"Sodding hell!"

Draco Malfoy woke upright on a bed. Wait, he was on a bed? He frantically looked about him to figure out where he was, but immediately regretted it as the pain returned. At least it wasn't as bad as it had been at the office.

"Mr. Malfoy," someone began, and Draco turned towards the voice, "my name is Wilkins. I'm a healer here at Mungo's. Do you know why you're here?"

"Better be for the bloody pain in my back," Draco complained as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yes, the spell should be wearing off soon," Wilkins said casually as he walked about doing other work, but Draco hung onto it.

"Spell? Someone hexxed me, and you know it!" Draco shouted as he got off the bed. "Show me the bloody git and I'll give him a taste of his own medicine."

"It was me," Wilkins said again calmly.

Draco stared blankly.

"W-well, get on with it. Explain yourself."

"We have a young patient in the hospital, with a condition we haven't yet figured out."

Draco moved to cut in but Wilkins wasn't in the mood for it.

"We needed to find someone with the same genetics as him, and had to do this much dated spell, as there isn't a modern equivalent of it yet."

So, there was an ill boy who had genes similar to Draco. Could he be sick too?

"Well, do you know what's wrong with the other guy?"

"We don't know for certain what's wrong with him. All we know for sure is that your son is indeed sick."

If Draco thought the first news was shocking, this barely even compared to anything during his school years.

"My who now?!"

Wilkins looked at Draco like he was an idiot. Oh, Merlin these young people.

"Your son," Wilkins said as if repeating to a dunce. "Would you like to-"

"Get out," Draco pointed to the door.

Wilkins took his things and walked out.

His son.

Draco paced the floor, thoughts and faces flashing in his mind. He has a sodding son?! Since when?! Okay, okay. Sure Draco wasn't a saint, but he cleaned up his messes. He certainly couldn't have a bastard in his family.

Draco needed someone to be here. His mom! No, his father would find out. This was something he didn't want his father hearing about. He didn't even know who could possibly be the mother of this... son.

Draco needed to meet this boy first. He went out the door looking for Wilkins.

Wilkins had gone to report to Hermione about Draco. Surely they both expected Mico's father to come see him. Hermione wasn't too shocked to discover it was Draco, but still it was beyond her worst nightmare.

She wasn't stupid; she was the smartest witch of her generation after all. She'd started her guesses as soon as she'd seen his hair. Blonde, and not only that, a certain shade of blonde. But every time she thought about it, she wondered how the hell she would have ever slept with... him. But then again, maybe that's why she'd done the memory spell. If she'd done it to herself, she could have taken it off. She tried once; it didn't work. So he had had to have done it.

Even with all the thoughts and questions running in her head, Hermione didn't have the heart to face Draco. So, she told Wilkins that she wouldn't be here when Draco came around.

Draco found Wilkins near his rooms and agreed to seeing the boy. The healer lead him with such confidence that Draco figured he'd expected him to agree. They arrived in the children's wards and Draco watched parents being... parents. A mother swaying in her seat panicking. A pair speaking to the healer. A father holding his new baby. And amongst these people walked Draco Malfoy, who didn't even know he had a child.

The Slytherin walked into Wilkins when the doctor had stopped outside the door. Draco quietly apologized as the healer stared at him before walking in. Draco could hear the man speaking to the boy, telling him someone was there to see him. At no point did the healer mention that it was his father.

Draco entered the room when he was called, slowly and keeping his eyes straight ahead, so he wouldn't see anything else first. And then he saw him.

His son.

The little boy was all tucked up in the sheets, his arms out close by his side. He looked smaller in the big hospital cot. His eyes looked too heavy for his face, probably too much crying. The boy was pale for his tone, too.

"Hello," the croak got him out of his daze.

Draco finally looked at him, and wetted his suddenly dry throat before returning the greeting.

"Hi, there. What's your name?" Draco asked in the most comforting voice a Malfoy could muster.

"Mico. What's your name?" Mico asked, looking up at him.

Draco recognized his name. So did the mother know this child was his? How dare she not tell him? How dare she even... well, Draco had a lot of those, but right now he had a bigger problem. What name does he give? Should he say Draco, and consequently let the boy know? Or does he say Malfoy, and be probably likely to scare the boy to death?

"William."

"You know mummy?" Mico asked his daddy.

"Ye-yeah, I know your mum," Draco came to his son's side. "I'd like to know you, if that's alright. Do you mind if I sit?"

He would have stood for the rest of his life if he had to, but Mico allowed him to sit, so he scooted the chair closer to the bed and sat.

"You know, I just noticed," Draco revealed as he got a better look at his son, "my hair looks like some of yours."

"Cool," Mico said with a slow smile.

Draco gradually built up a conversation with his son, starting trivially before he got to more specifics. He liked cars, and bears, and something called toy guns. He liked reading too, and gardening.

Draco was enjoying this. Even if Mico wasn't his son, but especially so. He didn't want to leave when Wilkins came back, telling them that Minnie was back. Draco was lost, but it seemed like Mico knew.

"Who's Minnie?" Draco asked Mico when Wilkins left to wait outside.

"Mum. Mickey Mouse Minnie Mouse," Mico expected Draco to know, but instead laughed at his father's confused face. Oddly enough, Draco enjoyed this laughter, at his expense.

"You don't know Mickey?"

"Sorry," Draco shrugged. "Maybe you can tell me more about them on my next visit."

"You're so old," Mico commented on that being a possible reason Draco didn't know the famous character.

Draco smirked a chuckle.

"Well, then I've just got to hang out with you more."

"Promise?"

That wounded Draco.

"Yeah kiddo, I'll see you tomorrow," he fist bumped his son. His first touch of his son, and it was a stupid fist bump. How pathetic Draco Malfoy was.

Wilkins knocked on the door and Draco parted from his son. He half expected to meet his partner on the other side, but no one was waiting to get in.

No matter, Draco now had a hint of a name. Minnie. A Minnie with brown hair. And either so pathetic or so scandalous that Draco one way or the other didn't remember her. He'll have to work on it tonight.