angelus Draco, Dracomione-KoVeLover, Musette Fujiwara, hkmac, and Aya Diefair for the reviews.

So I think it's safe to say because I have said it before. Maybe not in clear words, but Draco is dead and Hermione is alive. A dead person and an alive person cannot end up together. Also, Lineage is not about who ends up with who at the very end. If that's what a reader is looking for in this fic, I'm sorry, but that reader will be disappointed. I would never tell someone to stop reading this, but at the same time, I don't want my readers to be upset when the ending is not like every other ending for Dramione stories. I won't say how Lineage will end but keep in mind, please, that Draco will be no more than a memory in this fic.

Anyway, I'm close to finishing up my revision of Remember the Hate which excites me to know end! :) I can soon get started on posting The Road of Forgiveness, the companion piece. *Dances for joy*

Anyway, read and review. Tell me your thoughts and feelings, even when they are hostile or sad.

A soothing tickle on Hermione's cheek roused her awake. Breathing in deeply, she turned onto her back and opened her eyes and saw Draco hovering over her with a half-annoyed yet half-amused expression. About to defend herself from falling asleep, she took notice of his hair and pinched her brows together, thinking how it had not looked like that earlier and was now a bit longer and floppy around his bangs. It was similar to the style he had at Hogwarts.

Blinking in confusion, she dropped her gaze back to Draco's face and found his features more youthful as if he regressed six almost seven years. He was also wearing his school uniform like had at Easter, but the material was not a transfigured creation and clearly was Hogwarts attire for students, completed with a green and silver tie and the Slytherin House emblem over his heart.

Tearing her stare away from Draco's clothing and young face, she noticed something odd about her bedroom. For one, it was not her room. Gasping, she sat up and goggled in alarm at the archaic architecture—lush tapestries and stone walls with a small nook near the window.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" she asked Draco and cupped the sides of her head and then patted her hair, her chin length curls gone and replace with long, wild tresses. Nodding in acceptance, she answered her own question. "Yep."

Draco snorted at her and plopped his bum down next to her. "You're not dreaming. I just did a little Charming while you slept. We better get shagging before it wears off."

He leaned down to kiss her, his lips almost meeting hers when she uncomfortably stated, "This is weird, Malfoy. I don't know if I like this." Touching her unruly hair once more and then her face, she asked, "Did you make me young, too? And what is this?" She gestured to their surroundings. "Hogwarts?"

"It's my ultimate fantasy. Well…my second, actually. I didn't think you'd appreciate being defiled during detention on Professor Snape's desk. Bloody hell, Granger, remember when I would take the mickey out of you in class. All I wanted was for you to lose your temper and for me to get caught being an arse so we could have the opportunity smudging up First Years' Potion essays from spectacular hate sex. But this will do."

As if Draco had spoken another language, Hermione stayed silent and Draco leaned over intending to kiss her again. His lips connected with her right cheek and then her left before drifting to her forehead in soft warm smooches. Warm, gooey butterflies swarmed in her belly and she almost smiled and submitted to his seduction but found his youthful exterior unsettling.

"Draco, change us back," she softly pleaded, pulling away from his mouth to see a petulant pout pucker his face. An expression he passed down to his baby boy.

"Why? This is fun."

"This is dirty. I feel dirty. I can handle the uniforms." She smoothed down the skirt and then momentarily gawked at her skinny legs before resuming her reasoning. "They're fun and kinky but I don't feel right kissing a sixteen year old boy. Don't you feel weird kissing me like this?"

"No," Draco said incredulously and cupped her stocking clad knee, rubbing and messaging it suggestively. "You were my ultimate wank fantasy. You looked like this." His hand moved from her knee and skimmed the material of her stocking until reaching the top of it and caressed the skin above. "But I took you for a knee socks kind of girl. Could've sworn seeing your knees when your robes fluttered about when walking in that prissy way you did."

Despite Hermione being quite fond of Draco, his perverseness never failed to astound her. She may start believing he fancied her some in school. Last Christmas, he said he had, but the boy in front of her had been an unforgivable little snot and to certain extents, he still was.

When attending primary school and being teased by boys for her big teeth, bad hair, and brilliance, her mother had lovingly but dishonestly told her they did it because they liked her. At Hogwarts the teasing continued but at a much more penetrating extent. After Draco had called her a Mudblood for the first time in second year, she sent an owl to her mum and wrote what the mean boy called her. She had been thirteen at the time, so she was simply fishing for parental sympathy in return. What she got was a literary version of a Howler from her dad saying,

Button, you have my permission to break his teeth and push him off a cliff!

Love, Daddy

P.S. Mum gives her best.

Unfortunately, Hogwarts lacked cliffs and Hogsmeade was low one them, as well. There were a few steep drop offs here and there, but to Hermione's knowledge Draco never went near them. He probably reckoned someone wanted to give him a good shove and stayed away. During the first Quidditch match of fifth year, Draco kept flying by the Gryffindor bleachers to get a rise out of the students. A few times, he got close enough to Hermione where she could have yanked on the bristles of his boom. With a mighty tug, Draco could've lost his grip on the handle and fallen off and down onto the field, bones broken and pride wounded. If he had landed wrong, though…

In Hogwarts, Hermione's ultimate fantasy was hurting Draco, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot. His was of shagging her in really dumb places. Sighing, she cupped Draco's face, caressing his pubescent features.

"Change us back. This," she pressed her thumb against his lips, "is not who I love or want. I want the man, not the boy. Would you really prefer having the old me instead me today?"

Hurt darkened Draco's eyes and he slumped his shoulders, waving his wand around the room, the stone walls wearing thin to bring forth Hermione's bedroom. The nook disappeared and left behind her ordinary window, and the four poster bed shifted back to her common king size bed. Her skinny, teenaged legs thickened and filled out the stockings as her hair shortened. The last thing to change was Draco. His hair, too, shortened and the youthfulness aged and matured back to that of a twenty three-year old man.

"I do miss the old you," he said just above a whisper and to her, it sounded as if Draco preferred her younger self.

"Is it because I was thinner then?" she asked shrilly and self-sonsciously, sticking her chin out defiantly and then made an embarrassing 'eep' sound when Draco brusquely attacked her, flattening her back against the mattress as he slipped his hands underneath her knees and widened her legs so he could fit himself perfectly in between.

A leer masking his face, he lowered his head to brush his nose against Hermione's and lowly said, "I noticed the buttons of your shirt straining, Granger." His hand traveled from the back of her knee, up her leg, surprisingly over her skirt, and to the waistband where he tried wedging a finger between the material and her stomach. "Ah. This is tight, too, and I bought the size I saw you last in."

Feeling like a puffed up jelly donut trying to be squeezed and dunked into a child-sized cup of tea, she lowered her gaze in shame and tears pricked her eyes. It wasn't really anything to be disheartened about. Many of the mothers she knew were in the same situation as she. They had once been thin, athletic, and energetic. Then along came a baby, and all those things got squashed. But still…

"You think I'm fat," wailed Hermione and covered her face with her hands and wept soundly into her palms. Oh Gods, how could she let herself go like that?! Draco would never want to touch her now. In moments, he was going to leap from her like she was on fire and cringe like she was a gigantic flobberworm and bolt back to England where there were beautiful fatless women with long, straight hair. She imagined these women had no hips, therefore, could not properly bear children and could not get chunky.

"What?" she heard Draco scoff and then he growled. "I don't bloody think your fat, Granger." Giving up on trying to slip his finger between her skirt and stomach, he roughly palmed her bum and squeezed. Sniffling, she uncovered her eyes and blubbered up at him.

"Really? But you said-"

"I didn't say anything. All I said was that I bought the uniform the size I thought you were."

"So you imagined me skinnier?" her voice hitched, tears threatening to spill once more.

Draco opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He shrugged and creased his brow, managing to say, "I suppose I did but that doesn't mean-"

"I'm hideous," Hermione whimpered and covered her face again, spreading her fingers to peer through when feeling soft lips pecks connect on her forehead.

"I think not, darling," he whispered against her skin and pinched her bum cheek. "Silly of you to say such nonsense when that Thane fellow thought he was going to get the romp of his life tonight. If I didn't already despise him on principle, I'd feel sorry for him. It's unkind to tease, Granger. Blokes can only handle so much from fetching ladies such as yourself before casting an Avada on themselves."

"I wasn't teasing him," Hermione defended with an offended scowl, disbelief on Draco's face. "I wasn't. He walked me home, and that was it. If he expected more than a gracious thank you and goodbye, then it was all his doing. I've made it clear to him and to any oth-…um…I mean…"

Draco snarled, his hand abandoning her derriere and pinning both of hers above her head. He lowered his face so his nose was brushing hers. "Others?"

"I don't indulge them, Draco," she stated evenly, wiggling a trapped finger so she could caress his hand. "I'm nice to anybody who shows kindness to me and that includes men. I do not taunt them intentionally."

"Others?" he repeated scornfully, like he hadn't heard anything else.

Mildly scoffing, Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "There are no others, Ferret. I'm taken."

Having got his attention by using his bedroom name, his pupils dilated and he graveled out, "You seem to forget."

"Do not!" She wriggled her hands out of his grasp and brought them to his face, the heels of her palms resting on his cheeks. "I've never cheated. Ever. And how did we get to here? You're supposed to be groveling to me. I'm the one with the self-esteem issue. I'm the hippo. How can you even bear to touch me?"

"Oh, it's quite easy," he told her and placed a hand over her breast and smirked. "Although I can't agree with you being a hippo. They are unattractive, and you, my queen, are not." Her bottom lip protruded bashfully and he chuckled, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "Granger, you manipulative minx, I don't mind the extra meat sticking to your knockers and hips. Merlin," he mumbled while experimentally squishing one of the first. "It's like when you were feeding Scorpius."

"Your way with words is so romantic," Hermione sarcastically said and frowned when he stilled, his eyes widening in fear.

"You're not with child again, are you? Because I know how that makes women-"

"I'm not," she said firmly and Draco gave her an 'I'm not so sure' look and she plainly verified, "I've had my cycle last month and this month. I've also been on a contraceptive potion which is one of the reasons why I've put on a little weight. The other is me simply being a cow."

"But such a pretty cow," he mumbled by her lips and gently kissed her, letting a hand find the fastening of her skirt. Nimbly, he popped the two buttons and started to shimmy the material down her legs when they both heard crying coming from the hallway.

"Alex," Hermione sighed out and then gave an irritated glance at Draco. "I thought you put him to bed."

"I did. I waited until he fell asleep before I even left the nursery," he groaned, casting a wistful gaze and her form. "I want to shag you, but I'll go get him."

A few moments later, Draco returned with a teary-eyed thirteen month old clutching his father's Slytherin tie like a lifeline while said father kept his mouth preciously close to the baby's forehead. Hermione resisted the urge to hold out her arms and let Draco hold their baby. She scooted over on the bed, so he could lie down with Alex curled up on his chest in what she and other mothers have called 'the stink-bug' position, his little arms and legs curled up underneath his torso with his bottom sticking up in the air.

"Damn," she heard Draco curse under his breath but not at all out of anger, his eyes fixated on the whimpering child snuggled into his chest. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as the baby turned his head and started gnawing on his tie.

"That's not for eating," he said to the boy. The boy peered up at him with challenging grey eyes as if to say, 'everything is for eating, silly man.'

Hermione shifted onto her side, propping her head up with the support of her elbow to watch her boys interact with each other, feeling endeared and aroused at the same time.

Alex detached his mouth from his father's tie and stared up at him with spittle gathering beneath him. His mouth opened and closed a few time before saying, "Dada," and patting his hands on the man's chest.

Hermione gasped in delight and watched Draco's Adam's apple bob beneath his collar, joy igniting his entire demeanor.

"Did you hear that, Granger?" he rasped and picked the boy up by his sides, raising him high. The boy giggled and kicked his chubby legs in excitement.

"Dada," the boy said again, only louder and his father placed him next to his mother and began to gingerly poke and tickle his protruding belly. The boy's giggles turned into shrieks of mirth as his legs squirmed and arms wiggled.

"Is your daddy tickling you?" Hermione cooed and joined in on the fun, stroking feather light touches on Alex's little feet and toes. She did that a few times, elated at seeing and hearing her baby's laughter and the happiness coming from Draco.

She stopped her tickling and zoomed in and began showering Alex's face with kisses and to her astonishment, Draco seized his ministrations on the boy and mirrored her actions, smooching every patch of skin he came into contact with. A few times, he and Hermione descended onto the same spot and their heads would bump. Each time that happened, she grabbed his face and planted a hot, passionate assault on Draco's mouth before they both resumed their work on the baby who lay there contently. Daily, his mother did this to him, so it was not at all bothersome when his father joined in.

This went on until Hermione began to wheeze, placing a loving hand on Alex's tummy. "I'm out a breath."

Draco gave one last bidding kiss to his boy's cheek and then said to her, "I love you, Granger."

Fighting off that feeling of unease, Hermione grinned and replied, "I love you, too, Malfoy."

"Mama!" Alex called out from between them and turned over onto his belly and maneuvering his little lump of a body, so he could sit on his bottom. He clapped his hands and laughed.

"Does baby want to play?" Hermione then looked at Draco. "Hand me my wand. It's right there on the nightstand."

Draco craned his body and snagged her wand, handing it to her. "What are you going to play?"

"You'll see," she said to him and waved her wand, a mist of sliver magic spouting from the tip. It took a corporeal form and scurried from the edge of the bed towards Alex who cackled in delight and crawled towards the creature to meet it halfway.

"Is that…Is that a scorpion?" Draco inquired in awe, smiling when at Alex trying to grab the telson. "That's your patronus?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said and nibbled on her bottom lip. "But it wasn't always. It was something else when I was in Hogwarts. Honestly, since the Battle, I've never had to cast a patronus. A few weeks ago, I was talking with one of my clients and she said her kids love playing with her patronus. That sounded like a spectacular idea. I knew Alex would love it, so I cast one, expecting an otter and got a scorpion, instead."

"Brilliant," Draco murmured humbly and then frowned. "An otter? That's what you said it was?"

"Yes."

"Isn't the otter a cousin of the weasel family, or something or other?"

Hermione lowered her head on the pillow and softly replied, "Sometimes people can change. Their feelings, their hope, their love change. When that happens, their corporeal patronus can, too."

Draco nodded, a pained expression clouding his features. His right hand gripped the sleeve covering his left forearm. "I can't cast one."

"Are you sure? Have you tried?" Hermione asked.

"Dark wizards can't, Granger," he said in self-disgust.

"I know, but have you tried? You're not a dark wizard, Draco, so I don't see any reason you can't conjure one."

"I took the Mark. That's why I can't. It's why my father can't."

"Snape took the Mark," Hermione whispered. "Yet, he had a patronus."

Draco's jaw ticked and he stared at her unbelievingly. "I sincerely doubt that. He may have been a bleedin' spy or what have you but all Dark Mark carriers were dark wizards. Some of them may have reformed, but their magic is tainted."

"It was a doe," she said. "I never saw it, but both Harry and Ron did. Draco, I'm sure you can cast one. If you'd like, I can teach you and…and maybe Alex can play with two. He'd like that."

To be continued...