We Can Work It Out

“You want me to what?” Draco sat at his desk leafing through piles of statistics that for some odd reason smelled of cloves, cinnamon and rancid meat.

“You need to be Mum’s sperm donor,” Christine replied as if she were explaining things to a small child. She folded her arms and leaned back on Hermione’s desk and patted herself on the back for not knocking anything off. ‘Dad’ was looking at her with that piercing, grey eyed gaze that made her feel like she was thirteen and he was reading her mind to find out where the peach schnapps she hid under her bed was located.

“Dover, you now have the rest of the day off. I don’t care what you do with it, but please leave and do not stay at the Ministry or attempt to owl the office. It is only my deep respect for you as an educational researcher that is preventing me from telling you exactly how much air I think was cut off from your brain during birth, resulting in you making horrendous decisions regarding hounds tooth plaid pants and asking me to offer my reproductive services to a colleague.” He bent his head over the parchment and hoped she couldn’t detect the faint blush creeping up his almost translucent skin.

“But she’s much more than just a colleague, isn’t she?” Draco froze at her words. How could a girl who couldn’t even see a doorframe see how pathetically in love he was with Granger?

He looked up at her and said, “You shouldn’t say things like that, Dover. You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Besides, I’m hardly an acceptable candidate.”

“And you think Cormac MacLaggen is? She had enough sense to tell him no, but what about Michael Corner? Sure he’s good looking, polite and charming, but can you honestly imagine Mum having a child with him? That boring, vanilla oaf? He didn’t fight in the war. He’d much rather pretend that everything is A-okay, hunky-dory. If she chose him he’d ignore any problems the child would have outside of a skinned knee because he is afraid of deep problems. And what about Dean Thomas? Sure he’s fine now, but what if like most artists he goes on an absinthe binge and tells the kid that he or she is the spawn of Azriel or Zeus and then does a portrait of the poor child with wings in a golden shower? Don’t get me started on Blaise Zabini, he’s just…”

“Blaise Zabini? You have to be mistaken, he has no interest in Hermione.” Christine did a little inward victory dance at the adamant tone in Draco’s voice. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself that a long held suspicion just wasn’t true.

“Blaise sent in an owl and he is currently meeting with her for lunch at The Gardenia. I think she’s only meeting with him out of curiosity, but you know how persuasive he can be.” Deciding she’d planted enough seeds of doubt in his brain for one afternoon, Christine carefully took her leave.

“You’re certain she met with him?” Draco asked, his color rising.

“Absolutely,” she replied.

“Cancel any appointments I might have had for the day. I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the afternoon.” Draco got up and put on his cloak, his mouth set in a determined line. He put several sensitive documents in his desk before apparating to Zabini’s luxurious flat.

He found the Italian man sitting in a hot tub with a witch who could only be described as ‘affordable’ massaging his shoulders while some opera played in the background. The white marble of the tub that was situated slightly off from the living room contrasted perfectly with the man’s skin. Blaise opened one eye and merely smiled a Cheshire cat smile at his oldest friend as he continued to enjoy the ministrations of the witch behind him.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Draco seethed. He’d formerly considered the man before him his oldest friend and now he saw him for what he truly was: an opportunistic Brutus, a traitor.

“I suppose you’re talking about Hermione and our eventual progeny.” Blaise shooed the witch behind him away and sunk beneath the water before emerging again, his dark skin glittering with water streaming down it. Draco was instantly envious. With his own pale complexion he would merely turn pink in a hot tub, not look like some Roman god come to life. Was this why Hermione had chosen Blaise?

“How could you? You know how I feel about her!”

“A feeling you have done absolutely nothing about, Draco. I’ve wanted to shag her since fourth year and you have kept me from that goal, quite selfishly, I might add. My mother is bugging me for a grandchild and she loves Granger. I have no desire to get married or to pick some awful witch like the one who was just in here to bear my child. Hermione wants to get pregnant, so I get to kill two owls with one spell. I have no remorse in shagging her or getting her pregnant because you never even put yourself in the running. This was a perfect opportunity and you just wasted it. I will not do the same.” Blaise stared him hard in the eyes and Draco could feel the truth in his words.

“You don’t even care about her. She’s just some random bird to shag to you. She deserves better, she deserves-“

“She deserves what? You? You who are so cowardly you won’t even tell her you love her unless you’re drunk and just recently shagged some nameless bint at a bar? Is that what she deserves? At least I’m honest with her and I don’t monopolize her life like some needy child so that she can’t even start a real relationship with someone like Wood? Oh, spot on, Draco, that’s exactly what she deserves. How many other women have you shagged whilst you’ve been ‘in love’ with her?” Blaise stepped out of the hot tub, completely naked and advanced on Draco. “If you’re so in love with her, why not let her make her own decisions. You have no claim on her. She is nothing to you other than a work colleague. Just because you fantasize about more doesn’t mean you can keep her locked away from everyone else like some princess in a tower. You won’t make a move, fine, be a coward. Don’t get upset though when others come looking for the treasure you’re so content to throw away. You had your chance, now it’s mine. I’m going to father her children. Don’t worry, she’s making you godfather, so you’ll still get to live in your own little world where you are the tragic hero who desires her, but won’t ‘taint’ her with your supposedly black life whilst you bang every bird who isn’t her. I’m sure you’ll get a Christmas card.”

Draco stared at Blaise’s lean hips and decided right then that Hermione’s thighs would never be acquainted with those hips or what lay between them. “Stay away from her,” he said in an eerily calm voice. “This is my only warning. She doesn’t need you in any capacity whatsoever.”



Draco apparated into Hermione’s living room, making her squeak and drop her tea. “Couldn’t you have at least flooed? What if I’d been doing something embarrassing?” she admonished him while cleaning up her spilt tea.

“Are you really going to let Blaise be the father of your child?”

“I don’t know. He’s come the closest thus far to offering what I need, but I still find him lacking.” Hermione got up and sat down on the couch in her track pants and oversized Manchester United sweat shirt. She was used to Draco coming over at odd hours, but it still shocked her to have him apparate directly into her flat with no warning. He looked rather desperate at the moment, but she couldn’t smell the sour scent of alcohol that usually warranted his odd behavior.

“Why? Why do you find him lacking? What’s not right?”

Hermione sighed. She’d been reading Steinbeck’s ‘A Moveable Feast’ and it was very difficult to redirect her thoughts from early twentieth century Paris to modern day London and reasons she couldn’t quite come up with herself. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just never thought of Blaise as father material. When I was coming up with a faceless stranger, I guess Blaise just possesses certain qualities I didn’t want the father of my children to have. However, he is correct that we do have a lot of the same principles and that we both have no interest in finding a spouse at the moment and I have absolutely no romantic feelings about him whatsoever, so this won’t get emotionally sticky.”

Draco stared at her so long she felt uncomfortable. “What qualities does he have that you don’t want?”

“Er, well, he’s overly promiscuous. I mean, I know I haven’t exactly been little miss proper, but Blaise views people as disposable if they can’t aid him in whatever goal he wants and if he gets what he wants from them, he no longer has any use for that person. I don’t want my son to believe that it is acceptable for him to treat women that way or my daughter to think that it’s normal for men to only find her valuable if she’s beautiful. I also don’t like the fact that he stays out every single night partying. I want someone more settled. However, I realize that I can’t dictate perfection. I’ll have to make a few concessions. It isn’t as if I have any other options.”

“You are so BLIND!” Draco started out soft and yelled the last word.

“What?” Hermione was shocked. It had been at least twelve years since he had yelled at her while sober.

“You- you’re always looking at me, but you never see me!” Draco was now pacing in front of her fireplace, a crazy look in his eye.

“What on earth are you talking about, Draco?” She hardly ever used his first name and when she did, it cut through him like a knife.

“You never even considered me as a possibility, did you? I haven’t been drunk in over half a year, I haven’t shagged anyone for well over eight months and I’m much more moral than Blaise bloody Zabini when it comes to how I treat people. My interaction with clutzy Christine and do-little Dover should be evidence enough for that. But you never even considered asking me! I used to think I was the closest person to you, but now I know I’m just some ex-Death Eater pet project because with Potter and Weasley gone you need a charity case to take care of, don’t you?”

Hermione glared at the man in front of her and got to her feet, looking as intimidating as she could in lounge wear. “How dare you belittle our friendship like that!” she seethed. “I never asked you because I didn’t want to presume upon our friendship and because that day I first brought it up to you, you acted disgusted. Excuse me if I didn’t selfishly pull you along with my ideas.”

“You said that we’re all the other one has got. I don’t want you to start a family with anyone else. You are my family. If you have a child, I want it to be my family as well. Godfather isn’t good enough.”

“What are you saying?” Hermione was confused. She knew that the two were close, but she never dreamed in a million years that he would want any kind of relationship with her other than a sibling-type relationship.

“I’m saying, that you are going to owl Blaise and tell him to piss off. I want to be your child’s father. There isn’t a better candidate and you know it.”

Draco felt like his heart was going to thud out of his chest as he watched Hermione sit back down and her brow furrow in thought. Finally, she looked up at him and said, “Okay.”