A/N: Hello all! I know that I've been absent for a long while, and I should, logically, be working on the fic that I've, essentially, abandoned, but I'm nothing if not a procrastinator, so, enjoy, and I'll try to work on Life After Weasley.
Hermione declined the concerned, yet loving, invitation to spend Christmas week at the cozy Weasley home as respectfully as she could. The war aftermath had slowly chipped away at the 'Golden Trio' until only a slight affection remained between Hermione and the two boys. She, instead, turned to the loving arms of the only remaining Malfoy, and somehow managed to maintain a healthy relationship, even with all of her emotional baggage.
Now, however, she sat curled in her bathtub with a bottle of sparkling cider, staring at the falling snow and reflecting on what could have been. She was alone, like she never had been before. Well, almost alone. Her hand absentmindedly drifted down to her womb, a silent reassurance that her baby was still safe. She was barely showing, which was just as well, since only her OB-GYN knew of her pregnancy. Tears streamed down her face as she remembered.
She danced around, barely containing her excitement as she put the finishing touches on the dinner she had prepared for her wonderful boyfriend. It was time to tell him, as she had confirmed the pregnancy just two days ago. Her pale blue dress swirled around her as she wondered what he would think when she told him.
The soft jingle of keys announced Draco's arrival, and the door opened to show her tall adonis of a boyfriend, and she grinned and rushed towards him. Hermione's face fell as Draco removed her arms from around him with a pained look. Without any explanation, he quickly packed his bags as she stood distraught in the kitchen.
He was gone within the hour.
Oh Merlin, how she missed the way the sunlight glinted off of his hair in the summertime, the way he would smile his adorable lopsided smile, the way his hair smelled after a shower. Thus, her office at the Ministry was both enjoyable and heart wrenching. She could notice all of those wonderful things about him, but the one thing she didn't want to notice (but did quite often) was the way that he seemed emotionally stable, and perhaps even happier than before his relationship with Hermione had started. She knew, too, that he'd more than moved on. Idle hands at the Ministry often meant gossip, so news of the renewed relationship between Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy had spread quickly.
The brunette scoffed at the thought. He deserved better than the likes of Greengrass. Hermione had heard how she was a gold-digging whore with negligible intelligence. Though she didn't often put stock in rumors, the situation made it acceptable. She felt a new wave of sobs threaten to surface and she shook her head as to remove the unwanted emotions. She couldn't spend her life in despair; she had clients to represent in court and appearances to uphold, and, she was out of sparkling cider.
Wiping her eyes, Hermione carefully climbed out of her sanctuary, just remembering to grab her wand and her mobile before leaving the flat. Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, the witch carefully made her way to the nearby market, fully intending to buy them out of cider. On her way back to her flat, her mobile abruptly rang. Sighing, the brunette carefully placed her cargo on the ground before answering the call.
"Yes?" she answered.
"Hello, Ms. Granger," came the disembodied voice, "I'm calling because a Mr. Malfoy has been admitted to the spell damage floor at St. Mungo's."
Hermione went stiff as she snapped, "Why are you calling me, then,"
The voice continued, though obviously shaken by the venom in Hermione's voice, "Well … it's just that … um …" she stumbled, "You're on his contacts. You know, for when … for when people get hurt,"
That detail had, evidently, escaped Hermione's attention before now.
"Fuck," came the unbidden epithet.
"Yes, well, you're the only one on his list, so unless you can tell us who else to call, we need you to come down immediately,"
"Of course," the brunette witch breathed. Quickly she hung up and gathered up her cider to prepare for apparation. Not half a second later she reappeared in the lobby of St. Mungo's. Without faltering, she strode toward the fourth floor, discretely casting a location spell to find where Draco was being treated.
When she got there, however, she stopped in her tracks. Outside of the closed door were two grim-faced Aurors. Belatedly she realised that they were quite young. Shaking her head, she attempted to walk past them, but one reached out an arm to stop her.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't let you go in there." said the taller one.
Indignant, Hermione visibly bristled, "And why ever not?" she replied with all the authority she could muster, drawing herself up to her full height.
"Well, ma'am, there's a dangerous criminal in there,"
"Excuse me?" she said, shaking with fury.
"Yes, ma'am, that's right," the Auror confirmed, oblivious to the sheer rage emanating from the witch next to him.
Subconsciously, Hermione supposed that she shouldn't embarrass the Auror in a public, somewhat somber, setting, but, for the sake of her child and Draco, she needed to teach the vile, hypocritical, assholes a lesson.
In a deceptively calm voice, she started, "You should be ashamed of yourselves. How dare you punish him for something that he had no control over. His only fault is that he had the misfortune to be born into a terrible family, and for you to suggest that he is a criminal?" she paused, barely containing her temper. By now the pair of Aurors, who, in retrospect were very obviously just out of training, seemed to realise the enormity of the decision that they'd made.
"That man in there has been punished beyond belief for something that happened when he was a child. And tonight, he was the one injured. Do you mean to tell me that he landed himself in St. Mungo's because he attacked someone?" she let out a sharp bark of laughter, "No fucking way, asshole. If Draco Malfoy attacked someone, there is no way in hell that he would have been injured beyond belief. The only logical explanation is that someone attacked him and you blithering fools decided that he was at fault."
Breathing hard now, she finished, "Get the fuck out of my way, or when I report this incident to your boss, I swear to God I will make sure you get fired with a permanent reprimand on your file."
Gulping, the pair quickly moved, apparently unprepared for the this turn of events.
Satisfied, Hermione finally rushed into the room where a vaguely amused Healer was waiting.
"Hello Ms. Granger," the Healer said with a small smirk.
Not one for pleasantries, especially with Draco lying pale on the bed beside her, Hermione asked without preamble, "What's wrong with him?"
"It's nothing too serious, just some minor spell damage. He'll be unconscious for a few hours, and he'll wake up aching, but it's my professional opinion that we successfully eradicated and lingering curses," the Healer replied firmly, "when he does wake up, we'll need your signature to discharge him and then you can bring him home. When the time comes, I'll go over the procedure with you."
"Thank you," Hermione replied, a little less anxious now. The Healer nodded and quietly left the room. Finally putting down her shopping bag, Hermione settled into the armchair next to the bed to wait.
A few hours later, a groan from the bed woke her. Hurriedly, she rushed to the bed, and when tears threatened as her eyes met Draco's grey ones, well, she tried not to notice.
"Hey sweetheart," she whispered, "you're in St. Mungo's. You were unconscious for a few hours."
Groaning, the blond pushed himself into a sitting position.
"Oh good," he sighed, "So I didn't fuck up my life and break up with you?"
Hermione froze. Of all the things that she had expected to happen when Draco saw her here, this was not one of them.
"Um," she paused, "you did. A few months ago, actually."
"Fuck," he said warily.
An unbidden smile came to Hermione's face as she fondly recalled Draco's love of vulgar language. It was one of the first things that had brought them together.
"I'm just here to discharge you," she said, "I'll be out of your hair after that."
She turned, intending to go get a Healer.
"Hermione, wait."
She sighed, unwilling to subject herself to the pain of being near him any longer.
"Draco, whatever it is, I don't want to hear it," she continued, "What happened happened. It's okay. You don't have to feel guilty."
"But it's not okay, Hermione," he replied emphatically. She sighed again, reluctantly turning.
"What do you mean, Draco,"
"I made a mistake," he whispered, "I … I should've fought for you, but I've always been a coward, and I .. I'm sorry," he finished lamely.
She scoffed.
"What do you mean, Draco? There was no opportunity for you to fight for me. You were the one who left me, heartbroken and pregnant. Not the other way around,"
"What?" he replied
Fuck. She'd forgotten, in her anger, and let her mouth run.
"You're pregnant?"
"Yes, Draco, I'm pregnant. But it doesn't matter now because you left me for Astoria."
This was good. Anger was far better than tears. It gave her the strength to leave the room. Unfortunately, Draco was just as stubborn as she was.
"Hermione stop. That night," he hedged, "When I was walking home from the Ministry, some men accosted me. They told me that it should be illegal for … for people like me to be a part of society. And they … they told me that if I didn't leave that they would kill both of us," he finished quietly, "I was so scared Hermione. I love you so much, and the thought of anything happening to you because of me is just awful."
Hermione walked over to his side.
"Why didn't you tell me? I'm a fucking lawyer you idiot. I have connections in the Auror office," she replied, "Merlin, I can't believe how much of a dumbass you are,"
"I know. But I'm a dumbass who loves you," he began.
"Don't you start with me," she warned. Despite her tone, she smiled softly and accepted a kiss from the blond.
"Hermione?" Draco asked.
"Hm?"
"Why do you have sparkling cider?"
She smiled and shook her head, turning to get the discharge papers.
And if she stole another kiss before leaving, well, that was irrelevant.