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Consequences and Complexities	By : ckllsdam Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 16346 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and canon situations belong to the Harry Potter fandom and JKRowling. Plot and OCs are mine. I make no money from this work.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter 15 – Optimism

Draco’s undeniably pleasant dream was abruptly interrupted by something, or someone, patting his cheek. The hand was small and vaguely sticky and the voice that echoed in his ear less than a second later confirmed his easy guess.

“Papa Drake! Wake up!”

He pried open one eye and rolled to his side to disguise the rather obvious tent in his blanket. While the child wouldn’t be offended or really have any clue what she was seeing, it was likely that someone else might be in the room; Louisa wasn’t tall enough to have opened the door or climbed onto the bed by herself. The natural reaction needn’t attract undue attention. “Good morning, Louisa,” he croaked with a sleep-deepened voice.

“Oh, Draco! I’m so sorry!” he heard Hermione say. “She got away from me while I was finishing getting dressed.”

He curled his knees up, stretching his lower back in the process, noting that the bed he’d once thought was incredibly comfortable was now too soft for his liking. He yawned and smiled sleepily. “No problem. I’m sure it’s time to get up. How did she get in, though? She’s not big enough to climb up here,” he wondered, concluding that his earlier assumption was apparently wrong.

“Oh, that was me, dear!” The pronouncement from his mother broke his and Hermione’s silent confusion. Narcissa emerged from Draco’s bathroom carrying an armful of fresh bed linens and towels. “I thought you might need fresh linens,” she stated, tipping her head to indicate the stack she held. “It’s Tuppy’s morning off, so I thought I’d gather them for you.”

“Thank you, Mother, but I’m sure I would have been able to find them. I have lived on my own for three years, you know,” he teased.

“I’m quite sure you are more than capable, but it’s been a long time since I was able to do something for you. Indulge me, for once,” she retorted.

Knowing when he was defeated, Draco acquiesced. “Yes, Mother. Thank you, Mother,” he replied with a wry smile. He noted that Hermione was hiding one of her own behind her hand and looked at her pointedly, communicating silently that he recognized that they had both been steamrolled once or twice by Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione shrugged in silent, vaguely amused acknowledgment. She stretched out her hand to beckon her daughter so that Draco could get himself organized for the day, but Louisa would have none of it.

“No, Mummy. Cuddle time with Papa Drake!” she announced, scooting closer to her father.

Hermione looked to Draco for his agreement or refusal and found decidedly mixed emotions crossing the man’s face. This was a decision she needed to make. “Louisa, Papa needs to get dressed and ready for the day, and I have to get ready for work, so cuddle time will have to wait a little bit.”

Her tone brooked no nonsense and Louisa recognized it as a moment she’d not get her way. She surprised everyone by plopping a sloppy kiss on the tip of Draco’s nose and crawling back to the edge of the bed to slide down over the side on her own, categorically refusing the help offered by any of the three adults in the room. “Okay. Papa Drake, cuddle time is later,” she stated solemnly, looking into the grey eyes that were so like her own.

In an equally serious tone, Draco replied, “Of course it is, Louisa. Once I get a shower and put some clothes on, we can spend some time together. I’ll take you for a walk in the gardens and we can read a book. Is that okay?”

Blonde curls bobbed up and down in agreement. “Yes, Papa Drake,” she allowed, taking her mother’s hand as they left Draco and his mother behind.

When only mother and son were left in the room, Narcissa perched on the side of the bed, prompting Draco to sit up with his back against the headboard, the coverlet and sheets dropping away from his bare chest and pooling in his lap. Narcissa eyed the expanse of flesh and lifted an eyebrow. “You might want to think about sleeping in something more than your birthday suit, dear. Your daughter may not be above tugging your blankets away,” she remarked.

“Mother, it’s only a bare chest. You see no different at a beach or pool. I am wearing boxers. And I won’t be here more than a few days, anyway,” he reminded her.

“Well, still,” she answered, but offered no further complaint.

Since she hadn’t moved, Draco assumed she had another purpose in visiting him so early in the morning beyond scolding him for his lack of proper nightwear. He decided to speed things along. “What are you really doing here, Mother?” He crossed his arms over his chest, hoping that he appeared more confrontational than defensive with the move.

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering what you had planned for the day,” she stated, trying to keep any hint of manipulation or agenda out of her voice.

“Once I visit the loo and take a shower,” he hinted, not terribly subtly, “I plan to get dressed and spend a little time with my daughter. Later this afternoon, I have a number of Floo calls to make with regard to her status and inheritance. I had also hoped to visit the townhouse and see what needs to be done to get it ready for occupancy. Why do you ask?” He successfully kept frustration out of his reply but it was impossible to hold back his suspicion. His mother, after all, was at least as sneaky and scheming as his father.

“That’s a very sound plan. I was thinking, though,” she began, as Draco thought, Here it comes…, “That you might want to wait until Hermione is back from work to go to the townhouse.”

Draco wanted to protest, just on principle, but could find no fault in his mother’s suggestion. It would give them time alone, and there were perfectly valid reasons for their visit. After all, he had no idea what would need to be done to prepare a home-away-from-home for their daughter.

“Good idea, Mother. Wish I’d thought of it myself,” he replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my bladder is about to burst and I need a shower if I’m to get everything I’ve planned accomplished today.” He moved to lift the blankets covering his lap and that was more than enough for his mother to conclude that she had, in fact, been dismissed.

Since her goal had been achieved, with much less effort than she’d feared would be required, she took no offense and simply smiled at her son. “Of course, dear. Have a lovely morning!” she chirped, heading for his bedroom door. She paused, her hand resting lightly on the doorknob and turned back to face her son. “Louisa seems to have taken to you very quickly,” she observed quietly, finally opening the door and exiting his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

“Yes, Mother, it seems she has,” he softly replied to the empty room. Left unspoken but not unacknowledged was his thought that he had become smitten rather quickly, too.

Draco absorbed her observation for a moment, thinking that it was a happy, if unexpected, development, then shook his head and huffed a sound of blended amusement at her pronouncement and annoyance at the time it had taken to finally get everyone out of his room. Now, he did toss off the covers and dash to the loo, relieving the strain of the long wait while he entertained his unexpected early-morning visitors. The only family member who hadn’t shown up was his father. The young man stripped off his boxers and turned on the taps in the grey-veined marble shower stall, waiting a moment for the water to reach his preferred temperature. As he stepped in under the spray, he heard the door to his bedchamber open and his father’s voice call out for him. That makes the gathering complete, he thought.

“In the shower, Father,” he replied. “Give me ten minutes, please?”

“No need, Draco, I’ll just be a minute,” he announced as he entered the steamy bathroom.

“Can’t a bloke have a little privacy around here?” Draco muttered under his breath. He sighed deeply. “What can I do for you, then?”

“Your mother tells me that you are planning to spend the afternoon with Miss Granger when she comes home from work. Do you have a particular plan in mind, Son?” he inquired.

The younger wizard wondered when in Merlin’s name she’d had the opportunity to pass that information along; the decision had been made less than five minutes earlier. His father had probably been waiting in the hall, conspiring to pounce if Narcissa had been unsuccessful in nudging his actions in the desired direction. “Father, there is no grand plan, and we’re not ‘spending the afternoon’ together for any purpose other than to see the townhouse,” Draco explained while he shampooed his hair. “I’m hoping that she’ll help me select a room and appropriate furnishings for when Louisa comes to visit.”

“Ah, lovely. May I assume that you’ll also arrange a room for Miss Granger to use when the three of you are there together?” Lucius prodded.

Draco, grateful that his father couldn’t see him inside the shower enclosure, shook his head and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, Father,” he noted impatiently, “I plan to ensure that she has an appropriate space there, too, although I can’t see too many occasions when she’s likely to use it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Draco,” he admonished. “I’m quite sure she’ll want to be near when Louisa is visiting you.”

The thought gave Draco reason to pause, his fingers stilled and buried deep in his sudsy scalp. “Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t think she has any concerns about the two of you spending time alone together. I’m sure she trusts absolutely that you wouldn’t be unwatchful of Louisa. It’s just that they are rarely apart and Hermione is very protective of your daughter. She’ll want to ensure that Louisa is comfortable with you.”

Draco felt a bit of relief; he wouldn’t have been entirely shocked to hear that Hermione had trepidations about leaving the child with him. “Well, first, remember that I’m not planning to stay terribly long in the townhouse; it’s a temporary measure until I find a home of my own. Second, since it will likely be Hermione’s home at some point, it would only be right to have her input in its furnishing and decoration. And third, I hope that by the time I leave here at the weekend, Louisa and I will have developed enough familiarity that she’ll have no hesitation about spending time with me, regardless of Hermione’s presence. In fact, Mother was just commenting on how well Louisa seems to have adjusted to my presence already. Does that satisfy all of your curiosity, Father, because I’d really like to finish my shower and get dressed, if it’s all the same to you?”

“Yes, of course, Draco,” Lucius replied, indulgently. “But if I might make one more suggestion…”

“What is it, Father?” Draco’s slight impatience was rapidly turning to irritation.

“If I recall correctly, there’s a lovely double suite on the second floor. You might give her the master and take the secondary suite for your own. They each have a private bath but are joined by a common sitting room. It would be an appropriate place for the two of you to have your… weekly meetings.”

Draco couldn’t deny that his father’s idea had merit, but he was chafing mightily at the man’s rather transparent attempts to “coach” his interactions with Hermione. “Fabulous idea, Father. Now, get out of here so I can get dressed!”

Lucius barely stifled his laughter as he retreated from the bathroom, his mission accomplished. “Have a lovely day, Draco!”

Draco suppressed a groan and finished his shower, stepping out and wrapping a towel around his hips before finishing his morning routine. A shave, teeth cleaning and hair combing were complete in ten minutes and he exited the bathroom to get dressed. He stopped abruptly as he reentered the bedroom, wondering what, exactly, he could wear. As far as he knew, all of his clothes were still packed. He hoped that his mother might have butted into his business just this once; he didn’t relish the idea of calling for a house-elf for assistance to find clothing. A quick check of his walk-in closet showed that some of the clothing he’d left behind three years earlier was still hanging on the bars that lined the circumference of the small room. Sadly, few of these items would still fit. He’d not really grown in height in the time he was away, but he had filled out some, especially in his chest and arms. He reached for some undergarments and a pair of black pants that were of a fairly classic cut. Most of his shirts simply wouldn’t fit, so he grabbed a pale blue cashmere jumper from a shelf and pulled that on over his head. It was a little snug, but not uncomfortably so. It would have to do until he was able to buy a few new things. Maybe he’d find some time to do that later in the day.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Draco tugged on black socks and laced up a pair of black leather oxfords. It seemed that the house-elves had probably been cleaning in his room during his absence; there was no dust on the footwear and the leather shone as though it had just been polished.

He rose to go to his desk where he retrieved the list of actions he’d prepared the night before. He glanced through it quickly and noted that he really did have a lot to accomplish today, and that didn’t include the idea he’d had while talking with David the previous night. That project alone would take weeks to pull together. He folded the parchment and tucked into his pocket. First, though, was breakfast. While he’d been able to enjoy reasonably good tea in Salem thanks to the care packages his parents delivered, it never tasted quite the same as his memory supplied. He’d developed a bit of a palate for coffee – it was hard to avoid in the States – but a fabulous cup of tea would always be his first choice. He had also missed the delicate, freshly baked scones that were always available at the Manor. He practically ran down the stairs in his haste to have an old favorite treat.

As he entered the family dining room, it was clear that the morning meal had been underway for quite some time. Hermione was finishing her tea and toast, Louisa was nearly done with her fruit and porridge, and his parents had nothing more than crumbs in their plates. It looked as though he might be dining alone. Though that had been a daily occurrence in Salem, he had been looking forward to sharing breakfast with his family today. The disappointment must have been evident in his expression, as his father glanced to him and then made the extraordinary move of taking another lemon-raspberry scone from the platter in the center of the table.

“Good morning again, Draco,” Hermione greeted him first. “I need to dash off to work, but I’m sure we’ll speak later.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he replied. “Actually, I’m glad to have caught up with you before you leave. I wonder if you might be available after work to accompany me to the townhouse. I want your help in selecting a room and furnishings for Louisa, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

She seemed a bit surprised that he would want to move so quickly to set up his new home, and hesitated a moment before agreeing. “Uh, yes, I think I could do that. Shall we meet here and go together? I assume you know the location and I’ve never been there.”

“That would be fine. I have things I need to attend to, but I expect that I’ll be done around five o’clock,” Draco noted.

“Perfect. I usually get home about half five, so that will give you a little leeway,” she offered. “Should we bring Louisa?”

Draco paused, glancing briefly at his father who made a barely perceptible shake of his head, indicating that a private meeting would be more desirable. “I think this first visit would be better just the two of us. I don’t know the current condition of things and I’d hate to have her be disappointed.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” She rose from her chair, dropped a kiss on Louisa’s head, telling the toddler to behave for her grandparents, and left the room with a wave and goodbye.

Draco, who’d taken a seat beside Louisa’s booster chair, reached for a blueberry scone and a dish of clotted cream. Tuppy was by his side in seconds, pouring his favorite Earl Grey tea. He thanked the house-elf, causing his father to twitch his lips, and turned to face his daughter. “Would it be all right with you to spend a little time this morning with Papa?” he asked.

The toddler had obviously been taught a little about manners, because she didn’t answer aloud, chewing happily on a piece of melon. She indicated her agreement with an enthusiastic bobbing of her head.

Draco smiled broadly. “I’m so glad. It’s a nice day, so maybe we can take a walk outside. Papa will read you a story later, too, if you like. I know you wanted one last night, but you were already asleep when Mummy and I came back to your room.”

Narcissa watched the exchange, apparently amused by something.

“What?” Draco prompted.

“Do you always refer to yourself in the third person?” she teased.

“Uh, not really. I guess I… sort of like the idea of being ‘Papa,’” he admitted with a hint of pink coloring his cheeks and a bit of a grin on his lips.

“I imagine that will take a little getting used to,” his father interjected.

“A bit,” he admitted. “But now that I’m over the initial shock, I’m anxious to build a relationship with her.”

“Are you?” his mother wondered. “Over the initial shock, I mean.”

“That’s a fair question. I think, with everything I’ve been through in the last eight years, I’ve learned to be more adaptable and accepting. It would be foolish to say that I’ve totally absorbed what all of this means to me, but I’m committed to creating what I want and need in my life. She’s part of that.”

“Which ‘she?’” Lucius goaded him.

“Fair enough, Father. Both of them. But you both need to recognize that I have no intention of ‘using’ one to boost my relationship with the other. If developing those relationships happens to have that end, fine. But I will not manipulate either of them. There’s been way too much of that going on and I won’t be a party to it.”

Narcissa had the good grace to appear mildly chagrined, while Lucius clearly thought his son had lost his marbles. “Well, I’d say that ‘manipulate’ is probably too strong a word, but to deny that the relationship between the three of you is completely interdependent is just ludicrous.”

“Of course it is! But I won’t screw with my daughter’s head or with Hermione’s. Not purposely. It’s taken me three years to get to a point where I understand who I am and what I want out of life. Having a plan is not the same thing as having a scheme. I think I know what I need to do, and regardless of your enthusiasm to ‘help’ me, I need to do it my own way. I’ll listen to your insights, Father, but I won’t allow you to do something that will undermine any of the three of us.” Draco’s frustration was evident. His protectiveness was also very telling; he’d claimed Louisa and Hermione as his to guard from harm of any sort. The pride on his mother’s face couldn’t have been plainer.

“Of course, Draco. We’ll honor your wishes,” she said. When Lucius opened his mouth to add his two Knuts’ worth, she glared at him, staying his comments better than a Silencio ever could.

They finished the meal in silence, Lucius reading over the morning edition of the now-reestablished Daily Prophet and Narcissa sipping her tea. Not more than ten minutes had passed, but Draco was ready to be elsewhere – anywhere – and turned to Louisa once more, noting that her breakfast was finished. He took the damp cloth that Hermione had left near Louisa’s plate and gently cleaned the little girl’s face and hands.

“All clean, Papa Drake!” she confirmed. “Outside now?”

“That’s a fabulous idea, Louisa,” he agreed, lifting her out of her chair and hugging her close for a moment. She began squirming, so he took her cue and set her on the floor so she could walk on her own power, although he didn’t release her hand. He addressed his parents briefly. “We’ll be in the gardens for about an hour, then I assume she still has a morning nap?” His mother confirmed his guess with a nod. “Fine. I’ll read her a story when I put her down, then I have a number of calls to make and an errand or two to run. Don’t expect me for lunch.” With that, he guided the child out of the dining room and toward the rear of the wing where they would access the patio and garden entrance.

“That didn’t take long,” Lucius observed.

“What do you mean?”

“He’ll take no convincing at all. He’s already there.”

“No doubt.”

“She, however, will be a very different story, I fear,” the wizard opined.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Draco and his daughter had been wandering in the gardens for nearly an hour and a half, enjoying the unusually mild early spring weather. It had only taken twenty minutes, however, before the tot had been too tired to keep up with her father’s long strides. He, not accustomed to strolling with such a little one, was quickly chagrined at his thoughtlessness and had invited his daughter to ride on his shoulders. More than an hour later, she was still happily perched there, her hands alternating between hanging on to his ears, his hair, his neck and even his cheeks, despite his tight grip on her knees. Draco was amused and did not complain, even when her grasp was contributing to him losing his own blond locks even more quickly than nature was already dictating.

Their chatter was not deep or terribly emotional; she prattled on in her charming combination of English, French, and baby talk about flowers and butterflies and birds. Draco listened intently, absorbing everything he could about this girl who would now be central to his life. His own speaking was to answer her questions, ask some of his own, and point out things that had been special to him when he was a child. It was clear now that she was starting to get sleepy. She had rested her head on the crown of his and her responses were limited to hums and single words. Nap time had arrived.

Lifting her off his shoulders, Draco cradled Louisa against his chest and brought her back inside to her nursery. He settled her in bed and picked up the book she cradled in her arms the previous evening. He was unfamiliar with this one and concluded it was probably by a Muggle author. “Goodnight Moon?” he offered as she was obviously fighting to stay awake.

“Yes, Papa Drake,” she whispered.

Draco began to read from the book by Margaret Wise Brown …

“In the great green room, there is a telephone and a red balloon, and a picture of

The cow jumping over the moon

And there were three little bears sitting on chairs

And two little kittens and a pair of mittens

And a little toy house and a toy mouse

And a comb and a brush and bowl full of mush

And a quiet old lady who was whispering "hush".
Goodnight room

Goodnight moon

Goodnight cow jumping over the moon

Goodnight light and the red balloon

Goodnight bears, goodnight chairs

Goodnight kittens and goodnight mittens

Goodnight clocks and goodnight socks,” he said, glancing up at that point to find that she was fast asleep. He closed the book, kissed her forehead and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

As much as he would have liked to spend the whole morning just watching her sleep, Draco had things to do. He pulled the folded parchment from his pocket and reviewed the items on his list. There really was a lot to get done. Since his own room didn’t have a Floo connection, he’d have to use the one in his father’s study for now, bringing to mind just one more reason to be out on his own. He’d rather not have to worry about his private business being co-opted or snooped upon by his parents, no matter how well-intentioned they believed they were. He knocked on the closed door and waited for his father to admit him.

When the door opened, he saw that his mother was seated in one of the leather armchairs beside the fireplace; they’d obviously been chatting in here for a while, if the empty tea cups were any indication. He’d have to gently kick both of them out.

“What can I do for you, Draco?” Lucius inquired.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d like to use your Floo connection to make a number of calls,” he replied, hoping that would be a sufficient hint that he wanted some privacy.

“By all means,” his father offered, waving the young man into the study but not making a move to vacate the premises. Apparently, it was going to take more than an outrageously subtle hint.

“Father, I hate to be rude, but I really would like some privacy. Would you…?” he trailed off, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually make his request that blatant. It was, after all, his father’s private domain.

As thick as Lucius could be in some circumstances, it was obvious that his mother had already figured out what Draco needed and had risen from her chair, tea cup in hand. She was approaching them at a rapid clip now.

“Come, Lucius, I want to discuss some changes to the gardens and orchards with you. We need to go outside to do that,” she told him pointedly.

Draco was grateful enough to want to hug the woman, but figured that would just encourage her further. He settled for a brisk nod and a warm smile. “Thank you, Mother,” he whispered as she passed by.

She winked at him, tugging a reluctant Lucius along as she left the room and closed the door. It only took him another few seconds to unfold the piece of parchment and review what he’d written once again.

File paternity claim with Ministry

Compose press release for Hermione’s approval

Family solicitor – make Will providing for Louisa and Hermione, examine Father’s filings, ask about “association” and familial rights and/or obligations.

Effect of marriage or additional children

Move my things to townhouse

Refurbish room for Louisa and Hermione

Visit Gringotts for an account review

He decided that he needed to contact the family solicitor first, as what he learned from him would dictate many of his subsequent actions. He would need to start with calling Barrister Marcus Phillips, who had represented him at his trial and had remained his liaison throughout his exile, as a first step. The man was undoubtedly loyal to his father and was probably up to his neck in whatever Lucius and Narcissa had plotted, but he would certainly know exactly what had and hadn’t been done.

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, Draco tossed it into the flames and waited the few seconds until the green flickering indicated an open communication line. “Barrister Marcus Phillips’ office,” Draco enunciated clearly.

A secretary answered, requesting the identity of the caller and purpose of the call.

“Draco Malfoy here, and I wish to speak with Barrister Phillips about some estate issues.”

“Hold, please,” the assistant responded.

Less than a minute passed before the solicitor’s face appeared in the Malfoys’ fireplace. “Draco! I take it you’ve arrived safely back in Wiltshire? How can I help you?”

“I wonder if I could have an appointment in the next few days to talk about some new developments in my estate needs. I’m sure you’re aware of the existence of my daughter,” he stated, trying to keep any accusatory tone out of his voice.

“Yes, Draco, I do know about Louisa. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t able to discuss it with you, but I was sworn by client privilege,” he explained, only slightly contrite in his expression. “But now that you know, I am free to discuss anything at all about her and your relationship to her. I’m not terribly busy right now. Why don’t you come through and we’ll talk about everything on your mind?” he invited.

Draco felt certain that they wouldn’t have time to discuss all the things he was dealing with, but they could absolutely get a good running start. “Fine. I’ll be through in just a moment,” he agreed.

Leaving a quickly scribbled note on his father’s desk, Draco stepped through the open Floo connection into the lobby of Phillips, Benjarvis, Green, and Ellis, Esquires and Solicitors at Law. He was greeted immediately and escorted to Mr. Phillips’ office, where the elder wizard gave him a hearty handshake and offered a seat.

“Thank you for seeing me with no notice. I know how busy you are,” Draco noted.

“It’s my pleasure,” he responded with a dismissive wave. “I’d guess you have many questions.”

“I do. I prepared a list of issues that need to be addressed,” he stated, pulling the parchment out of the pocket where he’d temporarily stashed it; it wouldn’t do to have the thing go up in flames accidentally. “The first thing I want to know about is my paternity claim and rights. My father said that he had filed a claim on my behalf with the Ministry and had Louisa named as my rightful heir. What more do I need to do to ensure her rights and mine?”

“Technically, nothing. What your father did was sufficient in the eyes of the law to secure her rights to the Malfoy estate and to give you rights over making decisions for her while she’s still a minor child. You can, if you wish, file a supplementary claim that affirms his prior action. It will have no real legal effect other than to serve as your acknowledgement and agreement of her position and your mutual rights.”

“Would it become part of the public record?” Draco wondered.

“Yes, it would. There would be a supplementary notice published in the Daily Prophet and a notation made to the family estate file at the Ministry that you approve and support the decision. There would be one small additional change, come to think of it,” the solicitor noted with a pause.

“And that would be….” Draco prompted.

“It would change final financial responsibility for Louisa from the Malfoy estate to you personally.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I expected that to be the case.”

“It would have no effect on any currently existing gifts, trusts, bequests and properties that have been placed in her name. Those are established in duro and cannot be removed, though they can be augmented.”

“What does in duro mean?” Draco asked.

“Just legal jargon for something ‘durable’ and fundamentally permanent. It’s often done to protect the interests of minor children or people who cannot otherwise speak for themselves. In this case, your father asked for that provision so that no one and nothing could ever remove Louisa’s assets.”

“I have no argument with any of that, but I do want to file my own paternity claim as soon as possible. I want it part of the public record that I acknowledge and accept my daughter.”

“I’ll have the papers drawn up for your signature today.”

“Thank you.”

“What else do you need?” Phillips prodded.

“I want to draw up a will to provide for Louisa in the case of my death. I assume that I have the right to distribute any of my assets and properties as I see fit?” he asked for confirmation.

“Absolutely. The only things you cannot change are things that are held in trust for you, as you do not have control of them until you reach age thirty. Other than that, you may do as you wish.”

“Good. Then I want my entire estate to be given to Louisa upon my death, to be administered and executed by her mother, Hermione Granger, if I die before she reaches the age of majority,” he stated firmly.

“You understand that by naming Miss Granger as Administrator and Executrix, she has full and total control over your assets upon your death, whether or not Louisa is no longer a minor child. It would be up to her to decide what Louisa gets and when, unless your will specifies something different,” he counseled.

“I understand. That’s fine; I trust Hermione to do what’s right for Louisa.”

The solicitor paused for a moment, apparently weighing how to bring up a sensitive topic. “Since you seem to have no issue with Miss Granger controlling your estate proceeds, is it your intention to provide for her as well?”

“Well, I had a few questions about that, actually. I know my father has set up a trust fund for her and given her some property, but I don’t know the extent of those holdings. Also, since we aren’t married, I wasn’t sure if there was a problem with me naming her as an heir in my bequests. There’s another matter related to that which I don’t understand, and I need your guidance.”

Draco noted that the man’s expression became blank. It was as he suspected; there was something more to the story. He heard Phillips’ reply, “I’ll tell you what I can.” So, he thought, he’s under an Unbreakable Vow. I’ll need to be very specific and deliberate in the questions I ask.

“My father mentioned something about an ‘association’ between myself and Hermione. Does that mean we are legally bound?”

“No.”

“Does it mean that we are married?”

“No.”

“Does it mean that she is my legal responsibility?”

“Not technically.”

“In what way is she legally tied to me?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“Do you not know, or are you unable to tell me?”

“No.”

An ambiguous answer, Draco thought, to my ambiguous question. “If I guess what it means, can you tell me if I’m correct?”

“No.”

“Am I correct in assuming that only my father can do that?”

“Yes.”

“But it does mean something.”

“Yes.”

Draco sighed deeply. He’d hoped that the man could clear up that mystery for him but his father had seen to it that it would not be simple.

Since Draco’s frustration was plain, the elder man seemed to take pity on him. “There are a couple of things I can tell you if I know some additional things from you. Would you answer a few questions if it will mean that I can provide… guidance?”

“Absolutely. What do you need to know?” Draco eagerly offered.

“What is your intention or wish with regard to your relationship with Miss Granger?”

“That’s a pretty personal question, Mr. Phillips. If I tell you, are you bound by client privilege to me?”

“Yes, if you wish.”

“Will that create any conflict between agreements with my father and those with me?”

“Not necessarily, and I can… navigate them as needed,” he assured the young man.

“My wish is that we’d have a lasting relationship that would allow us to raise our daughter together.”

“Is that all?”

“No.”

“I see.”

“And?”

“You will not be displeased by anything your father has… set in motion.”

“Should I take that to mean that whatever he’s done has loopholes, or is not yet final?”

“You could.”

“Should I also take it to mean that Miss Granger might not be quite as happy about it as I would?”

“Since I do not really know her, I couldn’t possibly answer that question with any insight or accuracy.”

“If whatever he’s ‘set in motion’ is fully executed, would it change my fundamental legal status in any way?”

“Yes.”

Draco’s thoughts were churning. He had a suspicion or two, but there was no way he’d get a final answer from his solicitor today. He doubted that consulting with anyone else would help; his father was well known for both covering his tracks and being inconceivably creative in his schemes and machinations. It might very well be a one-of-a-kind arrangement that would have no precedent in Wizarding law.

“In light of that, I have another question,” Draco began.

“Of course, ask away.”

“What would happen if Hermione married someone else?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“I… can’t say.”

“What would happen if I married someone else?”

“Again, it depends.”

Draco raised his hand in acknowledgement. “I know – you can’t say.” He huffed in annoyance. “How am I to continue with my life if all these things are left to interpretation?”

Phillips squared his shoulders and looked the younger man in the eye. “Draco, the best advice I can give you is to follow your heart. Do what you think is right for you, your daughter, and her mother. The rest will work itself out. Whatever your father has done, while it’s undoubtedly meddling, will not prevent you from making your own decisions and choices. You should, however, press him to reveal his actions to you; it’s only right and fair. I can’t say more than that, but know that once you are privy to what he’s done, there’s much more that I can do to help you.”

“And if I happen to be in agreement with what he’s done?”

“Then, we allow things to follow their natural course and there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“What if I’m opposed to it?”

The man’s expression became less somber, and his eyes brightened. “Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem, but if it is, there are things I can do to… change the outcome, should it be required.”

Draco’s frustration was real, but not unanticipated. He knew beyond a doubt that his father’s hand was in his business. It was now clear and undeniable that he’d done something that set up some kind of legal link between him and Hermione. There was also no question that the solicitor would not be able to reveal anything more until his father finally confessed whatever he’d done. Draco would either need to get his hands on whatever paperwork had been filed, using a Wizengamot order if necessary, or get the man to spill the beans on his own. The fact that the only people with knowledge of the deed kept assuring him that he’d not be displeased with the results was not in the least bit comforting. While they were seeking to make his life better with their meddling, they might very well be ruining any real chance that he had to build the life that he wanted, however well-intentioned they may have been. Somehow, some way, he’d get to the bottom of this, soon.

In the meantime, Draco recognized that he was just wasting his own time and Mr. Phillips’. Their business was fundamentally concluded, at least for now. “Thank you, Sir, for everything you’ve shared with me today. I promise that I will be digging in to find what I need, but it’s clear that you’ve done all you can for now. If you would be so kind as to draw up the supplemental paternity claim for me, and a draft of my will, I’d like to get those signed and filed in the next couple of days.”

“I’d be happy to do that, Draco, but you’ve not answered one question that needs to be settled before I can do that for you.”

“Refresh my memory, if you would.”

“The issue of Miss Granger. How would you like her treated in your bequests?”

Draco paused and thought for about ten seconds before firmly meeting the elder man’s gaze. “Treat her as befitting the mother of the heir to the Malfoy fortune,” he replied with a sharp nod.

The young man rose, extended his hand in farewell, and exited the office, leaving the solicitor a little dumbfounded and feeling a great deal more respect for his client than he’d had an hour earlier.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Draco’s next destination, Gringotts, was a significantly more straightforward venture. Upon entry, he’d presented the key to his personal vault and requested the services of a private banker to review his accounts. It had taken nearly two hours, but he had a very clear picture of his finances. He, upon his release, had been allowed access to the inheritance from his grandparents and the two trust funds that had been available to him throughout his life. Another three accounts would be available when he reached age thirty or married, whichever came first.

He’d never have to work a day in his life, if he so chose, but the young man he’d become felt the need and desire to do something productive. The myriad lessons he’d learned in Salem would not go to waste. The discussion with his banker had included a sketch of the idea he’d had during his late-night discussion with David Roy. While the goblin couldn’t quite comprehend the idea of what “not-for-profit” really meant, he couldn’t deny that the wizard’s plan was well-outlined and would likely achieve the goals he’d enumerated.

He left the bank feeling that he’d made some progress, and glanced at his antique pocket watch to find the time was approaching five o’clock. If he wanted to meet Hermione as they’d agreed, he’d need to head back to the Manor now. He made his way to the Apparition Point at the end of the block, whistling tunelessly, and disappeared with a barely-heard pop.
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Consequences and Complexities