Dawn
She woke abruptly from a deep sleep and held her breath in the darkness of their bedroom, wondering what had roused her. A sharp kick from inside her swollen belly eased her mind and she exhaled with relief. She hadn't been jerked so suddenly into consciousness since those bleak, tedious months spend in a tent with only Harry and a horcrux for company, and for a moment she'd allowed herself to believe that Dark magic had penetrated their home. Of course, since the end of the war there had be no Death Eater activity, not openly at least, but she supposed it was only natural that an element of that constant fear remained in those who had experienced it.
She knew for a fact that Ron, too, was occasionally plagued with painful memories, having been woken many times by his recurring nightmare of strangulation by the brains in the Department of Mysteries. She never mentioned these incidents to her husband, but had confided in Ginny who, in turn, had admitted that Harry often tossed and turned, drenched in cold sweat and muttering about Sirius and the veil.
The cold, grey light of very early morning filtered in through a chink in the curtains and Hermione knew she would not be able to fall back to sleep easily. A resounding snore from her left decided the matter and she pushed back her side of the duvet, sitting up on the mattress gingerly and swinging her legs down to the floor. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she felt a movement behind her and glanced over her shoulder. One arm raised above his head and a foot protruding from under the covers, Ron breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling steadily as he continued sleeping. She smiled fondly and had to resist a sudden urge to lean across and stroke his untidy ginger hair. He was difficult to wake at the best of times, but if she managed to disturb him at this hour, a pillow and a few colourful expletives would fly in her direction.
Lurching to her feet, she swayed for a moment, the weight of her stomach, still unfamiliar after eight months, temporarily unbalancing her. Treading as quietly as possible across the room, she pulled the door open and gripped the banister as she made her way down the stairs.
The kitchen was bathed in a soft, orange glow as the sun began to rise over the crest of a nearby hill. Hermione shuffled to the sink and poured herself a glass of water, sipping it slowly as she looked out of the large window onto their rather unkempt garden.
It was funny, really, she thought.
This house resembled the Weasley family home in so many ways, it was even within walking distance of Ottery St Catchpole, but as a child visiting The Burrow all those years ago she had never imagined she'd end up in a place so similar to it. It hadn't been her choice to live here, so close to the rest of the Weasleys, but now that her parents were connected to the Floo Network the distance was hardly an issue, and Godric's Hollow was only a grate or two away should she want to visit the Potters.
Setting her glass down on the work surface, she brushed her hair out of her eyes and watched the first of the gnomes creep into the garden. Her mind instantly transported her back to another day when she'd helped de-gnome another garden with Harry and Ron. She laughed quietly as she remembered the countless arguments and bitter silences between her and the youngest male Weasley (for now, she corrected herself, with a hand on her stomach). Little did her eleven year old self know that she would marry that tall, awkward red-headed boy with dirt on his nose on the Hogwarts Express.
Reaching for one of Ron's knitted jumpers resting on a kitchen chair, she wrapped it around her shoulders, inhaling that certain undefinable scent which was his.
If Lavender could see me know, I wonder if she'd feel the same envy that was so obvious when we officially became a couple, Hermione pondered. She'd seen Ron's first girlfriend shopping in Diagon Alley, accompanied by Parvati, a few weeks ago and noticed the way Lavender's eyes slid over her, noticing the thin gold band around her finger, before turning away hurriedly.
That hadn't been the only uncomfortable coincidental meeting with a former Hogwarts student. There had been that time during a meal out with Harry and Ginny when someone had bumped into their table, knocking the wine bottle over. Cho had been apologetic, but rather aloof and purposefully not meeting Harry's eye. The second time Hermione had seen her she had a different man in tow and had strode passed her, unseeing.
Even after all they had been through together, it seemed that the inevitable flow of time had managed to pull them apart. Of Dean and Seamus, she knew nothing, but Neville was always willing to meet up, as was Luna.
A month ago she'd had a chance encounter with someone she had looked forward to never having to see again.
The Ministry had been thronging with people as usual, although most had stepped to the side as she, heavily pregnant, made her way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Witches, wizards and flying memos flooded in after and just before the gate closed, an unmistakable figure slipped into the lift. As they were carried to the various floors, the other occupants trickled out until she was left alone in a very small space with none other than Draco Malfoy.
He stood rigidly upright, his grey eyes staring fixedly in front of him, so Hermione was able to sneak a few sideways glances at him. She noted how although he looked remarkably like his father, despite having far shorter hair, he didn't appear as haughty and contemptuous as Lucius had been.
"Haven't you anything better to do than stare at me, Granger?"
His tone was as condescending as it always had been, and she struggled for a moment to think of a come back.
"I was just surprised to see you here....."
Her voice trailed off as he continued looking straight ahead, as if she was of no more importance than a flying memo. The silence fell heavily between them and with a ping the gate slid open and she stepped out, thankful that she could escape such an awkward situation. Her relief, however, was short-lived as Draco strode out and walked in the same direction. When it appeared they were making for the same office, Hermione racked her brains for something suitable to say, anything that would –
"So, the weasel got you pregnant."
His voice broke into her thoughts and she glared up at him as they made their way along the corridor.
"Don't call him that and yes, this is Ron's child."
Against his black, high collared robes, Draco's skin looked paler than ever, but she remembered with satisfaction how she had once turned that white cheek red when she'd slapped him during their third year.
"Well, congratulations." He drawled.
She couldn't detect any sarcasm in his voice, but he still refused to look in her direction.
"Er, thanks."
Draco abruptly stopped walking and rested his hand on the door handle of one of the office doors, saying,
"It's been a pleasure meeting you, but I must leave you here."
Again there didn't seem to be an insult in his words and, taken aback, she replied,
"Yes, it was unexpected, but........."
He turned to open the office door and she felt a sudden urge to continue talking with him.
"Draco, I........"
The words died in the throat as his head whipped around at the mention of his given name, his eyes narrowing. She swallowed and realised with embarrassment that she was nervous, actually nervous about speaking to him. Unable to maintain the eye contact, she lowered her gaze and continued in a murmur.
"I hope you're well, after everything that's happened."
The words sounded feeble to her own ears, but she noticed with surprise that his eyes had widened slightly, no longer fixing her with a basilisk glare. Draco cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, answering in a voice no louder than hers,
"I am, thank you. I trust you are."
It was a statement, not a question and he raised his head again, regaining the composure he had lost for an instant and nodded slightly before opening the office door and leaving her alone outside. Hermione had stood there, her brow furrowed, until the lift gate had opened again and a swarm of people made their way down the corridor.
She stood at the sink now, her expression just as puzzled as then. He had been her mortal enemy, had shouted insults and tried to make life hell for her all through the years at Hogwarts and yet she'd managed to have a polite exchange, it couldn't be called a conversation, with him. She found herself wondering what he had been doing since the Hogwarts Battle and the fall from grace that had reduced the Malfoy name to nothing more than a byword for cowardice and disloyalty. She remembered reading a small article in the Daily Prophet a while ago, announcing the marriage between Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott, so it looked like Draco had lost the one person everyone thought he would marry.
It was odd and rather unnerving to feel a sudden wave of sympathy towards someone who had embodied all the prejudices she had struggled against, but the fact that behind that cold exterior he was probably as lonely as she'd be without Ron touched her. Perhaps he'd find someone, she hoped so more than she cared to admit, even to herself, and then have a son just like him, with a ridiculous name. Imagine if they met again on the Platform 9 and ¾, with his son boarding the train at the same time as her child.
Another sharp kick brought her immediately back to the present and she cupped her hands around her stomach, smiling slightly as she made her way back up to her bedroom and to Ron.