Harry visited her at St Mungos the day after Malfoy set her free. He came with a posy of her favourite flowers—daffodils. Ron was in France for Auror business, but was rushing back to see her. She'd already spoken to him via Floo and he'd been in tears. It was difficult. Obviously Harry had questions, but had the common sense not to ask them yet. Hermione stared at her hands as they twisted the bed covers at her lap.
"Three years," he said, shaking his head. "We never gave up hope that you were alive. I kept asking for proof, but the bastard never gave us any."
Hermione's head lifted. "You mean Draco?"
Harry was watching her carefully. "No, I mean Voldemort. When it came to the matter of your abduction, I never dealt with Malfoy. Up until yesterday, that is."
The ensuing silence was prickly.
"I thought we were about to conduct an exchange. Imagine my surprise to realise it was merely a drop off. He was utterly insane to walk up to my door step, but I wasn't about to question my good fortune. Not yet, at any rate."
"Thank you for not…pursuing the matter."
Harry sighed. "Pursuing the 'matter' was secondary to making sure you were taken care of." She felt Harry's warm, larger hand cover her fidgeting ones. "I cannot begin to imagine what you must have gone through," he said, and there was a tremor in his voice that brought tears to both their eyes. "I don't need anything else from you at this point, not answers, not anything. I just want you to be OK. We have all the time in the world to talk. Yes?"
She nodded, and the movement sent fat tears spilling onto the starched sheets.
It was kind of Harry to give her that reassurance. However, the 'how' and 'why' conversation could not have been delayed for too much longer. This was especially the case given that she discovered she was pregnant three weeks later.
Present day
Perhaps she shouldn't have had that cup of tea after all. The caffeine gave her fitful dreams. Hermione was asleep and dreaming about Hogwarts, of all things, when she awoke to find a hand placed firmly over her mouth.
"Be still," Draco said. He was lying next to her on the bed, dressed in dark red Auror robes. "You won't scream?" he asked, as he handed Hermione the wand he'd taken from her bedside table.
She shook her head, her eyes wide in disbelief to find him inside the safe-house Harry had organised for the delivery of the babies.
He removed his hand. "You have no idea how difficult it was to find you. Potter certainly has a talent at hiding his treasure." His eyes travelled over her face and then down to her belly, which was a small mountain under the bedcovers. He looked floored. "As for this, I'm not going to bother assuming anything else other than the obvious…"
The truth was the safest option, she figured, sitting up. "Our twins are due any day now."
Draco placed a lightly shaking hand over her abdomen. He didn't actually touch her, though. His hand merely hovered. He licked his lips and frowned. Hermione helped him by placing her hands on top of his and pressing them down onto her warm belly. She could only stare at him in amazement, feeling the blubbering barely held at bay. He looked windswept and nervous and beautiful.
"How the bloody hell did you get in here?"
His very obvious display of nerves was at odd with the wink he gave her. "I have my ways. One of those ways being the window."
Hermione could only stare. "Harry's right. You areinsane. Did you hurt anyone for that uniform?" she demanded.
He smiled at her vehemence. "Do you think I traipse around looking for excuses to perpetrate murder?"
"Are you still a Death Eater?"
"Yes."
"There's my answer."
He rolled his eyes. "If you must know, stealing a set of robes from the Ministry laundry service seemed like the less messy option."
"Malfoy, the guards will kill you on the spot if they find you here, Auror robes or not!"
"Then don't let them find me," said Draco, gently. He observed the room. "I see you've traded one prison for another."
Hermione got out of bed. It was a three-step process and not without a deal of discomfort. Draco went to her assistance, but she swatted his hand away. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but we're not doing it."
It was a travesty that the Auror uniform suited him so well. "Granger, if that logic worked for us in the first place, we wouldn't be in this situation."
She waddled over to the door, opened it to check the corridor outside, before shutting it silently. "There is no situation!" she hissed.
"I'm looking at a rather large situation," he countered.
"What do you want from me?" she demanded. "By all rights I should be calling for the guards."
"Then why aren't you?"
She didn't have an immediate answer. Not a verbal one, anyway. He didn't wait for one. He slid off the bed and began opening drawers at the bedside table. "Pack what you need. You're coming with me."
Hermione shook her head, hands over her tummy. "No."
"What do you mean, 'no'? I came here for you, you daft woman."
She approached him, wand held aloft. "You kept me prisoner for three years! I nearly died once during that time! You're a Death Eater! There is nothing you can offer me that would make me even remotely consider leaving Harry, my family, my friends and my home!" She was sobbing uncontrollably, and wanted to beat on his chest, only her abdomen was in the way. "Damn you, Malfoy. I want to kill you for what you did to me! I wake up in the morning and expect to find myself back in that tower. I have nightmares. I can't go out in public without taking a potion to manage my panic attacks." She would have slumped to the ground if he hadn't caught her.
Hermione tried to pull away from him, but he turned her around and held her to him, her back at his chest.
"I can't change what you endured," he whispered.
She laughed bitterly. "Is that meant to be an apology?"
"An apology would be next to worthless in this situation," he said, into her hair. "For you, I will leave this life. I will renounce my master. I will take you as far as we need to go to be safe and you will want for nothing."
She turned in his arms so she could look at him. "So it would be just you and me and the babies? Is that it? We'd play happy family? You think you could do that?"
"Granger, I can do anything I set my heart on."
"Except stop doing Voldemort's bidding when you want to…"
"I will cease to be his the moment you leave with me!" he hissed. His fingers were digging painfully into her shoulders. "I don't understand your reticence! What is the alternative?"
She pushed his hands away. "That you don't understand my reticence in running away with you shows how much you don't understand me! The alternative, Draco, is for you to stay with me. Here."
His stare grew dark. "You're talking about turning myself in? Becoming an informant?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Impossible. The other way—"
"Is under your terms," she interrupted. "It's only ever been your terms. This insanity between us has never been tested in the real world, with consequences. If you want me, then you can have me under my terms. That is the alternative." She winced as one of the babies kicked hard.
Draco materialised at her side, leading her back to the bed. "Sit," he ordered, and when she had done so, with a mutinous expression, he began to pace. "Your Ministry will have me rotting in Azkaban, you realise?"
Hermione sighed. "For a time. I can't see how it can be avoided. You're the bleeding General, Malfoy. Harry said it's just my luck I didn't fall for some cannon-fodder, foot solider variety of Death Eater…"
"There can be no assurance of a plea bargain from the Ministry."
"I'll do everything in my power to bring one to course," she declared. "Draco, I can also do anything I set my heart on. I got away from you, didn't I?"
He ceased his pacing to look at her. His expression was frightening, mostly because he looked frightened. "What do you mean? Are you saying what happened between us was manufactured?"
She didn't want to tell him, but it had gone too far now. "That was the aim at the beginning. The way I saw it, it was the only chance at escape."
His expression was dark. "I see."
Her hand reached out to him. "Draco…"
He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. "You cannot promise a plea bargain. The Ministry will consider your judgment to be clouded. There is no point in my turning myself in if we cannot be together, and certainly not if you do not wish us to be together."
Hermione's eyes closed. She wondered at how the human heart could go on beating in the midst of such agony. "This is you telling me 'no', isn't it?" she whispered. His lack of a reply was answer enough. She tried a different tact, even though she knew it was going to break her heart.
"Draco, do you love me?"
She saw his hands ball into fists at his side. He stopped abruptly, looked at her and she was amazed to see the tears on his face. His eyes were gleaming silver. "Yes."
That was enough for now. He would stay. He would do what was necessary.
She believed in him.
