The room was larger than he remembered. He looked at the walls and watched as a bay unicorn turned and examined him from its bower under a banana palm. Lush tropical foliage dominated the mural, but other magical beasts glanced his way as he reached for Hermione's hand.
He looked at the mahogany bookcase already stuffed with books and the basket toys arranged beside a deeply piled carpet that looked like a riot of flowers was blooming on it. The crib was already dressed in light green sheets. The dark wood was carved so it appeared to be made of flowering vines.
"This looks nothing like Draco's room." Lucius glanced up at the ceiling and saw the play of tropical sun through a jungle like canopy. "It's as if we've stepped into another place."
Hermione squeezed his fingers and walked over to the rocking chair. He watched her fingers trace the dark wood and settle on a shell pink blanket with flowers embroidered into it. He dragged a breath in through his nose and managed to stay on his feet.
"The house seems to think we are having a girl." Hermione lifted the blanket toward him and he blinked before reaching out a shaking hand for it.
"There hasn't been a daughter in the Malfoy line for generations." Lucius held the blanket in his fingers and looked up at his lovely wife. "I never imagined I would be so blessed."
"You need to muzzle that termagant you're with." Draco looked sideways at Potter. "She's pressing her luck. My father may not be moving in society at the moment, but the rumors are growing. With Hermione carrying his child, he will not tolerate the sullying of her reputation."
"What rumors?" Harry turned away from the quidditch game to look directly at him.
"She's telling anyone that will listen that any decent witch would have chosen death over a death eater. She's also called Hermione desperate for fame." Draco stopped listing things when Harry's eyes began to glow. "Astoria tried to warn her, but we didn't know Hermione would wind up pregnant. Hermione is giving life to the line. Even if he didn't care for her at all, my father would honor her gift. He takes familial responsibility very seriously. He won't allow Ginny to smear Hermione like this."
"What can he do? She has a right to say what she wants." Harry sighed. "I've asked her to stop, but she loathes your father. If it irks him, she will only get worse."
"He may not be allowed to sit in the family seat of the Wizengamot, but he can still stand before them. He can force her to prove her words." Draco glanced toward the match when the crowd roared. "It's an ancient practice. It's why we never bothered with libel or slander laws. The consequences are far worse than a trip to Azkaban."
"Why doesn't anybody use it if it's such a deterrent? Why hasn't Skeeter been forced to prove her words." Harry clenched his fists on top of his thighs. "She lies and gossips all the time."
"The last time the rite was invoked two pureblood families were destroyed." Draco shrugged. "It's been more or less taboo since, but Father will use it."
"Why? If it's taboo, why would he take the risk?" Harry relaxed his hands and rubbed his denim clad legs. "Why would he do something to draw attention to himself?"
"Hermione is carrying his child." Draco frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "She's giving life to our line. There is no more precious gift. The old ways demand that we protect her honor."
"She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself." Harry frowned. "And she won't like being coddled or defended like some helpless child."
"What she likes or doesn't like has nothing to do with this. Her honor is ours to safeguard. It's part of our magic." Draco looked down at his hands. "I'm feeling the pull to defend her. It will be a lot stronger for my father."
"So, you feel some magical need to protect Hermione." Harry grinned. "Times really have changed."
"He loves her, Harry." Draco swallowed and met Harry's gaze steadily. "It's different than it was with my mum, but it's real. He will burn down the world to protect her. He won't fail her. You have to stop Ginny."
Harry nodded and turned back to the game. Draco took a breath and watched as the crowd cheered around him. The sense of foreboding that haunted his every minute still plagued him. He couldn't even enjoy quidditch anymore.
Neville found Hermione sitting on a pathway of the orangery by a lushly blooming silver lime. Her hands were wrist deep in the soil. The magic flowing out from her and back into her was a palpable thing.
"Most witches don't bother with the old ways anymore." Neville smiled as her eyes opened and he was caught in her slightly glowing gaze.
"A shame, really." She pulled her hands up from the soil. "It helps the land and feeds clean magic into the womb. She placed her palm against her white shirt over her rounded belly. "I want her to have every advantage. I never thought I'd live long enough to have a child."
"Professor Sprout has been thrilled with the quality of the plants we've received, so it's working." Neville sat down on the path with her. "My mum did the same when she was pregnant with me. I don't remember what she was like, but when I work in the gardens at home, I can feel her."
"You've heard the rumors." Hermione looked up at the ornate metal work holding the glass ceiling in place. "I never intended to fall in love with Lucius. Our childhood was defined by death and sorrow. I was so tired of it, of the waste."
"I'm not judging you." Neville looked into her eyes. "We've always been friends. I hope we always will."
"Astoria told me about what Ginny has been saying. She didn't want me blindsided by it. I don't care what she says about me, and Lucius has earned her enmity." Hermione looked down at her belly and sighed. "The things she says, there is a chance my daughter will hear them someday. I wish there was some way I could protect her from all of it."
"You will, Hermione." Neville looked around them. "You will tell her the truth and show her that love is transformative. You're already giving her so much. Have faith in yourself."
Neville glanced back at Hermione and smiled. His own doubts had been laid to rest. Hermione was still very much the girl that helped him find his toad and cemented her place in his life. The war had scarred them all, but Hermione had never given up. He took a deep breath of the heavily scented air. His hope for a better future was rooted here.
"It was easier when it was us and them." Neville shrugged. "It was easy, but it was wrong. We have to come together as a people. I think you and Lucius are giving us a glimpse of what wonders that future holds."
Astoria frowned as she approached the wards of the Weasley home. She didn't want to do this, but the men were running heedlessly towards chaos. She took a deep breath and let her magic flow and trigger the wards.
Molly Weasley apparated to a space just across the wards from her. Astoria took in the woman's appearance, but didn't let it take her in. This witch had taken down Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Why are you here?" Molly Weasley slid her fingers along her wand.
"What would Arthur Weasley have done if your honor was besmirched when you were pregnant?" Astoria met the older witch's gaze. "I've tried talking to your daughter, but she was not swayed. Draco has been feeling the pull to defend his stepmother. I have been feeling it."
She saw the flash of understanding in the Weasley matriarch's eyes.
"Hermione is expecting." Molly looked to the left and stared at the orchard. "Lucius Malfoy doesn't deserve another chance. He didn't hold life very dear when he tried to kill my daughter. His kind killed my brothers and my son. Hermione has made her choice. I don't understand it. I won't."
"Lucius Malfoy is a traditional wizard." Astoria interrupted the older witch's diatribe. "He will act to defend his wife. This could get messy. Talk to your daughter. Make her see sense."
"I think my daughter sees things quite clearly." Molly Weasley glared at her. "You were bound by a contract, but she made a choice. Let her live with the consequences."
Astoria took a deep breath. There was nothing left to do. Daphne had thought a direct appeal to Molly Weasley might work, but the women was too comfortable in her hatred to see the danger ahead.
"Thank you for your time." Astoria nodded to the Weasley matriarch before apparating away.
Lucius forced himself to take deep breaths. He stalked down the long hallway to his daughter's room. The door opened easily for him and he stepped into the blessed space.
One of his estate managers had mentioned hearing some gossip. He felt his magic surge inside him as he fought for control. The Weasley chit was saying awful things about his wife, about the mother of his child.
Images of her flowed through his mind. Her hair splayed across their sheets, her head thrown back in laughter, her lips quirked in amusement, her eyes damp with tears.
Hermione.
His Hermione.
He couldn't risk her. He couldn't lose her. He shoved his fingers into the hair at his temples.
He pressed the urge to simply kill the Weasley chit down and forced his magic to calm. Leaving his family unprotected was unacceptable. Another trip to Azkaban would leave them all vulnerable. He needed to stay within the bounds of the law.
Forcing his body to relax, he released his hair and rolled his shoulders. Logic and patience would see him through this. He picked up his daughter's blanket and considered how best to protect his beloved family.