Disclaimer: Harry Potter created by J.K. Rowling

Story: Draco Malfoy's sickly wife wishes for a child to raise, but is unable to give birth. With a pilfered time turner, and extensive cooperation from one Hermione Weasley, Draco seems to find the perfect answer to all his problems… Eventual DM/HG.

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Surrogated Affections

By: lemonmalfoy

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Chapter 1: Conception Of A Conception- At The Manor

Malfoy Manor, June 4, 2005.

Draco Malfoy marveled at how wonderful the massaging knuckles of his hands felt against his aching forehead. He sat in the cool darkness of his wife's bedroom, where he waited patiently and silently.

"Draco… darling…"

Draco's face wearily tips upward from its restful perch near the foot of his wife's bed at the sound of her voice. She was awake again.

"Yes, Astoria..? What is it?" He replies in a soft voice that is weighed down with exhaustion. "Healer Whipple should be here at any moment—"

"A head full of blonde hair like mine, because yours is too pale. Too pale."

Draco sighs dejectedly as Astoria spoke deliriously with her arms thrust out to grasp some invisible object in front of her.

"Like those pale, bloody peacocks outside!"

When he had first married Astoria Greengrass, she was the pinnacle of the wizarding world's ideal trophy wife. She had stunning green eyes and golden hair that was usually pinned back by ornate jeweled hairpins. By far, the prettiest, most eligible witch in their circle of aristocracy, with many suitors already vying for her hand by the time the Malfoys had taken any notice. Naturally, her blood was as pure as a valley of prancing unicorns.

It was a fairly simple conquest for Draco, as shown by the grandiose wedding of himself to the beautiful Miss Greengrass naught but four months later.

Now, it was difficult for Draco to see her in her current state. So pathetically shrunken, bedridden, crazed and unstable. So far and away from the pretty young witch she used to be. It was as if death had already curled its bony fingers around her, slowly squeezing the life out of her body.

"A little baby with golden locks like mummy…" She sang as she kicked the rich colored comforter from her legs.

Draco uncurled himself from the end of the bed and slowly made his way to his wife's side.

Life seemed so incredibly unfair to him in that moment. As if he hadn't suffered enough already…

And now…his wife...

Draco knelt silently beside the frail woman, tenderly wrapping his long fingers around her outstretched hands and then pulling them down to rest upon her lap. He pulled the discarded bed covers securely over her chest, and tucked it under her chin.

It had all started a year ago, on a hazy summer day at the Malfoy Manor.

Lovely Astoria Malfoy was gossiping cheekily with her mother-in-law concerning the curious whereabouts of her former schoolmates in the large dining room. It started as a fairly normal conversation that was punctuated every now and again with chortles of disbelief, condescending snorts, and graceful 'harumphs'.

"Honestly… once I was finished, she pushed me out of the line! While I was just about to pay! She still can't let bygones be bygones, that horrid Parkinson woman…" Astoria let out a frustrated sigh, and daintily brought the cup of tea to her lips.

Then, starting from the pinks of her fingertips, to the very ends of her blonde hairs, her entire body began to pale. Her peach-tinged face was mysteriously draining of all its color. Gradually it seemed that even the emerald of her eyes, and the gold in her curls were fading, as if being instantly bleached by the light of the sun. Suddenly her hands started to shake, and the tea cup, which she cradled within them, slipped to the floor. Narcissa looked oddly at Astoria as the teacup smashed into tiny bits under the table. "Don't worry dear. I'll take care of the mess." And she then snapped her fingers for the house-elves. "Do be careful next time, Astoria, dear. Priceless teacups, you know." After a new cup of tea and a few pastries were re-administered to the Manor mistresses, Narcissa finally began to notice that her daughter-in-law's entire being began to turn stark white. Then, with a shriek of fear and alarm, the elder Mrs. Malfoy witnessed her daughter-in-law finally crumple to the floor in a tremoring heap.

The healers at St. Mungo's had diagnosed it as a rare magical ailment called the Bloodless Sickness, in which an untraceable, unbreakable enchantment spreads itself through blood veins in the victim's body, eventually dissolving all the blood held within. Victims of the disease wither away slowly and painfully until death claims them, as there is no cure found at present.

It is said to have originated from the back-firing of a modified Scourgify spell which Dark Wizards and Witches used to torture Muggle-borns by "cleaning" their "filthy blood"… how ironic that the utterly despicable curse would turn on the Pure-Bloods in such a manner.

But…his poor Astoria shouldn't be the one suffering, then. It should be him…

Draco almost growls out loud in anger, drowning in his muddled thoughts and memories until his wife starts to speak again.

"I want a child, Draco. I want to hold a baby in my arms."

Astoria breaks her arms free from the covers to grab at the air in front of her once more.

"Let's have a baby…" She continues, her words seem to physically impact Draco as his whole being starts to crumple and shrink inwardly as he knelt beside her. His pale hands shake slightly as they take hold of the small woman's even paler ones.

Another terribly unfair blow dealt by life.

Astoria Malfoy, his beautiful wife of five years, was not only deathly ill, but she was also barren.

Draco, personally, could never remember a time when he didn't think about his future children. He thought about having children so much, he could swear he could hear the giggles of children echoing through the halls of the Manor sometimes.

While still attending Hogwarts, he would daydream of his future children participating in the Sorting Hat ceremony in the Great Hall. They would be sorted into Slytherin, of course. Natural born quidditch players, the lot of them. Top marks in the school and everything in between that causes one to become a pompous, boastfully proud parent. He'd imagine those same silvery-blonde, grey-eyed miniatures torturing Potter, Weasley, and Granger miniatures, and he'd become instantly giddy with anticipation.

Now that these dreams could never be, it hurt him indefinitely whenever Astoria, in her delirium, would mention her longing for a baby of their own.

"If it's a boy, I'd name him Hyperion. Like papa…"

"Maybe you should rest a little bit more until the healer arrives." Draco gives a tiny squeeze to the delicate hand within his own.

"And the girl will be named Hestia. Like mummy…"

Before he is about to object to his wife's wayward suggestions, a knock is heard on the tall bedroom door. Then after a moment or two, the pleasant, red-haired head of an old woman pops into view. Her appearance is that of an average older witch, except her startling, ruby red hair that is piled into a beehive of curls on the top of her head, and her brilliant, lime-green eyes that matched her Healer's robes.

"Mister and Missus Malfoy? May I come in?" The old healer asks hurriedly, though she had already progressed half-way to Draco's side before he could respond.

"Yes, Ruby." Draco says weakly, almost wincing once he notices the desperation in his own voice. "The spell. Be quick about it. She isn't doing so well."

He slowly smoothes back the stray silvery-blonde hairs that had escaped into his eyes and steps aside to let the healer through.

"Don't you worry, Mr. Malfoy. After the blood transfusion, she should come back to her senses. She always does." The Healer, Ruby Whipple, laughs and pats his arm kindly… then tosses him effortlessly onto a nearby chair with a strength uncharacteristic for a witch of her age.

"Do you always have to be so rough?" Draco whines, rubbing his lower back in pain. He was sure he heard a few unnatural crackling sounds coming from the bones in his body as it hit the chair.

"Rough? Whatever do you mean, dear?"

The red-haired witch chuckles heartily and swiftly taps her wand to his forearm, the wand sparking to life with magic as soon as it touched his skin.

Then, from Draco's arm to the same spot on Astoria's arm, she draws a bright white line in the air, connecting to both arms.

"Sanguify."

As soon as she utters her spell, the white line of magic turns crimson red. Astoria's cheeks turn a pale pink and the color of her eyes brighten considerably. After a few more moments of the magical transfusion, Healer Whipple double taps her wand to both Malfoys' arms, and the red line disappears.

"There you are, Mrs. Malfoy! How are you feeling?"

Astoria yawns in response to the healer's inquiry. "Better, I suppose. I'm tired. I think I'll take a nap…" She replies clearly, her voice devoid from any derangement as she turns from the aged healer and her weary husband, slipping into a peaceful slumber.

Healer Whipple, who continues with Astoria's check-up, suddenly bellows out a loud snort of approval and begins to speak. "All is as well as it should be. What was she going on about before I got here?"

"Just the… usual."

Draco sighs. His pallid, pointed face grimaces, becoming quiet after he stares at his wife's back as she slumbers on.

"I wish she would stop already." He mutters coldly, rubbing his arm to get rid of the numbing after effects of the blood transfusion spell .

"I'm certain that having a child would improve her health, spiritually and physically. Children possess a miraculous healing power that works better than magic sometimes."

Whipple uses her wand to conjure potions from her standard, St. Mungo's-Issued, extension charmed pack.

"Why don't you grant her that baby already, Sir?"

She says matter-of-factly, her eyes never straying from their squinting position directed to the potion bottle in her hand. Draco stops rubbing his arm abruptly, turning his full attention to the elderly healer witch. Grant her… that baby?

"Now, is this the batch I brewed yesterday, or today?" Ruby mutters to herself, absentmindedly running weathered fingers against the glass of the bottle.

Draco's grey eyes narrow into small slits. "What on earth do you mean..?"

"Oh. I seem to have packed another patient's pain relief potion in here as well. Merlin knows what trouble I'd be in if they were swit—"

"No, no. The baby. The baby!" Draco exclaims in annoyance at Ruby's babbling. "You said something about 'granting her' a baby…"

His knuckles poised and ready near his forehead to attack the next bout of shooting pains that threatened to ambush his temples.

"Ah." Ruby's yellow-green eyes sparkle in recognition of what point he was getting at. After a few moments of suspenseful silence, she speaks slowly, carefully controlling the tone of every word from her mouth for what she thought to be dramatic emphasis.

"It is entirely possible for you to grant her her innermost wish of gaining you your children, Mr. Malfoy…"

Draco purses his lips together, and gives the mirthful, old healer his best, pure-blooded, condescending look of incredulous distaste.

He and Astoria had tried every magic spell and potion in existence to try and conceive, but to no avail. Then, when she became sick, her body had become completely incapable to sustain and carry life within her. To the best of his recollection, Healer Ruby Whipple was the exact witch that had diagnosed his wife's unfortunate inability to produce offspring…

If the old hag knew all of this, what exactly was she up to?

"Don't look at me like that… do you want me to tell you, or not?"

"How..?" He asked, in a croaked whisper.

"It's simple, really. You need to find yourself a surrogate to birth one for you." Astoria sighs contentedly from behind them, causing both the old healer and the young Master Malfoy to freeze. Once they were sure that she was slumbering peacefully again, they huddled closer, whispering amongst themselves.

"A… what?" Draco inquires, not quite understanding the term surrogate.

"Honestly, I never thought about it until I talked to my cousin Periwinkle the week before."

The old Healer administers the correct potion to Astoria as she sleeps, pouring a substantial amount into her opened mouth. She pushes her jaw closed with an expert hand, and uses a clean cloth from her pocket to dab off the excess liquid that was left on her paled lips.

"Unable to have children, she was. So they found a young woman who was willing to bear one for them to raise as their own."

Draco smirked at her. "Still… it wouldn't be my own. We've already considered adopting, and Astoria would have none of it. Neither will my mother or father, for that matter…"

"On the contrary, young sir… Periwinkle's husband was the father. He combined his seed with the surrogate, and she became pregnant with his child."

Draco's eyes grew wide as he found himself speechless. All he could do was blink profusely.

"Y-you're telling me to…you think I should cheat on my wife for a kid..?"

Well, he certainly hadn't thought about that one…

"Only if you want—of course not! Of all the silly things, Mr. Malfoy!" Ruby's laughing voice stirred the sleeping Astoria, and so she quieted down, pointing her finger at Draco's pointed nose. "Here is what I propose…"

There was a way to have his own offspring, without committing adultery? Draco was listening intently. So intently that he didn't notice that while he was inclining his head down to hear Healer Whipple's intriguing words, his ear had flattened itself to the side of her wrinkled face. And Whipple, being the odd witch that she was, continued to speak, unhindered by the grown man's ear which was plastered to her temple.

"It's a new thing we copied from muggle doctors. Your seed would be magically implanted into a surrogate mother, and she will birth an heir for you and your wife."

Draco Malfoy felt the excitment fluttering in his chest like a hummingbird's wings when she mentioned heir.

His heir.

Without a doubt, and without hesitation, he found himself desperately eager to try this surrogate mother business.

But… was Astoria truly well enough to go through with raising a child, even if they both wanted one?

I'm certain that having a child would improve her health…

Children possess a miraculous healing power that works better than magic sometimes…

With the words of the batty old healer resonating in his skull, he threw a glance over to his sleeping spouse.

She turned, smiled slightly whilst her eyes were still shut, and then burrowed her face comfortably into her pillow.

Children possess a miraculous healing power…

Draco's breath hitched inside chest for a moment, then he began to speak.

"What do we need to do..?"

A sparkle danced in the old witch's eyes as she nodded her head with a knowing smile.

"There's a place in Diagon Alley that you and your missus should go to when she gets enough rest…"

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Preview

Next Chapter: Conception Of A Conception: At The Burrow

"Come on, Hermione. Remember…we both agreed that we'd start our family when I've been hired as an Auror and when we've moved out of the Burrow…" Ron states cautiously, raising both hands in the air in front of him, making 'calm down' motions in a desperate attempt to settle her down.

On their wedding night, instead of engaging in fun, married-people "activities", much to Ron's dismay, Hermione spent the whole night planning their whole life, writing vast amounts of goals on countless rolls of parchment, and conjuring magical data charts in the air for him to study (and take notes). The Future Family section in Hermione's repertoire was utterly gigantic. "Our major goals need to be accomplished before we have children, Ron." Hermione's back was turned to her freshly wedded husband, who had fallen asleep between her Bathroom Etiquette and Muggle Hygiene Awareness presentations. "I don't want us to be one of those kind of parents who have kids, then can't accomplish anything because of them in the future." She scratches her head thoughtfully, analyzing the scrolls in front of her. "So… I've perused through the goals—" Perused in this case, meaning she's read and carefully considered every one of the four-hundred and fifty-one goals that she had penned onto various scrolls. "—and the two of the highest and uttermost of importance are you becoming an Auror, and owning our own home. Our family's future will stay stable by beginning stable, as mother always says…" When Ron finally awoke, his hand was glowing because of a recent enchantment. "Aaaah! Hermione! What've you done to me!? I-I swear I was just resting my eyes!!"

"It's nothing Ron. This is just so you'll remember the importance of the priorities we've set…"

"You made me keep a jinxed promise, just short of an unbreakable vow in agreement. I'm not about to get myself blown-up to pieces by getting you pregnant now…"

Ew… my first fanfic. I love DM/HG. *sigh*

-lemonmalfoy