Chapter 1: The Night

It had been a day of great victory when the Great War finally ended. Many lives were lost and many homes destroyed and yet people still rejoiced as Harry Potter pointed his wand at Lord Voldemort, yelled the killing curse and watched as the dark wizard fell in a crumpled heap at his feet. That night Harry had been carried on the shoulders of many as the wizarding community of Britain gathered in Diagon Alley drinking the night away, celebrating the victory and mourning the great loss that had come with the war.

It had been almost a year since then when the day of the seventh years' graduation dawned upon them. The year had been a strange, yet interesting, one. The end of the war had caused many inter-house relationships to take place. The Slytherins, namely, had finally dropped their unfriendly demeanours as they no longer felt the need to keep them up and many strange revelations had been. But none were as strange as the fact that Blaise Zabini, once the biggest bully's of the school, enjoyed ballet dancing and practised it every summer holidays. The fact had shocked the rest of Slytherin house into oblivion, but Blaise was a useful comrade so they eventually accepted his "hobbies". Even though there were some changes, other people had nothing about themselves to reveal. Neville Longbottom was still as forgetful as ever, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were still the biggest sluts of the century, but now it was ten times worse as the four girls had joined forces and off course Draco Malfoy was still Prat Prince Number One. Sure, he had switched sides during the war but that did nothing to stop his cocky attitude or his dislike towards muggleborns.

On the night of their graduation, the seventh years wanted a party, a very BIG party at that, but the teachers, having learnt from previous years, had put up Wizarding Surveillance Cameras (as they were called) all over the school that prevented these celebrations from taking place. But as with every situation, this one too had a loop hole and that was all thanks to Professor Flitwick, who out of sheer laziness had skipped the Head's common rooms, leaving them surveillance free. So naturally after literally begging the Head Boy and Girl (who were Hermione Granger and Ernie McCalim) the seventh years had finally found the perfect party location.

At that particular moment, Hermione Granger stood on the foot of her staircase and surveyed the mess surrounding her. Empty firewhiskey bottles, junk food wrappers and many other things that she's rather not think about littered the floor. Her fellow class mates sat in groups all around the common room; several of them were unconscious and most were drunk. Parvati and Dean were making out on the couch, their tongues down each other's throats, their hands wandering to unthinkable places. Typical, Hermione thought rolling her eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Crabbe and Goyle standing by the food table, silently laughing to themselves. Those two are such idiots, thought Hermione, they probably can't even tell left from right. But just then something Goyle grunted out caught her attention.

"Guess what Crabbe," he said in that animalistic voice of his, "I've spiked the potato chips."

"Spiked?" asked Crabbe, a look of question on his face, "oh you mean you made them spiky."

"No, silly," giggled Goyle in a very un-Goylish manner, "it means I put powder on them so now everyone's gonna have illusions, you know they'll see what they wanna."


This was bad, thought Hermione, this was really bad. If only she could stop the people from eating the chips, all she had to do was find the bowl and-

But her thoughts were interrupted when Seamus yelled from across the room. "LOOK EVERYONE, IT'S PAMELA ANDERSON!"

Hermione's fears were confirmed as Seamus ran right at the wall and knocked himself out. Just as she was about make her way out of the common room, to inform the teachers, a pair of large, rough hands grabbed her around the waist.

"Where do you think you're going, sexy?" Draco Malfoy's husky voice whispered in her ear.

Oh no, this is not happening, thought Hermione. She tried to wriggle out of Malfoy's grip, but it was not use, he was a lot bigger and stronger than she was. She reached into her pocket to grab her wand and cursed when she found that it wasn't there.

During her struggling, Malfoy had started placing small kisses down her neck, barely even noticing her discomfort. He then flipped her around to face him and planted his lips firmly against hers. Hermione struggled under his grasp, but he only pulled her closer. He pulled back and looked Hermione straight in the eye and with one smooth movement picked her up and started to climb the stairs to her bedroom. Upon reaching it, he literally threw Hermione onto the bed and crawled on top of her. Hermione pushed him hard in the chest, but he just wouldn't move. Instead, he took this gesture as a seductive one and slammed his lips on Hermione's again. He began unbuttoning her blouse, slowly yet surely.

"Let's talk about sex baby. Let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about bubbles in the tub. Let's talk about making loooovee." Draco's druken singing echoed throughout the room as he ran his hands up and down Hermione's thighs.

"Malfoy-," Hermione began, pushing against him as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Baby, please don't call me that, my name is Draco."


"Oh I love the way you say my name, it's such a turn on. Let's quit the foreplay and get down to business."

And without further ado, Draco once again brought his lips to Hermione's and wrapped her legs up around his waist. She felt the bile rising up in her throat and she knew that after this night nothing would ever be the same ever again.


Four Years Later

"Mummy, wake up," called the voice of a small blonde child as he ran into his mother's bedroom and jumped into the bed next to her.

"Nick?" said Hermione, slowly opening up her eyes to look at her son, "what's the matter?"

"Mummy, I want to ask you a question."

"Couldn't it wait til the morning honey?" asked Hermione rubbing her eyes.

"No, it's very important."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Mummy the other kids at day care are always asking m where my Daddy is, and I don't know what to tell them."

"Who asked you that dear?" asked Hermione panicking sightly, for there was no way she could tell him who his father was or where he was.

"Everybody," replied Nick, raising his up high for emphasis.

"Well then what did you tell them?"

"I told them that I don't know, and that I would ask you."

"Well Nick, I'm sorry but I can't tell you that."

"Why not?" asked the small child, his eyebrows raising in curiosity

"Because Mummy doesn't know, " replied Hermione, pulling Nick under her covers.

"But Mummy," protested Nick, wriggling against her grasp "you know everything."

Hermione just laughed at this and told Nick to go to sleep as she realised that it was actually three o' clock in the morning. She watched silently as Nick finally gave in and closed his eyes, falling a sleep almost instantly. She grew worried as she thought about her son. All his life Hermione had tried to make sure he didn't feel like there was anything missing from his life and now questions like this were coming up. She did not want to see her child growing up depressed. Being a single mother had proved to be easy so far, but if people were giving Nick trouble about it at school, then his future could be impacted. With that thought in mind, Hermione too closed her eyes and she too fell asleep.