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Notes: The Re-establishment of Endangered Species	By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 5048 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from anything in the Harry Potter universe -- stories, characters, settings, prior art.

Chapter List
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At 39
“Don’t succumb to despair if, despite your best efforts, a species slips into non-existence. Nature often fools us — planting a small, hidden colony that holds its own against the odds. If you discover that there are survivors, do what’s best: if they are thriving, leave them in the habitat; if not, relocate them to a competent creature preserve with all deliberate haste. Don’t waste the precious gift of a second chance.” — The Bureaucrat’s Guide to the Rehabilitation and Re-establishment of Endangered Species page 327
As far as the two grown men (who argued like their adolescent selves) were concerned, they were far from being overheard by any they cared for — and were screaming at each other yet again.

“This is the THIRD time you’ve INTERFERED and DESTROYED her calm in this house — AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT AGAIN!!!” the Master of the Manor thundered.

The portraits observing this extended edition of “Mine’s Bigger!” flinched at the sheer power and rancor in his tone in this place.

“Look, Malfoy, I accept that you’ve been friends — close friends — since uni —”
“Hog-warts. Our relationship began at Hogwarts.”

The aristocrat's near-sighted rival used his slipping eyepieces as a distraction to process that new and unsettling correction.

“Fine. Hogwarts. Right now she needs to be with family.”

Astoria, sitting placidly in her largest portrait (strategically placed facing Draco’s favorite spot for rows, debates and tantrums), shifted audibly to distract her widower husband away from thoughts of murder.

“And she will be. Rose and Hugo will stay with her,” the heated host explained. “Until I noticed your head deeply planted up your ARSE, it was my intent to invite Albus as well. Just Scorpius and Rose Cedrella together tend to lead to St.Mungo’s A&E visits.”

The shouting calmed with the sigh relinquished by the more peaceable of the two.

“Give me a good reason,” the shorter man challenged, as he slipped his trademark spectacles on, “why you’re better at this than Ginny and me — us, her family by being there for her every day for thirty years.”
“Because,” the portrait behind Harry began, stunning the Head Auror into abrupt silence, “she’s had family here for nearly as long, Mr. Potter. Draco, Scorpius and I are also related to Hermione by marriage. But we were — are — family by choice. There’s not a fortnight she’s spent in England since Hogwarts when she hasn’t spent time with Draco or myself. For over two decades…”

With Ron’s death, a small cache of secrets broke open to reveal what had been hidden…

The ginger had been tending the till at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes — and sleeping there many nights since Hugo left for school — when the past broke into the present and slaughtered the future…
Jugson, the blood purist responsible for George’s unremitting singularity, came to finish off the set and found Ron instead. Slowed by a lazy but gentle nature, Hermione’s husband now slumbered in the Burrow family plot; Fred no longer dreamt alone.
The murderer regained his freedom — only the week before — under the Minister’s innovative “Compassionate Pardons” initiative, keeping her campaign promise to close the barbaric prison — Azkaban — forever…
The Man-Who-Lost-His-Best-Mate took the measure of the Lord-Who-Loved-a-Muggle-born.

“Potter, with all due respect… you’ve never buried a spouse.” The widower’s pained gaze found Astoria’s painted one. “Never had to deal with that empty side of the bed, the scent on the pillows you refuse to launder, the clothes you seal in the closet to keep alive the memory of their wearing — or the grief you swallow, to your own detriment, to shoulder on for your children.” With effort, Draco once again peered unapologetically at Harry. “Until your harassment today, Hermione hadn’t shed a tear in over a week. The woman who cries during every Sorting Ceremony…”

The situation remained fraught with traps sown from the secrets Draco knew and Harry didn’t.
Despite misgivings, Hermione’s oldest magical friend surrendered for her sake — “Your plan?”

“McGonagal’s agreed to let the children finish school here; the offer’s open to Albus Severus as well. I’ve retained Professors Patil, Chang, Qureshi and Mind Healer Lovegood-Longbottom to get them through their remaining classwork and exams.”

Harry stood silently, never letting on his astonishment at the detail in Draco’s “manage-Hermione’s-grief” plan.

“She’s taking a leave of absence until late next summer sometime; Kingsley’s stepping in. I acquired four Abraxan horses a while back, three mares and a stallion. The mares foaled recently; they require hands-on care until they can fly. She and Rose adore them.”

Harry’d had no knowledge of this “secret” infatuation, given Hermione’s fear of anything that flew.

“It’s the best therapy I can think of…”

Draco’s voiced trailed off in fear that his efforts — to care for those he loved — would prove inadequate yet again.

“She loves the preserve…”

Harry nodded, still unsure of why Hermione belonged here — until Draco’s poignant explanation:

“She blames herself, Potter…”

“You do her a disservice, Lioness. You will LOSE that child to her unspoken grief. She should know.”
“That I married her father to give her a name because I COULDN’T give her the one she deserved!? That I celebrated that Imbolc with YOU!? THAT-THAT-THAT I MUCKED UP that CONTRACEPTION SPELL with WISH MAGIC on a Druid HOLY DAY because I was JEALOUS that Astoria carried your heir and NOT ME!?”

With a quick tug, Draco yanked the frantic witch down and into his lap on the well-used seating in his study.

“Kitten, she’s a ‘Daddy’s girl’ without a father. I’m a poor substitute — whatever the ginger git’s other faults, he raised our daughter well — but I’m HERE when he can’t be.”

The distraught mother surged away from Draco’s comfort. unable to clear her head and deal with this disaster in her usually efficient manner. He’s right, she thought in grievous realization, our baby is suffering…

“Rose will NEVER speak to me again, Draco! It’s not as if Ron and I had a marriage like you and Astoria; she’s seen us at our worst! No matter the truth, she’ll blame me for cheating on her father!”

Draco yanked the panicked witch back down and into his lap a second time in as many minutes.

“You underestimate the daughter of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Rose Cedrella has known me all her life. She and Scorpius have had the run of this place since she taught herself to stand to pull her books down from the shelves in my study. It will be a shock, but she WILL come around.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
“You have to trust her.”
“I can’t…” she panted, well on her way to hyperventilating. “I can’t lose her, Dragon!”

The doors’ sudden movement arrested the attention of the occupants and the portraits as an annoyed adolescent stormed into the room, every bit a Malfoy.

“Mother,” Scorpius acknowledged to Astoria’s painting before pivoting to confront his father and his “aunt”. “First, thank you for providing me a sibling. Never much enjoyed ‘only heir’ status. Ruined my courtship plans, though.”

The widow and widower froze as what had been concealed leapt beyond their containment.

“Wondering how I know?” he asked rhetorically, every bit as snide as Draco at that age. “You two are aware that the silencing wards only work on non-Malfoys. Rose and I were eavesdropping on your yelling when your confession came bloody booming out of the study. Rose —”
“Where is she?!?” Hermione shrieked at the young man. “WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!?”
“She’s in the preserve, Aunt Hermione…”

His answer jolted her towards the full-glass terrace doors that would lead to a collision with the unbridled truth.

“LIONESS,” her consummate love called out. “Let me. This behaviour by our Rose is all ‘Malfoy’.”
Astoria concurred — “Quite right, my love. Classic Malfoy temper — with a bit of Granger stubbornness for good measure.”

Smiling his love at the portrait, Draco danced Hermione towards Scorpius, steadily reversing her forward momentum.

“I believe,” Lord Malfoy observed aloud as he exited, “you two have things to discuss.”

The boy and the woman held each other — one in welcome and the other in desperation.

“I’ve suspected for a while…”

Hermione leaned back agonizingly to take in yet another stunner — moving as if suddenly beset by rheumatism.

“Mum explained. We were working in the preserve. Rose had those tattered Muggle short trousers on. Saw her Malfoy birthmark and those very nice legs.” The boy grinned up at the portrait. “Mum said we’re family. Certainly argue like family,” the boy chuckled.

Hermione knew the shape and texture of those “Certified Malfoy” logos: she effectively lived with Draco during uni and had changed countless diapers for both children at the Manor.

“You were right…” the widow tearfully admitted, her gaze over Scorp’s broadening shoulders catching that from Astoria’s smugly smiling portrait.

Draco found his daughter where instinct pointed unerringly: the air-chilled Abraxans’ stables. Summer’s heat settled in early and took residence across Wiltshire. Like all blood Malfoys, Rose runs hot.

“Do you plan to sulk out here forever?”

Her small hands (inherited from Granger, a realization that brought a half-smile), soothed the filly’s pitch black star blaze, set mid-forehead on her silver-gray coat. Rose hand-reared this little one after it’s struggle to leave its mother’s womb. The poor mare had not survived; one child of loss parenting another.

Draco took a seat just inside her field of vision; she might choose not to look at him but she’d damn sure see him.

He prodded again — “Not into arguing today?”
“YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER!!!”

Her words failed to penetrate anywhere vital; he’d lived the truth for far longer than she.

“I beg to differ.”
“You SHAGGED my MOTHER while you were MARRIED to AUNT TORY!”

Draco pointedly stared, absorbing her hostility like an overzealous suntan.

“You are under the misapprehension that your aunt was unaware of who attended that Imbolc with me. Astoria was pregnant. Absent that curse, I would have quite enjoyed a celebratory romp with my expectant wife. That pleasure was, unfortunately, forbidden me; her frailty kept me from her. I wouldn’t risk her or Scorpius…”

He held to his silence for a moment then went on.

“Imbolc celebrates the coming renewal in the Druid calendar, when the Earth and its creatures are most fertile. I’m sure I don’t have to provide graphic descriptions of what that means?”

He raised an eyebrow — calling Rose’s bluff with her newly acquired adolescent sophistication regarding sex.

“Please don’t,” she snapped, her complexion now pallid.
“I worked through my frustration and my fear — that the curse and the pregnancy would take my wife and my heir from me — with the only other woman I’ve ever loved. I was furious with Astoria for allowing herself to conceive; we’d been so very careful and then —”
“So she got pregnant without you?”

— and to her surprise, Draco laughed unguardedly.

“I thought myself free of ‘feminist’ folderol when your mother graduated uni and left our group, but I seem to have sired her clone.”

Near doubled over, he smeared the heels of his hands across his eyes to rid them of humor’s tears.

“No, no… we were partners in all things, Astoria and I, except that decision. Introducing your aunt to your mother might’n't have been my most brilliant notion. Pure-blood wives are seldom as independent as your aunt became; I blame your mother.
“Had I been in my right mind — not angry with Astoria nor desperate for something normal in my life — I’d have considered the consequences of taking a woman I still adore to a fertility festival. Your conception was ordained by my stupidity.”
“Are you shagging Mum?”
“Not your concern, sweetheart.”

That meant “YES!” in her teenage brain.

Then the quiet ignited — “Mum CHEATED on Dad!!!”

She’s pushing back, Draco noted with pride. Good; time to clear out the rot…

“She did NOT. Your parents hadn’t courted in over a year — your father was engaged in a torrid affaire with Lavender Brown MacLaggen. Check the Prophet archives if you doubt me. What your mother DID was establish an intimate relationship with your father, MARRY him and ensure you had the name and home I should have provided.”

The Malfoy in Rose reasserted itself.

“I have red hair!” she screeched. “Every Malfoy in those ridiculous portraits is BLONDE!!”
“Permanent alteration. Your mother’s patented Polyjuice Potion. Kept you — I believe she calls it ‘strawberry blonde’ , closer to ‘Weasley red’. Your curls were headed for a lovely shade of ‘Malfoy saffron’.”
“FIRST she LIES, THEN she POISONS her BABY to cover up her LIES!?” Rose barked in disgust. “Delphini was right; Mother’s another VOLDEMORT!!!”

That name had no sooner left the child’s lips than her biological father rushed forward, hands locking painfully onto the girl’s slender arms, and shook Rose once — hard.

“Don’t EVER speak of your mother that way! You know NOTHING of her sacrifices for ALL of us!”
“How could Dad be so STUPID?!?”
“Rose Cedrella…” Lord Malfoy soughed, sympathetically, towards the child struggling with her new familial reality.

Slow breaths, as he released his grip on her, brought a tender tone to his correction — “Ronald Weasley LOVED you and your brother. Much though he and I disagreed on almost everything, you’ve had a wonderful life — thanks to him and the woman who forfeited her own happiness for yours.”

His heart near broke at the child’s agony but he forced himself to finish and refrain from comforting her.

“Your issue’s not with your father nor your mother, luv.”

Draco regained his perch on the trunk. Artemis nickered, prodding Rose to rub harder.

“Promise me you will never sell Artemis,” she demanded.

Artemis isn’t the subject here…

“She’s family — part of the burgeoning horde of layabouts around here. I’m certain we’ll both choose to do what’s best for her.”

He watched his daughter wrestle with her painfully shattered reality. Rustling sounds gave away his graceful movements to roll up his sleeves in preparation to give the answer she hadn’t yet demanded —

“Why didn’t you marry her? Did you even WANT me?”
“Simple answer? I’m a coward; always have been. Your mother understands that. The world wasn’t ready for your mother and me… together. It was a dangerous time, Rose; I’d have gone to Azkaban for years and you’d’ve only been safe in the Manor — you and your mother trapped here because of me... Astoria’s love and wealth kept me sane and out of prison. I… That’s not the life I wanted for either of you… And for the record, I cherish you ALL — though I will admit,” he laughed lightly, “you and Scorpius were both unexpected miracles.”
She sighed — “What happens now?” — as exhaustion set in. Her booted toe absently scraped an ouroboros, the perpetual snake, into the dirt floor.
“See to your charge. Artemis should be ridden and flown; you’ve done neither despite her rather impressive wing span for a yearling. You’ll need to teach her those things her mother can’t. Your brothers have been covering for you — incompetently, I would add.”
“Brothers…” Rose muttered dejectedly.

She met his gaze with an inscrutable expression. Malfoy arched eyebrow mirrored Malfoy arched eyebrow.

“Come.” Draco rose from his seat on the tack trunk. “You owe your mother an apology.”

His daughter’s movement in his direction stopped abruptly.

“She’s not innocent in this,” Rose protested, as righteously obstinate as Hermione.
“She never lied to him, luv. She never told him and it never occurred to him to question your parentage. Apologize to her.”

“No.”

Draco stood his ground. Artemis whinnied in support of Rose’s objection.

“A-POL-ogize, Rose Cedrella.”

Hands on burgeoning hips, Rose stood her ground — “NO.”

TWO stubborn Granger women in my life… Pleasure came with the freedom to claim both completely.

“Apologize — and MEAN it — and I’ll buy that pegasus saddle you’ve been drooling over for Artemis.”

The blue in her stare shifted to grey when Rose got contemplative; Astoria remarked on it on more than one occasion during the child’s many visits to the Manor. Grudgingly, she surrendered, unused to and uncomfortable with being at odds with her mother.

“I don’t want the saddle… Mum should have told us. Dad would have forgiven her…”
“Come, luv,” he offered, wordlessly disputing her assertion —
— when the dam broke.
“I miss my daddy…”

He turned and held the girl as a daughter for the first time, savoring the sensation of having Rose entirely as his own. His shirt stuck to his chest where she sobbed.

“Your mother plans to expand this menagerie of freeloading parasites she forced on me. Scorpius mentioned you begging her for crup puppies?”

Rose snugged him tighter, desperate for a father’s affection.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Crups will make a good addition — they’re intelligent and aggressive. Good around Abraxans. Hugo prefers a three-headed dog; I, however, draw the line at being eaten by the family ‘pet’.”

Huffing a small laugh, she posed an observation, leaning back to gain her biological father’s full attention.

“I know nothing about you, do I? Or Mum. I suppose that means I know nothing of myself… I’m… I’m not ready for any soppy ‘father-daughter’ bonding, alright? If I want to know something, I’ll come to you — not the other way ‘round. Not feeling ready to let Mum off the hook either.”

Embracing her shoulders, Draco steered his baby girl towards her mother and the beginnings of reconciliation.

“There are advantages to being a Malfoy, Rose.”
“Yeah — a great excuse not to date Scorp, for one…”
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Notes: The Re-establishment of Endangered Species