House: Gryffindor
Position: HoH
Category: Short (Overcoming the Odds)
Prompt: Freak Snowstorm
Word Count (excluding header and AN): 1826
Beta: Shiba and Tigger
AN- I listened to "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers on repeat while I wrote this. As much as I wanted to have Draco fall down at Hermione's door as the lyrics dictate, it seemed too undignified for him. Enjoy!
The wireless crackled and popped in the corner of the Grimmauld Place study.
"We have magic," Ron griped. "You'd think someone would have come up with a better wireless system that isn't affected by inclement weather."
"Inclement weather? Mate, this is the storm of the century," Harry said and looked out the window. The snow was piled so high that it completely blocked the first floor windows, and the storm showed no signs of stopping.
"The storm of the century," drawled Draco, "Which has kept me locked up in this shabby house with only you two for company for the last two days."
"You didn't have to come at all," Ron sneered.
In the six years since the war had ended, Draco had evolved from the boy he had been. Sure, he still believed he was superior to almost everyone, but that was now because of his abilities, not his lineage. His eyes were finally opened to the consequences of his blind prejudice and he could no longer continue as he was.
His father had been sent to Azkaban for a long list of war crimes, but Draco and his mother had been spared due to their actions in assisting Harry in his ultimate victory. Free from the controlling rule of his father, his mother was finally able to live her life the way she wanted to.
The first thing that Narcissa had done after the dust settled was contact her estranged sister, Andromeda. Their initial reunion had been icy, but things slowly improved. Four months later, Andromeda had invited Draco along for tea so that she could finally meet her only nephew.
The visit had been going well until the Floo roared to life and Harry bloody Potter stepped through.
Harry and Draco stared at each other, both itching to draw their wands when Andromeda broke the tension.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, would you two knock it off!" she ordered.
When Draco and Harry both relaxed, she explained the situation. Harry was the godfather of Teddy, Draco's second cousin, and often popped by to visit the child. Draco would be visiting with his mother as well and if the two men's visits ever happened at the same time, they were just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.
Properly chastised, Harry and Draco both agreed to Andromeda's edict and studiously ignored each other for the next few months.
Their silent truce lasted until Harry confronted Draco one day by the Floo.
"Want to get a pint?"
"With you?" Draco replied. When Harry scowled, Draco said, "Yeah, sure."
In the back of the Hog's Head pub - Draco still wasn't allowed to set foot in The Three Broomsticks after placing Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse in his sixth year - Draco and Harry talked over a few pints and a plate of greasy chips and began a tentative friendship.
Initially, the majority of Harry's friends did not understand it at all. Ron had wanted to send Harry to St. Mungo's to be tested for curses. George had called Harry a traitor for associating with one of the people who had killed Fred.
But Hermione had accepted it.
Draco couldn't believe that someone who he had specifically sought to destroy could be so forgiving, but that was Hermione for you. And it was one of the first things about her that Draco grew to like. Soon, like turned to affection, affection turned to adoration, and adoration turned to love.
Against all odds, Draco Lucius, pureblood heir to both the Malfoy line and the House of Black, fell in love with Hermione Jean, the muggle-born daughter of two dentists.
Which lead him to tonight.
Ron sneered at Draco and Draco returned the favor. The two men were able to tolerate one another now and there was a limited risk of hexes flying, but they were far from best mates.
"Hermione wanted me to come visit Harry. We were going to have a poker night, but that plan went tits up when this freak snow storm blew in. And now I've been stuck with you for the last two days when I'd much rather be home, warm in bed with my pregnant wife."
Ron scowled. Draco suppressed a smile. Ron was outrageously jealous that Hermione had fallen in love and married Draco instead of him. No matter how many times Hermione pointed out how disastrous a relationship with Ron would have been, he swore that they would have been perfect together if "bloody ferret face hadn't gotten in the way."
Harry, sensing an argument brewing, cut off Ron's retort. "Why don't we go fix up some dinner? We can play a few rounds of cards afterwards and turn in for the night. The wireless said that this storm is supposed to clear out sometime around 2am, so you should be set to return home when we wake up. OK?"
Grumbling, Ron agreed to Harry's plan and set off for the kitchen.
"Maybe next time, can you try to not antagonize him?" Harry pleaded.
Draco arched his eyebrow. "He's just too easy." When Harry shot him a nasty look, Draco raised his hands in a motion of surrender. "Alright, alright. I just wish he'd stop looking at me as the enemy as far as Hermione's concerned. He treats me like a thief who stole his prize out from under his nose. Hermione's not some trophy. I love her and for some insane reason, she loves me too."
Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "I know mate. I know. Now let's go get some food before Ron devours it all."
Laughing, Draco followed Harry down the narrow hallways of the old London townhouse. When he was at the kitchen door, a ball of bright light crashed through the ceiling and landed on the table. All three men's heads snapped to attention as a ghostly otter took shape.
"Draco," Hermione's voice panted from the otter's mouth. "The baby is, ooooh, oh, OW OW OWWW. The baby is coming. I can't get to St. Mungo's in this storm. Your mother is here. Draco, I-" her voice cracked. "I wish you were here."
With that, the Patronus dissipated into thin air. For a moment, Draco just stared at the spot where it had been, feeling like his stomach had plummeted to his feet.
"Hermione," he whispered.
"Mate," Harry said in a shaky voice. "It's going to be alright."
"I need to get to her," Draco said, snapping out of his stupor and trying to formulate a plan.
"You can't apparate straight out of the house. There are wards on this place that prevent that and Hermione is the one who set them up. Without her here, we can't take them down. And the floo network is deactivated during extreme weather events."
"Then I'll walk!" Draco declared.
"You can't get out the door," Ron pointed out. "The snow is completely burying the first story of the house."
"I'll fly. Harry, can I borrow your broom?"
"You can't fly in this storm, Draco. You'll never make it. The winds are more than blizzard speed and the snow is so thick that you won't be able to see three feet in front of your face. You'll never be able to navigate to Wiltshire."
Draco snarled and was about to declare that he knew his way home, when Ron said, "You might not be able to get to Wiltshire. But you can get to Hermione."
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco asked. "Hermione is in Wiltshire."
Ron withdrew a small metal object from his pocket. Harry drew in a breath. "I'm talking about this." Ron handed the object to Draco. "This is a Deluminator. Dumbledore left it to me because he knew I'd need help finding my way. I don't really know how it works, but if you concentrate on the person you want to find, you'll hear their voice in your heart and this will help guide you to them."
Draco's eyes bulged and he glanced from the device in his hand to Ron, back to the device, and finally to Harry.
"He's right," Harry affirmed.
"Why are you giving this to me? Why are you helping me?" Draco asked.
"I may not like you very much," Ron agreed, "But I love Hermione. And right now, Hermione needs you."
Draco heard the sincerity in Ron's voice and nodded. The two men were not friends and may never be. But Ron was willing to set aside more than a decade of ill will for the sake of the woman that they both loved. That in itself was a steep hurdle that had been overcome.
Rushing up to the third floor with Harry behind him, Draco ran into his bedroom and grabbed his bag. Harry handed over his Firebolt and Draco leapt out a window into the frigid snowglobe of London.
Draco clasped the broom handle with one icy hand and clicked the Deluminator with the other. He allowed thoughts of Hermione to fill his heart. Pictures of the girl she had been and the woman she had become flitted through his mind. Memories of the life that they had built together in spite of astronomical odds, warmed his soul.
And then he heard it.
"Draco."
"Hermione, I'm coming for you," he promised the storm.
"Draco," her voice whispered once more.
The Deluminator glowed in his hand and cast a lighted path through the snowy night. Draco lowered himself so he was streamlined with the broom and flew.
"She's beautiful," his mother cooed as she held her new granddaughter hours later.
Draco pressed a light kiss onto Hermione's damp forehead.
He'd barely made it back to Malfoy Manor in time for his daughter's entrance into the world. His mother nearly passed out from shock when Draco burst through the door looking like a yeti, but he'd barely noticed her.
His sole focus was Hermione. She was sweating, panting, and swearing a blue streak but he was certain that she'd never looked more beautiful. He told her as much as he slid beside her and grasped her hand.
Hermione held out her arms and his mother dutifully placed the baby in her embrace. "She looks just like you," Hermione said as she gazed down at their perfect little creation.
Draco memorized every detail. "I think she looks just like you."
His mother cut added, "She's the perfect combination of both of you."
The sleeping child lying in her mother's arms represented everything that should have been impossible.
Draco Lucius Malfoy could have spent the rest of his life rotting away in a cell in Azkaban. He should never have become friends with Harry bloody Potter. He should never have fallen in love with Hermione Jean Granger. They should have never had a child together.
The odds were stacked against them.
But what are odds in the face of the perfect imperfection that is life.