Summary: Draco and Hermione make one drunken mistake, and deal with the consequences
Warnings: het, drunk sex, offensive racial term used
Notes: This fic is set in the Lucius Malfoy and the Cauldron of Doom universe, but you don't need to have read it. And my feelings on the Epilogue are “what, huh, Draco's not going bald, EVER!”, so think sorta compliant, but not really.
Draco would never be able to adequately explain, even to himself, what had possessed him to do such a stupid thing. He blamed it on the mass amounts of alcohol he'd consumed that night, most times. After all, it had been Goyle's birthday party, and the man could drink like a fish. He had woken up, only vaguely hung over, in a strange bed with someone next to him. He turned over to look, and realized with horror, what he'd done. He'd slept with Granger. GRANGER! Pans would kill him if she found out. He tried to quietly slip out of bed, but stepped on a bottle and fell right back in.
"Oh my god!"
"Look, Granger, do you want to explain to the Weasel and the Prat who Lived that we shagged? Cause I sure don't want to explain to my fiancée. So what say I find my clothes, we agree this never happened, and I get the hell out of here?"
"Wait, did you use protection?"
Draco looked puzzled.
"Protection? You mean like a contraceptive potion? That's your department, not mine."
"No, like a condom."
"Granger, I have no idea what a condom is."
Draco put his head in his hands.
"Granger, please tell me you're on a patch or potion or pill or something."
"Ron and I use condoms. He wears one. It's like a sheath over the penis."
"Bloody hell, you're nuts. Both of you. A sheath? That's just weird."
"Potions don't protect against STDs, Draco."
"STDs? You mean those disgusting things Muggles get. Look, this is crazy. You're just not going to get pregnant."
"And if I do, I'll get rid of it."
"Like hell you will. You're not killing my child, even if it is half you!"
"It's my body!"
"And have you checked the latest laws? Pans was complaining about them, something about Women's Lib. It's illegal to abort a magical child. You'd end up in Azkaban if you tried it. So if you end up pregnant, and believe me, I will be praying to any and every god that will listen that you don't, you carry the child to term. Then if you don't want it, fine. I'll happily take it."
"And how's Pansy going to feel about raising your bastard?"
"She'll probably kill me. But I wasn't planning on asking her to. Mother always did want another child, and she'll adore a grandchild. Now, I am going to get my pants and go."
"I need some way to reach you. In case."
He yanked on his pants, and then found a piece of paper and a pen.
"My private floo address. You can send a letter through if I'm not there. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other places to be."
He stalked out of what he suspected was Granger's apartment, and hoped reverently that he wouldn't hear from her, that his stupid drunken mistake would not sprout into a disaster.
Hermione was not a happy woman. Her life had been going along swimmingly, and then four months ago, one little mistake. And thanks to the new laws, she had no choice about what to do. She was going to have a baby, whether she wanted to or not. Ron had not taken the news particularly well. She didn't really blame him. After all, finding out that your girlfriend was pregnant, and that it could be another man's, well, understandable that he was acting the way he was. Harry's reaction had been more hurtful. She had hoped that her best friend would at least be here for her. But he stuck by Ron, and so she was here at St. Mungo's for her first appointment with her mother.
"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"
"That's likely my child, remember? I want to make sure she's healthy."
"I'd like a girl. Mother wants a girl too, and father doesn't really care."
"Hermione, who's this?"
"Mother, this is Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is my mother, Laura Granger."
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
"So you're the one who..."
"Yes. And let me assure you that I intend to take care of this child, once the healer does a blood charm, that is."
"A blood charm?"
"A simple verification of fatherhood. Won't hurt it at all."
"And will it hurt me?"
"Haven't the slightest. Didn't bother to ask. I doubt Mother would have been willing to undergo it if it was painful, or that father would have subjected her to it."
"Your parents did this? But they're married."
"And were married before I was conceived. It's standard operating procedure among the pureblood families, a way of making sure that no bastards sneak in. If muggles had a way of verifying who the father was, don't you think they'd do the same?"
"We do, and they don't, young man."
Draco shrugged. It was his standard response to the bizarre illogic that often passed for thought among muggles.
"Well, we do. I'm sure the healer can tell you if it's painful or not, and give you something if it is. It's not an unreasonable request. You were sleeping with the Weasel as well, and those condom things do fail on occasion."
The arrival of the healer prevented Hermione from attempting to strangle Draco. She was a older witch, quite motherly looking. She took Hermione's hand and patted it.
"Hello dear. First time? Nothing to worry about. And this must be the father?"
"Possibly. I'd like that confirmed."
The healer took a closer look at Draco.
"Doubting your girl?"
"She's not my girl, and has never been my girl. This was a one-night drunken mistake. And before my fiancée kills me for cheating on her, I'd like confirmation that Granger is indeed carrying a Malfoy heir."
"What the hell makes you think this child's going to be a Malfoy?"
"And the Grangers are rolling in galleons? Or have a manor? If you want this child to have any part of that, Malfoy needs to be the last name."
"You'd honestly not support this child if I don't give it your last name?"
"No, this child would be unable to inherit any part of the Malfoy estate without the Malfoy name. And I'm not sure what would happen once he or she turned 17. I get a stipend because I'm a Malfoy, based, well, it'd take me a while to explain it, but suffice it to say, it's a bit like a perpetual trust. Look, the money would allow him or her to do whatever they want, research, work, further education. I don't want a child of mine ending up like Uncle Sev, bitter and resentful with his students because he never had enough time to do the research he wanted."
Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment.
"What about a hyphenated last name?"
"Like Granger-Malfoy. Would that still work?"
"Probably, but I'd have to check. Can we do the blood charm now?"
The healer looked at Hermione, and then led them all into a small room with a day bed in the center. She indicated that Hermione was to lay down on the bed.
"Don't worry dear, this won't hurt either you or the baby. It's quite pretty. He just puts his hand on your bare stomach, I do the spell, and if he's the father his hand will glow. Simple as that. Now if you'll uncover your stomach?"
Draco moved over to stand besides her, and held out his hand. She uncovered her stomach, and he placed his hand on it. His hand was cold and sweaty. The healer muttered a few words and waved her wand. Everyone in the room looked at the hand, and it started to glow blue.
"I guess I'd better get used to thinking of you as Hermione. And now, I need to go tell my fiancée that another woman is having my child. If you find my corpse, Pansy did it."
"What are we going to do?"
He looked at her, and it gave her a brief moment of satisfaction to realize that her life wasn't the only one going completely off track.
"I haven't the slightest idea. Get married, I guess. I'm supposed to make an honest woman out of you, I know that. It's the honorable thing to do."
"Draco, I'm not marrying you."
"Oh thank Merlin. Well, I offered to make a honest woman out of you. Not my fault you don't want to be one. Must dash, can't be late."
"Can't be late to what?"
"Lunch with Pans. If I'm going to tell her about this, I figured it was best to do so after she'd had a good lunch and a slice of her favorite chocolate cake. Even if she doesn't take it better, she'll be relaxed and her reflexes will be off."
Draco dashed out of the room. Hermione looked at her mother.
"Hermione, that boy is odd."
"Yes, he is. And wait till you meet his parents. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when Lucius Malfoy hears that his first grandchild's going to be a bastard child of a mudblood, that his pureblood line has been sullied."
"That's an awful thing to say, but what does mudblood mean?"
"He's called me that, so has Draco. Mudblood is a nasty term for a muggleborn like me."
"Oh. He's very old-fashioned too."
"The Wizarding World is, in some respects, and Draco Malfoy comes from, well, it's the closest thing to an aristocracy, I suppose."
"The Malfoys are aristocrats, dear. Used to be lords, until all titles were abolished back in 1900. Most of the old families had titles, but the Malfoys have always, well, had the power and galleons to back theirs up. Now, we'll be done in just a few minutes, and, oh, do you want to know if it's a boy or girl?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright. Just lie back and relax, dear."
Hermione stared up at the ceiling. Her life had gone from normal to absurd, and it was all Draco Malfoy's fault.
Five months later
St. Mungo's was decorated for Christmas, and he was about to get an early present. Mother was thrilled. He was, well, he wasn't sure. He felt a hand on his head, and looked over. It was father.
"Easy, Draco. The waiting's the worst. So what's the name going to be?"
"We haven't decided."
'We can't decide on anything, we can barely be civil. How the hell are we supposed to raise a child together when we can't be in a room more than two minutes without screaming? Apparently I am the worst human being ever created. Spoiled and selfish I'll give you, but I think the Dark Lord has a lock on worst ever. What the hell am I going to do?'
He didn't say any of that, but apparently it was writ large on his face. In one of his rare displays of public affection, his father hugged him tightly.
"It will all work out, Draco. She will not cut you out of this child's life. She can't. And the fact that you're worrying about being a good father, about your daughter, well that speaks volumes about the kind of father you're going to be. Just avoid Dark Lords, don't drop the baby, and love her. Everything else will work itself out."
"I'll tell you a secret, if you promise not to tell anyone. I was shaking, I was so bloody terrified when you were born. And they gave you to me to hold and you were this perfect little being and I was so terrified that I was going to screw up horribly. And one of the healers leaned over, and whispered 'Don't drop him. Love him, make sure he knows it, and everything else will work itself out.' That's what I did. And except for that one time when I did drop you, everything did work itself out, more or less."
"Wait, when did you drop me?"
"When you were four, into the pond. Remember? I took you on a broom ride, and you fell into the pond and broke your arm."
"Father, I jumped. I wanted to go swimming."
"Yes. I wanted to go swimming, and I didn't realize how high we were. And then you got me out of the pond and after St Mungo's we went to get ice cream and I promised not to tell mother if you'd take me on more rides."
"I'm surprised you remember all that."
"Oh, there's Hermione's parents. I should go say hello. Are you coming?"
"I suppose I should meet them. What do they do?"
"Muggle teeth healers."
"Oh. I'll find your mother, and you can introduce us both. Suit?"
"Yes. Just be polite."
"Draco, I've been politicking for longer than you've been alive. Polite I can do."
"Even in pain and tired?"
"Even in pain and tired. It's important to you, so I'll manage."
Draco walked over.
"Hello, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger. How are you?"
"Hello, Draco. Bit nervous. And you?"
"Same. Be glad when this is over."
"Who was that with you?"
"My father. He went to go find my mother. He knows she'd like to meet both of you."
"And he doesn't?"
"No, Mr. Granger. He'd..." Draco trailed off, unsure how to explain. "He's a professor, term just ended, and he'd rather have mother here since he hasn't seen her yet. He came straight here from Hogwarts."
"Hermione didn't say he was a professor."
"He hasn't been teaching that long. This is his third year."
"What did he do before he taught?"
"He was a politician and managed our estate."
"So one of the idle rich, then."
"Not really idle. Managing the estate is a full time job, and then some."
"Oh, I'm sure watching the gardener is exhausting."
Draco bit his tongue to keep from being very rude.
"Actually my day starts at around six am. The estate is a multi million galleon business. I have no idea what the gardener is up to, and as long as the garden looks decent, I don't care much."
Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more. Draco looked around, wondering if his father was taking his time on purpose. It was likely.
“Draco, there you are.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Granger, this is my mother, Narcissa Malfoy. Mother, this is Harold and Laura Granger.
“Charmed. Is this your first grandchild too?”
“Yes. I gather there's been some trouble deciding on a name.”
'Oh god, not that snake pit.'
“Well, I can understand why that might be. I'm sure many of our names are quite strange-sounding to you. Draco, where's your father?”
“He went looking for you. And I still like Cassiopeia or Medea.”
“Hermione said you wanted to name the baby Nath something or other.”
“Nathyrra was one of my suggestions. It's a family name. But I prefer the other two names better.”
“Well, with Cassiopeia, you could call her Cassie. That will work quite well, really."
Draco thanked Merlin that his mother had shown up when she did. He could always count on her to smooth ruffled feathers. Though why the feathers had gotten ruffled in the first place was a bit beyond him. Honestly, he worked hard managing the estate. Just because he wasn't a dentist, that didn't mean what he did wasn't a real job. Muggles and their stupid preconceptions. And the name thing. Gods, the name thing. It wasn't his fault that the Malfoy estate was based on the Malfoy name and thus the baby needed to have the last name of Malfoy. And he'd been quite reasonable. Alright, so 'Hell no!' was not perhaps the most reasonable response to most of Hermione's suggestions, but really, naming a girl Arithmancia? Dear Merlin, that was a horrible name. At least his suggestions had some basis in something besides his favourite subject in school. Family names, sticking with the mythological theme, names like that. He'd even gotten desperate enough to suggest Laura. You'd think Hermione would be happy to name her daughter after her mother, but no. She had to have a unique name, but one that was muggle-friendly. What the heck was a muggle-friendly name anyway? Hermione certainly wasn't willing to define it. He'd come to the conclusion that muggle-friendly meant 'names I, Hermione, like, and ones that were not suggested by Draco because Draco has no idea about names and should certainly not be allowed to name this child.' It was infuriating.
He realized that his mother was saying something to him, and he'd completely missed it.
"Sorry, lost in my thoughts there for a bit. What did you say?"
"I said we all seem to like Cassiopeia as a first name. Now all we need to do is convince Ms. Granger and decide on a middle name."
"I thought either Narcissa or Laura. Nice tradition, naming the daughter after one of the grandmothers. I told Hermione that, but she didn't seem to like the idea. Something about having a unique muggle-friendly name. Personally, I think Granger-Malfoy is a very unique name in and of itself."
"So either Cassiopeia Laura Granger-Malfoy or Cassiopeia Narcissa Granger-Malfoy?"
"Laura. Less wordy."
"Yes, that works quite well. And since her first name is following my family tradition, Laura should be the middle name."
"Now we just need to convince Hermione."
"Draco, why don't you let me do that? You're not exactly my daughter's favourite person."
"The feeling's mutual, but I am trying to put that aside. There's a little girl involved now, and that should be more important than our mutual loathing for one another."
Laura smiled at him, and Draco decided that at least one of the Grangers wasn't so bad after all.
"That's a very mature outlook, young man. Now, is that your father?"
Draco turned around to see Lucius rounding the corner. He was carrying a tea service. Where he had found a proper tea service at St. Mungo's was quite beyond Draco, but if anyone could do it, his father could.
"I brought tea."
The Grangers were staring at him, open mouthed. Lucius set the tea service down on a table, and started pouring tea.
"Did you manage lemon as well?"
"Of course. Wouldn't be a proper tea service without lemon, now would it?"
"Then lemon, please, father."
"Mrs. Granger, how do you take your tea?"
The question shocked both the Grangers back into functional status.
"Um, two sugars and a dash of cream, please. And Harold would like one sugar and no cream."
Lucius poured tea and handed the cups out.
"Nothing like tea to calm the nerves."
"Lucius, where did you find a full tea set?"
"I asked. Tea in mugs simply isn't civilized."
Draco started laughing at that. The serious look on his father's face, the Grangers' bemused expressions, it was all too much. He laughed and laughed and laughed until his father hit him on the back.
"I wasn't hysterical."
"Yes, you were."
"It was funny."
"Not that funny."
Draco rolled his eyes theatrically.
"One day your eyes are going to get stuck like that, you know."
"And that will be completely your fault for making me roll them so much."
"Laura, Harold, this is my husband, Lucius. Lucius, this is Laura and Harold Granger."
"Ah. The one who thinks my daughter is a mudblood."
Draco winced. This was the last thing they needed to discuss.
"Actually, muggleborn would be the correct term. Mudblood would be an insult. I think the closest equivalent would be black and nigger. That has been explained to me, in some detail, and I no longer use the term."
"But you did, and you did call my daughter that."
"And I apologized to her. I have no intention of sharing my political views with Draco's children without his permission. Sooner or later I expect the question will come up, and I will leave it to your daughter and Draco to decide how they want to handle things."
"Why would the question come up?"
"Do you know what a Death Eater is?"
"Sounds like a band."
"It was a political movement, of sorts. I'm sure your daughter would be more than happy to explain it further. Suffice it to say that what seemed like a good idea in my youth turned out to be a monumentally bad idea later on. I endangered my family through my folly, and believe me, I learned some very painful lessons."
"And that justifies things?"
"Not in the slightest. I offer an explanation, not a justification. Now I may be mistaken, but I thought we were here to celebrate the birth of our first grandchild. Why don't we focus on that, and you can grill me about my past later?"
"Yes, Harold, let's focus on Hermione and the baby. Do we really need to be discussing politics right now?"
"I just want to make one thing clear. If my grandchild starts spouting any of this racist claptrap, I am laying the blame squarely on him, and I will not be happy."
"I assure you, Mr. Granger, that I have no intention of sharing 'this racist claptrap' as you put it. Not because you will be unhappy, but because it might make her feel inferior, and I have no intention of allowing my granddaughter to feel inferior to anyone. In fact, if she manages to inherit her father's looks and her mother's brains, she'll be far superior to most."
Thankfully, at that point the midwife emerged.
"It's a healthy baby girl, and the mother's doing fine. Now would you like to come in and see?"
Draco walked into the birthing room, the parents trailing behind him. Harold and Lucius were still glaring at each other. Hermione was lying down on a bed, cradling a small bundle. He walked over to her and looked down.
It would amaze him, looking back on it later, that someone so tiny could so completely move his world. This tiny little baby, this was his daughter. The new center of his universe.
"She's beautiful. Except for the bright red. That goes away, right?"
"Yes, dear, that will fade."
"Hermione, we all thought Cassiopeia Laura Granger-Malfoy was a good name. Is that alright with you? We could call her Cassie if you like."
Hermione was exhausted. She was in no mood to continue the name argument.
"Fine. Cassiopeia Laura it is. Just don't think because you're getting your way on this, that I'm going to give in completely."
"Wouldn't even dream of it, Hermione. Compromise, that's my middle name."
"I thought Ferret was your middle name."
"Hermione, if you ever tell Cassie about the ferret incident, I will tell her all about the troll and the numerous times her mother managed to get into loads of trouble. And your nickname. I'll even tell her that."
"That's a low blow."
"So was the ferret."
Draco and Hermione stared daggers at each other.
Narcissa turned to Laura.
"I think you and I need to get along, if nothing else, to act as the peacemakers. Otherwise Cassie's going to have a very tumultuous childhood."
"I think you're right. Allies for Cassie's sake?"
Laura and Narcissa shook hands.
"Do you want to hold your daughter?" the midwife asked, taking Cassie from Hermione's arms and holding her out to Draco.
"Yes, very much."
He took his baby daughter in his arms, and was terrified.
"Draco, remember. Don't drop her, and love her. Everything else will work out if you do that."
"That's your fatherly advise, don't drop the baby? That's just sad."
As Lucius and Harold started an argument with Hermione chiming in, and Laura and Narcissa tried to defuse things, Draco looked down at Cassie. She yawned and fell asleep, oblivious to her relatives arguing around her.
"Well, that's going to be a useful character trait, little one. I think there's going to be lots of arguing in your future. Best to not let it affect you. I just hope father's right, that everything will work out in the end."