My Son

Chapter1:

Draco had just come home from work. He took off his coat and dropped it on a chair. A house elf would pick him up and put him in his place. It was the role of this funny little creature. A job much easier than his.

Draco sat on an armchair and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. From where he was sitting, he saw his 25-year-old reflection in a mirror on the other side of the room. Tired of his day's work, he closed his eyes to try to forget the pain he saw every day.

He thought back to what had happened the night he had not killed Dumbledore at the words of the old wizard. If he had accepted his help that day, everything would be different. Harry may still be alive and the pain may be backing away. He would not have to heal the wounds of members of the Order of the Phoenix. The latter, captured by the Dark Lord, were subjected to intense torture. He questioned them but they answered nothing. When they came out, Draco was healing them. It was not his choice, but that of his master. He had not succeeded in his first mission and after some painful spells, his master had forgiven him and entrusted to him the care of his prisoners. Draco avoided anger and obeyed him. He glanced at his tattoo.

He took a sip of his glass and tried to change his thoughts. Daphne would be home soon, and they would both be spending the evening. Draco did not particularly like his wife, a daughter of a death eater friend of his father. He had no choice either but their marriage was going well. They often talked and avoided arguing. His wife was more a friend than a lover. Draco guessed that she felt the same way, yet they never spoke about it. The woman Draco loved, he had lost many years before, without even knowing what he felt for her.

- Sir, a person has just come to the door, she would like to talk to you.

Draco had not heard the bell or the little step of his elf when she entered the living room.

- Let her in

Draco did not even have time to wonder who could come to disturb him at this hour. Hermione Granger had just appeared in the doorway. He thought of her and she was materializing in her living room. He hid his surprise.

- Malfoy

- Miss Granger

His voice was cold, hard. He got up to grab his wand. She was his enemy all the same. He interrupted when he noticed that Hermione was holding a heavy bundle in her arms. With a nod he invited her to sit down, which she did in silence.

He watched her for a moment. It had been 7 years since he had not seen it but it had not changed. Long wavy hair framed her face. Her Gryffindor coat was falling on her feet, still far too big for her. His eyes, on the other hand, had changed. It betrayed the painful years that the witch could have lived before arriving here. Draco was not really happy to see her. He loved her more than anything, but she was going to trouble him. He felt it. And even if his own life did not matter to him, he had to protect Daphne's.

- I need your help Draco.

- What can I do for you, Granger?

Hermione looked down at her package and the face of a baby appeared. Hermione had a son. The mere thought of imagining this witch in the arms of another man made him suffer. He felt a ball form against his heart.

- I would like you to take care of him.

Draco showed nothing of his feelings. He got up and approached his visitors. He was attracted by the gaze of this little boy who was watching him twinkling. He kept a hard voice to keep a distance from them, not to make Hermione believe he was going to accept.

- Why would I do that?

- Because you will win this war and I will die.

Hermione's voice was soft, it was no longer that of a model student but of a mother who was suffering and worried about her child.

- I repeat, why would I do that? Why would I help a mudblood?

- Because I know, that even if you hide it well, you have a Draco heart ...

She got up and placed her son in the arms of Draco who accepted him with a grimace. When his eyes fell on the little boy's little fingers, he could not repress a smile. He did not see that next to him Hermione was smiling too. The smile of his worst enemy for his son was the confirmation that he was a good father.

- Why me ?

- Because you have a heart, because his father is pureblood ... and in this world, your camp will be victorious and your son will be able to live happily, while mine will be killed.

Draco looked up at Hermione. Tears were forming on the face of this young mother. She approached her former classmate. She smiled at her son and kissed him. Her gaze hung next to that of the man to whom she confided. She gave him a shy smile that meant thank you very much and took good care of him. Draco held out his hand to the cheek of this beautiful woman to erase the crying. She let him do it then turned around.

When she walked in the door, Draco heard her crying again but let her go. How could he have kept her? And even if she had agreed to stay, how could he protect her?

He pressed everything against him, the child whose responsibility she had entrusted to him. He promised to love him as his own son, to make him happy. Because that's what she asked him and he wanted to be up to her. He did not want her to regret having trusted him.

And yes, Draco has a heart, I never doubted it. I think he was very well hidden and his owner does not listen very much, but I know he is there, ready to work.