Disclaimer: These characters are not my own. Full credit to JKR. Please be advised that this one-shot will cover the topic of fertility. It was too long to include in my series of one-shots so here you go.
I hope if you enjoy it that you'll leave a review. Thanks!
Not Tonight
"Blasted Ministry lifts," Hermione Granger muttered to herself.
She tapped the toe of one of her sensible heels and balled her hands into fists where they were crossed over her chest. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, her lips moving silently. She was completely unaware when Cormac McLaggen sidled up next to her to wait.
"Long day?"
Her lip curled before her eyes opened. She shot an irritated look at him and barely withheld a shrill shriek as a witch stepped in front of them to enter the lift first when it arrived. They stepped in and each grabbed a handle hanging from the ceiling before the lift shot off to the left.
"I'm running late," she finally responded when the lift dinged for the other witch's floor. She'd taken them entirely off the path Hermione needed to go.
Cormac had the nerve to chuckle but he stopped abruptly when he caught the murderous look in her eyes. He held both hands up, palms out in surrender.
"Sorry." He gestured to the buttons on the lift. "You go first."
Over the last eight years that she'd been working at the Ministry, people had wisely learned not to test her patience on the rare occasion that she was on edge. The few who did found themselves on the dangerous end of her wand and a hex blasted in their direction.
"Thank you," she nodded primly. She reached forward and pressed the button for the atrium. She barely had time to grip her handle again before the lift zoomed backwards before descending.
The door chimed and the gate opened. Hermione stepped out without a backwards glance, already sprinting dangerously in her heels.
Cormac shook his head and leaned forward to choose his desired floor. "Merlin's sack, I don't know how her husband is still alive."
Hermione didn't hear him though or she likely would have turned back and hexed him anyway. She was already to the floos and on the streets of London by the time he reached his floor. She followed the foot traffic at a brisk pace, using her small build to dart around slow walkers whenever possible. The nearest place to apparate was still another two blocks and there was a couple walking side by side in front of her, taking their bloody sweet time.
When the woman giggled inanely and her partner began tickling her side, Hermione finally lost it. "Oh, would you move!"
Startled, they stepped aside and watched as she hurried around them and disappeared around the corner.
Once out of sight, Hermione withdrew her wand from her skirt and struck the air with it. She disappeared with a much louder crack than normal. The gut twisting sensation pulled at her navel as she traveled through time and space and landed smoothly on a clean sidewalk.
The park near Grimmauld Place had been recently renovated and a small quidditch pitch had been installed. She sighed at the sight of it and shook her head. She slowed her pace finally as she approached the back of the stands.
She could hear voices shouting. Parents griping at their children and children crying at the top of their lungs. She cringed as she stopped at the edge of the stands and glanced over the fence.
Young children hovered no more than four feet off the ground on child-sized brooms. She could see some trying to coax their kids into their junior quidditch gear. Others were chasing their children down the scaled down pitch, unable to keep up with their over confident flyer.
Hermione spied Harry and Ginny coaxing their four year old twins onto their brooms, each donning red jerseys for their junior league team. The two boys were grinning from ear to ear and she could hear them babbling about catching the snitch.
Ron wasn't too far away with his own daughter. She could see Ron's face turn a lovely shade of puce when his daughter kept insisting on tying some makeshift charm made of butter beer bottle caps to the end of her broomstick. A glance at the stands told her Luna wasn't the least worried. She sat chatting amiably with Padma and her sister.
Hermione could still strangle the imbecile who'd thought up the junior quidditch league in the first place. She still loathed flying. She'd not been on a broom since the war and insisted that she never would again if she could help it. However, hardly anyone else shared her feelings on the matter.
She scanned the field and spotted Blaise Zabini with his son. He appeared to be giving the boy a lecture on proper flying etiquette. Everywhere she looked was a child with at least one parent trying out their new brooms and gear in preparation for the first games to be held in two weeks' time.
She glanced around until she finally spotted them a bit away from everyone else. He was squatting in front of their daughter who was hovering a mere two feet off the ground. She watched as he carefully positioned both of her hands on the handle of the broomstick and then turned to point across the field. The poor girl looked so nervous that she might lose her lunch at a moment's notice.
Her blonde curls looked to have been pulled back into a messy ponytail that only a father could accomplish. Her daughter reached up with a hand to swipe at a few strands, nearly dislodging her purple glasses in the process. He noticed though and adjusted them on her nose before she could reach for them.
She hadn't a clue why he'd insisted that their daughter try this, beyond his own love for the sport. The girl wasn't exactly naturally graceful, something Hermione feared she likely inherited from her. But she was a delicate thing. She'd been so sick the first year of her life that there had been plenty of moments that they feared they might lose her. It had been a closely guarded secret, much to the Daily Prophet's annoyance. No one would see the girl until she was a toddler and well enough that no one would guess that she'd teetered on the brink of ill health on too many occasions. The memory of his mother haunting the rooms in their house as she worried, but remained otherwise useless, over the girl wasn't ever far from her mind. Her own mother had been more helpful at least.
Hermione sighed as she watched him squat down again to reassure the poor girl. He was smiling in the crooked way he only did to her or their daughter and she felt a pang of emotion bubble in her chest as she watched him. Guilt maybe? He'd been trying to catch her before she disappeared into the floo that morning.
"He's got half the mothers up here swooning. I never would have guessed Draco had it in him."
Hermione whipped around to find Daphne Zabini leaned over the edge of the stands and smiling at her. The blonde shrugged her shoulders and turned her gaze back towards the field.
"She'll be fine, Granger."
Seven years of more formal acquaintance and she was still Granger to his friends instead of Hermione. It was a small comfort really. So many things had changed.
"Right," Hermione sighed.
She trudged onto the field, mindful of her heels in the fresh grass. She cast a charm halfway to them when she sank into the soft earth more than once.
"Mummy," Lyra gave her a toothy smile when she saw her. She lifted a hand from her broom to wave and nearly took a tumble to the side. Her hand snapped back to her broom quickly and her brown eyes widened behind her glasses.
Her own heart jumped into her throat before the girl balanced herself. She was certain she was going to have a stroke before the girl ever stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express.
"I'm sorry I'm late, sweetheart. My meeting ran over," she smiled.
Hermione rested a hand on her husband's shoulder as he glanced up at her and smirked.
"Better late than never, love."
She used her hand on his shoulder to balance herself as she squatted carefully in her skirt. "I'm going to murder Alistair Jones as soon as he gets back in the country. Gallivanting off spending Ministry funds on…" She glanced as Lyra and chose different words. "illicit affairs."
Draco snorted and closed the small space between them to kiss her. Hermione nearly melted under his touch. She was mentally exhausted and he always seemed to know without her saying it.
"Can I get down now, daddy?"
Draco pulled his attention away from his wife and nodded. He stood carefully and helped Lyra lower to the ground so she could rest her feet comfortably on the grass.
"You did great, Lyra. We'll practice a little more tomorrow."
With a wave of her wand, Hermione collected the blasted gear and miniaturized it into her bag to take with them. She lifted their daughter onto her hip when the girl held her arms out to her and they made their way across the pitch.
Harry and Ginny waved as they departed. Ron would have probably waved, too, if he weren't busy chasing his daughter as she flew circles around him. Daphne watched them from the stands, a knowing smirk in place before she yelled across the pitch at Blaise.
They picked up takeout on their way home from one of the restaurants Hermione loved and tucked into it at the dining room table. Hermione took her turn caring for Lyra and helped her cut her meat while Draco ranted about some inane employee he was likely going to fire. She nodded, half listening while Lyra babbled in her other ear about dessert.
"I'll bathe her tonight," Hermione told him once dinner was over.
Draco merely nodded and began clearing the table. She called him up a half hour later when Lyra was freshly scrubbed and waiting to be tucked into bed. Hermione sat at his side while he read her the story of Babbity Rabbity and then a few pages from Winnie the Pooh. She smiled as he changed his voice for different characters and silently marveled at the father he'd become.
Hermione moved to sit next to her daughter on the bed when Draco doused the lights. She took Lyra's glasses from her and placed them safely on her nightstand. The little girl turned to her side and offered her back to her mother. Hermione smiled a little and knew what she wanted.
Draco watched from the darkened doorway while his wife rubbed their daughter's back. He counted each pass of Hermione's hand and tallied the number of sighs before he was certain sleep had finally taken their little girl. He disappeared back down the stairs before her and began the work of cleaning up in the kitchen.
Hermione met him in the kitchen and took up a towel to help dry the dishes. They'd developed a habit of doing it the muggle way some nights, especially when they'd not seen each other much during the week. He'd been out of town the better part of the beginning of the week and she'd been stuck in meetings in the time he'd been back.
"Hermione," Draco started as he placed the last dish in the rack. He turned to face her and crossed his arms. "I need to tell you something before you hear it elsewhere."
She lifted a brow, her eyes trained on the dish in her hands. She had a fair idea of what he was going to tell her.
"Blaise and Daphne are expecting again."
"That's wonderful," she smiled.
It was a hollow smile though. He couldn't even see the tiniest bit of her teeth. They remained hidden behind her closed lips.
Draco ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. "It's okay to be upset, Hermione. We really should talk about this though."
She sighed and flicked her wand to stow the dried dinner plates. "Not tonight, Draco."
He drew a breath in through his nose and held it. He almost nodded until something inside him flickered to life and he turned to block her path. "No."
"No?" she questioned with a glare.
"No, Hermione. If not now, then when? We've been tip-toeing around this for over a year now. I'm sick of it. We're in this bloody marriage together, you know?"
She scoffed, "You think I don't know that, Draco? You think there's a single second of any day that's passed since the muggle doctor confirmed what the healer suspected about me that I don't think about that? Don't insult my intelligence. You'd think after seven years you'd know better."
She stepped around him but he wasn't deterred by her little tirade and instead moved to block her from the stairs. He planted either hand on the banisters and glared down at her.
"No, we're talking about it."
She lifted her hands but dropped them at her sides dramatically. She drew her arms across her chest and shifted her weight to one side. "Alright then. Have it your way. Let's talk about this, Draco. Let's talk about me not being able to get pregnant again. Let's talk about me not being able to give you the second child you wanted. Or let's talk about how it essentially makes me less than female because I can't have more children—both in the eyes of the magical and muggle word. Or maybe we can talk about how because I can't get pregnant again, the Ministry has offered you a chance at a divorce, no consent required on my part."
She spat the last word as if it was poison on her tongue. His eyes widened minutely but he wasn't the boy she'd gone to school with at Hogwarts. He wasn't the boy who'd been branded at sixteen by some vile monster. He wasn't even the man who'd been less than thrilled with his Ministry selected wife when the law had been announced seven years ago.
He was the man who'd bought her an engagement ring even though it wasn't required. The man who insisted he also wear a wedding band because he was her husband and he'd be damned if people didn't know they were married. (He was just a bit jealous she'd later learn.) He was now the man who'd put their rocky past behind them and opted to make love to her on their wedding night instead of just 'fuck her into the mattress' as Theo had oh so helpfully suggested. He was the man who'd decided to pursue her all on his own and essentially woo her into falling in love with him—he claimed because he'd never met another woman who argued with him about magical history the way she did. He was the man who'd been so determined to have a baby that he hoped would look just like her that he never let it bother him that it took nearly two years for her to get pregnant with Lyra.
And he was the man who clearly wasn't backing down. Not with the way he was looking at her. She knew that expression well. He didn't know whether to hug her or throttle her.
Draco shook his head, "Hermione, I told that insipid Ministry barrister to shove the parchment up his arse. I said no to a divorce and I'm more than slightly insulted that you'd even think otherwise."
Hermione turned and padded into their living room. Photos lined the mantle, some moving and some not. They documented various stages of Lyra's life thus far. Her eyes began to water when they fell on the one from her first birthday. Her heart pounded in her chest as she remembered starting the day with their families, glaring at him whenever his mother tried to make some show of being a mother-in-law to her, and had ended with a trip to St. Mungo's where Hermione spent the better part of the night cradling her feverish daughter against her chest while the potions did their work.
"How could I not, Draco? I can negotiate with practically anyone at work. I've brought some of the most stubborn members of the Wizengamot over to my side when I introduced my werewolf rights campaign. I even made Kingsley see reason and barter with the last holdouts supporting the stupid Marriage Law to end it after the first three years. But I can't do the one thing all women are supposed to do. I can't get pregnant again." She huffed a hollow laugh. "I barely got pregnant the first time. Merlin knows we tried enough."
Draco watched one corner of her mouth draw into a slight smirk before it fell just as quickly. Even before they'd fallen in love, he'd not been able to keep his hands off of her. The ruddy papers hadn't been able to stop talking about it but that had been his fault. Too many trips to Diagon Alley and far too many stolen kisses in public.
He sank onto the coffee table in front of her and reached for her hands. She was the strongest person he knew. The most stubborn as well. But she was so delicate under that strength. Her hands, with slender fingers, disappeared between his own. She was nearly a head shorter than him and no matter how much he cooked her high-carb meals, she never seemed to gain any extra weight. Daphne and Ginny absolutely hated her for it.
But her inability to gain weight was related to her condition. And they learned that she'd actually stopped growing at sixteen, possibly before she was finished. She made 5'3" and that was that. The effects of the magic were something that couldn't easily be seen otherwise.
His jaw set in a hard line when he opened his eyes again. "I could kill Dolohov," he muttered. "And my father. Fighting fucking children like barbarians."
She didn't fight him when he pulled her towards him. Draco settled her across his lap. He brushed the hair that she'd let down before dinner away from her face and cupped her cheek.
"Hermione, I need you to understand that I don't care that we can't have a second child. I made that quite clear when I sent that barrister packing. I made it even clearer when I made a personal visit to Kingsley to tell him off for even allowing it to happen in the first place."
He watched as the moisture began to gather in the corners of her eyes but he wasn't done yet. He'd just have to wipe away those tears when they inevitably came. She'd not cried in so long and he felt it was due anyway.
"You are the best fucking thing that's ever happened to me, Hermione Granger. You're stubborn as a damn hippogriff," his lips lifted in a smirk when her mouth twitched into an uncertain smile, "but I refuse to divorce you unless you make me. You gave me one very intelligent and beautiful daughter. And I got my wish. Minus my hair, she looks just like you."
Hermione huffed and the laugh that bubbled in her throat made her choke. "Yes, well, thankfully not the teeth at least."
His smirk grew as he brushed his thumb along her cheek, wiping away the first tear that escaped. "Yes, not the teeth. But I don't care what the world thinks. Your ability to get pregnant doesn't define you as a woman, Hermione. I've wanted to tell you these things since we sat across from the muggle doctor. It's been nearly impossible to corner you long enough to do so."
"I hardly think that's true," she sniffed.
Draco snorted and brushed more tears away. The floodgates were open and she was just going to have to let it out now.
"It is," he insisted with a grin. "Every time I've tried over the last year you've avoided me or seduced me to shut me up. Not that I don't love a good shag in the shower, love, but you make it hard to concentrate when you're snogging me senseless. You know I can't resist you."
She huffed, "I wish that had been the case at Hogwarts. I would have shut you up sooner."
He shook his head, a smirk firmly in place, and his thumb caressed her cheek. They both knew that wouldn't have worked back then.
Hermione gave up and finally folded herself against him. She tucked her head in under his chin and twisted her hands in his shirt as she sniffled against him. His hand began running the length of her spine and her body finally just gave up.
"I'm sorry," she whispered against his neck.
"Stop," he pleaded and pressed his lips to her hair.
"There's something else. I overheard your mother though. She wants you to divorce me. You know she's never really settled on me as your wife."
Draco rolled his eyes and cursed silently. "I don't care what she thinks. We were chosen for each other—got bloody lucky to fall in love with each other after we put our differences aside—and I refuse to give you up. She just doesn't like that you don't concede to traditional female roles."
"She can keep her traditional female roles," Hermione snipped.
He grinned as he pressed another kiss to her temple. "Enough of this, Hermione. I love you just as you are. We have one child and one is plenty."
"I wanted another, too, though," she whispered. She felt horribly selfish for it. They could always adopt and she wasn't opposed but there was some biological allure to procreating with your spouse.
"I know, love," he sighed. "And I'm most upset for you that you don't get what you want. But I really need you to start by letting go of worrying about what anyone else thinks."
Hermione pressed her nose further against his neck and inhaled his scent. She'd told him often that she loved the way he smelled. He always wore the same cologne and teased her that he'd never changed now that he knew how much it intoxicated her.
She pulled a deep breath in through her nose and finally lifted her head. He lifted a hand to her face to wipe her tear-stained cheeks before she could do it herself. Her heart pounded in her chest. She knew her cheeks were likely blotchy and her eyes swollen but he still looked at her the same way he always did.
"I worry over her all day when I'm at work," she confessed. She lifted a hand and brushed her fingertips over his jaw. She'd wanted so badly to have a little boy that looked just like him since he got his wish.
"I know," Draco nodded. "But she's come so far, Hermione. I know she was sick as a baby but that's not your fault. All of the healers and her pediatrician agree. It wasn't because of the damage to your uterus. It was terribly unlucky but she's thriving now."
Hermione lifted a sardonic brow. "Is that why you thought it was such a brilliant idea to sign her up for this stupid little league quidditch rubbish?"
A smile lifted his mouth as he stared at her haughty expression. Her tears were drying now and her dark eyes were glaring at him. He laughed finally and shook his head.
"No, not necessarily. I don't give a rat's arse if she's any good at it or not. She needs to get out and do things with other children."
"She sees Harry and Ron's children all the time."
"Other children," Draco corrected. "I may have fallen head over heels in love with you but that does not extend to your two idiot friends."
"Seven years," she grumbled. "Can't you all get along by now?"
He smirked. "Tell Potter to stop being a twat and return my quaffle he borrowed last year and I'll think about it."
Hermione shook her head and started laughing. She pushed herself out of his lap with his help and took his hand to pull him along with her.
"And let me guess, your issues with Ron are related to the way he empties our refrigerator every time he comes over?"
"And his little brat! I've never seen such a small child eat so many bloody biscuits!"
Hermione stopped when she stood on the first step and turned to face her husband. His grey eyes held a happiness in them that she'd refused to see over the last year. She'd avoided it, sure that it wasn't real.
She placed both hands on either of his cheeks and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her own when he groaned as she pulled away too soon for his liking.
"She is perfect, isn't she?" she asked of their daughter.
Draco met her searching look and nodded. "There's no way she couldn't be, Hermione. She's ours."
She laughed and began ascending the stairs with his encouragement. "Arrogant git."
"Annoying confident," he corrected.
Hermione smiled as she climbed the stairs ahead of him. There would be no more hiding behind her grief after this. Not tonight.