Okay, so I might turn this into something other than a one shot, but at the moment, thats what it is. Maybe if I get a lot of REVIEWS it will become more, but momentarily, I have no clue what will happen.

The characters from Harry Potter do not belong to me, neither does Hogsmead, but Raiden does.

The song is "Your Daddy's Son" from "Ragtime."

ENJOY!!!!

Hermione Granger, the "Smartest girl of her age", the Gryffindor Princess, the Brains behind the Golden Trio, eighteen-year-old Hermione Granger had a baby. To be exact, a bouncing baby boy, and perfect in every way possible.

Baby Raiden Granger weighed in at birth at six pounds five ounces, five toes on each tiny foot, five fingers on both tiny hands, and a sweet little button nose to top it all off. Hermione didn't know what to do, a baby in her arms, no husband at her side, a baby in her arms.

Hell, Draco doesn't even know Raiden exists, he thinks that I'm off at University, making a life for myself, he doesn't know that I cant do anything except think about him. Her thoughts ran rampant as she cradled her son in her arms. Then again, the only reason he doesn't know is because I'm such a coward. A Gryffindor coward, no one would ever expect that.

She knew what Draco was probably doing at the moment, his fingers splayed delicately over the baby grand piano in the living room of his penthouse flat in London. He was probably with another woman, playing his way into her heart with each note, his fingers moving sensuously across the piano, fast and steady, and perfect. The kind of fingers you want to hold, on big strong hands, calloused slightly, but all the same beautiful. The kind of hands her son now had, the hands he had inherited from his arrogant, Piano playing father.

Hermione let the tears she had been holding back fall as she rocked her baby boy, thinking that maybe, if Draco hadn't left her as his father had asked, then maybe, he would be there, holding her, watching her sing to their beautiful son. Instead, she was out here, on a hill, just out side of Hogsmead, preparing to say goodbye to her son.

She couldn't go on any longer, she didn't have the means or the guts or even the capability to go on alone. She knew what she had to do, and she was going to do it. She knew she had to leave Raiden, and go on with her life, live the way she was meant to, before her pregnancy, before her baby, before Draco.

She hummed gently to her son, singing him a final lullaby. Pressing her cheek to the silk-like wisps of white blonde hair on the top of his head, she let her tears fall silently.

Daddy played piano,
Played it very well.
Music from those hands could
catch you like a spell.
He could make you love him
'Fore the tune was done.
You have your daddy's hands.
You are your daddy's son.

She hummed again as she rocked her baby, singing to her son about the man who fathered him, the man who was not around, who would never be around. She kissed his forehead lightly not wanting to make him cry as a reaction to her tears. Her body slightly shaking as her body racked with tears. She didn't want to say goodbye, she didn't want to leave her child alone to die, she didn't want to lose him, or herself, but she had to. She just had to.

Daddy never knew
that you were on your way.
He had other ladies
and other tunes to play.
When he up and left me,
I just up and run.
Only thing in my head-
You were your daddy's son.

She lay him down on the grass, her fingers splaying across his forehead, and cheeks, going over his features to memorize them, and remember them.

Couldn't hear no music,
Couldn't see no light.
Mama, she was frightened,
Crazy from the fright.
Tears without no comfort,
Screams without no sound.
Only darkness and pain,
The anger and pain,
The blood and the pain!
I buried my heart in the ground!
In the ground-
When I buried you in the ground.

She gasped in anger, in frustration, in sadness, and loss, and her sobs and cries worsened, causing her body to double over in despair. The baby gurgled and grabbed at a curl that had tempted him, his little fist curling and pulling at the tresses.

She looked up, her eyes softening.

Daddy played piano.
Bet he's playin' still.
Mama can't forget him.
Don't suppose I will.
God wants no excuses.
I have only one:
You had your daddy's hands.
Forgive me.
You were your daddy's son.

"I'm sorry love." She turned her back on the baby boy and began to walk away, that is, before the baby cried.

Soft footsteps brushed through the grass, rushing towards Raiden in his soft powder blue baby blanket.

"Hermione," a males voice called out, he found the baby in the grass, and lifted him into his arms, cradling him against his chest. "Hermione, is this my son?"

Her back was to the man, but she knew who he was. How could she face him now that he knew?

"Hermione, look at me when I talk to you." She turned to him, her eyes still leaking, and she cried out when she saw Draco holding her son-no, their son-so intimately. "The woman next door was outside when I came around, said you took the baby for a walk. Potter flooed me two nights ago, yelling at me, screaming that I shouldn't have left you, especially with the Baby on the way, he wouldn't let me ask him what he was rambling about, he came, he yelled, got a punch or two in , then left in a huff. Now, answer my question—is this my son?"

She nodded before crumpling to the ground, her entire body trembled, and he rushed to her, maneuvering the baby in order to comfort her.

"I'm sorry" she mumbled into his chest as he held her, "I should have told you, I was just so afraid." He wiped away her tears and placed the baby in her arms as he lifted her to her feat. "I love you, Draco, I'm sorry."

"I love you, too, now lets' get you two home and cleaned up, and then we will talk." He kissed he lips gently before kissing his son's forehead, and guided his Son, and the mother of his child back to her house, in the valley below.

Perhaps now everything will go well. He sure hoped so.

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