Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, you know that. The plot is based on the movie "Borrowed Hearts." All I own are Ana Granger and Monsieur Deville.Chapter 1 The Plan
"And thank you for my mum and dad," little Ana Granger said. "Wherever he is." She opened her eyes to find everyone at the table not looking at her, but at her mom sitting right next to her. She lifted her head to look at her mom as well. Her mom gave her a half smile, making her smile as well.
"Well," cut in Ron Weasley, "who's ready for turkey?"
Ana and Hermione Granger were at the Burrow, spending the monthly "Weasley Dinner" with all nine of them plus their extended families. Ever since all seven of the Weasley children from Bill to Ginny moved out and started their own families, Molly and Arthur had missed a house full of children and so decided to hold monthly dinners to bring the whole family back together. Along with their children and their spouses and offspring, Hermione and Ana were always invited to these dinners as honorary Weasleys. That month, the honor of leading prayer fell upon little Ana Granger. She thanked everyone from their cat Crookshanks to Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry, and ultimately to her mother and father.
Hermione smiled at Ron, mouthing 'Thank you.' He smiled back at her and winked just before digging into his food. The moment was awkward, to say the least, but thankfully Ron helped to ease the slight tension.
Draco Malfoy sat at the head of the dinning table, alone as usual. Ever since his father's death and his mother's loss of sanity, Draco had inherited the Malfoy company and fortunes. He had thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of Gringotts vaults filled from the floor to the ceiling with galleons. He had people at his beck and call. He was the richest and most sought after bachelor in the whole of wizarding England, a fact proven by Witch Weekly's article "The 100 Hottest Bachelors." He had the looks and charm to get just about any girl he wished. He had everything.
But it was times like these, eating another dinner alone with only the two maids, his one butler, and a team of house elves around the Manor, that he wished he had a family to share all his riches with.
"Give Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron a kiss before we leave, love," Hermione told her daughter as Ana smiled at her and ran after Ron and Harry.
She was still smiling as Ginny came up to her. "You ok, Mione?" she asked tentatively, draping an arm around the older woman's shoulders.
Hermione turned to her best girl friend, and the new Mrs. Potter, and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a porcelain doll, Gin. I'll live."
Ginny Potter laughed as she shook her head. "I know but…"
"I'm fine," Hermione interrupted, stepping out of her friend's arms. "Stop worrying about me. You're married now Gin, worry about your husband. You and I both know that he needs plenty tlc, tender loving care." They both laughed as Ana came running back to Hermione.
"You ready to go, honey?" Hermione asked as she carried her five-year-old daughter in her arms. Ana bobbed her head up and down. Hermione said her thank yous and goodbyes to the whole Weasley family before grabbing some floo powder and stepping into the Weasley fireplace. Because Hermione never liked to apparate with her daughter, it was too risky, she flooed back to her flat from the Burrow.
The bright sun crept through the blinds and half awakened Hermione Granger. It was the Monday after the Weasley dinner. It was also the first day of December, signaling the official start of the Christmas season.
She finally opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings. She lived with her daughter in a one bedroom flat in London. Imagine, the pride and joy of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, living paycheck to paycheck in a one bedroom flat with a five-year-old child.
Her daughter slept peacefully in the bed next to hers. Her daughter, the joy of her life, the apple of her eye, the light in her darkness, and everything else a mother would call their child. She had sandy blonde hair, wavy and tamer than her mother's. She had dark blue eyes, with flecks of gold as well. She was a beautiful child.
Hermione rolled out of bed and got ready for her job working as the supervisor at Ready for Wear, one of the Malfoy family's many businesses. The pay wasn't all that great; it paid for her rent and just the basic essentials, with a few galleons to spare. With her knowledge, Hermione Granger could've gotten a better job, but with her daughter she couldn't risk leaving her stable career at Ready for Wear to take a risk in the fickle business world.
After taking a quick shower, Hermione leafed through her closet for something to wear. With her hair wrapped in a towel, Hermione chose a black knee length skirt with a white button up oxford shirt. After dressing and putting her usually wild curly locks into a low bun, Hermione looked like the oldest twenty six year old ever.
"Ana sweetie," she cooed as she softly nudged her daughter to wake up. Ana opened an eyelid only to promptly close it again. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ana, love, it's time for school."
She slowly opened both her eyes and smiled at her mum as she, with the help of Hermione of course, got ready to spend the day at school.
After dropping off Ana at her muggle school, Hermione apparated to Ready for Wear, an apparel shop in Diagon Alley.
"Morning Mione," Julie Brown, her coworker and friend, greeted her as she walked into the store. Julie was a very attractive witch, standing at a towering 5'9" to Hermione's 5'4" stature. She was black and like Hermione, Julie had natural curly brown locks. To sum it up, she resembled Scary Spice from the Spice Girls.
"Morning Julie, how was your weekend?" asked Hermione as she stepped around the counter to join her friend in the back room. Their friendly chatter went on as the other workers arrived, ready for the rush that was sure to follow.
And they were right, Ready for Wear was filled with young adults wanting to get a head start on their Christmas shopping. It was the longest and busiest day for Hermione Granger.
"So tell me, Malfoy," Blaise Zabini said as he reclined in Draco's chair and propped his feet on his desk at the main office of Malfoy Industries. "How was your weekend? Any new conquests?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Draco.
Draco raised an eyebrow as he watched his business associate getting comfortable in his chair. "What do you think?" he stated. He walked over to his desk as Blaise smirked and chuckled.
"I see," Blaise replied, fumbling around on Draco's desk like it was his own. After a few seconds of closing and opening drawers, Blaise stopped his rummaging as his hand glided over a smooth wooden box. Ah thought Blaise, so this is where Malfoy keeps his Cuban cigars. Blaise was only allowed to lift the lid about an inch before Draco's hand came down and snapped the lid back shut.
"You touch those again Zabini and I'll make sure to recommend you to Mrs. File," Draco smirked as he watched Blaise back down and his eyes grow larger. Mrs. File was a close friend of the Malfoy family. She had been trying for years to wed her dear daughter Zoë off to Draco. But poor Zoë was just South of ugly and boring. Basically, she resembled Hagrid with the personality of a doorknob. No Draco thought, doorknobs are more exciting. "And get your bloody arse out of my chair."
"No need to get your knickers in a bunch Malfoy," Blaise responded as he stood up and walked to his blonde haired friend.
Malfoy opened his mouth to respond when a buzz from the fireplace caught his attention.
"Mr. Malfoy?" a voice called out.
"Yes Doris," Draco responded, sitting down in his chair. Blaise took a seat across from him.
"Monsieur Deville is on the line," came the reply.
"Put him through," replied Draco as he looked at Blaise hesitantly. Blaise just shrugged his shoulders.
The face of Pierre Deville, the Frenchman who owned the robe shops Gladrags, appeared in the fire as Draco's assistant, Doris, disappeared.
"Ah bonjour Monsieur Malfoy. I'm sure Monsieur Zabini has informed you of my plans regarding our deal, has he not?" Mr. Deville asked in his thick French accent.
"Yes Blaise has told me about it," Draco responded.
"Ah oui, so before we draw up the contracts, I'll be staying with you and your family for a few days. See you soon Monsieur Malfoy, and I can't wait to meet your lovely wife and child. Au revoir." And just like that, his face disappeared.
Draco stared at the fire before realization hit him. Wife and child? What the…he turned his gaze to Blaise, who was whistling and looking everywhere but Draco.
"Blaise," he asked in that creepy calm voice of his, the one signaling the calm before the storm. "Why did Monsieur Deville say that he couldn't wait to meet my nonexistent wife and kid?"
"Well…" started Blaise, his eyes shifting from both sides of him.
"Start talking Zabini" demanded Draco as he glared at his raven-haired associate.
Blaise sighed. "It's like this Malfoy," he started as he finally turned his eyes towards the blonde, "Monsieur Deville is a sucker for families. So, in order to secure the deal, I kind of…" he drifted off looking down at his hand.
"Spit it out Zabini."
"All right, all right. I kind of stretched the truth and told him you were happily married and had a kid," he said hurriedly.
"What?!" Draco's voice boomed throughout the office making Blaise wince in his seat. Draco was fighting to keep calm. He was trying very hard not to throw Blaise Zabini out the window of his fifty-first floor office.
"Now Draco I did this for you," Blaise responded timidly as he got out of his chair, as far away from Draco as possible.
Draco closed his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Breathe Malfoy. It wouldn't do well for the deal if I were found guilty of the murder of one Blaise Zabini. After a few moments of taking deep breaths and thinking through it once more, Draco finally opened his eyes and smirked at the dark haired man standing near the door.
"And how, pray tell Blaise, will people believe that 'Bachelor of the Year' Draco Malfoy is married and has a child?" he asked as he lifted a brow. Blaise just merely chuckled as he walked back to his seat.
"Simple Draco. We just tell people that you value your privacy, especially when it deals with your family and personal life." Responded a beaming Blaise.
Draco just rolled his eyes. On one hand, this plan was ridiculous. But on the second, it could just guarantee Malfoy Industries the deal that it so desperately needed with Gladrags. "Fine, fine. Let's contact Pansy Parkinson. We'll make plans to find a child and learn how to act like a 'loving' family. It'll only be for a few days anyway."
"Um Malfoy," Blaise started, looking awfully timid once again. Draco just lifted a blonde eyebrow.
"Monsieur Deville has a soft spot for Muggles."
"And I told him that you were married to a Muggle-born witch."
"Thanks again Harry and Gin," Hermione said as she sat down on the couch in the Potter's living room waiting for her daughter to put on her shoes and her coat. After school, Ana would either go to her grandparent's house or to Harry and Ginny's flat while her mother worked. Because Ginny was "in between jobs," as she so liked to call it, she stayed home most of the day and "worked" as babysitter for Ana after school. Ginny, like her mother, had a knack with children, a trait Harry was surprisingly oblivious to.
Ana Granger liked staying with her Uncle Harry and her Aunt Ginny, as well as her Uncle Ron and Aunt Lavender. She enjoyed watching them as they exchanged simple gestures of love, wondering, not for the first time, where her dad was. For as long as Ana could remember, it had always been just her and her mum. She knew that she had a dad somewhere, because every little boy or girl had two parents, but whenever she would ask her mum, she would always just smile at her and change the subject.
That day, her Aunt Ginny told her that if she was a really good girl and if she wished long and hard enough, then someone up there might hear her and might just grant her wish. Ana didn't know where exactly 'up there' was, but that didn't bother her.
"I wish my daddy could just come home," she had whispered to no one in particular.
Now her and her mum were stepping into the fireplace, getting ready to floo back to their home. As soon as they stepped out of their fireplace, Ana ran to the bedroom while Hermione just smiled and headed over to the kitchen to start dinner.
After they ate dinner, Hermione asked about Ana's day and how she liked staying with the Potters.
About half an hour later, Hermione was tucking her daughter into bed. Just as she was about to turn off the lights, Ana asked a question that made Hermione's heart quicken and made her freeze on her spot.
"Can you-can you tell me about daddy, mum?" came the soft question.
Hermione turned back to her daughter. Of course keeping the details of her own father from her was stupid and a tad bit silly, Hermione just couldn't bring herself to talk about him. And she still couldn't.
"Ana, love, I don't think-"
"Mum, please," she interrupted, eyes pleading.
Hermione sighed. She should've known that she couldn't keep Ana in the dark about her father forever. But Hermione just wished that she could talk to Ana about her father when she was older, but now's a good a time as any.
"Well," she began as she walked towards her daughter. She sat down at the head of her daughter's bed as Ana snuggled closer to her. She cradled her as she played with her sandy blonde locks. "Your father is a famous Quidditch player…"
Draco stood there, with a blank expression on his face. Pretending he was married to Pansy, ok yes he could do that. Pretending he was a father, yes he could do that as well. But pretending he was married to a Mudblood, there are just some things a Malfoy won't do. Although the Dark Lord had been defeated a few years back and the whole Pureblood-Mudblood thing had died with him, Draco still couldn't see himself harboring any romantic feelings, much less marrying, a Muggle-born witch.
"No," he said in an oddly calm voice. He was glaring at Blaise, wishing that looks could kill.
"Oh come on Malfoy. We, Malfoy Industries, need this," Blaise stated imploringly.
"Then you marry a Mudblood," he shot back
"I'm already married Malfoy," he replied, smiling faintly at the mention of his wife.
"Yes give my regards to the poor soul, but I suggest you leave before she is made a widow," Draco said as he stood up, causing Blaise to rise as well. He stepped in front of Draco, preventing him from taking another step.
"Draco, Malfoy Industries really needs this deal."
"Ready for Wear is doing fine as is," Malfoy countered, trying to side step Blaise. "We don't need to sell to Gladrags."
"Malfoy," Blaise said as he stepped in front of his blonde haired boss once again. "Yes I know Ready for Wear is booming right now, but think of what the company will gain if we sell to Gladrags."
Malfoy stopped. Blaise did have a point. It couldn't hurt to have a few more million galleons attached to the Malfoy name. And it really wouldn't be that bad. It would only be for a few days and as long as they chose a pretty enough witch, then everything would be fine.
He sighed. "Fine Blaise, I agree. On one condition, I get to choose my wife and child to be."
Blaise's face broke into a huge grin. "Excellent. I've taken the liberty of narrowing down a few possible Muggle-born witches for you who work in one of the many Malfoy businesses."
Draco waved a dismissive hand as Blaise dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"I've based the order of my list according to beauty and brains, disregarding the child factor, that'll come later," Blaise informed him, handing Draco the list of names.
Draco rolled his eyes as he took it and unfolded it. "And the lucky winner is…"
A/n: so how'd you like it so far? Well yes I know all of you who read my other story are saying "Another 'Christmas' fic?" but yes that's how it was in the movie and that's how I'll keep it.