Future Parents Program

Chapter 8: Discovery

Draco poked his head around the corner at the end of the hall. "Do you see anyone?" he hissed dramatically. Hermione stood in the center of the connecting hall. She looked right and left. "No." She was using a normal voice. Malfoy was the drama queen, not her.

"Well?" he barked in a whisper. "Get a move on, Granger! Go check the other hall!" He tiptoed around the corner he'd been hiding behind. Rolling her eyes, Hermione complied. She could almost bet money that if Malfoy had been able to manage keeping a set of clothes on for more than an hour he would have been wearing a black thief's suit and a matching mask. As it was he looked a bit ridiculous trying for extreme caution in nothing but a green bed sheet. She looked back. He was shimmying along the wall, back pressed as close to the stone and he could manage. One would have thought he was a cat burgler on the highest ledge of the tallest tower instead of in a normal hall in the middle of the night with little to no chance of discovery.

Hermione could have made this a lot easier on him if she had just told him that before they left. Ever the efficient one, she had drawn up prefect patrolling schedules on the train to school, making a prefects' meeting unnecessary. That meant that she knew when and where all of the prefects would be at any given time. They wouldn't be found unless she wanted them to be.

Malfoy could be walking like a normal person without fear instead of jumping at every shadow and depending on her to guard his virtue. Then again, Hermione thought with a smirk as she made a show of glancing around the other corner, where was the fun in that?

Ick stayed quiet the entire time, taking in everything around her with a curiosity that had to have been part of Hermione's contribution. Draco had the feeling that the little girl was cataloguing everything around her. Now however, was not the time to think about that. They were on a mission to get a wardrobe. Granger was certainly taking her sweet time about the whole thing, he thought sourly even as he checked out her bum through her Muggle jeans. Damn hedonists were going to be the death of him. Thank the gods the sheet was a heavy one and didn't tent up like it should have. Did the girl own one decent outfit? One that didn't show off her curves to all and sundry?

They finally made it to Dumbledore's office before Draco could have a heart attack over the way her Muggle shirt moved when she did. They gave the password quickly and stepped into the moving stairwell. The Headmaster was waiting for them despite the late hour. He glanced back from his window. One eyebrow shot up to his hairline at Draco's appearance. "I don't pretend to keep up with the latest fashions, Mr. Malfoy, but I do not think that this one works for you," he said mildly.

If Malfoy could have told the Headmaster what he thought of him without getting expelled, he would have. But expelled meant back to the manor permanently, with no peace from his mother's antics. Malfoy made a mental note to make a list of all the things he wanted to say to Dumbledore and resolved to read him the riot act the moment he graduated. "Mother's placed a charm on my clothes. We have to get to the manor to make her give them back and get some things for Ick." He indicated the little girl in his arms.

Dumbledore faced them fully now. He came closer and looked at the baby. "Ick?"

"Vivica, Headmaster," Hermione interjected with a look to Draco that spoke volumes. He rolled his eyes. "Ick, Vivica, whatever."

Dumbledore held out his hand the little girl. She cocked her head at him as she sat straight. After a moment she seemed to make a decision and held her arms out to be held. Draco felt just a bit betrayed. The Old Dragon laughed that little gravelly laugh of his as he took her with an ease that bespoke practice. "Hello, Vivica." She was playing with his beard, tugging on one of the brightly colored beads interwoven there. "Such a pretty child. She has your curly hair, Miss Granger."

Draco crossed his arms. "She's a Malfoy everywhere else," he stated. There was just a hint of pride. "And Malfoys do not run around mostly naked."

Hermione stepped forward. "May he have permission to go back home, Headmaster? It would only be a night. He can't continue like this. He also says that his mother has things that we need in order to take care of Ick--I mean, Vivica."

"Certainly, Mr. Malfoy. Although I'm sure I'm disappointing several ladies in this school by giving my permission to retrieve your clothes."

Malfoy smirked at Hermione as if to say, See? Even the Headmaster knows that there are girls out there who want me.

Not missing anything, indeed.

He jerked a thumb at Hermione. "She's got to come with me to. The whole married project thing and all that."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course." He walked them over to the fireplace. Hermione looked at Malfoy with apprehension. "Are you sure it's ok for me to come too? I mean, will your mother....?" Malfoy waved off the sentiment. "She'll be thrilled to death once she sees Ick, and the fact that you helped make it happen will qualify you for sainthood in her eyes."

"Vivica," Hermione corrected weakly.

Draco reached for the baby. "Whatever. Time to go, kid." She waved gaily at the Headmaster over his shoulder as they stepped into the fireplace. Draco tried to ignore the racing in his heart when he wrapped an arm tightly around Hermione's shoulder, Ick cradled between their bodies. He couldn't ignore the smell of freesia and lavender that drifted from her hair, however. He sniffed delicately, resisting the urge to bury his face in the tresses that pressed into his shoulder.

Hermione hoped that no one noticed that her hand shook slightly reaching for the floo powder. Why was she so nervous? Why as she suddenly very very very aware of Malfoy's chest mere inches from her eyes. It was a very nice chest too, if her peripheral vision was anything to go by. For the very first time she noticed that Malfoy wasn't just some entity that had hated her with a passion for six years.....He was a boy. As in a boy like Krum, one that had emotions and attractive qualities.

When the hell had that happened?

"Put your arm around me, Granger," he said thickly. Oh, but she didn't want to do that, not one bit. But if she didn't, there was a chance that they wouldn't get to the same place. So she sucked it up and wrapped her arm around his slim hips, trying to block the feel of skin burning skin with very little success. "Are we ready?" she asked gruffly.

"As I'll ever be," was Draco's dry reply. It was full of innuendo.

Time to go, Hermione thought with panic. "Malfoy Manor!" They disappeared with a poof. Dumbledore shook his head at the place where the couple had just been, finally releasing the roaring laughter he had been holding back. Tears leaked from his blue eyes. "Oh, Narcissa!"

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"MOTHER!"

The roar made Narcissa nearly spill tea all over her precious blue prints. "Draco!" she gasped. She got up and raced out of her bedroom down the hall and to the railing that over looked the foyer. There stood her son, nearly naked as the day he'd come into the world but for a sheet. He was covered with barely any soot at all, considering the impeccable care the house elves took of that particular fireplace. Only a smudge on the shoulder and his cheek were evident. But it wasn't that bit of information that drew Narcissa's attention. Draco had not only brought someone with him, he was currently holding the hand of the infamous Hermione Granger....who held a baby.

"Draco!" Narcissa cried in delight. "You brought them to meet me!" She knew it was no such thing, but chose to ignore that. She ran to the stairs and rushed down them. She was in such a hurry that she tripped several steps up. In a flash her son had her in his arms, sweeping her off her feet. He glared down at her. "For the love of the gods, woman, are you trying to break your neck?"

Malfoy's mother was beautiful. Hermione remembered her from years before, but somehow mere memory did her no justice. Narcissa had long blonde hair that flowed free like a young girl's to her waist. She was surprisingly young, likely only in her thirties. She could have honestly been a supermodel.

And Draco had never looked so--manly. He held his mother cradled in his arms with no effort at all. Narcissa's robin egg blue nightgown made them both look ethereal. His bare upper body rippled with muscles Hermione had never noticed until now. His longish hair gave him a rogue's look.

He-they-looked perfect. Hermione started a little when Narcissa turned her attention to her. "Hello!" she said from the safety of Draco's arms. "I'm Draco's mother!"

Draco set her down firmly on the main floor. "Be careful," he said gruffly. "Mother, this is Hermione Granger." He watched as his mother wasted no time rushing over to Hermione's side and welcoming her with open arms that clearly stunned Granger. She looked over his mother's shoulder at him, appearing extremely unsure of herself. You're on your own, Granger, he thought to himself.

"What a darling little girl," Narcissa gushed over Ick. She took her out of Hermione's arms and held up high before cradling her close. "What's her name?"

Hermione's brows furrowed. "How did you know the baby was a girl?"

"Because," Draco snorted. "Mother's the one behind the whole Future Parents Program scheme."

Narcissa tried to deny it. "Now Draco--"

He wagged a finger at her in accusation. "Don't 'now, Draco' me, Narcissa Black! I knew the moment Dumbledore announced the program who was behind it. You'd been on this crazy kick about grandchildren for two whole weeks and then suddenly went quiet. It was no coincidence that Dumbledore had the same idea. He needed funding and research, both of which are easily at our disposal. Then my clothes start disappearing. And let's not forget that little comment you made not three minutes ago. 'Oh Draco!'" he mimicked in a falsetto voice, " 'You brought them to meet me!' How did you know who they were, Mummykins, if your fingerprints weren't all over this entire scenario to begin with?"

Narcissa pouted. "You always were a bit smarter than I wanted you to be."

Hermione looked from one Malfoy to the next. What kind of family was this? She answered her own question with a shake of her head. A Slytherin one, of course. "So," she drawled out. "Does this mean that she can stop the program too?"

Two pairs of eyes pinned her where she stood. They watched her closely as though searching for some secret in her face. "Oh, no," Narcissa said. "I merely started it. It's Dumbledore's project now."

Draco was wondering just how badly Granger wanted to get out of working with him. Did she think that being that close to him all the time would be that bad? He was a bit insulted. He looked at Ick. She was a pretty baby, seemed happy enough. Surely Hermione could hang in there if for no other reason than Ick's welfare. But then what was he thinking? She'd stick it out simply because it was at Dumbledore's request that she do this. She was disgustingly loyal like that.

A moment of silence ensued. "Um, Malfoy, didn't you want to ask your mother for something?" Hermione prompted.

"What? Oh." He turned to Narcissa and stuck out his hand. "I want my clothes back and I want them now, free of charms." He snapped his fingers impatiently. "And I want clothes for Ick, too. I'm sure you've got something around here somewhere. I know you have bottles," he said in a significant tone.

"Ick?" Narcissa asked.

"Vivica," Hermione corrected. Draco sighed. "Whatever!"

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Less than an hour later, Draco was fully clothed and digging through the attic. "Go upstairs and find it Draco," he mocked his mother. "Find what, woman? There is hundreds of years worth of junk up here and you actually expect me to find something in all this? You could have had it all in a room waiting for me, but NOOOO, we had to stick it willy-nilly in the most remote place in the house!"

He kicked a trunk in frustration. It was dark, he was tired, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his nice big bed downstairs. He stopped for a second. Wonder where Herm-Granger would sleep? There was a pram in Draco's room that would serve as a temporary baby bed for Ick. Would she want to be near the baby? That would mean....

Bugger.

He thought of two bodies (you could guess whose) pressed together in the dark, wrapped in his blankets. He groaned. Damn her. Damn him. Now that he had seen what she looked like underneath her robes he'd never have a platonic dream again.

Why was this happening to him? He'd been perfectly content. He didn't need Granger or any of her accompanying complications. She was the Gryffindor Princess. She was everything he wasn't. She was his nemesis. She wasn't interested in him. She barely realized that he was even male! He didn't want to want her or dream about her or think about her ever again! Draco threw his fist into another trunk, knocking it over. It tumbled to the attic floor with a great commotion and hit a flat cloth covered object of some kind. Draco caught it with ease before it too fell.

The cloth fell off of it, and Draco gasped when he realized what it was too late. "No," he choked out seconds before the mirror reached out and sucked his mind into the world of nightmares.

He had first seen this mirror himself when he was six years old and being taught a lesson for some sort of infraction. His father had shouted at him that the Malfoy code of behavior was not to be broken. Lucious had never hit him in his life, but there were ways of playing with the mind. He heard his mother crying and begging his father to stop, that Draco didn't know any better. His father replied coldly that his son would know better after he was through with him.

This was the land of the mirror, Draco knew. The counterpart to the Mirror of Erisad, this particular mirror showed the witness his worst fear.

He was watching Hermione suddenly. They were in school. Classes had begun. He watched her every day, wanting to say something to her. Every time he tried to come close she would stare right through him. He saw himself at night dreaming of her, wanting her with him. He saw her kissing someone else, some unknown figure that Draco wanted to kill without ever seeing his face. He shouted at Hermione to stop. He told her that she was meant to be with him, not someone else.

She never heard him.

Draco was at graduation. Hermione was crying happy tears and accepting her beaus proposal seconds after the ceremony had ended. He was then at the wedding, watching helplessly as she walked down the aisle looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. He was at St. Mungos when she gave birth to another man's child, he was at the platform watching her help her child to the train for the first time, someone else holding her while she cried. He saw himself grow old and alone while she was so happy with someone else.

Hermione was always in the light, while he remained forever in the shadows until he died, calling her name with his last breath.

Draco threw the mirror away with all the force he could muster. It flew to land in some unknown place in the massive attic. He paid it no attention, instead falling to his knees to bury his face in his hands. His heart pounded painfully and his breath couldn't seem to steady. Why? Why did she never hear him? Why did she leave him to the shadows?

In the solitude of Malfoy Manor's dusty attic, Draco Black Malfoy was forced to face something he had been denying with all of his being for longer than he could remember.

He was in love with Hermione Jane Granger.

And he didn't want to be in the shadows anymore.