Port, the temperature of the room, shook in Lucius's unsteady hands. The tremors came and went, a by-product of living among dementors for six months. He didn't tremble as much as he had a month ago, so he knew he would be back to his old self again, with time. The man standing over him, blocking his view of autumn's last light on the garden, would do well to know that too.

The Daily Prophet slapped down on Lucius's mahogany desk. He looked at the photo of the wizard reluctantly accepting another accolade forced upon him, then back at the new Minister of Magic

Fifty pounds thinner, and feeling twenty years older, he barely had the patience to suffer this intrusion. His home, now a pittance left to him by Draco, had become his refuge. In his study, he was trying to regroup, trying to navigate legal clauses concerning properties and holdings, as well as salvage his marriage. He was not interested in that wizard. Not anymore.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"We, at the Ministry, believe Harry to be a critical player in our wizarding community. We are still receiving prophecies about him."

"I thought that Trelawney bat lost her mind years ago."

"She did, but she has produced disturbingly accurate information of late. Information that concerns you. The Ministry requests a private conference."

"I'm a criminal, remember? You can't trust me with Ministry affairs."

"If you cooperate in this matter, your record may be forgiven, and your assets restored to some degree."

This made Lucius sit up. Instead of approaching the topic with the gratefulness of hope that other wizards might've had, he sneered. "What on earth would cause the Ministry to forgive my crimes?"

"Your help. Are you aware of your son's whereabouts?"

"What's this got to do with Draco? He's off studying some arcane potions making with the natives of Balise. That was the last he told me."

"Your son lives with Harry Potter here in England, and has since their escape a year and a half ago. They share a muggle apartment and appear to live dual lives in the wizarding and muggle worlds."

"Draco, a muggle home? With actual muggle neighbors? You're out of your mind."

The Minister tossed down another photo. It had been taken with a zoom lens and featured Draco's mop of white hair blowing as he stood in open daylight, at a mailbox in front of a brick establishment. He held a grocery sack in one hand and a sling attached to his chest. Behind him, Harry waited at the entrance. The only thing more unsettling than Draco in a muggle setting, was the blue sling around his chest. It extended from his neck, went around his waist and protruded slightly.

"See anything unusual?"

"Everything about this is unusual. Get to the point."

"The child in the photo. We believe that's your grandchild."

Lucius's first instinct was to laugh. He closed his eyes on the irony. "There's a child in this picture?"

"Your son has the infant in the sling."

"Well, you can't see it very well." He squinted at the picture. "If Draco has a child, I assure you, he would've told me."

"Not if he literally had a child with the wizard who sent you to prison. Not if this child resulted from the curse you allowed Voldemort to inflict upon him."

"That's absurd. Draco's body recovered from that curse."

"Or did it? From my understanding, your son nearly lost his life because of the instability of the curse. It caused his body to change sporadically. Are you certain that just because he appeared whole the last time you saw him, he has not had a reoccurrence of the episode? He was, after all, Voldemort's experiment."

This dissolved the smug confidence on Lucius's face.

"Look closely, Mr. Malfoy. Here's a blow up. You can see the edge of the child's face."

The larger picture revealed only a tiny cheek and a tuft of white hair peeking out of the sling.

"That proves nothing. If they're living muggle lives and playing muggle house, it stands to reason they'd adopt themselves a muggle pet."

"That's no pet. That's your granddaughter, the blood daughter between Draco and Harry." He emphasized his point by placing a third picture in front of Lucius. This wasn't like the others, a sleek image printed on paper. This photo appeared three-dimensional and life-like. In it, a young, stunning white-haired witch emerged into view wearing a cloak so dark, it appeared spelled with added blackness. Against it, especially when she turned to model it, her long hair fell in silvery-white sheets that reflected the light. She laughed at herself, but no sound came from the photo.

Lucius was enchanted. "Same child?"

"Age sixteen. That's a prophecy photo, adapted through a pensieve from Trelawney's mind herself. You are looking at the most influential witch predicted in our foreseeable two hundred years. Voldemort's death disturbed the wizarding timeline enough to cause an insurgence of magical influence. The Ministry can hardly keep up with the prophecies of children born after the war, who will change the course of the wizarding world. She is one of them. She is, in fact, prophesized to lead them."

"Another politician in the family. Great."

"She's more than that. Trelawney says she comes to us out of great need. She appears as a young girl, but she is an advanced soul, and before this is all over with, the wizarding world will recognize that. She will be loved. She will bridge the worlds of muggles and wizards."

Lucius snorted. "Well, I already don't like her."

"It makes sense. Our world is changing. The incoming generation will not need to fight a Dark Lord, though they may face rival influences."

"What do you want from me?"

"Don't tell me, the daughter of your only son, your granddaughter, predicted to come to great power, does not interest you."

"So what if it does?"

"If it does, we implore you to come to the Ministry and learn more. Let's just say, we have prophecies of prophecies, as you well know. We have details of how the future is affected by what you and I discuss today. It is of benefit to us both to keep a close eye on Draco and Harry. You would do well to attempt to restore your relationship with your son. We want you to consider it, for everyone's sake."

"You sound scared. What did you see in Trelawney's gibberish? Another war?"

"We saw something far more unsettling, Mr. Malfoy. A queen. A witch queen. And when she peered back into the history regarding her birth, she did not like what she saw."

Now, Lucius was intrigued. "What did they name her?"

"Iece."

Before he could roll his eyes, Lucius knew instantly why she was named so. It was the hair, of a silvery quality like ice. No doubt a powerful witch, in infant form, could place the name gently in the mind of her doting father. In the photograph, she twirled in her cloak, spinning the light off of her beautiful hair, symbolic of cold power. He already understood this bitch. She did have his son's good looks. Nothing dark about her, except that splendid black cloak.

Lucius dismissed the Minister and stared at the photo long into the evening. By morning, he was sure of two things. One, he would pay his son a visit in his humble little muggle apartment. And two, the sixteen year-old queen in the photograph was wearing the cloak that currently hung in his own wardrobe. It swallowed her thin shoulders, but he recognized the gold snakes embroidered at each end of the collar. So she adored her grandfather's heirloom gift, did she? She did emulate a certain authority in it. As she twirled proudly, Lucius relished his foresight to have paid a small fortune on the cloak's superior craftsmanship. It was fit for a queen.

Draco and Harry never agreed to see Lucius. This is why he stopped sending owls and started hiring muggle drivers to park outside of their home while he watched the coming and goings of their lives. Apparently, Harry counseled troubled young wizards for the Ministry while Draco looked after the infant. Seeing that the baby was only months old, Lucius realized their lives were in no way set with routine. But it was a start. No one at the Ministry could confirm if Harry and Draco had arranged some sort of marriage, and the idea sickened Lucius.

He kept his distance, at first. But no matter how much muggle drivers were paid, they always looked suspicious of innocent observers asking to park for hours outside of houses. Eventually, Lucius bought the home across the street from Harry's apartment. He had no use for it, but it gave him and Narcissa cover when they wanted to see their grandchild without frightening the boys. They could've aggressively sued for visiting rights. He wanted to, but Narcissa talked him out of it.

"If you fight them, they'll take that child so far away from us, she'll never know us."

Give Harry time to heal, was her reasoning. "You did hurt him. Give him his distance."

Lucius knew she was right. What he didn't tell her was that Harry's magic destroyed Voldemort, so how hurt could a wizard that powerful be? He remembered laying on the freezing slabs in Azkaban thinking about it. Harry should've bled out the way Draco did. The wizards who saved Draco, were still in Azkaban. Harry survived and recovered his masculinity. How? Snape wasn't around to save him, even if Snape could reverse the curse. That curse was meant to kill Harry that night.

No, Lucius did not feel sorry for the most powerful wizard, currently not known to the wizarding world. Oh, everyone worshipped him as some sort of hero. But Lucius knew it was all about blood. And the fact that his blood mingled with Draco's to produce an heir, well, maybe Harry came from better stock than Lucius thought. Or maybe his blood dominated Harry's recessive genes. That's why Iece was so fair.

His granddaughter certainly deserved a better upbringing. An apartment? Really?
The more he waited around in that matchbox of a house, the more Narcissa spoke of brightening it and making it comfortable. When she started packing bags and expecting them to sleep there, Lucius decided to make his stand.

He waited till the small blue muggle vehicle had gone, leaving the small white one. That typically said that Harry was gone for the morning and wouldn't be back for hours. That would give him plenty of time to reason with Draco, and hopefully, catch a glimpse of his grandchild.

He made a point of wearing the cloak she would one day wear, and crossed the muggle street. If anyone saw him, if anyone thought him out of place, with his otherworldly expensiveness, and long pale hair fastened behind his head, he dared them to say it to his face.

He did not announce himself when the person behind the door asked. He knew it would open. Harry and Draco had become accustomed to their trusting muggle neighbors. He even saw Draco take in another's child for a whole day once. That was disturbing. Draco could hardly take care of his own, let alone someone else's. He knew because he'd seen through the windows. Their apartment was often in shambles. Draco's long limbs often curled beside the baby on their muggle couch, in front of their muggle television, and Draco would burry his head in his arms and cry for hours.

He stopped that line of thought when the door flew open. It wasn't Draco looking back at him, it was Harry.

It would've been nice, if the two of them could've reached a civil agreement. It would've been nice to have been forgiven and invited into the home of his son's apparent husband. That's what he was calling Harry anyway. All of that would've been acceptable in light of new circumstances. But when he and Harry recognized each other, they were back in that room at the manor. Terror filled Harry's expression. Memory assaulted him. And Lucius was back in control. Before Harry could slam the door in his face, before he reeled out of Lucius's grip to turn and run, Lucius saw that his wand was no where in sight. This, and the fear in Harry's eyes, was enough to lure him to chase.

Maybe he would've stood his ground and fought, if he didn't have a new daughter to protect. Lucius thought about that.

He didn't intend to intrude. He didn't intend to cause Harry to run to the infant. To grab it from its crib and lock himself in that tiny muggle bathroom. It was only when he heard the banging of a stuck window, that he suspected Harry was going to risk putting the baby outside before following it, that he broke down the door. Having accomplished that, and knowing full well what the destruction looked like to Harry's wild eyes, he heard the baby cry just outside the window.

"Stay away from me!" Harry yelled.

Lucius held his hands out, palms up. "I have no intention of harming you." He meant it. But something about the way Harry breathed out is fear in rushed breaths, through clinched teeth, made Lucius want to treat him like the victim he was behaving as. He did want to see if Harry had truly recovered from that night. He wanted to see if Harry had the equipment necessary to father a child. There would be no better time to affirm that information. He had to do it while Harry's fear dominated within him. If it wasn't for the trauma Lucius had inflicted on Harry, it would not've have been possible to do what he did next.

Harry fought, but he fought through hysterics. Lucius could hardly believe this was a functioning wizard who counseled other adolescents. His calm control took over as he backed Harry against the sill and quickly undid his jeans. True to his word, Lucius only looked, he did not attempt to engage Harry in any way. What he found, brought him relief. Harry appeared to be completely male.

The child was Draco's. Lucius was so relieved, he allowed Harry to collapse against him. The young man cried tears of irrational stress. Tears that belonged to that horrible night, and whatever demons still haunted him over it. It would've been pointless to say that he was sorry, because he was not. It was simply not in his breeding to regret his power. That didn't mean he wanted Harry to keep hurting. It just meant he couldn't undo what was already done.

The baby's cries told him of its position safely on the seat of a chair outside. The bathroom sat next to the kitchen, upon which a small patio attached. While deducing that none of them were in any immediate danger, Lucius allowed Harry to tear himself away. Harry's fighting hatred had no sooner returned, than Draco stood in the doorway. "What the fuck is going on?"

Draco had never hit his father before, never even thought about it. And he didn't then. But he did grab his wand and very sharply, asked him to leave. He escorted Lucius to the door this way. "What the fuck are you doing here anyway?"

"I just wanted to talk to you. I didn't come here to cause trouble."

The baby's cries echoed down the hall. "I don't have time to talk to you. Get the hell away from me, from us, and stay away."

"Draco, your mother and I are across the street. Please come talk to us tonight. Tell us about our grandchild. We miss you."

"Your grandchild? Is that what you think she is?" He moved forward, backing his father out the door.

Lucius dared to stop against the frame. He didn't believe Draco would hurt him without provocation. His son had used the Cruciatus on him, but that was from having seen the worst thing he'd ever seen his father do. Draco, he knew, still needed his approval. Draco, at heart, was a sweet child, even if he was too angry to show it at the moment. "Yes, Draco. Believe it or not, I've come to you, because I'm ready to accept her into my life. I don't care that Harry's her father, she's a very special child."

Draco looked mystified and outraged at the same time. "Yeah, she is. And you're not to have anything to do with her."

"Just be civilized, Draco. There's no reason why we can't sit down and talk. Voldemort is no longer -"

"Civilized?" Draco's wand shook as he drove it into the side of his father's throat. Lucius had to move or have it puncture him. "You want to have a civilized conversation? Ok, let's get this over with right now. Do you know how Harry survived that night? Once we got him out of there, I was too weak and useless to do anything. His friends got him to Snape. Snape couldn't undo the curse. We waited. We waited for him to bleed out. It never happened. Harry's body stayed female.

"Where I needed constant spells to keep me changed, Harry's body was holding the freaking half-assed spell done to him, on a whim. At first, we couldn't understand it. But when a week went by, then another, Snape knew. It took the rest of us time to figure it out. Harry wasn't dying and he wasn't changing back, because she needed to live."

Draco relished the comprehension on his father's face. "That's right. He was fucking pregnant and that's the only thing that saved his life. We were never going to fucking tell you. We were going to get as far away from you as possible. He did get really sick, and it was sticking by his side all those months that solidified our friendship. He needed me, and he let me help him. So don't tell me a goddamn thing about how you feel regarding your grandchild. That's your fucking daughter, and as long as I'm alive, you'll never have anything to do with her. Harry's and my life's goal is only to protect her from you. That's all I'm living for. So go back to your little house across the street, because by the time you set foot back on this property, Harry and I won't be here."

Draco had him backed far enough out the door, that he slammed it on Lucius's stricken expression.

True to his word, Draco and Harry packed and left during the night. Lucius had watched them go, and wasn't surprised at all to find their empty apartment in disarray with the remains of a hasty retreat. He walked around and stood in the empty rooms, just to imagine what life must've looked and sounded like with a newborn between the boys. His newborn.

He took some things, and kept one of the baby's blankets. It smelled of perfumed powder and baby spit-up. He bundled it under his cloak and took it with him. In time, he knew he would find the boys again. He would let them settle. He would not fight for custody, no court would give him custody. He would simply watch her grow from a distance and influence her life as much as he possibly could.

He and Narcissa were done raising children. But they had room in their life for such an extraordinary little witch. He would see that she attended the right schools and the right social events. He could still influence matters if he could not play as openly as he once did. And Narcissa, while she wasn't going to like the news initially, needed something to fill the loss of her son.

He looked again at the photo the Minister had given him. No, Narcissa was going to love their daughter. How could she not? She looked so much like Dra

Please review! :-) This story is now a part of the Unbearable series. Draco's is the first story. Masterpiece is the second, though the timeline precedes Draco. Conflicted is just a side piece in the same universe, not critical to the plot. Where Did You Go is a one-shot in the same universe. And Harry (Tea with Severus) is the next and current one being written. Thanks to everyone who wanted more!

Here's a great video. Credit to TinNo4i.

( watch?v=Ix57okDqm28&index=2&list=PLfP3By3wYC51azxPUJj71cS4eaHJOIsvS)