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The Baby Project by blackroserei

Format: Novella
Chapters: 11
Word Count: 32,675
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Strong Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: General, Humor
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, Snape, OC
Pairings: Draco/Hermione

First Published: 12/19/2005
Last Chapter: 07/01/2010
Last Updated: 01/10/2011

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 Thanks to Brunette for the absolutely perfect and lovely banner!

It's seventh year and the teachers have something new to teach- a parenting class.And off are the pairings of horror, two "parents" taking care of a six year old child. And guess who Hermione Granger has just been paired with..

Chapter 1: The Shock
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DISLCAIMER- The idea of the baby project came to me by a friend of mine who read IcyPanther's story on Please go check out her story. I would like to attribute some of the ideas to her.

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The Shock

Ron nearly choked when he heard the news.

A what?

“A parenting class,” Harry repeated, raising his goblet to his lips to take a sip or orange juice. “Didn’t Charlie or Bill tell you about it?”

Ron shook his head.

“Well they wouldn’t have,” Hermione put in from beside Harry. “They only started it about two to three years ago.”

“Well then how in the bloody hell do you know about it?”

Hermione shrugged lazily, flipping her wavy hair over a shoulder. She had to contain an eye roll as Ron continued to throw her confused looks. Sighing with exasperation, she finally snatched her schedule from her robe pocket and put it in Ron’s face.


Where a normal elective class would be, now that they were in seventh year and had more options, “Parents of the Future” was delicately scrawled with “Rye” written in beside it.

“I still don’t understand why, though,” Harry commented, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Responsibility,” Hermione said cheerily. She took a bite her jelly covered toast and continued. “You know, in muggle classes where they give you the egg to take care of? It’ll probably be something like that, although I have a feeling that Dumbledore will be more creative than poultry.”

Harry, Seamus, and Dean nodded, having knowledge about some high school courses that muggles were forced to take. Ron and Neville, however, looked perplexed.

“Why would someone look after an egg?” Ron questioned, glancing down at his plate where the said product was scrambled with cheese.

“The egg is like a baby Ron,” Hermione explained.

“Well why not use a real one?”

Hermione, once again sighed, but with frustration. “Because you just can’t go around, taking people’s children, Ron. It’s called kid-”

She stopped abruptly, the sudden idea shooting into her head. Her eyes lit up and she grinned. They were going to use real kids! How ingenious…

“You okay?” Harry asked, rubbing Hermione’s shoulder. She nodded then spoke two words.

“Real kids?”

Harry threw a questioning look at her. “Pardon?”

“We’re using real kids, Harry!” she said excitedly, grasping his arm. “Instead of using fruit or whatever the hell else you want, he’s letting us use living children!”

Ron looked at her with horror etched onto his face. “And you’re happy about this?”

Hermione shrugged. “Yes.”

“Why? I’d rather use eggs!”

“What?! Why?”

“Do you have any idea about the hell I went though watching Ginny? She was bloody crazy,” Ron said, gesturing towards his sister who was currently over at the Hufflepuff table, flirting with Justin.

“Growing up in a house full of kids, you’d think that you would like the idea,” Harry stated. He cocked a slim eyebrow as he watched Ron shudder involuntarily t the memories he had of Ginny as a child.

“It’s made me abhor the company of children more than you think possible,” Ron spat, his voice venomous. “She took a dump on my bed once, just for the hell of it.”

Hermione spit her juice into her food, her plate reappearing with a small ‘pop’ and returning with her food just as it was before the liquid made an acquaintance with it.

“I didn’t know it did that,” muttered Neville with surprise starring at her plate, oblivious to what Ron had just said.

Seamus let out a groan of disgust. “I’m eating, you git, honestly…”

Dean stared at the redheaded man with his eyebrows raised and then he glanced over at Ginny. Harry nearly choked on his laughter as his skin turned red from the effort.

“Dean’s never going to let her down from that one,” Hermione said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t, especially since Ginny had cast a charm on Dean last year that switched his gender every other day. It had eventually worn off but he was still scarred.

“Didn’t your mom just use ‘Scourgify’?” Harry asked, pushing his plate away with a knudge of his elbow.

Ron shook his head. “Apparently I went off on Ginny and made her cry. We made a mess when I chased her all over the house so I had to clean her crap from my sheets by hand.”

As the boys delved into a discussion about Quidditch, Hermione furrowed her brows as she thought of a question that she hadn’t discerned before. Ron noticed the look on her face and gently prodded her hand which was laying on the table.


“What are you thinking about, Mione?” he asked.

Hermione cringed at her pet name, hating it since Harry and Ron had started using it at the end of their sixth year. Se shrugged it off and took another bite of toast. Harry rested his head on her shoulder as if begging her to tell them.

“I was just wondering,” she began slowly. They looked at her expectantly. “If we’re the parents taking care of the kids, where do they get the children from?”

Sorry about the huge delay with the chapters. I went away for the Christmas Holidays to Boston and London, and of course, all that I've written is on my computer at home. I got back today ( Wed. Jan. 4) and am updating today so the next chp should be up pretty soon.

Chapter 2: The Class and The Child
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DISCLAIMER-The idea of the baby project came to me by a friend of mine who read IcyPanther's story on Please go check out her story. I would like to attribute some of the ideas to her.

The Class and The Child

“Welcome to “Parents of the Future”,” the professor greeted as the students walked through the door. Hermione, Harry, and Ron did a double take as they looked more closely at the women who was going to teach them on how to be parents.

She was short, with her flaming red hair pulled back into a messy bun. It looked as though she had lost some weight because her lavish, black robes were a little big on her lithe frame.

“Mum?!” Ron asked incredulously. “But you…home…baby…here…”

Mrs. Weasley smiled broadly as she looked at the three of them. “ Yes, I know but Dumbledore offered me this position over the summer. He said I’d be the perfect person to teach on parenting, considering how many children I have of my own.”

Ron was still looking at her with horror. “But the name….it said Rye!”

“Honestly, Ron! It’s my middle name. I’ve told you that a million times! I even hinted it to you all summer so you’d catch on!”

“Where’d the robes come from?” Ron questioned, scowling at his mother.

“Oh, your father got a huge promotion at the ministry yesterday. You were supposed to get the letter about it and your new robes today at breakfast. Now sit down the three of you, and still refer to me as Professor Rye, please. I did it so I wouldn’t completely embarrass you.”

They sat down as they watched Mrs. Weasley calmly walk up to the board and waited for all the students to settle in.

“As I’ve said once before, welcome to “Parents of the Future””, she said, grinning at the class. “ I’m sure that you’d all like an explanation so I’ll begin.”

“This class will be for a duration of a month and a half, where you and your partner will take care of a six year old child.”

Hermione gingerly raised her hand, snickering when Ron elbowed her under the table.

“Yes, Ms. Granger?”

“Where do you get the children from?”

Mrs. Weasley’s smile grew as she heard Hermione’s question. “That is what you’ll be finding out soon, when you arrive at you rooms. You will come to class only once more, at the end of the month and a half. A free period will replace this class, which you will use to bond with your child. You present your project at the end of the designated time, which will reflect your experience with your child and your partner. It can be an essay, a demonstration like a play, anything.”

The students were now all silent. They were looking at her with expressions of surprise, shock, and some excitement.

“I will put you in groups of three,” Mrs. Weasley continued. “Now I know your probably wondering why there’re three, and no Mr. Malfoy, I assure you it’s not some sort of sick, sexual threesome. One of you will become the child. Instructions on this will be found in the “home” that you’ll be staying in. Issues of the one who is turned to a child are resolved. Two extra weeks have been added to the school year to help them catch up.”

Groans erupted from the students and Ron raised his hand.

“Yes, Ron.”

He winced as she used his name and students looked at him with confusion.

“But the bloke…or girl,” he added as Lavender threw him a nasty glare. “ who does get turned into a kid don’t really learn how to parent because they’ve been the child the whole time.”

Her blue eyes twinkled at her son. “ But they do. The child retains all the information and experiences that occur in the month and a half. Who does a child learn best from, but their guardians?” Silence. “ Now that’s enough. Time for groups.”

“First, the Head Girl and the Head Boy are automatically paired. A partner of the choice of the Head Boy is allowed because it’s his week to make decisions. Raise your hand if you’re a Head.”

Moaning with annoyance, Hermione raised her hand, along with Malfoy.

“Good, now who do you pick, Mr. Malfoy?”

He seemed to think for a second before choosing Blaise Zabini, another handsome Slytherin.

“Next, Mr. Potter, Mr. Finnigan, and Ms, Parkinson.”

Harry seemed to pale so much that he was nearly white. Pansy looked up from examining her manicure nails with a mask of horror on her pug like face.

“Mr. Thomas, Ms. Brown, and Mr. Weasley.”

“Ms. Bones, Mr. Boot, Ms. Bulstrode.”

“Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Turnpin, and Ms. Parvati Patil.”

It went on until all of the students were in threes, grumbling about who their partners were.

Most of the girls were throwing envious looks at Hermione, especially Pansy. She had been paired with the infamous, beautiful Draco Malfoy and the gorgeous Italian, Blaise Zabini. She let her gaze travel over the two. Malfoy certainly was handsome, with his almost silver, long blond hair, sharp features, high cheekbones, slender and tall muscular body and molten gray eyes. Blaise was his opposite, with violet eyes and long black hair, although he nearly matched Malfoy’s height. Hermione turned away as she felt someone approach her from behind.

“You’re mother won’t embarrass you , Ron,” she said automatically as she watched Mrs. Weasley go around to each group, obviously telling them something important.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he said, looking at meaningfully.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Well then what is it-”

“Mr. Weasley!” His mother’s voice now held a special authorative tone she probably kept just for her children.

Hermione watched Ron’s cheeks flush and go red as he mumbled an incoherent ‘yes’.

“Get back to you group and stop pestering Ms. Granger.

He scowled and muttered under his breath, “I’ll talk to you later.”

Mrs. Weasley bustled over to Hermione, beaming at her. “You didn’t tell me that you got Head Girl,” she stated, a stern tone playing in with her happiness. Hermione felt the two Slytherins raise their eyebrows behind her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t find out until I got to Hogwarts. And then I found that this ‘thing’” She motioned towards Malfoy with her head. “ received the position of Head Boy.”

Mrs. Weasley patted Hermione’s shoulder apologetically and ushered the three so that they were standing in a circle.

“Your rooms will be on the fourth floor, by the statue of a phoenix and a boar. The portrait will be one of Venarion, a young man playing chess. Your password is “unity” and may not be changed under any circumstances. Understand?”

They nodded as Mrs. Weasley gave them a piece of parchment, which was obviously a map, with the password scrawled at the bottom.

Turning away from them, she once more stepped in front of the class and began to speak. “With your child, you must be careful. Any extreme harm that happens to them will deduct points from your grade. You may NOT let a younger student baby sit, although fellow seventh years may watch after the child.”

“There are three rooms to each ‘house’, so please take the room that is assigned to you. All professors can enter the houses at any given moment, if an emergency appears, and you would not want them to find you in a compromising position.”

Small giggles erupted from the girls on the class and Hermione bit back a laugh as Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“You have the rest of the day to plan schedules, as to who’s taking the child where. There will be a ‘marriage ceremony’ tomorrow as you will play the role of parents to the child. It will take the place of this class, so please be on time at the Great Hall. You all can leave, and I only wish you the best of luck!”

The sonorous bell that signaled the end of the classes ricocheted through the castle, sending the students in a desperate frenzy to escape their professors.

“Immediately find your home!” Mrs. Weasley called out from behind the, as they bustled through the door.

As the students flooded into the hall, Hermione saw Malfoy and Blaise standing off in a corner, obviously waiting for her and annoyed. She quickly hugged Harry and Ron, although Ron held onto her a little longer than necessary, and made her way over to the two Slytherins as her best friends left with their groups.

“Hermione saw Blaise’s and Draco’s eyes flicker over her body and face appreciatively and she inwardly groaned. It was going to be a long project.

“I like your hair,” Blaise murmured, picking up a smooth tendril from her shoulder. “It’s beautiful.”

Hermione shifted with the strange contact. Did a Slytherin actually touch her willingly?

She eyed him warily. “Thank you, Zabini.”

She had to say that her hair was nice and Hermione ran a slim hand through it. Her hair, weighted down with thickness, became wavy and glossy, gently curling into tendrils at the tips. The brown color now shimmered with shades of deep red, auburn, and dark brown, all mixing together to form a beautiful hue that many couldn’t describe.

Her eyes, which used to be ,faintly, the color of dirt, had lightened into an amber, almost golden color. They darkened to a tone of russet when she became angry or excited. She was a bit taller, standing around 5”5, slim with long legs and a curvy figure. Hermione shifted uncomfortably as they continued to stare.

“So!” she said loudly, clapping her hands as she watched the other students of their class disappear to find their houses. “ We may want to get moving.”

The two young men nodded and the three made their ways through halls and steps. The portraits whispered as the three passed, their oil eyes following them down the corridor. Apparently, they had never seen a Gryffindor and a Slytherin so close to each other, not fighting, without first committing suicide or homicide

“Where’s the room?” Malfoy asked sharply. He had his arms crossed over his lean chest. Hermione was almost glad that he had spoken. The echoing that the silence made against the stone was almost too much to bare.

Hermione glanced down at the piece of parchment in her hands. “Fourth Floor, with a portrait of a man playing chess, between statues of a phoenix and a boar.”

They stayed in silence for a moment, as if in thought and once more looked around.

“We’re on the fourth floor,” stated Blaise, turning towards Hermione. “What portrait, again?”

“A man named Venarion, playing chess,” she repeated.

“I’m here.”

Hermione held back a shriek and backed away from the statue she had been standing by. Her eyes traveled over the stone. It was a beautifully etched, monolithic phoenix. Malfoy looked at her in amusement as Blaise bent down to pick up the piece of paper she had dropped.

“I’m here,” the voice said again, clearly annoyed.

Hermione stepped back and her gaze landed on a rather large portrait the height of a full man and the width of one ( 6’ by 6’). A silver haired man sat there, his chest board full with pieces, although he had no opponent.

“Venarion?” Hermione queried, looking at him cautiously. His amber eyes, so much like her own, flickered over to her.

He was a beautiful specimen of a man, his long molten hair, as silver as a pence, hanging into a face with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and stunning eyes.

“That is me.” He paused, his gaze landing on Malfoy and Blaise, who were standing behind her. “The Baby project?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes.”

His handsome face broke into a stunning smile. “Finally! My room’s have been empty for a year now. Password?”

“Unity,” Malfoy said from Hermione’s right. Venarion nodded, his grin now a smile and swung open.

Hermione stepped in first, followed by Malfoy and Blaise. She let out a very soft gasp as she saw the room. The main room was huge with a domed ceiling. There was a large fireplace with a rather large sofa and huge armchairs, arranged to form a big sitting area. A coffee table sat in the middle of them. Shelves lined part of the deep red walls, the color complimenting the russet color of the couches and armchairs. An intricate carpet lay on top of the hardwood floor.

Three doors were opposite the entrance and to the wall, right of them, white French doors led off onto a huge balcony. The living room opened up into a study area in the corner which led to a large and nice kitchen, accompanied by an island and stools.

“It’s nice,” complimented Malfoy, standing beside her. His voice was monotone. “ Although the manor’s nicer. I can see that a bloody Gryffindor decorated this room.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she made her way past the sitting area. She bent down to pick up a note on the coffee table, upon which, three glasses appeared on the top. She motioned for them to follow her.

“What is it?” Blaise asked, looking at the glasses skeptically.

“They’re called cups, Blaise,” Malfoy replied scathingly, leaning down to pick one of the goblets up. He sniffed it.

Blaise threw him a nasty look. “I know that. But what’s in it?”

Hermione wrapped her fingers around a glass and picked it up, peering down inside

“Some sort of powder,” she answered, her eyes lighting up. Her eyes landed on the note and she snatched it before Malfoy could.

“Welcome to your home students…simply eat one pinch of this, one inch only per person.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

Hermione took one last look at the two before she took up a pinch of the purple powder and stuck it in her mouth. She winced at the slightly bitter taste as the grain swept down her throat. She then looked up to see Blaise and Malfoy bickering over which glass to choose.

“I want that one, you git,” Malfoy challenged, pointing to the cup in Blaise’s hands.


Blaise grinned devishly before took up a pinch and stuck it in his mouth. Malfoy then ate his powder grudgingly, scowling at Blaise over the top of his cup. They waited a couple of moments before Hermione turned towards Malfoy.

“Maybe it didn’t work,” she began, but then stopped when she saw Malfoy’s gaze divert to her legs. She gave him a nasty look. “Really Malfoy, there’s no need to stare at my-”

She froze as she felt a hand tug on her robes from behind. Slowly, Hermione turned around, only to be met with the site of an adorable young child with long black hair and stunning violet eyes. She managed a weak smile as she bent down to the little boy’s eye level.

He spoke.

“Are you my mummy?”

Chapter 3: Civilty
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DISCLAIMER-The idea of the baby project came to me by a friend of mine who read IcyPanther's story on Please go check out her story. I would like to attribute some of the ideas to her.


Hermione’s smile faltered as she heard his words. Didn’t Mrs. Weasley say something about playing the child’s parents?

Malfoy nudged her gently in her back which made Hermione realize that she had frozen. She slightly turned her head to look at Malfoy over her shoulder, giving him a look of worry.

“What the hell should I say?” she mouthed to him, her cheeks flustering as Blaise tried to see what she was saying.

Malfoy nodded encouragingly and she raised an eyebrow. Malfoy wanting to actually take responsibility of someone other than himself? With her? As his wife?

Hermione turned back around, her smile now in full effect as Blaise eyed her with hope in his violet eyes. She rested a hand on his cheek.

“Of course I am.”

Blaise grinned, more adorable than he was before. His gaze landed on Malfoy who was smiling slightly at the small child. “And is this daddy?”

Malfoy’s eyes widened and Hermione straightened, looking at him with a bemused expression on her face. She placed her hands on her hips as Blaise looked at him expectantly.

Malfoy swallowed and kneeled so he was the height of the boy. “Yes, I am Blaise.”

After a moment, Blaise wrapped his small arms around Malfoy’s neck and grinned up at Hermione. She couldn’t help but smile fondly at him. Who knew that the flirty, conniving Slytherin used to be a sweet child?

“Why aren’t you hugging daddy, mummy?”

She stiffened and she saw Malfoy look at her, a smirk on his handsome face. She went pale as he stood, taking Blaise’s small hand in his large one.

“Yea, Granger, why aren’t you hugging me?”

“Well, Malfoy, I really don’t want to soil my robes at this time of day…and they’re new.”

Blaise looked up at the two with confusion. “Your first name isn’t Granger, is it mummy? And daddy’s first name can’t be Malfoy…those sound bad.”

“Those are our last names,” Malfoy answered, a bit too quickly. He bit his lip as he realized what he just informed the little child of.

“But I thought you were married.” Blaise’s lower lip trembled a bit and his eyes were shiny with tears. “That’s what you told me when I was five.” He held up five fingers as if to show them the importance of his age.

Hermione threw Malfoy a caustic glare before taking the little boy into her arms and soothing his hair back so he wouldn’t cry.

“Ummm…we were,” she explained, letting go of Blaise as he sniffled. “But after a certain time, the marriage runs out so we….er….need to get a new one. We get married again tomorrow.”

“Oh!” His face brightened.

Blaise ran to Malfoy, who became rigid as the little boy gave him another hug. Hermione watched them both in amusement, enjoying Malfoy’s awkwardness.

“Let’s find your room, shall we?” Hermione suggested, holding her hand out to Blaise. He immediately grabbed it, following her excitedly as they walked towards the door in the center of the three. Malfoy reluctantly followed.

Hermione let Blaise open the door and held back a gasp as she saw their surroundings.

Blaise’s bed was against the wall across from the door and quite large for a six year old. His comforter, pillows, and sheets were mixes of dark and light blues. His comforter had hippogriffs and dragons eloquently stitched into the dark fabric. A French door was on the wall opposite, leading onto a sunny balcony.

His walls were a lighter blue and the little dragons that flew around the room served as the border. Two chests that stood on the wall opposite the bed were filled to the brim with toys and by them sat a wooden rocking chair with a blue cushion. Shelves above the toy chests were neatly stacked with children’s books and photos and stuffed animals.

Hermione took a few steps so that she was in front of the shelves, leaning in to get a better look at the pictures. One was of her and Malfoy with a smiling Blaise between them, at the beach. Another was of Blaise trying to eat ice cream, which then dropped on his shirt, with a laughing Hermione beside him. A third was of her and Malfoy, cuddling on a balcony, the stars of night a back drop behind them.

She raised an eyebrow when she realized the extent of Dumbledore’s seriousness with the project. He had enchanted photos and probably created a fake past that was administered to each potion that gave the child a real memory of the two students being their parents.

She watched as Blaise squealed and jumped on his bed, leaning into Malfoy. “He really went all out,” she told him, as the little boy made his way over to the toy chests. “He has a memory of us and the photos are enchanted.”

Malfoy gave her a look before gazing at the pictures himself. “As if I’d actually marry you, Granger,” he commented, snorting.

“Shut up,” she hissed. Blaise gave Malfoy a perplexed look as the use of their last names again.

“I have a question to ask,” Hermione said quietly. “If I’m married to you, I become Mrs. Malfoy, unfortunately.” She shuddered. “So does that mean that Blaise is a Malfoy?”

Her partner shrugged. “I guess so. Not that it matters. This ‘thing’ or whatever we’re doing isn’t permanent do I don’t care.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and then spoke. “I have an idea for our project, Malfoy. We could take pictures of things that happen, events, things like that. Important things. Then we could put them in an album.”

“Fine,” he answered stiffly. “But do you have a wizarding camera?”

“Of course,” Hermione replied.

She glanced down at her watch. It was almost time for dinner. Had they really spent that much time trying to find their rooms?

“We have to go,” she said hurriedly to Malfoy and Blaise.

“Where?” the little boy questioned.

Hermione paused, getting her story straight. “See, mummy and daddy are still in school so we have to go to the Great Hall for meals and classes.”

“Okay,” Blaise said carefully. “Are there others my age?”

“Of course,” Hermione answered, smiling brightly. “But we have to go to dinner.”

Blaise came up to her and took her hand and Hermione led him out the door, glaring at Malfoy as they passed.

“You could make an effort,” she hissed at him. Malfoy rolled his eyes and took Blaise’s other hand. They exited their rooms and waved Venarion goodbye.

“I really don’t want to be seen with you,” Malfoy said to Hermione under his breath as they made their way through the halls, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed them and the six year old Blaise.

“Well neither do I,” she snarled back quietly, making sure that Blaise couldn’t hear her. “But it’s a project. We don’t have a damn choice.”

“He’s sitting with you tonight,” Malfoy announced. He winced as Blaise began to swing himself between them, using their arms as leverage. “He’ll sit with me tomorrow at breakfast.”

Hermione clenched her teeth. “Fine.”

They had reached the Great Hall and Hermione could see that they were the first couple of the class to arrive. All four houses went silent as she, Malfoy, and Blaise walked in. Some whispers went into the air.

“They have a child?”

“Has hell frozen over? A Gryffindor and Slytherin together?”

“Oh. My. God.”

Hermione bit her lip to keep from yelling at them for their stupidity. She froze as Blaise opened his mouth to say something.

“I want to sit with mummy today,” he said rather loudly, latching himself onto Hermione’s leg.

Malfoy looked at Hermione with annoyance, obviously irked at Blaise for wanting to be with her instead of him. “That’s fine.”

He began to walk away when Blaise ran up to him. “Daddy?”

“Yes?” Malfoy asked through clenched teeth. A faint tint appeared on his pale cheeks as he looked around at everyone staring at them.

“I want a hug.”

Malfoy froze and turned slowly to look at the small boy behind him. He stiffly opened his arms and hugged Blaise, staring Hermione down over the boy’s shoulder. Blaise released Malfoy and made his way over to Hermione, smiling happily.

She sat down next to Ginny who gave her questioning look.

“It’ll be explained later,” Hermione mumbled to her, ignoring the questions her other house mates directed at her.

“He’s adorable,” Ginny gushed, obviously getting Hermione’s hint.

Blaise grinned at the red head, his dimples showing. “Thank you. I get it from mummy.”

Hermione smiled at the little boy and ruffled his long hair. “Why thank you, young sir.”

It became quiet as another couple walked in . It was a horrified Harry with Pansy who was stalking in behind him. Attached to her hip was a six year old Seamus, adorable with his messy brown hair and large hazel eyes.

“Why does my voice sound different from yours, mummy?” Seamus asked Pansy, tugging on her school robes.

Pansy glowered at Harry a minute before answering. “Because you lived with grandma in Ireland. I guess she….rubbed off on you.”

“I don’t remember staying with Grandma,” Seamus said, looking confused.

She froze for a moment, then spoke. “Yes, well you wouldn’t. You don’t want to remember that horrid woman. She‘s on your father‘s side.” Pansy added, looking pointedly at Harry. “He gets all his qualities from her.”

Seamus let go of Pansy’s robes and jumped onto Harry, nearly knocking him over and gave him a hug. Pansy stood beside them, tapping her foot impatiently.

“He’s sitting with me, Potter,” she seethed, gently pulling Seamus from Harry. “You get him tomorrow.”

Harry shrugged and smiled down at Seamus before shooting Pansy a nasty glare. The two walked off to the Slytherin table as Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table.

“Pansy?” Hermione asked, trying to still a bouncing Blaise on her lap.

Harry looked at the small child. “Is that Blaise Zabini?”

The black haired boy looked up at Harry with a frown. “My last name is Malfoy. Mummy and Daddy said so.”

Harry opened his mouth a little with shock and Hermione smiled weakly before nodding in agreement.

“I like your hair,” Blaise continued, reaching for Harry’s hair before Hermione pulled him back. “It’s like mine!”

“Don’t go pulling at other people’s hair, Blaise,” Hermione scolded. Blaise pouted and slid from her legs, resting on the bench. “So how is being partnered with Pansy going?”

“Badly,” Harry told her, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sleeve. “She began to coo over Seamus when we got him, then became all protective when I tried to hug him. She’s very motherly. She screeched at me when I said bugger and-”

“That’s a bad word!” Blaise accused, pointing at Harry.

Hermione glared at Harry before smoothing down Blaise’s hair. “Yes it is. Don’t repeat it.”

“Anyway, she’s ultra protective and she talks too much. But get this. There were even photos of us on vacations and things! Can you believe that?!”

Hermione nodded. “We have them too. I guess Dumbledore is really serious about it.”

Harry shrugged and both of them glanced over at the Slytherin table. Pansy was playing with Seamus as Malfoy kept throwing glares at Hermione. When he noticed her and Blaise sitting next to Harry, the blond stood up, making his way to the Gryffindor table.

His face was still flushed when he approached them. “If Blaise is going to be around Potter, make sure he doesn’t say anything inappropriate. Then he’ll go repeating it.”

Hermione gasped sardonically.

“Malfoy? Actually caring for someone but himself?” Hermione said sarcastically. “Amazing!”

He scowled. “Whatever. I don’t want him influenced by your pot head friends Granger. I mean it.”

“My friends? I should be worried about yours.” Hermione nodded at Goyle, Crabbe and Nott. “He may catch something horrible from them, possibly stupidity. Besides, I’m sure your friends use just as much ‘inappropriate’ language as mine do, if not more.”

“I’m serious. If I learn that Potter has said something-”

“Where do you get off, saying all of this? You acted like you didn’t even care earlier!”

Blaise noticed them fighting and he bit his small lip, before Ginny hugged him and tried to distract him with her multi colored quill.

“Look I don’t want to fight here,” Hermione said, lowering her voice. “Nothing is going to happen. And I’m sure that all you care about is your grade.”

Malfoy glared at her before making his way back to his own table. The hall went quiet as another couple walked into the hall. Hermione nearly choked on her Pumpkin Juice.

It was Ron.

With Dean.

And a six year old Lavender.

Hermione met Harry’s gaze, trying her best not to laugh at their other best friend. Snickers filled the air as Lavender, who had large blue eyes and long, brown pigtails, played with Dean’s hand.

“I wish I was tan like you Daddy number two,” Lavender said, smiling at the dark skinned boy widely. “It’s a very, very nice color of brown. I like brown. Do you remember at the beach, when…”

Lavender babbled on as a pale Ron and a reddening Dean sat down at the table. Lavender noticed Blaise and her eyes lit up.

“Are you six?” she questioned.


“I am too!”

Blaise smiled at the little girl before looking up at Hermione questioningly.

“Go ahead,” she urged.

Blaise crawled under the table to sit next to Lavender, who wanted to play house with the spoons and forks. The little boy refused but laughed as the utensils made out.

Hermione looked up at Ron, who now was going red. Dean looked rather uncomfortable when he saw Ginny across from him.

“Congratulations,” Harry said, smiling broadly at them. “You’re a gay couple!”

“Shut up!” hissed Ron. His ears were now scarlet. “I hate this. Why didn’t Dean or I change into a child?”

“It’s not like you have to do anything Ron,” Hermione put in encouragingly. “You have separate rooms and everyone will know that it’s a project when Dumbledore announces it.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to explain to Lavender why she has two fathers?” Ron asked, looking at the little girl. “And she wants to know which one of us has the vagina! Honestly! What six year old girl knows about a vagina?!”

“Tell her she’s adopted,” Ginny offered.

“We did,” Dean said. “She was a little down in the dumps before but she’s fine with it. But we had to explain why we don’t sleep in the same beds or kiss.” Both boys shuddered at the thought.

Ron looked at Blaise before locking his gaze on Hermione. “Blaise Zabini?” Recognition dawned on his face. “Then that means you’re paired with that bugger-”

“That’s a bad word!” Blaise said from beside Lavender.

Hermione glared at Ron and he mumbled an apology under his breath. The little boy turned back to his friend.

“So you’re paired with Malfoy?”


“So you’re Mrs. Hermione Malfoy?” Ron sniggered.

Hermione scowled. “I wouldn’t be laughing. Have you thought about which name you’re going to get, Ron?” she leered. “Mr. Ronald Thomas?”

Dean looked up and paled a little. “If we absolutely have to get married, we’re definitely taking my name. Lavender Thomas sounds better than Lavender Weasley.”

“What?” Ron protested. “No it doesn’t!”

“Yes it does,” Harry commented.

Hermione looked up to see Terry and Susan walk in with a mini Millicent who had sloe green eyes and brown hair that ran down her back. She had actually been cute when she was little. The two made their way to the Hufflepuff table, explaining the situation as they passed fellow classmates

Harry‘s green eyes followed the three and then snapped to Hermione‘s face. “So that means there’s only-”

Neville ran into the hall, the end of his robes in tatters and colored different shades of pink, tailed by a six year old Rachel Turnpin who was giggling with delight. She was followed by a frantic Parvati.

“Rachel, don’t do that to Daddy’s robes!” Parvati called out, trying to catch the hyper little girl.

“Yes!” Neville responded, trying to dart away from Rachel. “Listen to your mother!”

Finally, Parvati grabbed Rachel by her middle and hauled her over to the Gryffindor table, Neville in her wake. She sat next to Ginny as Neville sat across from them next to Dean.

“Is that Lavender?” the dark haired girl asked, leaning over to get a better look at her brunette friend.

“Yes,” Ron answered.

“So that means that you and Dean are-”

“Yes,” repeated Ron, who was extremely red and angry now. “So can we please stop saying it!”

Parvati held up her hands in defeat and focused her attention on trying to calm Rachel down.

“Why does she attack you?” Hermione questioned Neville, who was eying the little girl with apprehension.

“I don’t know!” he answered, exasperated. “She claims it’s some sort of game we play!”

Hermione laughed but nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt a hand on her leg. Blaise’s smiling face appeared from under the table and she picked him up, balancing him on her knee.

Dumbledore stood and Blaise giggled .

“He has a long beard!”

Lavender seemed to like it more though, because she slid from her seat and ran up to the teacher’s table and then to his golden podium. All of the students and teachers went silent

“I love you hair!” she squealed, tugging at Dumbledore’s beard. She touched the colorful beads woven into some of his braids (in his beard). “Ohhhh….pretty!”


Ron ran up from his seat and grabbed the little girl by her hand, apologizing profusely to the Headmaster. Dumbledore merely chuckled and smiled.

“It’s quite alright Mr. Weasley,” he said. “It was an excellent introduction to what I was about to announce.” He looked back up at the student body. “That was, as mot of you are wondering, a six year old Lavender. You may be wondering why. Hogwarts, as some of you already know, has started a ‘Parents of the Future’ program, where student are paired off in threes.

One of them is turned back into their six year old self and for a month and a half, the remaining two take care of the child. Tomorrow, there will be a wedding ceremony between the five pairs that you all will witness. One of the groups however, consists of two boys.” All eyes turned to Ron and Dean. “They do not have to go through the ceremony if they do not wish to. Now that that is done, let’s eat!”

Blaise and Lavender squealed as the food appeared on the table. Hermione made a small plate for Blaise, who dug in hungrily. She was worried about tomorrow. As if it wasn’t enough that she had to marry Malfoy in front of everyone, they also had Double Potions with the Slytherins.

She let her eyes wander and her gaze eventually connected with Malfoy’s. He looked a little grim but he motioned towards Blaise, who was looking tired. She nodded. She was getting sleepy herself.

Malfoy got up and made his way over to them, oblivious to Ron and Harry’s glares.

“What’re you doing over here?” Ron questioned nastily.

“He’s my son too, Weasley,” Malfoy snarled at the redhead. “Get over it.”

Ron scowled and pulled Hermione into a quick hug over the table. “Be careful,” he whispered in her ear.

Hermione smiled against his shoulder and nodded. She pulled away, hugging Harry goodnight also.

Malfoy picked Blaise up, the little boy completely asleep now. His head hung over Malfoy’s arm, limply.

“Is he heavy?” Hermione asked as they left the Great Hall. She could feel many eyes on them and she shifted uncomfortably.

“No,” answered Malfoy. After a moment of silence and making their way up the Grand Staircase, he spoke again. “He likes you, you know.”

Hermione looked at him, startled. “What?”

“Blaise. He liked you before he was turned into this.’ Draco motioned towards the immobile boy in his arms. “That’s why he adores you so much now.”

“Um….well…ah…thanks for letting me know. Not that I wanted to know, but thank you anyway.”

Malfoy nodded, shifting the weight of Blaise so that the small child was propped up against his shoulder.

“Can we at least be civil?” Hermione asked. “It’s going to be hard trying to do this project when the kid we’re supposed to be parents of, knows we hate each other.”

“If Granger comes out or any other scathing insults, you’ll just be getting what you deserve.”

“Fine. The same on my part,” Hermione snapped angrily. “Unity,” she practically screamed at Venarion.

“No need to be so pushy,” he said to her as she walked through the portrait, a sleeping Blaise and Malfoy following her.

They both made their way to Blaise’s room, and Hermione waved her wand to turn on a nightlight that floated along the wall, careful not to wake up Blaise in turn. Malfoy gently laid Blaise down on his lush bed, drawing the covers up to cover the little boy. With a flick of her wand, again, and Blaise was in white pajamas with hippogriffs on them.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the child and as she looked at Malfoy, she saw that he couldn’t either. When he saw her gaze, Malfoy hardened his face again.

“We should start the project tomorrow, Granger,” he said coldly, still looking at the sleeping form of Blaise. “I’ll bathe him, if you want, you know him being a guy…and…yea…You can dress him I guess. But he sits with me at breakfast. Girls love guys who have cute little boys.”

Hermione eyed him with distaste. “You truly are disgusting, Malfoy. Using a child for your own benefit.”

“I wouldn’t be a Malfoy if I passed up the chance.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked out the room, Malfoy walking behind her. She quietly closed the doors and looked up at Malfoy.

“I get the bathroom first, if you’re going to wash him,” she stated, about to walk into her room.”

“Fine” He paused, his molten silver eyes seeming a bit troubled. “I’ll try to be as civil as I can…Hermione.”

She sighed as if she was tired. “Thanks, I know how hard it is, especially because of your…erm…views. It’s our grade, too, so I appreciate that you’re not being as selfish and arrogant as I’d though you’d be...goodnight.”

And with her words of endearment, she left Malfoy there. He had no idea that she had just insulted him.

I'm thinking about re-writing this chp. but if it's fine, leave a review. I'm going to speed up the romance a lot so expect some more in a chp or so.

Chapter 4: The Revealing of Snape and Prologue to the Wedding
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I can’t remember which writer/reader asked me this, but they asked me if I’m German. Um…No, I’m not actually, I’m a mix between Japanese, Native American and African-American. Weird, I know, but I just wanted to answer that question. Next, I’m going to make the romance occur more naturally, as suggested by vanameren and possibly add a part where Ron ends up as the child or Dean, offered by Tonksz_patronus. If you think I should add a part where Dean or Ron changes into a child, leave a review with a vote. But feel free to drop off any ideasor suggestions of your own!The next chapter contains the Marriage part of the project, for those who want to know. Thank you soooooooooo much for all the reviews and I’ll try replying and updating as soon and as much as I can. I have half of the other chapter done already, so look for another installment soon!



DISCLAIMER-The idea of the baby project came to me by a friend of mine who read IcyPanther's story on Please go check out her story. I would like to attribute some of the ideas to her.

The Revealing of Snape and Prologue to the Wedding

Hermione awoke in her room with a groan. Sunlight streamed into her room through the panes of the French doors. She put her hand to her head, trying to remember what happened last night. Malfoy…sleep…nightlight…shower….


Leaping out of bed, Hermione grabbed a clean uniform from her trunk and dashed out of her door. The ‘house’ was empty and silent. She crept past Blaise’s door, but couldn’t help herself when she passed. She cracked his door slightly, taking in his small sleeping form with a small smile. He was clutching what looked to be an old teddy bear. Hermione reminded herself to get him a new one as she made her way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was quite lovely. It was rather large, with Mexican tile on the floor. There were two sinks and a little stool, obviously for Blaise, between them. A shower stood separate from the large bathtub, which also served as a Jacuzzi. She noticed that all of her things were already by her sink, organized in the lower drawers.

The ceiling was enchanted to look like a forest canopy, with sunlight streaming in between the branches. She set down her uniform on the long counter that held the sinks, grabbing numerous bottles of soap and shampoo on the way. Glancing at her watch, which she had taken off, she realized that she had time to actually relax in the tub. Hermione turned on the jets and the water, sliding into the bath. She sighed with pleasure as the hot water cleansed her body and relaxed her tense muscles. Hermione was about to wash her hair when she heard something like a yell and then a squeal emit from the hallway out side of the bathroom. She had no time to react as something unexpected happened.

Blaise burst through the door.

With Malfoy behind him.

Holding a bar of soap.

The soap dropped to the tile floor as his molten silver eyes rested on the naked Hermione in the tub, although she was pretty much covered with bubbles from the jets. Blaise seemed frozen for a moment before going to run behind Draco, obviously disgusted at seeing his ‘mother’ naked.

“What the hell are you doing in here?!” Hermione screeched after her mind gained comprehension of what happened.

Malfoy stayed rooted to the spot.

“Get out!” she yelled, her cheeks tinting a deep red as her embarrassment grew.

Hermione reached for the nearest thing near her. Her shampoo. And then she threw it at him. The jar hit him in his leg and he seemed jolted out of his reverie. She then threw all of her conditioner and soap, anything she could reach, at Malfoy, yelling at him to stop staring.

“I’m sorry,” he said loudly, trying to get her to hear him over her screaming. “But it’s not my fault that I wish to see my wife’s assets.”

Hermione stopped for a moment and looked at him incredulously, before reaching for her robes that lay on the floor. She pulled out her wand and shot a hex at Malfoy, missing and shattering the wood on one side of the door.

“Get out, you pervert! And don’t let Blaise see me like this!” she added as she saw the little boy peek out from Malfoy’s legs to see what was going on. “Now!”

Malfoy quickly shut the bathroom door, pulling Blaise with him as Hermione shot another curse his way.

“Hurry up, woman!” he shouted from the other side of the door. He doubted that she heard him with all the noise she was making. “I need to bathe him or else we’ll be late.”

A muffled scream was his reply as another bottle of something hit the door with a thud. Smirking, Malfoy went to Blaise’s room to pick out his clothes for the day.

“You’re lucky you didn’t see anything, you perverted freak,” Hermione hissed at him, as they were about to leave the ‘house’ for Double Potions. “Or Blaise for that matter. Do you know how much that may have scarred him?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Well it didn’t scar him. He’s back to normal. And I already apologized and I won’t repeat it. It’s not like I wanted to see a mudblood naked, Granger.”

Hermione cringed at the reference to her blood and spat back. “Well that’s not enough, Malfoy. You know, there’s such a thing as knocking…you should try it out some time.”

Hermione diverted her gaze from the smug face of Malfoy to Blaise who was trying to catch a toy that was zooming around his head in circles.

“What in the hell did you dress him in, Malfoy?” Hermione asked incredulously.

Blaise was dressed in a black shirt with his pajama bottoms still on. Hermione had figured that all of Blaise’s clothing would’ve be transferred to his room and minimized to fit his now six year old body.

“It’s not my fault that he has no clothing,” Malfoy snapped at her irritably.

Hermione scowled at him. “Well considering your immaculate sense of style, Malfoy, I would’ve thought that you would’ve found something sensible for Blaise to wear.”

“Unless your mother still dresses you,” Hermione leered after a moment, looking over Malfoy’s outfit.

“I can assure you that I dress myself, you prude,” Malfoy sneered back. “But I’m telling you that that’s all he had-”

A loud pop come from the coffee table, making Hermione jump with surprise. A bag, about the size an apple, appeared on the table. Malfoy picked it up and gingerly shook it. A jingling sound was emitted from the insides of the canvas.

“Dumbledore sent us money?” Hermione asked in disbelief, looking at the sack in Malfoy’s hands.

A note then appeared in midair, floating towards the ground, and Hermione snatched it.

“There have been complications regarding Blaise’s clothing,” she began. “This should be enough to buy him clothes in Hogsmeade. You can do so on the trip this weekend. I bid you good day and good luck! Sincerely, Dumbledore.”

“Complications?” Malfoy asked, confused. “How in Merlin’s name can there be complications in shrinking his clothes?”

Hermione shrugged. “Maybe he put some sort of charm on them to stop other people from wearing them. Like I do with my wand.”

The bell in the tower went off, signaling the end of breakfast and the time to start to going to their first class.

“We have Double Potions,” Malfoy stated, adjusting his bulging backpack on his shoulder.

“Yea,” Hermione said absentmindedly, glancing at the six year old. “How are we going to keep him quiet?”

Blaise, at that moment, let out a loud shriek as his toy dragon dove for the little boy’s head, singeing (yes that is the correct sp, I assure you) the ends of his hair with it’s fiery breath. Hermione quickly grabbed the toy and whispered the spell to de-activate it. Blaise groaned with disappointment and pouted for a moment before his eyes lit up, obviously with a question.

“Mum,” he asked her apprehensively. “What’s sex?”

“Where in hell’s vagina did you hear that Blaise?” Hermione questioned, clapping a hand over her mouth when she realized she’d said vagina…rather ironic considering the question he‘d just asked her.

“Well,” he began, playing with his fingers in his lap. “I sat with Daddy this morning and this man, with one thick eyebrow was talking about something called ‘sex’. What is it?”

Hermione, her face completely red with anger and frustration, turned towards Malfoy. “Those apes you call friends were talking about this around him?!”

“No, we weren’t even by Goyle or Crabbe, I swear,” Malfoy said quickly, defending himself as best he could from her wrath. “He must’ve overheard it!”

“Well what is it?” Blaise piped up from beside Malfoy, obviously irritated at being ignored.

Hermione threw a disgusted glare at Malfoy before kneeling down on one knee to explain the subject to the little boy.

“I …ah… see, when two people like each other, sometimes a lot, they sleep in the same bed. Usually, they're what me and daddy”

Blaise smiled. “Like you and Daddy do!”

Malfoy was about to object rudely when he stopped himself.

Hermione’s cheeks were now scarlet and she clenched her teeth at Blaise’s words. “Sure, Blaise. But it’s something you shouldn’t really know about now….it’s sort of for people who are adults.”

Blaise looked confused and opened his mouth to ask another question.

"Well what happens?"

Hermione sat back on the balls of her feat and placed her head in her hands, allowing Malfoy to take over from the conversation.

“This is all your fault!” she snarled at Malfoy before he started to explain ‘sex’ to Blaise.

He paused, trying to found a way to phrase his statement. “ See, it happens between people who like each other in a way. See, ‘sex’ is how babies are sometimes made-”

“Like me!” the little boy put in.

Malfoy smiled weakly before continuing. “Like you. But people who have sex like each other as more than friends. Either that, or they‘re drunk.”

“So they “like like” the other person?” Blaise asked. “Like you and mummy?”

“If that’s the way you want to put it, yes,” Malfoy said, turning pink from embarrassment.

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently before sweeping in and taking Blaise’s hand in her own. She quickly ushered them out the door, grabbing her own as they walked out.

“That’s enough talk about sex, now,” she said as the portrait of Venarion closed behind them.

“I remember those days,” Venarion said, looking off dreamily. “When I was actually alive you know. There was the Romanian woman named R-”

“You know that’s great,” Hermione said to the painting, looking down at her watch. “But we really have to get going. We have to catch Potions.”

“Fine” the oil brushed chess player answered back snarkily. “But if I just happen to be gone from my frame when you get back, don’t go complaining.”

Time seemed to blur as the three rushed down to the dungeons, insistent on getting to Snape’s class on time. When they reached his classroom door, they were relieved to see the heavy piece of wood still open. Some of the class was already there, unpacking books, quills, ink bottles, and cauldrons.

Terry Boot was at a table, ruffling his long brown hair with one hand and trying to maintain a grip on Millicent so she wouldn’t run off to look at pickled frogs in a jar by their desk. Obviously, Susan had a different class. Dean was there, but Ron had taken the little Lavender.

Hermione choose a table near the center of the classroom, conjuring up a comfortable third chair for Blaise to sit in. He climbed in it and rested happily between Hermione and Malfoy who were trying to unpack. She was yelling at him quietly since Blaise was distracted with some of his toys they had brought

“I cannot believe that you let him hear something like that,” she shot at him, her tone still livid. “And you had the nerve to talk about my friends!”

“I told you already, he must’ve overheard it. Besides, he needs to know about it sooner or later.”

“And you don’t think that six is too young?”

“No,” Malfoy said. “I knew about it when I was six and look at me now. A Shag- God.”

She rolled her eyes and he threw her a strange look.

“You really don’t know what you’re missing with me,” he added, smiling devishly at a Ravenclaw girl who was staring at him.

“I don’t know Malfoy. Gonorrhea? Wait, no no! Syphilis? Am I right?”

“Oh no, none of those….I’m clean.”

Hermione let out a frustrated cry that died as soon as it left her mouth. “You’re truly impossible. But I swear if he hears another thing, like this, I’ll castrate you and all of your little Slytherin buddies.”

Malfoy looked highly alarmed. “Now there’s no need for that-”

“Do you know what kind of effect that can have on him?” Hermione asked, angrily, grabbing parchment from her back and putting it on the table.

“Well if you hadn’t given him that incredibly poor excuse, crap of an explanation, he wouldn’t have been so confused.”

“Oh please Malfoy,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Her voice changed to a somewhat informative tone, although it was weeping with sarcasm. “You know, it’s otherwise known as a ‘roll in the hay’, the 'four legged monster, 'the snake in the grass' or a ‘shag’, Blaise, but don’t say that because it’s bad. But what happens is that a man, who has a penis, puts it in a girl, who has a vagina, and then activities that occur give them both pleasure.”

“That would’ve sufficed quite nicely,” Malfoy answered haughtily, smirking at her. “I thought it was hot though, coming from your mouth, mudblood-”

“Shut up, you pig,” Hermione spat.

He was starting to infuriate her to the point that she wanted to strangle him. She eyed him warily as she set their cauldron on the table and watched Blaise squeal in delight.

“I never got a cauldron,” he protested, frowning as he thought back. “You wouldn’t let me get one.”

“What?” Malfoy asked. He was too busy staring off into space.

Blaise‘s frown deepened. “ You don’t remember? Mum was going to get it, but you wouldn’t let her. It was one of the ones in the toy store we saw at the beach last year. You mix all that stuff to make candy.”

Malfoy sat down before answering. “You don’t need candy, little one. You’re hyper enough.”

Hermione ignored the blonde and laid a hand on Blaise’s shoulder, causing the little boy to look up at her.

“I need you to promise me something, Blaise.”


“I need you to be quiet the whole time we’re here okay? If you’re not, me and,” Hermione cringed, “daddy may get into some trouble.”

Blaise nodded eagerly. “Is it a game?”

“Oh, yes!” Hermione answered. “You must stay quiet until I tell you to speak and then you get a surprise!”

He nodded and zipped his lips shut with his fingers. She smiled down at him, but tensed as she heard the dungeon door open and slam shut.

And there was Professor Snape, in his billowing black robes, rooting fear into his seventh year students once more. Hermione heard Millicent giggle and make a comment about the professor’s large nose and dark appearance.

“Shush, Millie,” Terry whispered to her frantically as Snape’s dark eyes roamed the class for the person who interrupted his ‘entrance’.

That’s when something so unexpected happened, that Hermione almost fell out of her seat.

Blaise, her little six year old Blaise, let out a shriek of happiness before jumping out of his seat and weaving through the tables to Snape. He jumped on the professor, clutching him around his stomach.

“Uncle Sev!” he cried out, clinging to Snape’s robes.

The whole class was shocked into silence as they watched Snape’s pale face redden with embarrassment.

“What the hell?” Hermione said out loud. “Uncle Sev?”

“He’s Blaise’s and my godfather,” Malfoy whispered to her out of the side of his mouth. “We call him Uncle Severus, but when we were younger, we called him Sev.”

She thought about it for a moment but then something popped into her head. “Why does he remember Snape when he should only remember what we supposedly did with him in the past?”

“Dumbledore…” Malfoy said quietly, a small smile sidling onto his face. Yes, the old fool had obviously left some memories of the Potions Master in Blaise on purpose to humiliate the professor.

Hermione grinned.

“I missed you Uncle Sev,” Blaise told Snape loudly, still hugging him around his middle. He glanced up at the professor’s face “Mummy says that your nose is too large but I think it’s cool.”

Hermione’s cheeks turned red as Snape’s accusing eyes landed on her.

“Does she now?” Snape asked through thin lips, obviously trying to restrain his livid anger. “Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“For what?!” Dean protested irately.

“For breathing too loudly,” Snape snapped back, now reluctantly placing a long arm around the small boy.

Hermione smiled at the image and slid her camera from her robe, taking a picture of Snape hugging Blaise and quickly returning it to her pocket. A smirk played onto her face as she thought about the reaction she’d get from the professor when she and Malfoy turned the damned project in.

“What the hell are you smirking at?” Malfoy asked, his voice snarling, as Snape gently told Blaise to return to his seat.

“That vile piece of flesh you call a face,” she answered back tartly. Hermione smiled down at Blaise as he slid into his cushioned chair, waving at Snape.

“You really shouldn’t talk about yourself that way, Granger,” Malfoy retorted, caustically. “I mean, you don’t have to announce it to everyone.”

Hermione was about to snap back at him when Snape cleared his throat loudly, glowering at the class, all of whom were trying to contain their sniggers. The professor fixed his robes, his pale skin still tinged with scarlet. He taped the blackboard with his wand.

“Get started,” he snarled.

“Hello Hermione,” a dark skinned girl said to her before sitting down at the Gryffindor table. She had a strangely deep voice.

They were at lunch.

Hermione studied the girl, noting that she had never seen her before. Her skin was the color of polished chestnut and she had large, brown almond shaped eyes. Her dark hair was long, almost reaching her waist. She looked to be about seventeen which meant that she was either in her year or Ginny’s year.

“Um, are you new?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

Harry, Ron, Neville, Parvati, and Ginny all sat down, Rachel, Seamus, and Lavender bouncing on their laps before the girl answered.

“It’s me,” she said, giving Hermione a strange look. “Really this has happened before…you should recognize me!”

Ginny had a knowing grin on her face before she turned her attention back to her sandwich, trying to avoid anyone’s eyes. Hermione, however, caught the look and her face changed with understanding.

Dean?“she asked incredulously. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Parvati looked up in surprise.

Dean nodded. “Ginny,” he started, throwing a nasty glare at the blushing red-head. “ got upset because I mentioned the accident that happened when she was younger which Ron told us about. Apparently she saw the need for a visit to past experiences.”

Harry sniggered as Parvati collapsed into giggles. Ron, however, didn’t look the least bit amused.

“Do you know what this’ll do to her?!” he asked, motioning towards the little girl in his lap who was playing with Seamus’s hair. “She already has two dads, if that isn’t confusing enough for Merlin’s sake, and now-”

His voice was getting a louder by the second. “Ron, calm down,” Hermione tried, resting a hand on his forearm. “It’s not that bad-”

“-on top of having two fathers where we don’t have a vagina, may I remind you, her other dad turns into a woman every other day!”

“I think it’s funny,” Harry quietly admitted, quickly turning back to his food as Ron turned his angry eyes on the brunette boy.

“Well look at the bright side Ron,” Hermione said, a grin inbred with a smirk tugging at her lips. “At least you won’t have to marry a man today.”

Neville, Parvati, Ginny, and Harry laughed silently at this when Dean looked up at her, a question on his face.

“If I still like girls, Hermione, does that make me a lesbian?”

Chapter 5: The Marriage and the Accident
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Sorry about the long wait...I was having a little trouble with this chapter. I didn't know how I wanted it to end. The next chapter gets a little serious, since some have said that a more mature element would be nice. So here is the epic to it, but don't worry, the humor and romance returns, as always.


DISCLAIMER-The idea of the baby project came to me by a friend of mine who read IcyPanther's story on Please go check out her story. I would like to attribute some of the ideas to her.

The Marriage and the Accident

Hermione fiddled nervously with her white gown, the beautiful robe that made the union seem so real. It was a bodice dress with a bell like bottom, embroidered with tiny shimmering beads that reflected the light. Ginny had insisted that she wear her hair down, so her auburn hair was against her bare back. Hermione was surprised when she learned that Professor Sinistra was letting the her use her old wedding gown. It was rather ridiculous, considering that the project was FAR from temporary and didn’t even begin to actually resemble a real marriage, commitment wise.

But Dumbledore had insisted it being as real as possible so the child wouldn’t be distressed., although that was also a rather poor excuse. It’s not like the children suffer permanent damage if their ‘parents’ who weren’t really their parents didn’t have the perfect wedding.

So Harry was walking her down the aisle, because if Ron was giving her away, he’d surely shoot down Malfoy and obliviate Hermione, and Parvati was a brides maid while Ron was the best man, despite how reluctant Malfoy was to have him. The people who were in the wedding had to be getting ‘married’ themselves, because it would cause no extra preparation, clothing wise. They were all dressed.

Harry came up beside her and grinned. “You two are the firsts to be joined, Mione. Ready?

“I guess,” Hermione said, shrugging. “It’s not like it’s real.”

“Wait until you see the hall,” Harry told her. He took her arm in his own.

Suddenly, an eccentric version of “Here Comes the Bride” began to play on the organ and the large doors opened. Hermione was almost blinded by the white decorations. There were white streamers crossing from each side of the hall, a long white carpet leading to the alter, sided by white chairs on either side. Doves flew around the air and people were looking up at them nervously, hoping that if they had to go, the droppings wouldn’t land on them.

Hermione’s eyes landed on the two shocks of black waiting at the alter, one Ron and the other Malfoy.

Slowly, all of Hogwarts, still in their school uniforms, turned to look at her and Harry, who were now beginning to walk down the carpet. Her eyes caught Ginny, who smiled devishly at her. She nodded towards another figure in white to her left. It was Dean, who looked rather nauseous, in a wedding gown. She guessed they decided to do it after all.

Hermione focused on a rather amused looking Dumbledore and a livid Ron as she finally came up to the alter. Malfoy’s eyes were glued to her and she spared an annoyed glance his way. He seemed to shake out of it, like he had that same morning, sneering at her and then turning towards the Head Master.

“…in the name of Hogwarts ‘Parents of the Future’ program, do you, Hermione Granger, take thee Draco Malfoy as your husband?”

Hermione rolled her eyes before mumbling, “Fine.”

“And do you, Draco Malfoy, take Hermione Granger as your wife?”

He paused before answering with an almost incoherent ‘yes’.

“Good, because if you had not, you would’ve failed. To the student body of Hogwarts, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Draco Damien Malfoy!”

Hermione cringed as she heard it, biting her lip as thunderous applause broke out and rumbled throughout the hall. Dumbledore motioned for them to sit down in the front row, where the rest of the people participating in the project sat. Ginny, who was holding Blaise, let him go and he ran to them, jumping on Hermione and then cuddling into her shoulder as they sat down. She stroked his hair absentmindedly.

Next was Harry and Pansy, who were interrupted by Seamus screaming out about the wed nargles that doomed weddings. All eyes turned to Luna, who shrugged nonchalantly before playing with her onion earrings. Ron was his best man and Parvati was her brides maid. Draco, as green as he was about the fact that he had to stand so close to Pansy, gave her away.

Parvati and Neville went next. Theirs was the only ‘wedding’ that contained their ‘child’ because Rachel had insisted on being the flower girl. Hermione was the brides maid and Harry was the best man, and Ron gave Parvati away.

Terry and Hannah were married next, Hermione their brides maid, Ron the best man, and Neville giving Hannah away.

Last was Ron and Dean. Although Dean was a woman, for that day at least, it was still awkward. Neville gave him away and Hermione, once more, was the brides maid, while Harry was the best man. Ron had grown increasingly red while looking into the face of his mate Dean, who was at the moment, a girl.

“I now pronounce to you Mr. and ah…Mr. Dean Henry Thomas!”

Lavender clapped loudly, standing on one of the chairs before nearly toppling over into a group of sixth year students. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore set everything back as it was supposed to be, gone were the white decorations, chairs, replaced by the long tables and house flags. Everyone’s clothing went back to normal and Hermione groaned, arching her back. She had fell when he magicked the chairs away.

“It’s our hour and a half off,” Harry told her, instinctively catching Seamus by his wrist when the little boy tried to follow Luna out of the Great Hall.

Hermione glanced at the doors that most of the students were trudging through. Those who were in Mrs. Weasley’s class were the only ones who remained in the Great Hall.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Ron asked.

She shrugged. “Your mum said to use the time to get to know the child and your partner.” She shivered involuntarily when she thought of Malfoy. “Not that I particularly want to.

“What are we supposed to do with them?” Harry hissed, a nodding Neville and Parvati behind him. “I mean, you and I despise our partners and Ron is stuck in a homosexual relationship, not to mention the fact that since we’re their ‘parents’ , we should already know things about them.”

“I don’t know Harry,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “Take them back to the house and play games, read them a book, talk a walk…”

“Like I could enjoy any of those with bloody Parkinson,” Harry mumbled.

“Neither can I,” Hermione said to him, watching Malfoy from the corner of her eye. “But it’s sort of a necessity for the project. It’s only the second day. If we can’t make this work, the next month and a half is going to be hell.”

Harry sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing them with his sleeve, signaling that he was nervous, angry, or amused. “Fine.”

Hermione gave the group a small, grim smile, before coaxing Blaise over to her. He’d been playing tag with Lavender, Seamus, Rachel and Millicent, but unfortunately, they felt the need to throw fruit at one another as a substitution for hands. She wiped small bits of apple from his face with the hem of her shirt and watched Lavender, who was covered in the sticky juice of an orange, skipped over to Dean and Ron.

“How do you feel about going home and spending time with me and Mal- daddy, Blaise?” Hermione asked, combing his hair through with her open fingers.

He smiled widely before taking her hand in his own. “I’d like that mummy. But can I play with the other kids later?”

“Most likely,” she answered. She knew Ron and Dean would have no problem with it, and neither would Terry or Susan. But Neville would be hesitant to let Rachel near any of the other kids since she had bitten Seamus earlier on for getting near her crayons and Pansy would most likely have a fit if Seamus got hurt again. “We’ll have to see.”

Hermione and Blaise began to walk out the hall when the six year old stopped her, a small, almost invisible frown on his face.

“Yes, Blaise?”

“What about daddy?”

She glanced over her shoulder and groaned. “Yes, I almost forgot about him…” the arrogant prick

“Cover your ears, sweetie,” Hermione told, which he obeyed immediately. She lot go of Blaise’s hand to step into the Great Hall’s doorway, before yelling out, rather rudely, “Malfoy, get your arsehole here now and spend time with Blaise before I make sure that you won’t be able to produce any more inbred Malfoy spawn.!”

The other eight parents and the other four children went silent when they heard her choice of words. Quickly, they bent down to tell the six year olds not to repeat what she had just said, before throwing sarcastic, “Thanks, Hermione” s her way. She smiled sheepishly and apologized, before glaring at Malfoy.

He scowled darkly at her as he made his way over to them, taking Blaise’s hand into his own. Hermione could see him visibly stiffen. Obviously he wasn’t used to forms of intimate physical contact, other than shagging.

“What’s an arsehole?” Lavender asked Ron carefully, holding onto one of his and Dean’s hands.

Ron’s ears turned burgundy. “Er…it’s where people ah…do number two from.”

“Oh!” Lavender said. “A butt. Is that where your vagina is, daddy number one?”

“No, I have the vagina, Lavender,” Dean spoke up from beside the red head, his dark cheeks now scarlet.

She nodded and played with one of her pigtails as they left the Great Hall.

“For today,” Ron added under his breath.

“What are we supposed to be doing?” Malfoy snarled at her.

It was not a good day.

Hermione had just embarrassed him in front of her little groupies just for the hell of it.

And when they came back to the house, Venarion was gone, just as he promised, making out with some Russian Roulette in a portrait on the sixth floor. Hermione had found a way to get into their rooms, gods knows how, and now the three of them were sitting in the living room. Hermione and Malfoy were on opposite sounds of the large couch, either glaring at each other or looking at Blaise who was playing on the floor, making fortresses with blocks that resembled Legos.

“We’re supposed to be spending time to get to know one another,” Hermione answered back matter-of-factly. “If you had pulled your huge head, and ego, out of your arse, and listened, you would’ve heard Mrs. - Professor Rye tell us about it.”

“Your language has been a bit dirty, Granger,” Malfoy told her, smirking. “But as I say, the mouth to match the blood.”

Hermione was about ready to pounce on Malfoy and smash his face in, when Blaise turned around.

“I want to do something.”

Hermione glanced down at her watch. “Well we have an hour and fifteen minutes left. We could take a walk by the lake…” Malfoy made a face and she ignored him. “ or play games here. Anything you want to do”

Blaise thought for a second before grinning mischievously at the two. “I want to fly.”

What?,” Hermione asked incredulously.

“I want to fly mummy,” Blaise repeated. “Daddy took you once, but he never really took me.”

“You must be mistaken because I would never get on a broom and trust this prick…I mean the stick broom thing with my life.”

“But you did!” the little boy protested. “And you said we could do anything I want!”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped in defeat and turned to direct her question at the blonde man beside her. “Fine. But is the Quidditch pitch clear?”

Malfoy nodded. “It is. Practice doesn’t start for another two weeks.”

“I’m not so sure,” Hermione said, eying the little boy warily. “You could fall and hurt yourself.”

“He could hurt himself sitting here and listening to you,” Malfoy said under his breath, idly playing with a loose thread on the couch.

Her head snapped up, meeting his gaze with an angry stare. “What was that?”

“Oh, come off it. I’m a skilled flyer,” Malfoy boasted. Hermione snorted. “ He can ride with me. We’ll be fine.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Hermione snapped, standing up. She slipped off her school robes, revealing her school uniform. She rolled up her sleeves and loosened her tie.

They both gave her strange looks, Malfoy thinking that she was about to jump on him and strangle him to death. She noticed their stares, obviously directed at her bit of unusual behavior

“What? It may be warm out,” she answered smartly, opening the portrait. Hermione turned back around when she realized that they weren’t following. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I swear Malfoy, if there’s one scratch on him, I’ll have your head on a rotting stick,” Hermione told him, rather calmly as they stepped out onto the Quidditch Pitch.

“Are you only concerned about your grade, Granger?” Malfoy asked, quirking a slim silver eyebrow at her. “That’s low even for you.”

“I should be asking you the same question,” Hermione shot back, her liquid amber eyes flashing. “And if you most know, I do care for Blaise, deeply. Unlike you, Malfoy, I am capable of having human compassion for someone other than myself.”

They were silent for a while, watching as Blaise rolled around in the grass. Hermione sighed and played with a dandelion that erupted from the soil by her leg..

“Why is it that whenever we go somewhere, we argue?” she asked, more to herself than to him.

“If you kept your bloody mouth shut, we wouldn’t have the damn problem,” Malfoy answered shortly, picking up his broom from the ground and standing up. Hermione raised onto her legs.

“Malfoy, I’m serious,” Hermione started, halting him by stepping in his path. “Don’t let anything happen to Blaise.”

The blonde studied her for a moment, his molten silver gaze searching hers for some sort of farce. What the lie would be about, Hermione wasn’t sure herself.

“I won’t. Can’t you shut up and trust me?”

The sincerity in his voice halted her.

“Fine,” Hermione snapped, finally giving in.” But my threat is not an inactive one. I swear that if he’s hurt, it’ll be a promise.”

He either ignored her or didn’t hear because he merely approached Blaise, who was fuming with excitement and helped him onto his broom. The little boy turned around and the piece of wood and waved at her, smiling widely, dimples and all. Hermione grinned and waved back. Malfoy smiled down fondly at Blaise, telling him to hold on tight and not to let go.

Hermione’s breath caught with fear when Malfoy kicked off from the ground, bracing his lean body against the broom, while holding Blaise securely around his waist. Blaise squealed with delight as the rush of cool air hit him in the face. He looked down to see Hermione, the hem of her skirt in her wringing hands, looking worried. She waved at him weakly.

“I told you everything would be fine,” Malfoy yelled down to her pompously, looping in the air as Blaise yelled with glee. Hermione jumped. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

She scowled up at him before bending down to get her camera from her robe pocket. Snappping a few pictures of Malfoy flying with Blaise, Hermione sat down on the warm grass and watched them swerve in the air.

Hermione vaguely heard Malfoy scream her name and Blaise cry out “mommy” before something hard, large, and dark barreled into her.

Chapter 6: What Happened and the Introduction to the Nightwalker
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DISCLAIMER-The idea of the baby project came to me by a friend of mine who read IcyPanther's story on Please go check out her story. I would like to attribute some of the ideas to her.

What Happened and the Introduction to the Nightwalker

Hermione woke from unconsciousness to hear voices pitched low and whispering around her. There was a dull ache at the back of her head and her knee, not to mention that her lips tasted slightly salty, as if she had a cut, when she reached out her tongue to lick them. The next thing that she was aware of was a body lying next to hers, which her arm was wrapped around. It was warm and she wasn’t willing to let go.

“Urgghhh,” Hermione moaned as she opened her eyes. The light flooded them before she could make out who was standing beside her bed. Or rather, which house was standing beside her bed.

All of the Gryffindors from her year, including most children from the project, where clustered around her bed, whispering amongst themselves, or setting flowers, cards, or candy on the already overflowing table beside the bed. Madame Pomfrey’s voice, floated through the air, scolding Hermione’s fellow classmates for standing too close to her and disrupting her breathing space. Hermione grumbled a bit more, exploring her cut lip with her tongue before somebody noticed that she was awake.

“Mommy, you’re awake!”

Hermione’s eyes turned to the body beside her, which had belonged to Blaise. His black hair was rumpled but his indigo eyes were bright with excitement and happiness. She managed to sit up before he hugged her, wincing when she felt a dull pain in her left arm. A flash went off and Hermione looked over to her right. It was Malfoy, who had just taken a picture, smirking cheekily.

“Malfoy?” she asked, her voice slightly hoarse. She sat up slowly, holding a hand to her throbbing head. “What in Merlin’s balls are you doing here?” Fortunately, Blaise was paying too much attention trying to get everyone else to notice that she was up, to listen to what she had just said.

“I had too,” he answered haughtily, sneering at her. “I very well couldn’t leave him down here alone with those clumps of soil you call friends.”

Hermione glared at him before she was suddenly bombarded with hugs from Harry, Ron, Ginny, and many others. She managed to push them away before putting a hand to her face. She felt a very small cut on her hairline, above her ear, and another one at the nape of her neck.

“What happened?” she asked, her eyes raising to meet Ron’s hazel gaze. He opened his mouth to speak but Malfoy beat him to it.

“You were attacked,” he answered smoothly, reaching over to pull Blaise from her legs. The little boy had been hugging her rather tightly and it was starting to hurt her.

“By something big and scary with teeth!” Blaise put in, before, burying his head in her shoulder. She felt tears wet her skin and looked up at the blonde questioningly.

“Big and scary with teeth?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“A werewolf,” Harry told her, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her hand in his own. “We were so worried when we heard.”

A chorus of agreements wafted from the small crowd around her bed.

“A werewolf?” Hermione said incredulously. “What in Circe’s name was a werewolf doing on Hogwarts grounds?”

“Dumbledore says it was in the forest,” Neville put in, holding onto the hand of Rachel as she tried to open a singing card. “It was obviously watching you. He says that-”

Neville was cut off by a glare from Harry, obviously a warning for him to shut his mouth. The other young man complied, blushing as he did so.

“How did I get here?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “How do you think, Gra- Hermione? I carried you. And it wasn’t easy either with Blaise crying over you and latching onto my leg.”

Hermione looked worried. “And the werewolf?”

“Stunned,” responded Ron. “Malfoy did it. Dumbledore is questioning it now. It was a Dea-”

Another kick from Harry under the bed and Ron promptly quieted. Ginny was next to speak, her blue eyes filling with tears. Hermione’s younger friend had always been sensitive, especially after the attack on Arthur back in fifth year.

“You should’ve seen Malfoy,” Ginny whispered in her ear, as they watched the three boys bicker. “He was all bloody and looked like he was delirious. He looked….worried. The prat wouldn’t let anyone come near you for the first day.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the redhead’s comment, watching Malfoy argue with her friends. But then something Ginny had said, dawned on her.

“The first day?” Hermione asked, looking confused. “How many days have I been out?”


Sitting up in bed, Hermione listened as Harry and Ron proceeded to tell her what happened in her absence. It seemed as if her attack had the whole school worried, half about her and half about themselves. Twelve first years had been withdrawn from Hogwarts, their parents claiming that if a werewolf could attack a student, Merlin knew what else could happen.

“So what work have I missed?” Hermione asked somewhat eagerly, taking a large bite from a platter of sandwiches that Professor McGonagall had brought down for her.

“Nothing really,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair. “Well almost. Snape has still assigned homework, but you really had a lot of people upset Hermione. The three days were just review and there was no homework. Everyone‘s has been worried about you, but now that you‘re awake, its Hogsmeade that has everybody talking.”

Hermione frowned at this, disappointed that she had held up other people’s education. Despite her displeasure, she knew that most of the student probably silently thanked her for releasing them from work.

“So what is this, about the werewolf?” questioned Hermione.

A serious look slid onto Ron’s handsome face before he spoke. “Dumbledore says it was Voldemort. The werewolf, in his human state, was actually a Deatheater. We fought him at the ministry two years ago. Antonin Dolohov.”

Hermione gasped. “He willingly became a werewolf?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “You know the Wolfsbane Potion, the one Snape made for Lupin? Well, you know that it pacifies the werewolf in the mind of the human so that they’re fully aware of their actions. Dolohov, apparently, was bitten a few months ago, of his own free will.”

“It would’ve been better if he had stayed in his transformation without the potion,” Hermione mumbled, her face in her hands as she set the sandwiches beside her bed.

Ron looked up at her surprised. “Why? There’s no difference.”

Hermione let out a little laugh. “ Of course there’s a difference, Ron. If he was a werewolf, where the wolf ruled over his humane mind, he’d be going by instinct, too oblivious to his goal to notice anything else. Notice how my wolf call in third year, one that was obviously a farce, worked? They’re not extremely smart when it comes to the prowl. But with the potion, his human intellect is fully intact. Any human in their right mind would recognized that it wasn’t a wolf’s call. They would recognize it as a trap.”

She paused, her eyes changing to a golden hue, the color it slipped to when she was pondering something. “Think of it. A human’s mind, a keen, cunning, intelligent one at that, who can detect traps and dodge spells and use common sense and knowledge in the brutal, deadly body of a werewolf. He has both a wolf’s instinct and a human’s psyche. He’s a killing machine, far more dangerous than any werewolf. And he’d follow Voldemort no matter what.”

“Voldemort probably has already made some of his followers werewolves if he knows about this,” Harry said, the green eyes behind his glasses worried. “Definitely not a good thing.” Ron nodded.

“No,” Hermione agreed softly. “But one thing worries me. How in Merlin’s name was he still in his werewolf form when it was day and the night before hadn’t even been a full moon?”

Later that afternoon, Hermione looked at herself in the mirror as she slipped her vest over her Oxford shirt. Her skin was still a tad pale, but her eyes were burning brightly. Hermione ran a brush through her hair until she got out the few tangles that were in there. Ginny had combed her hair when she had been unconscious. She was leaving the infirmary, which was just as well. The stark, drab white walls were beginning to grate her nerves.

She thanked the kind nurse before taking her leave and making her way down to her rooms on the fourth floor. People either told her how relieved they were that she was okay, or thanked her for the lack of homework she helped with as she walked through the corridors.

“Ms. Granger!” Venarion cried out, his handsome face shining as she approached his portrait. “You’ve had us in quite the state. I daresay it must’ve been terrible for Mr. Malfoy. He was worried you know, and-”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Hermione muttered.

“- that child, Blaise, is that his name? Well he’s been incredibly upset and Mr. Malfoy would have a rather hard time getting him to come from his room.”

Venarion chatted happily about the events that had taken place when she was gone but stopped when he noticed Hermione standing expectantly in front of him.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he apologized, his pale cheeks flushing a light pink as he swung open for her.

“It’s fine. Thank you, Venarion,”

Hermione stepped into the living room only to find something that she thought she’d never see. Her face lit with a bright smile as she looked at the large blue couch.

Malfoy was there, his long limbs sprawled across the back of the couch and armrests, a children’s book dangling from his hands. Blaise was laying on the blonde’s chest. Both of them were sleeping. Hermione dropped her bag on the floor and quickly rummaged through her robes to find her camera. Careful to turn off the flash so she wouldn’t wake them up rudely, Hermione took a couple of pictures of them “cuddling”.

After she was done taking pictures and inevitably ruining Malfoy’s reputation in the process, Hermione gently woke up Blaise, yelping in temporary pain as he threw his arms around her neck and hugged her. She noticed that he was still wearing his same outfit from three days ago and wrinkled her nose. Thank the gods that Hogsmeade was tomorrow.

Malfoy awoke at Blaise’s elated yells and glared at her as he looked at the camera in her hand.

“What were you doing?” he asked, sharply, sitting himself upright on the downy couch.

“Taking pictures,” Hermione shot back. “What were you doing?”

Malfoy paled a little. “Er…Blaise wanted me to read to him. It’s our hour and half off.”

“I missed you so much!” Blaise interrupted, tugging her so she was sitting down in the loveseat. He climbed on with her and settled into her lap.

Hermione smiled at him and began to play with his long hair. “So I was told. I missed you too, Blaise. Very much.”

“Did they catch the dog that made you hurt?” Blaise asked, his eyes watering a little.

“Yes, they did, sweetie,” Hermione answered, placing a tender kiss to the top of his forehead.

“I’m glad it didn’t make you un-pretty,” he said innocently, playing with a button on her robes.

“Why thank you,” Hermione said, laughing. “Would you still love me if I was hideous?”

Blaise seemed to think about it before grinning. “Yes.”

“You better.”

“Daddy was worried too,” Blaise put in after a moment, glancing over to Malfoy. “He was really mad at the dog and stunned him. And he sat by your bed and held your hand and-”

Malfoy widened his eyes at what the little boy said and gritted his teeth. “Now there’s no need to say all of that Blaise. Mommy already knows how much I,” he grimaced. “love her.”

Blaise seemed to ignore him. “Do you want to know what Daddy got me?”

“Sure,” Hermione said, setting Blaise on the floor. He ran into his room and they could hear him searching in his toy box.

Hermione turned to Malfoy, her eyes somewhat angry. “What’s up with your little possessive stunt? Ginny told me that you wouldn’t allow people to see me the first day.”

He flushed a little.

“Blaise,” Malfoy answered simply. He stood and stretched. “He was distressed. He needed to time to spend with you by himself, not with all those dithering idiots pouring over you. As for holding your hand, I had to keep appearances up. He would’ve suspected something if I didn’t seem concerned.”

She didn’t have time to reply because Blaise ran into the living room, carrying something long in his hands. A rather long something, with bristly things on the end.

Something that looked like a broom.

Hermione began to laugh deliriously. “That’s funny, Blaise, because that looks exactly like a broom.”

“It is a broom,” Blaise protested, holding it out for as if to test it herself.

Hermione could see that it was broom from where she was standing but didn’t want to believe it. Sure it was one of the children’s brooms that only hovered eight feet about the ground and could only go in a five foot radius, but it was a broom nonetheless. And not a cheap one. Not even a moderate one. It was a very expensive one, top of the line with silver writing on the finely polished handle and it’s twigs immaculate and trimmed.

“You got him a broom?” Hermione seethed. He knew how uncomfortable brooms made her.

“No,” Malfoy answered. “It used to be mine, My mother sent it, along with a whole bunch of my old toys when she heard about the project.”

“Of course,” Hermione snapped. “The reason why it’s so damn expensive.”

Blaise was trying out the broom in the dining room, oblivious to his “parents” argument.


“Let me guess. You didn’t think to have her send any clothes?” Hermione said coldly, gesturing to Blaise’s outfit with one hand.

Malfoy threw her a look of disgust. “We throw out all of my clothes after I outgrow them. You don’t think that I wear the same clothes after a year of buying them do you?”

Hermione gritted her teeth in annoyance. “So you don’t throw out your toys?”

“Obviously not.”

“But you throw out clothes.”

“Obviously so.”

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, turning her eyes from the arrogant man in front of her.

"Granger?" he said,his tone losing the arrogant drawl that it usually posssesed.


"Blaise's birthday is on Sunday."

“Does anyone know what the nightwalker is?” Professor Rye asked when they had Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Many students looked around confused, while only two, Hermione and Malfoy being them, shifted nervously in their seats. She felt Ron and Harry’s expectant gaze on her and she threw them an annoyed look. She was attacked by a werewolf and had just woken up from possible comatose. Did they really think that she was going to answer questions?

Professor Rye’s golden gaze landed on her and Hermione looked up into eyes that were such much like her own.

“Miss Granger or should I say Mrs. Malfoy?” he asked, his lip curling into a playful smile. “Would you care to tell us about the nightwalker?”

Hermione bit her lip. “Not really, professor.”

“Really?” His eye brow nearly went up into his hair line. “Could you tell us anyway?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered softly, running her fingers through her long hair. Her voice became a tad louder so that other students could hear her. The way they were looking at her made her seem like an oracle, which usually didn’t happen.

“The nightwalker has no other name for no one knows of its origin. It walks at night, hence its name. It lives in remote parts of Romania, although some claim that a path in the Forbidden Forest leads to it. The nightwalker is said to be over twenty feet high and it blends in with the darker colors of the foliage, so much that only one with discreet vision can see it. Not so much as one can feel it. Those who have come back sane claim that they could sense its presence before they could see it, if they could at all.

It has no gender, no mates, no patterns, no absolute distinct lifestyle. It is said that during the day, it takes on the form of a rather large wolf, one with fur so black, it looks blue. The nightwalker feasts on anything it fancies, including humans. It has three eyes and it is because of this that some say that the nightwalker is a god or the god. Those three eyes can see the past, present and future. Or anything that comes in three’s, really. It can see skin, muscle, and bone, death, birth, and the afterlife, heaven, hell, and earth...”

The class was silent before Hermione decided to continue.

“But it’s a myth, a legend. There’s no proof that it actually exists.”

“Well the secret chamber of Slytherin was a “myth” and look what happened with that,” Ron mumbled.

Hermione threw him a little grin before raising her hand.


“But if it is a myth, how do they have so much information on it?”

Professor Rye smiled at her and leaned against his desk, picking up a small globe. He threw it from hand to hand before answering her.

“Everything starts out as a myth, Miss Granger. A woman once said not long ago, if I’m not mistaken, that every legend has a basis of fact.”

Chapter 7: Hogsmeade and the Visiting Viktor
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"My love is like to ice, and I to fire
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire
But harder grows the more I her entreat..."

-Edmund Spenser

Hogsmeade and the Visiting Viktor

Hermione woke up Saturday to the strangest noises. It sounded like yelling, squealing, and the sloshing of water. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that Malfoy had brought one of his hussies into the bathroom.

Grabbing a brush and running it through her hair, Hermione sat up and made her way to her door. She cautiously opened it, expecting to find something chaotic in the living room, but it was still dark. Hermione threw a glance at her alarm clock. It was almost seven in the morning. The light in the bathroom was on…hmmm…

Troubles bathing?

Hermione grinned wickedly and grabbed her camera, walking quietly to the bathroom. The door was slightly open and she was almost splashed with water as she peeked inside.

Malfoy was drenched from head to foot, still in his black pajamas, holding a loofah in one hand and a bar of soap in the other. Water sloshed onto the tiled floor as he scrambled around to regain his footing. Meanwhile, a half clothed Blaise was running around, evading Malfoy’s attempts to grab him and properly bathe him. The little boy was rather quick on his feet.

Hermione snickered as Malfoy turned red in the face from his efforts. He managed to stand and run a couple of steps before he fell back down, suds from the soap covering his pants.

“I swear Blaise, if you don’t come here right now, there’re going to be serious consequences!” Malfoy threatened loudly, still struggling to recover from his fall.

Hermione quickly took pictures of Malfoy running around the bathroom, trying to catch the little black haired boy. She only had a second to move before the door burst fully open and Blaise came running out, Malfoy barreling after him.

“Grab him!” Malfoy snarled at her, sprinting to the other side of the couch where Blaise currently was.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mal-er, Draco.”

“He won’t let me bathe him!” Malfoy protested, a scowl forming on his lips.

“Why not?”

Blaise ran to her, hugging Hermione around her knees as he peeked out at Malfoy. “He doesn’t know how to do my hair, mummy!”

“I brush it!” retorted Malfoy, making his way over to the two of them. Blaise’s grip tightened on her legs.

“And he sometimes gets the soap in my eyes, like he did yesterday before you came back home!”

“You bloody know well why!” Malfoy said, pointing an accusing finger at Blaise. “You won’t sit still!”

Picking up Blaise onto her shoulder, Hermione pushed past Malfoy and walked back to the bathroom. She heard the blond follow her and she sighed with exasperation. Hermione set Blaise down and told him to pick out his favorite bubbles before turning to face Malfoy.

“Why didn’t you just wake me if you were having trouble?” Hermione asked, smiling a bit evilly.

“I was trying to be considerate,” Malfoy snapped back. “You just got out of the infirmary yesterday so I though that you’d need more rest.”

She raised and eyebrow. “So it had nothing to do with your inability to wash a child or your pride?”

“Of course it did,” he snapped back indignantly before turning his mercury eyes on Blaise.

“By the way, Granger, we’re going to dinner tonight, with the rest of the “parents”. Request of Dumbledore in order for us to get along. Wear something decent. I don’t want to embarrassed.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You do a good enough job of that yourself, Malfoy.” She paused. “Where will Blaise be?”

“One of your friends can baby sit him,” Malfoy answered, shrugging. “Get the flirty, dim Weasley chit.”

“Her name is Ginny,” Hermione spat at him. “And she’s not dim…just a little focused on boys right now. Not like you have any right to talk with all the notches on your bed post. Besides, younger students can‘t baby sit.”

He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Hermione was pushing him out of the bathroom, mumbling insults under her breath. Then she slammed the bathroom door in his face.

After breakfast and after Hermione had ran around, pleading with Hannah Abott to baby sit Blaise for the night, she was squashed in a carriage with five other frustrated teenagers and “parents”. The other six (a/n I added another couple) were in the carriage in front of them.

Hermione had enlarged the carriage floor so that the three kids could play with their toy wands and other various objects. The seats, however, had been less cooperative and wouldn’t lengthen. She was now stuffed in between a smug Malfoy and a very annoyed Ron. Harry, Dean (in his male form) and Pansy were sitting on the other side.

Yelling, puffs of smoke, and whining filled the carriage to capacity and Hermione was about to cast a silencing charm on everyone. Harry and Pansy were arguing again and the children were screaming, while Ron was making frantic hand motions, obviously about Quidditch, to Dean. She and Malfoy were the only ones not talking, or not quarreling for that matter.

“My parents are coming soon,” the blond said to Hermione quietly over the din, trying to make conversation. Her eyes widened until she resembled a deer in headlights.

“What?” she shrieked as something exploded on the carriage floor. Seamus had blown up his teddy bear and in turn, lit Lavender‘s long hair on fire. She heard Dean yell something before she continued. “Your muggle hating parents? Please don’t tell me you’re actually serious? ”

“They’re coming. They want to see how we’re doing with the project.”

Hermione made small, incoherent noises before she was able to form a sentence. “But…but why?”

He shrugged nonchalantly and then pulled out something neon green from his robe pocket. Hermione leaned in to see what it was, and when he unfurled it, she gasped.

“This is what else I wanted to talk about…”

“You made flyers for Blaise’s birthday party?” she asked incredulously. “With dancing, half-naked girls on it? That’s ridiculous!”

Malfoy smirked, looking down and admiring the cage dancers. “Well I thought it was a good idea-”

“You obviously weren’t in your right state of mind!” Hermione shot back. “We’re throwing a small party for a six year old, not a rave for a teenager with a sex drive of a rabbit!”

Again, Hermione’s words were drowned out, this time by the screaming of Seamus who was now floating near the carriage ceiling thanks to Lavender. The little girl was quite upset over her hair. This eventually distressed Pansy, who was so overprotective, and started calling Ron and Dean “monsters” and asking “how could they allow such behavior from a girl”. Her words were answered by a yelling retaliation from Dean who said “that she was the pot calling the kettle black” and that “she would’ve reacted the same way if someone had set fire to her hair” which he then called “hideous”.

It all ended in some nasty hexes being thrown, none of which hit their targets, thankfully, and a tearful Pansy, cuddling Seamus, huffing in the corner.

“Somehow I don’t think that you’re parents will be too happy to see me,” Hermione said coldly, fiddling with a lock of her hair that rested on her shoulder. His eyes watched her fingers for a moment before traveling back up to her face.

“They already know about you,” Malfoy admitted.

There was silence between the pair before Hermione spoke.

“We have to buy him presents, you know. For tomorrow.”

“You and your stupid muggle traditions,” he said, watching Blaise on the floor. “Why don’t we just transfigure something? It’s not like he’ll use it for long.”

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. “No. It’s not right.”

“Why not?” Malfoy asked exasperatedly. He really didn’t want to spend any more time with her than he already had to.

“I said no, Malfoy,” Hermione snapped back in a voice he knew signaled finality. “He deserves something real. And aren’t the Malfoys all for the top of the line things? Transfiguring cups into toys doesn’t really fit into that category , does it?”

Malfoy narrowed his gray eyes at her before deciding to ignore her comment completely.

The carriage lurched over a bed of rocks and Hermione glanced over Ron’s shoulder and out of the window. She could see the faint outline of Hogsmeade getting clearer. It was a slightly heavy weight in her lap that made Hermione look up. Blaise had climbed onto her legs and was now laying his head on Malfoy’s chest. He was obviously tired but his violet eyes still rested on them.

Almost instantly, Malfoy slid his hand into Hermione’s. It was just about a second nature whenever Blaise looked at them to hold hands and create strained smiles, just to keep the façade that they got along, although they barely did. They had held hands many times in the past couple of days.

But this time, as Hermione’s smooth skin met the slightly rough skin of Malfoy’s palm, something felt different. Something that definitely shouldn’t have been there, especially between two rivals from two very different worlds.

Hermione later, after their long engagement and life lasting marriage, would describe it as a spark and Draco would jokingly say it was the beginning of his lifelong hell.

At this time, though, at this very moment in this story, where two enemies know naught of the future or the troubles and hardships they would have to go through to be together, they could see nothing but the supposed hate they felt towards each other. Although embarrassment and dislike was still apparent, especially when Hermione pulled away, biting her lip, and when Malfoy looked as though he was going to protest, but slightly blushed a manly blush, they could not deny that they had felt something.

This “thing” wasn’t love, definitely not at that point, but a small feeling of either comfort, want, like, and lust.

And they both could not disagree on one thing that they had felt.

It was the feeling of everything changing.

“We’ll meet you at the Three Broomsticks in two hours,” Harry and Ron said to her in unison, looking down at Neville’s bewitched watch.

Harry, Ron, and Dean had met up with Neville while Terry had managed to escape Susan’s wrath by casting an appearance altering charm on himself. Parvati and Ginny were accompanying Hermione and Malfoy, much to the Slytherin’s dismay and Pansy had left with little Seamus to meet up with her friends at Madame Puddifoot’s.

“Fine,” Hermione answered, allowing herself to be drawn into their hugs. “I’ll be there.”

She held tightly to Blaise’s hand, not wanting him to get lost in the crowds surging through Hogsmeade. The Bulgarian Quidditch team was staying there for a week while they prepared to play a big, but not huge, match against England. Naturally, hoards of girls and die hard fans were stalking the streets with cameras, looking for the members of the Bulgarian team. Hermione had inwardly groaned, hoping not to see Viktor. He had taken things a little badly when she broke up with him last summer and continued to ask her out on dates.

Malfoy was casting glares at the two Gryffindor girls who were whispering excitedly to Hermione, planning out outfits for Blaise and decorations for the party. Hermione noticed, left the two to their planning and approached Malfoy.

“I don’t want you starting any trouble,” Hermione said harshly, her amber eyes flashing. “If you do-”

“Why would I even waste my time talking to them?” Malfoy snarled back. “They’re not worth my precious breath.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yet you waste your time with Crabbe and Goyle who can’t comprehend half of what you’re saying?”

“Those two aren’t much different, giggling over trivial things,” Malfoy shot back, nodding to Ginny and Parvati who were pointing at a dress in a shop window.

“Just say you won’t Malfoy,” Hermione said irritably. She was getting too annoyed to argue.

“Fine,” he said grudgingly, turning his nose up at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and walked back over to Ginny and Parvati, still holding tightly onto Blaise’s hand. She felt the little boy tug her back.

“Yes?” she asked, patiently.

“Are you mad at Daddy?” he asked, his large eyes tearing up.

Hermione sighed with exasperation and walked back over to Malfoy. He looked surprised at first but then realized that Blaise was pulling on his robes. Scowling darkly, he took the other hand of the little boy and the three of them, two linked together by the likes of a child, walked with two giggling girls into the closet clothing shop.

“He has to have this, Hermione!” Ginny told her excitedly, throwing more black and blue shirts into the already overflowing basket.

Hermione who was lugging it around with one hand with trying to hold onto Blaise, winced at the extra weight.

“Can you take him, please?” Hermione asked Malfoy irritably. He raised an eyebrow. “I have to hold this.”

Malfoy swiftly picked up Blaise with one arm, holding him to his chest in a very fatherly manner that Hermione hadn’t expected. Mentally shrugging to herself, Hermione looked down at the clothing that Parvati and Ginny had picked out.

“Why is everything black or blue?” Hermione queried, picking through the clothes

Parvati threw a few more dress robes into her basket. “Because, those are his colors, Hermione,” she answered, as if she was explaining it to a two year old. “Like my Rachel. I dress her in mainly yellows and blues because they go with her eyes.”

Hermione scowled at the black haired witch and hoisted the basket higher up on her arm. Eventually they got to the counter, paid for their things and left. Standing outside, Hermione nudged Ginny to signal to her that they needed to take Blaise.

“Oh yes!” the red head exclaimed, plastering on a wide smile that made everyone else grimace. She leaned in to talk to Blaise, who was still resting comfortably in Malfoy’s arms. “Would you like to come with us, Blaise? Mummy and er…daddy need to go get some personal things.”

Blaise eyed her warily. “Do I have to?” he asked, turning to Hermione. She grinned at him and nodded.

“It won’t be for long,” she promised, kissing him on his cheek.

Malfoy glared at the two girls before reluctantly releasing Blaise to Parvati. Hermione watched the three walk into the crowds before turning to her partner.

“So what do we need?” she asked, glancing around at the surrounding stores.

Malfoy shrugged. “I’m not big on birthdays.”

“Really?” she answered, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” he further explained, walking towards a costume shop across the street. It looked as if the curtains were drawn across the windows. Hermione followed, elbowing many people in the process. “It’s merely the day you were born. It’s not like you did something else other than slide out some woman’s-”

“You know, I‘d like to hear about it, but now is not the time, Malfoy,” Hermione interrupted sarcastically, pushing open the door.

She stopped when she got inside, waiting for the blond to catch up. The shop was rather dark and had a slight musky smell to it. There were rows and shelves filled to the brim with things for parties and balls. A wall of dressing rooms stood on the opposite on the far side of the shop. Malfoy wrinkled his nose at the dust covered racks.

“Well let’s get started,” Hermione said brightly, picking out a stuffed bookshelf.

It was nearly an hour before they left the shop. Hermione and Malfoy had gotten into petty arguments over the decorations. He wanted streamers that had naked girls on them, claiming that “Blaise would remember everything when he turned back and would appreciate it.” Hermione had rolled her eyes and threatened to hex him when he was actually preparing to buy the god forsaken things. They eventually went for a dragon theme, since Blaise had a thing for the winged beasts, and had gotten decorations that exploded into tiny light dragons that flew around the room.

The Three Broomsticks was as crowded as ever as she pushed her way through, holding tightly to Blaise’s hand. They finally reached the table where the “parents” were sitting. Almost everyone was scowling, bouncing smiling children on their knees. Ron brightened when he saw Hermione and quickly brought a chair over for her and Blaise. Malfoy leered at the red head for the absence of a chair and proceeded to stand behind Hermione.

There was awkward silence as Pansy gently rocked a tired Seamus to sleep. The group was getting looks from the customers of the pub, all wondering what Hogwarts students, at the age of seventeen, were doing with children.

“Did you get the things you needed to?” Harry asked her, nodding towards the huge bags in her hand. Hermione nodded, settling back in her seat.

Noticing that everyone else had a drink and that Blaise was probably hungry and thirsty, Hermione got up. “I’m going to go get us something to eat. The little one is probably hungry.”

“Get some more butterbeers!” Neville called out after her, looking around at the empty bottles on the table. “Five…no six more!”

Hermione nodded and deftly maneuvered her way to the counter. She smiled at Madame Rosmerta who was cleaning out mugs.

“How many?” the waitress asked her.

“Seven butterbeers and a plate of chicken fingers, please.”

The older woman smiled and busied herself with the orders and Hermione leaned against the counter.

“ ’ermione?” a slightly rough and deep voice asked from beside her.

She froze. She would recognize the butchering of her name anywhere, although he pronounced it almost correctly.

“Viktor?” she said, turning towards her right.

The Bulgarian seeker was beside her, looker a lot better than he had two years ago. He had grown out his hair and wasn’t as lanky as he was before. It seemed as though his nose had been broken a couple more times because there was a slightly bigger bump at the bridge. He gave her a toothy grin and drew her into a hug.

“I ‘ave missed you very much,” he told her, releasing her from his tight grip.

“I have too.”

Viktor’s smile grew. “ So vhat are you doing here?”

“Er…school trip. We go almost every weekend.”

“As, yes. I ’ave forgotten.”

Hermione nodded. “Your English seems to be getting better.”

“Thanks,” Viktor answered, still grinning. “I ‘af been practicing. I am to be moving here very soon.”

Hermione almost choked on her spittle. He gently slapped her on her back as she looked back up at him “What?”

“I am needing a change from Bulgaria,” he continued, not noticing her reaction. “The ministry has offered me a job. Someving about sports and those things. I am thinking of taking it, but I vant to move here anyways.”

“Why?” Hermione asked stupidly.

“I thought it would be obvious, Herm-oh-ninny,” Viktor answered, staring into her eyes. “I vanted to be closer to you.”

Hermione managed a bright smile. “That’s very nice, Viktor, but I’m sure you don’t need to move her just for me-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted. “You’re very important. I ’ave no one as important as you in Bulgaria, besides my parents who are moving to France anyway.”

“Viktor, I’m flattered. But we’re just friends, I mean, friends live far away all the time.”

“So you do not…vant me here?” he asked, a troubled expression playing onto his dark features.


“No!” Hermione said. “I do, but I don’t want you to leave behind a perfectly good life in Bulgaria for me, who’s just a friend,” she added putting emphasis on her last words, hoping he’d catch the point. She stll wasn’t sure what she felt for Viktor.

“My life is not perfect if you are not in it, Hermy-own,” Viktor told her. “Ve are good, friends, are ve not?

“Of course we are, Viktor.”

“Mummy?” a little voice sounded from beside her, once again.

Viktor’s gaze drew from Hermione’s reddening face to the little raven haired boy in Malfoy’s arms.

“Yes, Blaise?” she answered, not meeting Malfoy’s accusing gaze.

“I’m tired.”

“We’ll be leaving soon,” Hermione said. “But after you eat.”

“He wants chicken,” Malfoy informed her, looking back and forth between her and Viktor, a little scowl playing on his lips. The tall blond, taller than Viktor now, placed a hand on her shoulder and Hermione glared up at him. He was doing it to make Viktor jealous

Hermione nodded. “That’s what I got, Ma- Draco.”

“So are you and daddy taking me home soon?” the little boy continued, playing with Malfoy’s long silvery hair.

“Of course,” Malfoy answered for her. “Mummy’ll be back in a minute.”

Viktor cleared his throat and spoke. “I do not believe we ‘ave met.”

“No, I don’t we have,” Malfoy answered. “I’m Hermione’s husband, Draco. And this is our son,” he added, nudging Blaise slightly, signaling him to say hello. The little boy waved lightly.

Still smirking at them, Malfoy turned and made his way back to the table. Hermione felt Viktor’s eyes on her again and then on her hands which rested on the counter top. She had forgotten that she was actually wearing the fake wedding band that Dumbledore had given each couple.

“Last time, I ‘ave seen you, you were not with child,” Viktor said. “How old is he? Six?”

“He is actually,” Hermione said, fiddling with her silver bracelet nervously. “He’ll be turning seven tomorrow.”

“You’re husband is a handsome man,” Viktor said. He looked happy but his weary voice betrayed him.

“It’s only a project Viktor,” Hermione explained, guilt taking hold. “Dumbledore thinks that it’s important for the students to learn about raising children, so he inserted an extra class. We’re paired into couples and given a child to care for, for a month.”

“Dumbblydore is a good man,” Viktor said, smiling once more and butchering the headmaster’s name. “Very good idea.”

“Yes it was,” Hermione agreed.

Madame Rosmerta finally came back with Hermione’s order. She silently thanked the gods and paid for it. As she was about to walk away, Viktor stopped her.

“Vould you like me to help?” he asked, motioning towards her hands. She was struggling to balance everything. Hermione smiled gratefully and nodded.

Ron caught site of the seeker before everyone else and a scowl quickly crossed onto his face. Hermione mouthed “Be Nice” to him, before setting down the butterbeers .

“I’m sure everyone knows Viktor,” Hermione announced, motioning towards the tall man beside her. She heard a few squeals from Pansy, Ginny, and Parvati’s direction before Viktor was bombarded by them. He gently shook them off and set down the plate of food in front of a anxious Blaise.

“I am assuming that these belong to you?” he asked nicely. The little boy nodded and smiled up at Viktor.

“Vell I should be going,” Viktor said, straightening up.

“You should,” Ron muttered, before Harry kicked him under the table.

Hermione was drawn into another tight hug.

“Write me,” he whispered in her ear. “I would like to hear from you. I vill come to see you later this week.”

Hermione nodded, blushing furiously when she realized that almost everyone in the pub had stopped to look at them. A few flashes of a camera went off and Hermione groaned, knowing that it would be all over the papers the next morning. Viktor released her before waving goodbye at everyone

“I don’t like him,” Malfoy declared, glaring at Viktor’s back as Hermione sat down.

“You had no trouble when you were fawning over him in fourth year,” Hermione retorted, picking up a knife and cutting Blaise’s food into smaller pieces. “And it doesn’t matter on whether or not you like him. I’m sure he could care less.” Malfoy scowled at her.

“For once, I have to agree with Malfoy,” Ron piped up from beside Harry. “I never did like the bugger-”

“Oh please Ron,” Ginny said with exasperation, coming to Hermione’s defense from the other end of the table. “You had no problem with him until he started hitting on Hermione. We all know how you feel so why don’t you just -”

Ginny was quickly silenced by a sharp elbow to the ribs. She frowned at her brother before smiling back up at Hermione.

“Forget I said anything,” she said.

The brunette witch raised an eyebrow, before seeing Blaise stuff his chicken down his throat and pull on her arm.

“I am done,” he told her, smiling and showing her the half masicated chicken in his mouth. Hermione nodded, taking a small swig of butterbeer.

She and Malfoy said her good byes, well the blond really just stood there, took Blaise’s hand, plus the bags, and went back to Hogwarts. It was after they had put Blaise to bed for a nap when all hell broke loose.

Chapter 8: Bonding with a Malfoy
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Bonding With a Malfoy

Hermione waited a moment before completely closing Blaise's door, smiling as she watched the little boy fall into a deep sleep.

“You're not going to see Krum,” came a steely voice from behind her. Hermione jumped and turned to see Malfoy, his face completely emotionless save for an irate muscle twitching in his clenched jaw.

She rolled her eyes and shut the door so they wouldn't wake Blaise. “What on earth are you talking about Malfoy?” she snapped brushing past him. She was harshly yanked back, Malfoy's long fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist.

“Granger don't play with me,” he said in a low voice.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Hermione questioned angrily. She pulled from his grasp. “You know Malfoy, you've got to be the most mentally confused person I've ever met!”

“I'm warning you Granger, don't push me on this one,” Draco snapped back his voice getting louder to match hers.

“You treat me like shit one minute, the next you're dictating what I can and can't do on my free time!”

“Unless you want to fail this project Granger I suggest you listen to me. How do you think Blaise is going to react when he finds out that his mother, who if you've forgotten is supposed to be married to me, went on a hot date with Viktor Krum?”

“Well if you keep your mouth shut Malfoy there won't be a problem!” Her cheeks flushed with anger. “And who're you to act like I'm cheating or something? You go out with a different slag each night and you have the audacity to complain about Viktor?”

“Blaise isn't dumb Granger! He'd connect the dots!”

Hermione was about to hex Malfoy, he was making her so infuriated. Slowly, an evil smile spread across her face. “Tell you what Malfoy, since you're so concerned about affecting Blaise. If I'm not allowed to date or see anyone, neither are you!”

The muscle in his jaw twitched again before he said, “Fine.”

Hermione blinked in shock. “What?”

“You heard me Granger,” Draco growled as he moved closer so that they were only inches away from each other. “Cancel that date with Krum.”

She hadn't expected him to agree so readily and she could feel the bond of a Wizard Contract tightening around them. She mentally slapped herself for her stupidity but looked up and met Draco's level gaze. “Fine Malfoy. But don't forget your end of the bargain. I imagine keeping it in your pants will be a lot harder for you than for me.”

Hermione pushed past him, ignorant of the smirk that crossed his lips or the words he muttered under his breath. “Not as hard as you think Granger.”

Suddenly there was aloud banging on the door that startled the both of them. They gave each other somewhat worried looks before Draco strode to the door. “Who is it?”

“Ginny! Malfoy let me in, its an emergency!”

“Ginny!” Hermione rushed to the door, hearing the urgency in her friend's voice. Draco opened it, allowing the frantic redhead through. “What's wrong Ginny? What happened?”

“Seamus is missing Hermione!”

Her eyes widened with shock and paralyzing fear. Not only was he just a child, but he was her housemate and a friend.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where did they lose him?”

Draco, observing Ginny's expression said, “Its not that they lost him is it? More so that he was taken.”

“Taken? By who?”

Ginny glanced at Malfoy, obviously uncomfortable with saying the next sentence in front of him. “We're not completely sure but possibly a Deatheater. What better way to pick off Harry's friends than when they're children?”

“In Hogsmeade?”

“Yes. Harry brought him to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks and let him go in the stall alone. He noticed that Seamus stopped talking and then there was a bang. Like someone Apparating. Harry ran into the stall but Seamus was already gone.”

“So whoever it was, they must've been watching us,” Hermione said with a shudder, her eyes going to Blaise's door. She couldn't imagine what she would do if Blaise went missing. “But why would they want Seamus? He's only a child for the time being. Why wouldn't they try to capture Harry instead?”

“Perhaps they thought Finnigan would be an easier target,” Draco said, his eyes also on Blaise's door. “And with Potter's bleeding heart and enormous sense of guilt, it'll be very easy to draw him into a trap.”

Hermione knew Draco was right and looked at Ginny. “Where's Harry?”

“Harry!” Hermione yelled as she, Ginny, and Malfoy forced their way past the front door.

They froze when they saw Harry was on the couch, his head in his hands. Pansy was standing up, her eyes swollen and her face wet from tears. It was obvious they had just been arguing.

Hermione felt for Pansy- in the short time she was a mother to Seamus, she'd fallen in love with the little boy and truly treated him as if he were her own child. The fact that Seamus was probably taken by a Deatheater and Pansy's father was a well known supporter of Voldemort was probably tearing Pansy apart.

“You dumb sack of shit!” Pansy resumed her screaming. “If I had taken him, this wouldn't have happened!”

“Of course!” Harry snarled standing up. “Because Seamus wouldn't have been taken, you probably would've just handed him over Parkinson!”

Hermione's mouth opened with shock as she watched Pansy process Harry's words. The black haired girl quickly stepped up to Harry and slapped him before storming into her room and slamming the door.

Harry collapsed back on the couch, looking up and noticing them in the doorway.

“Harry...” Hermione started moving towards him.

“I'm sorry,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “I shouldn't have said that. I just...”

Hermione wrapped her arms around her best friend and held him as tightly as he could. “Its okay Harry. We'll find Seamus, I promise.”


“We'll search Hogsmeade, put out fliers, let the public know that Deatheaters have taken a child as a war prisoner.” She turned to Ginny. “Gin would you mind sending a note to Tonks and have her alert all of the Aurors to start searching , especially Knockturn Alley.”

“Of course!” she said. “I'll be right back!”

“You've told Dumbledore right?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded. “Okay. We'll search for them ourselves. Get together everyone in Hogwarts who cares about Seamus and we'll spread out to cover the most amount of area.”

Harry stayed silent and Hermione slid her hand into his. “Harry I know you feel guilty but it isn't your fault. All we can do now is search for Seamus and hope that someone has seen something suspicious and is willing to help.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “We can do this Harry. But first apologize to Pansy- you guys need to do this together.”

Harry's green eyes met hers and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay Hermione.”

He got up and knocked on Pansy's door before going inside. Hermione stood, turning to glance at Draco whose eyes were focused on the ground.

“Malfoy,” she said cautiously. “I know you weren't a fan of Seamus and could care less about what happens to him. But he's just a child. Imagine if Blaise were-”

“I know Granger,” he interrupted. “There was never a doubt in my mind about helping to find him.”

Hermione smiled but quickly quelled it, trying to appear serious. “Well thanks Malfoy. It means a lot to me.”

“I know.” He didn't smile or offer any reassurance. But it meant a lot more to her than she thought it would.

Hermione left, on a mission.

Being the organizational powerhouse she was, Hermione organized a search for Seamus two hundred and thirty people strong by the time the sun set. Fliers were made and ready to be distributed throughout Hogsmeade, neighboring magical towns, and Diagon Alley. Tonks and her team of Aurors were searching Knockturn Alley.

All of the program parents were together, searching Diagon Alley. Harry and Pansy had reconciled and were both searching ferverently for Seamus. The Alley was packed with people considering it was a Saturday night and it was hard to push through walls five people thick.

Draco was extremely effective in the search, scaring people into giving any information they knew about a child being taken and in forcing his way through the crowd. He'd begun to grow on her- he wasn't completely heartless, that much was certain as she watched the dedication with which he searched for the missing little boy.

“Have you seen a little boy with brown, brown eyes and an Irish accent?” he asked a group of guys who were passing around a bottle of fire whiskey.

“Whose your friend?” one of the guys asked, his eyes on Hermione.

“Keep your eyes off of her and on me,” Draco snarled pulling a picture from his pocket. He grabbed the guy by his long hair, forcing the picture in his face. “I'll repeat myself one more time before I use my wand on you- have you seen this little boy anywhere? With anyone?”

“Yes!” he said, his voice panicked and angry with pain. “I saw a little kid around by himself! By Knockturn Alley!”

Draco released him, glaring at him with a deadly gaze before pushing his way towards Knockturn alley.

“Asshole,” the guy said, muttering to his friends.

“Thank you,” Hermione said to them quickly before following Draco.

By the time she caught up with him, Draco was turning the corner which led to Knockturn Alley. They went through, entering the smaller, more disturbing street. It was quieter, with dark shapes shifting in the shadows. There were kids there too, younger ones who found the dangers and mysteries of Knockturn alley alluring. They giggled in the street, gasping at the horrid objects on display in the dim store windows.

“Have any of you seen a small child, around six years old?” Hermione asked them. “He has brown eyes and brown hair and-”

“Um, over there?” a blonde witch said questioningly, pointing somewhere behind Hermione.

She spun around and saw a brown haired little boy, up on his tiptoes, staring into a shop window. The lone child had already attracted some attention. Hermione quickly alerted Draco and pushed her way towards him. Before she could get there, a tall bulky man who had an uncanny resemblance to Fenrir Greyback approached Seamus, leaning down to say something to the little boy. She watched the man grin and as soon as she saw his pointy, triangular, incredibly sharp teeth, she knew. He was a werewolf, probably either a part of Fenrir's pack or an acquaintance of his and most likely a supporter of Voldemort.

She reached Seamus just as the man put a hand on the little boy's shoulder. She quickly pulled him away.

“Aunty Hermione!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “I got lost!”

“Who're you girl?” the man asked, his eyes red with anger as he stalked towards her. “And what business do you have-”

“I swear to Merlin if you come any closer to him I will gut you like a fish,” Hermione snapped vehemently.

The man blinked, taken aback. Then he smiled and chuckled. “I do like my meals much better if there's a fight. Fear seems to tenderize the meat. I'll enjoy that mouth of yours girl when I'm ripping you limb from limb.”

Seamus began to cry and Hermione tightened her grip on his hand as her other reached for her wand. The man stepped closer menacingly.

“Don't make me curse you,” came Draco's voice from behind her. Hermione sighed with relief. He stepped in front of her, pushing her and Seamus behind him.

“Well if it isn't Draco Malfoy,” the man said smiling toothily. “What would Lucius say if he knew you were depriving me of my next meal?”

“I could give a flying fuck what he thinks,” Draco snarled. “And you're highly mistaken if you think I do. The only thing keeping me back is deciding which way I'm going to kill you.”

“Still touchy over that scar I gave to your mother?” the man taunted. “I think it looks rather lovely on her-”

Draco threw a curse at the man, something Hermione couldn't hear, and it knocked the man backwards to the ground so hard that the cobblestone cracked. By now attention had been drawn to them and people were gathering to see the fight.

The man got up grimacing as he nursed a broken arm. Before anyone could blink his wand was out and he sent a splitting hex. Hermione at first thought it was for Draco but seen realized it was meant for her. She quickly pushed Seamus out of the way, knowing she had no time to deflect the spell. She closed her eyes, bracing for the impact but it never came. She opened her eyes and saw Draco step in front of her, taking the hex straight in the shoulder. Hermione heard the bone split and crack all the way down his left arm. Draco grunted with pain but raised his good arm to throw another curse. The man dodged it and grabbed Hermione pulling her against his chest.

His fingers wrapped in her hair and he pulled her neck back, scrapping his razor sharp teeth against his skin. “Here's the ultimatum Malfoy. Keep the child and I tear her throat out. Or give me the child and I'll give this delicious morsel back to you.”

Hermione shivered as she felt his teeth pierce her skin, drawing blood. His tongue traced the droplets, collecting them before rolling back into his mouth.

“Delicious,” the man said tauntingly.

Draco moved forward, raising his wand but before he could utter a curse, a voice spoke from behind Hermione and the man.

“Release her Moondales...” the person didn't need to complete the threat, the man immediately let Hermione go.

Hermione sighed with relief when she saw it was Kingsley Shacklebolt, his wand tip at Moondales' jugular. Behind him were Tonks, Moody and a few others.

She quickly backed away, returning to Draco and Seamus.

“Finally,” Tonks said before smiling at Hermione. “Wotcher Hermione! I'm glad you finally found him!'

“Thanks Tonks for helping out,” Hermione said gratefully.

“No problem. And we've finally caught this bastard, part of Fenrir's pack of werewolves.”

Hermione shuddered with the knowledge that she was right and the very real possibility of what would've happened to Seamus if they hadn't gotten there just then.

“You should go back to Hogwarts,” Shacklebolt said kindly. “Have Pomfrey heal your neck and let the others know you've found him.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, taking Seamus' hand. Her and Draco pushed through the ring of people. She was anxious to get back to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

An hour later and everyone was much happier. Everyone had been called back to Hogwarts and Pansy ran to Seamus gathering his small body in her arms before peppering him with kisses all over his face.

“Ugh mummy!” Seamus complained. “Daddy, get her off!”

Harry watched, a relieved and happy smile on his face. “You scared us Seamus. We thought something very bad had happened to you.”

“Don't ever do something like this again!” Pansy said

Apparently the pop Harry heard wasn't someone Apparating away with Seamus- it was Seamus himself. Though he was a child, he still had the ability and license to Apparate and that's just what he did, straight into Diagon Alley where he wandered into Knockturn Alley.

“I didn't do it on purpose!” Seamus grumbled. “It was a accident mummy.”

Everyone dispersed, ready to rest after a harrowing, long day. Hermione and Draco made their way back to the “house”. They had asked, hilariously, Snape to babysit since all of the students were searching for Seamus and he was required by Hogwarts rule to stay on grounds.

He had begrudgingly agreed. They quietly entered the house and saw Snape sprawled on the couch, asleep, with a sleeping Blaise on his chest.

“Never thought I would see the day Snape willingly take care of a child,” Hermione muttered as she summoned her camera and took a picture. The flash disturbed Snape, who stirred and opened his eyes.

“I'm assuming you found the little idiot,” the potions master said in a rough, sleep laden voice. He carefully slipped Blaise from his chest so that the little boy was resting on the couch.

“We did,” Draco answered as he picked up Blaise. “Thank you Uncle Snape.” Hermione blinked, the term sounding weird to her ears and was even more shocked when Snape smiled at his two godsons.

“Although inconvenient and unbearable, it was no problem,” he replied.

Draco went into Blaise's room to put the little boy to sleep.

“Thank you Professor Snape,” Hermione said, hoping he could hear the sincerity in her voice.

“I will see you in class Miss Granger,” he said, meeting her gaze with his black eyes. “And I swear if that picture of me and my godson ends up in a public slide show, the consequences will not be pretty.”

He swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him as Hermione stood as she smiled with amusement. Was it worth the punishment she'd get from Snape to put the picture up and possibly humiliate and emasculate him more than anyone probably had? Completely.

Hermione tiptoed to Blaise's room, watching Draco carefully slip the sleeping boy into his bed. He looked warmly down at Blaise before turning to leave the room. Hermione backed away allowing him to close the door.

“Malfoy...I wanted to say thank you. For everything today.”

Draco continued walking towards his room.

“Malfoy!” she called out following him and placing a hand on his arm. “I mean it,seriously. You saved Seamus' life...and mine.”

He turned around, a grin on his lips. “Which means you owe me a life debt, right?”

Hermione looked at him, stunned for a moment. “I guess...I guess I do.”

She felt another bond tighten around them- the second one that day.

“The reason...” he started, staring at her with molten silver eyes. “I wanted you to stay away from Krum isn't just because of Blaise...I-”

He paused, searching her face before turning from her. His voice was cold when he spoke again “Never mind Granger. I'll tell you once all of this is done.”

“All of what?” Hermione asked. For some reason, her heart was beating faster, her cheeks flushed not with anger but with something else as she watched the man who she'd grown to respect and...what was that feeling, the feeling which made her feel like she had small bird fluttering in her ribcage...

He didn't answer her and she watched him disappear into his room before the door shut. She sighed, exhausted from the tiring day, knowing she had to get up early tomorrow to set up for Blaise's birthday.

In just one day, she was brought closer to Draco Malfoy than she thought she'd ever be. And the beginning of a feeling, a feeling which she would deny all night as she stared restlessly at her ceiling, had already taken root in her chest.

Things were about to get very complicated...

Chapter 9: The Birthday Blues
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I just wanted to say thank you to all my readers, new and old and that I can't even begin to apologize for my ridiculously long hiatus. But I'll definitely be completing this story!


Hermione was woken up the next morning before her alarm went off by loud noises coming from the kitchen or living room. Groaning she wiped the sleep from her eyes and cast a quick scourgify on her teeth- that would have to do till she set everything up and was able to take a shower. As she stood and gathered up her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, her fingers brushed across the bite marks from yesterday. They were still rather fresh and stung a little. Hermione shuddered, thinking of the werewolf.

She'd never went to see Madame Pomfrey, she was just so focused on getting back to Blaise and then catching some sleep. Which meant...

“Oh shit Malfoy!” she exclaimed in a hushed whisper. She didn't even notice last night that he'd never healed his split arm. Had he healed it himself?

Hermione quickly rushed out into the kitchen, knowing that it was Malfoy making all the noise.

He seemed to be struggling with pots before growling with frustration. He snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared. He leaned down, saying something in its ear before straightening and collapsing on the nearby loveseat. His arm seemed partially healed but he still grimaced everytime he moved it.

“Malfoy,” Hermione said, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't wake Blaise.

He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Granger.”

“ never healed your arm?” Hermione asked. “You were supposed to see Madame Pomfrey!”

“Well obviously I didn't.” His eyes found her neck, staying there before moving back up to her face. “And neither did you.”

“An arm that's split in two is much more serious Malfoy,” Hermione countered.

“Its nothing I can't handle.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at his typical macho response and sat down next to him on the small couch. As she whipped out her wand, he looked at her somewhat incredulously.

“You think you can fix this?” he asked, as she pulled his split arm into her lap. “These hexes, even for Pomfrey, are difficult to heal.”

She trained her wand on his arm, muttering a healing spell he'd never heard before. A soft green light twisted its way from her wand tip before dissapearing into his skin.

“It'll take a couple of minutes,” Hermione said, slowly tracing her wand up his split bone. “I...during the summer when we were battling Deatheaters everyday, there were a lot of people hit by this splitting hex. I researched and kind of created a new spell to help heal the injuries. You'll still have to see Pomfrey but this will make it feel almost as good as new.”

“Why am I not surprised,” he said. Hermione expected to hear sarcasm in his voice but there was none. In fact he sounded...warmer than usual. She raised her eyes to meet his.

“About what Malfoy?” she asked.

His lip twitched into the closest thing to a smile she'd ever seen directed at her. “Nothing Granger. Just concentrate on healing me so we can set up this ridiculous party.”

She grinned a little, thinking of Blaise and how happy he would be. “Please tell me you bought him a gift.”

“Still doubting my fatherly instincts?”

“I'm not!” Hermione said quickly.

“I did,” he said, his face tightening with pain as the spell began to travel up the main bone of his arm, slowing knitting it back together. “Don't tell me you bought him a book.”

She sniffed indignantly. “I bought him more than one gift Malfoy. And so what if one of them is a book? Blaise loves to read!”

He smirked at her and Hermione felt her own lips betray her, curling into something like a smile but she quickly lowered her head so he wouldn't see it. She could still feel his eyes on her.

“You should go see Pomfrey,” she heard Draco say.

“I will.” She paused. “Malfoy, I know I've already said this a million times and you're probably sick of hearing me say it but thank you...I mean it.”

“Don't forget you still owe me a life debt.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, typical Malfoy. “So when do you plan on using it?”

“I'm not going to tell you,” Draco said as his smirk grew wider. “Thats half the fun.”

“So you knew Moondales from before?” Hermione asked, knowing she was straying into dangeous territory. Everyone knew that Narcissa was a very touchy topic for Draco Malfoy.

He stiffened but she wasn't sure if it was from her question or the pain of having his arm mended. But he answered her. “When my father failed...him over the summer, he sent Moondales to Malfoy Manor to punish Lucius. But he wasn't there so he went for the next best thing. My mother was tending roses in her garden when she screamed. It made my blood run cold.

I managed to...get there before he really did any serious damage. I thought I'd killed him but obviously not. He's been a rogue since then- the Dark Lord wasn't too happy with the fact that he tried to kill Narcissa considering its my mother's family bank account which funded a large part of his empire.”

Hermione was quiet, shocked both by the story and the fact that he had just released a part of his life's history to her. She would've never expected that she'd have a heart to heart with Draco Malfoy.

“Draco...” she ventured, testing out his first name. It was the first time she'd ever said it without being forced to because of Blaise. “I'm...sorry-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Draco's lips were on hers, stealing her breath as he kissed her forcefully and passionately. His good arm wrapped around her, hauling her closer to his body as he searched her mouth. Hermione felt herself relax in his arms, even though she knew this was wrong and weird and so out of the blue and she knew she definitely shouldn't be kissing Draco Malfoy though she stayed up so late, thinking about him...

The last thing that entered her mind as she yielded herself to the intensity of the kiss, wasn't about how wrong the situation was. Thank god I scourgified my teeth...

His hand was in her hair now, releasing it from the confines of her bun, his fingers tangling themselves in her mane as he sought to dominate her and make her want it as much as he did. He nipped her bottom lip, making her groan before slipping his tongue through her swollen lips to carress her own, making her groan again into his mouth.

Hermione's mind was blank, all she could feel was the crazy little bird in her chest, beating its wings wildly as she felt Draco Malfoy kiss her like no one had ever before. Gods it'd been so long since anyone had kissed her like this...

“Hermione!” came a sing song voice from outside the door. Hermione instantly recognized the voice of Ginny.

Draco kept kissing her, muttering against her lips. “Ignore the little chit, Granger. Don't make me use the life debt to force you”

Hermione shook her head, trying to escape Draco's grasp- she'd given the password to the “house” to Ginny in case of emergencies. Before she could pull away completely, she heard an astonished gasp from behind them. Hermione turned to see Ginny whose eyes were open wide with shock.

They stared at eachother before Ginny composed herself, a smirk sliding onto her face as she watched a flustered Hermione quickly stand up and fix her hair. Draco stood too, also smirking.

“Weasley,” he said shortly before turning around and going into his room.

Hermione and Ginny stared at eachother once more before the redhead squealed, “Hermione did you just make out with Draco Malfoy?”

“No!” Hermione said in a hushed whisper, before pointing to Blaise's door as a signal to keep quiet. “I did NOT make out with him. He kissed me Ginny and I er...I just didn't pull away as fast as I should've.”

Ginny grinned wider and set down the packages she had in her hands on the table. “I knew it! I knew you two were sexually frustrated with eachother!”

“I am not sexually frustrated because of Malfoy!” Hermione denied.

“Admit it! You like him!”

Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm, dragging her into her room before sound proofing it. She collapsed on her bed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers.

“I don't like him!” Hermione said. At this point it was still the truth...she'd spent all night thinking about yesterday and Malfoy and while she couldn't say that she liked him or had deep feelings for him, she couldn't deny that she was attracted to him in some way.

“You do!” Ginny said. “Or if you don't, you're definitely attracted to him!”

“Okay, yes I'm attracted to him! But who isn't? And what he's done in just one day has made him a little more than I did. He saved my life and Seamus'.”

“So thankful, you decided to snog him senseles,” Ginny said dryly with a smile.

Hermione hit her with a pillow. “Look Gin, I was just caught up in the moment. While I can't deny that I er...liked it, I can't say that I like him either, seriously. I just...its been a while, if you get what I'm saying.”

Ginny placed a hand on Hermione's arm. “Look I understand Hermione. It happens to the best of us. Like that time I made out with Goyle.” She grimaced thinking about it and Hermione laughed.

“I'd have to say thats worse Ginny,” Hermione said with a smile. “Maybe I should just try to keep a distance from Malfoy until this whole thing is over. I have no idea what he's playing at but he probably just wants to get in my knickers before this project is done. We made a pact that we can't date other people until this is over.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Why in the hell would either of you agree to that?”

“He brought up Krum and how Blaise would be affected. So I said if I wasn't allowed, neither was he. I didn't expect him to agree so readily.”

“Blaise is his friend and for now his son,” Ginny said softly. “Maybe it was the best choice?”

“Probably,” Hermione said, standing up. “But now I've got to deal with his out of control hormones.”

“Maybe that was the plan,” the red head said, wiggling her eyesbrows.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh please, Gin.”

“You're right,” Ginny said. “Lets setup for Blaise's party. Everyone will be here in less than an hour.”

Blaise's party turned out excellently. Ginny and Draco and Hermione managed to hang all of the decorations and Hermione conjured a dragon made of colored smoke which she charmed to fly continously around the room. All of the program parents and the kids came along with other students who were friends of Hermione, Draco, or Blaise. Even the professors came to the party, all sitting around the fire discussing different topics.

To Hermione's glee, Blaise had forced Snape to wear a pointed birthday hat and sing “Happy Birthday” in front of everyone. Embarassing Snape was getting easier and easier when she had Blaise around and she snapped a couple of pictures for the album.

The house elves made an enormous four tiered cake for the party which Goyle and Crabbe attacked as soon as they arrived at the party. The two oafs hadn't even brought gifts.

The sun was setting and Dumbledore ushered everyone onto the balcony overlooking the great lake and the rolling hills of the countryside beyond. She stood behind, observing the people around her and thinking that maybe Dumbledore this time had really gotten it right. Slytherins and Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were all co-existing and enjoying it for this short amount of time.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and there was an enormous boom that everyone could feel in the soles of their feet. Suddenly thousands of fireworks went off in the sky, bright as stars as the sun sank into darkness. Everyone gasped, faces illuminated by the exploding colored lights.

Hermione suddenly felt someone beside her and she looked to see Draco, his eyes focused on the fireworks which were weaving and forming all kinds of different shapes, undoutedly thanks to Dumbledore's magic.

“Blaise loved fireworks when we were kids,” Draco said, his voice soft. “I never really understood his fascination until now.”

Hermione smiled a little, her eyes leaving Draco to find an astonished Blaise, his face bright with rapture as he watched the fireworks from atop Hagrid's shoulders.

“Today was good,” she said softly.

“It was?” he drawled with a smirk. “What was so good about it Granger?”

She felt her cheeks flush. “Not you Malfoy,” she muttered harshly.

“You weren't complaining this morning,” Draco said as his smirk grew wider. He was watching her turn red with discomfort.

“You kissed me!” she hissed poking him in the chest. “I didn't do anything Malfoy, I was trying to heal your bloody arm-”

He kissed her, for the second time that day, capturing her lips in short, hard kiss that stole her breath. She pulled away quickly, shocked and speechless. She glanced around and knew noone had seen them but she felt anger flood through her body. She slammed her way inside, knowing that Draco would get the hint and follow her.

“Problem Granger?” he asked somewhat tauntingly as he closed the door behind him.

“Malfoy don't mess with me!” she snapped. “I'm not one of your slags and I won't hesistate to give you something worse than a split arm if you keep pushing me!”

“Blaise!” came an accented lilting female voice from one of the rooms in the house.

“Who is that?” Hermione asked Draco.

He shrugged but his body was on alert as he silently began to approach where the voice was coming from. Hermione followed, drawing her wand. Her mind immediately went to the worse case scenario and thought perhaps Blaise's mother had come, perhaps accompanied by one of the many shady characters she was known to occasionally deal with.

They finally stopped in front of Draco's room who blasted the door open. The woman inside screamed and when the dust cleared, Hermione's jaw dropped with shock.

On Draco's bed dressed in rather racy negligee was a very pretty woman with short brown hair and brown eyes. Hermione immediately covered her eyes, quickly realizing that the lingerie the woman was wearing was also completely see through.

“Denise, what the hell?” Draco snarled angrily. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Denise blinked, frowning. “Draco? I came to see Blaise. It is his birthday and I wanted to surprise him. So leave, I'm not into voyeurism.”

“Get out,” Draco demanded through a clenched jaw. “You're in my room.”

“Fine,” Denise snapped waspishly, grabbing the short silk robe she'd deposited on the floor.

“Malfoy!” Hermione scolded. “Don't direct her to Blaise's room!”

“And who're you then?” Denise asked shrilly, slipping on her robe and pointing a finger at Hermione. “One of his whores?”

“Get out,” Hermione said in a steely voice. “Before I do something I won't regret.”

“Mommy? Daddy?”

Everyone froze as they heard the young boy's voice behind them.

“You have a child?” Denise asked incredulously. “I can't belive this! Draco Malfoy has a child!”

“Its a project,” Draco snapped as Hermione went to Blaise. “And just for your information, that is Blaise.”

Denise's eyes flew to the little boy again, taking in the identical but younger features.

“You guys are sickos,” she spat before storming out of the room. They heard the door slam and Hermione sighed with relief, glad that Blaise hadn't heard anymore than he needed to.

“I'm tired,” Blaise complained, rubbing his eyes.

Hermione sighed. “Alright, lets go to bed.”

Blaise led the way. As Hermione turned to leave, Draco said, “Granger look...I'm not-”

“Save it Malfoy,” Hermione said tiredly. “I'll...I'll see you tomorrow.”

Hermione put Blaise to sleep and went back out to say goodbye to everyone as people began to leave. She could feel Draco's eyes on her as she kissed Harry and Ron goodnight.

“See you tomorrow 'Mione,” Ron said. “Don't forget we have a game against-” he lowered his voice”- those slimy Slytherins. We're going to pummel them!”

“How could I forget Ron,” Hermione said laughing. “I'll be there cheering you guys on.”

Five minutes later, the “house” was empty and filled with an awkward silence that made Hermione shift uncomfortably. She tried to busy herself by scourgifying and picking up everything but Draco just kept staring at her as he leaned against a wall. Hermione went into the kitchen to drop off the dishes and when she turned around, Draco was right behind her.

“Jesus Christ Malfoy, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Granger, listen to me,” he snapped grabbing her arm as she tried to move past him. “If you want me to apologize I will but we can't let this affect Blaise.”

“Why?” Hermione spat angrily. “You're so concerned about your grade?”

“My grade? Granger you're the one obsessed with bloody grades 90 percent of the time!”

“This project stopped being about the grade as soon as we started! That was never important to me!”


“Malfoy, lets just go back to hating eachother,” she said. “Being civil causes too many problems.”

He smirked. “Being civil causes problems?”


“I thought you were all for house unity Granger.”

“Cheeky,” Hermione said scowling at the smirking blonde.

“Granger I could care less either way. If you don't want civility, believe me I can give that to you.”

She groaned at his elusive answer and said,“I'm going to bed Malfoy. Please try to wash Blaise correctly tomorrow for once.”

He didn't answer and she went into her room, getting into her bed and quickly falling asleep.

But not for long. Around five o'clock, earlier than even when she got up, Hermione heard noise in the kitchen, like the previous morning.

She groaned with frustration. “Not again Malfoy.”

She slammed open her door and stalked into the kitchen, her vision still impaired with sleep. “Malfoy,” she snapped. “What in the buggering hell are you doing out he-”

She stopped and for the second time in twenty four hours there was someone in front of her she didn't expect.

“Ms. Granger,” drawled a voice. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Standing in her kitchen was Lucius Malfoy.

Chapter 10: Bon Chance for a Malfoy
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Bon Chance for a Malfoy


Author's note

I changed Draco's birthday here- I know technically his birthday is in June but I always imagined Draco being a fall/ winter baby. Just wanted to put it out there for those who might notice.

Also I know Lucius is very OCC- I wanted to have little bit more fun with his character.



Excerpt from the Daily Prophet, September


After the fall of Voldemort, Deatheaters were given two choices- the Dementor's kiss or a life without magic.

Unlike his radical sister-in-law Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy chose to have his magic stripped and his wand broken. So how is the infamous Malfoy patriarch doing as a muggle?

“He cries everynight,” claims a muggle who lives next door to Malfoy's one bedroom apartment in muggle London. “Its so depressing- I have to bang on the walls to get him to stop.”

Though seemingly not a crier, Lucius is still a show stopper, causing scenes in the muggle world. According to a Hogwarts student home from break over the summer, Malfoy caused a major scene in a muggle supermarket.

“The police had to be called and arrested him,” she says. “He threw money in the cashier's face and threatened everyone with his non-existent wand. They thought he said bomb. It was all over the news.”

Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, whom all reforming Deatheaters must report to, feels no sympathy for Voldemort's right hand man. “Maybe living in the muggle world will aleviate his racism. His humiliation is nothing compared to the pain he and his crew put people through.”

Despite his fall, Lucius' ex-wife Narcissa has thrived since her divorce from Lucius late last year. “She's much happier,” comments a close aquaintence. Considering Narcissa is now married to a twenty four year old and living on a beach in Spain, its completely believable.

Despite Malfoy's infamously dark past, some have shown an interest in Lucius' life as a muggle. According to recent sources, the wizarding television network WH1 showed an interest in creating a new show “True Life- I used to be a Deatheater” with Lucius as the main character. As of yet, no confirmation has been made.

No matter magic or magicless, Lucius Malfoy is still one of the wizarding world's most fascinating, and infamous, celebrities.



Hermione immediately drew and pointed her wand at the blonde intruder, her heart beating a million miles a second. She already had a slew of curses on the tip of her tongue.

“Lucius Malfoy,” she said through gritted teeth. “Is there a reason why you're in my rooms?”

He raised a slender eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, my son lives here too. Put your wand down, mudblood, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.” He meant exactly the opposite.

“Don't make me curse you,” Hermione spat. “I defeated you in battle, I sure as hell can do it again.”

“Its okay,” came Draco's voice from behind her, steely and cold. “I didn't invite him here but perhaps this is another twist produced from Dumbledore's inane ideas.”

“Draco,” Lucius said. She was surprised to hear warmth in his voice as he looked at his son. The last time she'd seen the Malfoy patriarch, he was calling his son 'useless' and a 'waste of space and time'.

Honestly, Hermione agreed with Draco- allowing Lucius Malfoy into Hogwarts was extremely dangerous unless...

“What is that around your ankle?” Hermione asked, catching sight of a black bracelet wrapped around Lucius' pale leg. It looked like...Merlin it looked like a...

“Bloody hell is that a monitoring bracelet?” Hermione asked, laughing. “Like the kind muggles have to get to monitor their alcohol and location?”

The older man colored before saying stonily, “I have no explanations to give to the likes of you, mudblood.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed more than angry about him calling her a mudblood. His lip turned up into a vehement scowl as he glared at the student before him.

Draco said with a cold smirk, “Father is banned from using Magic for the next one hundred years. The bracelet ensures his compliance with the Ministry order.”

She felt her mouth drop with surprise as she realized that Lucius had been searching for pots, trying to figure out how to make himself a meal. Without magic, he couldn't even summon a house elf for help. Lucius Malfoy was a muggle.

“And,” Draco continued. “He has to go to weekly Deatheaters Anonymous sessions. To talk about his feelings.”

Hermione almost choked trying to keep her laughter in. Even though he couldn't use magic, Lucius did look angry with a pot in each hand.

“Where's my mother?” Draco asked as he walked past his father into the kitchen.

Lucius' voice hardened. “Narcissa? That cheating, back stabbing wh-” He paused and composed himself, running a hand through his should length hair. “Your mother and her new husband arrive later in the afternoon.”

“Would you like to tell me why the entire Malfoy clan is converging in our house?” Hermione asked irrately. Malfoy had never explained why his parents were coming.

Lucius sneered, “Not that its any of your business mudblood but Draco's birthday is tomorrow.”

“Oh,” was all she could say. “I didn't-”

Before she could continue, Draco said shortly, “Don't Granger I could care less either way.”

“My son,” he said, clasping Draco on the shoulder. “A Malfoy's eighteenth birthday is most important- you're truly a Malfoy now.”

Hermione knew that certain pureblood families placed a heavy emphasis on coming of age- a boy's seventeenth or eighteenth birthday was the day he truly became a man and a viable leader to continue the family's name. It was pretty important but she didn't know that it was still practiced until now.

“So where is Blaise?” Lucius asked Draco.

“In his room,” Hermione said shortly. “Asleep.”

“She's very protective,” Draco said dryly, leaving his father to struggle in the kitchen alone. “He won't remember you in any case.”

Draco left, presumably to go back to bed, leaving Hermione and Lucius in awkward silence.

She could feel Lucius' cold eyes on her, making her shudder when she remembered how dangerous he was in combat and on the battle field. This new, almost helpless Lucius would take some time to get used to.

“Having trouble with the muggle way of life?” Hermione asked, smiling almost cruely as she watched him struggle to pick up the fallen pots.

“Brilliant deduction Ms. Granger,” he drawled. Lucius was trying to play it cool but it was obvious to her that he was frustrated and probably more irritated by her presence. He muttere to himself,“Living life as a mudblood is thoroughly excruciating.”

“How the mighty have fallen,” Hermione muttered, shaking her head as she watched Lucius continue to struggle. “I could help you, you know. Just this once.”

“I need no help,” Lucius spat predictably. “Let alone help from a filthy mudblood.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Look, I'll make you a quick breakfast and noone will ever know but you and me. You've already embarassed yourself, you might as well get a meal out of it.”

The blonde paused before turning to face her with a menacing snarl. “Muggle or not, I swear if this gets out, I will kill you in your sleep,” he threatened, sounding very much like his old self.

Now that was the Lucius she knew.

Lucius sat at the breakfast bar, watching her closely as she moved around the kitchen to get his breakfast started. She pulled out bacon, eggs, and bread and in under fifteen minutes she'd made Lucius a small but hearty breakfast.

“Veritaserum free,” Hermione said as she placed the plate in front of him. He looked up at with a hard glint in his eye. “I swear.”

Lucius cautiously observed the contents of the plate with his fork before taking a bite of bacon. She watched, slightly amused, as Lucius closed his eyes with pleasure before stuffing the rest of the bacon into his mouth.

He chewed, watching her warily as she watched him. When he was done, he took a swig of orange juice and said coldly, “No one knows about this. This never happened.”

Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from laughing and with a straigh face answered, “On my honor as a muggle born, I will not tell.”

Lucius dismissed her with a flick of his hand and Hermione left the elder Malfoy to enjoy his meal while she enjoyed the two hours before she had to get up.

Though Lucius had gotten her to swear she wouldn't tell anyone, he'd never said Hermione couldn't show someone.

Hermione grinned as she summoned her disillusioned camera and gently placed it on her dresser.

It was very precious. It had blackmail worthy pictures inside.

Time for payback for all the hell he put them through during the war.



If anyone had told Hermione that the Malfoy family was dysfunctial, she would've replied, “Thats an understatement.”

But comical? Never would she have thought that, considering she was sitting across from notorious Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, who would kill her without blinking if he had possesion of his wand.

And she never would've thought that she'd be sitting at brunch with all the surviving Malfoys either.

Narcissa had arrived a short while ago with her new husband, Antonio, a handsome man with a dazzling smile who was only twenty-four. Draco's mother was beautiful as always, but had more color to her and looked more lively and well...happier. She was, surprisingly, very kind to Hermione and actually interested in S.P.E.W. Talking to Narcissa for only five minutes would force anyone to conclude that the woman was immensely intelligent and very cunning beneath her demure exterior.

Hermione wished she could say the same for Antonio. He was young and handsome in a different way from the Malfoy men, and while humorous, she was sure he was missing half a brain.

“Antonio is a hairdresser,” Narcissa gushed at the table as she fed her husband a piece of fruit. “He's in high demand in Spain.”

“Oh,thats nice,” Hermione said, trying to ignore the fact that Antonio was sucking on Narcissa's fingers. “So do you have your own shop?”

“I am a hairdresser,” Antonio replied.

“Er...thats what I meant. You know like a shop to do hair in?”

“It is my passion,” he said, not really answering her question. “I also design jewelry.”

“Alright then,” Hermione said. She turned her head and made a face at Draco who shrugged- he'd obviously gotten used to Antonio.

“You know one of my particularly excellent skills,” Lucius began, cutting through his steak as he tried to maintain his composure.“Is being able to tell who is a homosexual.”

“Grow up Lucius,” Narcissa spat. “Times have changed. Doing hair or designing jewelry doesn't mean a man is homosexual.”

Lucius shrugged. “Just saying.”

“You're still jealous!” Narcissa accused, pointing her fork at him. “For Merlin's sake Lucius, the divorce was almost a year ago. Get over it!”

“Oh I'm so over it! But I'm not the one who said I was going for a quick trip to Spain and came back married! Which was illegal by the way because you were still married to me!”

“Details aren't important,” she answered dismissively. “Merlin if I had known divorce was going to be this difficult, I would've just hired someone to kill you years ago.”

“You weren't saying that when you were screaming my name last December in Mexico! I had you speaking in Spanish all night long you ungrateful-”

Hermione coughed on her water and nearly choked. This meal was revealing way too much information. She glanced over at Draco who had paled considerably and felt a little bad for him- but only a little.

“Its called faking Lucius!” Narcissa spat back. “Something I don't have to do with Antonio by the way!

“I was good in bed and you know it!” Lucius exclaimed.

Narcissa said flatly,“Fine, you were good in bed.”

“Don't say it if you don't mean it!”

Narcissa rolled her eyes and shook her head, pursing her lips together as the rest of the table just sat in silence.

“Despite the overall shittiness of growing up in Malfoy Manor, I think that was the most emotionally damaging conversation of my life,” Draco said stonily.

“Draco, language,” Narcissa admonished, taking a dainty bite of her fish before feeding Antonio again. God was he so stupid that he couldn't feed himself?

“Obviously you are you say in English...bitter?” Antonio asked Lucius.

“Bitter? I'm not bitter you brainless arse,” Lucius snarled. “Once she cheats on you, you can join the club.”

“If I'm not mistaken you had your share of mistresses Lucius. Don't make it seem like you've been completely faithful!”

“Yes Narcissa,” Lucius said tonelessly. “I went to a brothel in Knockturn Alley. And I paid for my mistake by catching Chlamydia. Which I then gave to Mrs. Parkinson.”

Draco's mouth dropped open. “You shagged Pansy Parkinson's mother?”

“You slept with her daughter so don't judge” Lucius said haughtily. “It was a bad night.”

“We've all had those nights,” Antonio said with a lascivious smirk.

Hermione watched his hand slip from the table and disappear in Narcissa's lap, doing Merlin knows what underneath her dress. She had the urge to vomit.

“I'm sure you've had your share of sex with men,” Lucius said. “However, we're not here to discuss you but the Malfoy family. Which you're not part of.”

“I can't believe my son will be eighteen,” Narcissa said smiling at Draco as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Mum, stop that.”

“You'll understand someday when you have children,” Narcissa said, looking back and forth between Hermione and Draco suggestively.

She choked on her water again. “You can't mean between me and-”

“Oh stop trying to hide it, I can sense love from a mile away!” exclaimed Narcissa.

“Draco, you're planning on marrying a mudblood?” Lucius asked in a disgusted tone. “If you polute Malfoy blood I will have your head!” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Would you rather Pansy Parkinson as the bearer of the next Malfoy heir?” Draco sneered. “Remember when you told me, “Marrying a mudblood is better than marrying a Parkinson. Remember that.”

“I was intoxicated,” Lucius said shortly, narrowing his eyes

“Don't worry because we won't be getting married or having kids,” Hermione interuptted, her cheeks flushing. “Well technically we already have but in reality-”

Draco smirked evily. “I don't know Granger, I wouldn't mind having bushy haired buck toothed kids running around the mano-”

Hermione kicked him hard in the shin and he grimaced with pain before scowling at her.

“Despite the differences between your father and I,” Narcissa said. “It is your birthday tomorrow. I remember, me and Blaise's mother were pregnant at the same time. Who would've thought that you two would be born two days apart?”

“As touching as that is mum, I have to go practice before the game tonight,”Draco said, desperate to escape the dinner fiasco. “I'm captain and I need to make sure that my team is prepared.”

“Alright,” Narcissa said brightly. “We'll unpack and see you at the game, Draco.”

Dinner was quickly wrapped up by the House Elves and when Narcissa, Antonio, and Lucius didn't leave, it finally dawned on Hermione where they were staying.

“Malfoy!” she hissed, pulling him aside as Narcissa and Lucius began arguing again. “Don't tell me that everyone is staying here.”

He smirked at her. “Happy family reunion Granger.”


This game, one of the first ones of the year, had drawn a crowd bigger than any Hogwarts had seen before. The stands were completely full and the stadium was drowned in the sound of a collective roaring voice, made up of the thousands of people watching the game.

Hermione had trouble figuring out where to sit and what to wear- it felt wrong to dress Blaise in Gryffindor colors, especially when he was looking forward to cheering for his “father”, the captain of the Slytherin team. She and the other parents sat together in order to prevent splitting. Even Pansy was there, even though she had decked herself in the most obnoxious Slytherin paraphonalia possible. Apparently she had a concious though, because Seamus was in Gryffindor colors, his eyes focused only on Harry who was doing a series of dips and dives in the sky.

Blaise was cheering for Draco as loud as his little voice could.

“This is going to be intense,” Hermione muttered to Dean, who was currently a girl, at least for that day anyways.

Dean had tied gold and red ribbons in both his and Lavender's hair. “Especially since your husband is going up against Harry and Ron. Who're you rooting for?”

“Ron and Harry of course!” Hermione exclaimed. She looked down to make sure Blaise hadn't heard her- luckily he didn't.

They were her best friends, of course she would root for them and she was a Gryffindor. What Gryffindor in their right mind would support Slytherin at a Quidditch game? Hermione wished feelings were as logical as she was- as she watched Malfoy fly gracefully across the field during the practice time, she felt almost wrong for not showing him any support.

Parvati, who was sitting on the next to Dean, seemed to read her mind. “Do you feel guilty at all?”

Hermione shrugged, trying to swallow the guilt before she lied about not having any. “No. I mean, do you think Malfoy wants me to root for him? We hate eachother!”

“Maybe,” the dark haired girl answered.

“Should I be rooting for him?” Hermione asked, her reserve slipping. “Look at Pansy- she's got a big snake hat on!”

“Well Harry didn't find Seamus and rescue her from potential death by a werewolf,” Neville said non-chalantly, his eyes entirely focused on the practice round.

“Just because he did something decent for once doesn't mean I have to wave a Slytherin flag at a Quidditch game,” Hermione reasoned though her logic was faltering. “Right? Is it wrong of me to not show any suport?”

They all looked at her silently for a moment before Parvati said quickly, “No no! Thats not it. Look at it this way- if you were the one playing Quidditch, would Malfoy root for you?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Of course not!”

“Well thats your answer,” Parvati said. “Unless, of course, he was silently expecting you to support him and will be tremendously hurt if you don't- in which case, he'll probably be snappy or even more vile to you than before.”

“I doubt that Malfoy of all people would be dissapointed if I didn't support him at a Quidditch game.”

“You're probably right,” Parvati said with a nod.

Something still didn't sit right with Hermione and it bothered her, even once the teams had left the field to their respective locker rooms for one more meeting. Thinking back on it, she hadn't even told him good luck...they weren't friends but she could tolerate him and he could tolerate her.

Eventually her guilt hit her like a hippogriff.

“Parvati, could you do me a favor and watch Blaise for a second. I er...have to do something real quick.”

They all watched her leave in a hurry, pushing her way through the immense crowd of students.

“Where's Granger going?” Pansy asked.

Everyone shrugged and thought nothing more of it.

Hermione managed to get off the stands rather quickly and she was on her way to the locker rooms. Lucky for her, she didn't encounter anyway as she ran to reach the teams before the game really started She couldn't believe that she was actually searching Malfoy out, all just to say...

“Granger?” came a voice from behind her. Hermione turned around to see Draco, dressed in all his Quidditch gear with his broom in hand. If she'd been any other girl in school, she would've swooned at the sight of him.

“What're you doing down here? Aren't you supposed to be watching Potty and Weaselbee from the stands?”

“Look,” she said. “If I didn't come and say this to you, I would've felt guilty through the entire game.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “And what was that exactly?'

She took a deep breath before saying, “Good luck.”

He blinked. There was an awkward pause as they just looked at eachother. Hermione colored with embarssment before snapping, “Well say something!”

“You're wishing me luck,” he repeated with a smirk.


“Even though I'm playing against your mentally handicapped friends?”

“Ye- look don't make this any harder Malfoy! I just...wanted to wish you luck. And don't get hurt either, I'm not going to heal you again, you dolt.”

“So thats it?”

“Yes Malfoy,” Hermione said, exasperated. “I can take my 'good luck' back you know.”

He stared at her a moment longer, so long that it almost made Hermione uncomfortable. He took a step towards her and she instinctively took a step back. She saw something flash in his eyes, an emotion that she couldn't identify.

“Are you afraid of me Granger?”

She raised her chin stubbornly. “You wish Malfoy.”

Draco took another step forward but Hermione forced herself to stand her ground, even when he took another step and another and another...

He reached out a hand and again, she pulled away from him, narrowing her eyes. “What're you playing at Malfoy? Another one of your mind games to drive me crazy?”

“Its not a mind game Granger.” Draco paused, seaching her eyes with his own. “After all of this, you haven't changed the way you look at me, have you?”

Hermione heard something in his voice that made her want to say that she did, that he was completely changed in her eyes from what he was before, that she had dreams about him that she forced herself to forget...

But the rational part of her mind, the part she valued so highly warned her that there was no possible way Draco Malfoy cared about what she thought...

It was her rationale which forced her to utter, “No.”

His eyes locked with hers a moment longer before he swiftly turned on his heel and began to walk away towards the entrance.

“Malfoy wait!” she called after him. “I didn't mean-”

“Fuck off Granger,” he snarled, making her recoil the hand she'd reached out to stop him from leaving. Those three words cut her deeper than she would ever admit.

She began softly, “Malfoy really-”

“I could care less either way.” And he kicked off, ascending into the sky.

Suddenly past conversations flooded her mind.

“Malfoy, lets just go back to hating eachother,” she said. “Being civil causes too many problems.”....

“Granger I could care less either way...”

and that morning...

“... Not that its any of your business mudblood but Draco's birthday is tomorrow.”

“Oh...I didn't-”

“Don't Granger I could care less either way.”

The guilt she felt sitting in the stands returned but multiplied ten-fold. Parvati was right- he was hurt when he said he could care less. Like her, he lied to protect himself. Could she blame him? Was their relationship, if you could call it that, even stable enough for them to be remotely honest with each other? What were they? Partners, acquaintances, enemies, parents...? Because Hermione couldn't categorize it, she was confused as hell.

Through Blaise, she had learned more about him than she ever thought she would and maybe without her really realizing it, he had learned more about her.

Did she want to take the first step...towards him?

With all of this on her mind, she made her way back to her seats with extreme difficulty since the game had already started and everyone was on their feet. Lee Jordan had returned as commentator for the first game.

“Oh and Ginny Weasley, what a firecracker, scores for Gryffindor! The Slytherins shouldn't take it too hard, they were going to loose from the start anyway.”

Boos erupted from the Slytherin side as the Gryffindors cheered.

“Where'd you go?” Dean asked as Hermione struggled past him to sit down.

“No where,” she sighed. Blaise scrambled from Parvati to come back to her and they sat, both cheering.

They had excellent seats, the first row, and were the closest to the action of the game.

It was only thirty minutes in before the snitch was sighted. Everyone watched in fascination as Harry and Draco weaved in and out in pursuit of the snitch. Draco was flying with a ferocity no one had seen before and actually managed to go faster than Harry. They were neck and neck when suddenly the snitch took an abrupt turn and flew upwards. Harry almost lost stability on his broom, losing speed as Draco accelerated.

The snitch flew into the clouds and both boys followed- nothing could be seen or heard for at least ten minutes.

“I wonder whats going on?” Hermione said, using Dean's binoculars to try to see past the clouds.

“Hermione look!” Dean said suddenly, pointing to something next to her.

She turned her head and there was the snitch, hovering right beside her as if it was taking a break and waiting for the seekers to catch up. She'd never really seen one up close before .

Suddenly she saw Harry break from the clouds, speeding towards her. She smiled, wanting to scream but not wanting to disturb the snitch from its peaceful position beside her head.

What she didn't see was the bludger Crabbe had aimed at Harry which, anticipating his route, was heading straight for Hermione and the snitch...

What she didn't see was Draco, who'd come up from behind the stands. He was racing towards the snitch, much closer than Harry was...

She did see the bludger though when people began screaming, as it hurtled towards her faster than anything she'd ever seen, straight for her head. It was like Moondales all over again, knowing the hex was coming for her and having no power to stop it. She didn't close her eyes...

She did see Draco, so close to the snitch as he flew up beside her, watched his hand reach for it but suddenly he retracted it as he caught sight of the bludger and in the blink of an eye, he threw himself in front of Hermione.

And she did see Draco, watched in horror as the bludger connected with the side of his head, throwing him off of his broom, plumetting down, down, down...

She screamed his name, reaching for him as he fell though she had no chance of catching him, watched his body tumble in the gales of the wind in a macabre dance until finally he hit the ground with so much force, there was an audible crunch.

Hermione didn't remember much after that. But she did remember pushing all of the gaping, stunned spectators out of her way as she ran to the stairs leading to the pitch, remembered cradling Draco's bloody head in her lap, his face unrecognizable beneath the carnage and blood, remembered Narcissa and Lucius rushing up beside her, Lucius screaming for someone to help as he watched his son dying in a mudblood's arms...

It was all a haze.

As she watched Draco being carried away on a stretcher, his body limp and lifeless, she felt something inside her break.


Chapter 11: The Death of a Snake
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The Death of a Snake

Will you say to them when I'm gone,
I loved your son for his sturdy arms
We both learned to cradle and live without...
Live without...

-Naked as They Came, Iron and Wine

The funeral took place the next day. It was small at the request of a devastated Blaise whose face crumpling with tears moved even Lucius’ stony heart. Again at Blaise’s request, the small funeral party were all dressed in green, a bitter pill Hermione, Harry, and Ron had to swallow for the satisfaction of the little boy. There were only eleven of them- Lucius, Narcissa, Blaise, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle,Snape, and last but not least Dumbledore.

The Headmaster spoke, dressed in resplendent emerald robes which billowed gently in the wind, as the body was lowered into the ground. His speech was short and simple, but nonetheless emotionally moving.

Blaise burst into tears as the soil covered the boxed corpse and buried his head into Hermione’s side. Though she had been resolved to be as emotionally detached as possible, she found herself tearing up, mainly because of the crying child beside her.

Dumbledore ended the service with a prayer in Latin, at the end of which a burst of green flames erupted from the place of burial.

As everyone turned away to walk back to the castle, a flash of lightening cracked against the darkening sky and heavy rain began to fall on Hogwarts.

“I miss him,” Blaise said softly as they huddled together on the couch. Hermione responded by stroking his hair, her eyes focused on the cackling fire in the hearth.

Draco Malfoy.

“When is he coming back?” Blaise asked, turning his large violet eyes up to watch her face.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wouldn’t be.

“Blaise I think its time for bed, sweetheart.”

For once Blaise didn't protest and held her hand as she led him to his room. Hermione tucked him into his bed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before softly walking out, closing the door.

She sighed, pressing a shaking hand to her forehead before making the decision she'd been thinking about since that morning.

Making sure Blaise had fallen asleep, Hermione quietly slipped from the house, disturbing not even the portrait.

When Draco woke up it was completelty dark outside. He groaned as he slowly elevated himself into a sitting position, feeling the pain of his injuries full force.

“Bugger,” he muttered, pressing his hand against his head as a pounding headache tore through his brain.

“Don't over exert yourself,” came a soft feminine voice from beside him.

Draco turned his head to see Hermione, her face illuminated by the lit candle on the nightstand beside the bed. Her face looked tired with dark bags under her bloodshot eyes, her hair carelessly pulled back into a loose ponytail.

“What happened?” he said, his voice rough with pain and sleep.

“You don't remember?” Hermione asked, her eyes widening in panic. Had he lost his memories? “You don't remember the bludger?”

“I meant to you,”he said with a devilish smirk. “You look like hell”

“You should see yourself,” Hermione said, smiling with relief. “What were you thinking? Pulling a stunt like that and almost getting yourself killed!”

“No big deal Granger,” Draco replied. He cocked his head as he got a better look at her. “Merlin Granger, were you crying?”

“No I wasn't! And no big deal? Your face was completely smashed in on one side, you had a broken back, broken hip, a sprained arm, a concussion, and severe blood loss.”

“My face?” he said with immediate alarm.

Hermione rolled her eyes, still smiling in amusement. “After all of that, thats the only thing you care about?” She paused before handing him a small mirror. “Look. It took a lot of work to get you looking back to normal...well almost.”

Draco took the mirror, examining his face. To his great relief, his face was fine, he had a black eye still and bruising on the side of his face where the bludger hit him. His nose had been broken and while it was healed, it was slightly crooked. As he turned his head in the mirror, he decided he liked his new nose- it gave him a more rougish look and prevented him from looking so effeminant.

“You're so arrogant,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“Like the new nose Granger?” he asked with devilish smirk, ignoring her insult. “Looks good, doesn't it?”

“No,” she snapped though she knew he could tell she was lying.

Draco had been handsome before, in an androgynous, ethereal kind of way. With his broken nose, he looked dashing and perhaps even more handsome- he didn't look as pretty and he reminded her of a bit of Sirius, when he was young.

“What day is it?”

“Well its almost eleven o'clock. Your birthday was yesterday.” She paused. “You missed the funeral- Blaise's pet snake died yesterday night. He's been really upset.

After looking around, he realized his bed was surrounded with flowers and gifts.

“Lionel died?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. “Thats...unfortunate. But one question Granger- its past curfew so what're you doing here?”

Hermione flushed. “I er...snuck back in. I was hoping you'd wake up before the day ended.”

“Now why would you do that?” Draco asked tauntingly, raising an eyebrow. “Saint Granger breaking school rules? What would McGonagall say?”

“What she doesn't know won't hurt her,” Hermione replied.

He smirked. “You're becoming more and more Slytherin everyday.”

“I'm not!” she denied vehemently. She pasued, sighing. “I felt guilty Malfoy okay? Why did you take the bludger hit for me?”

She watched him stiffen, though to an untrained eye it was inperceptable.

“I was protecting Blaise,” Draco finally said. “If you'd gotten hurt he would've been devestated-”

“Cut the crap Malfoy,” Hermione said though her voice was soft. “I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I didn't mean it, I just...I don't know what we are...”

Draco was looking at her, his gaze so intense that Hermione felt a tingling go throughout her entire body. “Does it really matter Granger? You never seemed one for labels.”

“I'm confused Malfoy. One minute we're at eachothers throats, the next...” she trailed off flushing, not sure if she wanted to bring up their kiss. Well, kisses.

“Because Granger,” he replied moving forward towards her on the bed, “You're always talking and never listening. For all your genius, you're helpess when it comes to reading between the lines.”

“Maybe you need to help me out,” Hermione answered, finding herself involuntarily moving towards him in the candlelight.

“I don't think I can make it much more clear,” Draco said, his voice deep and hypnotic. Hermione found herself swallowed by his heated gaze. “I'm a jealous man Granger- taking a vow to keep you from Krum was nothing if it meant you being mine.”

Hermione should've objected to being viewed as some sort of possesion. But with him looking at her like that, she didn't think she could object to anything coming from his mouth at the moment.

“And the bludger?” she breathed.

“That should be obvious.”

“We're supposed to hate eachother,” she said matter of factly.

“I was never one to follow rules. And from your little break in tonight, its obvious you aren't either, no matter the pretense you put on.”

“I just...there are some things that have to be done despite rules.”

“Which includes coming to see me,” he finished with a smirk which made her cheeks flush a deeper shade of scarlet.

“Well we are married,” Hermione answered sarcatically. “I'm supposed to come see you.”

It always seemed to happen the same way- Draco's swift movements would be totally unnoticed by Hermione until she felt herself melt in his grasp, his arm curled around her waist as his other cupped the back of her head. She felt paralyzed, the heat from his hands seeping into her skin, infecting her like a toxin which made her his willing prey.

“No,” he said softly, his lips brushing against hers making her shudder. “Not because you were supposed to. Because you wanted to. Denial won't work with me Granger, I can read you like an open book.”

Hermione couldn't speak with him this close to her, her words at a loss as she opened her mouth to answer. “Malfoy this isn't-”

“Granger do me a favor and stop thinking so much.” Draco brought her closer, crushing her against his hard chest as he traced the shell of her ear with his lips. His breath tickled her skin making her hair stand on end. “This would be so much easier if you would stop analyzing everything.”

Hermione took a shuddering breath, meeting his gaze. “Okay.”

“I'll ask only once. Are you ready?”

She needed no clarification. She opened her mouth and answered softly, “Yes.”

The word had barely pased through her lips before his mouth descended on hers, stealing her breath away.

She never would've thought that Draco Malfoy, of all people, would be kissing her like this. She thought briefly, as his hand slid into her hair releasing it before wrapping his fingers in her tresses, what people would say, the different ways Lucius would try to kill her, what Harry and Ron would do to Draco once they found out.

But with him kissing her like this Hermione couldn't bring herself to care.

As they parted, his lips traveling from her mouth to press a tender kiss to her forehead, she inwardly sighed content in the warmth of Draco Malfoy's arms, thinking of nothing, not the morning or the day which would follow or if they even knew eachother well enough to make this inane relationship work.

Hermione let go, of all her inhibitions and fears and expectations, and felt his heart beat against hers as they both slowly fell asleep to the sound of the pounding rain outside.

But the morning afters are always more sobering than the night befores.