A/N: TW for death resulting from childbirth.
A/N, August 1st, 2018: minor changes made to the chapter text.
Hermione could count the Slytherins she'd seen in the past eight years on one hand. Daphne Greengrass would be the sixth. Blaise Zabini attended Harry's wedding, Bastien Queensbury worked at the apothecary in Diagon Alley, she'd spotted Theo Nott a few times, and Amrish Gupta had come to St. Mungo's to be treated for Dragon burns. Then there were two encounters with Draco Malfoy which Hermione would prefer to forget.
She testified at Malfoy's trial. Not to the extent Harry had, because he was overtly passionate about keeping Draco out of Azkaban. He recounted Malfoy's reticence to kill Professor Dumbledore, how Draco didn't give the three of them up to Voldemort at Malfoy Manor, and how Narcissa Malfoy chose not to give Harry over to the Dark Lord during the Final Battle. Hermione only went because Harry insisted someone else needed to come to Draco's defense. The Wizengamot could ignore one-third of the Golden Trio, he reasoned, but not two. Ron would've sooner sewn his own mouth shut than say a word in Malfoy's defense so Hermione agreed to give Malfoy two words.
Only two words.
Hermione sat in the witness chair as the Wizengamot members yelled questions at her. She thought it would be more civilized, but the Malfoy trial had been … perplexing. She answered none of them, sitting straight and remaining stone-still until they had shouted themselves hoarse. The Chief Warlock announced,
"Miss Granger, you are not cooperating with this chamber and we will hold you in contempt should you continue to refuse to answer questions. Lord Draco Malfoy stands accused of three counts of attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore, two counts of unintentional assault upon students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one count of being an accomplice to torture, and conspiracy to overthrow the government in support of Lord Voldemort's rebellion."
He didn't need to say all those things. I was there, I saw them happen. You all know he watched his aunt torture me. He stood off to the side as I cried out in unimaginable pain and he was not brave enough to do anything. That's the worst part about Malfoy, not that he hated me but that he didn't want to hurt me. Draco Malfoy simply wasn't brave enough to stop it, to switch sides or follow what he knew was right. It just so happened that I paid the price for it more times than anyone else. I don't need the Chief Warlock to remind me of all the shitty things Draco Malfoy has done.
Ask me the question I came here to answer.
"Do you understand these charges?"
"Yes," Hermione said.
"Should Lord Malfoy plead guilty to these charges, do you believe he should have his wand snapped and be sent to Azkaban?"
The ensuing quiet coated Hermione like she'd been doused with a bucket of ice water. In the frigid silence all fifty members of the Wizengamot leaned forward to hear her answer. Draco was several metres to her left in a ridiculous iron chair, with his wrists and feet bound to it by magic-restraining cuffs. His head was tilted toward the heavens, eyes closed like he was waiting for Hermione to swing the axe. Smug bastard thought he knew her answer.
She got lost in Draco Malfoy for a moment. His confines were so primitive, so unnecessary. Draco Malfoy had never been violent to anyone except Harry and he was too proud to make an escape attempt. Pride and money were all the Malfoys really had. They couldn't take away his money so the restraints were the Wizengamot's method of humiliation. Hermione hated Malfoy, but she hated the people behind the bench, too. The Chief Warlock repeated,
"Miss Granger, do you believe that to be a suitable punishment?"
"No."
Draco's head snapped up and everyone in the chamber gasped. Even Harry had raised a surprised eyebrow. While Draco's face was an impassive mask, Hermione saw the surprise in his eyes. The Chief Warlock kept opening his mouth and closing it like a catfish, completely lost for words. So Hermione got up and left.
She saw Malfoy four years later in Obscurus Books. Once each of them realized the other was present, they were too close to pretend they hadn't seen each other. Draco stood over a small display, clutching a copy of Protection Charm Your Mind: An Advanced Guide to Counter Legilimency. Hermione saw his jaw clench, probably to prevent himself from saying something uncouth. His father died a couple months earlier and Draco clearly hadn't been getting much sleep. He tensed the moment Hermione spotted him. Separated by a mere two metres, Draco mouthed something to her which looked like, Thank you. She nodded at him then left.
.oOo.
On Monday, a red-eyed Daphne Greengrass stepped out of Hermione's Floo. Hermione invited her to sit down at the kitchen table, a little hesitant, a little wary. Scorpius was napping in the bedroom, so Hermione positioned herself between Daphne and the stairs.
"Sorry I don't have anything to offer you for lunch," she lamented. "I just … I've been a bit busy."
Daphne nodded stiffly.
"I am sure I wouldn't want what you provided anyway, so let us consider that an obstacle avoided."
Hermione was a bit put off by her tone, but elected to take the high road. Daphne was Scorp's family, after all. Though her hair was a darker blonde and she had brown eyes so she bore little resemblance to her nephew.
"I am happy you came," Hermione admitted. "I know—"
"How do you know it's Astoria's child?" Daphne cut her off.
"She left a note in the basket."
"Of course, she did," Daphne nodded. She sighed and delicately wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Astoria had a rare blood disease. One of our great-great-great-great grandfathers was cursed with it, and it surfaces once every seven generations. She very weak and we knew she wouldn't live to be very old, but she was only twenty-four!" Daphne paused. Her restraint wavered as she choked on a sob.
"Oh, Daphne, um, here …" Hermione held out a tissue box. Daphne took one, wiped her nose, and continued.
"She wouldn't tell us who the father was; said it was a one-night thing. An accident, and he was out of the country by the time she realized she was pregnant." Daphne paused to blow her nose. "Mother and Father were infuriated when she told them. I must confess, I was upset with her as well. She was so reckless. We were sure it would kill her to carry the baby to term because it needed so much more than her body could provide.
"Astoria said she would rather bring life into the world because this child would give more love to his father than she could ever hope to. She wanted to give someone else a family but tore ours apart in the process."
"How do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"Mother and Father disowned her. They thought …" she hiccupped. "Excuse me. Forgive me if it sounds crass, but they believed she would only hide his identity because he was Muggle-born. Which is rubbish because Astoria never cared about that. She must have had a good reason not to tell us."
Hermione sagged back into her chair. Daphne was her best hope at finding Scorpius's father. She was back to square one.
"I visited when I could. I didn't want Mother and Father to know, but I also couldn't bear to be away from her. Astoria was bedridden the later months because she was too weak to support the baby's weight. It was dreadful to watch her disappear like that. May 28th is the baby's birthday, which I feel you should know."
Hermione nodded and wrote that down on a spare piece of parchment. Daphne continued,
"We had hope, but someone else was caring for her and they owled me when she died. I just … Just …" Daphne broke down in heaving sobs and Hermione leaned forward to wrap her in a hug and pat her back until she felt like she could speak again.
"I don't even know who was caring for her! Oh, Merlin, I am such a mess. She kept most of it secret even from me. She didn't trust me and was probably right not to. Now I am here in your bloody kitchen hoping you are taking good care of the baby so I don't have to."
Hermione was stunned.
"Of course! Of course, I am!"
"Thank Merlin," Daphne sighed and wiped her nose. "So I can leave it here with you?"
"Leave him?" Hermione asked, befuddled. "Don't you want to spend time with him? I was terrified you would want to take him away from me."
"Astoria just died less than two weeks ago. My parents believe I was too soft, visiting her at the end and planning the funeral. Then she thought I didn't support her enough. She said that having this child was the most important thing she could think to do because her life was so short. Of course, I told her it didn't need to be that short, if only she would have … I don't know. I don't know what I wish she would have done. I wish she wouldn't have fucked someone who wasn't there to stay. She deserved someone who would."
"You should meet him," Hermione insisted. "Scorpius deserves to have a family, and I …" She wondered how honest she should be with Daphne. "I still don't know if I am enough for him."
Daphne shook her head.
"I just can't, not right now. It is so shitty of me, but I lost my sister because of him; Astoria lost her entire family and then her life. I need time to come to terms with that. It isn't his fault, Granger, I know it isn't, but it doesn't feel that way right now. I just need some time to … to …"
"Mourn," Hermione supplied.
"Yeah," Daphne agreed. "I miss her so much. We didn't lose anyone in the war, so this … I am not used to this. I don't understand it; I don't know what to do. I am useless."
"I understand. During the war, I modified my parents' memories and sent them to Australia because I was afraid someone would try to kill them." Daphne sniffled in surprise. "I did what I thought was best. Even though they didn't trust me after I removed the charm it was a small price to pay for saving their lives. It sounds like your sister did what she thought was the right thing."
"It was unfair to her, to me, to our family to make that choice," Daphne insisted.
"Perhaps it was." Hermione conceded. "I can tell you Scorpius is nothing but love. Well, love and snot and dirty nappies. But if she wanted to bring love into the world, Astoria already succeeded. I've had him a week and he has already become the one good thing between me and my parents. I am grateful she made this decision and I think you will be too, sometime."
"I just can't, Granger," Daphne said, an edge of finality in her tone. "Not yet."
"Okay," Hermione nodded. "Is there any other information you can give me?"
Daphne shook her head.
"That is all I have."
"Well, um … I appreciate you telling me," Hermione finished lamely.
Daphne stood and tentatively placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"Thank you, Granger, for keeping him. I no longer need to wonder where he ended up or whether I am failing Astoria by not taking him in. I am grateful. I know our past at school was … unpleasant."
An understatement.
"You know what it's like to be told you are one thing and know it doesn't quite fit. Maybe you are the best person to help a child with a broken family. I can tell that you believe I am prejudiced like my family, but you are wrong. I don't believe in that anymore. Blood purists are loyal enough to watch their own daughter suffer and I won't be party to that."
.oOo.
Scorpius would only fall asleep if someone was holding him or if there was music playing. Not just any music, but loud theatrical productions. Hermione was not surprised her father jumped at the chance to rid the car of these cassettes. Scorpius had taken to, of all things, Phantom of the Opera. He was snoring softly by "Music of the Night," and Hermione fell asleep soon after, fully-clothed.
Hermione woke to someone knocking on her front door.
Please, dear God, don't be another baby.
She glanced at the clock: nine in the morning. Scorp had been asleep five whole hours! Hermione walked downstairs to answer the door.
"Dean Thomas?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Oh, hell, it's Wednesday, isn't it? I'm gonna be late," she groaned. But Dean scooped her into a hug and said,
"It's good to see you too, Hermione."
She laughed when he put her back on the floor.
"I know, I know, it's just … A lot of work."
Dean was several inches taller than her and quite literally the friendliest person she ever met. Hermione was ecstatic when Harry suggested Dean watch Scorpius for a few hours because he was a kind soul and Scorp needed as much exposure to that as he could get. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione held up a hand because she noticed Dean hadn't arrived alone.
"Granger," Blaise Zabini greeted Hermione and eyed her distastefully. Admittedly, she had been wearing the same jeans for three days, her t-shirt was wrinkled, and her bun was held up with her wand. All things considered, her look had improved over the past week. Blaise, on the other hand, looked like he just walked out of an issue of Wizards Quarterly. He wore a purple button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the crook of his elbows, dark jeans, and shoes that cost more than Hermione was willing to contemplate.
To be blunt, he was the most handsome man Hermione had ever seen. His eyes were a golden-brown that reminded Hermione of apple cider, and he held himself like he knew exactly how beautiful he was. Dean laughed, the corner of Blaise's mouth twitched up, and Hermione realized she had been staring at him open-mouthed for much longer than one could have considered appropriate.
"Are you going to keep ogling my boyfriend or invite us in?" Dean teased. Hermione opened the door and gestured for them to come inside. "Boyfriend?" she mouthed to Dean, who shrugged.
"It's new."
"Four months isn't new," Blaise said from the living area.
Hermione ticked off the morning routine on her fingers.
"Hair, teeth, clothes, nappy, bottle—"
"Those last two are for the baby, yes?" Blaise asked with mock innocence. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Keep talking to me like that and you'll be needing a nappy once I'm finished with you."
Blaise held his hands up in surrender and Dean chuckled. He darted into the kitchen and said,
"I'll get the bottle, you just do whatever you need to do."
Hermione took the stairs to her bedroom two at a time. Chief Healer Battlehunt expected her at 9:30 and she couldn't be late. After all, the sooner she got to work, the sooner she could be back home. She pulled her shirt over her head, grabbed a clean one from the closet, and it caught on the wand in her hair when she tried to pull it over her head. She stuffed the wand in her back pocket, pulled the shirt down, and grabbed her lime-green Healer robe.
She turned back to the centre of her room and yelped, "Oi!" when she saw Blaise Zabini in the doorway. He walked over to the crib and peered inside. He looked rather fond, actually, which took Hermione by surprise. Scorpius was in the process of waking up, alternately blinking and yawning. Blaise smiled an honest-to-Merlin smile.
"Do you mind if I hold him?"
"Be careful," Hermione said as she darted past to her bathroom, "Tell me the time?"
"9:07."
I can do this. I can definitely do this. It's only four hours. I can be away from Scorp for four hours.
She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and brushed her hair back into a tamer ponytail.
"9:12," Blaise announced when Hermione came out of the bathroom. "Welcome back to civilization," he commented at her reappearance. Hermione paid him little mind as she was focused on Scorpius making small noises in Blaise's ear. He held Scorpius against his shoulder like it was well-practiced.
"Dean didn't tell me you were coming," she said.
"I invited myself along," Blaise admitted. "He finds it rather difficult to tell me no."
"He never mentioned you," Hermione said.
"And what possible reason could there be for him to keep our relationship hidden?" Blaise deadpanned. "Try not to strain yourself working out the answer."
Oh.
"It's 9:14."
"Shit," Hermione mumbled. She motioned for Blaise to follow her downstairs. She looked back the whole way down, irrationally terrified he would slip and fall with Scorpius in his arms. Dean met them at the bottom of the steps with a warm bottle and a look on his face Hermione could only term, "love-struck." At the sight of his boyfriend holding a baby, Dean said,
"Marry me right now."
"I would, but our little star here hardly counts as a witness," Blaise smiled back. Hermione looked between the two of them and said,
"You two are so in love it's disgusting."
"Hermione's just jealous," Dean told the baby in Blaise's arms. He asked, "What's his name?"
"Scorpius."
Blaise made a noise of approval.
"He looks well cared for," Blaise observed. "Dean is great with kids because he has twenty-four younger sisters." Blaise handed Scorp off to Dean and Hermione's heart fell all the way to her stomach during the transfer.
"I have seven younger sisters," Dean corrected. Blaise shrugged like he saw little difference. Hermione turned to him and said,
"I don't know you. If Dean trusts you, I trust you, but if you so much as look at Scorp the wrong way I swear on Merlin's grave that I will stuff your wand so far up your arse you'll cast a spell each time you sneeze."
"Understood," Blaise replied.
"It's 9:20, Hermione, so unless you want to keep talking about my boyfriend's arse—"
"Yes, yes, I'm going …" She took one last look at Scorpius and said, "I don't really have to go. I can stay."
"Hermione—"
"I haven't left him at all since he wound up with me."
"It's four hours, Hermione," Dean insisted quietly. "I promise Scorpius will be here and healthy when you get back."
"Okay, okay," she nodded and Apparated before she could consider staying any longer. She ran into St. Mungo's and met with Chief Healer Battlehunt at 9:28. She smiled at the clock and said,
"I am here on time, sir."
He raised a quizzical eyebrow and looked down. Hermione followed his gaze and promptly smacked a hand to her forehead, realizing she forgot to change one particular part of her outfit.
"Jeans, Miss Granger?"
