The moment Draco's shoes touched the dark marble floor he put his emotional mask in place. It was something that came second nature to him now, but there was still a part of him that was incredibly apprehensive. He just hoped no one could sense any nervous energy coming off of him. It would prove to be disastrous.
His mother was equally as nervous but he knew the focus would be on him and his daughter. No one would notice the quiver of her lips or the darting of her eyes as she looked around. He was honestly a bit surprised to see her this distraught. She hadn't been like this since the months leading up to him receiving his mark.
"Malfoy,' he heard the voice of McNair call out to him. "I had heard you had something interesting to tell us." The wizard's eyes moved from him to Rhea, "but I must say I wasn't expecting this. Tell me, who is this...lovely child."
"You'll find out at the meeting," he replied curtly.
"A bit defensive aren't you?"
Draco glared at him. "Would you like to test me and find out how defensive I can really be?"
Draco stared at his mother as she brought in yet another package wrapped in pink and purple paper. “Mother, don’t you think you’re going a bit….overboard?”
She looked completely appalled by the question. “Draco, I’ve missed out on four years of gifts. Just let me have this one thing.”
Yes, sure, of course. This one thing.
For the last three days, Rhea had been showered with everything from frilly dresses to pretty dolls. There may have been a story book in there somewhere too, but he’d lost count of everything after the first day she’d come back from the shops.
“I’m not trying to impede on your grandmotherly duties, but you may be overwhelming her.”
She paused her stride. “Has she said something?”
“No, of course not.” He told her. “She’s rather polite for a four-year-old, but I can tell she doesn’t know what to do. She’s never had such expensive and over frivolous things given to her.”
“I just want to make up for lost time.”
“I understand your intentions, but if you could maybe refrain from buying anything else, for the time being, that would be helpful.”
She sighed as if he was asking her to refrain from drinking tea. “If that’s your wish then I’ll try to do as you ask-”
“Thank you.”
“-but I’m still giving her this,” she said and strolled right past him and into what used to be her personal sitting room but what now served as Rhea’s play room. He followed her in and watched as his daughter, who had been lying on the floor drawing when he’d left her, sit up and smile at her grandmère. “Darling, I have something for you.”
“Another present?”
“Yes. I know it may seem excessive...but grandmère just wants you to have nice things.” She crouched down to help her open the box and Draco could see the look of pure enjoyment when she saw Rhea’s smile widen.
“Oh, she looks like me!” She replied in awe, carefully taking the doll out of it’s package.”
“I know. I saw her and I just knew I’d have to get her. Every little girl should have such a doll.”
Rhea turned and threw her arms around his mother. “Thank you!”
After balancing the little girl on her lap, she twisted her head to look back at him, a smirk of I told you so planted on her face. “You’re very welcome.”
His little girl hugged her doll close and sat back down where’d she’d been moments before.
Standing, his mother turned her attention back to him. “Do you know where your father has gone?”
“He shut himself up in his study an hour ago.” The coward. He just didn’t know what to do with his feelings regarding his granddaughter. Merlin forbid he actually care for her.
“Grandpère gets a headache when I ask too many questions,” Rhea piped up from her spot on the floor.
“Oh, does he now?” She asked, clearly amused.
“That’s what he told daddy. I tried to be quiet but daddy told me it was ok. Grandpère is just getting old. Does that mean you’re getting old too?”
“No, child.” she laughed, “I’m not that old yet and we witches live long lives, so given the context, I’d say I was still quite young indeed.”
“Rhea, it’s not really polite to comment on people’s ages,” Draco told her.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
She just waved it off and sat down in the nearest chair, content to watch Rhea playing with her gift.
Draco felt a slight pull in the wards and he turned in alarm. “Are we expecting company, mother?” he asked her as the floo roared to life in the front room. He was usually aware of any and all visitors to the Manor and he didn’t like being caught off guard, especially when his daughter was sitting just a foot away playing make believe with her doll.
“No, I don’t know who it could be.”
He motioned for her to remain where she was and headed into the hall, intent on greeting whoever was coming through.
“You don’t have to be so suspicious, son. I owled Severus this morning.” His father called, waltzing past him as the wizard in questioned stepped through the fireplace. “If I am to be subjected to the unfamiliar territory that is four-year-old little girls and your mother's coddling, I’m not doing it alone.”
Having heard the exchange, Severus deadpanned. “I was told this was an urgent matter, Lucius.”
“It is,” his father insisted, “there are many matters that need to be discussed. One of which is my son’s lack of forethought.”
Severus regarded him suspiciously but Draco just shrugged. There was really nothing to say. He’d learn the truth soon enough.
“Well, then... by all means, tell me.”
“It would be better if I showed you.”
Silently he followed them back to the sitting room where Draco had left her, but when he spotted the child he halted, a small noise that could be easily dismissed leaving his mouth.
Lucius, unaware of his friend's sudden stiffness, sighed,“It was brought to our attention quite recently that there is a new addition to the Malfoy family. This is Rhea.”
If Severus’s face had held any tint of color it would have easily drained away. Draco briefly wondered if his godfather had actually seen her before. The way he was staring at her certainly indicated that he had.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Severus?” His mother asked in too cheery of a voice. She seemed to be putting on a show. “I never thought I’d be a grandmother so soon, but she’s honestly a delight.”
The older wizard nodded slightly, still looking a bit shaken at the sight of Rhea playing at her feet.
“Rhea,” his mother addressed her, “this is Severus Snape, he is a friend of ours.”
She politely looked up from her toys and smiled, though it seemed a bit off to him. Over the last few days, he’d become quite acclimated with her facial expressions, tics, and nuances. “Hello, Mr. Severus.”
“See, isn’t she darling?” Narcissa crooned. “While I'm saddened for her loss I’m happy that her mother seemed to instill manners in her.”
The dark haired man snapped his head up at her words. “Her....mother?”
“Yes. Eileen Dubois. It was dreadful really,” She began reciting the cover story she had come up with. “To be taken by a fever. So young and so much life ahead of her. It was truly tragic. I’m just grateful her living relative knew to contact Draco after her passing. Who knows what would have happened to the poor girl. The Dubois, while still a pureblood line, has nearly died out, you know.”
He didn’t look like he believed her but replied slowly, “Then she is certainly lucky to have been reunited with her father.”
“As you can see, it has changed the family dynamic somewhat,” Lucius said with a roll of his eyes.
Instead of replying he turned his attention to Draco. “Draco, I’d like a word if you have a moment?”
The look on his godfather's face confirmed that his earlier fears just might be true. He followed him down the hall and into the library where he promptly leveled Draco with perhaps the sternest look he could muster.
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” he asked, just a hint of emotion bleeding through his stoicism, “If your father finds out that one of the golden trio's brats is living under his roof-”
“Excuse me?” a surprising anger rose up from his stomach. “Did you just call my child a brat?”
“Draco. Now is not the time to go against me.That,” he said, pointing at the door, “is Hermione Granger's daughter. What on earth are you thinking?”
“Oh, I don't know, that I'm her best option at the moment.”
“If the Dark Lord finds out-”
“I’m handling it.” He said, cutting him off.
“Draco, he will kill you or worse. She’s four. Do you think she’ll be prepared to keep silent if-”
Frustrated, he snapped, “I said I’m handling it!”
“Clearly.”
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. That this was a bad idea? Fine. Maybe it was. But I’m not going to take her back? Didn’t you see my mother. She’s absolutely besotted. Not to mention the fact that she has no idea who Rhea’s mother is.”
“Oh, yes. Eileen Dubois? That's what you're going with?”
“That was actually mother’s idea,” he grumbled. “She thinks I slept with a prostitute.”
“You're going to put all of us in our graves.”
“What was I supposed to do?” he asked, ”leave her? Let her starve or get snatched off the street? I'm afraid even my Death Eater facade wouldn't allow that.” Severus breathed deeply through his nose. “She's my daughter.”
“Yes, I'm well aware. You don't have to repeat yourself. I've known about her far longer than you, I'm sure.”
A stab of betrayal went through his chest. “You...you didn’t just know about her, did you? You knew she was mine.”
“Of course I knew. I'm an informant, remember? The moment I laid my eyes on the girl years ago I knew she was a Malfoy. And since I highly doubted Granger took a tumble with your father I assumed you were the one responsible.”
“Why didn't you say something,” he hissed, anger quickly taking over, “All this time…”
“Because it is dangerous information, Draco. I knew that you'd go in half cocked and get yourself killed, or worse, get her killed.”
He paused, letting that sink in. “I...don’t think you give me enough credit, but I can see why you’d think that.”
“Yes, so forgive me for being concerned for both of your well beings.”
“I know you have my best interests in mind, but I’m still getting used to being a father. I’m rather defensive at the moment.”
“Understandable. It must have been quite the shock.”
“Flipped my world arse up, more like,” he sighed.
His godfather looked like he was done with the conversation so he cleared his throat before he would hastily retreat out into the hall.
“Severus, while you’re here, there is something that you can do for me.”
He raised a brow in what Draco took as encouragement.
“Would you request an audience with the Dark Lord?”
“Draco,” he warned. “Have you not learned patience?”
“He is going to find out eventually. I’d rather he find out from me than one of his minions. He may be suspicious of her and if he thinks I’m hiding something from him, he’ll question everything I do. I can’t risk it. I need to move freely and I need him to believe her mother is dead.”
“But are you prepared to do anything to keep up this charade? You will need to do something about her mind, Draco. You can’t keep him out without him knowing it.”
The uncomfortable truth had his heart thrumming. He’d thought about this very thing every night since she’d come to him. He had very few options, but he’d need to decide soon. “I know. I will do whatever I have to to keep her safe. I made a promise…”
Silence reigned a moment before the dark haired wizard spoke. “Fine. I’ll put in the request when I return tonight.”
An almost spontaneous feeling of relief and anxiety overtook him. “Thank you.”
“Now...we’ve been gone long enough for me to give you a thorough lecture. I’m sure your father is having a bit of a rough time. He seems like he’s trying hard to dislike the girl.”
“He’ll have a hell of a time with it. She’s hard to dislike.”
He nodded. “So it seems….though it may prove to be an asset in the future.”
“How so?”
“Wouldn’t it be for the best if the other purebloods adored her as well? Who would question the legitimacy of such a polite and wonderful child?”
He rolled his eyes and huffed, “I’ll make sure to have her work on her curtsy.”
An almost smile quirked on Severus’s lips. “See that you do.”
Friday, March 24, 2004
Draco was exhausted.
How did Granger even keep up with their daughter? Surely she had some kind of secret? Not only was Rhea curious, asking him and his parents what purpose nearly every piece of furniture in the house had, but she was also a ball of energy. She spent a lot of her time running around the estate, her doting grandmother and tired father following behind her.
Before Rhea, he’d thought being a Death Eater was taxing, but chasing down a four-year-old while she ran naked down the hall covered in bubbles was something he’d just never get used to. He couldn’t imagine his comrades chasing around their offspring. Most of them would probably have a House Elf do it, but he wasn’t built that way. Despite his parent's flaws, they had always loved and cared about him growing up. His father and he had the differences, but he was hoping that the rift between them could be mended.
Rhea showing up in their lives was actually helping more than hindering that rift.
His father tried so hard to pretend he wasn’t interested in the little girl, but Draco didn’t miss the way his gaze would linger or the muttered words of “just like her father” as she did something rambunctious. He wasn’t nearly as attentive to her whims as his mother though. He wondered if his mother had secretly wanted a girl. She sure enjoyed doting on her grandchild.
At least she’d taken a break from the gifts since their discussion. He should be grateful.
It was hard to be grateful for anything, though, when you were running on three hours of sleep and Pepper Up potion.
The last few days had been even more difficult considering his Lord was putting pressure on him to return to the city. He’d gotten away with a bit of “personal leave” but his time was quickly running out. Soon Voldemort would understand his reasons for skirting his duties, but right now he would probably be suspicious. He found himself both anxious and dreading the inevitable meeting.The sooner it happened, the sooner they could get through it, but he was also consumed with worry for Rhea.
She wasn’t used to the harsh treatment of someone poking around in her brain. Her age was a factor as well. She was polite but she was still very much a little child. Fear could keep her tight lipped, but even that was not preferable. There was only so much he could do to make sure she didn’t slip up in front of him, but he really didn’t want to think about that now.
Now he wanted to enjoy the afternoon trailing after his daughter as she wandered from room to room.
They’d finally stopped in the parlor where his mother’s ivory baby grand piano sat as a beautiful, yet rarely used focal point. She had been to the room before but Tilly hadn’t let her touch the instrument.
“Daddy? Can I play?” She asked him, hopefully.
He nodded in approval and watched her run her fingers along the keys of the piano, her face bright with excitement and recognition. She climbed up on the bench and pressed down on a few of them, filling the room with a clashing of notes. She laughed at the horrible sound but began playing an unorganized tune.
Just seeing her having fun, curls loose around her shoulders and tiny hands creating music, made his heart ache. She may be the spitting image of him, but she had her mother’s soul. She had Hermione’s goodness and her ability to face forward and see the light, even when she was in the midst of darkness.
<i>He’d just finished with a meeting between Potter and Lupin when he heard the sound of music playing from the other room. It was lovely, if not a little somber, and he found himself gravitating towards it. It had been so long since he’d heard anyone play, as his mother had stopped while the Dark Lord had taken up residence in the Manor. He wasn’t incredibly shocked to see Granger sitting at the old piano, but was surprised to see her hair tamer than usual. It laid in almost perfect curls and he wondered if she’d just gotten out of the bath.
He would have stayed there all day and listened to her playing, but he’d much rather speak with her than watch her from the corner of the room.
There was just something about Hermione Granger that pulled at him. Whenever he was in the same room as the witch he could feel a certain spark between them. They had shared many conversations and a few heated looks over the last few months and he always found himself seeking her out, even if she wasn’t present for meetings.
Like now.
“Rather depressing,” he said, coming to a halt beside her, “Isn’t it?”
Her fingers banged on the wrong notes as he spoke, obviously startled by his presence. “What?” She asked, turning her head to get a better look at him.
He pointed at the piano. “Beethoven, right?”
Shocked, she nodded. “Yes... Moonlight Sonata.”
“Mmmm. Thought so.” He leaned over and played a few notes. “Mother always said that it was a beautiful piece, but I’ve always found it quite melancholy.”
“You play the piano?” Her tone was questioning but her face betrayed her excitement.
“I used to when I was a child. Mother insisted that I learn, but she is far better at it than I am. I never had the patience.”
“Nooo. Impatient?” She raised a brow, “You?”
He sighed dramatically. “I know I tend to throw out this perfectly cool and calm persona, but I was actually an incredibly spoiled child.”
“So you got out of lessons with a pout?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Granger. Malfoy’s do not pout. What we do is propose other equally stimulating activities to our mothers until we get their approval.”
“And if that didn’t work? What was your backup plan? Did you wait them out with a hunger strike or a refusal to use table manners?”
“I’m afraid to ask where you came up with that,” he replied, trying to get over the absurdity of her words. “But if you must know. I didn’t have a backup plan. It always worked. My father agreed that teaching me how to fly was a much better use of my time than playing piano with my mother.”
“Wow...you really were spoiled.”
“Can’t really choose your parents though, can you, Granger?”
“I do suppose that’s true, Malfoy.”
The conversation lulled then, and as it always did, the spark between them made its presence known. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her lips as she spoke and he couldn’t help but notice the look in her eyes as she regarded him. If they hadn’t been in a house full of Order Members, he might have just taken a chance and kissed her right then and there.
She turned her attention to the piano again but didn’t play. “Shouldn’t you be getting back? Surely someone will have noticed your absence.”
“They may have, but there isn’t anything nearly as interesting as you back at the Manor.” It wasn’t his smoothest line, but he couldn’t just leave without at least putting a bit of effort in.
Her eyes lit up but her mouth frowned.“Was that really your attempt at flirting with me tonight?”
He smirked. “Did it work?”
She laughed and shook her head at him. “Not a chance.”
“Damn. I thought I had you for sure that time.”
“I’m afraid you’ll just have to try harder next time, Malfoy,” she told him, a mischievous smile spreading across her face, “and wait a little longer.”
“Clever witch,” he replied, flashing him a smile of his own.
She rose from the bench and yawned. “”Well, some of us aren’t nocturnal, so this is where I accuse myself.” She paused at the doorway. Goodnight, Malfoy.”
He gave her a small nod in return.“Goodnight, Granger.”<i>
The sound of footsteps echoing across the marble floor tore him out of his memory.
“Draco.” His father stood in the doorway. “It seems you’ve received an owl from Severus.”
That quickly sobered him and he nearly ran to his father to take the parchment from his hands. “Thank you.”
“Is this about your request to see the Dark Lord?”
Of course, he’d known his father was aware of his request but it was a bit jarring to hear the worried tone he’d used when he asked about it. Was he actually nervous and concerned for his granddaughter? Or was he just worried about the Malfoy’s reputation?
Either way, Draco was glad he wasn’t the only one on pins and needles waiting to hear back.
“Yes, I can assume that it is. Severus never was one to waste precious paper on frivolous endeavors.”
He was right. Severus had written to let him know that The Dark Lord was eager to see what important information Draco had for him. The meeting had been set for later that evening. He almost discarded the letter but saw a small ink smudge near the end of his signature.
He quickly folded it and placed it in his pocket.
His godfather never sent smudged letters. If an accident were to happen he would just begin again, so this was deliberate. It was their personal code to let the other know of a secret message on the parchment.
“What did he have to say?” His father asked him before he could rush back to his room to read the note in private.
“We are to meet with our Lord this evening at his estate.” He told him. “As a family.”
“I’ll inform your mother.”
He nodded and called for Rhea to follow him to his bedchamber. It would ease his mind to know she was near as he read whatever his godfather had hidden.
He pulled the letter out of his pocket as soon as he was safely behind his door and muttered, “Aparecium.”
He watched as the letters rearranged themselves, revealing the true message within.
<i>Draco,
I know you are probably relying on a false memory spell to keep your secret hidden from him. I would be inclined to agree with that choice, but to do so without the use of one to modify her behavior would be reckless. Charming, though she is, I would not put my trust in The Dark Lord’s reactions to her. One wrong move and we’ll all be in trouble. I have no doubt that if anyone were to lay a hand on her your life would automatically be forfeit. There is a way to circumnavigate this problem, though.
Might I suggest the Imperius?<i>
He couldn’t read past the sentence.
He was right about planting false memories inside her head for him to sift through, and he was also right about what he should do beyond that. Of course, Draco had thought about it as well, but he wanted it to be the last option. He really didn’t want to use such a thing on his own daughter.
“Fuck.”
He felt like he was going to be ill.
How was this any different than obliviating her? He was still taking away her choice, and maybe in an even worse way. She would be unable to go against him as long as the spell was enacted. She might not mind or realize that now, but later when she understood what he’d done to her...
She might hate him.
That was a risk he would be willing to take, though, if it saved her life in the end. What was important was getting through the meeting with the least amount of pain as possible. There was a chance that if he played this right, no one would have any reason to question him or his loyalty. If the Dark Lord believed that she was his pureblood, or even half blood, heir, no one would be able to go openly against him. At least when it came to Rhea. To question her legitimacy would be to question the Dark Lord himself. No one was that bloody stupid.
So, this was his best option. He crinkled the letter in his fist. This.
He was going to have to let Nott take him out for a drink after tonight.
He steeled himself as he got the little girl’s attention. This would not be a fun conversation for either of them. “Rhea, there’s something we need to talk about,” he told her in a quiet voice,”Something very important.”
“What’s wrong?” She asked, her tiny brows furrowing in concern. “Are you ok? Are you sick?”
“No, nothing like that,” he assured her.
“Then why do you look like that?”
Apparently, he was utter shite at hiding his emotions from his daughter. He crouched down in front of her so she was eye level with him.“Daddy is just worried. You see, Daddy has a boss...a very mean boss that is really scary. For you to be able to leave the manor you will have to meet this boss.”
“If he’s scary I don’t want to meet him.”
“That’s why I need you to listen to me. You have to meet him, Rhea. I’m sorry. There isn’t a way to avoid it. But Daddy knows it will be very scary and hard, especially when it comes to remembering what to say and what not to say about your mummy and uncles so I’m going to hel-”
“I won’t talk about them. I promise!” Her voice rose an octave and tears were shimmering in her eyes as she stared at him, her hands clutching at his shirt tightly. “I do good. I don’t say nothing about them to grandmère. I won’t say anything bad!”
He hugged her to his chest, unable to stand the sight of her crying. “I know, Darling. You’ve done such a good job. You’re a good girl, Rhea, and I’m so proud of you.” Now he felt like crying. “But this...wizard...has the ability to see inside people’s heads. He can see memories and Daddy is scared that he will see something he shouldn’t. Even when you aren’t saying words with your mouth.”
“What’s going to happen? I don’t want to see the scary man.”
“I know, love. I know. But I’m going to take care of it, alright? I’m just going to cast a couple of spells that will help with the memories and the anxie- er....the yucky feelings you’ll have. IF I do it, you won’t be scared of him. You won’t have to be nervous or uncomfortable. You just have to trust me.” He pulled her away from his chest to look into her red and swollen eyes. “Can you do that for me? Can you trust Daddy?”
“Will I be alright when we get home?”
“Yes, I promise. Everything will be fine.”
“Ok. Daddy. You can do the spell.”
He was a horrible father. This little girl was blindly trusting him with her whole being simply because she loved him and this was how he was going to repay that trust? He closed his eyes and summoned the strength within him to cast the curse. His hands clutched his wand tightly to keep them from shaking. This was the only way he could assure her safety.
Consequences of Love and War: Draco Malfoy, Death Eater and turncoat, is doing his best to navigate this new and darker world when something unexpected is thrown into his lap. His life changes instantly and the urge to overthrow his Lord grows stronger as he realizes time is running out. (kid fic)
Part IX is up!! You can read it on FFN or AO3!
“Rather depressing,” he said, coming to a halt beside her, “Isn’t it?”
Her fingers banged on the wrong notes as he spoke, obviously startled by his presence. “What?” She asked, turning her head to get a better look at him.
He pointed at the piano. “Beethoven, right?”
Shocked, she nodded. “Yes... Moonlight Sonata.”
“Mmmm. Thought so.” He leaned over and played a few notes. “Mother always said that it was a beautiful piece, but I’ve always found it quite melancholy.”
“You play the piano?” Her tone was questioning but her face betrayed her excitement.
“I used to when I was a child. Mother insisted that I learn, but she is far better at it than I am. I never had the patience.”
It was entirely too soon that his mother's house elf, Tilly, was requesting his presence. He sent her away and began the task of waking up his daughter, who was still fast asleep in the crook of his arm. "Rhea," he gently jostled her, "It's time to wake up."
The tiny girl yawned and stretched her arms above her head, hitting him in the face with one of her hands. "Sorry." she giggled, and he couldn't find it in himself to be upset. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Morning."
He smiled and fluffed her messy hair. "Good Morning." He was surprised she hadn't woken up crying for her mum. Perhaps she was still in shock? Or maybe she still viewed this as a temporary thing?
Either way, he was grateful that he hadn't needed to deal with tears first thing in the morning.
"I'll be right back." He said, getting up. "I'm going to get your things."
She just smiled tiredly. "Ok."
Draco returned with her bag and set it down next to her. "You need to get dressed. So pick out something to wear. We have to go."
She opened the bag and started ruffling through it. "Where are we going?"
"Do you remember the lady that we saw last night?" She nodded. "She is your grandmother and she's asked me to introduce her to you this morning. We are to have breakfast with her."
"Grandmother?"
"Yes, my mother. Did you ever meet your other grandparents?"
"I have a gran and a pop but I haven't seen them in a long time."
There was probably a rather depressing reason behind that. "Well, she is kind of like them."
"Oh." She hummed thoughtfully to herself and pulled out a teal blue sweater with white stripes and began the process of getting dressed.
Draco sighed and went about shedding his own night clothes in his large walk in closet. He quickly put on his normal brand of trousers and grabbed a dark gray button up. He headed back out towards her as he pulled an arm through the sleeve.
"What's that on your tummy?"
Startled by her voice, Draco stopped and looked down at her, then at the silvery scars along his stomach. He traced over them with his fingers. "They're scars I got a long time ago," he told her honestly.
"Uncle Harry has a scar. It still hurts him. Does your hurt too?"
It does when I think of your infuriating uncle, he wanted to say. "No, it doesn't hurt anymore," he said, quickly buttoning up his shirt. "But listen, Rhea. I know you love your uncle, but it's best that you don't talk about him anymore."
"Why?"
He had to tread carefully. He didn't want her to slip and say anything but he also didn't want to scare her. And the last thing he wanted to bloody do was obliviate her. He'd avoid that at all cost.
"Daddy doesn't have very nice friends and they don't like your Uncle Harry. If they knew you liked him they would very mean to you."
"If they are mean then why are they your friends?"
He sighed in defeat. "Well, they're not exactly my friends….more like... co-workers...people I work with."
"Like Uncle Ron and Harry?"
Salazar, grant him patience. "No, it's a little different than that, so when we are in the presence of other," he paused, rephrasing "When there are people besides me and you there, you mustn't talk about your Uncle or Aunts, even in the Mano- er- the house."
"How come?"
"Because it's very important to keep them a secret. They have to be a secret here."
"Why?"
Oh no. More questions. Did they ever end? "Because as I said earlier, people would not be happy about it. They'd be very nasty to you."
"Ok."
That's it? Just ok? "So they're a secret." he reiterated.
"I won't talk about them. Only with you."
"Good girl," he smiled and finished dressing and helping her put on her shoes. Looking at her jeans and sweater, she reminded him so much of her mother, especially the curly mop of hair. He figured he should probably do something about that before going downstairs. His mother was already sure to have a conniption with what she was wearing, so he quickly magicked her hair into a messy bun. It wasn't perfect but it would do. "Let's get some breakfast."
Narcissa Malfoy was already seated at the dining table when he shuttled Rhea into the room, though his father was notably absent. She didn't look at her son when he entered, her eyes were firmly set on the little girl he was helping into the chair nearest to her.
"Oh, Draco." He raised a brow at her soft tone and teary eyes. "She looks just like you. She's beautiful."
"Yes, well I did try to tell you last night. Though, I suppose the lighting is better here."
She frowned at his snippy response but let it go, turning her complete attention to the girl looking around the room in wonderment. He realized that she probably hadn't seen anything as big or fancy as the manor before.
"Rhea," he said, sitting down beside her, "this is my mother, Narcissa, but you can call her-"
"Grand-mère." His mother smiled brightly and reached out her hand, "It's very nice to meet you, Rhea."
She nodded and gently shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"How old are you?" she asked.
She held up four fingers. "I'm four. My next birthday I'll be five."
"And when is that, dear? Do you know?"
"June twenty-three."
That was pretty damn close to his own birthday.
"Oh, that's coming up soon. A couple of months."
"Mummy says I'll be a big girl."
"Indeed you will," the older witch agreed and began making the girl a plate herself, instead of relying on Tilly. "Do you prefer jam or butter?"
"Jam, please!"
Draco watched his mother smother a croissant with blackberry jam. It had been awhile since he'd seen her so attentive.
"Are you going to eat, daddy?"
He moved to grab his own pastry. "Of course."
"There you are," Narcissa motioned for Rhea to take a bite.
Her eyes widened as she chewed. "This is the best ever!" She exclaimed after swallowing. "Almost better than daddy's scones."
His mother just smiled and sipped her tea, watching the little girl eat her croissant and jam. For being so young and living with Potter of all people, she actually had decent table manners and always said please and thank you. He shouldn't be that surprised though. Granger wasn't rude, despite being raised by muggles. Obviously, even they'd had decent social protocol it seemed.
After they'd finished eating he decided that he needed to speak with his mother but was hesitant to do so in front of Rhea. He was equally as hesitant to let her out of his sight though. "Would you like to go outside?" he asked her, knowing he could keep an eye on her from the terrace.
"Yes, please!" She screeched excitedly.
He put on her coat from the night before and then led her out to the back patio overlooking the first garden. She bounded down the stairs and ran right up to a lilac bush, fingers lightly touching the tiny petals. "Flowers are pretty."
"They are," he agreed, coming to a stop behind her.
"Mummy gots me white flowers for my birthday. We made flower crowns with Aunt-" she paused and looked up at him and his mother, eyes widening as she remembered her promise, and started the sentence over. "We made flower crowns. Mummy looked really pretty. More pretty than the flowers."
A vision of Hermione with long bouncy locks and a ring of calla lilies atop her head entered his mind and he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "I'm sure she was."
"You think Mummy is pretty too?"
"Of course," he insisted, "She's the prettiest witch I know."
His mother made an unflattering noise behind him but he ignored it.
"Next time we sees her, you have to tell her that."
The thought of seeing her again made his stomach flutter. Merlin, he'd love to see her again, but the world and fate itself were cruel. "I promise. The next time I see your mum, I'll tell her how pretty she is."
"Good. She would like that."
"I need to talk to your grand-mère now, so why don't you go play in the gardens? Tilly will go with you."
"I can play outside?" He nodded and a happy grin took up half of her face. "I never get to go outside long. It feels nice. And it's bright and lots of colors are here."
Now his mother made a noise of distress at the notion that her granddaughter had most likely spent all of her time inside, what she would assume to be, a brothel.
His heart clenched with the truth. Even the bastards that lived in whorehouses probably had more freedom than what his daughter had had.
"Yes. You can play outside. Just stay where I can see you."
She didn't answer, instead, she took off running, stray hair falling out of her bun behind her. Of all the things to inherit from her mother. No, he was rather fond of her hair, to be honest. Perfection was overrated.
"Little Miss!" Tilly called, chasing after her. "Wait for Tilly!"
He turned back towards the house and walked up the steps, following his mother until she stopped. Wistfully she looked out over the terrace and watched the girl frolic through the flowers, the elf only two steps behind her. "She's wonderful, darling."
"I'm glad you approve-" he began.
"But what in Merlin's name is she wearing?" she asked with distaste.
Leave it to his mother to be concerned about that, not that he hadn't already known. He was surprised it had taken her this long to comment. "Let us not forget where it is she came from."
"Just because I know, doesn't mean I'm still not startled by the lack of attire befitting a girl."
"I give you free reign to dress her however you want, mother."
"There was no question to that, dear." She chuckled quietly. "Sometimes I feel the need to still dress you."
"And what's wrong with the way I dress?"
"Absolutely nothing. It's just rather...drab, isn't it?"
"I don't suppose you've noticed but we are in still in a war. It's not like we are hosting galas and going to Opera's."
"True," she replied, "Though your complexion may look a bit better if you'd wear something other than black."
He rolled his eyes. "I'll make sure to add some green and blue to my wardrobe if it so pleases you."
"It does." She smiled, and he could tell how relaxed she'd become talking about something so simple as clothing. It had probably been a long time since she'd spoken so freely with anyone. It made him feel a bit guilty. Especially because he was about to make things uncomfortable again.
"I couldn't help but notice father was nowhere to be seen." He watched her mouth tighten.
"I wanted to meet her first before I spoke with him. I'm sure you understand how delicate this situation is."
"I do. That is why I will let you handle him. It might come down to a duel if you left it up to me."
"Why must you fight with your father, Draco?" She asked rather curtly.
"I don't know," he lied, "He irritates me on the best of days and is downright loathsome on the worst."
"If this is about the Inner-"
"It's not," he insisted, "At least not on my part. He may be cross that I've outranked him, but I don't let that get to my head. I've never goaded him over the fact."
She sighed, no doubt upset that her husband and only son seemed to always be at odds and there was nothing she could do about it. "In any case, we must approach him cautiously with this news."
He agreed and was quiet for a moment as he watched Rhea hiding from Tilly. The morning sun shone brightly on her blonde hair, making it almost glow as she jumped out from behind a rose bush. The elf actually smiled and chased the girl around the stone bench closest to them. The sound of Rhea's angelic giggles drifted over to him and he lost his senses for a moment. Everything took on a dream like hue as he stood there, transfixed on the happy scene. Looking at her now, he could almost forget that they were in the middle of a war. He could almost forget that he was planning the fall of his lord. He could almost forget the sad cry she let out when she realized she was leaving the only life she'd ever known. He could almost tear tracks that had lined Hermione's face as she walked away from them. He could almost forget that he'd only known this new love in his chest for 12 hours. He wished he could forget. Maybe then it would be easier to believe in the fairy tale that they'd be a family one day.
"Darling, what's wrong?"
His mother broke him out of his thoughts. Obviously, he'd been quiet too long. "Can I speak freely?" She motioned for him to continue. "I'm worried," he admitted. "I told her mother that she'd be safe with me, and part of me believes that. But are any of us truly safe?"
"Draco-"
"I have to protect her," his hand rubbed at the mark on his arm, hidden by his shirt, "I have to protect her from them, from all of this."
"It isn't as daunting of a task as you'd imagine." She replied, patting his arm. "You've lucked out with her countenance. She is the spitting image of you so no one can question her paternity. The only thing we must keep information control over is the maternity. I can fake a birth certificate and I owled your cousin Irene this morning to see what we can do about naming a mother."
He was left speechless. He knew his mother was clever and resourceful, but he hadn't imagined she'd be so quick about this, or that she'd want to help. It still shocked him that she wasn't angry with him. She even looked rather fond of Rhea, which was understandable because she was bloody adorable, but she was a half-blood. It was unthinkable that she'd be so accepting. Perhaps she was more like him, and less inclined to dismiss all those outside their pure-blood circle. "That was fast."
"We have to get ahead of this, darling. You never know who will be sticking their nose in your business. You're an important player in our Lord's game. You don't need me to tell you how dangerous that makes your life."
"No, you certainly don't."
"Your father is our first hurdle, after that, you will need to focus on his group of friends, and yours. Eventually, you will have to introduce her to the Inner Circle."
Fear shot up his spine at the thought, but he knew it was inevitable. "I'm aware."
"You just continue doing what you've always done. You keep your back straight and have confidence in your abilities. The only one with any authority to do anything would be the Dark Lord. As long as we don't make a great fuss about it, he should have no reason to question it further after we present him with proof."
Circe, he hoped she was right. He didn't want his daughter anywhere near the evil wizard.
"I guess we'll just have to take it a step at a time."
"It will be fine, Draco."
"I hope you're right, mother." He clenched his jaw and swallowed down the dread that was quickly consuming him. "I hope you're right."
"Rhea," his mother addressed her, "this is Severus Snape, he is a friend of ours."
She politely looked up from her toys and smiled, though it seemed a bit off to him. Over the last few days, he'd become quite acclimated with her facial expressions, tics, and nuances. "Hello, Mr. Severus."
"See, isn't she darling?" Narcissa crooned. "While I'm saddened by her loss I'm happy that her mother seemed to instill manners in her."
The dark haired man snapped his head up at her words. "Her...mother?"
"Yes. Eileen Dubois. It was dreadful really," She began reciting the cover story she had come up with. "To be taken by a fever. So young and so much life ahead of her. It was truly tragic. I'm just grateful her living relative knew to contact Draco after her passing. Who knows what would have happened to the poor girl. The Dubois, while still a pureblood line, have nearly died out, you know."
He didn't look like he believed her but replied slowly, "Then she is certainly lucky to have been reunited with her father."
"As you can see, it has changed the family dynamic somewhat," Lucius said with a roll of his eyes.
Instead of replying he turned his attention to Draco. "Draco, I'd like a word if you have a moment?"
The look on his godfather's face confirmed that his earlier fears just might be true. He followed him down the hall and into the library where he promptly leveled Draco with perhaps the sternest look he could muster.
Consequences of Love and War: War Drabble Series Part VI (Part I)
Harry and Ginny were waiting by the back door when Hermione stumbled in fifteen minutes past midnight. They both looked worried and a bit relieved to see her but she didn't really have it in her to care.
"You're late," Harry said. "We thought-"
"Draco wouldn't have turned me over to them, Harry." She said without feeling. "And it was your idea in the first place."
He frowned at her tone, "I know. I was just worried I made a mistake."
"Me too," she whispered.
"Hermione-" He reached for her but Ginny pulled him back.
"Leave her, Harry."
"But-"
"Now is not the time," she told him, sadness evident in her voice.
Hermione was grateful for her intervention. She loved Harry, she really did, and she'd do anything for him. She'd already done so much for him but she just couldn't look at him right now. It hurt too much. Everything hurt too much. She was surprised she wasn't drowning in a puddle of her own tears.
The thought of a shower entered her mind but it was fleeting. She was too tired for that. Instead, she went straight to the room that she and Rhea had shared and stripped out of her clothes, climbing into the bed with nothing but her knickers and an old worn shirt. She grabbed the faded purple blanket that her daughter had slept with and snuggled up with it, pressing her nose to the fabric in the attempt to memorize the smell there. Tears sprang to her eyes and her heart felt like it was about to rupture from the pressure inside her chest. She wanted Rhea. She wanted to kiss her face and run her fingers through her hair. She wanted to sing her to sleep and argue about which book to read. She wanted her baby. Was it too late to take it back? She could send him a secret letter again, beg him to return their daughter to her. She knew he'd do it. He'd do it if she asked him.
No.
She couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to Rhea. It was the right thing to do. He had the capability to get her out of London. He had power. He could move freely. She would be well fed and taken care of. She'd be warm and have a stable, unchanging environment. She wouldn't be in the cross fire. What kind of mother would she be if she brought her back to hunger and fear?
No, she couldn't do that to her. She had a chance to live well until the war ended. And if the worst case scenario happened, and The Resistance failed, she wouldn't be in the line of fire. She'd survive. And that's what Hermione wanted. It was more important that she stay alive.
So she clutched the blanket in her hands and let herself cry. She couldn't be selfish, not with Rhea's life.
She had to be strong.
She'd told her daughter to be brave, so she needed to brave too.
****
"Wimsy," Draco called the elf to his side and gave him the small bag he'd brought with them, "Will you go ahead of us and get the guest room closest to mine ready for Rhea?"
"Of course, Master," he replied, bowing slightly before popping out of existence.
"Where did Mr. Wimsy go?"
"He's getting a bedroom ready for you."
Her eyes widened. "I get a whole room?"
He chuckled at the expression on her face. "Yes, you get your very own room. I'll get you your own toys too."
He lead her through the back hallways of the manor to his wing. When he opened the door to her room she stopped, blue eyes taking in everything from the furniture to the wall sconces. "Wow."
"Do you like it," he asked, hand gently leading her further inside.
"Yes!" she nodded happily. "It's pretty."
"I'm glad."
Wimsy stood by the bedside table, a pair of pink pajamas in his hands. He set them on the bed and asked, "Is there anything else you'll be requiring, sir?"
"No," Draco dismissed, "You can go."
Again the old elf bowed and disappeared.
"I think it's time to get you to bed. It's rather late and growing girls need their sleep."
Rhea jumped on the bed. "Ok."
Draco paused, picking up her night clothes. "Do you- um- need help with these?"
She nodded and started taking off her shoes and socks. He helped her with the rest of her clothes but let out a frustrated sigh when her hair got caught in the top.
"You're not very good at this." She stated matter of factly as he tried unsuccessfully to get her pajamas on her for the third time.
"Cut me some slack, kid. I've never done this before."
A tiny giggle escaped her lips and she helped him with the buttons on her top. "There. All done."
Thank Circe, he thought to himself before saying, "Alright, time to go to sleep."
She nodded and grabbed the stuffed animal that Wimsy had propped up against the headboard.
"Now I'm ready." She stated, laying down and letting him tuck her in.
Ok. She was dressed for bed and secure in her blankets. She had plenty of pillows and her bear. He'd even conjured a night light but there was something else he felt like he should be doing. But what?
What would Hermione do?
Hug her? Kiss her?
He didn't think he could do either of those yet so he settled for patting her head fondly. "Goodnight, Rhea."
She hugged the bear to her chest. "Night daddy."
He would never get used to that title.
He extinguished the lights and shut the door behind him before heading to his own chambers.
Draco poured a glass of Firewhiskey as soon as he stepped inside and paced in front of his fireplace, mind racing as the events of the day suddenly crashed down on him.
He had a daughter. A daughter that was sleeping in the next room. A daughter that was half of him and half of Hermione. That last day...she'd been pregnant and he hadn't known. If he'd known he wouldn't have let her walk away. He wouldn't have let her go back to Potter and their band of reckless wizards. He would have taken her far away from this bloody war.
Rhea had been born basically in the slums and had been in hiding her whole life. What had she gone through since her birth? What had both of them gone through? Hermione was beaten up and half starved and Rhea wasn't much better, though she looked a bit better fed. Obviously, her mother took care of her first. It didn't hurt any less though. He didn't want to think about either of them in pain.
Merlin, he hated this. He wished things had been different, but wishing was pointless. He couldn't change the past, he could only work towards the future. She was here now and he had promised her mother that he'd take care of her. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to do that but he'd try. There was already such a drive inside of him to protect her. Just the thought of anyone hurting her made his blood boil. Was this how all parents felt when they thought about their children? Did his father feel the anger and hatred bubble up when Draco was in pain or in trouble? Did he sit up and worry about him?
He downed the rest of his whiskey and set the empty glass on the mantle.
He needed to rest. He couldn't think or plot anything with all these thoughts and feelings consuming him. He needed to calm down and figure it out. He'd have to change his plans a bit now, and he would have to tread carefully. The Dark Lord would question this. Draco was in the Inner Circle now. He was a "trusted" member in the group and had responsibilities within the Ministry. This would cause more than a few brows to raise. He'd just have to speak with his mother. She was better with situations like these. If they could come up with a good enough lie, everything should be fine. Of course, he'd be hard pressed to allow Rhea to step foot outside the Manor anytime soon and he wanted to keep her a secret for as long as possible.
His head was pounding from the stress so he took a pain relief potion before changing out of his clothes. He didn't know if could calm down enough to sleep, but he sure as hell was going to try.
And he'd almost succeeded.
Almost.
He'd just settled down under the heavy blanket and was slowly drifting off to sleep when he heard the creaking of the door handle being turned. He sat up, alarmed at first, but settled down when he saw who it was standing in the doorway. "Rhea? What's wrong?"
"I can't sleep." She told him, "It's too big."
"What's too big?"
"The bed." She replied, climbing up on the end of his. "I always sleep with mummy."
Oh no. No. He never shared his bed with anyone. Not even his one night stands he used to take the edge off. He wasn't comfortable sharing close space with people for an extended period of time. It was stifling and he would never sleep. So no, his bed was his and that was that.
He was about to tell her just that and take her back to her own bed, but the look on her face zapped away all his resolve.
Dammit. She was four and she didn't have her mum. This was the first time she'd been away from her family. She was surrounded by unfamiliarity and was probably a lot more afraid than she looked. He was the only thing in this house she knew. And that wasn't saying much because he was still basically a stranger.
Blast.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply, pulling the edge of the covers on the other side of the bed down.
He didn't miss the smile that spread on her face as she crawled under them and laid down, bringing the blanket up under her chin and closing her eyes. "Night night." she yawned.
"Goodnight," he replied softly, watching her as she quickly fell asleep.
He slowly moved to lay back down, hands behind his head and eyes staring up at the ceiling. He was going to need a Pepper Up potion in the morning because there was no way he was getting any sleep now.
His eyes flicked to the sleeping girl beside him.
He supposed it was worth it.
At some point during the night, she'd migrated over to his side of the bed. By the time the sun was rising, casting light through the window, he was holding her close and just listening to the sound of her breathing.