"I overcame myself, the sufferer;

I carried my own ashes to the mountains;

I invented a brighter flame from myself."

— Friedrich Nietzsche

It seemed like just yesterday Hermione had first laid eyes on a round little face with silver eyes staring at her, shy and curious, peeking out from his father's chest. And in a blink of an eye, the little boy — who would always be little to her — was a little bit taller, with a little more teeth. From across the kitchen table, Hermione watched fondly as Scorpius buzzed with energy. He stood on the kitchen chair, excitedly trying to follow along the clapping and singing around him.

"Make a wish," Draco murmured in Scorpius' ear. Scorpius' eyes twinkled in the faint glare of the single candle flame.

The little boy screwed his eyes shut tightly, a wide toothy grin on his face before opening them again. His gaze flickered towards Hermione then his father before he blew out the candle on his green dragon cake. The small kitchen erupted in cheers.

Hermione rounded the table, giving Scorpius a squeeze. "Happy Birthday, Scorp!"

"Cheers," Blaise smiled, putting his arm around Pansy. Luna clapped while Theo flicked his wand, shooting colored confetti in the air. Watson grumbled when it showered over his face, but slow-clapped nonetheless.

Scorpius bounced on the chair and poked his finger into the cake, quicker than Draco's reflexes. Daringly, he put the little finger covered in green frosting inside his mouth, smiling all the while at his father's reprimanding look.

It was a small affair with Theo, Luna, the Zabinis, and an impish Watson. Despite everything going on, Hermione had wanted Scorpius to have a normal birthday party — albeit in a rundown safehouse and a quickly put together cake. She had only found out about the occasion a day prior when she had caught Draco in the kitchen, glaring at an old baking recipe book. Silently, she had taken the book out of Draco's hands then directed him to get the butter and eggs out the fridge. She had also called in a favor from Watson to help source some ingredients. She was surprised how easily Draco followed instructions, taking the birthday cake baking seriously as if he was doing a potion examination for his O. W. L. S.

"It's not going to explode, you know, if the measurements for chocolate are not exact." She bit her lip harder when he scowled. She almost lost her composure when he looked at her imperiously, unaware of the slight dust of flour on his nose.

"Granger, the instructions clearly say —"

"A little more sweetness wouldn't hurt," she waved him off and poured a little bit more chocolate into the batter. Draco hovered over her as she continued to mix the dough.

Once satisfied, she dipped her finger into it. She had just brought the chocolate mixture to her lips before he caught her wrist and his mouth enclosed around her finger.

Slowly, he extracted his mouth, teeth grazing the pad of her finger. His hand remained firm around her wrist. Her breath stuttered when she caught the dark look in his eyes. "You're right," he replied.

After slicing the cake, they settled in the library. The toy snitch from Pansy and Blaise fluttered its golden wings around the room, reminding Hermione of a fat golden beetle. Despite not being allowed to use his toy broom inside, it didn't deter the birthday boy from running on his legs after it.

"Here's our gift!" Theo handed Scorpius a paper wrapped parcel. Scorpius' eyes brightened as he tore at the paper revealing a tiny cloak.

"Another gift?!" he bounced, wide-eyed at the amount of gifts he was receiving. A pang of sympathy went through Hermione upon remembering this was his first birthday party. She had almost forgotten it had just been him and Draco for the longest time. "Thank you, Uncle Theo and Missy Lu-na!" Scorpius grinned.

"You're most welcome, little one!" Luna chirped and knelt before him, helping him put it on.

"It's a shield cloak," Theo said to Draco and Hermione. "Some automatic warming charms too."

Draco put his hand on Theo's shoulder. "Thank you."

The look in his eyes showcased his gratitude but also a wish that Scorpius never needed it. Draco had been quiet during the whole affair, an almost closed look when Scorpius wasn't looking. At first, Hermione had supposed it was due to some sentimentality of his son turning another year old. She had given him space and not prodded, but instinctually, she had a nagging feeling there was something more.

"Granger!" Hermione pivoted towards the witch who watched her with an assessing look. Pansy patted the seat next to her with an expression that brokered no argument.

Knowing it was unavoidable, Hermione took a seat next to her. Despite calling her over with a certain authority, Pansy languidly sat back against the couch, her eyes settling on the rest of the party. Hermione joined her in watching Scorpius 'read' the lion book Hermione had given him to his new stuffed lion (also courtesy of Hermione, to Draco's dismay), his stuffed dragon, stuffed ferret, a bored looking Watson, and Luna.

"How are you?" The question caught her off guard. Hermione's concentration had been on a familiar looking knitted green cap on Scorpius' head as well as a bag of chocolates next to him. Blinking away, she shifted towards Pansy.

Her brows furrowed. "I'm fine — "

"Oh, come on, Granger. We have a lot to catch up on. In fact, I'm a little hurt you didn't call me during your whole fiasco with Draco." Hermione gave her a look. Pansy rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you weren't moping around when you tried to stay away from these two. I may have only seen how Draco handled it, but I'm sure it wasn't as pretty either for you."

Hermione glanced at Blaise, Theo, and Draco quietly talking. Draco's eyes briefly flickered to hers before looking away. She stilled. He was occluding.

"It was terrible," she finally responded. "I thought I could do it, I thought it would be better to stop things. There's still so much he is hiding, about his past. But we're trying."

"Astoria, you're talking about Astoria," Pansy murmured. Her eyes took on a contemplative haze. "I didn't see them together much, to be honest. But Blaise mentioned some things. I can try to ask him."

Hermione swallowed. "It's alright, Pansy." She had promised Draco that she would wait, that she trusted him. "He said he will tell me everything... when he is ready."

"I see." Pansy nodded slowly. "And how are you dealing with today?"

Hermione cocked her head in confusion. Pansy's lips pursed.

"Did you forget? Astoria died giving birth to Scorpius," she said carefully, "today is also her death anniversary."

***

The May leaves rustled above, some of which broke from their branches and fluttered to the forest floor. The Slytherins, Luna, and Watson had left not too long ago, leaving their small celebration on a sweet note. Quickly, however, the atmosphere had seemed to transform into something solemn — delicate — as Draco led them outside with a closed expression.

Hermione watched from the edge of the small clearing where a stream ran through. Two pale heads knelt before it. As Hermione kept her distance, she struggled to suppress the twist in her stomach, the echoing feeling that she was not supposed to be there. Draco had not said anything but she knew — she knew this was something between him and Scorpius, between them and the woman they lost.

Draco's lips moved but all Hermione heard was the soft hiss of the stream. She had not noticed the three sets of twin yellow hibiscus flowers until Draco had presented them in his hands. Quietly, he passed one pair to Scorpius before taking another and gently lowering and releasing it into the water. Scorpius did the same, a pensive look on his face as his blossom joined his father's and floated down the river.

Hermione felt her heart clench upon watching the intimate moment pass between them. She had said she trusted him and she did — but gods, the doubt, the fear was still there. She felt overwhelmed and confused. A gnawing sensation clawed at her chest and she had to fight the instinct to run and hide from the insecurity she was feeling.

As if hearing her thoughts, Draco looked up at her and stood. There was still a cold vacancy in his eyes but it seemed to warm slightly as they landed on her. She blinked when he held his hand out to her.

"Mini?" Scorpius called out quizzically when she had not yet found her bearings to move. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione walked towards them.

When she reached them, Draco entwined his hand in hers before handing her a flower. Nervously, she bent over and placed it in the water and straightened. Scorpius took her other hand, so tiny in hers. In silence, they watched the flower flow down the river until it disappeared.

***

"Watsy!"

"Ms. Granger," the elf said stoically, ignoring the boy, "Watson is here to deliver the report to headquarters."

"Oh! The report's in my room — "

"I'll grab it." Draco was up before she could move Scorpius off her lap. Scorpius continued his chattering as Draco walked further out of earshot into the hallway and towards her room.

Her room was in 'organized disarray' as she called it. Stacks of massive tombs and parchment lay on her bedside table along with maps haphazardly thrown on her bed. Draco's lips twitched when his eyes landed on a hairbrush that looked half beaten with its bristles bent — some of which were even missing. Finally he spotted the report, tucked beneath a half-empty pot of ink. He grabbed the parchment but not before coming across a photograph propped up next to it. Picking it up, he recognized it as the one they took at the muggle fair.

It was a narrow strip containing three photographs aligned on top of each other. Draco hadn't had a chance to look at it before. It still struck him as odd that muggle photographs didn't move. There was a quality of stillness to it, a precision in the way it captured a singular fleeting moment, freezing it forever.

In each photo, Scorpius grinned widely, laughing at something. Hermione was also smiling, her arms around Scorpius as she looked at his son in the first two photos then the camera in the last. Draco noticed that he was scowling in the first two, vividly remembering how he was caught off guard by the flash and neon numbers on the mirror-like panel. In the last picture, however, he was looking at her, an odd contemplative expression on his face that even he didn't recognize.

As he continued staring at the strip of photographs, an image of an older Hermione came to mind. A scene played in his head of this older Hermione finding the photograph, faded and dusted between one of her books. He imagined the twinkle in her eyes and wondered if she would hold a fondness in her voice while she explained who was in the photograph — perhaps to a bushy-haired little girl and boy with similar features fathered by a faceless man whom Draco couldn't bring himself to imagine. He wondered if her children would have a riot of curls and brown owlish eyes like their mother. Or maybe they would have red hair and freckles. And in this distant, kinder future where she finally had the life she had dreamed of — deserved — perhaps she would look back at this photograph and it would give her some measure of nostalgic fondness. He told himself it was enough — tried to tell himself it was enough.

***

"As you can read from the reports before you, none of the scouts we sent into the deeper parts Cistrine forest returned," Kingsley announced as those around the tables scanned the parchment. "They had emergency portkeys on them but they were never used. More Death Eaters have been sent into the forest as well but they don't seem to have returned either. It's possible they have set up a base there, but we reckon they've encountered something. Granger, Malfoy, any progress on research?"

"Draco and I suspect that the snake mentioned by Mulciber contains properties that will allow the Dark Lord to successfully create his new vessel. As theorized previously, his current form is unstable. We have seen him experimenting on full grown wizards but we remain certain that children are his primary objective for the final host. Given the state in which we saw him last, I think it's safe to conclude that thus far he has been unsuccessful." Hermione waved her hand, wordlessly passing out the executive summary of their research. "Seeking immortality alone is not enough. It was his mistake before. He knows that he needs a physical body that will give him what he truly wants — power. For the past years he's been after Dark Objects and it is likely that this snake is another potential missing component for him to finally get it right."

"Why does he want to use children specifically? Why won't a grown wizard do? Unless he's just that sick," Ron spat. He continued tapping his finger on the table, looking more gaunt by the second.

"It evidently crossed his mind, as seen in the experiments that left behind empty husks of witches and wizards," Draco answered this time. "Exhibit 18 details the victims we found that were touched by dementors. Not only were they left soulless but something else was done to them. We're still uncertain how much progress he has made but he will be intending to use a child once they get the process right and have all the components ready because a child's magical core is malleable."

Hermione shuddered at the memory of the bodies of children they found that one night. She noted similar looks of horror on the others. Voldemort was getting desperate. They needed to get to that snake first.

Hermione shared a look with Draco. "There's also something else we considered."

Moody's bobbing magical eye trained on her.

"Knowing that the Dark Lord doesn't make the same mistake twice, we questioned what else would be different this time — how would he prevent this new vessel from deteriorating?"

"And?" Moody asked.

Draco's jaw ticked. "We haven't figured it out. He has been hiding out lately, keeping under the radar — even Bellatrix." He and Hermione had looked into this for weeks, but could not find any solid leads. "During my time as a Death Eater, Bellatrix was always at the forefront of every crucial plan. Seeing them both in hiding is concerning. I have a feeling it's related to the question Hermione brought up."

A heavy silence fell over the room as they absorbed the information. They couldn't stop now — they needed to end this. Ron cursed as he flipped through more descriptions of the bodies they had found.

"Right," Moody grunted. "This will be a big mission to address but we're taking caution as we prepare. Some able wizards and witches that survived the attacks on their villages have joined us as new recruits. But we can't waste resources. The Zabinis have notified us that the children are settling in well. We've also made contact with the American Ministry but we're being as cautious as possible. We'll have the assignments out in the coming weeks. Constant vigilance." Moody thumped his wooden leg to emphasize his latter point.

They were dismissed and the room filled out with murmurs as they dispersed. Draco and Hermione had just made it outside the headquarters when the door opened again.

"Mione! Wait!"

Hermione whipped around and flicked her wrist sharply, sending Ronald Weasley to the ground. Draco couldn't deny that there was some sort of satisfaction in seeing Hermione, with her wand raised, firing hexes in rapid succession towards the redhead all the while he tried to duck and yell. It was always as sight when she reminded people that she was not to be fucked with.

" — Mione! You don't know what it's been like for me — "

" — for you?! You fucking — "

" — fucking hell! Mione, come on!" he yelped, staggering to his feet, barrely missing another hex aimed his way. "What else can I say? I'll say it!"

"No, no! I don't want to hear it!" Before Weasley could get a word out, Hermione disaparrated.

Weasley sputtered, the side of his head swelling with pus. Draco turned to follow after Hermione but found himself halting. He definitely harbored ill feelings towards the bloke, especially after he had abandoned Hermione and hurled all those accusations. But, he still didn't miss the hurt on her face whenever her eyes landed on her ex-best friend.

Draco sighed.

"Actions, not words."

"Pardon?" Draco turned to face him. Weasley bristled, blinking at him incredulously. Draco rolled his eyes. Stupid git.

"Actions, not words." Draco inhaled deeply and stepped closer. The puss began leaking from Weasley's face like a ripe pimple. "She's not the same witch you knew — the one you left behind."

"Listen here you poncy — "

Draco snarled. "Don't interrupt." The air crackled between them, the surge of magic on both their fingertips, demanding release. Draco held his ground.

"She's not the same. And if you want to be back in her life, if you want a second chance, you have to accept that. I'm not sure if your friendship will ever go back to the way it was but I know that deep down all she wants is for someone to try. Someone to pick her for once instead of her making every sacrifice only to be put second. Someone who wants her for who she is, not for the use of her intellect or what she has to offer — as if her value can be reduced to only that," Draco spat. "She deserves better — and she knows it," he hissed. "Give her time. Use your actions to show her you're willing to try without dishing out false promises that you think she wants to hear but you don't truly mean. Be honest and make an effort to get to know who she is now without holding over her head who she once was."

The red-headed oaf gaped, stunned at his words.

"And if the new person you get to know is someone you don't like, then I'll be holding the door open for you." Draco smiled coldly and at these parting words, he disapparated after her.

***

"Daddy!"

Hermione eyed Draco suspiciously as he walked into the kitchen with a peculiar lightness to his step. "Took you a while."

He sat next to her. "Missed me, Granger?" Draco reached over and snatched a piece of chocolate toast from Scorpius' plate.

"Daddy! Das mine!" Scorpius scowled, failing to grab the toast from his father who kept it out of reach before taking a big bite.

"What did I say about sharing, Scorpius?" Draco glared light-heartedly at his son who simply sniffed, putting his nose in the air exactly like a bushy-haired witch he knew.

"If I remember co–rrec-ly, daddy, you say Malfoy's do not share."

Hermione hid her laugh behind her hand as a staring contest ensued between the two Malfoys. It was enough to make her feel better after her interaction with Ron.

"It's alright, Scorp, I can always make more." Hermione smiled, pinching his cheeks lightly as he gave her a dimpled grin.

"Am a hungry big boy!" he chirped, finishing up his toast in large bites, completely unaware of his chocolate covered face.

***