Chapter 14
"I'm so sorry. She followed me here," Pansy stated as Hermione opened her front door.

Hermione looked past her friend to find Narcissa Malfoy waiting behind her. "Oh, Mrs. Malfoy! What a, um, pleasant surprise," she said, opening the door wider. "Won't you come in. Draco's not home, but I expect him back shortly."

The older woman nodded and followed Pansy inside. "I swear, she just showed up at my house and demanded to know where you live," Pansy whispered as they slowly made their way to the living room. "Why does his mother not know where he lives?"

Hermione shrugged and took a seat in the chair across from Narcissa. "This is a lovely little space you have," she commented. "Small, but homey. Will there be room for the baby?"

"Well, the baby will sleep in the room with me for a few months," Hermione replied. "We're working on renovating Draco's room into a nursery. Draco plans to have it ready by the time the baby is born."

Judging by the look on Narcissa's face, she was appalled by what she had learned. "Where does my son sleep?" she inquired.

Hermione's face brightened with embarrassment. "Usually the couch," Pansy said, coming to her friend's aid. The two women turned to face her. "What? Draco's a prat half the time. I'd make him sleep on the couch even if he had a room that wasn't currently housing half-built baby furniture. He has really got to get moving on that."

"As I recall, your husband promised to help him with it," Hermione pointed out.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, it's not that hard to wave a wand and have all the pieces put together," she retorted. "The twins' furniture was put together with magic, and nothing ever broke. Except that chair. I told Blaise he was too heavy to sit on it."

Narcissa seemingly forgotten, Hermione turned her full attention to her friend. "Draco decided he wants to do it the muggle way," she shared. "He's got it in his head that a good father should be involved, and for him, that means building by hand. You have to admit it's adorable though."

Chuckling, Pansy seemed to soften as she agreed. "You just better hope he doesn't decide to use this as a way of getting out of those nighttime feedings," she cautioned. "Blaise blamed his inability to help on not being able to breastfeed, so I filled bottles. Then he told me that he didn't have the right 'touch', that the kids didn't like him as much. So, I went to my mother's house for a night to give him a little bonding time with them."

Across from them, Narcissa cleared her throat and both women turned surprised eyes on her. "I do apologize for barging in on you like this," the older witch started. "Pansy mentioned the two of you had plans today, so I won't delay you any longer. I just wanted to offer my help."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Your...you want to help?" she asked. "Help us?"

The blonde smiled kindly. "Yes, dear, help you and my son," she confirmed.

"What does Mr. Malfoy think of this?" Hermione wondered as she began to overcome the shock of her news.

With a wave of her hand, she replied, "I don't particularly care. Draco is my son and this is my grandchild. I'd like to see him happy, and I believe that you make him happy."

"He makes me happy too," Hermione shared.

"Good," she replied. "Well, that's all I came by to say. May I use your floo to return home?"

Hermione nodded and watched as Narcissa Malfoy, the woman she once thought cold and unloving, disappeared in the green flames. "What was that all about?" she wondered when she was alone with Pansy.

Pansy tore her gaze from the fireplace. "I think," she replied, "that she wants to help you and Draco. If I'm quoting her correctly."

"She sobbed uncontrollably when we, well Draco, told her about the baby. She sat by while his father fired him and cut him off. Why would she want to help?" Hermione wondered.

"Pureblood parents are different, Hermione," Pansy explained. "They tend to distance themselves from their children. Nannies and governesses and house elves raised us. And forget about grandparents. They existed at family functions, and then disappear back into the family tree. They aren't involved because it's not their place. But Narcissa seems like she wants to change that. She was always a bit more hands on with Draco than other parents were. Telling her that her technically engaged son was having a child with another woman probably just came as a shock to her. I wouldn't read anything into that."

Hermione leaned back, resting her head atop the sofa cushions. "How do you think Draco's going to take it?" she wondered.

"My guess? Not well," Pansy replied.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stick around for moral support?" Pansy whispered as they entered Hermione's flat hours later. Each woman was ladened down with bags, which Hermione promptly dropped once she was inside.

"Please, you just want to watch his head explode," she replied.

Pansy shrugged. "Sure, that's part of it," she decided as she followed Hermione to the bedrooms at the back of the flat. "But Draco's my friend as well. I want to make sure he's okay."

Hermione shot her a disbelieving look, but didn't turn her away. She entered what would soon be the nursery and found Draco on the floor hunched over a set of instructions before glancing at two screwdrivers.

"What are these?" he asked himself.

Hermione walked around him and bent down as well as she could. "Flathead," she told him, pointing to the flat screwdriver in his left hand. "And phillips head."

"Thanks," he muttered, putting the tools aside. He sighed tiredly and helped her stand. "How was shopping? Pansy wear you out?"

"A bit," she admitted. "Um, there's something we need to talk about."

His brows furrowed, first with confusion, then anger, as Hermione recalled her conversation with his mother. When she finished, he shook his head adamantly. "No, absolutely not, Hermione," he stated. "No, I don't want them involved in any way, shape, or form."

He walked out of the room, ignoring Pansy and the hand Hermione placed on his wrist. She followed him to the kitchen, never releasing her hold on him no matter how much he tried to shake her off. "But it's only your mother," she insisted, thinking it would make the idea a bit more appealing.

"You can't possibly believe that," he said, grabbing the pitcher of pumpkin juice from the refrigerator. "Come on, Hermione, you can't possibly be that naive."

"What do you think she's going to do?" she wondered, finally letting him go. "Toss the baby over the side of a cliff? Curse it? Force us to give it up for adoption? I don't foresee her doing that. She seemed genuinely interested in helping us. We can't rely on Pansy and Blaise for everything. It's not fair to them."

Putting the juice back, he slammed the refrigerator door shut. "And what makes you think we need to rely on anyone?" he asked, rounding on her. "You think we can't do this ourselves? You and me - we're all this baby needs."

Pansy cleared her throat and laid a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I think I should go," she whispered.

Hermione nodded and bade her goodbye. "Draco," she said tentatively, "I know-"

"No, you don't," he interrupted her, his voice softening. "You had a great relationship with your parents. If they were still alive, I'd be more than happy to let them into our lives. But my parents? If it weren't for that stupid marriage contract, I don't think I would have even told them we're having a baby."

"Okay," she replied. "We won't involve them then."