Based on the reviews I received, many of you are anxious about this story and where I am taking our precious bbs.
They are going through hard stuff. Stuff that's sometimes hard to read about.
But I swear they'll come out on the other side. As I keep saying, this story is HEA.
TW for this chapter: Verbal confrontation
A billion thanks to MsMerlin and GracefulLioness for their AlpaBet help.
Pink and white blossoms drifted in the breeze, falling almost like snow in the mid-April sunshine. They dotted the green landscape of the Hogwarts grounds and swirled all around Hermione and her little family as they made their way to Hogsmeade to do a bit of shopping.
A few petals drifted onto Shiloh's head, contrasting her pin-straight chestnut hair. Another petal drifted onto her nose, making her sneeze.
"Bless you, darling," Draco said, shooting her a brief, affectionate look. Now that she was nearly halfway through her pregnancy, Draco would hurry to pick up Shiloh before Hermione could even think about carrying their growing daughter anywhere.
"It's not good for your stress levels," he insisted nearly every time she moved to pick Shiloh up. "I've got this, love."
While she felt a little guilty and resentful for not being the one to cradle Shiloh in her arms, she couldn't help the relief that crept into her mind as well. Shiloh was not a little baby any more. In less than a month, she'd be a year old—a proper toddler, and she was getting heavier each day.
She was especially heavy when she threw a tantrum, which was happening, unfortunately, far more often these days.
Draco blamed it entirely on himself. "I was always a dramatic child," he would explain with a shrug after Shiloh threw her cup of pumpkin juice across the Gryffindor table. "I think she's going to take after me in those regards."
"If that's the case, then Merlin help us all," Ginny murmured between bites of ham sandwich with widening eyes.
That morning, Shiloh had kicked up a fuss when they hadn't been able to find her stuffed dragon. She hadn't stopped screaming for nearly an hour before Hermione found the thing under a couch cushion in the common room. After such an ordeal, Hermione was already thoroughly exhausted by nine in the morning, and didn't even pretend to protest when Draco hoisted Shiloh into the sling on his back.
The three of them finished crossing the Hogwarts grounds, entered Hogsmeade, and immediately made their way to Humbug and Willie's, the only toy store in the village. As much as Hermione wanted to stroll through the village, taking in the beautiful Spring weather and perusing the shelves at Featherstone's Books, they were on a mission today.
Teddy Lupin's birthday was coming up, and they were all invited to a special birthday celebration the following weekend. Today was their only chance to find him a suitable birthday present.
Draco held the door to Humbug and Willie's open, and Hermione walked through the threshold and into a practical wonderland of colour. The entirety of the shop looked like an enchanted forest, covered in moss and vines and very real fairies. Instead of shelves, products were stacked on gnarled branches that lined the walls.
Hermione couldn't help the smile that stretched across her face as she took it all in, captivated by the scene before her.
"Wow," she breathed, soaking in the lush atmosphere. "This place is amazing. I'd have loved it as a kid."
Draco smiled. "I came here a couple times when I was little. I always wanted to hide somewhere and see how long it took my mother to find me, but the one time I even tried, I was lectured for an hour about how Malfoys act in public." Draco chuckled, undoing the sling to let Shiloh down. "Needless to say, I didn't try again."
"Well, given how much Shiloh takes after you, we'll have to pay extra attention to her in here."
The moment Shiloh's little feet touched the soft, mossy ground inside the shop, she took off, toddling toward the shelf at the far end of the shop filled with stuffed toys. Walking was a new development for her. She had only taken her first steps a couple weeks ago, and had been practically unstoppable since.
Hermione worried about the uneven terrain in this store—especially the tree roots jutting out from the floor—but she was trying to give Shiloh room to fall and get back up again. It was something she was determined to do, much to Draco's protests, and it was proving harder than she thought.
Every time Shiloh bumped her head or tripped, it was her first instinct to rush over, scoop her up, and whisper comforting words in her ear. But she wanted to raise a strong child—a child who was resilient and who could make her own decisions. So she had promised herself that as long as there was no blood or unnaturally painful crying, she'd try to let Shiloh soothe herself.
With great trepidation, she watched Shiloh walk on chubby legs across the store.
Draco, it seemed, was watching with apprehension as well. He was biting his lip as Shiloh happily toddled away, not even looking back to check for them.
"She'll be fine," Hermione assured her boyfriend as they followed a few feet behind her.
Draco hummed.
They found a shelf near the stuffed animals containing baby toys, and began to peruse for a present for Teddy.
"What should we get him?" Draco plucked a wooden train from a shelf and turned it in his hands. "It's not like he realises it's his birthday."
"Well," said Hermione, pulling a levitating ball from another shelf, "I don't think it really matters what we get him. I think Andromeda and Harry mostly just want us to be a part of his life."
Hermione fought a tightness in her throat as she left so many words unspoken.
Harry had reached out to them two weeks ago, letting them know about the small gathering for Teddy for his first birthday. It wasn't going to be much—just a handful of family and friends and some cake. Harry confessed that he was too busy with Auror training to put together a proper party, and Andromeda wasn't sure she was up to planning a big event.
Hermione's heart had broken when she heard this. Of all the babies celebrating their first birthday this year, Teddy Remus Lupin deserved the biggest and best party of them all. The moment Harry ended their Floo call, Hermione got to work, contacting as many people to help as she could think of. In the end, she managed to scrounge together a small army of witches and wizards who were very excited, indeed, to celebrate little Teddy's first birthday.
"Do you remember the day Teddy was born?" Draco asked as he set the toy train back on the shelf.
Hermione nodded, turning her head to watch her boyfriend, images of Shell Cottage flooding her memory.
"I remember that was the first time it really hit me that I was going to be a dad," he admitted, pulling a toy cauldron from the wall. "Professor Lupin—he told me that watching my cousin have Teddy made him love her infinitely more. He told me that I'd feel the same about you."
Hermione felt her heart swell at his words. She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. A smile twitched on her lips. "And did you?"
Draco leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You know I did. Still do."
Despite her smile, Hermione felt a strange sadness at the same time. It was bittersweet, enjoying the love from her boyfriend, and watching their daughter grow—both things neither Remus nor Tonks would ever be able to do. Her fingers curled around the ball still in her hands as she blinked away tears that threatened to fall.
"I just wish—I just wish that Remus and Tonks could be here to see what a beautiful boy he is." Hermione dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "I wish that he could just have his parents with him instead of me having to scramble to assemble a sort of makeshift family."
Draco's arms were wrapped around her at once, cocooning her in warmth.
"I know." His breath tickled her curls as he leaned in. "But Teddy has us. He has his grandmother and he has a godfather. And even though you had to ask people, they're coming, aren't they? They're all so excited to be there for Teddy."
Hermione sniffed, gratitude for Draco's comforting arms and words swelling inside her chest. "I suppose."
"He's going to be just fine, Hermione. We may not take the place of a mum and dad, but we'll be there for him, no matter what. He won't go without parental figures in his life. Potter, if anyone, will especially make sure of that."
Hermione smiled as the image of Harry cuddling Teddy flashed in her mind. Those two—it was as though they were made for each other. Harry was so broken after the war and Teddy needed someone to love him unconditionally. Now, whenever Harry sent pictures of him and Teddy by owl, they both had smiles on their faces.
Teddy was Harry's son, even if not by blood. That, more than anything, brought comfort to Hermione's aching heart.
"Perhaps you're right." Hermione nodded, leaning into the dark wool of Draco's jumper so she could inhale his familiar scent.
He pressed a kiss onto the crown of her head. "Of course I am."
Hermione didn't have to look at her boyfriend to know he was smirking.
"Stop being so smug and help me pick a present." She swatted at his shoulder and pulled back from his embrace.
Draco let go of Hermione and set down the toy he was holding. "I was thinking about a toy broom."
Hermione shook her head. "Harry's getting him that. He said something about it being a godfather's tradition."
Draco shrugged. "Then I'm out of ideas. Most of these toys seem boring."
From the adjacent side of the store, Shiloh suddenly shrieked. Both Draco and Hermione immediately jumped and raced to her side, only to find her smiling and hugging a white toy owl. When Shiloh squeezed tighter, it hooted and she giggled.
"Well," Hermione laughed, reaching for Shiloh's hand. "I do believe Shiloh might have just done our job for us."
The two of them helped Shiloh walk over to the counter, where an elderly gentleman with hair growing out of his ears stood. Draco tried to pry the owl out of Shiloh's hands for the man to ring up, but she held on tightly. After several attempts to get the toy away from her, Draco sighed. "Looks like we're getting two."
As they walked from the shop minutes later, purchases in hand, Hermione just shook her head. "They'll have matching owls. It'll be cute." It seemed like enough of a justification.
"Maybe we'll just call it an early birthday present."
While they had openly discussed Teddy's birthday celebration, they had yet to touch on the subject of Shiloh's first birthday. As they drew closer to the one year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had noticed more and more of their classmates had started breaking down in classes, in the corridors, at night in the common room…
Somehow, holding a child's party on that somber day didn't seem right.
As they walked up the main street of Hogsmeade, Hermione watched Shiloh hug her new toy owl fiercely. Her stomach twisted and one thought became clear.
Shiloh deserved a proper birthday.
"Hey, Draco," she said as they strolled past Dervish and Banges, "what do you say we stop by Honeydukes and order a birthday cake for Shiloh?"
Draco paused, wiping a stray blossom from his hair. "A birthday cake?"
Hermione shrugged. "I just—thinking about Teddy's birthday and calling that new toy a birthday present… Shouldn't we start planning something for Shiloh?"
She watched as a series of conflicting expressions passed over his face. Hermione liked to think she knew Draco well—liked to think that she knew what was going on in his head. She knew how worried he was about Shiloh's birthday coinciding with the deaths of so many friends… how he worried about how he would be perceived if they transformed a solemn time into a celebration.
Hermione watched as worry lines appeared on Draco's forehead, his gaze moving from Shiloh to Honeydukes, across the street. She could see him fighting the instincts to run and hide that had been planted in him ever since his days sitting in a Ministry cell.
But in a moment that came as a surprise, that worry faded from his face quickly, and was replaced by a tentative smile. "Yeah. Let's… let's take care of that while we're out. I'd like to order a cake for her party."
Hermione reached out and squeezed Draco's shoulder. "Maybe it'll be good to have something to distract us."
Draco heaved a sigh. "Yeah... Distraction."
Crouching down, Hermione scooped Shiloh up and placed the little girl on her hip, which was starting to get more difficult. At nearly nineteen weeks pregnant, her stomach had really popped, and all the extra weight around her middle wasn't exactly kind to her back.
Draco looked warily at her for a moment, but before he could say anything about her straining herself too much, she spoke again.
"Let's go, then. Come on, pixie. Do you want to pick out your cake with Mummy and Daddy?"
Shiloh clapped her hands as they made their way across the street.
Thirty minutes and five cake samples later, Hermione's pregnant self was purring with the satisfaction of having consumed so much sugar. They had also placed an order: a chocolate cake with green frosting—Draco's idea, naturally. And after consulting with Shiloh about how she wanted it decorated (Hermione was feeling grateful that Shiloh had learned to nod over a month ago), they had decided to decorate the top with a dragon that was enchanted to breathe fire made of candy floss every four minutes.
It was going to be an excellent birthday cake. So excellent, perhaps, that they might be able to forget about the ghosts of the past for a little while.
Hermione held onto Shiloh during their walk up to the castle, despite Draco's protests. Shiloh tangled her little fingers in her mummy's curls and leaned her head on her shoulder.
As Hermione walked, she thought about how it was nice to have something to look forward to on the days surrounding the anniversary. If it hadn't been for Shiloh, perhaps they would have only been filled with darkness and dread.
Petals were swirling in the air again. Hermione wondered briefly if petals had swirled like this on the Hogwarts grounds last spring. It didn't seem possible, with all the evil that had surrounded this castle and their entire world a year ago. All she could remember was the destruction of war rather than the beauty of spring. There was something quite beautiful about the petals, yet something ephemeral as well.
As she watched the little pink and white flowers drift on the wind, it struck her for the very first time that just maybe, while the pain from the war would linger for the rest of their lives, its tenacity, like the flowers, was fleeting.
What was stronger was the love they had for their daughter and soon, their son—and for this life they were building from the ashes of the war. That love was like the trees scattered throughout the grounds, steady and unmoving, season after season, year after year.
And part of that love was celebrating their daughter's life—celebrating her birthday by bringing as much joy to their scarred world as they could.
Hermione adjusted Shiloh on her hip, turning her head to press a kiss onto her forehead. As Shiloh's weight shifted around her expanded waist, a sharp pain shot through her lower stomach briefly. It wasn't like the fluttering kicks she had begun to feel recently. This was… different. She must have made some sort of noise, because Draco paused and looked her up and down.
"Are you all right?" Concern in his eyes. He didn't wait for a response. "Here, let me hold Shiloh." Draco reached out his arms.
"That's okay. I've got her." Hermione rearranged Shiloh again, this time without pain.
Draco gave her a look that said, 'If you must' and continued up the path to the castle.
By the time they reached the castle, Shiloh was passed out on Hermione's shoulder. They did their best to slip past the rowdy game of Exploding Snap happening in the Eighth Year common room and up to their little flat, where Hermione immediately made her way to the nursery.
With Shiloh down and out for the time being, Hermione collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and summoned a glass of water. She was tired and out of breath; Shiloh was definitely getting heavier and she needed a break.
As Draco stole a moment to himself in the loo, she took the time to relax, leaning onto the back of the chair with a sigh. This pregnancy was definitely taking a higher toll on her than her last one, despite carrying Shiloh nearly to term during a war.
Madam Pomfrey had warned them that this pregnancy was far more precarious, her placenta attached in a highly-scarred area of her uterus. Thankfully, during their biweekly antenatal checks, nothing had been abnormal so far. Now that she was firmly into her second trimester, she felt more reassured. Tomorrow would be their official mid-pregnancy scan, and a specialized mediwitch from St. Mungo's was scheduled to visit the Hogwarts Hospital Wing just for them.
Tomorrow they would physically confirm the sex of the baby and take thorough measurements for the first time. She was a bit nervous, but mostly, she was excited to see Scorpius again. It had taken her a while to warm up to the idea of becoming a mother of two before the age of twenty, but she already loved Scorpius dearly, and spent many evenings reading to him from Shiloh's storybooks.
Draco had taken to singing to her protruding belly, which Hermione found all too heartwarming. She fluctuated between amused and completely besotted on the nights when he laid on their bed, perched on his elbows as he sang some little song.
"Five little dragons
Growing in big and strong
Swooping and flying
All day long."
Draco's ears turned red every time he sang, and afterward, he swore her to secrecy.
Hand over her heart, she promised never to tell a single soul what an adorable father he was.
In fact, Draco sometimes reminded Hermione of her own father: serious to most of the world, yet kind-hearted and even silly with their own children.
As Hermione thought of her father, her thoughts drifted to the counter, where a letter from her parents sat, slightly crumpled. They had received that letter just yesterday, after reaching out to them by owl a few weeks ago. In the initial letter set to Australia, they let her parents know about their second pregnancy, inviting them to come for the birth of their grandson and even their granddaughter's first birthday. Hermione had poured every ounce of hope she had into that letter, imbuing it with all her good thoughts as she sent it off with a tawny owl back in March.
Unfortunately, their clipped response hadn't been what she was hoping for.
Hermione,
Thank you for letting us know about the impending birth of your second child. Your mum and I talked, and we believe we'll be referring to him as Nathaniel. As to paying you a visit, we really can't. Our mobile dental practice is just kicking off for the season, and we are needed here in Australia.
Happy birthday to Shiloh!
Mum and Dad
There had been no other questions about her wellbeing—about her pregnancy—even about school.
Hermione had cried for over an hour after receiving the note, but hadn't had the heart to rip it up or vanish it. Instead, she just left it out, as if another re-read would reveal some sort of hidden affectionate message she hadn't caught the first time.
She had read it again. Several times, and there were no other messages.
Instead, the very sight of it made her blood run cold. She didn't want to see it—didn't want to compare Draco to her father any more. Draco would never abandon Shiloh and Scorpius when they needed him most.
Would he?
Heartbeat ringing wildly in her ears, Hermione pushed herself up from her chair and stomped across the kitchen, fully intending to rip up her parents' letter into a thousand tiny pieces; to shred it with the wand that had already caused such a rift between them. The smooth, white paper in her hand had clearly been grabbed from a printer. After handling parchment for so long, its texture felt strange in her hand.
She placed two hands at the top, intent on ripping it clean in two. As she did, a short pain crossed over the surface of her stomach, but it died down as soon as it came. She gathered her strength, but as she began the necessary wrist movement, she paused.
This piece of paper was the only bit of her parents she had received in the last several months. They hadn't bothered to reach out since last summer.
That hurt. That hurt her more than she could describe with words.
But what hurt more was the thought of not having any bit of her parents to hold onto.
Hermione's arms dropped to her side, the paper still pressed between the fingers of her right hand. She blinked back tears at the thought of what she had almost done.
She had spent nearly a year worrying after her parents' safety. She would have given anything to hear their voices or see their handwriting during those trying days, stuck in a tent with an uncertain and dangerous future.
And now, surrounded by nothing but happy news to share, she was going to rip up their precious words?
Hermione almost loathed herself for needing her parents so badly, but she shoved that thought to the back of her mind to analyse another time. For now, she just wasn't ready to get rid of that letter. Instead, she padded across the room, folding the paper as she did.
She needed a place to tuck the letter, where she wouldn't see it often or think of it, but where she could feel at ease, knowing it was still there. From the moment she entered the bedroom she shared with Draco, her eyes landed on his trunk. She never really looked inside it before, in fact the only time she ever saw its contents were when Draco happened to open it to retrieve something.
Surely, he wouldn't mind if she just tucked it into a far corner.
Hermione knelt by the trunk and unlatched it. The contents inside were well-organized, much as she would have expected. Unlike Ron and Harry, Draco knew how to pick up after himself. Hermione chuckled at the brief distraction before digging past his neat pile of socks to find an innocuous corner to stuff the letter.
But… that was odd.
There were already a handful of letters there.
Tilting her head, Hermione reached down and grabbed one. Unlike the rest of his trunk, which was impeccable, this note was crumpled and ripped. It was as though Draco had stuffed it in his trunk in anger.
Flattening the parchment against her knees, she read its contents.
As she did, her stomach instantly dropped.
There, written in ugly blank ink were three words that sent a chill down her spine.
Death Eater Slut
What in Merlin's name was this? She flipped the parchment over, but found nothing. Blinking in confusion, she reached inside the trunk for another letter.
You and your family disgust me.
She reached for another.
Your spawn are unnatural and deserve to rot at the bottom of the Black Lake.
Hermione's head spun as she pulled out letter after letter, each one more horrific than the last. What were all of these letters doing in Draco's trunk? Did that mean he knew about them? It certainly seemed that way…
He hadn't mentioned any new threats. Not for months. They had driven him spare during autumn term, but they had sorted that out. He had moved on.
Hadn't he?
And if all these letters continued to arrive, then how was he even keeping it together?
Why would he do this—keep this secret from her? Weren't they supposed to be open about these sorts of things? Share the burden? Work out the problem together?
And if these threats kept coming, were they in actual danger?
Resentment burned inside Hermione, and she felt her jaw tighten. Angry tears gathered at the edges of her eyes, though they didn't fall.
How could he?
Hermione was still sitting on the bedroom floor, the letters scattered around her when Draco returned from the loo. He sauntered in, hands in his trouser pockets, but his carefree expression quickly morphed into one of alarm. His eyes darted from the pieces of parchment surrounding Hermione to his open trunk. Before Hermione even had a chance to say anything, he jumped in, voice cracking.
"Look, Hermione. I can explain—"
"Explain? Explain what exactly, Draco?" she snapped, climbing to her feet with great effort. "Explain how this maniac has continued to threaten our family? Explain how you've been purposely keeping it a secret from me? Because I'd like to hear all about that."
Draco seemed to shrink under her gaze, but he recovered quickly, squaring his shoulders.
"I was protecting you," he said in a tone that screamed 'well-isn't-it-obvious', his arms waving wildly. "You… didn't want to fight about the threats anymore. And the more I thought about them, the more I realised that they were all bark and no bite." He paused, swallowing. Hermione watched his throat bob nervously. "So even though threats kept coming, I… I didn't want to burden you with them. Madam Pomfrey said—"
"To hell with what Madam Pomfrey said!" Hermione could feel her body vibrate with anger, fingers curling into fists at her side. "Withholding information that could be dangerous to us—to our family—do you honestly think that this is less stressful for me than if you would have just told me?"
Draco shuffled his feet. "Well, you weren't supposed to find out."
"That's definitely not the point here!" She stopped her foot, brow furrowing. "The point is that you didn't trust me. I mean… do you trust me?"
"What?" Draco took a step forward, his arm stretched out toward her. "Of course I trust you—"
"Because my parents certainly don't trust me. All the departments at the Ministry don't seem to trust me. Why would you be any different?"
"Hermione, calm down. You're getting hysterical, and the baby—"
"The baby will be fine!" Hermione batted away his reaching hands, taking a small step backwards to stay out of his grasp. "What I want to know is why you can't bring yourself to tell me that someone is threatening our family."
Draco hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck and taking deep breaths.
"I just didn't want to upset you. I thought that I could handle it all on my own."
"And did you? Have the threats stopped?"
Draco pursed his lips. "No."
From behind them, a sudden tapping came at the window. Hermione whipped around to see an owl perched just outside, its yellow eyes peering inside insistently. Behind her, Draco groaned, and Hermione's anger swell inside her.
Before Draco could say anything else, she marched over to the window, unlatched it, and let the owl inside. A bit of parchment was rolled up and tied to its leg. Hermione undid the string and pulled the letter off. Holding it between her fore and middle fingers, she turned to face Draco, eyebrows raised.
"Is this what I think it is?" she asked, ice in her voice.
Draco sucked in his cheeks and nodded. "Probably."
Resentment still bubbling inside, Hermione turned the parchment and unrolled it. What she saw made her want to vomit. There, in scratchy handwriting was a message that made her blood run cold.
So many died for your daughter to live. How many will die for your son?
Hermione stared blankly at the parchment, the words swirling in her mind. What did the sender mean? Who died in order for Shiloh to live? It just didn't make any sense.
"It's the same person." Draco's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He had moved from his spot near the door to peek over her shoulder at the letter. "The handwriting is the same."
Hermione frowned. "How often have these been coming?" She traced her fingers over the writing and tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.
"Every week or so." Draco shifted his weight between the balls of her feet, hands slipping into the front pockets of his trousers as he peered at the slip of parchment. "And they're always like this. Horrible, but vague. Like someone is trying to wear us down instead of actually hurt us."
Hermione crumpled the new letter in her hand and turned back to the pile on the floor. They were arranged in a circle; in the center sat the bright white printer paper from her parents.
Oddly enough, that letter felt far too similar to all the others.
Hermione pushed that thought aside. "Do you have any idea who's doing this?"
Draco shook his head. "It's someone at Hogwarts. I know that much. And as to who it actually is, I have an idea, but I haven't been able to prove anything."
For some inexplicable reason, this comment just infuriated Hermione even more. She felt her blood pressure rise as she clenched her fists, her face flushing and every muscle tensing. "Then why not let me help you figure it out?" She threw her hands in the air. "Maybe you're just learning this about me, but I am better at research than any other student at this school—I could have helped. Could have shared the burden."
She felt like crying now—felt betrayed by Draco's mistrust. Her chest ached as though it had been squeezed too tight. She couldn't even look at him.
"Hermione, I'm sorry—"
"Apologising won't cut it, Draco."
"Then what will?"
"I don't know." As she spoke, she felt her heart—and his, breaking. "I just—I just need to be alone."
Draco licked his lips. Hermione could see his chest heaving with the effort of holding his tongue. After a few tries, opening and closing his mouth, he finally spoke.
"Please, Hermione. I just wanted to protect you. Let me stay." His voice cracked. "Please."
For half a moment, Hermione considered giving in. She'd open her arms and Draco would collapse into them. He'd apologise some more and pepper her with kisses.
But as appealing as that seemed, she just wasn't ready.
"Draco, I need you to go. I… I can't be around you right now."
Draco looked as though he was going to cry for a moment, but he nodded and turned to leave instead.
"Just—take care of yourself, okay, Hermione?" he said before disappearing into the hallway. A few seconds later later, Hermione heard the door to their little flat open and close.
Silently, with heavy limbs, Hermione gathered all the letters and placed them back in Draco's trunk, neatly and tucked into the back corner like before. Then, feeling suddenly very tired, Hermione curled up in the middle of their bed and cried herself to sleep.
So... Hermione knows about the threats now.
In The Gift of Joy, Hermione kept her pregnancy secret. Now, Draco has kept a big secret as well.
These two have grown a lot, but still have much growing to do.
Also, thank you all so, so much for the uptick in reviews with the last chapter. It means more than I can say. For much of this story (maybe it's because it's a sequel, maybe it's because it deals with some hard topics/squicks) I haven't been getting nearly the same amount of feedback that I got with The Gift of Joy, so it kind of felt like I was throwing the story out into the void, despite the number of views. Anywho, the point is, I appreciate and love you all.
Until next time!