Hello all! This is a prequel to my story Vines and Thorns. It is a Dramione work, despite the misleading title. Set between DH and the epilogue. Hope you enjoy and that it makes some sort of sense.
The Making of Hugo
Hermione was neck deep in paper work, sitting hunched over her old wooden desk when her magical intercom buzzed. She looked up, focusing on the little speaker.
"Mrs. Weasley, you have a delivery," her new assistant announced a bit nervously.
She groaned a bit, carefully moving the letter she was writing as not to smear the wet ink, and then went next door. Her assistant, Stacy, was young and blond, and she had only been working here for a week, ever since her last assistant moved to Spain with her new husband. "I told you, Stacy, call me Hermione, please." Being called Mrs. Weasley still irked her to no end, and it had been nearly a year since she had 'married'.
The girl blushed. "I'm sorry, Hermione." Then she gestured to a gigantic vase on her desk. "These just arrived for you."
The flowers were massive in size, huge white and red roses, surrounded by a flock of green foliage. She smiled a bit, reaching for the card in the center of them. It said two words, Happy Birthday, in curly green letters. Her smile widened, she didn't need a name to tell her who these were from.
Feeling the first onset of tears, she hoisted the vase, and hurriedly retreated towards her office. Stacy called her back, "Mrs. We-Hermione! You forgot the package!"
Package? She hadn't seen a package! But when she turned, the blond held out a tiny box wrapped in shiny blue paper. Hermione shifted her grasp of the vase until she freed one of her hands, then she snatched the box away.
She kicked the office door closed, quickly cleared a spot for the roses on her low bookshelf, and sank into her chair. The paper ripped off with one small tug, revealing a jewelry box from a shop she had never heard of. When she pulled the lid off, Hermione gasped at the necklace inside. The piece was shiny and new, made of pure white gold, and had emeralds and diamonds encrusted in the heart shaped locket.
Unsnapping the tiny heart, she smiled down at the tiny portraits inside. "Do you like it?" someone asked suddenly, and Hermione snapped her head up, coming face to face with the same man from the picture.
"Draco!" she said in shock. She hadn't seen him in several months. She'd also missed him greatly.
"Well?" he asked, a playful smirk played over his lips. "What do you think of the locket?"
She blushed slightly, glancing back at the cold metal in her hand. "It's beautiful, Draco. Thank you."
He reached down, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. "Here, let me put it on," he suggested, holding out his hand.
Her eyes sparkled. "I don't think it will look very good on you, I'm afraid." Then she laughed.
He laughed at her feeble joke, snatching the jewelry from her instead. He unclasped the necklace, and moved to hold it around her as she lifted her thick hair. It snapped in place, and he trailed the tips of his fingers over the back of her neck.
She hummed her appreciation, before opening her eyes. "Draco, we can't keep doing this," she told him.
Draco continued to dance over her bare skin, driving her mad. "Have you missed me?" he asked. He always asked her that.
"Of course," she answered immediately. "Always."
"You don't write me anymore," he stated, not looking for an answer. It was true, Draco had been writing to her since last June, but she had stopped responding sometime in March, soon after Rose was born. Hermione sighed, reaching behind her and pulling his fingers away from her neck. "Have a happy birthday, Hermione."
"Draco," she started, but he was already moving towards the door.
He didn't turn, but she saw his shoulders slump a bit, defeated. When the door closed sharply behind him, she sank back in her chair, tears starting to flow from her eyes. Hermione placed her hands over her face, willing herself to stay quiet. She couldn't have Stacy running in on her.
Silent sobs wracked her body for a while, but she eventually made herself calm down. Placing a hand over the heart shaped locket, she gathered her nerves. Then Hermione wiped her eyes, and willed herself forward.
She didn't look at the girl in the other room, or any of her coworkers in the other offices, no, she kept her eyes trained on the path ahead. It had only been ten minutes, and Hermione hoped that he had some other business to attend to before he departed. She needed to find him.
His best friend, Blaise, worked on the third floor, two floors below her, so that would be her first place to check. She stepped off the lift quickly; pressing passed three other people trying to get off at the same time. Hermione rounded a corner to one of the mostly empty halls on this floor, and there she spotted him. He was leaning against one wall, one foot placed on the smooth wall. She thought he looked tired.
Blaise was on the other side of the hall, shaking his head and looking a bit sour. "I have to get back to work, mate," he said, shoving his hands into the deep pockets of his robes. "Oh, and Pansy wants to know if you'll be over for dinner tonight."
The blond shrugged. "I suppose. Mother and Father left for Italy this morning, anyway." Blaise started to say something else, but Draco cut him off. "And I'll bring Scorpius."
The other man nodded, and turned to the other end of the hall, headed back to his office. "Hello, Hermione." Apparently she hadn't been as sneaky as she'd hoped.
She opened her mouth, just as he turned to look at her. He saw the redness around her eyes and nose, the splotchy areas on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Draco."
He came to her, pulling her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head gently. Hermione looked up at him slowly, tear streaks and smeared make-up on her cheeks.
"Please don't cry," he whispered, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb.
Hermione laughed suddenly, shaking her head. She looked away from his steely gaze, and whispered, "All I do is cry."
"Hey," he replied back, pulling her around to face him. "Hermione…"
She searched his face, before locking eyes. He looked so very sad, mirroring the pain she felt, but his pain wasn't tortured by secrets. She was hiding from him, hiding from the world, and she had never felt so ashamed. Hermione knew it didn't matter, she could be ashamed until the day she died, but right now she had to do what was best for her little girl, protect her from a life of turmoil and being shoved from one home to the next, or worse, being ripped away completely.
She suppressed a shutter, now was not the time to think on such things. Instead she delved into the coil of desire and buried passion that was nestled in her stomach. She reached for him, tracing a hand over his chest and shoulders, it was all the invitation he needed.
He pressed her back against the wall, eagerly snatching up her partially open lips. They fought for control, becoming frenzied. In a matter of moments she was being lifted by her backside, her skirt riding up as she wound her legs around his waist. She could feel his need as surely as she felt her own, and didn't object to his roaming hands, letting hers do the same. Hermione moaned as he used his able hands to touch her in all her special areas, places he remembered from their short rendezvous.
Things were quickly getting out of hand, and having no desire to be caught in the hallway, she took her first opportunity to stop him. "Wait," she gasped as he released her lips and moved to her neck. "Draco… stop…"
She untangled her hands from his hair and shoved against his shoulders. He looked up at her, puzzlement dancing in the silver orbs. "Not in the hallway!" she halfheartedly scowled him; after all, she had no desire to stop herself. She glanced around the empty space, hoping to find a more private location. A bit deeper into the building was a supply closet, half hidden in shadow. Hermione pointed in the direction, as she tried to untangle the rest of her body.
Draco's grip tightened, keeping her from escaping. Instead he carried her to the destination, past three rows of office doors. When no one came out to see what was going on, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. They reached the closet, and with the click of the latch, they were plunged into darkness.
The closet wasn't large, but they didn't require much space. A simple spell locked the door against intruders, and another contained all of the noise she would probably generate. The same slip of wood that separated them from the rest of the Ministry became her brace as Draco continued unceremoniously where he had left off. Shielded, Hermione was eager to help, and set about undoing his tie and buttons.
It didn't take long for both of them to shed their shirts and robes, Hermione bra lay forgotten on the floor, and in their progress she had lost a shoe to the darkness. Draco removed his pants and boxers as well, but seemed a bit stuck when it came to the rest of her clothes.
She arched back against the door as his fingers slid over her most intimate regions, even with the damp fabric separating them. Desperate for more contact, but unwilling to release her, Draco grabbed the thin fabric of her knickers, and with a sharp tug, let them fall to the floor below. All forms of foreplay ended as he plunged into her, locking their bodies together.
Later, as the waves of pleasure wracked her body, Draco spent himself inside of her. He rested his head next to hers, forehead pressed into the wood. All was quiet, except for their heavy panting. As her body relaxed, a surge of panic rushed to her head, and had she not been so sated, she might have jumped out of her skin. She felt it.
Perhaps it was a form of intuition, or an instinct buried deep in her brain, but she knew. It was a very odd feeling, more in her head than anywhere else, but it was a powerful realization. Months of being apart did nothing but urge them back together, and the reasons she had disappeared danced in front of her half closed eyes. She had been trying to save her baby, and instead she had just allowed a second to take root inside of her.
The thought made her want to cry out again, and at the same time she wanted to smile. Another baby. She could picture it in her head, and sent out a silent hope that this one would be a boy.
When they finally broke apart they stared at each other. Twin looks of hurt. Forcing herself not to cry, Hermione raised herself on her toes and pressed her swollen lips to his. She put all of her emotions into that kiss, the pain, the sadness, the anger and longing, and she used it in both thankfulness and guilt.
She hoped that one day things would be different, that someday they could truly be together. But that day was far away, if it ever came to be, and she had to content herself with the present. He reluctantly let her go, and they dressed in silence.
Hermione left first, eyeing him over her shoulder. He gave her a sad smile in return. Her hand went absentmindedly to the lower portion of her belly, and she smiled back, before heading back to her office, two floors above.