Becoming

Draco was still contemplating the feel of his daughter moving against him as he perused the books in Hermione's sitting room. When she returned from the loo, she found him tracing his hand along the spines of their old Hogwarts textbooks.

"I'm surprised these shelves haven't collapsed, Granger," he said over his shoulder.

"Oh, don't worry," she answered cheekily. "I made sure to reinforce them all with strengthening spells."

"You seem to be outgrowing your shelving options."

"I had to move most of them in here from the new nursery. It used to be my study." Hermione gestured at the desk shoved into the corner.

"Have you considered finding another flat for your books?" Draco smirked at her.

"I've considered finding another flat, period." Her voice was casual, but she was frowning.

"Oh?"

She nodded. "This is a fourth floor walk up. Since you Flooed over, you didn't get the full experience of the back stairs. There's no lift, either. And we're in Muggle London, you know. The Floo is noisy so I try not to use it often, and I generally walk to and from a nearby alley to Apparate into work. It's not going to be as practical as I'd like. Especially with childcare needing factored in. I didn't let this flat with children in mind, obviously." She was frowning again.

"Have you considered moving out of the city?"

She hesitated. "I'm not sure, honestly. I love London. But the small communities on the outskirts remind me a bit too much of my home growing up. Maybe a smaller village? I've not put much thought into it," she shrugged.

The idea was absurd but made sense, at least in the moment. Still, Draco hesitated. Gulped. Then plunged in.

"Well, I know this will be an odd offer, but my home is a semi-detached, and it's in a Muggle village. Because of Scorp's accidental magic and the fact that he loves to ride his broom in the back garden, I actually purchased the other unit at the same time as ours, to help with privacy. Less questions when your direct neighbour never sees your kid outside," he explained in a rush. "You can't just suddenly make half a building unplottable or repel all Muggles, not when the whole community knows it's there. It would draw attention for different reasons, cause issues for the neighbours. It's empty now, if you'd be interested in taking a look at it. Three beds, a study. Both units are in an old barn conversion. It's a bit smaller than my side, but laid out differently."

"I'll think about it," she said thoughtfully. "Proximity would certainly make co-parenting a bit easier. I hate Flooing with infants."

"And it doesn't have to be long term, or something you have to decide on now. It's not going anywhere, and I hadn't planned to let it out. I've kept up on maintenance, but it's just sitting there for the time being." Draco knew he was rambling, but he couldn't get his mouth to turn off.

"Thank you for the offer. I'll consider it."

He nodded. "I don't want to push you, but it would probably be easier to move before she arrives than to try to do it with a newborn."

"I agree. But let's tackle one thing at a time, shall we?" Hermione said firmly as she gathered some writing materials from her desk. She moved to settle down on the sofa and spread the paper and pens out on the middle seat. Draco made himself comfortable on the other end.

"I had drafted a statement for the Prophet, if you'd like to start there. I took some liberties in padding it out, because the Prophet won't let us slip through without some tidbits."

Draco nodded as he took the paper from her. In her neat handwriting, it read:

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, together with Mr. Malfoy's son, Scorpius, are pleased to announce the impending birth of their child in the new year.

"This is a true gift," Ms. Granger states. "Draco and I reconnected this past winter through some mutual friends and we are both very excited for this next adventure."

Mr. Malfoy also commented that he and his son are delighted for their family to be growing. "My son can't wait to meet his new sibling, and neither can I."

The couple requests privacy as they prepare for their child’s arrival in the new year. They have declined an interview with the Daily Prophet, stating that Ms. Granger has addressed some questions about this new development in a profile appearing in this week's edition of the Quibbler.

"I think this will be sufficient. No matter what we say, they'll run something unflattering soon after. But it's our best shot."

"Yes, I imagine so. But I’d like to get this news out and over with before the next hearing on the Werewolf Registration Commission class action suit coming up. They just set the date earlier this week. I’m to be questioning some of the experts on the floor and I’d rather speculation on my uterus not be the topic of import,” she finished drily.

Draco felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he nodded all the same. “When is your interview with Lovegood?"

"Tuesday at nine at her home. She told me to invite you."

"I thought she didn't know?"

"I didn't tell her, she just told me to invite the father. I think she realises that our relationship is controversial, just based on the secrecy I've requested of her, and she wants to give you the opportunity to be involved."

"I didn't think the Quibbler usually ran society stories, anyway."

"Not frequently," Hermione agreed. "She does have a public interest section, though. But I'm actually discussing the new Scottish dragon reserve and my work against the WRC. It's not really for this," Hermione waved a dismissive hand at her stomach, "but it will serve as a good outlet. She'll be doing a profile of me, essentially, and we can address it all at once. It will answer everyone's questions and also get more eyes on these issues since they'll have to read through the article to get to the gossip. It makes strategic sense."

Draco quirked up his lips. You could always trust Granger to draw attention to injustices when the opportunity arose.

"So you won't need to be there until around ten, I would imagine. She’s offered to take photos for us, if we’d like. She does most of the photography for her articles and is quite good at portraits.”

Draco hesitated, then forced the words out. "Can we include Scorp in the photos?"

"Absolutely." She answered without hesitation. "If he's interested and you’re comfortable, I thought it might be good to release a photo of us all together with the story, and maybe one to the Prophet so we can control the imagery. A family photo, if you will. But only if he wants to as well."

"I'd like that. He's going to be very excited."

"Have you given more thought to when you'd like to tell him?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?" The words spilled from his lips.

Hermione shook her head with a smile. "Whatever you feel is best, Draco. He's your son, you know him better than I do. We might as well knock it all out in the next week."

"Are you free for dinner? He'll have questions for us both, I imagine.”

"Sure.” Hermione repositioned herself on the couch and leaned back into the arm so she could face him more head-on. “I do want to address how we’ll be representing our relationship with each other, because we’ll need to be consistent. I don’t have a concern either way because it’s going to be a hell of a conversation on my end regardless, but I know you have Scorpius and the Greengrasses to consider. My relationships are usually highly publicised, unfortunately, so –”

“Yeah, I know Granger.” Draco dragged his hand across his chin. “I think with most people, we just stick to something a little more vague. Like what you put in this statement,” he gestured with the Prophet statement. “We reconnected this year and have been exploring our relationship in private. Scorp doesn’t really need any more information than that, either – he’s too young to need any details. We can be honest with people we trust, but I’d like to know who all we’ll be letting in on that.”

“Well, I only have a handful of people I’m interested in knowing the full story,” Hermione shrugged before falling silent.

Hermione’s professional facade dropped, and Draco saw a sudden uncertainty in her eyes. “I don’t want to complicate this further, Draco, but I do need to be honest with you about my investment here. My hormones have taken away a fair bit of my inhibitions -- not that I had many reservations about speaking before -- but I’m going to be blunter than usual, so please let me get it out.”

Draco’s breath caught in his throat. “Yes?”

“I quite like who you have become as we’ve gotten older. I would like to count you as a friend moving forward, and not just the father of my child. I trust that you will be an equal partner in this, because I have seen how involved you are as a parent.” She took a deep breath. “I respect you a great deal for the changes you have made in your life, and continue to make. I've had some time to think about what I want for myself and for Sage moving forward, and I want us to be closer. But I would be lying to both of us if I said I wasn’t very attracted to you, as well. Physically, of course, as you’re quite fit, but also to who you are as a person. And it’s not just because of the baby, you know. I liked who you were before this happened, and it was just never the right time to approach you after Astoria, I suppose. This has just thrown another spanner in the works. But I’d like to explore a relationship for real – date you, you know – really give this a shot. If that’s something you’re interested in doing.”

Draco was moving before she even finished her statement. He got to his knees on the sofa and leaned over the papers strewn between them, not caring for how they scattered and crumpled under him. As soon as Hermione finished her final word, Draco bit out a swear.

“Thank fucking Merlin.”

And he kissed her. Tentative at first, but she soon returned it with enthusiasm. When they broke apart, Draco saw that her lips were swollen from the force of their kisses. Her eyes were bright behind the large glasses, and Draco knew his own reflected the same.

"The feeling's mutual, Granger," he said in a low voice. He cupped her jaw in his hand and dragged his thumb gently along her lower lip. "Very mutual."

Hermione smiled, dazzling him.

"In that case," she leaned in to kiss him again, "– ah – sod it.” Hermione cut off, her eyes meeting his. “Would you possibly like to stay with me tonight?" There was a rawness in her eyes and voice -- a vulnerability -- as she waited for him to answer.

"Yes, please."

They had stayed on the sofa for a short while, just holding each other and kissing occasionally as they tested the feeling of one another in this new way. They finalised their statement, and settled on a backstory for how they reconnected -- meeting again as adults at the beginning of the year through Theo and Padma, over drinks at the Nott residence. Draco assured her that the two would be behind them entirely, and that they had already offered to make a statement despite Theo's disdain for the press.

For dinner, they had ordered curries from the takeaway down the road, and as he and Hermione walked down the street he was struck by how normal it felt to be walking by her side. They received smiles from elderly passers-by as they traipsed around all bundled up against the November chill. Eating dinner at her small table was more intimate than he expected, but felt right.

Still, Draco couldn’t shake the niggling thought that it was a dream, and he was loath to wake from it.

Another part of him also felt like he was on borrowed time. In less than a week, their worlds would be turned upside down by the media. There would be no quiet strolls down the street for quite some time, he feared. All the negative media Draco had been subject to over the years – much of it, he would have once agreed, was deserved – had cautioned him against being optimistic of the coverage. Hermione was no stranger to the bad press, either, but the two of them appeared in the papers for fundamentally different reasons.

Draco tried to drown out the voice that was shouting potential headlines at the back of his head. Death Eater Seduces Golden Girl. Hermione Granger Under the Imperious? Death Eater Corrupts War Heroine. Former Death Eater Using Granger to Clear Family Name.

There would be some good ones, of course, scattered throughout. The ones that celebrated the breaking of Malfoy and pureblood tradition by embracing a non-pureblood child. The ones that cheered for the brightest mind of their age to be starting a family.

But then there would be the insulting and passive aggressive ones. About how Hermione convinced him to turn over a new leaf, or something like that. How she had snagged the bad-boy poster child of their generation. The papers would, of course, ignore the work he’d been doing for well over a decade and focus on Hermione causing a change of heart. Meanwhile, they would get sneered at for being unmarried, because Wizarding culture was still ages behind the Muggles on that front. They’d be harassed for wedding announcements before the week was out.

Draco was desperate to protect Scorpius – and now Hermione and Sage – from the vitriol that would be spewed around him. He couldn’t give a damn about any business contracts that would be lost (though he was sure his board of directors would have something to say about it), but he dreaded that Hermione would have repercussions with her own clients. Her Muggle clients would be none the wiser, and there would undoubtedly be some, like Theo, that would stick through the media storm, but he felt sick thinking of what she was risking, particularly with her creature-rights clientele who would be hard-pressed to forget his family’s historic stances.

Even as they ate dinner and talked about frivolous things, these thoughts bounced around Draco’s mind, and he wasn’t sure they would calm. He fretted to himself all evening. What if it got to be too much and she didn’t want to deal with him anymore? What if they didn’t get along long-term? What if Scorpius asked whether they were going to all live together? Why did he offer her the house? Surely she felt like that was a bit much. What if she moves in and feels trapped? What if a Howler sets something on fire? Or if Scorpius hears one of them? What if they made the announcement and something happened to the baby, or –

“Hey,” Hermione’s soft voice and a hand on his knee dragged Draco from his thoughts. He darted his eyes around and found her own eyes trained on him from across her table, full of concern. “Are you alright?”

He must have zoned out in his downward spiral of dread.

“Yeah,” he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. “I think I’m just a little overwhelmed today. There’ve been a lot of, erm, developments in the last few days and my mind is racing.”

“I can definitely understand that,” she said, and squeezed his knee affectionately. He dropped his hand to cover hers and she smiled. “Anything specific you want to chat about?”

Draco shook his head. “Just worried about the press, and Scorp.”

“What time will you be picking him up tomorrow?”

“I usually go pick him up around four. It gives us time to make dinner and wind down so he’s ready for school in the morning.”

“What do you need from me?”

“Anything we plan out will be shot to hell when Scorp starts asking questions. I don’t know how to tell him about any of this. I’m a bit out of my depth. Have you had these talks with any of your nieces and nephews?” Draco finished desperately.

Hermione smiled softly at him and straightened up to lean back in her chair. He missed the heat of her hand on his knee. “Fortunately for you, yes. As you can imagine, neither Harry nor Ron are particularly adept at having scientific conversations with their children, and Ginny was a bit crass about it with James and scared him for a while. Auntie Mia to the rescue with age-appropriate biology lessons,” she joked, half-heartedly. “And of course, the older ones tell the younger ones, and information gets skewed by eight year olds, and I have to do it all over again. Fortunately, Bill and Percy’s kids got the lessons from them, but Angelina about cursed George's other ear off for what he tried to tell their twins about where babies came from. She dropped Freddie and Rox off with me that evening for some biscuit-baking and biology whilst she gave George a piece of her mind.”

Draco had rarely encountered George Weasley after the war, but he had always been cordial, if not friendly. Remembering his antics during Hogwarts, though, it was easy to imagine the stories he might have told his children.

“I’d be happy to have that conversation with Scorpius when we tell him,” Hermione finished. “If that’s what you would like, of course. There are ways to make the information accessible for four year olds that aren't super scientific or misleading.” Hermione’s gesturing hands fell to her lap as she watched him.

Draco nodded his thanks and sent her a small smile. “I would appreciate that.” He fell silent again, and Draco could feel Hermione watching him intently.

“That’s not what’s really bothering you, though, is it?”

“No,” Draco huffed. “It’s the press coverage, and the people. I’m confident we’ll be able to block most of it from reaching him, but we have a hard enough time in public without more angry glares and people muttering at me left and right.”

“Luckily for you, you happen to be having a child with a well-known solicitor,” Hermione remarked smartly. “I’ve sued half the publications in town for libel already and won. They won’t do much to us with the threat of another suit.”

“Maybe not to you,” Draco fretted. “I’m not so lucky, and it’s hard to keep people from believing what they want to believe.”

“Maybe so,” she mused, looking at him thoughtfully. “But that doesn’t have to stop us. It's…” she trailed off, searching for the right words. “It’s a lot like what I was dealing with at the Ministry. Things are changing for the better in the wizarding communities – blood purity beliefs being one of them – but the tides of change don’t just begin on their own. Just like the actual tide, something external has to act as the moon and influence the waters. And for the ripples of change to take hold, something still has to take the plunge and be that point of origination. The war was that nexus point for our generation, sure, but every one of us has the potential to set off our own ripples. You’re doing it yourself, you know. What you did at the manor, what you’re teaching Scorpius in his daily life by breaking away from the old pureblood customs – it’s all going to make a difference much bigger than you could dream of. Yeah, our taking those steps takes a lot of courage –”

Draco snorted. He’d never been a courageous sort. That had been his downfall most of his life.

“-- and sometimes we come up against a hurdle like shoreline or a rock that stops our impact for a little while, but that doesn’t mean what we’ve done isn’t worth it. It doesn't stop the ripples forever. Things like tearing down archaic, bigoted ideals and practices based on blood purity isn’t going to be easy. Just like what I was doing for creature rights at the Ministry wasn’t easy, and when I hit too many obstacles I had to change tactics and start new ripples from somewhere else. But you and I… we have an opportunity to show the older generations that change can and should happen, and that it is happening with us and our cohort. And we may have a rough go of it for a while, sure. Some days will be really hard and we’ll feel like we’re hitting a rock. Sometimes our ripples will come up on easier obstacles, and they’ll change direction and flow with the new tides. Some days may surprise us, and we’ll gain momentum from other people’s ripples, or be the impetus for someone else’s action. And it will be worth it in the end when Scorpius and Sage can live in a world that isn’t threatened by their relationship to one another or who their parents were.”

“I find your courage and strength admirable, Granger,” Draco muttered. “And I agree with you, in theory. But how do you let the press just… not faze you?”

“I have spent well over half my life as an object of public fascination in some twisted way. I was dragged through the mud during the Triwizard Tournament, if you’ll remember. Then being a public enemy. And paying attention to the press clippings and the attack headlines has cost me several personal relationships along the way and caused me to doubt myself in ways I never thought possible. I decided a long time ago that I needed to just… stop focusing on it. I set boundaries. Speculation on my character is tolerated to an extent because I can let it roll off my back, but attacks on my partners or my personal integrity were not.”

“I’m not exactly the sort who lets things roll off his back. I don’t handle criticism well, and I lash out.” Draco muttered.

“I know.” Hermione stared at him, unblinking. “So maybe we roll with that one day and rely on those Slytherin wiles of yours. Perhaps you do an interview and start fighting back against pureblood standards more vocally. Maybe we sue Witch Weekly for something unacceptable they print. Or you can throw your money around and pull together a big bash the likes of which Wizarding Britain has never seen so you can sneer at the haters from the sidelines." Hermione shrugged. "I’m sure you can think of some decidedly more dastardly ways to poke back at the beasts that cause so much strife.”

“Would it actually make a difference in people’s opinions, though?”

Hermione shrugged again. “It might. But we’re speaking in hypotheticals here, Draco. We might be better received than you think. Sure, there will undoubtedly be nasty headlines here or there, but things have really died down over the past few years. Times are changing. The changes you’ve made have not gone unnoticed, I assure you.”

Draco rarely felt so despondent as he did over this issue. He realised, logically, that he should not be panicking yet. He could hear his Mind Healer's voice niggling in the back of his mind, telling him that speculation wasn't going to help and would only increase his anxiety, but the stone in his gut was sinking further by the day, at almost the same rate as his happiness seemed to increase with how things were progressing with Hermione and Sage in his life. It was a sickening dichotomy warring in his head.

Hermione hesitated, and Draco could sense she wanted to say more. He raised his eyebrows at her to encourage her to continue.

“Draco, I know you have had worse treatment than I have in the press – our coverage has been for different reasons and under different motivations. But I do have experience with them in ways you do not, both in managing defamatory claims for clients and in my personal suits. I won’t stand to have you or the children dragged through the mud, and I will make sure that is communicated however necessary.”

Draco nodded listlessly.

“And honestly, you should give thanks that Theo and Padma did this before us – and isn’t Pansy marrying Ernie Macmillan this year? The world has already had a taste of pseudo-Death Eaters getting together with prominent war heroes. We’ll be alright muddling along as we are.”

Draco still wasn’t sure, and he bit his tongue at reminding her that the examples hadn't actually been Marked as he had. He could see Hermione’s conviction. “Thank you.”

“I imagine you’re worried about the hate mail, though?”

Hermione was ticking off his worries one by one. Draco shouldn’t be surprised, he supposed, as her analytical mind had probably already processed through all possible scenarios.

“Do you have an owl post box set up already?”

“I use Brutus for all my personal communications. Everything else gets handled at the office.”

Hermione stood from the table and walked over to their papers from earlier. “Well, I would recommend setting up these charms and wards around your home, if they aren’t there already.” She handed him a neat list of a dozen or so spells. “One of these charms will only allow certain owls to come through your wards so that you can limit direct mail. Take out an owl post box in Diagon – they disallow Howlers and they are destroyed on receipt because of the fire risk. You can identify a short-list of people who can reach you via Floo, as well.”

Draco was once again impressed with Hermione. Most of these charms were totally new to him.

“As far as your office, I would use this charm specifically –” she leaned over to point one out, “-- as it prevents personal communications from being delivered to the building. Only items marked as business communications will be able to get in. The rest can be routed to a separate owl post box.”

“What about public delivery?”

Hermione sighed and tugged her hair free of its bun. She dragged a hand through her tangled curls. “There are charms that one can use to make themselves untraceable to owls, same as a building being made Unplottable, but it would then be complicated if you want to use your personal owl for any reason. They’re also frowned upon by the Ministry, though technically not totally illegal on their face. There are limitations. For example, they can’t be placed on a minor child, as that negates the Trace placed on magical children to prevent misuse of magic and the like. It would be useless in public with Scorpius. If you make sure any of your short-list recipients are aware, you can set up alternative ways to communicate, but I recommend just limiting time in public with Scorpius for a little while, if that’s the concern. Maybe just through the holidays.”

Draco nodded. “I’ll get these set up at home, and get the list to my security team at the office.”

"The charms and wards do work, though," Hermione said in a reassuring voice. "I've had them in place at my office since I started -- can't have owls delivering letters when my Muggle clients are in the office," she shrugged. "And I have had the same set up here since I moved in. It has been several years, and it's relatively easy to adapt to the limitations."

"So you have an owl post box? You responded pretty quickly to my owl last week -- I must have gotten lucky."

"You're on my short list. Letters from you are permitted through my wards."

Draco was mildly surprised, and he felt the corner of his mouth lift in a small smile. "You'll have to help me get them set up the first time."

"Of course. We can do it tomorrow, if you'd like. It can't easily be altered once it's cast, though, so make sure you pull together your list. All names, and if you know their owls' names, that can be helpful. If you want to add or remove people, you basically have to drop the ward and start it again, so it’s better to have a comprehensive list at the beginning."

"Is the owl post office in Diagon open daily?" Draco had never actually been in the cramped building.

"All except Sundays. And they open early, so it would probably be easy to stop in after you drop Scorpius off at school."

After many more minutes spent in discussion of wards and the theory behind warding (during which Hermione handed him no less than three books from her shelves specifically on those topics), Draco’s nerves finally began to settle. Hermione made them another cuppa, and they were sitting on her sofa again when the clock on her mantle chimed half nine.

As if triggered by the bell, Hermione let out a yawn. Draco grinned at her.

“Tired already, Granger? Don’t tell me you’re a morning person.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” she grumbled, and Draco jumped when she shot a foot out suddenly to poke him in the leg. “But no, definitely not a morning person by nature – more by necessity, I suppose, with the firm. I just don’t sleep well most nights. I haven’t gotten more than five hours in a night in more than two months at this point.”

Draco reached out to slide his hand up her shin where it stretched out on the sofa between them. Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut at his touch.

“Are – are you sure you’d like me to stay?”

Hermione's eyes shot back open as she looked over at him. “Absolutely. If you’d still like to, that is. I just figured with Scorpius at your in-laws and our discussion earlier, you’d like to try shagging in a real bed.” A mischievous smile spread across her face, and Draco felt the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“Absolutely.”

“Well then,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, “why don’t you pop back to yours to grab anything you’ll need for the night?”

Draco stood, and after a little cajoling, pulled Hermione to her feet alongside him. He stepped into her space and tugged her frame against his. It was reminiscent of their first embrace all those months ago, except he could feel the hard bump of their child pressed between them.

He cupped her jaw gently, and tilted her head up to his for a lingering kiss.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he promised as he pulled away. “Can I bring you anything while I’m out?”

“Got any more of Scorp’s biscuits?” she said, quirking a lazy smile at him.

“I’ll check.”

They parted with another kiss, and Draco Flooed away.