Hermione wanted to die on the spot. She couldn’t be. She can’t be pregnant. The baby…a baby boy… She unconsciously placed her hand over her stomach. There was a little Draco in her… And as cute as that sounded, she’ll be damned. She doesn’t even know how Draco would react. It was an out of body experience for her as the Healer gave her potions and recipes to keep the baby healthy. Healer Bracken seemed more thrilled than Hermione herself and by the end of it, Hermione crashed back to reality. Shit… she slipped out of the hospital without the Death Eater’s notice.



Draco looked up from the files on his desk at his mother. She smiled slightly, taking her seat on the other side of the desk and pulled her leather gloves off. “Mum,” he said carefully, eyeing her. “What’s wrong?”

“Draco,” she said urgently. “You and Hermione should leave.”

What?” he asked in surprised. He leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at his mother.

“Listen, after what happened to you several times and now with what happened in Bulgaria, things have become too dangerous. I am worried for your life. For hers. You must leave. Go to America. They won’t judge you two or your marriage.”

“Mum, be realistic please—”

“What if you two have children?”

“We’re not having children,” he growled.

“What if—”

He slammed his balled fist on the desk, sending a quake of anger. “We. Are. Not. Having. Children.”

“Draco!” she snapped harshly that he was even taken back. “Stop with your child-ness. Be an adult and be realistic. Both of you are having sex. We all fucking know it. I hear her moans sometimes from across the fucking manor.”

Draco swallowed, listening to his mother. She never cursed. Ever. She was serious and furious.

“So, don’t kid anyone that you aren’t doing anything that could result in children.”

“Mum, she on the—er—potion,” he replied awkwardly.

“Are you so sure about that? Wasn’t she a virgin before you?”

His face immediately fell as his heart broke into the artic of his stomach. Shit…he thought. SHIT!

“That’s what I thought. You can be a thoughtless sometimes, Draco. My son!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in disappointment.

“Mum, I’m positive she is,” he said with little confidence in his voice. “I’ll speak to her later.”

“Fine,” she hissed. “Be stubborn. But the fact of the matter is that if is she pregnant, your father…won’t be too happy.”

That was an understatement. He knew it.

“What are you to do then, Draco? Oh, trust me. I want grandchildren and I am sure Hermione will be ready for children if this is a possibility. You, on the other hand, I know you won’t be. And I am not saying this because you are too young or you don’t love her or you’re immature. I do not think you will be able to handle what is going on in this world while protecting your family.”

He imagined himself going rogue to protect his everything: Hermione and a possible little one. A boy. Blond hair, brown eyes just like his mother’s. Eyes he knew that would hold his entire world and be his weakness. Draco burying his face in one hand, his elbow propped up on the desk, his breath showing his panic.

“I suggest you leave. You cannot build a family here. Not the way we are all living.”

He looked up from his hand into his mother’s eyes.

“The baby will be half-blood…” she said.

Draco felt as the entire world came to a halt.

“The last line of the Malfoy’s blood purity will end with you.”

“I don’t care,” he growled.

“I don’t either!” Narcissa snapped. “With both of your looks and brains, your determination, her courage, your cleverness, her loyalty, the baby will the best person to grace the world.”

Draco bit down on his bottom lip to keep in from trembling.

“But you think your father would think that? No! He would hate the child more than any Muggle he has ever met. Because a Malfoy? One that isn’t pure? That’s a demon to him.”

He jumped onto his feet and rushed to the door, opening it. He had to find Hermione. His heart almost broke free as he stumbled forward in a daze.

“Excuse me, sir! These files need a look at…”

Fuck, he couldn’t get to her just yet.


Hermione wandered aimlessly through the Muggle crowds of London, lost in her thoughts as she constantly brushed her fingers against her stomach. There was a little Malfoy somewhere in there. She wondered about his hair. Would he have his father’s hair? She wondered about his eyes. Would he have his father’s eyes? Then an eerie flash of a blond little boy, confused about what his father, Lucius was telling him about blood purity and prejudices came into her mind. She wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach. She didn’t want the little boy in her to know of the evils of the world. Not about Death Eaters. Not about her history. Or his father’s history. Not about silly things like blood purity. There was no way, a child could be raised in this world, not the way it is now. She felt a hand grab her as she panicked, pulling away from its grasp. She twirled around, her hand over her stomach and the other with the wand.

“Rabastan!” she gasped. “Oh…Merlin.”

“I gave you a fright?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Uh, well yes,” Hermione breathed, turning to walk and tucking her wand away as people weirdly glanced at her. He tuned into her step.

“Well, you think you’re so clever to slip Death Eaters.”

“Why couldn’t you just follow me in silence like you use to?” she asked irritability.

“I think we’ve come to a point where we are close so I can face you head on.”

She snorted, “Okay.” She then sighed, “Thanks though… For saving me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I couldn’t help Draco… It was my fault. If I would have not saved Algernon, that bastard, I could have gotten to Draco on time and left the cabin with him and you wouldn’t have to enter.”

“It really isn’t your fault…”

“I suppose…”

“Anyway, I’m heading into this little restaurant. Bye.”

“Oh, no,” he smirked, pulling her into a halt by grabbing her arm. “You are not escaping me. Do you realize how much you mean to Draco?”

“Are you on Lucius’ orders? Draco’s? Or your own.” 

“On my own orders for my concern about how Draco would feel if he lost you and to pretend to upkeep my orders from Lucius and my brother.”

“Psssh!” she scoffed. “Draco told me you like me. I don’t want to have another Blaise Zabini incident, thank you, but no thanks. Mind you, your ages older than me.”

He chuckled, “I suppose. But there isn’t anything like a young woman. Fresh.” He smiled wickedly. “But that’s not the reason. I admire you, yes… I’m surprised though Draco didn’t throw out orders to keep me away from you if he knew that.”

“He trusts you for some odd reason.”

“Good because above all, I am here to keep you safe… And I respect him more than my crush for you.”

“Uh-huh. Blaise started out as a crush and he became all warped and kidnapped me and—”

“I know, Hermione. But I am being honest… For example, I am trying to keep you from entering that little restaurant for your own protection.”


“Because Evelyn is in there. And I am not sure how she would react to you.”

Ev—Evelyn?” Hermione ran in the restaurant with Rabastan growling behind her about how Draco can even keep up with “this one” and her cursed traits of curiosity and impulsive bravery. Hermione saw Evelyn come around the corner from a small hallway in a black slacks and button-up with an apron hanging loosely around her hip. She stilled at seeing Hermione. Fidgety, she came over with her head bowed.

“Please, please,” she begged and when she looked up, her eyes were brimmed with tears. “Don’t tell Draco—Mr. Malfoy, I mean…that I am here. He told me to flee the country and I didn’t. I just came to live among the Muggles… Please…”

“Why… Why? Why would you kidnap me?” hissed Hermione. “Do you know how psychotic that is? How selfish?”

Evelyn shrugged apologetically. “Listen, it wasn’t personal. I wanted Draco. I mean, come on, an older woman like me to be wanted by a man so young and with such a curve to his—you know…he was awfully good in bed… My body just carves him when I think about it… Oh, I am so—so sorry for speaking about your husband like that. Sorry…” She bowed her head again.

Hermione shook her head, unsettled by the thought of Draco being with another woman like that. She felt Rabastan squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. Hermione shot a disgusted look at Evelyn and stormed out. Rabastan quickly followed after her into a small ally.

“Don’t like the fact that your husband was a man whore?”

“Shut it!” she called behind her.

“You’re pretty emotional, aren’t you?”

She stopped in her tracks and looked up at the strip of stormy sky that was not blocked by the building towering on both sides of her. She sighed shakily.

“Hey, come on. Let’s just get back to the Manor before Evelyn changes her mind and runs out her, cursing us both, eh?”

She looked down and turned to face Rabastan. “You’re nothing like Lucius or your brother.”

He shook his head. “No I am not.”


He shrugged, “Don’t get me wrong, I believe in hierarchy. Muggles and Muggle-borns belong on the bottom and pure-bloods belong in power. But…there are some people who sometimes you realize that make you stray from those beliefs even if it’s for a second.”

“What was her name?” asked Hermione, knowing all too well.

“Don’t worry,” he replied with a smirk. “It was a complicated time in my life that I really prefer not to reminisce… Anyway, let’s go.”

“What happened to her?”

He stepped toward Hermione. “Let’s go.”

“When was this?”

“We’re going.”

He grabbed her wrist and she felt the familiar tug on her stomach and was outside the Manor’s gates. Rabastan gave her a quick smile before disappearing into thin air. She sighed and head into the Manor for some green tea. His words echoed in her head, “But…there are some people who sometimes you realize that make you stray from those beliefs even if it’s for a second.” She wondered if that was Draco… Did he stray from his own beliefs? Hell, he admitted he loved her. He obviously already had. Then, she wondered if he would be okay with a half-blood child, would he be able to love him, the baby boy inside of her. She remembered in bed on Christmas night, he said he would, but how would she know if there was any truth to his words? She sat at the dining room table, sipping her tea, lost in her thoughts, lost in time. The sun dipped out of sight and the moon rose to power over the sky as its light slipped into the dining room without her noticing and the whole Manor darkening with nightfall.

Draco heard a small sound in the dining room as he was about to past it, but instead headed in there. He squinted into the darkness and the figure came clearer as the clouds passed by the moon, unblocking its light.

“Hermione?” he called.

She jumped from fright, turning. “Oh, Draco,” she breathed. “It’s you.”

“Yeah… I think we need to talk…”

“Yeah, I think so too,” she whispered.

He moved to the opposite side of the dining table, eyeing her warily. He sat down with an unsettling feeling rumbling in him. “What are you doing here? At this time? It’s late. I thought you’d be in bed…”

She just shook her head.

“So—er—yeah, we need to talk.”

“Draco…,” she said quickly. “I’m pregnant.”

The dining chair clattered as he jumped out of it and literally ran. He ran as fast and as far away as he could. 

A/N: Um…please don’t chase after Draco with swinging clubs.

Anyway, now you got to see how Draco feels, not too good is it? Also, the part with Evelyn, you might think it is 100% unimportant, but that scene is like a stepping stone for something else =X

Okay, that’s it =D Please review <3 

Track This Story:    Feed


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!