Chapter 10: Caught off guard
It was an unusually early Sunday morning for Blaise and Pansy, who usually slept in until noon. But at around 10 o'clock, a loud, incessant banging on the door jolted them both awake. Startled, Blaise groggily slipped into his robe and made his way downstairs to see who could possibly be interrupting his rare, quiet weekend. When he opened the door, he found Draco standing there, looking absolutely furious.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here on a Sunday morning?" Blaise asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Draco shoved a crumpled letter into Blaise's hands. "Look at this!" he growled. "They're trying to destroy my life! I thought I was done with my punishment for the war, that I was a free man now. But no. It's bad enough people keep looking at me like I'm still a bloody Death Eater, but now the Ministry's trying to control my life again. They don't want me to get married. I bet they're trying to stop me from having kids!"
Blaise, now fully awake, blinked at Draco in confusion. "Wait, slow down," he said, holding up the letter. "What are you talking about?"
"They keep adding to my punishment!" Draco fumed. "I would've accepted anything right after the war, but why now? They can't just keep changing the terms!"
Blaise, a seasoned lawyer who prided himself on handling even the most complicated legal matters, sighed as he took the letter. Draco often hired lawyers to handle his business dealings, but when it came to personal matters, he always sought Blaise's counsel. Despite the early hour, Blaise's professional instincts kicked in as he unfolded the parchment. His eyes widened in disbelief as he read:
Dear Mr. Malfoy,
We hope this letter finds you well. This is to inform you that a restriction has been placed on your ability to enter into a marriage for the next six (6) weeks. Please note that during this period, any attempt to bind in marriage will not be successful.
The reason for this restriction is confidential and cannot be disclosed at this time. However, we assure you that all relevant information will be made available shortly. Should the matter be resolved sooner, the restriction will be lifted accordingly.
We kindly request your patience and cooperation as this process unfolds. Rest assured that this measure is necessary.
Thank you for your understanding.
Oliver Smith,
Sincerely,
Department of Civil Records
Ministry of Magic
"Merlin's beard," Blaise muttered, glancing up from the letter. "Draco, this has nothing to do with the war…"
"What?" Draco snapped. "Then what is it?"
Blaise looked up from the letter, his face solemn. "This isn't about punishing you or stopping you from getting married. They sent this letter because you might soon become a father."
Draco's jaw dropped. "What? No, that's impossible," he stammered. "I can't—what do you mean I'm going to be a father?"
Pansy, who had descended the stairs after overhearing part of the conversation, snatched the letter from Blaise's hand and gave it a quick glance. "Oh, Draco, you're definitely going to be a father," she said, her lips curling into a sly smile. "And I bet it's Granger."
"What?" Draco recoiled, looking horrified. "No, no, that's impossible! Granger's way too smart for that. She's definitely on some kind of contraceptive! No, it can't be her."
Pansy giggled. "Maybe she's such a prude she didn't think it was necessary."
"I'm on contraceptives too," Draco countered, his voice growing more defensive by the second. "A strong, expensive one, at that. It's impossible to tamper with. There's no way this is real—maybe this is some kind of joke."
Blaise shook his head." this letter looks authentic. Let me get it verified anyway."
While Blaise disappeared to verify the authenticity of the letter, Pansy leaned in closer to Draco, her curiosity piqued. "So, what are you going to do if it's real?" she asked, her voice more serious than usual.
Draco, looking unusually pale and lost for words, rubbed his temples in frustration. "What can I do?" he muttered, almost to himself. "All the cards are in her hands. If she decides to keep the child, I'm either stuck with a witch who hates me, a boring one, or worse—one who expects me to become my father. Either way, it's going to be a nightmare."
Pansy raised an eyebrow, suppressing a chuckle. "The boring one? You mean the one you slept with to get over Granger?" she teased, her laughter spilling out despite the seriousness of the situation.
"No, it wasn't like that," Draco snapped, his voice defensive. "She was nice."
"Exactly," Pansy said, a sly grin on her face. "You don't go for 'nice' girls, Draco. You've got standards. You like excitement, challenge, a bit of danger. That's why 'nice' doesn't do it for you."
Draco glared at her, choosing to dodge the topic rather than feed into Pansy's teasing. "What am I going to do?" he said softly, his voice almost breaking. "I'd be a terrible father, Pans. I'm terrified I'll turn into him. You know what they say—sooner or later, we all become our fathers." He sighed, staring at the floor as though the weight of his words had physically pulled him down.
Pansy's smile faded, and her expression softened. She stepped closer and placed a comforting hand on Draco's arm. "Hey, Draco, that's only true for people who didn't go through what you did. You went through one of the most intense rehabilitation programs ever. You're not your father, and you'll never be."
Draco laughed weakly, though the fear still lingered in his eyes. "I hope you're right," he murmured, looking away as if to hide how much her words meant to him.
They spent the next two hours talking about everything but the letter, their usual banter a temporary escape from the uncertainty looming over Draco's head. Pansy cracked jokes about Blaise's dull taste in food, Draco reminisced about their school days, and they laughed like nothing was wrong. But every now and then, a heavy silence would settle over them, a reminder of the conversation still hanging in the air.
Eventually, Blaise returned, a somber expression on his face as he held the letter in his hand. Draco and Pansy immediately straightened in their seats, their lighthearted conversation fading into tense anticipation.
Blaise cleared his throat. "This letter is real, Draco."
Draco's face went blank, the color draining from his already pale skin. "No, no, this can't be happening," he whispered, shaking his head. His voice wavered, filled with disbelief. "This can't be happening, Blaise. I—this isn't real."
Pansy, sensing his growing panic, quickly put a comforting arm around Draco's shoulders. "Hey, hey," she said softly, trying to calm him down. "You're going to be fine. You're going to be a wonderful father, Draco. I know it."
Draco looked at her, his eyes wide with fear. He offered a weak smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks, Pans," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you're right."
Blaise, who had been quietly observing the scene, finally spoke up. "Alright, let's not get too ahead of ourselves. We don't know for sure if Granger will even keep the baby."
Draco shot him a look. "We don't even know if it's Granger," he retorted, clearly grasping for anything to hold onto. "It could be Lucy, or Rosemary"
Blaise shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "Actually, Draco, I've been doing a bit of digging."
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, frowning.
"Well," Blaise began, pacing slightly as he spoke, "after I went to check the authenticity of the letter, I paid a visit to another one of my contacts at the Civil Records department.
Pansy leaned forward, intrigued. "And?"
"And," Blaise continued, "I pretended to represent the witch in question—the one who's supposedly pregnant but isn't sure who the father is. I asked if there was a way we could figure out the timeline, you know, to narrow it down."
Draco's frown deepened. "And?"
Blaise smirked, always one to enjoy drawing out a reveal. "Turns out, by the time a pregnancy is detected a witch is usually 1 to 2 months pregnant."
"So?" Draco pressed.
"So, Lucy doesn't even fit the time frame. Rosemary is on the very edge. It's more likely that it's granger. She is right in the middle, around the time when 80% of pregnancies are detected" Blaise said, crossing his arms.
Draco's heart sank. His mind raced, trying to process what this meant. "Granger…?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It can't be her. She—she would never—she's too smart, she—" His words trailed off as reality set in.
"Well, at least if it is Granger, you know she won't let you turn into your father.". Said Blaise trying to lighten the mood with an ill-timed joke.
Draco clenched his jaw, trying to push back the wave of anxiety threatening to overtake him. Yes, Blaze was right—Granger wouldn't stand for that. She was strong, principled, everything his father had hated in a person. But with their history, things were bound to get ugly.
"I don't know what to do," Draco admitted, sinking back into the chair, feeling utterly defeated. "I'm not ready for this. Not with Granger. Not with anyone"
Pansy gave him a sympathetic look, though her amusement hadn't entirely disappeared. "You'll figure it out, Draco. You always do."
Blaise nodded in agreement. "Just take it one step at a time, mate. You don't need to solve everything today."
Draco exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of their words, but the looming uncertainty still gnawed at him. He could only hope that whatever came next wouldn't destroy everything he'd built since the war.
A/N: So Draco knows now. He will talk to Hermione in the next chapter. Thanks for reading. Please review.
