A/N: This fic was written for the DramioneLove Valentine's Fest 2013 on LJ. I've only just recently had the time to cross-post it here, so do tell me your thoughts on this piece!

Thanks a million to magic-never-dies for helping to beta this fic! I'm really grateful for her help, and any mistakes made here are mine. :D

Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Scorpius/Rose, Astoria/Theodore, Ron/Lavender
Warnings: Implied sexual situations, Alcohol consumption
Prompt: #22 - Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley are in love. Astoria and Ron are surprisingly supportive. The same can't be said about Hermione and Draco. They team up in order to split their spawns apart and end up falling harder and faster than either of them thought possible.
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Love was in the air.

The entire castle was bustling with festivities once classes ended for the day; pink balloons adorned the doorways while streamers and ribbons littered the corridors in the bright afternoon.

The clouds projected on the Great Hall's magical ceiling were charmed to form heart shapes and arrows regularly launched from amidst nowhere to impale the fluffy hearts. Upon impact, confetti and streamers fell from the ceiling to cheering students who had just finished their lunch, before disintegrating.

Hermione huffed as she walked past the massive double doors leading to the Hall, heels clicking on the smooth marble.

"Honestly, why put in so much effort into doing this when all the students would be outside?" she mused, continuing her way to the castle gates.

She wasn't entirely wrong on that point. After all, it was Valentine's Day and Hogsmeade proved a much better place for students to, er, celebrate their affections, leaving the castle relatively empty for the occasion. She, as most staff who had been at Hogwarts for a few years or more, would know.

"You're not spending Valentine's Day outside, professors?" Hermione asked around in the staff common room. This was the first year she was going to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day, as she usually went back home to celebrate Valentine's Day with her family and friends; and until a few years ago, Ron.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger," the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, smiled at the new Transfiguration professor apologetically.

"We've got a few things to settle. You three go ahead, though! Enjoy yourselves!" Professor Flitwick chirped, gesturing at the three more recently employed teachers, before majority of the teachers sidled out of the common room.

Hermione, Blaise and Draco exchanged looks, before Hermione broke the silence by clearing her throat.

"Well, it looks like I'll go and find Harry and Ginny first, then. Meet us at the school gates soon!" Hermione said brightly, and she too exited the common room, leaving the two Slytherins standing stock-still in the room.

"So, Malfoy, fancy catching up with our old Gryffindor pals?" Blaise smirked, and Malfoy's face contorted in response. Draco wondered what made him decide to stay at Hogwarts this year — a question he had been asking himself the past few years, in fact.

A look at his left hand answered his question.

"Not like I have anything better to do, right?" he replied, remembering the empty space on his ring finger where a ring once was. Blaise noticed, and gave him a friendly whack on the back.

"The benefits of staying single, mate — you don't have to deal with repercussions of estranged wives. And to take your mind off things, today's Valentine's Day! You never know what life has in store for you." Winking enigmatically at Draco's scowl, he opened the door dramatically and the two of them walked out of the common room.

"Cheer up, mate. You yourself said it was for the better," Blaise nudged him, noticing his sudden quietness, and Draco nodded. Blaise was right. Astoria wasn't the right one for him; and their union being one for financial benefit, he wasn't surprised that it didn't work out anyway. At least one good thing came from their marriage — Scorpius. He wondered where his son would be today. Draco was soon distracted from his thoughts as the duo concentrated on avoiding the standard Valentine's Day gnomes toddling around at their feet, waves upon waves of students scrambling to get outdoors, and pools of streamers waiting to trip and strangle them.

The situation didn't improve once they were out of the castle, either. Now, although safe from the vengeful decorations, they were presented with pairs of students scattered all around the compound, tangled together in various positions. Draco wrinkled his nose as Blaise pointed somewhere beyond the couples who were engaged in some intense lip-locking.

"There they are! Just behind the gates; I see Hermione's coat," Blaise said. Both of them heaved a sigh of relief, glad that they didn't have to linger around the courtyard for much longer.

This, though Draco would never admit to a single soul, living or dead, was one of the occasions where looking at Granger was greatly preferred, welcomed, even— to avoid spending another second looking at those demented students.

He swore he was never that… that unrefined. Even with his reputation as Slytherin Sex God, he never reduced himself to snogging a girl in such unromantic conditions. Now, 26 years after he last stepped out of the gates as a Hogwarts student, and now working as the Potions professor in the same school, he could somewhat identify with the older staff's disconcertment when seeing students engage in PDA.

A small cough brought him back to the situation at hand.

"Long time, no see, eh? How's things been going?" Harry Potter proffered a hand, and Malfoy shook it, shrugging.

After so many years, it seemed like their childhood rivalry had been subdued, and they were on speaking terms. Also, there wasn't much to compete about anymore — Harry had gone for a career in Quidditch, while Draco worked as a professor. Additionally, they had their own kin to worry about: Harry had Ginny, Albus, James and Lily to worry about, and Malfoy had Scorpius. Neither of them felt the need to outdo the other anymore — they would leave it to their children.

"So far so good, I guess. Except this morning- I don't think I can take any more students sucking face today."

Hermione and Harry nodded in agreement, while Blaise merely chuckled.

"Well, you're in for much more, Malfoy. Besides, today we get to see the spirit of youth! A sneak peek into the real lives of students outside our boring classes," he announced as the group walked past a Slytherin girl and a Gryffindor boy kissing by a tree.

The teachers in the group unanimously agreed that the higher-ups could consider their House Unity programmes a success. Such a massive success, in fact, that they'd rather not go out and see the fruits of their labour.

Blaise suddenly turned towards the group when they were walking past Madam Puddifoot's.

"Speaking of Valentine's Day, isn't it about time you two got some time to yourselves?" he winked at Harry and Ginny, jerking his head in the direction of the quaint little tea shop.

Hermione winced at the thought of the change in plan, but agreed with Blaise. Harry and Ginny did deserve some time together; it was Valentine's, after all.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, looking flustered.

"It's alright, we came here to catch up with you guys—" he started, but Hermione had already begun ushering them into the shop, on the basis of "No, no, we can do that later! It's time for you and Ginny to have some time together; I'll manage."

After multiple apologies and a promise to meet outside the tea shop after the lunch crowd died down, Harry and Ginny were seated at a rather cosy table in the corner of the shop. It wasn't long before they began talking animatedly, making small affectionate gestures. Hermione grinned before taking off to search for the others; at the very least, she made someone's day.

Blaise and Draco were waiting outside the shop as Hermione emerged.

"Want some lunch, then, while we leave the two lovebirds by themselves?" Blaise asked smoothly, and Hermione shrugged.

"Okay. I'm famished. You won't mind if I join you, right?"

The three made off to The Hog's Head (the only other decent place, The Three Broomsticks, was fully occupied) where they had a rather quiet lunch, peppered occasionally by talk initiated by Blaise.

"So, since it's Valentine's Day, what's a sophisticated lady like you doing, going out with your old schoolmates rather than on a date with someone?" Blaise asked conversationally, discreetly wiping the rim of the glass before taking a sip of Butterbeer.

"Dunno. Just felt like it, I suppose," Hermione replied, but her fidgeting and the absence of a ring on her finger spoke otherwise. Her marriage to Ron was greatly publicised after the war, so Blaise was quick to notice that she no longer sported the ring, nor talked very much of the red-haired third of the Golden Trio any more.

"Ah! I see you are having the same predicament as our friend here," the dark-skinned man said sagely, reading Hermione's mood. "He seems to be rather… dismal on this celebratory day."

"Zabini, don't start—" Draco glared. He had been hoping for a quiet lunch, seeing as how Granger was gracing his presence, and he really didn't feel like being the subject of conversation.

"Shush, Malfoy." Blaise smirked. He wasn't that tactless as to mention how both of them were indeed in the same predicament, with both being divorcees in need of love.

"Why don't we get out and look for Potter?" Malfoy said hastily as a last resort. The other two at the table noticed him getting uncomfortable with the conversation, and agreed to look for Harry.

"Alright," Hermione said, standing up and the rest followed suit, each paying for their own meal.

The three waited outside Madam Puddifoot's an hour after they left Harry and Ginny there, but they didn't seem to be exiting the shop.

Hermione looked over the sea of heads for the familiar flaming red hair at the table she last left them at, but saw no sign of them.

"Found them, Granger? Sorry to burst your bubble, but we don't have all day," Draco said casually, looking at his watch. They had exactly two hours left before they had to go back into Hogwarts for a staff meeting.

She continued squinting past the thick window glass panes of the tea shop.

"No, not really, but— wait! I see red hair. I wonder if—"

Hermione paused, narrowing her eyes.

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"Wonder if? If what?"

The concentrated look on Hermione's face rapidly morphed into one of horror.

"Wonder if Harry decided to dye his hair blonde in the past hour," she muttered softly.

Blaise craned his neck to look into the shop as well, and his eyes widened with a cross between amusement and disbelief.

"That's not Harry. And that isn't Ginny, even though her hair colour is similar. And neither of them would be doing that."

"I gathered that, Blaise," Hermione ground out.

"Draco…" he began, warning evident in his tone.

Draco rolled his eyes before coming up from behind them to see what the fuss was all about.

"What the blazes are you two on abou— Oh, Merlin!"

At his sudden exclamation, Hermione and Blaise jumped up in alarm, Hermione at once turning around and grabbing him by the shoulders for confirmation that her eyes weren't fooling her.

"Oh my God! My eyes! My Scorpius!" Draco yelled, swatting her arm out of the way and shielding his eyes from the scene unfolding in front of him.

"I think I'll just throw up now," came the reply from the person directly opposite him, and it was true- she was starting to turn a little green. He sidestepped her immediately, declining to mention his own desire to upturn his stomach, and turned back towards the shop window, hoping it was his eyes playing tricks on him. He tried denying it: Rose Weasley wasn't really fisting his Scorpius' hair like that, and Scorpius wasn't really wrapping his arm around the Weasley girl and nibbling on her lip, and she wasn't trailing her fingers down his chest in the most suggestive manner and—oh, no. None of that would be possible, because Scorpius could do so much better than that.

To his utter disappointment, his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. He stood frozen, unsure of whether to barge in and kill Rose Weasley (who, by the way, was whispering something into the blonde boy's ear and causing him to smile brighter than he ever did in front of his parents), or to hurry back to his study and plan in more detail how to execute her more painfully and slowly. Finding no immediate feasible solution, he groaned loudly, face buried in his hands.

Hermione, composure completely shattered at the sight of her daughter acting so chummy with the Malfoy boy, kept chanting under her breath like a mantra, "No, it can't be true. It isn't true. My Rosie!"

They suddenly simultaneously faced each other.

"This is all your fault."

"What is whose fault?" A voice sounded from beside the entrance, and Harry emerged from the shop followed by Ginny.

"YOU! I knew being friends with you would come around and bite me in the arse, Potter!" Malfoy shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the Boy Who Lived.

"What? What did I do?" Harry was genuinely baffled by the duo's sudden outbursts until Blaise discreetly pointed out the reason for the pair's irrational behaviour.

"Oh…"

Blaise stood between the two, unsure of how to deal with them. The trio were already starting to get some looks from the other witches and wizards walking to and fro, in and out of the shop.

"Um, Blaise? Could you tell McGonagall I'll be late for the meeting? Just make something up— I ate something for lunch that made me feel bad, something like that." Malfoy took off, leaving the dark-haired boy with the witch that had now seemed stunned with shock.

"And Blaise? Could you tell her I won't be coming at all?" Hermione said absentmindedly, a faraway look in her eyes as she walked off in the direction of the castle.

Their abrupt departure took Blaise by surprised, and he shook his head.

"My, my. Am I glad I'm not married."

Inside the shop, neither Scorpius nor Rose noticed the commotion and continued with talking over a cup of coffee, eyes glazing over as they gazed at each other dreamily.

Back in the castle, McGonagall was slightly surprised when two-thirds of the new teachers were missing from the staff meeting. Blaise said something about both of them eating something weird for lunch, and she raised an eyebrow in incredulity, but said nothing about it.
After all, it was Valentine's Day, and she wouldn't want to stop the two even if they were involved in something which probably had nothing to do with gastrointestinal problems.

Meanwhile, Hermione determined that the occasion was important enough for a visit to her ex-husband's house.

Standing right outside the Apparition barrier of Hogwarts, she whirled around on the spot and with a 'pop', appeared outside Ron Weasley's flat that he shared with Lavender.

Knowing that he would be home resting after his job as Keeper during the Quidditch season was over, she rapped on the door sharply.

"Ronald!"

Sounds of shuffling behind the door; then, with a small creak, the door opened, revealing a tousled mop of red hair.

"Hermione? I knew it would be you. Lavender said she would be back late from her manicure, so it was either you or Mum—" his words were cut short as she ushered him into his own flat and pushed him back onto the sofa. Not even bothering to sit, she took leverage of her height over Ron to bring the message across.

"Ron, your daughter has been seen snogging the Malfoy child."

The redhead tilted his head to one side.

"And I'm supposed to be…?"

She glared at the figure on the sofa.

"You are supposed to be furious! I thought you didn't like Malfoy."

"I used to not like him! But seeing as he provided an education for our daughter," he got a pointed look at this – apparently he conveniently forgot her role in 'providing an education for their daughter'— "I don't see how this has anything to do with him. It's his boy, not him."

"Precisely! It's his boy we're talking about."

"I don't see what's wrong with that. I mean, you don't choose who you like," he muttered, reaching over to the coffee table and picking up an issue of Quidditch Weekly.

She harrumphed, seeing as Ron clearly was far more interested in reading Quidditch statistics than having a conversation with her about Malfoy and/or his child.

"Oh, leave it to you to be mature at this point in time. Does no one understand the severity of his situation?" she grumbled, and got a grunt in response. Honestly, even Ron forgave Malfoy after all this time? At the very least, he was indifferent, and this was what irked her as she took her leave from the apartment.

Little did she know of the truth in Ron's words when it came to her in the near future.

Draco, on the other hand, opted for the less interactive method of discussion with his ex-wife.

Dear Astoria, he wrote, if you haven't yet heard, our son Scorpius has decided to go out with Rose Weasley, daughter of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley (the frizzy-haired prude and the ginger respectively from my year, if you don't remember). What are your thoughts on this? Signed, DM.

He attached the note to his owl's leg, still bristling from the garish images that have yet to be wiped from his mind, and went back to his study to mark papers in peace and solitude.

Not long afterwards, a tapping sound startled him after he crossed what must have been the thirtieth paper which stated the use of Wolfsbane wrongly. He walked up to the window, untied the parchment and read Astoria's reply; it was short and sharp.

Let the boy do what he wants; after all, he is old enough. Also, stop bothering me. You're wasting my precious time which I could've spent with Theodore. Astoria Nott (née Greengrass)

Malfoy rolled his eyes at her last sentence. How gratuitous of her to keep him updated on her love life. Adding salt to the wound, she was. They had already had a tumultuous marriage which ended in a rather messy divorce as the estate and other assets had to be sorted out with the corresponding parties. He would probably never forget those gruelling few months; Astoria, on the other hand, seemed quick to move on.

She was also, by the looks of it, trying to make his life as hard as possible by taking the opposite stand and supporting the relationship between the Weasley child and Scorpius.

Obviously, if this was the case, both Hermione and Malfoy concluded, there was only one other person who would actually want to pry the loving couple apart.

It wasn't long before Scorpius and Rose got wind of the incident outside Madam Puddifoot's, due to eyewitnesses in the student body managed to put two and two together.

"So, what do you suppose we do?" she murmured, keeping her voice low in the quiet surroundings of the library.

"We'll try and distract them; I'm not going to let anything happen to us." Scorpius smirked, looking up from his N.E.W.T Potions textbook to gaze at Rose, whose red wavy locks were haphazardly strewn around her face. She was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment; no doubt finishing up an essay only due in a few days' time, like how her mother did so during her time at Hogwarts.

"How?" she replied, attempting to extend her parchment while the quill was still in her hand; the latter got knocked out of her hand and skidded across the table. A larger hand stretched out from opposite her to swiftly pick up the quill, before extending out to her. She made to take it, but Scorpius covered her hand with his and held the grasp.

"With them," he said matter-of-factly, before slowly letting go of the quill and allowing it to drop into the palm of her hand.

Now it was her turn to smirk; no doubt, a trait picked up by her after spending so much time with the Slytherin.

"Well said; the Slytherin you are."

In the evening…

A sharp knock on the door startled Draco out of his thoughts. He wasn't making much headway anymore into marking the Potions homework, his thoughts instead revolving around Scorpius, Rose, Scorpius and Rose, and how could Astoria possibly support the relationship between their son and Granger's daughter?

He got up from his chair and opened the door a fraction.

"What do you want?" he didn't even bother to mask the irritation in his voice, although most of it was caused by his inability to concentrate on his work.

"I need your help."

Draco's eyes widened and he was fighting back the urge to laugh. She? Need his help? Was the world going to end?

Hermione, noticing his silence, countered it with an accusing, "It's not like you don't need mine."

She was unfortunately right, he sighed, and moved out of the way to let her into the room.

Once inside, she immediately let loose all her grievances.

"I went to Ron's house to tell him the good news, and I assume you did something similar." she questioned sitting on Malfoy's sofa while he stood over his table, clearing away his un-productivity.

"Astoria isn't siding with me on this. She actually WANTS Scorpius to get hitched to your progeny!" he lamented, a stray worksheet stuck under the lamp giving way with a loud rip. "Oh, shit," he muttered, scrambling to get his wand to repair the sheet.

"Same goes for Ron. You, I can handle. But my Rose," she emphasised, hinting at Malfoy to use that name instead of 'progeny', "with your boy? Merlin knows I'm never ready for something like that!"

"That's why we need to form an alliance. A truce, if you may." He took a seat on the recliner opposite her.

"You sound like you've been thinking this through." Hermione raised an eyebrow, willing him to substantiate his claims despite the sinking feeling in her stomach that she already knew her reply to his request.

"Because if Astoria isn't budging, and Weaselbee on your side doesn't want to help, it seems that we must take things into our own hands. We have to be the ones who will help our spawn before they make the wrong decisions."

"Right. Like how they might marry and make us related."

"Let's not go into that just yet, shall we?" Malfoy groaned, bringing a hand up to support his forehead.

Hermione looked rather nauseated as well, her back rigid against the leather seats.

Honestly, the mere action of bringing up the subject was stressful. Stressful enough, in fact, that he deemed it necessary for him to take out his collection of firewhisky. He opened the cabinet behind the sofa and brought out a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses.

"Would you care for some?" he set the glasses down on the coffee table and expertly poured the amber liquid into the two glasses.

Hermione nodded. "I wouldn't mind." Despite her not being a heavy drinker, she really needed something to take her mind off things. And she sensed that wasn't going to be productive any time soon, so why not?

"To our successful truce," they agreed, clinking glasses to what would be a long evening drinking their sorrows away.

"I will disown her!" a tipsy voice sounded over from the base of the sofa.

"Me too," a raspier voice responded just a few feet away.

Hermione gave a short laugh, waving an empty bottle of firewhisky around in the air. Evidently, the glasses were abandoned in favour of drinking straight from the bottle; it was, after all, more effective as the evening went on and the process of pouring firewhisky into the glasses became messier. It didn't help that she couldn't hold her alcohol very well.

"No, you can't. Astoria would then get custody of him, which by the looks of it, would be your worst nightmare. I, on the other hand, have nothing to worry about." She giggled.
"You! You can't disown her either. Scarhead and Carrot-top will hex you to bits. Look, why are we even having a conversation about disowning our children?" he said, a smattering of sense seeping through his inebriated state.

A thump; and then there was no reply.

"Hello? Granger…" he shuffled over to her and prodded her motionless form. "Are you alive?"

He was replied with a soft snore, and he squinted down to see that she somehow had fallen asleep on his sofa.

Oh, great. Just what he needed. What was he going to do with her now? Levitating her back to her room was out of the question; he had a brief vision of him having to walk behind a floating Granger and bumping her against her room door, as she was asleep and couldn't give the password.

Hoping that it wasn't the worst decision he would ever make in his life, he left her to sleep on his sofa and found a spare blanket. Malfoy placed it at the foot of the sofa before lumbering off to his room to get some rest as well.

Draco opened his eyes blearily, and then quickly shut them. The sunlight was already streaming through the windows and it hurt to keep his eyes open. With closed eyes, he groped around his bedside table for his watch, and accidentally knocked over a glass of water which spilled all over his covers.

What a great way to start the morning, he groaned, finally locating the watch and noting the time before a dull throbbing in his head forced him to lie back down in the puddle of sheets. It was still morning; he didn't have classes until the afternoon. The world could wait.

Now, back to the main problem: why was he feeling like a Thestral just ran him over — twice?

The events of the previous evening suddenly flooded his mind, and it was with relief that he realised that he was still wearing clothes; soaking wet clothes, but still clothes. This meant he still had a modicum of self-control. After all, her visit was just a chat, like between friends, friendly-chat, right?

He groaned again as he processed the information.

Since when did the term "friends" appear in his vocabulary concerning Hermione Granger?

It's confirmed, he thought. It's all because of the alcohol.

He was lucky he didn't stock up so much firewhisky in his cabinet that they would be knocked out cold for the next week or so. But then again, he guessed he could have done with the extra help.

After he felt somewhat less nauseated, he made his way to the bathroom in sodden clothes and opened his cabinet and downed a bottle of potion to help with the hangover.

The concoction worked wonders for his mental state — until he remembered that Granger was probably still in his study, sleeping on his sofa.

With a sigh of resignation, he took another bottle of potion out of his cabinet.

It was all in the name of professionalism, he assured himself. It had nothing to do with him caring about her — of course not.

Lies.

He then made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, where he took his usual seat next to an unusually chipper Blaise.

"So, how did things go with Hermione?" he asked cheerfully, stabbing at the rasher of bacon that was on his plate.

"Quite well, I suppose — wait. How did you know I was talking to her last night?"

Blaise grinned at Draco's slip-up. "It could be the rather subtle method of you totally not showing up for our lesson planning session that I may have gathered one or two things about what you could have been doing. Also, you didn't turn up for the rest of the staff meeting at all. Honestly, what have you two been up to?"

"Nothing much." He was met by a sceptical stare from Blaise. "Really, nothing! We just had a little talk about the young ones."

Sure, he had left out the part where they were hopelessly wasted, but it wasn't that major a point.

Precisely. So why was he feeling so guilty and hesitant of relaying information about his time with Granger even though nothing happened between them?

Blaise shook his head and sighed. God, Malfoy was being really jumpy and flustered whenever he brought up the subject.

There was obviously something that happened.

Hermione sat up groggily, one hand nursing the crick in her neck from sleeping in a weird position the night before. Somehow, her legs got entangled in what appeared to be a blanket. She furrowed her eyebrows at the uncharacteristic gesture, only to turn towards the coffee table to see another one.

It was a note.

Granger,
Here's some potion for the hangover. In case you forgot, you have classes this afternoon.
DM.

She was suspicious of the bottle. What if it contained some poison? A thrum echoed through her head and she winced. Malfoy was not in the suite.

Well, here goes nothing.

She downed it in one gulp, and in a few seconds, her head began to clear and she was able to get her mind working at full capacity again. Taking a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece, she figured that she would have enough time to go back to her room, get cleaned up and go down for breakfast before classes started.

Hermione mentally chided herself as she walked along the corridor back to her room. What was she thinking, going to Malfoy's room to discuss the problem. Other than her getting successfully wasted, nothing was accomplished. She had to rectify that.

After lessons that day, she knocked on his study door again. He opened the door fully this time.

"Don't you have work to mark? Lessons to plan? Detentions to hand out?" he asked, eyebrow raised, but he moved aside to let Hermione in.

"I did those during lunch," she waved her hand dismissively. "What we have to do now is sort out this problem regarding our children and actually plan something, not merely solve our problems with alcohol." She looked at him pointedly and he shrugged.

"You can't say you didn't have even a little bit of relaxation from the stress, right?" the blonde offered, and she sat down at the same spot on Malfoy's sofa as the day before.

"I did," she rolled her eyes at Draco's triumphant smile, "and I forgot to say this — thanks for the potion. It really helped me keep my job as Professor."

"Imagine if you went into class with a hangover. Your students would have thought their teacher got turned into a zombie." He grinned.

"A zombie who actually wanted her own head off, from the way her head was aching that morning. Really, though, the potion was really thoughtful of you. Although I don't think I would want to relive the whole drunk experience on a school night for a long, long time."

"Tea for you, then?" he asked, pouring out some tea into two cups. "Tea always helps me when I'm marking students' homework. Keeps me sane from all their infuriating answers."

"Two sugars, thanks. I wouldn't have guessed you were a tea drinker," she chuckled.

"Why, do you actually think I live on firewhisky alone?" he said teasingly, and Hermione laughed.

It was different, the atmosphere; they had never achieved this level of friendliness and banter during a conversation before. Hermione wasn't sure if this was a direct result of the truce or the drunk moments, but either way, she wasn't complaining. After all, Malfoy was rather nice if he wasn't being snarky — something he was doing far less of these days.

Perhaps time had really changed them. Hermione would never have expected that she would go into any form of agreement with the Malfoy, and here she was, laughing with him over a cup of tea.

Things really did change.

Needless to say, another evening passed without any sort of feasible plan concocted to split Rose and Scorpius.

Perhaps it will be good if you were to actually talk to Scorpius about this, Astoria's next letter had said. However, it was quickly realised that from Astoria's point of view, this would help to sway the elder Malfoy into accepting their relationship, but Draco wasn't going to be fooled. He told this to Hermione, and she agreed as well; they were going through with the talk regardless. If they had a chance to hear the other side of the matter, they could home in on the weak points of their argument and perhaps convey the idea that no, they weren't meant for each other and obviously, they were not going to get serious any time soon.

However, Draco was regretting that he ever took that woman's advice as he sat awkwardly opposite his son, whom he called to his study after dinner.

Did his ex-wife actually enjoy knowing that somewhere out there, he was metaphorically dying of awkwardness? Was that her main motive in life — to laugh at his misery?

He shook the thoughts out of his head and gave a small smile at his son.

"Scorpius—"

"I know why I'm here, Dad. You want to talk to me about Rose."

Draco didn't know whether to heave a sigh of relief or to go into a lecture. At least the hard part – introducing the subject matter—went better than he had expected.

"Well, all I have to say is that I'm standing by what I believe in. I know you may not necessarily approve of her, or us, but I'm old enough to make my own choices. You have to trust that I will make responsible ones, and if I don't, I will bear the consequences of my actions."

Draco's heart swelled a little at how his son had grown into a fine young man. Sensing that this was not the appropriate emotion to be feeling during what could be the only opportunity to snuff out the flame that was kindling his son's relationship with the Weasley, he cleared his throat and straightened his collar.

Finally putting the seriousness behind him, Scorpius smiled.

"I don't know, Dad, but when I'm around her, I get that feeling. A feeling like, everything just clicks into place, you know? Also, it's hard to find someone who I can relate to, challenge, even, on an intellectual level. Rose always presents that challenge to me, and it makes me happy. Rose makes me happy, and I know she feels the same way about me."

Sensing that his little speech wasn't understood fully by his father, he tried a different approach.

"I know you and Mum haven't had the best of experiences, but it's like how Professor Granger and you seem to understand each other. Also, you argue a lot with her but it's always in the witty way. Doesn't it feel nice to be on the same wavelength? Isn't it nice to have an intellectual equal, one whom you can discuss anything and everything with? Doesn't she make you feel renewed? That's how I feel with Rose."

"What?" The elder Malfoy's pitch rose an octave. This analogy was not right. He was too much at a loss for words to even formulate a reply to Scorpius' statement.

"There is nothing going on between us." Draco enunciated firmly, although his thoughts were shouting otherwise.

"Then you should consider it. After all, it's the most alive I've seen you since… you know." He neglected to mention the divorce, as it was still a sensitive subject for them all.

Malfoy was silent for a long while, before finally speaking up.

"I… I think you should go back to your dorm, Scorpius. You have a long day tomorrow." Draco stood up and patted his son on the back, before gently nudging him towards the exit. Scorpius turned around, hand on the doorknob.

"Thanks for understanding me, Dad. Also, I wish you all the best with Professor Granger. You two do make a great couple." The door clicked shut and Draco was surrounded by silence and his thoughts of Hermione.

They had spent a lot of time together ever since the incident at Hogsmeade, and it was during this period that he finally got to really talk to the Gryffindor. At first, he only made to talk to her because of their shared goal, but as time went by (and by the way, it went by really quickly), he realised he actually enjoyed her company. He was actually starting to look forward to meeting her to discuss scheming and planning the destruction of the couple, although most of the time, the scheming and planning part didn't quite follow through.

Which brought him to the next issue.

Why was he so intent on breaking them up in the first place?

There were definitely signs of jealousy there. He was jealous that his son could find happiness with a girl, but he couldn't. Jealous that his son had the freedom to choose who he liked and hence instinctively, he wanted to suppress that freedom like how his father had suppressed his, which left him with a loveless marriage solely for financial benefit. Jealous that his son has his whole life in front of him to enjoy that happiness, while he ruined his past and was probably going to waste his future, with no one to share it with.

Sigh, he wanted the life his son had.

Maybe he shouldn't overreact. After all, he just wanted the best for his son… right? And if the best for his son included a one Rose Weasley, who was he to deny Scorpius of what truly made him happy?

Yes; he did have Scorpius' best interests at heart. This was not the time to be selfish.

Little did he know that with a little sacrifice, his own happiness would come soon after.

"How did your talk with Rose go?"

Draco and Hermione were once again meeting at the former's room, to consolidate the information on the talks with their children.

"Okay, I guess. She understands my concerns. But there's one thing that puzzles me."

"What?"

"She mentioned that you and I — oh, nothing." She reached for her cup of tea which was on the coffee table; as for herself, she was nestled comfortably at her usual spot on Malfoy's sofa.

"What is it?" Draco prompted again, noticing Hermione's slight restlessness.

"You and I spent a lot of time together. They said we would — we would, er, make a good couple."

"Funny that. Scorpius said the exact same thing."

"They probably scripted that to throw us off," Hermione shook her head amusedly at their children's cunning, her smile hiding the actual nervousness beneath.

"Well, they kind of did throw me off," Draco said under his breath, to which Hermione inched closer, tilting her head.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, nothing."

Silence engulfed the room for a tense few seconds, before Malfoy slowly said, "Do you think they were kidding?"

She instantly offered a reply. "Of course they are; they're kids."

She wasn't sure if she was deluding herself.

"Or maybe it runs in the family." Malfoy commented casually, filing a stack of papers into a drawer.

"What?"

"Falling for the fit boys. More specifically, the blonde ones." He smirked.

"Runs… in the family?" she repeated blankly, before turning a delicate shade of pink. "Fit boys? Falling for them?" she sputtered, then cleared her throat. "You think too highly of yourself, Malfoy."

But the main point was, Draco reminded himself: she didn't deny that. In fact, she was changing the subject. That was a sure sign that he was on the right track.

"You know, it isn't easy to pull them apart. And I'm no believer in fate but somehow, this looks like it's meant to be. They've made their intentions clear; our efforts were proven fruitless and I reckon that regrettably, no amount of manipulation would cause them to rethink their decision," he added.

"You know what, Malfoy? I have to agree on that. I'd hate to break them apart, I mean, I'd have to bear the brunt of those weepy moments, the constant pining; I don't think I'll be able to live it down."

"Yeah, so I guess it was a good thing we didn't succeed."

"Yeah. But at least we got to know each other better, in case of the very likely event that – urgh —we become in-laws. But I'm glad you're not too bad…" Hermione trailed off awkwardly.

"You're not bad yourself," he blurted, and turned back to filing to hide his utter embarrassment that he actually said that, that he missed the blush that was creeping up Hermione's neck.

Draco pulled out another stack of papers, and for a few minutes, all that was heard in the room was the methodical opening and shutting of filing cabinets, and the tinkling of teacups.

After Malfoy couldn't bear the silence any longer, he decided to finally take his chances and voice out what had been bugging him ever since the talk with Scorpius. He abandoned his pathetic attempts to do filing and sat down next to Hermione on the sofa.

"This is going to sound absolutely mental, but why don't we spend our time on er… more productive things, now that we've deemed our project a complete, utter failure?"

Hermione raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Ourselves." He managed to say. Oh Merlin, he cringed, could he be any more corny?

"Ourselves individually, or ourselves… together?" Hermione asked slowly, as her face showed signs of a dawning realisation.

"The one you thought of first," he said quickly, relieved that Hermione had understood where the conversation was heading. Boy, was he glad that it wasn't just him imagining those… weird feelings. It was completely different from when he was with Astoria. In fact, he never experienced this feeling with anyone else.

Silence.

"Do you really think this'll work out?"

"You mean you thought of the other one first?" Malfoy asked in a surprised tone, but the smile in his grey eyes betrayed his actual feelings.

"Shut up Malfoy. You can feel it too, can't you? Stop denying it." Hermione said, although it was more of a confirmation to herself than a statement to her fellow professor. Good, so both of them noticed their potential.

"We'll never know… if we don't try." Malfoy's voice was low as he reached a tentative hand to brush away a stray tendril of hair from Hermione's fringe. She visibly shivered from the contact and she inched closer towards him.

Hermione tilted her head upwards to meet the blonde's gaze. His stormy grey eyes were intensely focused on her, seemingly mapping out, memorising each detail of her features; how her irises, which were normally a chocolate brown, now seemed shades darker than usual; her freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose, making her look more endearing; and his gaze travelled lower to rest on her lips, before flicking up quickly to meet hers for affirmation.

There seemed to be an unspoken consensus as her head imperceptibly dipped slightly to signal a 'yes'.

Time seemed to crawl by as Malfoy moved closer to her, his nose almost touching hers. Their breaths mingled momentarily and Hermione could smell his aftershave mixed with the woody scent of tea. A little closer, and their lips finally met.

And then time stood still.

Hermione placed a hand on Draco's chest, and was relieved to feel that his heart was thumping as fiercely as her own was. Using her hand as leverage, she leaned into the kiss and Malfoy let out a small moan, tilting his head sideways to allow better access. One of his hands was in her hair, his fingers threading into the soft, brown curls, while the other slipped around her waist and settled in the small of her back, closing the space between their bodies.

The newfound heat that was radiating between them elicited a groan from Hermione, and Malfoy took the opportunity to push past her parted lips, as his tongue explored every ridge, every nook, and he decided that the taste of Hermione was something he'd never get enough of; it had something to do with how her mint-flavoured lip gloss complemented the indescribable taste of Hermione.

The brunette also decided to do some exploring of her own. All she could think of at the moment was Malfoy; how his earthy scent seemed to permeate every pore of her body; how his soft, platinum blonde fringe brushed against her eyelids; how she felt his sinuous muscles contract and relax under the fabric of his shirt with every small movement. Everything seemed so far away compared to how solid and real Draco was to her at the moment.

Finally, the need for air arose and the two broke apart, foreheads still touching.

Hermione was the first to break the silence.

"I could get used to that," she grinned, as Malfoy turned his attention to her earlobes, nibbling them affectionately.

"Oh, you should expect nothing less from me." He growled into her ear, and she wondered how that could sound so sexy and full of promise, yet endearing at the same time.

She gave him an incredulous grin, and he narrowed his eyes, slowly letting go of her.

"How dare you question my skills!" he exclaimed, diving forward again to tickle her sides.

Her laugh caused Malfoy to suddenly realise that he couldn't get enough of the way her mouth curved up in that way, how her eyes creased when she smiled, and how it was that much more special when it was reserved for him.

He found out more about her in three days than he had in more than two decades. It took him that long to realise what he was missing. He would have kicked himself, except that he was in a rather comfortable position now, with Hermione resting her head in the crook of his neck, and he wouldn't have wanted to move for the world.

"Say, Granger, shall we go somewhere to celebrate Valentine's Day?" he asked, his fingers lightly caressing the back of Hermione's hand. No way was he going to waste any more time when he finally found what he was looking for.

"But Valentine's Day was three days ago!" Hermione retorted in amusement. "Do you not remember how this whole arrangement first started?"

He sighed.

"Okay, I guess we owe it to them to help us put two and two together. Anyway, this is to make up for that lousy Valentine's Day. I mean, seriously, lunch at The Hog's Head?"

Hermione laughed.

"I guess you're right. How about having a picnic by the lake instead? There'd be fewer students there."

Draco smiled and leaned in to give her a peck on the lips.

"Sounds like a great idea."

"You're sure no one will find us here?" she whispered, her fingers loosely intertwined with Scorpius' and he led them past a quiet spot near the lake.

"Of course not. And even if they do, we're prefects," he emphasised, as if being a prefect would solve everything.

"Just like you to bend the rules."

"Are you complaining?" Scorpius grinned, nudging her. Rose giggled and skirted away into a small clearing further in the shrubbery, pulling him along with her.

"I can't believe the plan worked out; my Mum looked like she was really doubting herself! Although I suppose it would be nice if they really found happiness in each other, you know?" she gave a happy sigh.

A faint rustling sounded from behind them.

"What's that?" Rose asked urgently, her grip on Scorpius' hand immediately tightening.

"Nothing much, I bet. Probably a mouse or something-" he trailed off, eyes fixated on the shimmering surface of the lake instead.

"Mmmphh, Malfoy."

"Yes, Rose?" Scorpius said, lightly tugging on her hand as they headed for the lake from the shady clearing.

"That wasn't me," she said, smacking his arm in mock offence, but she too was curious of who exactly it was then, since it wasn't her.

"What? Then who was it?" he widened his eyes in horror.

They both turned in the direction of the noise at the same time, and saw two figures, one with brown hair which curled almost exactly the same way as Rose's, and the other who looked uncannily like Scorpius, curled up on a stone bench and doing unspeakable things with their mouths.

Rose and Scorpius' jaws simultaneously dropped.

"Oh my God! My eyes!"