Shaken by the Violence of Existing

"Shaken by the Violence of Existing"

By C.K. Blake

So distinct and beautiful,

I remember every single word said to me.

I realize the meaning of love

Is a place away and above

The limitations of my being

I'll wait for you to come to me again.

There is no one for me after you.

No one who took the time

To understand my stone cold point of view,

The self-destruct shadow,

And the pain turns to truth.

Wait for it, wait for the drop.

Feel the size, the weight,

And the distance from eye to cheek.

I know too well that I depend on

Sensory memory cravings for time,

Timeless stood in our white heat.

--Joy Drop "No One"

---------

The emptiness was supposed to lessen, but that was a lie. The emptiness was like the pain, still there, with only moments of distraction. It was always there in the dark, during meals, lying awake in bed at night, thinking about the past, or playing with the thought of how things might have been. If only things had been different. If only other choices had been made. If only. If only. IF ONLY.

It was a curse, a curse that haunted him every waking hour of the day. If only he hadn't gone to the tower, he wouldn't have fallen for the impossible Muggleborn witch. If only he hadn't taken the mark, then she wouldn't have left him. If only he'd told her the truth, then maybe he would know his child. If only he could face her now then maybe, just maybe, he could find some peace, whether she forgave him or not.

He closed his eyes to shut out the thoughts, trying to think of anything to make it all go away, but all he could see was her face. Hear her words in his head, over and over. There was no escape.

After the war he'd given up hope. He'd been in too deep. Nearly killed by Deatheaters and almost arrested by aurors. How he'd escaped, he still wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was alive. Things had been a mess after the defeat of Voldemort. His father was dead, his mother was dead, the family name left in ruins, although he was still rich beyond belief.

Once his work was finished, and all the Deatheaters tried and sentenced, he'd been of no use anymore. So he had retreated, from the wizarding world, from hope, from almost everything, except the memories. So he lived in Malfoy Manor, under the care of loyal house elves, he was surprised that they would want to stay on after how his father had treated them, but then again they were house elves.

Then one day a snowy white owl came with a letter written in green ink. At first he'd thought it was from Dumbledore, since only Dumbledore had the audacity to write letters in green ink, but he was surprised by the unfamiliar handwriting. He'd seen to it that the owl was fed and watered and then he'd opened the letter. Upon reading it, his legs turned to jelly and he fell to his knees, and took his head into his hands, and still managed to clutch the letter.

Malfoy,

I thought you should know that Hermione is well. She's just given birth to a son. She finally felt the need to reveal who the father was, although you and I know that I already knew. I'm just glad she finally told me. I feel I should warn you that Ron is threatening to find you and "tear you a new one". He doesn't know what you and I talked about that night. Neither does Hermione. I will leave that story to you to tell.

I thought you would want to know that your son is healthy, and has an amazing set of lungs. He also looks nothing like Hermione, so we've assumed that he will look, (and judging by his powerful lungs and overwhelming "charm") and act like you. So you should be proud.

Hermione wouldn't tell either Ron or me the full nature of your relationship, only that she cared for you a great deal. Ron is still coming to terms with that. As for me, I can safely assume that she cared for you a great deal, and well, we've had that talk already. I have seen to taking care of Hermione and the baby, but she can be stubborn at times, as I'm sure you know.

I would like to leave you with this. You have a beautiful son (despite his Malfoy lineage) and you are welcomed to visit him whenever you wish. I extend that invitation, and I will make arrangements. Hermione doesn't even know that I've written you. Oh, and his name is Xander Draco. Best wishes to you.

Harry Potter

He wasn't sure how long he remained there, kneeling on the floor, clutching the letter and his head. Finally he threw his head back and let out a long wailing howl of pain, sorrow, and most of all regret. His heart constricted in his chest and he wondered how he could ever face his son.

He swallowed thickly and slowly got up to his feet. He walked into his study, pulled out parchment, quill and ink from his desk, and began to write a reply to Potter.

Potter,

I'm pleased to know that the child and his mother are in good health. Their livelihood is a matter of great importance to me. However, I have given this a lot of thought. My son deserves a respectable life, something that I am not capable of giving. All I have is money. The respect and dignity has been stripped from the Malfoy name, and I am not worthy to be anyone's father.

I expect that he would be happier with you, and I suppose with your own background you would want children. Please see to it that he is happy. If you or Hermione should ever need assistance financially, I assure you that I can and will provide.

Maybe someday I can be there for my son, but until that day claim him as your own. But please, and this is all I ask, tell him the truth. Everything. If he grows to despise me I want it to be because of knowledge, not a lack there of.

As far as Weasley is concerned, anything he could do is nothing compared to what I am capable of doing to myself, and if he dared to harm one hair on my son's head, not that I imagine he would for Hermione's sake or his own, I would see to it that he would suffer greatly.

It seems odd to write about this child as my son. I wish I had more to offer him than just money. It seems that love is placed above the limitations of my being. I don't know if there has ever been a Malfoy capable of love, but I hope that with Hermione as his mother, and with you there to take my place that he might know love.

You are a lucky man Potter. Live for me, as I am unable to do so for myself.

Draco Malfoy

Draco then sealed the letter with blood red wax and the Malfoy family crest. He looked at the seal and contemplated whether to send the letter or to rip it up. Finally with a shaky hand he put a charm on it so that only Harry could get it, then summoned a house elf, and told it to take the letter to the white owl that was being looked after in the Owlery, with express directions to send the letter to Harry Potter.

The elf gave him a quizzical look, but after one look at her master she nodded, and disappeared to the Owlery, where she found the owl, attached the letter to its leg, and told it to go to Harry Potter. The owl ruffled her feathers, gave a soft hoot, and then fluttered out of the window.

---------

Harry heard a faint tapping at the window. He turned to see Hedwig, restlessly tapping her beak on the glass. He smiled and then opened the window to let her in. She landed on his shoulder and then nipped his ear. He gave her a scolding, but stopped when he noticed the letter she carried. Funny, he hadn't noticed it until after Hedwig had held out her leg. He took the letter from her and noticed the seal.

He sighed, wondering why he'd written to Malfoy, and then he wondered what the letter said. He opened it and read through the letter. His eyes widened and he could hardly believe what he read. It sounded almost as though Draco Malfoy had given up hope. Harry shook his head, sighed, and then the baby cried. He walked into the nursery and quickly changed an atrociously dirty nappy. He looked up as though asking heaven for guidance and wondered when Hermione would get home from her new job at Flourish & Blotts.

---------Five Years Later---------

Slowly she came awake, consciousness flowing through her body. She tried to stretch and that's when she noticed the arms encircling her waist and the body pressed against her back. She sighed and carefully rolled over so as not to disturb him, because she knew who it was that had found his way into her bed. She smiled sadly as she looked at him, his black hair a nightmare of untidiness, his eyelashes little spiky half moons on his pale cheeks as he slept, and his mouth slightly opened causing him to snore lightly. She noticed his body tense as he began to wake, but still he didn't open his eyes. His arms pulled back and he stretched. He finally opened his eyes and reached over to the bedside table, fumbled for his glasses, put them on, and then looked at the woman he'd held in his arms only moments before.

She took a deep breath. "Harry," she began, but he cut her off. "I know, but I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry Hermione. I know I should have said something before just climbing in, but you looked so peaceful I couldn't bring myself to wake you. I just feel better when I hold you."

"It's okay, but you know how I feel about us. I just don't want you getting hurt. You're my best friend, but I can't love you like that. It's been five years, Harry, it's time for you to move on. I'm glad that you've been here for me. You took me and my son into your home, you've cared for us while I've gotten on my feet, but now I'm the manager of Flourish & Blotts and I have enough money saved to afford a flat or a house. It's too much to ask of you if I stay here. And you need to find someone to love you. You're using me as an excuse to keep everyone else away."

Harry sat up and bowed his head, running his fingers through his tangled hair. "I know, but this isn't easy. I love you and Xander, despite his similarities to a certain Slytherin."

Hermione frowned. "Harry, I only told you because you needed to know. I have never criticized your choices and I do not like you criticizing mine. I made a mistake, but it turned out to be one of the best mistakes of my life. You know I love Xander."

"Of course you love him, and I don't question that, but you can move on too. Marry me, please? It's been five years. Don't you think you've waited for him long enough?"

Hermione sat up then and glared at him. "You know why I can't marry you. I will not put you through that. You need to find someone who is in love with you Harry. I love you like a brother, and I'm grateful for all that you've done for my son and me, but you know we couldn't work out that way. Please start dating again."

"And what are you going to do? Work all day, raise Xander by yourself, and pine over losing Malfoy for the rest of your life?" Harry snapped.

"That is enough! Leave Draco out of this, he has nothing to do with what goes on between you and me, and nothing beyond friendship is going on between us."

Harry snorted. "Don't you see? He has everything to do with us! I knew Draco was Xander's father before you ever told me. I saw Draco in the Astronomy Tower one night and I overheard him saying things. He told me, Hermione. He told me how you were the one that left him, and he told me why. He also made me swear that I wouldn't tell you that he was a spy. He did that so you wouldn't be in any danger because of him. You didn't know he was a spy until after the war, but I knew. It ripped me apart every time you would ask what Deatheaters had been killed, captured, or injured. You know, he asked me to do him a favor that night on the Astronomy Tower..."

Hermione's ears perked up as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What did he ask?"

"He wanted me to look after you and the baby. He wanted me to marry you, so that you wouldn't be frowned upon by the wizard community, but I would have asked you to marry me regardless, and every time you refused. And then when Xander was born I wrote to him. He only ever sent one reply," Harry said, the sadness creeping into his voice, and then he looked up at Hermione. "And he sends a Christmas and birthday gift to Xander every year. It's always wrapped in red and gold foil paper, labeled to Xander with love, but it is never signed."

Hermione got out of bed, and swallowed thickly before asking, "What did the letter say?"

Harry got out of bed, pulled on his jeans over his boxers and then reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He opened it up and took out a worn piece of parchment; he knew what the letter said by heart. He then handed it over to Hermione.

Hermione read through the letter several times. Tears came to her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Harry tried to put his arms around her to comfort her, but she pulled away from him. Finally she turned to face him. "Why didn't you tell me that you wrote to him? Why didn't you show me this?"

"Would it have changed things?" Harry asked.

She blinked her eyes and then looked up at him, her brown eyes meeting his green ones. "I don't know, but I can't stay here with you anymore. You've looked after Xander and me, and I am grateful, but this isn't good for you. I know that having me here is killing you, Harry, and I don't want to hurt you anymore. I will start looking for a flat or small house somewhere. This has nothing to do with you Harry, you've been wonderful, but I've stayed here too long. I've given you false hope, and for that I am sorry."

"If you feel that way, then I guess there is no stopping you, but if you and Xander ever need a place to stay I'll always be there for you..." He sounded like he wanted to say more, but the sound of racing footsteps in the hallway cut him off as the door was thrown open and a little boy, no older than five with platinum blond hair and grey eyes stood.

He looked in Harry's direction and scowled and then raced toward Hermione. She knelt down and put her arms around him, holding him against her. He squirmed, and then noticed the tear streaks down her face.

"Mummy? Why are you sad? Is Uncle Harry being a bad boy?" he asked.

Hermione nearly choked on laughter. "No, sweetie. Mummy just has to do something. We are going to see your grandparents today, okay?"

"Really?" he asked with a gleam in his eye. "Grandpa promised to show me the tooth drill the next time we went to see him!"

"No, we are going to see your other grandparents," she explained gently.

Harry's eyes widened. "But Hermione, they are..."

"I know," she said, cutting him off. "I want to teach him to respect his family though. I have the day off, so we are going to visit the Malfoy family plot. He needs to know where he came from."

Xander looked up at his mother, confusion evident in his grey eyes. "I have other grandpas and grandmas?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but they are dead, and when they are dead we take them flowers and put it on their graves out of respect. It lets them know that they are not forgotten."

Harry snorted. "Flowers for Lucius' grave. They would wilt the moment they are placed."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded, and this elicited a giggle from Xander who enjoyed watching his mother scold Harry.

"Yes, just like him, even gets his laughs at my expense," Harry said and then bent down and began to tickle Xander.

Xander squealed with laughter and tried to fight Harry off, but the tickling was too much. Hermione just rolled her eyes, and found some clothes, a pair of gray slacks a white button up blouse, black socks, her black dress shoes, some under things, and then went to the bathroom down the hall to shower, brush her teeth, and prepare for the day.

Meanwhile Harry fixed breakfast, looked after Xander, and made sure that the little boy had a bath in the bathroom downstairs. Harry then supervised as Xander got dressed in a pair of jeans and a Gryffindor t-shirt that Minerva McGonagall had sent him for Christmas. Xander scowled at the shirt and then looked at Harry. "I like my green one better. I want to wear that one."

Harry sighed and found the green Slytherin t-shirt Snape had sent Xander for Christmas. Xander quickly changed shirts. Harry was dishing out the eggs and toast when Hermione finally came down, fully dressed, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked at Xander and shook her head as she realized that he was wearing a Slytherin t-shirt.

"Honestly, you couldn't wear the Gryffindor one?" she asked the little boy.

He shook his head and then looked at her with an expression that clearly read I am above Gryffindor pettiness.

They sat down and ate, Harry complaining about having to go in to do paperwork, because Alastor Moody was finally retiring for the nineteenth time. After breakfast Harry cleared away the dishes with one sweep of his wand and then apparated to the Ministry of Magic. Hermione apparated with Xander to Diagon Alley, where she brought a bouquet of white roses, and then she apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor.

She sighed and began walking around the stone walls protecting the property, wondering how she'd ended up at Malfoy Manor when she'd wanted to go to the Malfoy family plot. She held Xander's hand and they walked until they came to the entrance of the Malfoy family plot. She pushed on the spiked iron-gate and with a loud squeak it opened. She took Xander's hand and led him inside. She looked around at the faded marble stones until she found the two newest additions; black stone marble, one marked Lucius Xavier Malfoy and the one next to it marked Narcissa Aurora Black Malfoy. She took a single rose and placed it on the grave of Lucius and then she placed the other eleven roses on Narcissa's grave. She knelt near Narcissa's grave and softly whispered, "How did you love a man like Lucius?"

She was startled when she heard a reply from behind her, in a voice that sent chills up her spine. "The same way you could love a man like me."

Hermione's eyes widened as she squeezed her son's hand and slowly turned around. Her son asked, "Mummy, who is he?"

There he stood, the man with platinum blond hair, and grey storm cloud eyes, the man who'd stolen her heart and given her a son. He tilted his head and looked at the little boy, and something inside of him broke. He knelt down and looked at the child in wonder. He held his hand out to the little boy, but stopped short of touching him. The boy looked up at his mother.

"Hermione?" the man asked. "Is this..."

"Yes," she answered. "His name is Xander Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" the man asked incredulously.

"It is a part of who he is. He comes from a great man, even if the history of the name is a bit dodgy," she said and then knelt down next to her son, and looked into his eyes, much like his father's and asked, "Xander, sweetie, remember those pictures I showed you?"

The little boy's face lit up. "You said they were pictures of Daddy before the war," then he screwed up his face in a disapproving expression as he continued, "And Uncle Harry called him a poncy stupid arse..."

Hermione quickly covered his mouth before he could go on. The man looked from Xander to Hermione with a raised eyebrow. "I see that Potter has certainly educated him on some things," he said and then reached down and lightly ruffled the silky platinum strands of the little boy's hair. "So, what else do you know about the man in the pictures?"

Xander wrinkled his nose at having his hair ruffled and then looked at the man scrutinizing him. "Why do grown ups always go for the hair? And you are the man from the pictures, so you are my..." he paused and looked at the man, seeing his father in the flesh for the first time. "Daddy?"

"Hello Xander, I was beginning to think I might never see you. You're such a handsome boy, and so smart, you get that from your mum," the man said softly and ran his fingers across the little boy's cheek.

Suddenly Xander kicked Draco in the knee and ran behind Hermione, peaking out to see the man grimace and rub his injured leg.

"He's my son, that's for certain," the man said standing up.

He held out a hand for Hermione and helped her stand. She reached behind her and grabbed Xander by the hand. He slowly crept from behind her, scowling and bracing himself for a lecture, which was delivered promptly.

"Xander Draco Malfoy! I don't know what has come over you! You know better. Now you apologize right now, and we will discuss punishments later," Hermione scolded.

The little boy looked up at his mother, his bottom lip quivering and his grey eyes pleading. She shook her head, he sighed, and the pouty scowl was back in place. He looked up at the man that was his father and muttered, "I'm sorry."

The man shook his head, then ran a hand through his hair, a dazed looked and a small smile creeping over his face. "He's just like I was. I used to pull that face on my mother all the time. She was a bit more accommodating though."

"Well Draco, I didn't want to deal with a spoiled little boy, so I don't give in as much. Harry is the one that spoils him, and the gods know how I put up with him after Ron baby-sits. They spoil him rotten, actually I think they are afraid to tell him no," she said.

"Um..." Draco began as nervousness began to flutter through his stomach. He blinked, as he was not used to nervousness, and then continued. "Would you like to come up to the house? It's much more accommodating than this place. It's almost lunch time, so you two must be hungry."

Hermione nodded and then Xander reached out and tugged on Draco's trouser leg. Draco looked down, a lump in his throat as Xander asked, "Do you have fettuccini alfredo?"

"I think Sunny could make that, although I haven't had that in a long time. Why? Is it your favorite?" Draco asked.

Xander nodded and then asked, "Who's Sunny?"

"She's a house elf," Draco answered, and then looked up at Hermione. "Before you say anything, they wanted to stay and they are treated fairly, and I give them wages, well at least as much as they will take. They've settled for five knuts a week."

With that they began walking toward the gates of Malfoy Manor. Draco led them onto the grounds and then up to the house. Xander looked up at the house, his eyes wide in awe. "It's so big," he managed in a breathless whisper.

"I know, but it's home, has been for all of my life," Draco answered.

Once they were inside a house elf, Sunny, popped up. Xander went with her and that left Draco and Hermione alone for the first time. Hermione looked as though she wanted to go after her son, but Draco put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped. She took a deep breath and slowly turned to face him.

"It's all right, he's in good hands. I wouldn't have let Sunny take him if I didn't trust her," Draco answered.

Hermione drew in her bottom lip and tried to fight the tears she felt rising to her eyes. When she managed to get control of herself she noticed him looking at her, and that was when the anger took over.

"Where have you been Draco? What have you been doing, and where were you?" she snapped.

He turned to a door and waved for her to follow him. He opened the door and it led into the study. He sat down in a large black leather chair, and Hermione took a seat on the chair across from it. Draco didn't sit for long, as he grew restless. He stood up and began to pace the room. Then he stopped suddenly, and was standing before Hermione. He knelt down before her, so they were at eye level. He put his arms on either armrest of the chair, careful not to touch her, and looked her straight in the eyes.

"After the war I returned here. I haven't left the grounds since. How could I face the world after the things my father did? The Malfoy name is nothing. All I have is money, property, and this house filled with old nightmares and memories. And how could I ever face you or my son..." his voice broke. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. "You thought I betrayed you."

"I would have stayed if you'd told me," she whispered.

"No," he snarled and fought back the urge to shake her. "You didn't stay around long enough for me to explain. You saw the mark and you left! You never gave me the chance, but it doesn't matter, I wasn't good enough for the chance. What could I have offered you that Potter couldn't? At least he's given you a home and a respectable life. He's provided for you and my son, and I'm surprised that Xander doesn't have his name. I'm sure Potter has been good at playing Daddy."

Her hand flew out and caught his cheek. "How dare you! Harry and I are just friends! And how could you ask him to propose to me?! Do you have any idea how he feels about me? It kills him every time I say no!"

Draco looked up from his smarting cheek. "You said no? So you aren't..."

"I have never married. Harry took us in. I didn't want to put a burden on my family, and at first they thought Harry was the father, but then when I gave birth they knew the truth. He doesn't look a thing like me, and he certainly never looked like Harry. I thought I would live with him just long enough to get on my feet, but then I settled in. I grew comfortable, so I never left. I should have, but I didn't. You see as long as I stayed with Harry I didn't have to worry about love. I just didn't realize I was hurting him until today. Oh gods! I've made a mess of things, and now you, today, being here. This is a mistake. Let me get Xander and we'll go."

"How is this a mistake? I haven't left this house in over five years. Maybe I'm the one that made the mistake. I should have been there. I should have seen him come into this world. I should have fought for you," he said softly.

"Love isn't above the limitations of your being Draco. And if it is, then I can love you and Xander enough for the both of us. I've been waiting for you to come after me for over five years. How much longer do I have to wait?"

He looked at her quizzically, recognizing the things she'd said as being from the letter he'd written Potter, and then he asked in awe, "You would have me back? After everything?"

She nodded and he put his arms around her, and the cold inside of him was melting, fading. She held him back, and he felt tear drops on his shoulder. He pulled back and tilted her face up. He smiled at her, brushed the tears from her cheeks, and then their lips met in a soft chaste kiss.

"I have something I've wanted to ask you for a long time. Hermione, would you marry me?" he asked.

Before she could answer the door was thrown open and Xander came into the room. Draco looked at him, and smiled. "Xander," he said, and the little boy looked at Draco, suspicion in his eyes. "Would you like to have me as your daddy from this moment on?"

Xander looked from the man kneeling on the floor to his mother, and saw the look on his mother's face. He'd never seen her so happy before. "You make my mummy happy, so I think I could live with it."

Draco chuckled and then turned to Hermione, tears afresh in her eyes. "Only you," she whispered and then threw her arms around him and kissed him breathless. Draco's eyes widened at the power of Hermione's kiss, but he was happy, because he took her answer and the kiss as a yes.

Xander made a face of disgust and then said, "Mummy never answered Uncle Harry like that."

Draco waved the little boy over, and Xander timidly approached, then Draco put his arms around the little boy and held him close. He didn't even realize that tears had slipped from his eyes until Xander asked, "Are you crying?"

Draco laughed and then ruffled the little boy's hair much to the latter's displeasure. Draco looked up toward Hermione, and smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time. He closed his eyes thanking whatever fates had intervened, and then he opened them and they were still there, his family. His body trembled as he fought to regain control, but he wept nonetheless, shaken by the violence of existing, but glad that things were finally turning in his favor.

Hermione reached into her blouse, her fingers running over a familiar pendant, a diamond and white gold pendant of the constellation Draconis, a pendant she'd worn every day since she'd received it. Draco caught sight of the pendant and memories flooded his mind. He remembered that first night in the Astronomy Tower when she'd promised to give him a reason to live. He remembered the kisses and holding her. He remembered their long talks, giving her that pendant, and making love to her for the first time. Every moment he'd ever spent with her had been one tied to the stars, and that had made it almost like a dream, but now she was his, and the dream was finally his, was finally real, and it tasted like apples and strawberries...

End.