Chapter 1: The Ministry

Draco Malfoy walked into the Ministry on January 23rd with one specific purpose: to get his marriage annulled. After a horrible three years of tea parties and innumerable "couples counselling" sessions, resembling more of a "Draco is at fault" session than anything else, he would finally be freed from the clutches of Astoria Greengrass. His wife, as she still was in that moment, was not a bad woman. She was nice (to purebloods) and rather pretty (when compared to the Weasel or the Boy-Who-Kept-On-Almost-Dying). Astoria had wanted the marriage to work, in the beginning. She had wanted to be a Malfoy, she had wanted the money and the status that that had entailed. She, however, had not bargained for an unwilling and utterly apathetic husband.

He had been forced, Draco constantly reminded himself when in the presence of his wife. His parents had told him that he must marry someone or he would be disinherited. He'd had no true love at the time and had, misguidedly, allowed his mother to pick a bride. And, oh, what a bride she had come to be. Weekly tea parties and shopping trips notwithstanding, Draco loathed his wife. She was shallow and stupid. She did not love him for himself, which was possibly the only thing he had wanted in a marriage. Luckily, after three years of unhappiness, he had discovered her infidelity (though he couldn't imagine how it had taken him so long) and asked for a divorce.

In pureblood circles, as his wife reminded him 13 days earlier, when he had informed her of his intentions, divorce was not looked upon favourably. So, as a kind gesture to his soon-to-be wife, he had opted for an annulment, accurately professing that they had not consummated the marriage. Three years was a long time but Draco was, in that moment, quite glad of his decision when faced with a semi-naked Astoria on their wedding night.

He landed in one of the many fireplaces at the Ministry with more than a quarter of an hour to spare, so he slowly made his way to the lifts and waited.

Hermione Granger was not happy one bit. Her ex-lover was back in the country, following almost four years living back in Bulgaria, and had heard that she had a daughter. Victor wanted to meet the pair of them 'for old times' sake'. Old times' sake her arse... Victor Krum had heard she'd had a kid and he wanted to check whether it was his. After all, the timing did fit. After all, he was, in fact, her daughter's father. It was because of this horrible event, of which she was informed by Victor in a letter delivered by an owl that proceeded to bite her finger, that Hermione stepped out of another fireplace and made her way into the Ministry of Magic, her daughter Alice clutching onto her hand and looking around with rapt eyes.

Alice was a happy child, brought into a wizarding world free of war. She was tall for her age but dainty in features, with ice blonde hair that mirrored her mother's in voluminosity. Her skin was pale, a result of Hermione's and the Weasleys' mollycoddling, though rosy and her eyes a steel grey. She looked nothing like her father, and for that Hermione was ever grateful.

"Hermione?" She was enveloped in a hesitant hug then ripped back to an arm's length distance from the man before her. Victor Krum had not changed since she'd last seen him, nor had he from the first time she'd seen him at the Quidditch World Cup back before fourth year. He was several inches taller than Hermione, though it did not register him as anything more than average in height, his black hair was cut short, as always, and his eyes were black, starkly contrasted against the white pallor of his skin. "Merlin, it's been too long."

All she could do was smile and nod numbly. This meeting could not end soon enough.

"...and who is this?" Victor crouched down and turned to the little girl clutching at her mother's leg. The girl did not move. "Are you Alice?"

Alice nodded but kept her arms wrapped around Hermione, who had pulled the girl into a tight embrace.

"Leave my daughter alone. You came to talk to me."

"Yes, yes I did. Well, you know I'm back. We left things on... uh... not so good terms and I just wanted to make amends. I'm married now, to my cousin's best friend Ana, and we have twin boys, Dimka and Boris. Now I'm back. I got a spot on that Chudley team, whatever it's called." A wisp of a smile settled on his lips.

"I had heard. Why, though, did you want to meet my daughter?"

"Ah, well. Ana told me that your darling little Alice," Victor reached out to pat her head, "doesn't have a father. And I was just curious as to whether that might have been me."

She frowned, her eyes cold. "No. She is not your daughter. Don't you think I would have contacted you if she had been? Merlin, Victor, you don't even think half the time."

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I just thought-"

"I know what you thought! And you were wrong! My darling little Alice, as you called her, does have a father. Her father is-" Hermione glanced around, searching for someone, anyone, she might know and could pass as the father. Finally, as if a miracle, she recognised someone and, without considering who it might be, strode over, grabbed their hand and dragged them back to Victor. "Alice's father is..."

She turned to the man beside her, the man whose hand she grasped so tightly. Confusion flickered in his eyes before they turned to compassion, as he sized up the situation. He proffered a hand to the man opposite.

"Draco Malfoy, nice to meet you."