Summary: Draco and Hermione are having their first baby. What comes with childbirth? A waiting room full of friends and family, shrieks omitting from the delivery room and a few hours later, the much awaited arrival of their little one. AU, fluffy. Rated T for mild swearing. Dramione.

1.

"DRACO FUCKING MALFOY!" a loud Hermione Granger-Malfoy could be heard to be screaming. "I'll never let you touch me again. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU BLOODY ARSE!"

Ginny Potter jumped at the sound of her friend's screech. "Is this how childbirth's supposed to be?" she fearfully whispered to the cluster of people gathered outside the hospital room, in the maternity ward.

Molly Weasley nodded solemnly. "It's awfully painful, dear", she replied to her daughter. Of course she'd know, seeing how she'd given birth to more than a handful of children.

Pansy Parkinson winced slightly and took a few steps back from everyone else. "Poor Hermione", she said with a shudder. "I can't imagine how she's feeling right now."

"I can", answered Narcissa Malfoy solemnly, "and trust me, it isn't pleasant in any form of speaking." She took a peek at her watch, wondering when her husband would arrive; it'd been almost eight hours since Hermione went into labour and Lucius still wasn't here.

Planning to wring his neck if he didn't arrive in time, Narcissa mentally gave him another fifteen minutes before she was going to send one of Draco's friends after the man.

How highly inappropriate of him to be cooped up in his office while their son was about to become a father.

"I feel more sorry for Malfoy", exclaimed Harry, taking a glance at the door. "Poor bloke."

"Poor bloke?" repeated Pansy, her voice rising an octave. "Are you shitting me? Aren't you supposed to be Granger's best friend?"

"Language", reprimanded Narcissa, although she seemed to be staring daggers at the Boy Who Lived as well. "My daughter-in-law is excused for today, seeing how she's giving birth to my grandchild but as for you, Pansy, it is unbecoming for a young lady of your age to speak in such horrid tones."

"Sorry", murmured the former Slytherin girl as she shamefacedly turned to face the Malfoy matriarch. Then she whipped over to take a glance at Harry, "Draco doesn't have to do anything right now. All he's doing is holding his wife's hand and that's all. She's the one who's pushing a baby out of her-"

"That's enough", Ginny looked slightly green. She wobbled over to a seat and plopped down, rubbing her seven and a half months' pregnant belly. Suddenly she was truly frightened at the prospect of giving birth; how in Merlin's name would she survive the agony? It clearly seemed to be unbearable and was proof enough of how big of a liar her sister-in-law, Fleur, seemed to be. According to her, it was a slightly painful process. 'Eet was not zat bad' were her exact words, weren't they?

Harry swallowed. "I suppose you have a point, Parkinson", he said before rushing over to his wife.

"I always do", said Pansy triumphantly.

"How long does this baby business take, Pans?" moaned Blaise Zabini, fanning himself with his hand. "It's been hours, dammit."

"How am I supposed to know?" replied his fiancee with a small shrug.

"You're a girl", he stated dumbly. "You should have an inkling as to how these things work."

Raising an eyebrow, Pansy slapped his shoulder. "Thank you for pointing out the obvious, dumb ass , she said almost inaudibly, fearing that she'd be in a lot of trouble if Draco's mother heard her, "but just because I'm female, doesn't mean I know much about childbirth and things of that sort."

"You need to know though."

"Why?" Pansy looked outraged. "I'd rather not know the details."

"Hello?" said Blaise. "We're gonna have kids one day, aren't we?"

"Oh yeah", she replied, backing down as she thought about it. "We will, Blaisey but not for another five years or so. Maybe not for a decade or so. It depends on many things."

.

.

.

"This hurts so much", cried Hermione as tears flowed down her cheek. "I never thought it'd be so horrifying."

"I'm so sorry", muttered Draco, squeezing her hand gently and pushing back her sweaty brown curls. "I really am."

"I know", she whimpered, wrapping an arm around his neck, "and I feel terrible for saying those nasty things to you."

"It's not your fault, Granger", he reassured her. "I'm perfectly alright with you saying whatever is on your mind if it makes you feel better."

"But it doesn't! Nothing will make me feel better until your child is out of my body and into my arms and-" she was unable to complete her sentence because a contraction wracked across her body, making her shriek in agony.

Draco bit back a scream of his own. I swear to Slytherin, he said to himself, I'll make it up to Granger, some way or the other. I owe her big time.

"It'll be alright", he said soothingly.

"How would you know?" she shrieked.

Expect another chapter soon enough.