Wow guys, so last chapter was incredible! I know a lot of you have been waiting for that and I hope I delivered fairly well :P So, now that we know Hermione survives, where do we go from here? Let's find out! This chapter is going to reveal something that I fought with myself about for quite some time to put in. It will change everything drastically – but, that's not a bad thing. "…Even in war, good things can and will happen." This will be quite a development, and I want to know what you guys think about it. Please REVIEW! (Also, I'm listening to John Newman – love me again for this chapter) Guest – Here's your next dose of heroin, you're welcome. Pgoodrichboggs – I had to make sure that everyone knew he wasn't really a Death Eater. A very crucial part of the story is how The Order is using the Malfoy family for their personal gain. I felt the need to move the plot along, especially with the aspiring events in this chapter. I'm glad you liked it! Imranramji – I'm impressed you finished this so quickly! Here's your next dose of heroin as well! Guest – I'm very glad you weren't disappointed; I hope you like this chapter just as much! Fleiur – I'm glad you're liking it so far! Keep on reading!
Chapter 25:
The days following Harry Potter's escape from Malfoy Manor were filled with angst and punishment. The Malfoy's were told from Voldemort that they were lucky to be alive, and that the only honorable one was Draco. Although he should have taken that as a compliment, he didn't. He noticed his father's seething look at him when Voldemort had said it, then watched him storm to his side of the Manor when the meeting adjured. Pissed off and wanting only to be away from his father, Draco decided to storm off to his side of the Manor as well. Narcissa watched both her husband and son walk in opposite directions, sensing the anger coming off both of them. Though she loved her husband, her allegiance was first and for most to her son, so she trailed after him slowly, giving Draco time to cool down.
When Narcissa got to the library, she didn't even bother knocking to allow herself in. She closed the door behind her, and saw her son looking older than he ever had. He was wearing black pants, a white button-up with a black loosened tie around his neck, and his black suit coat was slung over one of the chairs. He was pacing in front of the table, on which laid a book. Narcissa eyed the book, but rose her gaze to her son.
"You did the right thing, Draco."
Draco didn't stop pacing. "She's gone again, that's all that matters."
"What matters is that she is as far away from this place as possible!" Narcissa replied shrilly, causing her son to stop in his tracks, with his jaw clenched, ready to argue. "You saved her life! I cannot believe I have to tell you this!"
"We're just back to square one!" Draco roared, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't know where she is or if she's safe!"
"When you love someone, son, you have to learn to let them go," Narcissa told him calmly and laced her hands in front of her black dress. "Your time to be with Hermione is not now."
"When will it be?" Draco demanded, looking his mother dead in her eyes now. But, his mother stood her ground, unmoving, her lips pursed. "If we even survive this war, that's not to say that things would change!"
"It all depends on the outcome," Narcissa replied.
"And then he tells me that I'm the only one honorable! I am not fucking honorable, Mum! I am the exact opposite!" Draco kicked the table and the book flitted to the ground. Narcissa's eyes caught the flicker in writing. Draco had shielded the true contents of the book. "I don't know what to do!"
"You do as I tell you," she responded and raised her eyes to her son once more. "You did a noble thing saving Hermione. I do not doubt for one moment that you love her. Let me handle this, Draco. Get some rest."
With that, the witch left her son brooding in the library. She walked out of Draco's side of the Manor, out the kitchen doors, through the gardens, and to their owlrey. The walk and cool breeze had given her time to clear her head. Checking to make sure no one was around, she didn't once debate if this was the right thing to do. She quickly wrote a letter and sent it off, watching the owl fly away into the moonlight, hoping that her plan would work.
Hermione almost lost consciousness when Dobby has Apparated them out of Malfoy Manor. She felt her feet land on solid ground, but her eyes were half-closed and she felt the blood rushing down her arm. She was losing a lot of it; too much for her to comprehend. She smelled sea salt when she finally touched down, and inhaled the best she could. There was muffled screaming around her, and she was lifted off of her feet by strong arms, and carried for quite some time before being laid in something comfortable. It was then when she succumbed to the darkness.
"Mommy! Mommy! Can we go outside and play?" came a voice to Hermione's left. She turned and saw her son running towards the door of the house, practically jumping up and down with excitement to go play on the beach directly in front of their home.
"Okay, but only for a little while, then its nap time," she resigned. The little boy squealed with delight as he opened the door and ran onto the porch.
Hermione followed him, seeing that he had taken an interest in his father, who was rocking back and forth in a chair on their wooden porch, reading The Prophet and letting the sea breeze gust through his blonde hair. Hermione smiled at her husband; she hadn't seen him all day because he had gone to London. He was wearing shorts that almost matched the sand on the beach and a white button-up shirt. She made her way towards her boys, feeling the warm wood under her feet.
"And just what are you up too?"
"Daddy! Mommy told me we can play outside! Do you want to make swandcastles?"
Draco looked up to Hermione with interest, who only leaned against the wall of their house, and crossed her arms, staring down at her three year old offspring with a twinkle in her eye. He picked up his son and put him in his lap before running a hand through his blonde hair.
"Alright, Scorpius, let's build some sandcastles."
"Fleur! I need Dittany right away! She's loosing too much blood!" Bill called to his wife, who was in the kitchen fetching the necessary potions to heal Hermione. He looked up to his younger brother who was as pale as snow. "What the hell happened?"
"Bellatrix," Harry mumbled, his eyes fearful as he stared down at the girl on the table in front of him. Her blood was surrounding her, but she looked peaceful, as though she was lost in a blissful dream.
"I fucking hate her," Bill said and grabbed the Dittany the moment Fleur brought it to him. "How'd the hell did you manage to escape?"
"Well," Harry scratched the back of his head. "Hermione helped, and so did Malfoy."
Bill stopped what he was doing and blinked. "Ron – is this true?"
"Yep, the whole lot of it," Ron grumbled and took Hermione's hand. He squeezed it gently.
"Malfoy was the one who called for Dobby and told him to bring us somewhere safe," Harry explained as Bill went back to applying the Dittany.
"…Scorpius," Hermione whispered and twitched.
Bill looked up from her wound and eyed the boys who stared back at him unknowingly. "I wonder what that means."
"No idea," Ron muttered and sat down as he watched his older brother apply the Dittany to Hermione's wounds.
Hermione and Draco had watched their son make sandcastles for a good part of an hour. She couldn't get over how happy seeing the boys play made her. Draco had poured wet sand around the castle to make a moat, and then transfigured little fish in the moat, much to Scorpius' amusement. The little boy had grown tired, as much as three year olds can in the middle of the day with the summer sun beating down on them. Draco had opted to carry him into the house, but Scorpius refused, stubborn as always. He reached for Hermione's hand, and she led him into the house, followed by her husband.
"Do you have plans for the rest of the evening?" Hermione asked him.
"No, I'll be home," Draco replied and smiled at her.
"How about tomorrow?" she asked. She savored the sunlight warming her skin and the feeling of the sand between her toes. She loved it here; she felt safe.
"Tomorrow's our date," said Draco and took her other hand freely. She wrapped her fingers around his and met his eyes with a grin. "Well, Charity Ball. Lauren Lipp in the Department of Magical Catastrophizes made me really hate myself for declining the invitation."
"And how much are we giving to them?" Hermione teased and poked him in the side with a finger. Scorpius moved between them and took both their hands as they walked back towards their home.
"Enough for another plaque on the wall, fifteenth year running, courtesy of Grandpa Lucius," Draco replied with a smirk. "Merlin, Hermione. You truly are beautiful."
Hermione blushed. "You tell me every day. Why?"
Draco smiled. "Because one day, I may lose you again. And I want you to know how much I truly and deeply love you."
Harry couldn't find it in his heart to tell Ron that things were going to be okay. He knew they weren't going to be – ever. All of this newfound information put a huge twist on everything, including Hermione and Ron's relationship. He seriously hoped that Ron would not jump on her the moment she awoke. But, she had lost so much blood that she would soon be in a coma, and there was nothing Bill said he could've done to stop it. Her body was losing the will to fight. On the outside, she remained peaceful. On the inside, it was the exact opposite.
"…Scorpius," she whispered again.
Harry's eyebrows narrowed. Even if Bill and Ron were oblivious to anything but getting her bleeding under control, Harry was mentally connecting the dots. Scorpius was a constellation. As was Draco. As was Lucius. He looked at Hermione oddly, as though something clicked in his head.
"What is it, 'Arry?" Fleur asked, coming to stand beside him.
"Scorpius is a constellation," he said blankly and looked at Fleur.
"Yes," Fleur nodded, not understanding where he was going with this.
Harry bit his bottom lip, unsure of what to say. He had put together the pieces, but didn't like what it had given him. He had known that the Malfoy's always name their children after constellations, just as the Black's did. It was common knowledge. Hermione was whispering about Scorpius, and his eyes involuntarily drifted to Hermione's stomach…
"Oh my God," Harry whispered.
Bill applied the last bit of Dittany, and her blood finally stopped seething from her wounds. He stood up, a proud look on his face. "She'll be alright. Just needed to be patched up. She withstood that torture incredibly well."
"When will she wake up?" Harry pressed Bill.
"Not for a few hours," Bill replied. "You can question her then, but she needs rest right now."
Bill took Hermione upstairs with the help of Fleur while Harry and Ron stayed downstairs. A million things were racing through Harry's mind at that moment, and he didn't know what to do. He left Ron sitting in the chair in the living area and went outside. The sea-salt breeze made him calm, just a tad, before he went walking. His stomach was heaving, and he didn't understand anything going on around him. All he needed to do was find Horcruxes… what about the wand… and the stone? What about… this?
Luna, Dean, Griphook the Goblin, and Ollivander were all safe and recovering in Bill and Fleur's cottage. Dobby had gone back to Hogwarts right away to inform McGonagall of what had happened. No one was in the position to speak or plan at the moment, even though that was exactly what needed to be done. Harry couldn't focus on what should happen next. Bellatrix had been outrageously worried and territorial when she thought they had been in her vault at Gringotts… The Sword wouldn't have been that big of an issue; she was worried about something else. Since Voldemort trusted her the most out of all of his followers, what if he had used her vault for something more sinister… like a Horcrux?
"Harry! Hermione's awake!" Ron yelled from the cottage.
Had he been gone that long already? The time flew by as Harry had walked. He trudged back through the sand and breeze to the warmly lit cottage by the sea, until he saw his best friend's red hair partnered with his brother's and Fleur's. They cautioned him before he went up to see her, but he insisted that he spoke to her alone first. Ron tried to come with him, but Harry gave him a threatening look, knowing he would pounce down her throat for her relationship with Malfoy. Bill and Fleur backed Harry up and took Ron outside to see the property while Harry cracked open Hermione's bedroom door.
"Hey," he said meekly to her as he closed it behind him. Hermione looked better than she had a few hours before; there was color beginning to come back into her cheeks now, but her hair was still tangled, and there was a bit of dried blood on her clothes.
She turned her head to face him and smiled. "Hey, Harry."
Harry sat down on the bed beside her and returned her smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Hermione replied but raised her bandaged arm. He could already see the "mudblood" seeping out from her blood attempting to get through the bandages. "That'll never go away."
Harry winced. "Don't think of it as anything, Hermione. Names are just names."
"I know," Hermione said.
"I'm thankful that Malfoy got us out," Harry offered and took her hand. Hermione's eyes lit up when Harry mentioned his name, and his heart began to sink. "I won't say that I misjudged him yet, but that was brave."
"He told me he loves me," Hermione whispered, her eyes now focusing on the blankets pooling around her. "He told me we would see eachother again."
"I have no doubt of that," Harry shook his head.
Hermione looked up into her best friend's eyes. "I hope the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who didn't find out about us."
"I don't think they did," came Harry's reply, smooth as butter. "His mother yelled at him to get you out of the Manor. And when Bellatrix was torturing you, we could see her restraining him from attacking his Aunt and saving you."
Hermione's breath caught. "I… I want to see him right now… I want to thank him."
"You'll the opportunity."
"How do you know?" Hermione asked.
Harry eyed her stomach again then met her hazel eyes. "I just do. And so will you."
"What on earth do you mean by that?" Hermione demanded, becoming increasingly irritated with Harry.
Harry sighed. "When you were unconscious, you were whispering 'Scorpius.' Does that mean anything to you?"
Hermione stared back at him in bewilderment. "No, not at all."
"What is Scorpius, Hermione?" Harry asked. He knew she wasn't catching on to what he was throwing at her, and he couldn't believe that her brilliant brain was not keeping up. He gave her credit that there were potions in her system, but Scorpius was an unusual enough name that she should have figured it out.
"A constellation," came her instant reply as she stared at him like he was stupid.
Harry cleared his throat, knowing he had to tell her, no matter what the implications were. "So is Abraxas. So is Lucius. So is… Draco."
"Harry…" Hermione trailed off, realization suddenly coming to her. Her eyes filled with tears and her hands wandered to her stomach, and a tear dropped from her cheek onto her fingers. "Oh my God, no… no, how did this happen?"
"I'm guessing you slept with him?" Harry asked, close to tearing up himself. He had to clear his throat to take the lump out of it and bite his tongue to keep from having his eyes fill with tears.
"Once," Hermione whispered and her shoulders hunched. She turned to Harry with fear in her eyes. "Do you think… the Cruitatus… Did it harm…"
Harry shook his head. "We have no way to be sure, but… how far along would you be?"
"Three to four months," she said quietly, her heart full but her mind panicked. "I cast a charm…"
"It obviously did not work," Harry allowed a little laugh. "You might not have cast it correctly, or you may have not be in your right state of mind."
Although it wasn't like Hermione to not cast magic correctly, she knew it was possible. "Why didn't I notice before?"
"You haven't taken a normal shower in months, let alone seen yourself in anything besides baggy clothes?" Harry offered her his hand and helped her out of her bed. He led her to the mirror on the other side of the room, holding her steady, as she wobbled just a bit. "Why don't you take a look?"
Half frightened, Hermione cast a long look at Harry before lifting up her grey jumper, turning herself sideways. Staring back at her was a little budge in her belly. She stared at it for a great while in disbelief and then turned to Harry and collapsed on him in tears. Gently, he lowered her to the floor, and gathered her in his arms, rocking her back and forth gently, knowing they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. But, when they did, the first thing he was going to do would be to owl Narcissa Malfoy.
Bill let out a low whistle as Harry explained the situation to him. Fleur had stopped her knitting and listened intently about halfway through. Harry had taken advantage of the fact that Ron could now go see Hermione, and allowed her to let him know she was alright while he sought advice from Bill and Fleur. He only hoped Ron hadn't been listening around the corner the entire time.
"That is quite the predicament," Bill said and rubbed his chin.
"I don't know what to do," Harry said helplessly. "Hermione doesn't know what to do."
"She loves 'im," Fleur said softly, deep in thought. "And he loves 'er? If you're sure about it, 'Arry, it gives you more incentive to defeat You-Know-Who."
"I already have enough incentive," Harry mused. "This is just complicating things."
"We have to keep Hermione and the baby safe," Bill said. "If You-Know-Who or the Order finds out that she is pregnant with Malfoy's child, then things will become tricky."
"I already sent an owl to his mother," Harry told them. "I know it was risky, but they can't track owl post, and I had it be exchanged twice along the way."
"Good thinking," Bill nodded. "We have to pull Hermione out of the quest to find the Horcruxes. There is no other option. She is much too far along, plus that baby will be key to uniting families."
"What about Ron?" Harry asked, with a hint of panic in his voice.
"Ron will… get over it," Bill said, not rather gently. He exchanged a look with his wife before turning back to Harry. "He will be fine, Harry. Ron won't hold a grudge forever. I think it's best that we let her tell him too."
"YOU'RE WHAT?!" came Ron's bellowing voice from upstairs.
"I think we better go supervise," Bill sighed and rose from the table quickly, followed by Harry and Fleur, hastily on the back of his feet.
Narcissa re-read the parchment a hundred times before ripping it into a thousand pieces and burning it with the tip of her wand. She quickly marched out of her room and down the hallway, past Lucius and Nott discussing Ministry business, past the God-awful snake in the middle of her home, past Sparky whose large eyes only followed her, and straight into the library where she saw her son munching on a sandwich that Sparky had inevitably brought him. He looked up to her, and when he saw the look on her face, he carefully put his food and book down and slowly rose to his feet.
"You need to leave," Narcissa told her son.
Draco had to double-take her words and process them before he responded. "What?"
"You need to leave immediately," Narcissa replied. "I will make arrangements with the Dark Lord to explain your absence."
"Why?" Draco demanded, his eyes narrowed at his mother.
"There's no time to explain," Narcissa replied. "Go to your room and pack your things."
She didn't give him time to respond. Instead, she walked out of the library, down the hallway again, and to her husband, politely excusing him away from Nott and pulling him into their bedroom where she shut the door, locked it, and cast a silencing charm. She turned to face him with a look on her face that Lucius had only seen once before. It worried him.
"Cissa? Do you mind explaining to me what is so urgent?" he demanded.
"You need to send Draco on assignment," Narcissa told her husband. Lucius raised his eyebrows in the same way Draco did, studying his wife. "Out of respect for your family, I am going to ask you not to ask why or where."
"I'm assuming you're not going to tell me where he's going anyway," Lucius replied. Narcissa didn't reply until her husband finally gave in. "Cissa, there better be a good reason for this."
"You know as well as I do that there is," Narcissa replied and crossed her arms. "This is our son we are talking about, Lucius! We have had this conversation many times before!"
"Even before you left on holiday when you believed he was dead," Lucius sighed. "Say I agree – what do I tell The Dark Lord?"
"That you sent Draco on assignment," Narcissa answered him. "This is a purely private matter."
Lucius thought for a moment. "Very well, Cissa. I demand a full explanation when he gets back."
"You will get an explanation, Lucius, but it will not be when he gets back," Narcissa replied coolly and eyed her husband menacingly. "You know the sacrifices I have made for this family, I expect you to return the favor."
"Cissa, you go too far!" Lucius barked, enraged. "Do you not think that I have put everything on the line for –"
"For the Dark Lord? Oh yes I know," Naricssa replied, strangely calm. "I know all too well the risks you have put on this family, but sacrifices I have yet to see."
Lucius sighed. "I will go inform the Dark Lord that Draco has business to attend too outside of the Manor."
Narcissa thanked her husband and left their room. She knew that Lucius wouldn't disobey a direct order from her out of respect, and this had been the first time she had legitimately put her foot down assertively to her husband. But, this was also her grandchild and son on the line. Lucius could not know about the baby until after the war, just in case she misjudged him and his allegiance had turned. When she got to Draco's room, she noticed that he had packed his suitcase and stared at her with the most particular look on his face.
"I don't suppose you know what's going on," he said.
"Son, your life is about to change greatly," Narcissa stared into the eyes of her son, and put her hands on his shoulders. "I want to remind you that even in war, good things can and will happen. Please believe me."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "I wish you would tell me where I'm going and why."
"Don't act like you haven't wanted to leave the Manor," Narcissa scolded him quietly.
Draco looked away. "It hasn't really been an option to leave."
"Your Father is informing The Dark Lord you are going on assignment," his mother explained and raised his chin so he looked at her. She pulled a piece of parchment out of her hand and stuffed it into his with tears in her eyes. "Apparate here. I will miss you."
Draco kissed his mother's cheek and told her that he would indeed miss her too before he stepped around her and grabbed his suitcase. He left the Manor only wondering where he was being sent too and why he was being sent there. As soon as he made it past the Apparation wards, he pulled the piece of parchment and stared at it in confusion before thinking of shell cottage and feeling his feet lift off the ground into nothingness.