TW: Grief
TW: Maternal Mortality
CW: Strong Language

I needed you today.

Draco shook his head, eyes trained on the ground as he walked back to his car. The minute Hermione said that, all he could hear was Scorpius saying You needed her today.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

They'd been having a nice time, but that one sentence knocked him on his arse. He was falling for Hermione Granger. He'd been ready to punch McLaggen for snogging her. Throughout the meal Cormac would stare at Lavender's tits then glance toward Hermione's chest as if wondering how they compared. Draco had spent the entire meal insulting him and that idiot didn't realize what was happening. Hermione seemed to enjoy it, though. She rejected McLaggen and that was a delight to see.

Then she had to go and say, "I needed you here today." It all hit Draco at once, the realization that he liked her. He unlocked the car and sat in the passenger seat. Hermione was vulnerable with him. He had no idea the explosion still impacted her. It was in the past for everyone else, but Hermione didn't get to walk away from it. Draco never noticed the lack of mobility in her arm; she hid it well on camera and in person. How much of herself did she continue to hide?

The driver door opened ten minutes later and Romilda plopped onto the seat.

"I am meant to stay until the end of the date, but your mum does not pay me enough to watch Lavender Brown go down on McLaggen behind a giant bush." Romilda tossed the clipboard into the back of the car and asked, "I'm driving then?"

"I'm too angry to drive; liable to send us right into a bloody tree."

"Noted." Romilda started the car then asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Draco pulled out his phone and typed "Hermione Granger" into Google. He tapped on the Wikipedia article and read through the summary, noting the basics. Her birthday was September 19th, she's short, catapulted into the cultural zeitgeist by an interview she did at twenty-two with England's Ambassador to Brazil, Dolores Umbridge. The summary sentence read:

Hermione Granger is an English journalist, the co-anchor of BBC News at Ten and contributor to The World This Weekend, part of the news department of the BBC broadcast network, based in London.

He continued scrolling and shook his head. He mumbled half to himself, half to Romilda,

"She speaks four languages?"

Granger received an award for young journalists from Amnesty International. (Though, the article noted she was Hermione Weasley at the time.) Hermione had a bachelor's degree from Nanyang Technological University, master's degree in journalism and globalization from University of Amsterdam, and a law degree from Cambridge.

"How does one person do all this before thirty-five?" Draco grumbled to himself and put in his earbuds. He shook his head, pulled up the contact list in his phone and tapped Bastien's name. Bas answered midway through the second ring.

"I've been waiting for this call, mate! How was the date?"

"My mother failed to tell me it was a double."

"Oh." Bastien paused before groaning, "Those are always awkward. How was it?"

"I think I like this girl."

"Damn, your mum works fast." Bastien added, "I'm not surprised, though. She's the most manipulative person I've ever met, and I work in drugs."

"You don't understand—"

"This is great! You are taking that first step forward. We've been worried you'll stay stuck forever, and Blaise texted last weekend saying he'd finally told you what we've all been thinking—"

"Bas—"

"I'm glad he had the balls to do it. You've had tunnel vision for so long, but you're starting to see the light—"

"She was the other girl on the date, Bas," Draco said. "She wasn't my date, she was the other bloke's date."

There was a brief pause while Bastien sorted through what Draco said. Then he let out a guffaw of laughter so loud Draco had to remove one of his earbuds.

"Oh my God," he said between giggles. "I cannot believe you fell for some other bloke's date. Oh, God, that's hilarious. He never stood a chance. Who is he so I can send him a card that says 'sorry for your loss?'"

"Some crypto arsehole."

"Oh my God, please, please tell me you stole Cormac McLaggen's date."

"I didn't steal her; she wasn't interested."

"Let me get this straight." Bastien took a deep breath and tried to gather himself. "You went on a double-date with Cormac McLaggen and fell for his date who was more interested in you than him?"

"Sort of."

"Ha, ha!" Draco could almost see Bastien pumping his fist in the air. "No McShaggen for McLaggen!"

"He left with my date, so …"

"Oh, I'm sorry, mate."

"Don't be, my date was awful. Her father invented some medical software and she uses his money to pretend to be some sort of climate activist. She's got a nonprofit—"

"Scam."

"Right."

"You swapped dates."

"No."

"Okay, forget McLaggen, who's the girl?"

Draco sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes.

"Hermione Granger."

"Cedric's partner on News at Ten?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Huh," Bastien admitted, "I don't think you can handle her."

Draco smiled softly and stared out the window at buildings as they passed into view then zipped away.

"We're friends."

"You're friends with her?"

"Yeah."

"That surprises me."

Offended, Draco asked, "Why?"

"Because she wants to be in politics and, no offense, you're my best mate, but being associated with anything Malfoy is the scarlet A of elections. I'm shocked she'd go on a date with you, even as the other half of a double."

"I hadn't given that much thought." Draco's heart sank the slightest bit. "She's not interested in me, anyway. I'm still learning to bring myself out of the past, and she needs someone who is in the present. We're friends."

"Right."

"Something changed in me today, though. When I arrived at the restaurant, McLaggen was snogging Hermione and I felt something I haven't felt in a long time."

"The urge to punch him?"

"No, Bas, he was kissing Hermione and I wanted to be him."

"Oh." Bastien paused for far too long. He took a deep breath in then whistled downward in pitch. He said, "You were jealous."

Draco ran a hand over his face and nodded to no one in particular.

"He's five-eight, dumb as hell, and kept making comments about her clothes, but he got to snog her. Hold her. I wanted to do that."

"You were jealous."

"No, I just thought that she would've had a better time if I was her date."

"So you wanted to be her date?"

"Yes."

"And you were jealous."

"FINE!" shouted Draco. "I was jealous. I like her and I know nothing can happen, but watching her snog someone else right in front of me was a punch to the face. Not only did I realize I like this woman who is so far out of my league it's embarrassing, but I realized I still have love left to give. I see now that I have been holding back from my son, from all of you, and … I realized it all because of fucking Cormac McLaggen of all people."

"Nah, mate, you took one look at Hermione Granger and realized you're not enough of yourself right now to make a go of it. And that you want to make a go of it. McLaggen had nothing to do with it. I've met Granger several times and she's great. She's always asking questions, and when she does it feels like she cares. She's terrifying, sure, but she's also very earnest and sincere. Never met anyone else like her."

"Yeah—"

"Oh! And she's got a great sense of humour. Always liked that about her. Anyway, she and Padma are friends because they went to uni together, plus she's partnered with Cedric, so we're decent enough acquaintances."

"Odd," replied Draco. "If Hermione and I have so many connections, how have our paths never crossed until now?"

"You haven't been much for connecting the past few years."

"Oh."

"Anyway, Cormac McLaggen is an idiot, probably committing securities fraud, and officially has a terrible date. You're Draco fucking Malfoy, heir to a billion-Pound empire of very real money, and you have a great head of hair. So you win in every category. I've gotta go, but I'll see you in a week?"

"Blaise's next Saturday."

"Yes, and you should visit more often. I see Blaise and Theo all the time but I haven't seen you in over a month. I miss you and your shiny hair and your sharp cheekbones and—"

"You've given me an idea."

"—your well-toned backside—"

"I'm ending this call now."

"—and your perfectly-sized—"

Draco ended the call before Bastien could finish the sentence. He scrolled up through his contacts and hit Blaise's name. It rang. And rang. And rang … Blaise answered just as Draco was about to hang up.

"Dimmi."

"You were right."

"I'm not surprised, but I also don't know what you are talking about."

"Last weekend, you told me I've been keeping part of my heart in the past." Draco admitted, "I went on a date today."

"And?"

"You were right. I've kept part of my heart frozen in the past, away from my son. As I began thinking about it, though, I've also kept myself away from my son. Would you mind if I drove Scorpius back to London tomorrow?"

"Not at all."

"Would you mind if I stayed at your house this week?"

"No."

Draco could hear the smile in Blaise's voice even as he tried to conceal it. Draco mentioned,

"Since you need me to help host next Saturday, I felt this makes the most sense."

"Perfect sense. Did you enjoy your date?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Draco sighed and said, "It was a double-date; my girl was awful and walked away with the other bloke. I have a thing for the other woman, but she's not interested in me."

"Why isn't she interested?"

"She's out of my league."

"I doubt that."

"It's Hermione Granger."

"Oh." Blaise conceded, "I would never say anyone is out of your league. I will say you don't have the heart to pursue a woman like that right now."

Draco rolled his eyes, but Blaise never said things he didn't believe. It stung because it confirmed that Draco would never have the privilege of being with Hermione Granger as more than weekend friends. Even the thought of kissing her hello the way McLaggen had made his cheeks go warm. He asked,

"What would Tori want me to do?"

"She would want you to give Scorpius the fullest life you can."

"But would she want me to pursue someone romantically?"

Blaise paused for a moment. Draco heard the telltale tapping of a wooden spoon against the metal countertop in Blaise's kitchen. He waited. Romilda's eyes were focused on the road, but her ears were recording every bit of Draco's half of these conversations. Blaise said,

"I don't believe you are ready for the answer to that question."

"Tell me anyway."

"Astoria loved you. She would never want you to be with someone else the way you were with her. There will always be a hole in your life and she would want it that way. However, I firmly believe Astoria would never want to be a hole in her son's life. You've made her one, and I don't know much about Hermione Granger except that you haven't sounded this happy in six years."

Draco nodded and stared up at the rear view mirror, watching as the city skyline shrank slowly backward.

"She will never go for me in that sense." He admitted, "The first day we met, I told her I was unavailable. My heart was unavailable."

"It still is," Blaise said. "You are not ready for a relationship; you have to allow the dark cloud of Astoria's death pass over you. Theo, Bastien, and I will be here for you when it does. Then you will be able to look at a woman like Hermione Granger and realize it is okay to love again."

Draco took a deep breath before admitting, "I visited Tori alone last weekend."

Blaise didn't reply. He was so quiet Draco couldn't even hear his breathing through the phone. If he hadn't been listening to Blaise's silence for twenty-five years, he'd assume Blaise put himself on mute.

"Said some things Scorpius didn't need to hear. I've known for awhile that I have been a different person since Astoria died, but I did not understand that it has weighed on all of you as well. You told me I was keeping part of my heart locked away from my son, and you were right. I just spoke to Bas; he said he and Theo have been worried about me, too, but weren't sure how to say anything. So thank you for being here for me in a way nobody else can be."

"You are my best friend, I care about you, and the only thing I want more than to see you happy is to see my godson happy. You have dragged yourself down year after year for six years come August."

"You're right."

"Yes, you said so at the beginning of the call."

Draco smiled fondly down at Blaise's contact photo and said, "I hope Scorpius is absorbing some of that Italian confidence."

"Ovviamente."

Blaise hung up and Draco pulled the buds from his ears. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back on the headrest. Astoria's death weighed on him for so long, what sort of husband would he be if he just moved on? If he loved someone else, did that mean—

"Do you plan to tell my mother everything I just said?"

"Yup," Romilda replied, popping her lips on the 'p.' "Every word, right before she fires me."

"She won't fire you."

"She will when she finds out what I did today. Narcissa told me to set Lavender and Cormac up on separate halves of a double-date. Your mum let me have free reign over the other halves of the double. She will be furious when I tell her I put you and Hermione Granger on the same date. The only question is whether she'll remember to fire me before she murders me."

Draco raised his eyebrows and asked, "Why would my mother want to murder you?"

"Because she let me have control over two files." Romilda sighed and glanced his way before admitting, "Yours and Hermione Granger's. I saw the way you were looking at her. Touching her. She's brought out more life in you than I have seen since your mum hired me years ago. Listening to you just now, I feel I have to tell you something."

"Hmm?"

"I've got a banging third man for Hermione." Romilda shook her head and insisted, "She's going to like him, I can tell, it's why I'm saving him for last. He is like you in that he will appreciate Hermione for her accomplishments, but he won't get her humour. It's the only flaw in my otherwise brilliant plan."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know you, and I care for you. If you want me to find another third bloke for her, one that won't meet expectations the way you could … Say the word."

Draco frowned at her.

"You would do that for me?"

"No, I'd do it for her and for you. I want her to find someone. I want her to be happy and I saw what you bring out in her. I saw the way she got on with Scorpius. I see a hole in your life, Draco, and she can fill that void."

Draco nodded. He stared at the dash, considering Romilda's offer. What if Hermione liked that third bloke? Could he handle that heartbreak? Hell, four hours earlier he didn't even know he could feel like this again. Draco assumed that part of him had died with his wife. Then Hermione Granger appeared in his life and wouldn't stop showing up. What had she said over lunch?

The way you speak about Astoria is exactly how I'd want my husband to speak about me.

He could do that for her. He could say those things, be that man, make her feel the way her first husband didn't.

What would Astoria think?

Draco hardly needed to consider it before he had his answer. She'd push him off the roof of the manor for manipulating Hermione Granger. Astoria would never approve of him cheating a woman out of her own choices. After all, what was it Bastien said? Draco had a full head of hair, a billion-Pound empire, and a well-toned ass. That should be enough.

"Hermione is my friend, and the truth is that even if she was interested in me I would be a drag on her career. She called me this week when she lost the BBC Breakfast gig because she needed a friend. If I'm going to fall for her—"

"I see the way you look at her, let's not pretend you aren't already arse over tits."

"If I am going to fall for her, I want to support her. I want to keep being her first call."

Romilda pounded her fist against the wheel and said, "I respect you for that, but I also wish you'd give your own happiness a real shot for once."

"It's not easy, Romi. I need to figure out how to put Tori to rest before I can be present for my son and the rest of my family the way they deserve. I will admit, it was cathartic speaking to Hermione today because she wanted to know more about Astoria. She listened as I told her everything that happened. Today was the first time I spoke about Astoria's death to someone who didn't live through it with me."

"Perhaps that is the first step in being present," offered Romilda.

Draco conceded, "Perhaps. But Romi, I want you to give Hermione the best men you have to offer."

"And what makes you think you aren't the best?"

"My name. Did you know she is trying for the UN Ambassador post?"

"She mentioned it in her interview, yes."

"How quickly would the odds of her getting that post decrease if she announced her boyfriend's father went to prison for fifteen years because he was the biggest political scandal of the past half-century?"

Romilda glared straight ahead, not bothering to look over at Draco.

"Exactly. My name will ruin her, and that is why I am not the best option. She is my friend."

"Fuck it, maybe I'll put myself down as her third date."

Draco laughed and said, "You won't be worse than her first."

.oOo.

Draco was up before the sun the next morning. He peeked into Scorpius's room to find him sound asleep under a pile of teddy bears in F1 kits. Draco made his way to the opposite end of the manor and knocked on his mother's bedroom door. She said,

"Come in."

Draco opened the door to find his mother sitting up against her pillow, half-in and half-out of the covers. She put aside her book and pulled down the blanket on the other side of the bed. Draco crossed the room and crawled in without a word. He pulled the covers up over his face and groaned. Narcissa asked,

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No."

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

Draco grumbled, "Not particularly."

"I have a suspicion it was not Lavender Brown who prompted this."

Draco pushed the covers down, sat up, and rested his head between his knees. His heart was so heavy the rest of his body seemed liable to sink straight down with it.

"You can end our agreement. You won."

"I hardly believe one date counts as a win."

"No," Draco insisted, "you said Granger was never considered for my list of potentials because she wishes to be part of a family searching for its missing piece. I said my family isn't missing a piece, and I was wrong, but not in the way you think. The missing piece is me. I have to fix myself before I can bring someone else into this family the way I'd like to."

"I see."

Draco looked up at his mother to ask, "Could you ever love another man the way you loved my father?"

"No."

"Just as I could never love someone the way I loved my wife."

"I don't believe anyone is asking you to."

"Aren't you?"

"No. I am asking you to begin living your life again. That is all."

Draco asked, "Why did you love him?"

"He was—"

"He was an awful person and I see him every time I look in the fucking mirror! How could you love someone like him for thirty years?"

"Your father was never a leader, but he was the most devoted follower. I was twenty years old when we met, and I knew straightaway I would marry him. He wanted nothing more than to give me the life I wanted. He was tall, handsome, had all the money anyone in the world could think to ask for, but I married him because of the way he looked at me. I could see the commitment in his eyes."

"Love?"

"No, no, my son, anyone can love. Love is like breathing; your body does it even when you aren't thinking. Your father was committed to my life, to my happiness, and to our marriage."

"I remember sometime when I was younger, someone asked whether father had stepped out on your marriage. They'd asked Theo's father—"

"An expert on infidelity."

"—and he said that was the most ludicrous question they could ask."

Draco watched as his mother smiled softly, lost in one of thirty years' worth of memories. She said,

"When he went to prison, your father was offered a deal if he implicated me as well. Five years off his sentence. One of the officers sent me the transcript, and your father was angry at the world. At himself, mostly. But he looked at the officers and said, 'I am the ground that woman walks on. I do not tremble.'"

Draco nodded and chuckled softly to himself. Narcissa conceded,

"He was always a bit flowery and dramatic with his prose."

"He meant it, though."

"Every word. I see the same quality in you, my son."

"No, I'm definitely not as good with words."

"I mean the conviction, Draco. You love with your whole heart, with your whole life. That is a rare quality, and it is why you have not been able to move on from Astoria's death. All I wanted was for you to see that your love did not end with her life. You have more."

"Did you know it would be Granger?"

"Oh, yes. You already trusted her, so when her publicist contacted me I knew she would open your eyes to something. I did not know what it would be, or that she would be so quick about it."

"The truth is, I can't be for her what I was for Astoria. But I …" Draco mumbled a bit, trying to find the proper words. "I want to do for her what I did for Astoria. Everything I did as her husband was to help her pursue the two things she wanted: to sing and to be a mother. I still feel like I failed her on that second part."

"There was nothing—"

"But there should have been! I should have seen something or known to ask proper questions, insist she stay another day in hospital, something."

"Those are the Greengrasses in your head, my son. That is not the truth."

"But it feels true. Tori never got to be a lead vocalist and I feel like I failed her there, too. Her power came from her voice, and Hermione Granger's power also comes from her voice, albeit in a very different way. She wants to be the Ambassador to the United Nations, and I don't want her to fail. That means I can't be her boyfriend, I can't kiss her, the romance cannot be there no matter how desperate my crush on her will turn out to be. But I can answer the phone when she calls. I want to be her friend … I want to keep being her first call."

"Then, my son," Narcissa gently squeezed Draco's shoulder and said, "be the ground she walks on."

He sighed before asking, "Do we have any contacts in the HMRC?"

"I believe Mulciber is still there. What do you need?"

"A favour."

.oOo.

Draco quite liked Blaise's house. It was charming on the outside, tan brick, nondescript. Open concept living / dining space, with floor-to-ceiling doors that opened out onto the marvelous backyard. A second, private living area with a breakfast nook. Another more formal dining room with a table that comfortably sat twelve, the largest industrial kitchen Blaise could legally fit into the house, and yet another sitting room to round out the first floor. (Blaise had the billiards room demolished to expand the kitchen.)

The master bedroom was on the second floor, two guest rooms on the third floor, and Blaise's (oft-neglected) office was upstairs on the fourth. Scorpius had taken over one of the guest rooms, and Draco rolled his case into the other. He pulled out a dozen shirts, a few pairs of jeans, some more formal trousers in case a meeting came up, then began stuffing underwear into one of the dresser drawers. This room had become a home away from home the past several years.

In fact, Blaise's house was a second home because it had Blaise in it. Draco knew his son was safe during the week at school and was being fed properly. Arguably too properly. Draco plopped down on a sofa in the second sitting room and stared at the unlit fireplace.

Home.

Home in a way the manor never could be. There was no legacy in these walls, no expectation to be or not to be a certain sort of person. Draco sat on the sofa until the sun went down. Until Blaise left for the restaurant. Until Scorpius tugged on the hem of his trousers sometime after eight the next evening. Was it truly Monday already?

"Can I have cereal?"

Draco shook himself out of whatever darkness he'd fallen into and asked, "What?"

"Can I have cereal?"

"Didn't Blaise leave us something to warm up?"

"Yeeeeesss," whined Scorpius, "but he never lets me have cereal."

"Okay." Draco shrugged and pushed himself up, joints creaking and popping louder than they used to. "You know, he likes cereal, he just won't admit it."

Minutes later, Draco found a box of Lucky Charms stashed in the back of an upper cupboard. Draco pulled out two bowls. He dumped a massive amount into the first bowl and scooped as many of the marshmallow bits as he could into the second. Scorpius asked,

"What're you doing?"

"This," Draco poured in some milk, "is how your mum and I used to eat cereal. Tori didn't enjoy sweets, which always upset Blaise just enough to be funny."

Scorpius reached up for the marshmallow bowl, but Draco pulled it back and handed him the bowl of oat pieces. Scorpius frowned and made his way to the breakfast nook with Draco close behind. They each got comfortable, Scorpius with his legs crossed on the bench seat, and Draco with his feet resting on a chair. After a couple bites, Scorpius looked up at Draco to ask,

"Did you kiss Uncle Blaise?"

Draco spat a mouthful of marshmallow bits back into the bowl. He wiped the corner of his mouth and frowned.

"What?"

"Did you kiss Uncle Blaise?"

Flabbergasted, Draco grumbled, "What sort of question is that? Why would you ask that?"

"Maths."

"Maths?"

"Mhmm. Al has one mum and one dad. Katie has two mums. Rose has one mum and one dad. Jamie's got two dads. They've all got two." Scorpius held up two fingers on his left hand, then three on his right. "Me, 'm the only one with three."

"You have three?"

"Mhmm. Dad, mum, and godfather. But Jamie says it only counts if they kiss."

"Ah." Draco nodded, trying not to laugh. "Well, for maths, Blaise and I dated for a year about ten years ago. That was before I met your mum. But yes, we kissed."

"So I have three?"

"Yes, Scorp, you have three."

"Cool." Scorpius smiled and asked, "Can we have four?"

Draco's stomach knotted up. Can we have four? He poked at the cereal with his spoon, watching the marshmallows transition to an inedible soggy mess. Would Astoria want Scorpius to have a fourth? Draco looked down at his son, slurping some of the milk from the bowl like he hadn't upended Draco's world with a single question.

"Do you want a second mum?"

"Maybe!" Scorpius licked his lips. "Maybe another god-dad for Uncle Blaise."

"Oh."

"D'you want me to have a second mum?"

"I dunno, Scorp. In some ways I think I'm still learning how to be your dad."

Scorpius put one hand on Draco's knee and reassured him, "Three is good."

"I do miss your mum. Every day, I miss her."

"Was she nice?"

"She was nice, talented, and beautiful. You got your good looks from me, though."

"Why did she die?"

Oh.

Oh.

Draco slurped some milk from the bowl and pretended he hadn't heard the question. Scorpius hugged his cereal bowl to his chest and asked,

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Draco shook his head and wrapped Scorpius up in a one-armed hug, holding his bowl in his free hand. "No, you did nothing wrong."

"Okay."

"I'm just not a good enough dad to answer your question."

"Only good dads eat Lucky Charms."

"You are very right. Obviously, only good dads eat Lucky Charms." Draco squeezed Scorpius into a tighter hug before stealing the bowl away and placing them both in the sink. "Now, are you ready for a real dinner?"

"I guess."

"Scorp."

"Dad."

"Son."

"Dad."

"I think all this time with Blaise is making you too sassy."

Scorpius placed his hands on his hips, tilted his chin up, and squeezed his eyes closed. In his best impression of Blaise he said,

"Ovviamente!"

Draco doubled-over in laughter. He knelt down on one knee and looked Scorpius in the eyes. God, it was like looking in a mirror in some ways and a time capsule in others. Draco saw so much of himself in Scorpius physically; but the shape of Scorpius's smile, and the warmth behind it? That was all Tori.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. In my whole life, you are my favourite person. I wouldn't trade anything that happened if it meant losing you. I love you and I will always love you, alright?"

"Ovviamente!"

Draco groaned, "Has Blaise been teaching you Italian?"

Scorpius shouted, "Ovviamente!"

Draco pounced on Scorpius and tickled him until their eyes were watering. Somehow they both ended up on the floor of the kitchen, laughing until their stomachs ached. Draco looked up at the ceiling and tried to get his breath back into a steady rhythm. He shook his head and said,

"I love you, son."

Scorpius grinned over at Draco and insisted, "I love you too, dad."

Draco whispered back, "Ovviamente."

.oOo.

Draco skipped three meetings on Thursday. He'd been in and out all week, trying to care about high rises and concrete, but Scorpius's question lingered in his mind. Why did she die? Draco didn't know what to say, or how to explain the situation to Scorpius without implicating him in it.

Draco's heart ached with Astoria's loss, and it was heavy with this new concern. Then when he thought about calling Hermione Granger to ask her opinion, he felt guilty for the feelings he had toward her. The deeper he let the thoughts go, the more they hurt. Draco felt himself begin to shut down again just as his phone vibrated with a text from Bastien.

Hermione's publicist is fucking amazing. Might even be able to scrape some of the mud off your name.

Draco frowned. What an odd thing to—his phone vibrated with a second text. It was a link to an article titled; Breaking News: Newscaster's Heartbreak. He opened the link and read through the piece.

Hermione Granger went on a double-date with her boyfriend, noted cryptocurrency mogul Cormac McLaggen, at a casual restaurant near Brockwell Park. Pictured at the beginning of the date, McLaggen and Granger were looking quite cozy in each other's arms. After Hermione left, Cormac stayed behind where he was spotted in Brockwell Park kissing another woman! Lavender Brown, founder of the controversial conservation nonprofit WolfsBANE (Wolfs Belong Among Natural Environments), was seen with her hand down the front of McLaggen's trousers.

Granger's publicist released a statement confirming the pair's split.

"Hermione is disappointed to find her budding relationship with Cormac McLaggen was just as fake as the currency he mints. She is a respected journalist who has survived a bomb, a divorce, and a decade of intense public scrutiny. Hermione has the trust of the public, while the public got a firsthand look at the real Cormac McLaggen last Saturday in Brockwell Park. (More than they wanted to see.) Hermione will be back on BBC to do what she does best: deliver the news."

Included were two photographs. The first was a shot of McLaggen snogging Hermione when she stepped out of the car. As Draco looked at it, the guilt inside of him turned to anger. If he didn't know the true context, he could see how someone would misinterpret the photo. McLaggen had his hands on Hermione's waist, as if they were well-acquainted. He wasn't squeezing her, just resting his hands on her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Hermione didn't look as if she hated it, even though Draco knew she did. Or hoped she did. The second photograph was McLaggen kissing Lavender Brown, with one hand down the back of her trousers.

Draco sent the article to Hermione with an accompanying text.

I need the number of your publicist.

He received a reply moments later.

Ask your mum.

Draco pressed the call button before he could give it any thought. She picked up on the second ring, loud noises coming from the room behind her. Shit, it was Thursday. At four o'clock she was probably in Broadcasting House. Desperate, Draco asked,

"Do you have a minute?"

"For you?" He heard her say something, but it sounded as if she muffled the receiver with her hand. "I have two."

Best to be quick about it, then. Draco spat out,

"Right, um, a few days ago Scorpius asked me why his mother died."

"Oh."

"And I didn't have an answer. I couldn't tell him, I couldn't find a way to explain it without sounding like her death was his fault. I told him I love him, that I wouldn't change anything if it meant losing him. But he knows I didn't answer his question."

"Has he asked before?"

"Never."

"And you're calling me because …?"

"Because you put words to my grief better than anyone."

"Oh. Thank you, that is quite a kind thing to say, actually." Hermione paused for a moment, then asked, "If I asked why your wife died, what would you say?"

"I would say she died from internal bleeding."

"But you wouldn't say she died in childbirth?"

"No, because that puts the onus on my son. It was not his fault."

"Scorpius isn't old enough to understand what internal bleeding means."

"Exactly."

"I see your point, and I have only met your son the once, but I believe he is brighter than you are giving him credit for."

"How d'you mean?"

"He knows something is wrong, which is probably why he asked."

"Oh." Draco conceded, "This is the second weekend in a row we didn't visit Astoria's grave. We've done so every Saturday for the past four years; every Saturday he can remember. Kids in school were talking about their parents this week and perhaps Scorpius connected some dots."

"Did you call me because you want reassurance you said the proper thing? Or are you asking for my opinion?"

"I will always want you to be honest with me."

"Then I think you should tell him that his mother died from complications due to childbirth. Your son knows it has something to do with him, not based on what you've told him but from what you haven't."

"But—"

"You tell him a version of what you told me, because neither I nor Scorpius knew Astoria. If I were you, I would sit him down and say his mother died after giving birth to him, but it is not his fault. Having a child is scary and hard, but his mum loved him so much that she did it anyway. Neither of you would change a thing if it meant losing Scorpius, and he needs to hear you say that over and over again. If I was in your shoes, Draco, I would look at your son and tell him that when he hugs you, it doesn't feel like you've lost anything at all. Astoria may not be alive anymore, but she is still here inside of him. Tell him all the parts of Astoria that he got to keep."

"He smiles like her." Draco admitted, "I love making him laugh because I see her in those moments."

"That is exactly what you should tell him."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"No, Hermione, I mean it. Truly. I didn't have anyone else to call."

"We're friends going through shit together, remember?"

"Right," Draco's heart sank a little. "Friends and shit."

"Do you need another minute?"

Draco could hear the hustle of the newsroom in the background and said, "It doesn't sound like you have another minute."

"My minutes are my minutes, Malfoy."

"Is there anything you need to talk about?"

"No. I thought …" Hermione mumbled to herself. "Never mind, it's stupid."

"Nothing you say is stupid."

"Right, well, I was invited to a party this weekend and I thought about wearing something a bit different."

"Oh."

"Talking with you last week made me think I might be ready to make a small change."

"Oh." Draco's heart fluttered upward, back to its proper place. "I helped you think so?"

"You did."

"You don't need to do anything you aren't ready for, Hermione."

"I know, but McLaggen kept making those comments about my clothes, and—"

"Don't listen to anything that bastard says."

"I want to feel attractive again, is all. It's been a long time since I felt good enough to go outside in something that wasn't a jumper or a blazer. Sitting next to you on our double-date, I felt like if people had seen us together they would've thought we were poorly matched."

"Clearly," replied Draco, "you are way out of my league. Everyone in my life has told me as much. Romilda, my son's godfather, my own mother, even!"

"You're not getting it. You are a nice-looking man in expensive clothes that fit you perfectly. You look so effortlessly gorgeous and wealthy. Then there was me in one of my nicer jumpers, but still … a jumper. Once Cormac and Lavender left, I must've looked like your pity date."

"I'm sorry," Draco couldn't help but grin when he asked, "which parts of me were you staring at to know my clothes fit so nicely?"

"Your shoulders," Hermione lied. "The shirts, um, the shirts always hug your shoulders nicely. Anyway, I do need to go …"

"Okay."

"I do hope to visit your library."

"I'm not at home this weekend, but perhaps the next?"

"I'd love that."

"Great!" Draco cursed himself internally for sounding too enthusiastic. "Be seeing you, Granger."

"Be seeing you."

A nice-looking man.

Gorgeous.

Bas said he was gorgeous. Blaise, Theo, everyone would use that word. It didn't mean they were attracted to him. Draco groaned low in the back of his throat because he wanted her to mean it. If he wasn't careful, this friendship would end in disaster.

.oOo.

Saturday morning, Draco stood at Blaise's side in the kitchen, ready to prepare for duties as co-host. Blaise asked,

"Why hasn't Scorpius come down?"

"We had a talk this morning."

"A talk?"

"About Astoria, about why she died."

"Oh." Blaise dropped everything in his hands onto the countertop and pulled Draco into a tight hug. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"How did he take it?"

"As best he could, I imagine. He asked to be alone for awhile, and I think that's proper. I've grieved for so long, but Scorp didn't know why. Now he has all the pieces and I think he needs a few hours to be sad about his mum for the first time."

"Should I—"

"No." Draco stepped out of the hug and added, "He did ask about you a few days ago."

"Oh?"

"If we'd ever kissed."

"Oh." Blaise giggled and clapped one hand over his mouth, unable to stop. "We did a hell of a lot more than that."

"He told the other kids he has three parents, but the kids said it only counts if they kissed."

"So he … He thinks of me as … As a …"

"As a parent, yes."

"Is that what you want?"

Draco shrugged and asked, "Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters."

"He actually asked if he could have four parents because he thinks you should have a boyfriend. But I have a sneaking suspicion he wants to keep collecting parents until he finds one who will let him eat the marshmallows in Lucky Charms."

"No." Blaise shook his head and insisted, "Do not tell me you found the box."

"We've known each other practically our entire lives and you don't think I know where you stash the cereal? I know our family is strange, but this is what we have and I like it. My son likes it. He is loved every moment of every day, and as his father I cannot ask for anything more. Now, shall we run through the guest list?"

Blaise rattled off, "Theo is coming alone, since Tracey's agreed to watch your son. Bastien will be here with Padma, and Bas invited Diggory who will bring Parvati. Davies is coming with his friend Marietta Edgecombe, whom I am told is an anchor on ITV so let's hope there is no news to deliver because England's entire broadcast team will be here in my house. Ginny does not know who her guests are, Gabrielle Delacour will be here, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, a few footballers, and the usual gay window dressing since Ginny wants to set her friend up with someone attractive. Apparently his last relationship ended rather poorly."

"Oh?"

"She was a bit crass in her description."

"Do tell."

"I believe her exact words were, 'He came home a day early from a work trip to find his husband on his knees with someone else's cock in his mouth.' Which is unfortunate phrasing and an awful way to find out you've been cheated on."

"I can't imagine."

"Ginny won't give me his name."

"That seems odd."

"Ginny is who she is. Now," Blaise wiped his hands off on his apron, "for the menu. Watermelon slices with mint and honey to start. Ravioli with leeks and foie gras or a mortadella sandwich as the main, then lemon tarte for dessert."

Draco groaned, "Lemon right after a foie gras?"

"The meal is bookended with fruit! Watermelon to begin and lemon at the end. A torte is too buttery, it must be a tarte."

"I know," Draco bumped Blaise's shoulder with his own.

Blaise pointed at him and said, "Never joke about food. I hoped to do lobster but it's murder on the floor and people always drop it."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

Draco lazily kicked at the base of the counter. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and couldn't meet Blaise's eyes when he asked,

"Do you still want to sell this house?"

Blaise shook his head as he began to pull mixing bowls from various cabinets.

"No, I don't. I thought about what you said to me, how love only appears once you have settled. Having you here this week helped me to see I am happy as I am. I cook for my godson every week, my restaurant is doing well, and I am here for my family when you need me. For some reason, I believed I should be working toward something. I suppose this whole time I've been working to ensure exactly what you said just now: that Scorpius always knows how much he is loved. I recognize that I am happy in this steadiness."

"Good, then." Draco admitted, "Messy as the past few years have been, I am happy this family stayed together the way it has."

"Alla come viene, viene."