Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable work or characters.

A/N: First things first, my amazing huffletwin needs a break (and she deserves it!) But I am desperately looking for an alpha and/or beta! If you're interested, and can use google docs drop me a pm! I am so incredibly sorry for the wait you guys! In my defense I am changing careers and opening a new business and things are crazy and chaotic here. I never meant to wait this long but since fanfiction is a hobby and not, you know, a real paying job. Priorities. Ugh. Hermione is 28/29 weeks here.

Chapter 14

"Are you sure I can't murder him?" Ginny asked around a mouthful of ice cream. "I have brothers, I can make it look like an accident."

Hermione shook her head, scraping the last of her own ice cream out of the bottom of the pint. She had taken off from the banquet rather quickly, managing to catch Harry's eye from across the room as she hurried towards the floo. Luckily the man had used it as an excuse to step away from those that were fawning over him at the time. They ended up back at his place and while he got the boys ready for bed, she and Ginny curled up on their bed eating the rest of the ice cream in the freezer.

"He isn't worth it," Hermione said lowly, trying not to look up as she swirled her spoon around the sopping mess in the bottom of her container.

Ginny was silent and when Hermione finally looked up the witch was looking at her sadly, "It's okay to be upset Hermione but as much as I want to hex him into next year I also think you need to talk to him."

Hermione started to shake her head.

"What if your baby asks about him, what will you say?"

"I don't- I don't know," Hermione admitted and she bristled at the thought.

"Having a child with someone is hard enough," Ginny said softly, "Add in pureblood bullshite and it's only going to be more complicated. I'm not saying you have to like the git but at least knowing where he stands… and hey, maybe he will pay you off and you can take me on a vacation."

Hermione glared at her.

"I'm only joking," the witch laughed and Hermione shook her head, swirling the dregs of her ice cream around once more, lost in thought.

She spent the rest of her weekend at Harry and Ginny's, helping with Jamie and playing with Teddy. She also readied herself for the inevitable. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that Ginny had a point. She was carrying the Malfoy heir whether she liked it or not and despite it all, she wouldn't change that for anything. However, it also meant that she needed to discuss things with Malfoy; mainly his intentions. She wasn't lying when she said she was fine with letting him off the hook but that also meant she would have to research how exactly to go about doing that and the back and forth had to stop. He couldn't say one thing to her and then decide differently when he was with his mates, she wouldn't allow it. She couldn't.

She spent Sunday evening at the Burrow, as she usually did and for a while she could push away the problems she was facing as she laughed with the Weasleys. She even found, despite her hesitation, that she liked Ronald's new wife. She was quiet and even tempered and they got on well; better than she and Ron had if she was being honest with herself.

By the time she floo'd home that evening she only changed into her pyjamas and fell into her bed; ignoring the stack of letters the owl had dropped onto her windowsill not caring much for more written abuse. She slept restlessly that night, waking several times as she dreamt of Malfoy's words from the banquet; only this time he was spitting them at her. She was harried as she rolled out of bed the next morning, her eyes heavy with sleep and the baby restless inside of her. She already knew it was going to be a rough day but when Charlie arrived at her door, a daily prophet in hand, she knew it was only going to get worse.

"What?" she nearly screeched, grabbing the paper from him as she read the headline.

First Halfblood Heir for Malfoy Family?

"How?" she squeaked, her eyes roaming the words printed before her as the photo changed between one of her and Harry and Ron together to another of Malfoy after his trial.

"It says someone overheard you arguing at the banquet," Charlie offered, "I wanted to get over here before you saw it. It might be a good thing you closed your floo."

"Dammit," she swore, reaching up to brush a stray hair from her eye. "I'm glad the pressure is off of you and Ron but this isn't- I didn't want-"

Charlie stepped up then, reaching out to grasp her forearm with his and she met his soft blue eyes. He opened his arms in invitation and she gratefully stepped into them, letting him wrap her up in his muscular embrace. "You know I would gladly take the fall for this one if it meant you didn't have to go through this," he said quietly, "I think Ronald would too actually, the prat."

Hermione laughed wetly into his shirt as she looked up to meet his eyes once more. They were soft, as was usual, but also kind and worried. As she held his gaze she wondered how easily it would be to lean up and catch his lips with her own. Sure there wasn't a spark but that didn't mean they couldn't make something, right? Of their own accord her feet moved until she was on her tiptoes, her hands pulling Charlie's head towards her slightly and she saw his eyes widen a fraction of an inch. It would be so easy, she thought once more, but also wrong and instead of touching his lips she turned her head to the side, placing a soft kiss on the side of his cheek. "Thank you Charlie," she said quietly giving him a watery smile.

"Anytime Herms-"

She groaned, reaching out to smack him on the chest, "You promised."

Charlie laughed then, tipping his head back as he guffawed, "I lied."

They floo'd to the ministry together then, planning on lunch together and both of them arguing over the sensibility of nicknames as Charlie tried- unsuccessfully- to get her to agree to the name 'Charlie' for her unborn child. She was still smiling, and thankful for the man, as she reached her office and stopped short.

"Just let me see her," the man said as Dennis shook his head, his wand pointed at the pale haired man before him.

"You can leave now Malfoy or I can call ministry security and have you forcibly removed."

"It's okay Dennis," she said finally, stepping forward and swallowing thickly against the knot of nerves that settled in her throat.

Dennis didn't move, his wand still pointed at Malfoy's throat with his eyes narrowed into slits. If it weren't such a serious situation it might have been amusing to see her assistant looking so fierce.

"Dennis-" she said again, moving forward to unlock her door with her wand and giving him a pointed look. Finally, mercifully, he dropped his wand and took a step back as the people who had stopped to watch the exchange started to move. "Malfoy?"

She held the door open for the wizard, letting him walk past her into her office and she shut the door, using her wand to cast a muffliato on the door which she was fairly certain people were clammering to listen at.

"Granger. You're floo wasn't open and you didn't answer my owls, we-" Malfoy started as soon as she turned around but she stopped him, holding her hand up and shaking her head.

She used the silence to move round her desk and set her things down, checking her memo's before she finally looked up at him.

"Malfoy, as I've told you before-"

"I wasn't speaking of you."

They both spoke at the same time and Hermione scoffed at his words while he looked downright affronted.

"I think it was very clear-" she began and ignored his protests as she continued on, "In any case, I do want to apologize for my outburst, I know that you probably didn't want it spread across the prophet's front page. I assume you'll want to make your own statement soon."

"Granger-"

"I haven't had a chance to look into pureblood blood traditions yet but as I've said before if there's anyone that can find a way around it, it's me."

"Granger, stop-" he started again.

"In any case, I've told you and your mother that I don't need anything from you and I meant it. I'm not looking to be paid off-"

"That's what I'm here for," he said firmly and she nodded once.

"Give it to someone who needs it, maybe one of the charities you're so fond of-"

"Dammit Hermione will you just shut up and listen to me," he snapped as he leaned on the desk, his long fingers splayed across the wood as he slapped it. She jumped slightly, her voice failing her. "What you heard was not what you think you heard. There are many things I don't speak of around mixed company and there are only a handful of people who know about the important details of my life. In this case, the men in that room are some of my oldest friends-"

"I don't care who you tell Malfoy-"

"I'm not finished," he seethed and she pressed her lips together, narrowing her eyes as he spoke again, "I wasn't in New York for company business when I met you and when I left that morning it was to meet with someone who, up until that point, I never knew existed. It was this same person I was talking about with my friends last night."

"I don't understand-" Hermione said, her brow furrowed.

Malfoy nodded, "I wouldn't expect you to; you see there are certain traditions that come with being pureblood. Outdated and archaic as they may be. That child, for one," he pointed at her abdomen, "Is my heir apparent and nothing anything you can dig up will change that, even if I wanted it to. Which, for the record, I don't."

She said nothing as the baby inside of her pressed heavily onto the side of her abdomen and she shifted uncomfortably under the movement as Draco continued.

"Another is that pureblood men often take mistresses on the side. Pureblood marriages are intended not for love but for procreation and for providing heirs not for-" he swallowed, "sexual pleasure. Which is what you heard us speaking of last night."

She narrowed her eyes, "You're not making any sense."

Draco stood up then, pulling himself to his full height as he looked at her, "When I said I was going to pay her off I wasn't speaking of you Hermione, I was speaking of someone else. I was... speaking of my mother."

"What?" she asked dumbly.

"My mother-" he sighed, "Or, well the woman who gave birth to me."

She felt her brow furrow at that, "You're not making any sense, Narcissa is-"

Trailing off she met Draco's pained gaze and it finally hit her and she sat down heavily in the chair behind her.

"She's not your mother."

Draco sat down in the chair across from her, "She's my mother in every sense of the word that matters but no, she's not- she isn't my real mother."

"And you didn't know…"

"Until I met you in New York," he said quietly, his eyes dark and stormy. "I had received a letter from someone claiming to know information on my father but they wanted to meet in person; when I went-" he trailed off, clearing his throat, "It's where I went the morning that I left you."

"I didn't know, I-"

Malfoy blinked, "How would you? I've not told- well save for my mates last night and my mother no one else knows."

"How?"

Draco took a deep, shuddering breath before he continued, "My mother and father were married young, right out of Hogwarts. It was a match like most pureblood matches but they were lucky in that they could tolerate each other. Some might even say they cared for one another. My father- well my father was a right bastard but even he was better than my mother's family. They had one daughter who disappointed them after all and they wanted to make sure that never happened again. They were...strict on my mother, on Bellatrix, in the hopes that they wouldn't rebel, that they would… understand their places in the world. Their punishments for insubordination were swift and excessive and eventually my mother realized that conceiving and carrying her own child wouldn't be an option."

Hermione felt ill as she thought of the pain of the cruciatus curse, of staring down the wand that was torturing you with your own parent behind it.

"It was around the time of one of her losses that my father took a mistress, when she conceived she threatened to tell the wizarding world of the truth behind my parentage but my father used his reputation and the backing of Voldemort to convince her otherwise. She didn't- she didn't want me; she only wanted the galleons that came with the Malfoy name. She was given an allotment, sent away, and I was raised by my mother. And she is my mother Granger," he said lowly, his eyes pleading, "But now she's back and she's threatening to speak to the tabloids. To sell her story, my story. My mother would be ruined and I can't, I won't let that happen."

She could feel it then, the desperation with which he spoke. His mother, Narcissa, meant the world to him and he would do whatever he could to protect her. She knew the feeling well. "What does she want?"

Draco laughed ruefully, leaning back in his chair as he ran a hand roughly down his face, "Galleons and lots of them. More so than I can give after the reparations from the war. My father paid a hefty sum to keep her quiet but the power of his name, of his reputation, kept her at bay but now…"

Hermione thought of the headline that she had read nearly a year ago. The photo of the criminal and grandfather to her unborn child had shown a sickly pale man with hollow cheeks and dead eyes. He had died in Azkaban, presumably eaten away by his own guilt now that the dementors were gone. "But now that he's gone-"

Draco nodded standing from the chair once more, moving gracefully to look at the bookshelves that lined either side of her faux window, "She's back and she isn't to be swayed."

"Surely you can do something, your family lawyers are-"

"And what Granger? Prevent a witch from printing the truth? Or telling their side of a story?" Hermione swallowed as she thought of Ronald's book and suddenly she felt for the man before her.

She once more thought of the lengths she had gone to protect her parents, ignoring the dull ache that seemed to settle inside her chest whenever she thought of them. If someone had threatened them what would she have done. She tried to place herself in Draco Malfoy's shoes then as suddenly something dawned on her.

"So that night, at the gala-" she thought of his hard words and his cold gaze as she told him of her pregnancy.

Draco laughed ruefully, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers as he turned back around to face her, "It seemed the universe was playing a joke on me; a very ironic joke. That night I wasn't, I knew you were telling the truth but it just seemed too convenient. Too coincidental. I guess as they say, like father like son." He spat the last words bitterly and Hermione tilted her head slightly as she stared at him.

He certainly did look like his father, but there was something else, "You're nothing like him."

He raised a brow, "Aren't I?"

"No," she shook her head, "You aren't."

He said nothing more as he studied her face as though he were looking for something written in the planes there before he finally let his shoulders relax slightly.

"But," she started, "We can't keep doing this, this back and forth. You're either here or you aren't."

"I am-" he started to protest.

She held up her hand, "You're here now but where have you been the past week?"

He had the decency to look guilty as he stared at her from across the desk but he offered no explanation.

"You say you want this Draco, you say you don't want off the hook you can't get upset for some silly reason and disappear."

"I know-"

"Do you?" she grimaced at the sharpness of her tone. "I just mean-"

"You're right," he said quietly, "I was upset. I let the situation with- that woman," he ground out- "influence my opinions on you. When I saw the daily, I was upset. Upset that Weasley was there, where I should have been, talking to my son-"

"Or daughter-" Hermione corrected him.

She saw the corner of his lip quirk up, "Talking to my child," he amended, "I let my bias of the family cloud my judgement and I assumed the worst."

"Charlie is- family," she said softly, "As are the rest of the Weasleys. They're- they're the only family I have left and they will be a big part of my child's life. And Harry too. You're going to have to accept that."

"I understand, and I'll try," he nodded, and she was surprised to find that his face held no malice, no disdain, until- "I still don't like Weaselbee."

She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to retort just as a knock sounded on the door, "Come in."

"Sorry to interrupt," Dennis said, without sounding sorry at all, as he popped his head in the door, "Your Dimwoult hearing was pushed forward, it's at half nine now."

Hermione swore as she glanced at the clock and grabbed her stack of files from her desk, "I really do have to run Draco-"

He nodded, "Would you like to meet for lunch?"

She bit her lip, "I promised Charlie actually-" His lips pulled tightly together at that and she pushed forward and she pocketed her wand, "Are you free tomorrow?"

"I am," he said with a nod, the frown marring his features slowly ebbing away. "I'll owl you?"

She nodded as he walked out of the door of her office then and with one last glance over his shoulder walked away. It wasn't until later that she realized for the first time since she had ever met Draco Malfoy she was beginning to understand him.

A/N: This was almost another cliff hanger but I thought I had tortured you all enough.