Imprinted

Imprinted

It was a breezy September evening when a cloaked figure knocked on the door of 9240 Brutherin St. in the Godric Flat development south of London. Hermione didn't open the door, knowing perfectly well who was on the other side.

"Granger," the voice growled. "Let me the fuck in to see my kid."

"Persephone doesn't have a father," she shouted at him standing on the other side of the door. "Not as far as I'm concerned."

Cursing was heard from the other side and a spell was worthlessly cast at the door. "Damnit Granger, you can't keep me out of her life!"

"For what you did to me I can," she insisted wanting nothing more than to spoon out Zabini's bowel.

"How long are you going to hold that against me?"

"Forever, you sick bastard." She grasped the doorknob for support and continued hoping her daughter upstairs wouldn't stir. "What you did to me was wrong, everyone knows it."

"I've dealt with the punishment long enough!" Blaise roared from the other side. "I lost Malfoy, my only friend. I lost all respect I ever had at Hogwarts. Even the damn Slytherins turned their back on me."

"You deserved it," she spat remembering back to that day.

"Go on Miss Granger," the Headmaster spoke encouragingly, "we're all ears."

"Blaise Zabini raped me a week ago," there was a collective murmur around the hall at this but Hermione continued. "And," she said glancing at Malfoy quick for some sort of encouragement, "I'm pregnant."

Blaise didn't even stand a chance. In a second Ron and Harry had him on the ground throwing punches at every inch of his face they could reach. All the houses were on their feet shouting insults at him and some of the girls burst out crying.

Malfoy ran over and pulled Ron and Harry off of Zabini by their cuffs and held on tightly while they continued thrashing around. Zabini moaned and rolled over coughing up some blood onto the floor. It was hard to read the teacher's expressions, but the Slytherins looked downright disgusted with their housemate.

"Hermione, love," Blaise whimpered from the floor. "Help me; I'm sorry, I am."

Hermione bent down and helped pull Zabini to his feet. Ron and Harry shrugged Malfoy off of them but held their anger back and just watched. When Blaise had regained his balance, Hermione, much to everyone's astonishment, punched him in his already bloody nose and watched him double to the ground again.

"Mr. Zabini, I request your presence in my office as soon as your Head of House speaks with you," Dumbledore replied looking at Snape. "Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to go with Madam Pomfrey. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, I'd like to speak to you first."

"Snape never looked at me the same," he growled as if reading her mind. "Dumbledore told me how 'disappointed' he was and expelled me for the rest of the year. I learned my lesson and I'm sorry, Hermione, I am."

"I couldn't get over it like that. I couldn't just move on like everyone else. Except it, see proper punishment, and go on with life. I wish I could, but a three-year-old girl upstairs, that looks nearly everything like her father, tells me I can't." Hermione slouched against the door and slid down it sitting on the floor. She listened to Blaise's heavy breathing on the other side remembering the past three years. He actually had the nerve to show his face again. All week he'd been trying to see his daughter, but Hermione refused it. "You can't take back what you did. So just go back to whatever life you have and let me be, Zabini."

"How come you didn't tell Potter and Weasel I was back in town. I'm sure I'd be six feet under already if they had known," he said calmly.

"I don't find their concern. Harry and Ron have been trying to get me to live again and move on, and I'm trying. I won't tell them you're in town just to let all their work go to waste." Hermione sighed again and stood. She couldn't have Blaise here, she couldn't risk it. It was hard enough to hear his husky voice that had whispered her name heatedly that night. But to see the face that had haunted her dreams had put her back into the past. "Go away, Zabini, and don't come back."

Instead of an outraged protest the twenty-one year old woman heard a defeated sigh and retreating footsteps. Hermione held back tears and made her way down the dark hallway to a fitful night sleep.

"A friend of mine told me they saw Blaise Zabini on your doorstep last night. Is that true, Hermione?" Draco Malfoy asked perching himself on the woman's over-stuffed desk.

"You need to tell your friend to mind their own business," she huffed grouchily.

"If he's back you should have told us."

"He's gone now," she sighed leaning back in her chair and rubbing the creases in her forehead. "Besides, I can handle myself, Malfoy. I thanked you for what you did all those years ago. And I forgave you for something that didn't need forgiven. Stop with the guilt, stop feeling indebted to me."

"It's not that I feel I owe you," he sighed crouching next to her chair and taking her young frail hand in his. "I don't want anything to happen to you again."

"I have Ron and Harry for that job. Besides, since when did Slytherins learn how to care?" she said.

"Things change, people change, Granger. We're not in Hogwarts anymore. Potter's my Auror partner and he and the Weasel have both been more civilized towards me since that day."

"I know, and I'm happy for that, I am. It's about time you lot grew up. But you have to understand that I have to handle this myself. And I handled it. He's gone; Persephone doesn't even know her father exists." Hermione laughed remembering something her daughter had told her the other day. "Besides she wouldn't have even listened anyway. Yesterday she told me she wanted you as a father. Now, for some crazy reason, she believes you are."

"Is that such a horrible thing?" he asked. "I care about her a lot."

"I know you do. And I owe a lot to you with helping her and I find our feet. I don't know what we might have done without that money you loaned us."

"Hermione, Persephone isn't the only one I care about. I care a lot about you too. Too much," he sighed grasping her hand in his.

"I know, Malfoy," she said. At his hardened look she changed her mind. "Draco, I know you care about us, you're not the same stuck-up little boy I knew."

"No, I'm not. That boy didn't have emotions, feelings. And lately, more then ever, I know that I could never go back to the way I was."

"That's good," she said pulling her hand out of his and trying to return to her work.

"Hermione, listen to me, please," he said very out-of-character.

"What?"

"The reason I can't go back to who I was is because of all these new feelings that have overcome me. One's I can't control, and I'm not sure I want to anymore."

"What feelings?" she asked looking back to him. "A lot of people still hate you, you're life has changed, but not dramatically."

"The feelings I have for you, Hermione Ann Granger. Why do you think I never forgave myself all those years ago? Why do you think all I wanted to do was help you? I tried to push them aside, but I couldn't. And that day when I learned what Zabini did to you...I knew I wouldn't ever get rid of them."

"Listen, Draco, I've really got work to get back to," she replied not quite making sense of his words. She turned her eyes back to the papers in front of her and tried to soothe her over-worked brain. It was a few minutes before a slender hand reached out and turned her around and pressed his lips to hers for the first time.

It wasn't like Zabini's, Hermione assessed. It wasn't needy, intentional, demanding. It wasn't like anything she had ever experienced. Even the joy of seeing her daughter for the first time hardly matched this. But why was Draco Malfoy kissing her, Hermione Granger? Why would he want to; why would either of them want this? But it was then Hermione realized that she was kissing him back.

Hermione pulled back suddenly and, hopping off the chair, put as much distance between them as possible. "I can't," she gasped breathing heavily, brain racking with memories.

"I understand, I'm Malfoy, Slytherin...." He was slightly taken aback because he was very aware she had kissed him back, if only for a moment.

"No, I just can't. Not with you, not with anyone. I can't move on. It's too hard...I can't." Hermione wiped the tears away from her eyes and tried to hide her face from him. "Go, please, just go," she begged not raising her voice.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he whispered coming up behind her.

"No!" she shouted. "Just go, no apologies just leave!"

"My Auror office is only at the end of the hall, you can't get rid of me and expect to never bump into me," he pointed out close enough to touch her but not daring.

"It's not that I don't want you around, or want you as a friend. But it can't be more; it can never be more with anybody. That benefit was taken from my life three years ago, and it's something I can't get back," she said willing herself to look at him. Tears rolled down her cheeks against her will and he reached up to brush them away. "No," she said grabbing his hand in mid-air. "Don't make this harder on yourself, just go."

"Hermione, you don't want this. If you wanted it you wouldn't be crying."

"I don't want it, I think. I just can't. I can't; I'm not strong enough. Besides, who gets what they want anymore?"

"People who accept and move on," he said desperately clinging to her hand still holding his.

"It's not that easy. I've tried, and I can't. You move on; move on past me, Draco."

"Life moves on, Hermione, with or without you, are you going to watch it go by or go for the ride?" he asked tearing his hand from hers.

"I've been perfectly fine being a spectator so far," she spat at him. "Go, please, don't make me call Harry in here."

"You can't change what happened, but you can change whether or not you let it ruin your life," Malfoy said heading for the door. "I thought you were smart, Hermione. But then again, you can't be Hermione. She wouldn't have done something as stupid as to let this take control of her and her life."

"You said so yourself," she reasoned before he made it out the door. "I'm not the Hermione you knew."

"No, you're the Hermione you let him change you into. You may have saved Persephone from knowing the truth, but you can't save yourself. You may have gotten custody and chased him out of town, but he still won. Can't you see it; he's still imprinted in every bit of you, from your hazel eyes to your daughter's midnight black hair. He's still got you Hermione Granger, that's why I can't have you."