Draco and his barren wife needed a child. Their last resort...to find a surrogate. All seemed well until a seer foretold that the surrogate, chosen by fate to continue the Malfoy line, would be none other than Hermione Weasley... [Writer's note: This is a continuation of the fic I wrote as "lemonmalfoy" in 2009. I have no access to my prior account/emails on so I just made a new account. I am re- uploading each chapter and fixing a few things here and there. ]
Surrogated Affections
By: (formerly lemonmalfoy)
Chapter 1: Conception of A Conception- At The Manor
Malfoy Manor, June 4, 2005.
Draco Malfoy marveled at how wonderful his knuckles felt as they massaged circles against his pulsing temples. He sat in the silent, cool darkness of his wife's bedroom, where he waited patiently.
"Draco... darling..." His face wearily tipped upward from its restful perch near the foot of his wife's bed at her gentle whisper.
"Yes, Astoria... what is it?" He replied in a soft voice that was weighed down with exhaustion. "Healer Whipple should be here any moment-"
"A head full of dark hair, like mine, because yours is too pale. Too pale!"
Draco sighed dejectedly as Astoria continued in a delusional state, her arms thrusted out and grasped onto some invisible object in front of her.
"Like those pale, bloody peacocks outside!"
Before they were married, Draco couldn't believe his luck. According to the wizarding world, Astoria Greengrass was the pinnacle of trophy wives; she was, by far, the prettiest, most eligible witch at the time, with many suitors vying for her hand by the time the Malfoys had taken any notice. Naturally, her blood was as pure as a valley of prancing unicorns. After he gladly ditched Pansy (who showed herself to be as dim as a dugbog even as an adult), Miss Greengrass was an easy conquest for Draco, as shown by the grandiose wedding of himself to the beautiful witch naught but four months later.
It was difficult for him to see her in her current state, so shrunken, bedridden, and at times crazed. Although she still held some of her handsomeness, she was so far and away from the vibrant, young companion she used to be. To Draco, it looked like death had already curled its bony fingers around her, slowly squeezing the life out of her body.
"A little baby. Hair... like mummy. Sweet, sweet baby..." She sung as she kicked the duvet off her legs. Draco uncurled himself from the end of the bed and slowly made his way to his wife's side.
Life seemed so incredibly unfair at that moment. As if he hadn''t suffered enough already... And now... his wife...
Draco kneeled silently beside the frail woman, and tenderly wrapped his long fingers around her outstretched hands. Dutifully, he pulled the discarded bed covers securely over her chest and tucked them under her chin.
It started a year ago on a hazy summer day at Malfoy Manor.
Astoria was gossiping cheekily with her mother-in-law concerning the curious whereabouts of her former schoolmates during their afternoon tea. It was a fairly normal conversation that was punctuated every now and again with chortles of disbelief, condescending snorts, and graceful 'harumphs'.
"Honestly... once I was finished, she pushed me out of the line! While I was just about to pay! She still can't let bygones be bygones, that horrid Parkinson woman..." Astoria let out a frustrated sigh and daintily brought the cup of tea to her lips.
According to Narcissa, it was then that she had paled curiously. Her peach-tinged face was mysteriously drained of all its color. Gradually it looked like her entire being had been bleached by the light of the sun. Her hands began to shake, and the teacup she held within them slipped to the floor, shattered into pieces.
"Don't worry, dear. I'll take care of the mess." She snapped for the house elves to reassemble the cup with magic, then put a reassuring hand on her daughter's. It was then that she noticed that something was amiss.
The elder Mrs. Malfoy shrieked as blood started to drip from Astoria's frightened eyes and mouth.
"DRACO!"
Draco and his father had rushed into the room in time to see the thick, red liquid drip from her face, then disappear into a glittering red smoke.
The healers at St. Mungo's had diagnosed it as the Bloodless Sickness. Those afflicted with the rare, magical ailment found themselves with an unbreakable, untraceable enchantment that spread through the veins, eventually dissolving all the blood held within. Victims of the disease wither away slowly and painfully until death claims them, as there is no cure or counter spell found at present. It is said to have originated from the backfiring of a modified Scourgify spell which Dark Wizards and Witches used to torture muggle-borns by "cleaning" their "filthy blood".
How ironic that utterly despicable curse would turn on Pure-bloods in such a manner. But... his poor Astoria shouldnt be the one suffering because of that fact.
It should be him...
Draco growled in anger, drowning in his muddled thoughts and memories until his wife started to speak again.
"I want a child, Draco. When, when can we have it?" Astoria broke her arms free from her covers and grabbed at the air with caressing fingers. "Let's have a baby, darling..." She continued. Her words physically crumpled the form of her husband.
Another terribly unfair blow dealt by life.
Astoria Malfoy, his beautiful wife of five years, was not only deathly ill, but she was also barren because of it.
Draco, personally, could never remember a time when he didn't think about his future children. He thought about having them so much, he could swear he could hear their giggles echoed through the halls of the Manor at times. While still attending Hogwarts, he would daydream of his future progeny participating in the Sorting Hat ceremony in the Great Hall. They would be sorted into Slytherin before they sat on the stool, of course. Natural born quidditch players, the lot of them. Top marks in school and everything in between that caused anyone to become a pompous, boastfully proud parent. He'd imagine those same silvery-blonde, grey-eyed miniatures of himself torturing Potter, Weasley, and Granger miniatures, and he'd become instantly giddy with anticipation. It pained him whenever his wife would deliriously mention her longing for a baby of her own because he matched hers ten times over.
Maybe... if she just died... you could start over...
There it was. The voice of that sniveling coward who Draco constantly tried to eradicate since the war. His own voice, but desperate and harried. A voice that was willing to do anything and everything abominable to simply stay alive.
Just let her die and find someone else.
"If it's a boy, I'd name him Hyperion, like papa..."
Stop looking for a cure. There is none until she withers away.
",.. and a girl will be called Hestia, like mummy..."
Draco shook his head, trying to readjust the direction of his thinking.
He grasped at his sleeve to look at the head of a snake that rested on his pale skin.
No. I deserve this. I deserve all of this for what I've done...
A loud, sharp knock on the door dissipated his thoughts immediately and caused him to jump up in his seat. Before he could get up, the bedroom door burst open, and a plump old witch with sped into the chamber. "Missus and Mister Malfoy, may I come in?!" Draco winced at her loud voice. He thought her question impertinent because she already had her glowing wand tip against his wife's bare forearm once she said it.
"Of course, Ruby." He pulled the rest of the sleeve up, revealing his dark mark completely. "Be quick about it. She isn't doing well at all."
Healer Ruby Whipple had always flinched once she saw the skull and snake, her crimson eyes squinted under the beehive of unnaturally auburn curls piled atop her head. Despite her obvious disdain for his mark, Draco knew her now to be a well-meaning (albeit rude) person whom he could trust.
"Don't you worry, Mr. Malfoy. After the blood transfusion, she should come back to her senses again." The healer patted his arm kindly... then tossed him effortlessly onto a nearby chair with a strength uncharacteristic for a witch of her age and stature.
"Do you always have to be so rough?!" The younger wizard whinged as he rubbed his side.
"Rough? Whatever do you mean?"
The red-haired witch chuckled heartily and swiftly tapped her wand to his forearm. The wand sparked to life as it touched his skin. It coincidentally was also the dead center of the skull's mouth on his mark; the place where the Dark Lord would once call upon his loyal, frightened followers. A glowing, white line appeared in the air, connecting itself to the wife and husband's arms.
"Sanguify. "
As soon as she uttered her spell, the white line of magic turned deep red. Astoria's cheeks regained a pink flush and her dull eyes brightened considerably. After a few more moments of the magical transfusion, Healer Whipple double tapped her wand on her own hand, and the red line disappeared in a cloud of sparkling dust.
"There you are, Mrs. Malfoy! How are you feeling?" Astoria yawns in response to the older witch's inquiry.
"Better, I suppose. But... I think I am going to rest a little. So tired." She replied clearly, her voice devoid of derangement as she turns in her bed and drifts into a peaceful slumber.
Ruby, who continued her examination of the sleeping woman, suddenly bellowed a loud snort of approval.
"All is as well as it should be. What was she going on about before I got here?"
"Just the... usual." Draco sighed. His pallid, pointed face held a grimace as he rubbed his arm. Temporary numbness was an annoying side effect of the blood transfusion spell. "I know she can't help it, but... I wish she would stop talking about having children."
"I'm certain a child would improve her health both mentally and physically. Children possess a miraculous healing power that works far better than magic." She used her wand to conjure a few potion bottles from her standard St. Mungo-issued extension charmed pack.
"Why don't you grant her that baby, Sir?" Her comment elicited a nasty snarl out of Draco.
He glared at her in silence for a few seconds to see if she was joking. Her eyes never strayed from the potion in her hand as she continued.
"It seems like a simple enough solution to your problem."
When Astoria became sick, her body had become incapable of sustaining and carrying life within her. The old hag knew this, so Draco was confounded as to why she suddenly started to say otherwise.
What exactly was she up to...?
"You're joking, right? You know she can't fall pregnant..."
"You can find yourself a surrogate to birth one for you!"
At that moment, Astoria sighed contentedly from behind them, which caused both the old healer and the young Mast Malfoy to freeze in place. Once they were sure she was sound asleep once more, they huddled closer to resume their conversation.
"A... what?" Draco inquired in a hushed voice, not quite understanding the term surrogate.
"Honestly, I only thought of it when I talked to my cousin Periwinkle the week before." Ruby planted a potion meant for pain relief into his hands while she spoke.
"Unable to have children, she was. So, they found a witch who was willing to bear one for them to raise as their own."
"Still... it wouldn't be my own. We've already considered taking in a charge, and Astoria would have none of it," He sneered at the memory. "Neither would my mother or father, for that matter..."
"On the contrary, young sir... Periwinkle's husband was the father. He combined his seed with the surrogate mother, and she became pregnant with his child."
Draco's grey eyes widened, and he found himself speechless, only able to blink profusely until he regained his voice.
"Y-you're telling me to... you think I should cheat on my wife for a kid...?!"
Well, he certainly hadn't thought about that one...
"Only if you want to— of course not! Of all the silly things, Mr. Malfoy!"
Ruby's laugh stirred the sleeping Mrs. Malfoy, so she quieted down and pointed a finger at his pointed nose.
"Here is what I propose..."
Is there a way to have his own offspring without committing adultery? Draco listened intently, a hopeful warmth starting to spread in his chest.
"It's a procedure inspired by muggle doctors. Your seed would be magically implanted into a surrogate mother, and she will birth an heir for you and your wife."
He was so excited that his mind glossed over the muggle doctors part of the explanation and zeroed in on heir.
His heir.
But... was Astoria truly well enough to go through raising a child, even if they both wanted one?
The old hag did say that she was certain a baby would improve her health.
Draco took a few calming breaths before he spoke, being sure to sound collected and measured; completely unenthused.
"Of course, Astoria must agree, first..." A sparkle danced in the old witch's eyes as she nodded her head with a knowing smile. "Of course, sir..."
Let's see if children really are more powerful than magic...