Draco wasn't lying when he said he hadn't seen anyone from England since the war—the only other magical person he and Lyra ever saw was his mother, and she now lived in France.

Logically, he knew that someday he'd see someone from his past, but the fact that Hermione Granger moved to his town? Well, he hadn't seen that coming.

To top it off, Granger was all that Lyra wanted to talk about for the rest of the week. Question after question pouring from her eagerly—after all, Granger was the first magical person his daughter had encountered outside of family.

Of course, his lack of familiarity with the Gryffindor did not deter his daughter and her myriad of questions. He had absolutely no idea what the witch's favorite color, subject in school, animal, or seasons were. At least, he got a reprieve from all the questions when his daughter was at school, though even at work he often found his thoughts drifting to the witch who now resided in what he considered his town.

He hoped, like his daughter, to get some answers while she visited for dinner—something to put his mind at ease.

Lyra's questions petered out by mid-week, but when Friday evening came around, she started back up again. Draco breathed a sigh of relief when she went upstairs to shower after dinner while he took care of the dishes.

A short while later, his daughter's footsteps pounded down the stairs, nearly shaking the frames of the pictures on the wall. He smiled softly at the sight of her hair tumbling free from the towel piled on top of her small head. She padded forward, holding out the comb and conditioning spray clutched in her tiny hands.

"Daddy, can you brush my hair?" she asked.

"Of course, Princess," he said, as he sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to him. He unwrapped the towel and began to spray her wet hair.

"Were you friends with her, daddy?" Lyra asked as he worked the conditioner into her curls.

"With who?" he asked distractedly, working on a particularly snarled knot.

Lyra huffed. "With Miss Hermione," she clarified.

"Oh, uh, no. We weren't friends," he said.

"Why not?" she asked simply.

Draco had always made a point to be as honest with his daughter as possible, so he sucked in a breath and began to explain as he picked up the wide-tooth comb and started working on her hair. "I was taught that there are different types of witches and wizards and how they come to be. One type is pureblood, which means that both parents have magic, as does everyone in their family. The other two types are half-bloods and Muggle-borns—"

"What's a Muggle?" Lyra interrupted.

"It's what witches and wizards in Britain call a person without magic. In America, they call them No-Maj, meaning someone who has no magic."

"Oh, okay."

"Half-bloods are when one parent is magical and the other is either a Muggle or Muggle-born. Muggle-borns are those born with magic but both of their parents are Muggles. Does that make sense? It's okay if it doesn't."

Lyra nodded her head slowly. "Uh-huh, I think so. You're pureblood, right? Since Gramma Cissy has magic and so did your daddy?"

"That's right. Everyone in my family has had magic in them so we come from a whole line of pureblood witches and wizards, which is important because it's why Miss Hermione and I were not friends in school. You see, growing up, I was taught that anyone who wasn't a pureblood wasn't important—that they were beneath us and we were better than them."

Lyra turned her head to look at him as she frowned. "But, why? They have magic, too."

Draco sighed and kissed his daughter's forehead. Already she was wiser than he'd been at twice her age.

"That's just what we were taught by our parents, as they were by their parents before them. We were raised to think that Muggle-borns, like Miss Hermione, stole magic from someone who had it and that those like her were beneath us."

"That's silly, Daddy," Lyra scolded. "Why would you think that?"

Draco sighed. "I don't know, Princess. I guess I didn't think for myself…and because of that, I was really rude and mean to Miss Hermione at school."

Lyra's mouth dropped open and she turned to face him again. "You mean you were a bully to Miss Hermione?"

Draco gave a nod. "I was, back then."

"Well, did you say you were sorry?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

Draco sighed and shook his head. "I left England soon after you were born and haven't seen her since."

"Then you can apologize tomorrow," she stated, as if that would solve everything, and turned her head back around so he could continue brushing her hair.

"I don't know if she'll accept my apology."

"Of course she will," Lyra said confidently.

"You think so?"

"Daaaaad," she said, and he could practically hear her rolling her eyes, something she picked up from school. "She wouldn't have said yes to dinner with us if she didn't think you were sorry."

"To be honest, I think she's just coming over because you gave her your pleading eyes," he said tugging on one of her curls playfully.

Lyra was quiet for a moment before she asked, "Am I a pureblood?"

Draco lifted his daughter and set her on his lap. "Honest answer?"

She nodded her head.

"You are either pureblood or half-blood, depending on who your mother is. But no matter what, you are mine, and that is the most important thing. You could even be a Squib and I'd love you just the same."

Lyra scrunched her nose. "A squid?"

Draco chuckled. "No, not a squid. A Squib," he said, enunciating the last syllable. "That's someone who has magical parents but doesn't have magic themselves. You don't have to worry about that though, as you definitely have magic in you."

Lyra perked up. "Really? Are you sure?"

Draco nodded. "Very sure. When you were a toddler and threw a tantrum, usually something flew across the room and broke." He shrugged as her mouth dropped open. "It's normal and happens all the time. Nothing a simple Reparo couldn't fix," he said with a wink. "Anyway, I think I'm done with this mess you call hair. Why don't we go upstairs and read a book before bed…unless you have more questions?"

Lyra fiddled with the hem of her pajama top, then asked in a quiet voice, "Do you still think Muggle-borns are less than purebloods?"

Draco shook his head as she gathered her up. "Absolutely not. I don't even think those without magic are beneath wizards, especially not after living among them for as long as we have."

That seemed to appease his daughter as she smiled and wound her arms around his neck in a tight hug as he carried her up the stairs to her room.

Lyra rushed to her overflowing bookshelf, her eyes immediately zoning in on her favorite book series, Junie B Jones, First Grader. Draco smiled as he turned down her fluffy blankets, settling himself and making room for Lyra to climb in next to him. Her voice didn't stumble at all as she read her book aloud. Draco loved that she had such an affinity for reading, just as he did when he was a child. When her yawns started to interrupt her reading, he took over to read the rest of the chapter and only stopped when her head drooped and her breathing even out.

He slipped out of her bed quietly, making sure to tuck in her stuffed otter Otis, and bent down to kiss her forehead. "Good night, Princess."

Lyra sighed and snuggled into her pillow as Draco closed the door behind him.

He made his way downstairs and poured himself a glass of Merlot while he turned on the telly. As the program played however, his mind went elsewhere.

He thought of the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, of Daphne handing him his daughter, and the chaos that ensued.

People rushed to the fallen witch while he had only stood there, stunned, holding onto the crying infant that had been placed in his arms. McGonagall pulled him aside, wanting to see about the baby. Her eyes widened in surprise when he told her the baby was his, though he had no idea how that had come to be. McGonagall nodded once, sternly, before leading him to her office. There, Madam Pomfrey examined them both and declared the baby to be healthy. Somehow, the Headmistress secured permission for Draco to return to the Manor with the infant, with the understanding that someone from the Ministry would contact him about any pending charges for his role in the war.

Thank Merlin for house elves. Draco didn't know a thing about infants, but the elves were thrilled.

His own nurse elf, Mipsy, took charge, insisting that she would care for her. Draco, who had never been around babies before, gladly accepted the offer and made sure to learn everything he could—he already decided he would be more involved in his child's upbringing, unlike most pureblood fathers who left that task up to the mothers and house elves.

Once Lyra had been changed, fed, and placed in a small cot that Mipsy had procured from the attic, Draco wandered into his father's study, where the Malfoy Family tapestry hung.

All throughout his youth he'd been made to study the tapestry, as he learned the history of the Malfoys. He was quick to find his lone branch under his mother and father. Now, another thin branch appeared under his, with the name Lyra J. Malfoy, and her birthday, 10 March 1998. Since he was not married though, the mother's name didn't appear on the tree, but at least Draco found out two important things—that Lyra was undeniably his, and the day she was born, putting her at nearly two months old.

Turning off the telly, his mind still in the past, Draco drank the rest of his wine before heading up to his room.

Under his bed, he pulled out an old suitcase, the pink-colored leather dusty and the brass hinges tarnished and scratched with age. It was the one that Daphne had with her when she brought Lyra to Draco. Originally, it had been filled with baby clothes, nappies, blankets, bottles, and even formula. He opened it now and the memories it brought forth made him smile.

The suitcase was lined with light pink satin, with ribbons along the sides. Inside the suitcase he kept a few of Lyra's baby outfits, some baby books, and even a few small toys that Draco wanted to keep from Lyra's first year. Underneath those items were two leather-bound notebooks, both with blank pages, but he could feel a shimmer of magic just above the surface. He wondered if it was something special for Lyra from her mother so he'd kept them, and even hoped they might hold a clue as to who the mother of his daughter was. Lyra was still young though, so he planned to hold off on giving the notebooks to her for a few more years.

With a tired sigh, he put everything back and closed the suitcase, returning it under his bed before starting his nightly routine.

As he laid in bed that night, his thoughts circled back to Granger, wondering why she'd accepted their invite to dinner… and if she would accept his apology for how he treated her all those years ago.

The following morning, Lyra was practically buzzing with excitement as she fidgeted in her at the table.

"Do you think she'll come over earlier than six?" she asked as Draco set her breakfast in front of her.

"Probably not," he said.

"We should've told her to come earlier, like…. after lunch," she said as she shoveled eggs in her mouth.

Draco watched his daughter in amusement as she ate. "We have errands to run and things to do before she comes over," Draco reminded her, digging into his own meal. "Time will go by fast, don't worry."

"I know, I'm just so excited!" Lyra said. "I've never met another person with magic before, besides Gramma Cissy. Do you think I should draw her a picture? I'm going to draw her a picture. Maybe with a rainbow, since I don't know her favorite color. I wonder if she has any pets. Should I make up ones for the picture? How about a unicorn? Or maybe a puppy…. Do you think we can stop at the pet store later and look at the puppies?"

Draco was used to how fast Lyra could hop from one subject to another and fire question after question nodded absently in agreement while he ate. But at her last question, he stopped and narrowed his eyes.

"Trying to be sneaky I see," he said, pointing a forkful of eggs at her.

Lyra giggled. "Can we, though? I just want to look at them."

"'Looking' always ends up with you falling in love with a puppy and me having to say no. So I'm just going to say it now—no."

"Pleeease, daddy," she begged.

"Lyra, I said no," he said more firmly.

"But—"

Draco raised a brow, cutting off her entreaties. Lyra went back to eating her eggs, mumbling, "Okay, fine."

Draco shook his head as he finished his breakfast. Lyra had been asking for a puppy since she was nearly three. It wasn't that he didn't like animals, on the contrary, he liked them just fine seeing as how he grew up with dogs and cats at the Manor. However, with him out of the house all day while Lyra was at school, he was afraid what a dog would do to their house in their absence.

He knew, eventually, he'd give in, but only when the time was right.

"Come on, Princess," he said with a smile when they were both done with their meal. "Let's get ready to head out. I need to stop by the shop and check on a few things before we do our other errands"

"Can we get Miss Hermione something from the shop?"

Draco thought about it as he put the dishes in the sink. "That's not a bad idea. Now, go on and get dressed."

Lyra smiled widely at him before she bounded up the stairs.

As Draco followed, he thought about how nice it would be to not have to hide who he truly was , and hoped that having Granger over for dinner wouldn't be a complete disaster—-for both him and Lyra's sake.

Thank you all for the reviews, likes, and follows! Sorry this chapter is posted later in the day, but I had a much needed girls day with one friends, who just happens to be my beta, CaitlinCheri! All the thanks to her as well as my alpha, Ann Ammons! You two are amazing!