She wanted to live in his arms forever and survive off of nothing but the sweet taste of his mouth. She wanted the world to fade away and leave her alone with him until the ends of time. She wanted the sun to go out and the only light in her life be the glowing silver of his gaze. She wanted all sound to vanish so that all the music she could know was the sound of his voice. She wanted all the heat to disappear so that his body could warm every centimeter of her exposed flesh. She wanted all sensations to be overridden with only the kind that he could produce.

He was all that she needed. He was the air in her lungs, the blood in her veins, and the rhythm of her heart. He was everything.

"I love you," she murmured to him in the darkness of her bedroom.

Draco was pressing kisses up her legs, paying homage to every inch of her body with his mouth, when he heard her say it. It made him stop, freeze, but it no longer scared Hermione to think she might hear a rejection. Because she wouldn't, she knew that. Just like she knew he was getting adjusted to hearing her say it and she was adjusting to saying it aloud.

He kissed her left thigh twice before propping himself up on his forearms to stare at her. The grey in his eyes melted and shone like silver liquid in the faint light of the moon coming in through her bedroom window.

"As I do you," he replied. She smiled tenderly at him, but his gaze was now on her uncovered and protruding four-month belly. "And you."

His lips touched her stomach and she felt like she was seeing moments of unbelievable magic. Draco Malfoy was not the type of man that showed affection, that gave warmth, or that spoke gently. The world saw him as cold and distant, just as he wanted. And he was. Hermione was well aware that ice still inhabited a part of him. It didn't make him cruel, it made him a consequence. He was a consequence of war and bad choices and ignorant upbringings. She knew he struggled to leave it all behind, she lived it beside him since their partnership as Aurors started, and she knew how far he'd gotten. But that progress had not destroyed his walls; it only created cracks that she hoped one day led to his freedom behind all those barriers so he could enjoy the rays of sun.

He loved her and she was blessed that he did. Never in her life did she imagine she'd count his feelings for her as the best thing that could have happened to her, but it was. And she was lucky for it. He opened his heart and soul to allow only her in. That didn't change his attitude in regards to the world, though. So to have his silver eyes melt and glow with adoration when looking at her pregnant belly...It was fascinating.

"Do you know the gender yet?" he asked her as he traced a finger over her stomach.

She shook her head when his gaze found hers again. "No. I never went to the appointment. I thought I might allow myself a surprise."

"You don't like surprises," he knowingly inquired.

"This is different. I didn't want to know because...I didn't want to go alone. I was going to take Theo with me, but he was right when he said that sort of thing should be shared with someone more important."

Draco frowned at the mention of their old classmate.

"Do you want to know?" Hermione questioned. "We can go to Angelina and know tomorrow morning."

He glanced down for a moment to trace another line over her stomach. When he finally looked back up, Hermione saw that he put on the cold, unfeeling mask he wore on an everyday basis when he interacted with others.

"She'll know I'm the father and she'll tell the Weasleys. Are you ready for that?"

Hermione sighed. "Draco," she began quietly, "I've lied to them for two years about you, and I've kept my pregnancy hidden for four months. Trust me, no one is going to care about who the father is. Well, not in the beginning, that is."

He didn't find her last comment reassuring as she hoped he would. "Your friends hate me, Granger. They are not going to take this lightly."

"They don't hate you," she defended. "Harry is wary of you, but he sometimes can't hide how impressed he is over your work and skill as an Auror. He might not be particularly warm to you, Draco, but he does consider your reformation admirable. He just needs to get to know you."

"And the weasel?" he retorted. "What about him?"

It was her turn to frown. "Ron dislikes you, that's obvious, but he'd never interfere in my life."

"Granger, Weasley will drop you in an instant when he knows about us. You can't make excuses for the git, he's just incapable of handling certain situations when things don't go his way."

She snorted. "You're one to talk, Malfoy. You're equally as hardheaded and rash as he is."

"Don't compare me to him," Draco snapped.

She rolled her eyes. "I am going to tell them and we'll handle it accordingly," she continued. "And what about your friends? I don't doubt for a second that they're going to lose their heads when they know. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Muggle-Born Granger: a couple and expecting a child. I can already see Parkinson stampeding into your office to tell you how—"

"Pansy knows about us," the blonde cut her off, quite annoyed with her rambling already. Hermione shot her brows up in confusion and a small smirked tugged at his lips. "Not directly, at least, but she suspects something. And, oddly, the bint is never wrong. She's been hounding me about it for ages now. If she's going to be stampeding into my office, it's going to be to gloat about it."

"How does...And Blaise?" Hermione questioned instead, not letting Parkinson's somehow indirect acceptance of her and Draco together to confuse her more.

Draco's smirk grew. "He'll buy me a drink for shagging the Gryffindor Princess and knocking her up, and then he'll buy me another for pissing Potter and Weasley off in the process."

"Slytherins," huffed the brunette. "Typical."

He wanted to laugh at her scowl, but instead remained stoic when the following words left his mouth, "I'll have to tell my parents as well."

Instantly, Hermione paled as she felt her heart drop in her chest. She had forgotten about Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. That was daft of her, but she had. She had been enjoying herself with Draco for two consecutive days that the rest of the world disappeared. But reality was still waiting for her and Draco outside the walls of her bedroom. A reality that they were going to have to confront eventually, something that she was dreading.

"You're worried about them?" Draco asked.

"Of course I'm worried about them! You can't honestly say that I'm the type of girl they wanted you to end up with. Merlin, and I'm carrying your half-blood child. The odds are stacked against me."

"You seem to be under the impression that blood statuses are of importance here."

"Oh, please, Malfoy," scoffed the brunette. "Your dad turns his nose up at me every time he sees me. I wouldn't be surprised if—" She stopped talking when she noticed him glaring at her. Her insides twisted.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, though she wasn't sure on how sincere that apology was. "I know that the history between us was going to be an issue in regards to us as a couple. I just...I sort of just imagined everything would fall into place once I did tell you how I felt. I don't know. I'm sorry."

He surprised her when he said, "it's only an issue if you let it." He pressed a fleeting kiss to the home of their unborn child and then sat up on the mattress of her bed.

Hermione was about to open her mouth to say something but he didn't give her the chance.

"I went four bloody months without you, Granger," he said in a voice and a tone of sincerity that was odd for him, but that was music for her, "and I know how fucking insane and empty I felt without you. It's not something I'm willing to go through again. I'm not going to let anything or anyone get in the way of us. Are you?"

"No," her reply was instant. "Draco, I don't...I've been wishing for two years for you to love me back. It wasn't ideal then as it isn't now for others around us, but I don't care about them. I hope you believe me when I say that. I don't care about the past. I just want to be with you."

He reached for her hands and held on tightly. "Marry me, then."

Shocked didn't begin to scrape the surface of how she felt. Hermione thought her heart stopped beating and that the moon exploded outside of her bedroom window.

She gaped at Draco like he had just sprouted another head. "What?"

"Marry me," he repeated unmoved and confident. "We've been unintentionally exclusive to one another for two years and we are having a child together, marriage is the only thing missing."

"No!" she interjected, yanking her hands away. She maneuvered her way off the bed, which looked incredibly ungraceful given that her mass had expanded somewhat as a result of her pregnancy.

He didn't move as he passively watched her gather a clothing item off from the floor.

"Draco, no. Just no," she huffed out at him again, looking thoroughly displeased. "Don't you dare propose to me because I'm pregnant. I told you, I don't want you to think you're trapped with me because of this."

His grey eyes rolled with irritation at her direction. "Granger, I am trapped. I've been fucking trapped for longer than two years. I love you—you out of all the women on earth. And no one fucking compares. No one is like you. So, yes, I'm trapped because loving you seems to me like forever. And marriage is a promise for eternity."

Hermione damned him as tears welled in her brown eyes.

"I've never been in love before," he spoke again from her bed. "You're my first love, Granger. Fucking twenty-six years old, and you are my first love. What does that say about me and you? I'll tell you," he added before she could even think that he was going to allow her to answer his question. She was smart, the bloody smartest person on earth, but she didn't know absolutely everything. "I don't feel anything for people other than some form of affection. I care about Blaise and Pansy, they are my closest friends, but it's not concrete. It's harsh, but it's instilled when you're taught not to let people in. I care for my parents, I respect them, but in a form I am also detached. Call it a consequence of their bad parenting.

"But you, Granger? I love you. I know that because you're the only person in this entire fucking world that matters; the only person I want to see every moment of the day, the only person who can make me think that I could be someone worthwhile, someone worth loving back, and because of that baby. Our baby. You're giving me something pure and whole. You're giving me a piece of you and mixing it with a piece of me. You're my purpose, Granger."

The tears that Hermione had been holding in fell, tracing down her cheeks and down her neck and disappearing into her skin. She looked back at Draco glowing in the moonlight, looking breathtakingly handsome, and she couldn't believe they found themselves there. In that very moment, in that very place where she used to dream in her sleep about hearing him say the exact words he just had. It was impossible, a complete twist of fate, but it was all hers. He was all hers. His heart was hers and that was the rarest thing she will ever be gifted with.

Hermione had been in love before, but what she felt then was almost meaningless to what she now felt for Draco. She'd known comfortable love, the kind that becomes mundane after a few passing months, but with him, with Draco her heart was always on fire. Her soul was always singing, her body was always wanting, and her mind was always creating. She couldn't see how she could ever be without that.

"Yes," she said as she walked to him, tears (happy, overjoyed tears) still falling, "I'll marry you."

                                                                           XXXXXXXXXXX

When Harry and Ginny Potter received an owl informing them of their friend's impending visit, they were prepared for her arrival with hugs, kisses, tea and biscuits.

They had not seen Hermione since she was let out of St. Mungo's, which happened to be three days prior, and were now over the moon that she was done resting and ready to interact with her friends. It went without saying, of course, that Harry had not been okay with leaving Hermione alone, he needed to make sure that she was safe, that the Ivan Romanoff and inferi raid had not caused her any stress or old nightmares, but the brunette was stubborn. Harry had grown angry that Hermione's choice was to reject their company, but Ginny had rudely reminded him that in the past when Harry wanted to be alone after an awful experience he would practically chew anyone's head off if they bothered him. With that, Harry resigned; not without sending three owls until Hermione finally responded to give evidence of her well-being.

When she finally made contact with them she ambiguously stated that she had something important she needed to discuss with Harry, Ginny and Ron, but no one expected what she actually meant.

"I'm confused," Ron was the first one to speak after five minutes of thick, cringing silence. "I thought we hate Malfoy? In fact, I was under the impression you hate Malfoy, 'Mione."

"I don't hate him," muttered the brunette to her ex-boyfriend. "Why would I hate him?"

"Because he's a foul little—"

"I told you, I'm seeing Draco now," Hermione cut Ron off as soon as she felt the blonde man sitting next to her grow rigid. Two years of stripping Malfoy out of his clothes and watching him clothe himself after they were done rendezvousing left Hermione with perfect knowledge of which pocket Draco kept his wand in. Currently, the blonde's right fist found its way dangerously close to his right pocket. "I've been seeing him, actually. Two years now."

Ron leaned far away from them with a dumbfounded expression, the wheels in his head turning as to process every single way he could possibly interpret Hermione's blurt without it meaning what she intended it to mean. Harry choked on his tea and his emerald eyes went agape behind his famous glasses. Ginny, who was sat in between her brother and her husband, gasped loudly and was quick to jump onto her feet.

"I knew it!" the new Mrs. Potter exclaimed. "I bloody well knew it! Ha!"

Hermione frowned. "How did you—?"

"Oh, please," snorted Ginny as she grinned largely. She put her hands on her waist, inspecting the couple sitting on the couch across from her with a cheeky expression and some arrogance. "I've known since before you two knew it. Merlin, I've been betting on how long it would take you two to finally say something. Thanks for being right on time, by the way. Pansy owes me big."

"Parkinson?!" Hermione looked instantly outraged. "You made a bet with Parkinson about Draco and I?"

The redhead stared calmly back at her friend. "Hermione, everyone bloody knew about you and Malfoy. Two Aurors from your department, Mister Chapman from the cafe around the corner of the Ministry, and Kingsley were actually the ones to start the bet. Pansy and I can't take all the credit for it. Oh! And Luna. Luna knew, too. She's reading tea-leaves now or something and she owled me a year ago to inform me of the happy union."

Everyone was staring at Ginny with incredulous expressions, all except for Draco Malfoy who looked torn between being annoyed with Potter's wife or somewhat entertained by the idea that there were people out there who could actually see him with Granger and not combust.

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her back down onto her seat. "Hermione," he called with uncertainty, "for two years? You've been seeing Malfoy for two years? You can't be serious."

"We were actually sleeping together for two years," offered Draco. "It recently got serious when I asked her to marry me."

Hermione buried her face between her palms.

Ron rose from his seat in a flash, and in another moment his wand was out of his pocket and he was pointing it forward. Alike the color of his hair, his face was bright red and his hands shook. His eyes were filled with hate and anger. He was ready to curse the blonde man before him, but Ginny yanked his wand away from his fingers and glared at him.

"Not in my house," she warned her brother. "If you break something, I'll break your neck. It's that simple. Sit."

Turning away from giving her own glare to Malfoy, who she knew said what he said simply to piss off her friends, Hermione glanced shyly and slightly determined at Harry. With a deep breath to summon her courage she said, "Yes, I was sleeping with him for two years. And considering that I thought it was only ever going to be just that, I didn't see why there was a need to tell any of you about it." Ginny frowned, but Hermione cut across her before she could protest. "It was my private life and I had every bit of right to keep it to myself. But...But it's much more than that now. And not just because we are getting married."

With everyone's attention on her, Hermione rose to her feet. She undid the buttons of her black coat and slipped it off. Once she handed her coat to Draco for holding, not after taking out her wand from its pocket, she waved it over herself while muttering "Finite Incantatem," to end the charm that hid her secret.

Right before their eyes, Hermione's clothed belly expanded.

Ron's burning anger transformed into massive shock, turning his face pale and his eyes gawked at his friend's change in appearance. Harry, alike Ron, stared back in shock but managed to not fall off his seat like the latter. Ginny's hands went to cover her mouth as she stared with wide eyes, too.

"I'm four months pregnant," she informed them with a tiny voice. "I...I know that I should've...I was wrong in keeping it from you lot, but...but I was wrong about a lot of things. I was scared so I hid it. Not out of shame, not out of regret, but because I didn't want Draco to know. I thought that...Well, I thought what we had was just sex and I didn't want him to stay because I was pregnant...Nothing went accordingly, though. And...I'm stupid. I handled this all wrong. I hurt him, I hurt myself, and I lied to you. I'm sorry."

Tears formed in Ginny's eyes as she slowly lowered her palms away from her mouth. She stared at Hermione's lovely belly and she immediately felt immense love for the little creature inside there. Hermione was her sister, she had been for so many years, and it was only fit that Ginny felt adoration for Hermione's unborn child like it was her family, too.

Ginny had been just about to inform Hermione of that when she was cut off by her husband.

"I'm so stupid," Harry uttered, a frown creasing his forehead. He stared at Hermione and Malfoy and thought thoroughly of all the time he'd been in the same room with both of them and missed the clues of their abnormal relationship.

It'd been hate from the very beginning that fueled Hermione and Malfoy, Harry knew that. Hell, everyone knew that. No one in the Auror department wanted to be around the two. They were lethal, ready not just to take on each other but anyone else that crossed their path. Much of that didn't change, not even after Kingsley ordered them to be civil with one another or he'd sack them. But then one day hate turned to indifference and indifference turned to sincere companionship. Harry had never mentioned it to Hermione, there was no need to because he wanted his best friend to accept Malfoy; together they were brilliant for the department and Harry could not deny that there was no one else more capable (aside from himself or Ron) in protecting Hermione during raids than Malfoy.

That companionship he saw between them slowly melted into something more. Comfort and happiness was there; Harry had been too blind to see it when it happened, but it was there. It had been there. Hermione started sitting next to Malfoy, not just in the cafeteria of their department, but whenever there were Auror meetings, in the sitting plans of the Remembrance Balls, when they went to lunch, or they stood beside one another when the moment presented itself. Hermione always leaned closer to Malfoy and he to her as well; like their auras were meshing and neither knew where their personal spaces began or ended.

Hermione always knew when Malfoy was about to arrive into their presence, Harry could recall that now, too. Whenever he and Hermione were surrounded by paperwork or files, she was always stressed and angry, focused and stubborn, but a few seconds before Malfoy would come in a smile would ghost over her mouth. Then her eyes would glow like the sun when he marched in; their eyes connecting and something disturbingly intimate would always pass between them.

Then there was the way Malfoy looked at Hermione that Harry completely misjudged. Harry thought Malfoy was getting used to Hermione, thinking of her as a friend and capable partner, but it'd been so much more than that. When he caught Malfoy staring at Hermione it was intense and possessive and adoring. He watched her like every movement she made was his, like every word she said was directed at him, and like every time she breathed it matched his. He was in tune with her. Malfoy stared at Hermione like she was the entire universe caught in the shell of a human body. He looked at Hermione like she was the stars in the sky. Malfoy saw Hermione as something unbelievable and beautiful—just like Harry looked at his beloved Ginny.

"If you knew about them," Harry turned to his wife, "why did you constantly pressure Hermione into going out with Oliver Wood?"

Ginny knitted her brows at the subject Harry brought up. "It's simple logic, actually. I thought that if Malfoy saw Hermione dating then he would man-up and just tell Hermione how he felt. Of course, I should have estimated that Malfoy doesn't work like a normal, jealous bloke, but everything worked out in the end, didn't it?"

Malfoy felt like he could have complimented Potter's wife for her scheme, but he also remembered his dire hate for her every time Granger let it slip that the redhead pressured her to go out with Wood.

While Harry looked conflicted over his wife's meddling, Ron stopped gaping dramatically at Hermione's belly and instead found her brown eyes. He was frowning, but there was also a piece of him that felt saddened about it all. She was his best friend, but he'd lie if he didn't once imagine that he'd be the one she was having her children with.

"So you love him, then?" Ron asked through his teeth.

Hermione glanced at the blonde man still on his seat, his grey eyes hardened and directed at her best friends, but when he felt her stare he looked back at her and they softened for a moment. She smiled gently before turning back to Ron.

"I do," she confidently responded, "I love him with all my heart."

"But he doesn't deserve you, 'Mione," Ron grunted back. "He'll never be good enough to have you."

"Ronald—"

The redhead raised a hand to silence Hermione's would-be retort. "But no one will ever deserve you in my book. That's the truth. Not him, not me, not anyone. I don't think there's anyone in the world that's worthy of having your heart."

Hermione bit her bottom lip for a moment. "But Draco is worth it, Ronald" she murmured, "and he has my heart. I love him and I think I always will."

Ron pressed his lips into a line and his palms fisted at his side. He gave her a nod and looked away from her. He wasn't in love with Hermione, not fully at least, but Ron stood beside his statement. It was his belief. There was no man on the surface of their world that could ever be worthy of having her. He didn't even come close, either; Ron was stubborn, an idiot, and insensitive. Malfoy was worse. There was no way in hell that he could ever accept the former Slytherin in having the girl that Ron once loved with his entire soul, not when Malfoy's insides were drenched in black.

"Hermione is our family, Malfoy," Harry's voice murdered the tensed silence that followed after Hermione and Ron's exchange. "She is everything to us. But Hermione will always do what she wants to do, none of us are stupid enough to stop her, nor do we believe we have it in ourselves to do so."

Harry rose from his seat, his eyes silently challenging Malfoy to do so, too. And the blond did. "But I will ask you to promise that you will make her happy and keep her safe no matter what. And if you were to break that vow, I'd like to remind you that I can get away with murder. It's one of the many perks of being the Chosen One."

Draco wanted to snort at that, because he knew that despite it all a part of Potter was high on a fucking hippogriff that thought him untouchable, but he couldn't ignore the obvious. Potter and the Weasleys were Hermione's only family. She loved them. If he wanted to be with her he had to be cordial with them.

"I won't hurt her," is what Draco said in order to bring on a silent pact of civility between him and Hermione's family.

Harry stretched his hand out to Malfoy. Hermione, Ginny and Ron carefully watched and waited for what came next. Four seconds passed and a deflation of hope began to take over the brunette before she saw Draco's pale hand extend and shake her best friend's in a moment of mutual acceptance.

                                                                              XXXXXXXXXXXX

The nervousness in the majestic sitting room was so thick that Samson the house-elf could see it wrap around the walls and trap his masters inside of it. Master Draco brought a girl to the manor who was responsible for such anxiety. She was very pretty, the woman; the young miss' name was Hermione, as she insisted to be called when she was introduced to Samson, but the house-elf simply could not offend the young woman with such lack of tact. Samson thought her strange yet compelling, but not because of her odd behavior, but by the light that she was. Samson could never think bad about his masters, he respected and loved his masters, but if he could allow himself the thought, Samson knew his masters had no light so he was overwhelmed with the glow of Miss Hermione.

A lot of things changed after the war in Malfoy Manor, but the darkness that lived in every wall and every tile from the Dark Lord's long visit never vanished. Samson and the other house-elves scrubbed and scrubbed until their knees bled and their hands peeled, but the darkness that once plagued the life of Samson's masters continued to stay. They wanted to change, Master Lucius and Mistress Narcissa, but so much damage had been done to rid them of their evil deeds. Master Lucius had spent three years in Azkaban paying for his mistakes, but he came back to a house with charred reminders that would never pardon him of his past doings. Mistress Narcissa tried to change the story of her beautiful manor, but no matter the change in decor, the open curtains, the flowers, or scented candles, the manor still reeked of murder and demons. Mistress Narcissa wandered the halls of her home unable to sleep during the lonely, haunted nights when Master Lucius was in prison and young Master Draco stayed away from the manor.

It remained that way for years. It saddened Samson's heart to see the ghosts of his masters' pasts still looming behind them, echoing the cries and screams of the people that died in their presence despite their efforts to leave it all behind them. With heavy regret, Samson thought that his masters and their manor were damned for all eternity to be plagued by darkness and old sins.

Then Master Draco brings in the young, pretty Miss Hermione and Samson saw the walls of the Malfoy Manor transform right before his eyes. When the couple came in through the Floo in the sitting room, Samson saw the shadows of grey slowly become memories and allow the taupe and beige paint of the walls to bloom to life and give out their intended warmth. Samson saw the morning light burst right in through the windows of the sitting room, glowing with brilliancy for the first time in ages as it touched every piece of furniture. The house-elf saw the crystal in the room glitter, the paintings become valuable, the fireplace give heat, and even the garden outside the window become vibrant green.

Miss Hermione Granger had brought life to Malfoy Manor. Samson wished the young miss could see it instead of nervously fiddling with her fingers as Master Draco spoke to his parents from across their seat on a rich brown sofa.

"Samson," called Mister Malfoy from his seat, "give me a glass of scotch."

Narcissa turned to her husband, a frown upon her classic features. "It is nine in the morning, Lucius. It's a bit early for liquor, isn't it?"

Lucius took the thick glass his house-elf had immediately handed to him. "It's never too early to drink when Draco has something to say."

Before her husband could attach his lips to the glass, Narcissa firmly took it from him without spilling the amber liquid and managing to glare with her own share of intimidating power. In that stare alone, the woman said all she needed in order for Lucius to pay attention to their son and his guest.

Narcissa asked her son to continue following the altercation.

Not without giving his father a glare of his own, Draco cleared his throat and directed his eyes at the elder witch and wizard before him with determination. "Hermione and I have been seeing each other for two years," he informed smoothly, "and certain occurrences have recently developed that now allows me to reveal this relationship to you."

If Hermione wasn't so plagued by anxiety she would have laughed at Draco's dodge in telling his parents that their relationship for two years had in fact been nothing but passionate sex with hidden wishes of love. Malfoy was so arrogant as to reveal that detail to her friends, but the git became modest in front of his proper, judging parents (typical).

"Two years is quite a long time," Narcissa carefully commented as she kept eye-contact with her son. "Pansy and Mrs. Potter estimated at least a few months."

Draco frowned. "Why are you talking to Pansy and Ginny Potter about me, Mother?"

"Draco," Narcissa's tone matched the mirth of her blue eyes, "I knew you were in love with someone before you realized it yourself. The times you would join us at the manor I saw you unstable, pensive, and sometimes unknowingly smiling to yourself. Nothing before has altered your behavior in such way that it was easy to assume that it was a matter of the heart. And since you won't talk to me about your personal affairs, I figured Pansy knew. Of course, you would never tell her directly, but I can always count on Pansy to be observant and fill me in.

"Then there's the matter of these past couple of weeks," Mrs. Malfoy continued, not allowing her son to further grow angry at her asking Pansy about him. "You were sad, Draco. I saw it in your eyes. You lost something. And when Lucius and I ran into Miss Granger a few days ago, she had the same broken-hearted expression. Everything tied together after that."

Hermione didn't know whether she should be in awe that someone like Narcissa Malfoy was capable of identifying such human emotions, especially on other people that weren't important to her. Besides that, the brunette felt somewhat ashamed that Mrs. Malfoy had noticed Draco's mood dampen and now knew that it was because of her. She would not be able to look the woman in the eye if she knew that not only had Hermione kept her pregnancy hidden from Draco, but that she lied about having a romantic relationship with as well Theodore Nott to push him away.

"Things are different between Hermione and I," Draco spoke again, unmoved by the evidence of his sadness his mother had gathered, "and I hope that our union will not be a problem for you."

Lucius stood from his seat and walked himself to the mahogany cabinet that kept his finest bottles of scotch. "You are not giving us an option, are you, Draco?" The question was redundant, so instead the others watched as the blonde wizard grabbed a new glass and poured himself liquor at a distance from his wife.

Mister Malfoy downed the drink in one swing before turning back to face the people sitting down. "Out of all the women to fall for, Draco, you fall for her? Do you have any idea what you are getting yourself into? No," he continued without a break, "of course you don't. If you would've seen the flaws of your little union you would have never gone for her. You were better off matched with someone like Astoria Greengrass."

"I don't love Astoria Greengrass," hissed Draco as he stood from his seat. He felt Hermione cringe on hers, but that barely contained him from brutally lashing out.

"Love has nothing to do with it," Lucius passively commented as he poured himself another drink. "It's not about sentiment, Draco, it's about match. You've damned yourself in believing that she is anywhere near what you are."

Hermione raised a hand to grasp Draco's, but she was late in restraining him for the latter was already striding furiously towards his father.

Draco slammed the cabinet doors closed. "I don't give a fuck about match or your fucking beliefs of blood status! Hermione is the woman I love and there's nothing anyone can do to change that!"

"It's not about her being a Muggle-Born, Draco," growled Lucius, his silver eyes narrowing dangerously to match the ones of his son. "After everything this family has been through, after the years I've served in prison, do you think I care about her blood status? To hell with her blood or anyone elses. What I care for is the way people look at you.

"You've built a brilliant career as an extraordinary Auror, but I've been there to watch and hear the whispers of mistrust this world still has for you, Draco. You can catch all the murderers in this country and redeem yourself over and over again, but they don't care. You are a Death Eater. You will always be a Death Eater to them. And falling for Miss Granger is not going to make your life easier, do you understand me? They will tear you apart once this gets out."
Draco's lips pressed tightly into a line as his father's words painfully entered his eardrums. His father had spoken aloud the fear Draco had about his relationship with Hermione from the very beginning. She was perfection, all that was good, and he would never come close to being a shadow of that. Everyone knew it.

"I will always be a Death Eater because of you." As a consequence of bringing out his fears, Draco retaliated against his father to bring out his own.
"Stop it. Stop it right now." Hermione stood from her seat, gaping at the young and old Malfoy men with outrage. She knew they had their own share of problems to fix, that there would always be a grudge held against Mister Malfoy from Draco's part and that Mister Malfoy would always carry the cross of his sins and what it had cost his son, but they were family. And Hermione would never watch idly by as a family fell apart; especially not one Draco wanted her to marry into.

She marched to the middle of the two blonde men, alternating between giving a firm stare at both so they could see just how appalled she was at their behavior. When she settled on Lucius Malfoy she declared, "I don't care how the world sees Draco, Mister Malfoy. I didn't fall in love with him based on what people believe; I fell in love with your son based on everything he is when he is with me. The past cannot be erased, I know that. I carry my scars and my memories just as all of you do, but I forgave him long ago. That's what allowed me to see him as the man that he is now. And you cannot keep him hostage in a cage of your regrets, Mister Malfoy.

"I am not perfect or untouchable, nor am I easily influenced by the thoughts of others. I love Draco and he makes me happy. Being in his arms, simple conversation, our petty arguments—everything about him gives me bliss. And I want to be with him for the rest of my life. I want to raise our child together and start a family based on everything that we are together. If people are unwilling to see that, then they are not worthy of being in my life."

Hermione's hands tenderly rested on her belly as her Gryffindor bravery allowed her to keep direct eye-contact with Lucius Malfoy. She said everything she had with honesty, the words coming from inside her chest where her heart was claimed and marked with Draco's name. She told Draco before that she didn't care about the past, and now she truthfully stated it to his father. What they had, the love that had connected them, that life that they created, was founded by the people Hermione and Draco were now.

As the brunette continued to hold her stance with earnest, she failed to register that she let slip the one thing Draco had yet inform his parents about. Their baby. And now Narcissa was standing by the huddle alongside her husband, and both were eyeing the young witch with indescribable expressions.

With a deep breath that granted him a form of serenity, Draco put an arm around Hermione's waist as she used wandless magic to end the concealment charm she previously cast on herself.

"She's four months pregnant," Draco provided, "and I would like it if both of you were there to be in its life."

Narcissa's hands shook as she stretched them towards her son. There was a glimmer of emotion in her blue gaze, but she didn't allow anyone to see the tears that threatened to fall as she marched forward to bring her son into a foreign embrace.

As the usually firm and poised woman drowned in sentiment, Hermione did the equivalent of what Draco had done for her involving her friends. She stepped close to Mister Malfoy and reached for one of his frozen hands. He eyed her skeptically, unmoving, tormented, conflicted, and she watched as his surprise turned to utter amazement when she rested his right hand on her clothed, pregnant belly.

"The baby will need grandparents," Hermione said. "Grandparents that will love and encourage and that can see the world as a beautiful place rather than one drenched in memories of war."