Chapter One

Draco Malfoy adjusted his dress robes, sighed at his reflection in his mirror and left his personal quarters in Malfoy Manor. He strode down the long halls, making his way to the ballroom, his face impassive, his jaw tight.

It was New Year's Eve and his parents' famed annual ball was about to commence. Draco was about to join his mother and father, so that the family could open the ball. This year, his newly announced betrothed, Astoria Greengrass, would be standing with the Malfoys as they received their guests. With seemingly the entirety of wizarding Britain invited, there were going to be a lot of guests for them to greet. He plastered an expression of equanimity upon his face, just before his parents and Astoria were in sight. It wouldn't do much to keep up appearances if he looked as miserable as he felt. And these days, he thought regretfully, being Draco Malfoy was only about keeping up appearances.

"My dragon, you look wonderful!" his mother beamed at him. Astoria smiled demurely and nodded as well.

"Thank you, Mother. Both you and Astoria look lovely this evening." Draco kissed the air on either side of both witches' cheeks, before exchanging nods with his father. "Shall we?" he asked with a forced air of politeness. Draco fucking hated everything about today. This bloody party was just about the last thing he wanted to endure.

Especially after he had seen the list of confirmed attendees.

In the three years that followed after the end of the war, the Malfoys had clawed their way back into high society – thanks in no small part to Harry Potter's testimony about his mother's actions during the Battle of Hogwarts. Of course, their galleons were still good, which helped matters immeasurably. And while his parents' private attitudes about the proper order of Wizarding society had not changed in any great magnitude, their public guest list had expanded to include all of the luminaries of this new era. Which meant all of the Ministry elite were invited. It meant that the bloody Golden Trio were all invited, although the Weasel had backed out at the last minute, the git. It meant it was only a matter of hours before Draco would see her again.

Hermione Granger was making a name for herself at the Ministry of Magic – she had accomplished quite a lot in her career, especially for someone who was only two years out of Hogwarts. Her work was officially restricted to her own department – the Department of International Cooperation – but that hadn't stopped Granger from making waves across the Ministry as a whole. She had once confided in him that she had selected International Cooperation only so she could use the areas of overlap with other magical nations to force changes in Britain; across numerous, otherwise unconnected, departments. It was why she hadn't just gone to Magical Creatures to help house elves, or to the Wizagenmot so she could re-write outdated laws. She was using her platform, and her war heroine profile, to drag the Ministry into making reforms in numerous areas that set her swotty heart afire.

Granger had browbeat several departments into meeting or exceeding the standards of their international counterparts; either by appealing to their sense of national pride or eventually wearing them down with her hurricane of insistence, or some combination of the two. At one Ministry shindig they had both attended – arriving and leaving separately, only speaking to each other in passing when they were in presence of witnesses – he had observed her pull a different, but related scheme when she convinced one of her international colleagues to raise their own standards back at home. Draco had marvelled at her genius – she had been trying to make her suggested policy standard here and was experiencing significant pushback from some recalcitrant career bureaucrats. He smirked when he realized she was going to use Sweden's seemingly newfound respect for house elf labour negotiations to force through similar measures at home.

Granger had always been an extraordinarily clever witch.

To his surprise, Draco had begun talking to Hermione Granger following the war, once they had both returned to Hogwarts for their 8th year. It took him until October, before he had worked up sufficient nerve to apologize to her for his conduct both before and during the war – which she stiffly accepted. Soon after, they began sitting at tables in the library that were near to each other, before sitting together – at the same table – by the time Christmas break rolled around. By February, he had snogged her in every alcove in castle. By April, he had shagged her in the restricted section of the library.

As graduation day approached, Draco made the disconcerting discovery that the scent of old books got him hard. It made studying for his N.E.W.T.s awkward.

Neither of them had any desire for their relationship to be public. Keeping it a secret was something they both agreed upon, immediately. Still burned from the way the Prophet had written about her during the Triwizard Tournament, to say nothing with its fascination with her personal life post war, Hermione told him she did not want a scandalous relationship for them to start hounding her about, again. "It was bad enough the last time, when no one knew who I was and I wasn't actually in a relationship with anyone. I cannot imagine what it would be like now," she had confided to him, shivering at the thought.

Draco had felt guilty at her remembrance, and had used the opportunity to confess his part in feeding gossip to Rita Skeeter during their fourth year. Granger had just rolled her eyes at him, telling him she had figured out his involvement when it was happening, and she had already forgiven him for all of that. Draco suspected that part of the reason why she wanted to keep things private, was so she didn't have to explain about their, er, entanglement, to Potter and the Weasel. Which was fair enough. He certainly had no intention of letting his parents know that he was spending all of his free time either shagging, or thinking about shagging, the very same Muggle-born, Gryffindor they had all watched be tortured by Bellatrix.

It was easier for all concerned to just keep whatever this was between themselves. He didn't want the real world to intrude on their time together, any more than she did.

After graduation, even though it became harder to find moments where they could be together, they still found them. Draco had moved back into his family's Manor, which was not an appropriate place for them to meet for many reasons. So he would always floo to her flat, whenever she had a few spare hours and he was not otherwise detained. Because they were no longer sneaking around the castle, or maybe it was just because they were a bit older, they started spending more of their time talking and making dinner together.

Of course, afterwards he still fucked her into her mattress; feeling as she clenched around him and quivered beneath him, listening to her beg him to go harder. Granger always asked him to fuck her hard, and Draco always obliged. Once, as they lay entwined with each other, soaking up the afterglow, she confided in him that she liked it when she could feel the after-effects of their amorous activities in the days that followed. Granger never bothered to heal any scratches or bruises from their enthusiastic shagging, merely glamouring them so that no one else would know. Draco healed his – he didn't live alone and he was not prepared to answer any questions from his parents that a surprise love bite might provoke. But he liked knowing that Granger bore his marks, even if no one else saw them.

When they were together, alone in Granger's flat, Draco felt like they lived in their own little world. She told him about her work at the Ministry and he told her all about his studies for a potions' mastery, which he was taking via correspondence from a French master. In her arms, in her bed, Draco let himself forget that anyone else existed. He found he felt more at ease there with her, than he did anywhere else. Voldemort's reign inside of Malfoy Manor had permanently sullied the place for him. Even with the Dark Lord vanquished and his mother's top to bottom refurbishment of the interior, the rooms still felt tainted by the horrors that had occurred during the war. But with Granger – well, with Granger, he felt like he was home. A secret, probably temporary home. But a home, nonetheless.

They continued on in the same manner for well over a year after they had graduated, happily segregating their time together, away from all other aspects of their lives. Draco wasn't sure how long this arrangement could continue, but he found he did not want to rock the boat by questioning it. Granger never seemed like she wanted things to change, so Draco just kept things the same. At least, he did until his parents informed him that they had found a match for him and it was now time for him to do his duty to further the Malfoy line by marrying a pre-selected pure-blood bride. Unbeknownst to him, they had been making plans with the Greengrass family for some time – only waiting so Astoria could graduate from Beaubaxtons first.

"Perhaps you might have mentioned this to me earlier, as you've been working on these plans for so long." Draco said, a little coolly, when his father bothered to apprise him of the plan for Draco's own future.

"Oh don't be childish, Draco. This is for the good of the family. Astoria is beautiful witch, from a fine family and together you will have the pure-blood heirs necessary ensure our family's future. You should be grateful that we've arranged such an advantageous match for you! Not behaving petulantly because you weren't forced to be bored by the details."

Draco shut down after that, occluding for the first time since his trial. "As you say, father," Draco responded, tonelessly, his stomach in knots.

For the next four months, Draco's double life became much more complicated. He still saw Granger as often as he could – but only managed it about half as often. After she lamented about his 'busy schedule', Draco told her his mother was determined that he be involved in her philanthropic endeavours and it was taking up more of his time. While his explanation was technically true, it was also fundamentally misleading. His availability was reduced because he was being roped into performing courting customs with Astoria. The Sacred Twenty-Eight had many elaborate practices regarding how couples got to know one another, leading up to their eventual marriage. Accordingly, Draco was pressed into many obligations to spend time with Astoria, along with all four of their parents, at both Malfoy Manor and Greengrass Manor, respectively.

Draco felt nothing for Astoria – he hadn't initially, and she had not improved with familiarity. She was a beautiful witch, and he thought that in a world where he hadn't known the taste of Hermione Granger, he might have married Astoria and not known how empty his life was. But he had tasted Granger - in every sense of the word. Granger was unlike anyone else in the world – she was passionate and fierce and alive. Her mind was the sexiest thing about her, but Draco still found could write poetry about the curve of her arse, he was so enamoured by her physical form. Almost any witch would suffer in comparison to someone so incomparable, but Astoria – insubstantial and decorative as she was – had no chance.

She could not hold a candle to Granger.

But his time with Granger was still a secret. Neither of them had ever even so much as hinted at revisiting their initial decision to keep their entanglement hidden from the rest of the world. Draco had begun to suspect, in their first year out of Hogwarts, that Granger wasn't looking to move their relationship into the light. As he wasn't eager to have that discussion either, he convinced himself that Granger wasn't as emotionally invested in this – however 'this' was defined – as he was. After all, they never discussed their feelings for one another. They talked about Ministry policies, books and current events. They shared magical theories and tried to outdo the other when it came to who had the most brilliant insight on any new areas of research that sparked their mutual interest. Granger mostly won, but Draco was more insufferable about it when he had the better analysis, so it felt more or less equal between them. But they did not speak of their feelings to each other, did not refer to each other by endearments outside of sex, and they did not speak of the future beyond scheduling their next rendezvous.

His parents – aware of his reluctance, if not its cause – remained insistent that he wed Astoria. Which meant that Draco had to set Granger aside. His parents were pushing to make his betrothal arrangement public. He had known he would have to end things with Granger, but he tried to put off the inevitable for as long as possible. In late September, when he could delay no longer, Draco floo'd into her flat, feeling as apprehensive as he had before testifying at his own trial. Granger came towards him with a smile and he had to put his hands up in front of him, to prevent her from pulling him into a kiss. "Granger, we need to talk."

She immediately pulled back; her face puzzled. "What's wrong." She looked concerned for him and increasingly anxious.

"I need to stop seeing you." His words came out strangled.

Her wide eyes blinked, slowly, shocked - before narrowing in anger and hurt. "I see. May I ask why?" Her face had become a rigid mask.

"My parents are making me get betrothed. I'm to marry Astoria Greengrass in the Spring."

"Making you get married." She pursed her lips, looking at him with disgust. Her voice was flat and distant. "Are you being threatened? Magically compelled?"

"Well, no. Nothing like that." Draco did not like the look in her eyes. She was radiating pain and fury, and her curls – which had softened since they were at school – tightened up and he swore he could see sparks. "My family has always had arranged marriages with other Sacred Twenty-Eight families. It's what they've always planned for me to do."

"Oh! It's the plan. I guess, you mean it was always the plan assuming that you managed to survive that war they were determined to put you in. Are you sleeping with her too?" Her voice was acid, her eyes flashing.

"Granger, it's not like that. I haven't been sleeping with anyone else."

"But you are still breaking up with me, so you can marry her?" Now she had tears in her eyes and she looked so hurt.

Draco might be more terrified by this, than by her anger. He felt his defensiveness rise in the face of her tears. "Can we call it a breakup? Were we actually together, together – or did we just kept meeting up, in secret?"

"Have you been with other witches while you were sleeping with me?" Granger was back to being mad, and Draco was no longer sure he had a preference between her rage or her tears. They were both terrible.

"No! Of course not!"

"And why not, Draco? If we weren't in a relationship? If we were 'just meeting up', with nothing else to it? Why be monogamous for years, if we were just meeting up?" She spat out the words, bitter and infuriated.

"Because, Granger. Because – " Draco sputtered, not knowing where he was going with that. He didn't have a good answer. He didn't even think about sleeping with anyone else, because the only witch he wanted was Granger. That didn't sound like an answer that would help him out here and now, though.

"You know, I had thought, if I was patient and I gave you enough time, you would come around. That maybe you'd even love me back. But apparently, you were using that time to arrange a Sacred Twenty-Eight bride for yourself, while I was only ever meant to your little secret. Just keeping you warm until your parents could find you a proper wife. Serves me right – for having hope. I want you to leave." She pointed to the floo, her eyes welling with furious tears.

Love me back? Did she just say she loved him? Oh, Draco wished he had handled this differently. "Granger, that's not how it went! You never told me you wanted me for anything more than a shag and some company."

"Shag and some company? That's all this has been for you?" she hissed at him. "As we have exclusively only been seeing each other. For well over two years." She spoke as though she was explaining things to a child.

"I didn't realize that this meant anything to you." He whispered, unable to process her reaction. He had badly misjudged her feelings about him, that much was clear.

"Well, as you are apparently too bigoted to want me for anything other than secret shags, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with in the future. Regardless of what I may have felt before, I want nothing to do with you now. Get out."

She whispered the last two words, but as he started to open his mouth, not wanting to leave her – them – like this – she screamed them at him again.

"Get out!"

The window pane behind her cracked. This time, he knew he had not imagined the sparks coming off of her curls. Draco nodded stiffly and left.

And that was it. For the roughly three months that followed, he hadn't seen or heard from Granger. They never encountered each other accidentally and they never exchanged owls. Draco thought about her of course, every day and with deep regret. But there had been no contact whatsoever – something that hadn't lessened his feelings about her, or his endless disappointment in himself, one iota. And tonight, at the Malfoy's annual New Year's ball, he was going to see Granger again – and he was going to have to do it with Astoria by his side.

Draco's engagement to Astoria had been announced in Witch Weekly the month before. There was a glossy multi-page spread of photos of the 'happy' couple, posing on the grounds of Malfoy Manor – Astoria proudly showing off the betrothal jewels that had been gifted to her once the arrangements were finalized. Their wedding was being planned for the following May and the article breathlessly detailed all of the extravagant plans cooked up by his mother. Draco thought he looked dead inside in the photos, but no one else noticed. His mother merely complimented him about how well his robes looked – which seemed like it was more of a compliment for her, in any event, as she had been the one to pick them out.

The ball had been underway for about an hour before he caught his first glimpse of her. And Draco had been avidly looking. He couldn't help himself – no matter how much he was still tormented by Granger's absence from his life. He was off to the side, chatting with his parents and Astoria, who was preening under all of the attention she had received as the newly announced, future Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Granger was standing across the dancefloor, with her back to him, engaged in conversation with Potter and some higher-up from the Ministry, her wild curls making her instantly recognizable. She was wearing a golden evening dress – like the Gryffindor queen that she was – a Muggle fashion that showcased her figure. Even from behind, without seeing her face, she was practically stopping his heart she was so gorgeous. And then she turned around and he thought his heart might have actually stopped for a moment.

Granger was pregnant.

Granger was noticeably pregnant. Probably around five months pregnant. Which meant that she had been pregnant the night that they had ended things, three months ago. The night that she had confirmed that she was exclusively sleeping with him, and had been exclusive with him for the preceding several years.

Granger was pregnant, with his child.

Draco occluded so hard that, to an outside observer, it probably looked like he briefly went into a coma. Her dress clung to her ample curves – her breasts, always one of his favourite things in the world, were larger and far more voluptuous than they had been the last time he saw her. Her bump – wherein lay his child – was not large, but was definitely pronounced, and the dress hugged every part of it. He had heard nothing – nothing – that breathed a word of her pregnancy, so he assumed she had kept it hidden under her Ministry robes until this evening, when she selected this form fitted Muggle dress.

It certainly was a statement.

"Oh look." He father said dryly, his voice tinged with disgust. "It appears that Miss Granger is breeding."

"I wasn't aware that she had married." Astoria sniffed, disinterested.

"As far as I am aware, Miss Granger is un-wed." His mother said, in a slightly scandalized tone, as she and Astoria exchanged meaningful looks, followed by smug smiles.

Draco's eyes met Granger's from across the room and he had to increase his efforts at occlusion. Her eyes narrowed in disgust and she turned her attention elsewhere as soon as she had noticed his gaze, her hand automatically drifting to her distended abdomen. Draco missed whatever his mother had said to him, unable to hear her over the sound of his racing heartbeat. Granger was pregnant with his child,his mind screamed at him, threatening to topple his occlumency walls. Granger, who had said she had been waiting for him to get over his bigotry.

For the next 20 minutes, Draco walked around mechanically, moving around the party as if he had been imperiused. He remembered nothing of who he had spoken to, nor even what he himself has said, on the few occasions he couldn't avoid spitting out a few words about some nonsense. All of his true focus was on seeing where Hermione Granger was in the ballroom and seeking an opportunity where he could speak with her, alone, without attracting anyone else's notice. Astoria was already pouting at him, as he had put no effort into escorting her around the party. She eventually left him, disgusted, to go whisper to his mother and now both witches were looking at him in disapproval.

Draco found he did not care.

Finally, Granger left the ballroom – presumably to get some air on the terrace – and Draco seized his moment. He went around on the opposite side of the room, left through a different door to the same terrace. He came up to her from behind, reached for her arm and, ignoring her yelp of surprise, apparated them both to his own rooms, before anyone had a chance to notice them even being near to each other.

Granger turned around, took in her surroundings and looked at him with such revulsion that he actually cringed away from her reflexively. "You have some fucking nerve, Draco Malfoy." She balled up her fist in her rage, stamping her foot.

"Is it mine?" he blurted out, his eyes scanning her face, his voice frantic.

"Nothing about me is yours, Malfoy." She hissed. "Go back to your intended and stop forcibly apparating pregnant women by surprise. You scared me! I could have had a heart attack, you prat!"

"Granger," he started towards her, aiming to grab her by her shoulders, seeking to make her listen to him, when she pulled out her wand and cast a flipendo, sending him flying backwards by several feet.

"Next time, that will be hard enough to put you through a wall, so plan your actions accordingly." Her hair sparked again, fury radiating off of her rounded form, as she kept her wand out at the ready.

He pushed himself back into an upright position and faced her. "Why didn't you tell me?" his voice was barely above a whisper, but he felt like he was shouting.

She looked at him, and tears welled in her eyes, which she angrily wiped away. "There is nothing to tell you. Nothing that is happening with me is any concern of the Malfoy scion, after all. You see, I'm not pure enough for him, so certainly no child of mine would ever be something for him to concern himself with. He's going to marry and have proper heirs with some, hopefully distant, cousin."

"Hermione – " she shot him a look of pure poison, and he changed tactics. "Granger, I – I only want to be with you. Granger, I – I lo – "

Granger interrupted him mid-sentence, her hair crackling and her voice furious. "Are you fucking kidding me? How dare you tell me that – now. You don't get to say that to me – now. You didn't love me enough to even whisper it when we were together, because apparently, you didn't even think we were together. You didn't love me enough to tell your bigoted parents about me. Hell, you didn't even love me enough to refrain from breaking my heart so you could marry someone you don't love, to keep your parents from having to confront the fact that their entire belief system is an outdated collection of racist lies. And you didn't love me enough to bother contacting me over the last three months, so excuse me if I am not swayed by any of this, now."

"Granger, that child is – "

"Mine. And no one else's." She wouldn't even acknowledge his paternity aloud. Merlin, he was so fucked.

"You can't seriously expect me to do nothing!" he ran his hands through his hair, feeling like he was at wit's end. What the fuck was he going to do?

Granger's words were iron. "You will do nothing. You will say, nothing. You will forget that you ever pretended that I meant something to you."

"You always meant something to me! You are everything to me!" as Draco shouted those words at Hermione, he realized the truth of that statement, as he felt it settling into his bones. Fuck, he was in love with Hermione Granger and she was pregnant with his child. Hell of a realization to have, after irrevocably bollocksing up the whole thing.

"Oh yeah? Somehow that didn't come across with you swanning about the bloody ballroom with your fiancée, as recently as ten minutes ago!"

"Granger, please – there has to be something I can do."

"Oh like, what, Draco? Set me up in a house as your Mudblood mistress?"

Draco flinched. "Don't say that."

"Don't you fucking presume to tell me what to do. You made your choice, Draco, and it wasn't me. I actually don't see a real practical difference between you being bigoted yourself and you merely pretending that you are bigoted because you don't want to upset Mum and Dad. And I will have none of that poison – from any source – around my child. Your window of opportunity to do the right thing has come and gone. Stay away from me and mine, Malfoy – or I will fucking finish what Harry started in that bathroom during 6th year."

Draco recoiled as if slapped. She had cried over his sectumsempra scars when she first saw them, tracing them and giving them soft kisses.

"Do not contact me again." With one last furious glance at him, she apparated out of his room, and presumably out of the Manor.

"Fuck!" Draco screamed in fury, using his wand to destroy a lamp on his desk. And then the antique chaise lounge. Fuck it. There were enough antiques tucked away in this Manor he might as well destroy all of the furniture in his room – it's not like anyone would notice, or care.

Draco had just wrecked a 17th century armoire, when he heard his door open and saw Narcissa entering the room. "We need to talk." His mother said, her face a picture of frosty anger. Astoria stood just outside of the doorway, tears streaming down her face, her breath heaving under the weight of her sobs. Well, someone – likely Astoria – had overheard his conversation with Granger. She must have seen him bolt for the terrace, and guessed where to follow him to, so she could eavesdrop.

Fuck.

Draco rolled his eyes at Astoria's dramatics – the witch didn't even seem to like him, for Merlin's sake. She liked the Malfoy family jewels she had been gifted and she was really looking forward to accessing his vaults, but she'd never given the slightest indication she cared one whit for Draco.

As soon as the guests left for the evening – it the fastest they had ever cleared out the Manor after a New Year's countdown – Draco found himself in his father's study under the reproving and angry gazes of his parents and erstwhile affianced. "Well, Draco. This is a fine predicament you've put us in!" Lucius's disgust was palpable. Astoria was delicately wiping tears from her eyes, as his mother patted her on the back and glared daggers at Draco.

"Astoria said the girl has no intention letting anyone know, so perhaps it will all be fine. No one need ever find out." Narcissa said, her own disgust at her son's actions evident. "Perhaps it will all just stay quiet and we can pretend it never happened. It's not like her child will be Draco's heir, regardless. Once you have your own children, you'll feel better." She said the last bit to Astoria, soothingly patting the younger witch on her arm.

"And my currently expected child? What of that?" Draco said, his voice like ice.

"Hopefully it won't have her hair." Astoria spat out, voice dripping with venomous spite. This surprised Draco somewhat. Over the course of their ill-fated courtship, Astoria had seemed like a piece of blank parchment, with almost no personality of her own, except an obvious affinity for wealth. He had witnessed far more vindictiveness from her this evening than he had believed her to possess; including early on during the ball, as Astoria had rather aggressively flaunted her betrothal jewels in front of a former classmate from Beauxbatons that she did not like. Although, to be fair, at least now the witch had reason enough to be angry.

"Better that, then to have the child look like a Malfoy!" Lucius slammed his hand on his desk for emphasis. Draco's eyes widened and he flinched. His mother caught Draco's reaction and immediately rushed to smooth over her husband's rough edges.

"Lucius, there is no need for such talk. Although, it would be better for us if she was already married before the birth – to stop some of the inevitable gossip before it leads back to us. Draco, do you think she could be induced to marry? I may be able to find a respectable enough husband for her, especially if she could be convinced to accept an older partner." Narcissa was all business, as she discussed bribing the witch who was currently pregnant with her own grandchild to marry some unknown, possibly old, stranger. It was clear that she did not expect Draco to have any objections whatsoever to being forever separated from his own child.

Draco was disgusted by his parents' reactions. Neither of them had made so much as a passing inquiry as to Draco's feelings about the matter. It was just a discussion about how they could possibly cover it up and lots of concern about how Astoria felt about the news. They just assumed that he'd give up his child, just like he gave up Granger. Draco laughed and shook his head. He was such a fool. He stood up on his feet and faced his parents.

"You know, I don't think I've had anyone or anything in my life that has made me happy since the end of my fourth year at Hogwarts – except for Hermione Granger. And neither of you – Mother, Father – neither of you care about that, do you?"

Lucius made a disgusted noise. "Draco, this isn't about a schoolboy crush that got out of hand – this is about your duty to this family and to the Malfoy line! And if you'd been able to keep your cock in your robes, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

Astoria flinched and broke into fresh sobs at Lucius's words. Narcissa looked disgusted with both her husband and son, as she attempted to stop Astoria's outburst.

Draco could feel a cold fury moving up his spine. "I have done everything, everything, you have ever asked of me. It wasn't enough for me to just go to Hogwarts, I had to spy on the Gryffindors for you. I was branded by that monster as a consequence of your failures, Father. Then I was given a year-long probable death sentence disguised as an impossiblemission, because of you and your Merlin-blasted fascination with blood purity! All of that at the behest of a half-blood, no less! So I have to question the true depth of your ideological commitment, if I'm being honest."

Draco glared at his father, who stood behind his desk, stone-faced with his jaw clenched. "I never wanted any of it and I nearly died so many times. And I still set aside the only woman I have ever loved, for you. And none of it is enough for you, is it? And it never will be. Unless I live my life exactly in accordance with your wishes, I am failing you – and even when I do as I am ordered, it's not like my efforts are even acknowledged."

Draco looked at his father – the man he had admired so fervently when he was a child – and the only emotion he felt was disgust, along with an enormous sense of shame about his own conduct. "Hermione was right. I let you use me to further your own bigotry, and I didn't even try to fight for her – for us."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at Draco and smiled cruelly, his voice a vicious hiss. "Better that Miss Granger disappear, than have her be associated with our family."

Draco had his wand out and at his father's throat before the words had even finished leaving Lucius's mouth, non-verbally petrifying the man, keeping his wand at the ready.

"If you harm one hair on Hermione's head, I will kill you with a song in my heart, Father. And if anyone comes near our child, you are the first person I will look to blame and there is nowhere on Earth that you will be safe from me."

Behind him, Narcissa made a choking sound, but his mother made no effort to draw her own wand – almost as though she too was paralysed by the scene before her, as surely as her husband had been petrified.

"Astoria, I'm afraid you are going to have to stop measuring the drapes and start looking for a different husband. Mother, even if Granger rightfully never deigns to speak to me again, I am done living my life for anyone, but myself. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make things up to her and Merlin willing, someday it will be enough. But regardless, I am refusing to be the Malfoy heir for any moment longer."

He took a deep breath, keeping his wand at the ready as he drew on his magic. "I renounce my claims to the Malfoy Manor, the Malfoy estate and the Malfoy inheritance." His effort of will made it magically binding. The family tapestry on the opposite wall flashed once, as the golden line showing Draco extending from Lucius and Narcissa turned black. His mother let out a sob, while Astoria looked at him with shock and disgust. Draco took off his signet ring and placed on the desk, in front of his father's still petrified form.

Draco looked over at his mother, dispassionately. "Mother, I will no longer be involved with anyone – in any capacity – who is foolish enough to believe that Hermione Granger is somehow less worthy of magic than anyone else in this room. I am sorry that you are so blinded by your own prejudice, but I am even more sorry that it took me this long to muster up enough courage to do something about it. If you still subscribe to any of this blood purity nonsense, I expect you to stay away from me, Hermione and our child. Permanently."

With one last look at his childhood home, ignoring the wails of his former fiancée and the shocked look on his mother's face, Draco apparated to Diagon Alley.

Cover art by Art of Crumbs! /artofcrumbs