a/n: Hello everyone I hope you're all doing well! So this story isn't for the faint of heart, I think, especially if you are pregnant or have children because it deals with the whole pro-life/pro-choice debate and I don't glaze over the events leading to a tragedy. I ask you to proceed with caution! You have been warned hehe :)

Also btw this is a two-part story I'm going to update this as soon as I can!

That's all, enjoy reading!

Hermione's phone blared, jerking her awake with a startled gasp.

She looked around her, noticing that she had once again fallen asleep while watching kids' cartoons. The bowl that had earlier been full of grapes was now tilted and empty, and the round violet fruits scattered across the floor, having been toppled over in her sleep.

"Bugger," she mumbled. She bent over with great difficulty to pick them up when her phone rang again. Her head pivoted to the coffee table, and she wondered who exactly might be calling her with a Muggle cell phone. It was Ginny Potter.

"Gin?"

" Hey, Hermione, " Ginny answered.

"Hi," she said, getting off the couch to sit on the floor where she could pick up the grapes much more easily. "You're finally using that Muggle cell, huh?"

The girl at the other end of the line chuckled. " Yeah, I'm getting used to it. Harry says it's more convenient, and I have to agree with him. You know, he taught me how to download these things called apps where you can play games!"

Hermione smiled.

She continued, " Harry's also given one to Dad. Imagine his amusement, Hermione! He's practically fused to his phone! Won't let go of it, even in the loo."

"Addictive things, phones are. Just make sure James doesn't get his hands on them." Hermione reached under the couch to retrieve some more fallen grapes.

"I know. Too late for that, though," she replied. "Harry says he wants the kids to know all about Muggles, just as well as the Wizarding World."

Hermione chuckled at her friends' antics. "Good luck. Harry's a stubborn one. I'm sure you know all about it."

" Yeah." She paused. "He'll be in Bulgaria with Ronald for two more weeks, and I really miss them. Harry more than Ron, but don't tell him I said that. " Ginny chuckled. " And… and what about him ? Does he use a Muggle phone as well? "

"I did give him one, but he's still hesitant because… you know, it's a Muggle contraption. Doesn't know if he can trust it, apparently." She chuckled softly.

"Right, right. Erm, so… how-how are you, Hermione? "

Uh-oh. A hesitant Ginny is never a good sign, Hermione thought. "I'm great. Currently picking grapes off the floor—you know how hard it is when you've got a massive belly."

" Good, good, " She cleared her throat and paused before asking, " Is he treating you well? "

Hermione winced inwardly. There it is .

After all these years, none of her friends approved of her relationship with their once-enemy. Instead, they did the bare minimum of tolerating him whenever he was around… which wasn't a lot. He, too, avoided them at all costs. She didn't blame them, however. The man in question hasn't given anybody much reason to believe he has changed. "He is," Hermione replied. "We're happy."

The silence on the other end of the line lasted precisely seven seconds. And then quietly, Ginny mumbled, " still no plans to tie the knot, though ."

This time, Hermione sighed audibly. "Gin… I–I dunno. I really don't want to–to pressure him into anything."

The married woman groaned. " It's been eight years, Hermione. Nine next week, and you're already carrying his child— "

"I know," she snapped, and it came out a little bit harsher than she thought. "I know… more than anyone," she said more gently. "I just… I understand that his views on marriage are different from ours. To him, marriage is just something people do when they want to benefit from each other's… I dunno, wealth or ancestors, I guess. No love, whatsoever. I don't even think his parents even loved each other."

" Look… can I be frank? "

"Go on."

" I mean it… I'm about to cross a line. Are you sure? "

"Lay it on me, Gin."

" Right, so… " she trailed off, pausing for two breaths. " We just think that… he doesn't care about you as much as you do, Hermione. And you… you're so brilliant and beautiful and kind and everything that he's not… you deserve better. "

Hermione nodded, having expected something like this since Ginny's caller ID appeared on her phone. "I… I know that that's how it looks. But he really is different around me, Gin. He's tough, and sometimes crass with other people, but when we're alone, he… he bares his soul."

In her mind's eye, she saw a memory of herself and Draco lazily eating ice cream in each other's arms on the couch while watching cartoons. Draco stained her cheek with chocolate ice cream, and she didn't let him get away with it, smearing it on his forehead in return. That eventually escalated into a full-on ice cream fight… and then a snogging session in the shower as they cleaned up. "I do believe that he will change, and I'm sticking around for it."

Ginny was silent, but Hermione could practically hear her grimace on the other line. " We just want to see you happy, sweetheart. "

"And I am. Really, I am. Don't worry about me. Draco's… he's… well, I love him. And I understand that he's a work in progress, but so am I. Just trust me when I say that he's treating me well, and we're happy."

After the phone call ended, Hermione felt the slightest bit gloomy. The truth was, she envied Ginny's relationship with Harry. Not Harry himself, no. Harry was only a friend to her. Instead, she craved how they were both almost always on the same page in terms of their marriage. She could only hope that Draco would—

No. Hermione stopped that train of thought with a shake of her head. She wouldn't want to be unfair to him. She respected his decisions. They had already talked about this. Draco wanted nothing to do with the whole institution of marriage… but she was secretly hoping that little Scorpius would change that.

Hermione sighed and collected the last grape on the floor. She wobbled on her knees, using the grey couch as leverage to get up. She reached for the remote control on the table and turned off the telly. The yellow talking sponge disappeared before her eyes.

Draco and Hermione, though unmarried, have been living together for eight years. Hermione refused to move into Malfoy Manor with all its sinister artifacts, ghosts, and secret passageways... not to mention the fact that Draco's aunt tortured her in the drawing room. So Draco had agreed to live in her Muggle, two-bedroom flat.

She sighed and walked to the bookshelf. If there was any reason to regret not living in the Manor, it was its extensive library. Draco's family owned a library, and it was practically bursting with books… or so she was told. She hasn't actually set foot in that house since the war. It was times like this when she imagined what the library would look like. A haven for bibliophiles, for sure. Especially those who had a penchant for a little bit of Dark Magic on the side.

Her index finger grazed the spines of old books. She had read all of these books at least thrice before, so she knew exactly what to expect. She blindly selected a brown one with water-damaged pages and sat back on the grey sofa, perching the book atop her protruding belly.

She hadn't been reading long when she frowned and put it down. Actually, she hadn't been reading at all . Her eyes swept over the inky words, but her mind lingered on Ginny's phone call. She couldn't help but think… if her friends thought he was hopeless, then..

No. Draco isn't hopeless. Every time he looked at her, she saw, clear as day, that he loved her back. It didn't matter to her that he hadn't told her verbally, because he showed her. That was all that mattered.

Besides, once Scorpius was born, he would soften. She had a feeling.

Hermione shut the book and placed it on the sofa with a soft thud. She caressed her stomach, smiling when Scorpius gave a faint kick. Hermione gasped at the suddenness.

"I can't wait to see you, darling," she whispered. "You are going to be the most loved little boy in the whole wide world. You'll want for nothing, and you'll be so happy, you'll share the happiness with everyone around you. I love you so much." A single tear trickled down her face, dropping on her belly.

"Your daddy loves you too, darling. He doesn't know it yet, but he loves you very much," Hermione said.

Melancholy hit her hard. When Draco had found out his girlfriend was pregnant, he thought she was crying tears of despair instead of joy. He had then arranged for her to terminate the pregnancy because of this misunderstanding, but Hermione firmly rejected it. She wanted this baby. She had never been more certain of anything in her life. It was proof that they loved each other so much, the love overflowed and spilled into another human being. Draco, however, was less accepting. Growing up, he always knew it was his duty to become a father. And the more this idea was forced onto him, the less he wanted it. It also didn't help that his own father was the exact opposite of what fatherhood should look like. He wanted nothing to do with the late Lucius Malfoy. Being associated with him was something he very dearly loathed. As a result, the pair have had many an argument over this baby, but Hermione remained unshaken.

"Speaking of daddy, he'll be home soon," she said, glancing at the clock. "What do you say, Scorp? Want to make him a special treat?"

He kicked back.

Hermione chuckled. "That's my boy."

She went to work on a hearty Shepherd's pie, mumbling her thoughts to the baby in her stomach.

By seven in the evening, Draco flooed home carrying a big bag of what Hermione realized was money from Gringotts. He was evidently exhausted, sighing as he hung his robes on the coat hanger.

Hermione approached him. "Welcome home," she said, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "How was Gringotts?"

"Wankers, the lot of them," he said sourly, removing his overcoat. "There was an issue with my identity, apparently. They had to make sure I wasn't polyjucied. They do it all the time, even if they know who I am. It's bloody absurd." He rolled his eyes in disapproval.

Hermione knew the reason for this additional security measure but stayed quiet.

Draco inhaled. "What's that smell? You cooked?"

She beamed and took his hand, leading him to the kitchen where she placed the Shepherd's pie on the counter. It was still steaming, thus emitting the savory aromas. "I made Shepherd's pie. Your favorite." She donned mittens and took the pie to the dining room, which she had already magicked to set itself up with plates and cutlery. Draco sat across from her.

He told her about the meeting that the Hogwarts Board of Governors were to have the next day. The student population skyrocketed over the past few years, which made living spaces packed with students. The governors decided to invest and pitch in for the construction of new dormitories. Draco—the only direct descendant of the Malfoy family—has taken the seat in lieu of his father. Hence his trip to Gringotts.

"What about you?" Draco asked. "How was your day?"

"Well, I slept for most of it. Watched some cartoons, read a book… and…" Hermione hesitated. "Ginny called."

If she didn't know Draco as well as she did, she wouldn't have noticed the vein jump from clenching his jaw. "Yeah? What did the She-Weasel want?"

After all these years, he still refers to her as the She-Weasel, Hermione thought. Outwardly, she said, "just checking up, is all."

He dropped his fork, and it clanged noisily with the plate. "Did she try to convince you to break up with me again?" His tone was poisonous.

Hermoine gave a noncommittal shrug.

Draco shook his head, nostrils flared. "Unbelievable. Can't mind her own bloody business, can she?"

"Yeah, but we're friends, Draco. It's what we do." There was a pause. "By the way, you forgot your phone at home again." She added to alleviate the tension.

Draco never liked any of Hermione's friends. Every time they were invited to a Weasley brunch with everybody present, Draco would pass and make up excuses not to join. In the same way, her friends weren't too keen on him either. They only tolerated him for Hermione's sake, but they wouldn't otherwise. Strangely enough, out of everyone, Draco got along with Luna the most. Hermione reckoned it was because Luna didn't ignore his presence completely every time he entered a room.

Hermione continued, "anyway… our anniversary is next week." She perked up, giving him a cheerful smile. "What are our plans?"

"I dunno." Hermione could tell that his sour mood had been made even worse by Ginny.

She ignored it, pretending not to notice. "We could go to Greece. Santorini isn't crowded this time of year. Or we can go to America. Oh, or South Africa. I've got friends from there who—"

"Anywhere's fine." Draco stood abruptly from the table, leaving his unfinished pie on the plate.

Hermione stared at his empty seat for a while with her mouth agape.

Did he just walk out on me? She thought.

The chair scraped the wooden floor as Hermione stood and followed him out of the dining room. The bedroom door was open, and she found him inside, undoing his cufflinks.

"Draco, what's wrong? You haven't even finished your food."

He turned his back to her and didn't make a sound.

"We can just stay at home if you don't fancy a holiday." She approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Draco—"

He shook it off. "She's right," he said under his breath.

"What?"

"Potter's wife is right. 'M not good enough for you."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "We've been over this. I don't care what other people think." She placed herself in front of him and put her hands on either side of his face. "You're what I want."

"Don't be stupid." He let himself out of her grasp, walking to the loo.

"Draco, don't walk out on me when I'm not finished speaking." She said in a different tone from earlier. This time, she was hurt at his treatment of her, especially when she made food just for him. She didn't even like Shepherd's pie.

He paused, back still turned to her. As if in slow motion, he pivoted on his heel to look at her. "What do you want?"

"To have a normal conversation." She took three tentative steps towards him. "Talk to me. Why did you say she was right?"

"Because she is. You should just break up with me. Nobody else thinks this… this relationship is a good idea."

If Hermione was hurt, she didn't show it. "Do you think that way?"

He poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek. "Doesn't matter what I think."

"It matters to me. If you tell me you don't want to do this anymore because of what other people think, then you're a fool." She said, her face heating up. "Now… is that what you want?"

It took him a while to respond. Every second felt like a hammer to her heart. Finally, he shook his head.

Hermione was relieved, but her face was stoic. "Thought so," she paused. "Besides, once Scorpius is born, everyone's going to love him."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Draco never talked about his unborn child if he could help it. When he did, he never said good things. "A bloody infant isn't going to do us good, Granger." He said with a frown.

"Take that back."

He challenged her by staying silent.

Hermione said, "Take that back, Draco. Scorpius is the best thing that's ever happened to us." Protectively, she placed her hand atop her belly

He shook his head. "You never even told me you wanted a child." He started to walk away.

She took his elbow and forced him to turn around. "Would it have changed anything?"

"What about me, Granger? Hmm? Did you ever think to ask me ?" He stalked towards her slowly in an effort to intimidate her.

Hermione was stunned into silence.

"Did you ever think that maybe I don't want brats running around?" He walked away from her again. He does that a lot, walk away . Under his breath, he said, "for fuck's sake, I can't believe I was careless enough to forget about the bloody contraceptive charm."

"You don't mean that." Tears blurred Hermione's vision, and she blinked them away. "You have no idea how… how incandescently happy I am that we've conceived something as great as this—"

"Happy?" Draco scoffed coldly. "Cut the crap, Granger. You and I both know you're just too ashamed to abort it."

She stared at him with her mouth wide open. A pin dropping would be thunderous in the otherwise silent bedroom. The look on his face was enough to send her heart under a bus. "I can't believe you just said that. How can you be so… so cruel ?" she half-whispered.

His nostrils flared, but he said nothing. He leaned against the doorframe and ran his hand over his platinum hair.

Hermione's emotions hit her so strongly; she had to sit on the bed so as not to lose her balance. "Maybe Ginny was right," she said, dazedly staring at the floor.

She heard rather than saw Draco huff indignantly. "Yeah. Maybe." At that, he left her bedroom.

Draco did not sleep with her that night. Either he slept on the spare bed in what was going to be Scorpius's bedroom or on the sofa. Hermione didn't know.

It was an hour past midnight, and Hermione was trying to cry herself to sleep. Tears made her sleepy, but her mind was unforgiving. It replayed the fight over and over in her head until Draco's indignance was burned onto the backs of her eyelids. She felt crushed. Not even Scorpius was there for her. She had felt around for hours for at least just a small kick, to no avail. He was sad, too.

She knew that Draco didn't mean it. He just… he was raised by a dictator-like figure, and deep down, he feared he was going to be just like his father. Yes. That was all. Or at least, Hermione tried to convince herself that it was.

And then there was the issue of their relationship. For eight years, they had resolved everything but this. Draco always thought he wasn't good enough for her, no matter how many times she tried to reassure him that she didn't think so. Was this really the end? When the sun would rise, did that signify a time's-up on their eight-year relationship?

With all her heart, Hermione prayed to whoever deity was listening. She asked for a sign, even if it was just a small sign to show her what she was supposed to do.

Hermione drifted into a fitful slumber, dreaming of nothing but a little boy with blonde hair and brown eyes. He looked to be about six.

Scorpius.

He was standing in an empty, vast room. The room was red. He appeared to be looking for someone, something… Hermione didn't know. She called out to him, but he didn't hear her. She ran towards him, then, but it felt like running backward, for every step towards him only increased the distance between the two. So she screamed louder for her little boy… her little boy who was still confused and disoriented.

And then, all of a sudden, he turned to Hermione, his big brown eyes locking onto hers.

He opened his mouth. "Mum?"

Hermione jolted awake, panting. The duvet was completely soaked through with her sweat. She clutched her swollen belly and cried for what felt like hours.

This. This was her sign. Her little boy, Scorpius, was the sign. Whoever was up there, they told her to do it for him. He deserves the world , she said to herself.

So she stood from her damp bed to dry it with a simple charm. After freshening up, she headed to the kitchen and brewed some tea.

All the while, there was something in the pit of Hermione's stomach that seemed… off. She shook her head to dispel any thoughts that led her to spiral sometimes. Instead, she focused on pressing tea leaves.

Draco emerged from Scorpius's nursery.

Hermione had already prepared him a cuppa, complete with cream and one sugar, the way he liked it. She had also reheated the pie from last night. She heard him open the refrigerator in search of something to eat.

She wasn't sure whether he was still cross with her from last night, but to test the waters, she said quietly, "I made you breakfast."

He turned, staring at the pie and tea. "Thanks," was all he said.

He settled into the stool by the counters and ate in silence.

She was finished with her own cuppa and pie, so with nothing to preoccupy herself, Hermione started absently opening cabinets and reading labels of jars, boxes, and bottles. Finally, she channeled her more Gryffindor-esque qualities and worked up the courage to speak.

She shut the cabinets and turned to him, surprised to find him fully dressed for the Hogwarts Board of Governors' meeting. Hermione cleared her throat, and his steel eyes met hers. "I didn't mean it. Last night, I didn't mean it. What I said… it wasn't…" she paused. "I didn't mean what I said."

Draco looked down, eating his food in silence. Hermione assumed he was still angry. After what felt like hours, however, he replied with a quiet, "me too."

She settled on the stool next to his, glad that they were reconciling without sex. They almost always made up with sex. It wasn't healthy. This was a step in the right direction if she ever saw one.

He finished his meal and stood.

Awkwardly, Hermione asked, "you're leaving already?"

He nodded. "The meeting starts in ten minutes. I'll be home after."

He collected his wand and wallet from the coffee table, picking up the bag of money from Gringotts in the process.

At the back of her mind, there was a nagging sensation that something was wrong. Hermione could not point out precisely what it was, but she felt… off.

As he headed to the floo, Hermione caught up to him. "Wait," she said pathetically. "Maybe… maybe you should stay here." She grasped his forearm.

He cocked his head at her. "Why?"

"I–I'm not sure. I have a bad feeling about today, and I just… I dunno. Can you just stay?" She asked with her pride on the ground.

His brows drew together. "I really can't, Granger. The Board needs to reach the quorum for the dormitories to be built. I'll come home right away, though."

"I…" Hermione hesitated. "Okay. Just be quick."

"I will. You stay here, alright?"

Hermione nodded, letting go of his sleeve. He tilted her chin up with his index finger and leaned in to press a chaste kiss on her warm lips.

When they pulled apart, Hermione whispered softly, "I love you."

He gave her a small smile. "Me too," he replied.

And he was gone.


Three hours later, Hermione was very close to storming the doors of Hogwarts and demanding for her boyfriend. Something was very wrong. She had a feeling Draco was involved, and her anxiety was through the roof. She tried to calm down by knitting, reading, watching telly, sleeping… but nothing was to be done.

What was worse was that she could not get the pesky dream out of her head. She was bothered over her son's sad expression, and it probably manifested because Scorpius had yet to kick today. He was evidently still heartbroken over his parents' row the night before, and Hermione tried everything to cheer him up.

By four o'clock, Hermione donned her robes and boots, fully prepared to floo.

And then, it happened.

Agony.