It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. And there was just one bed and one way to fix a problem.
Hermione Granger slammed the door behind her, hoping the heavy wood would smack Draco fucking Malfoy in his ferrety face.
It did not, much to her dismay. The door never met its frame. Instead, a massively strong hand slapped against it, holding it open. She whirled around, and shoved a finger in his face.
"This is completely your fault," she seethed.
Draco scoffed. "Come now, Granger, I could never do such a plebian thing."
Hermione's eyes rolled to the back of her skull, sticking for a moment before landing squarely on Draco's piercing grey eyes.
"Typical of you to disown any kind of responsibility, your Ferretness." Hermione feigned charm, curtsying with a glare.
He bowed dramatically as he pushed through the door into her flat. He was immediately accosted by her cat, Crookshanks, who hissed at his feet. Shoving his shoe against the creature, it rolled on its side and scrambled back on all fours before scowling at him and running off.
"Did you REALLY just kick my CAT?"
"I merely nudged him in the right direction."
"You are a complete arse, Malfoy," she said.
"You weren't saying that last night," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Disgusting." She made a gagging sound as she said it.
He feigned offense.
"Malfoy! You need to take this more seriously! Look at me!" She pointed down at her stomach, as round as a bowling ball. "This wasn't here yesterday!"
"I said I was sorry!"
She stared at him in utter dismay. "Sorry?! You're sorry?! Sorry is just a word! Do something about it!"
"Well what am I meant to do about it, Granger? You're going to be a great mom! And how do you even know it was my fault to begin with, hmm?"
"Are you serious? You pointed your wand right at my stomach and slurred out some hex!"
"Granger, I was drunk, how am I supposed to remember that?"
She huffed a growl of frustration and turned on her heels towards the kitchen. Suddenly, in a moment as terrifying as ever, the whole apartment building began to shake. Hermione stumbled over her feet, and as she fell, a scream escaping her throat, the strong hands that belonged to the gittyest of gits wrapped around her and held her up. When the shaking stopped, she turned and faced Draco, his striking grey eyes and bright blonde hair attacking her senses. She didn't mean to, but she gasped at the sight of him.
He glanced around the room. "Must've been a shift in magical forces," he said.
"I think it was just an earthquake." Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved him off of her, standing upright.
"Earthquake?" He looked confused.
"Not now," she said. "Anyways-"
"Don't you dare underestimate the other-earthly power of our offspring, Hermione!" Draco proclaimed, passion lacing his voice.
"Oh, so it's Hermione now, is it?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Do you want it to be?"
"Enough." She rubbed her stomach in a swift motion. "What. Are. You. Going. To. Do. To. Fix. This?" The words flowed through her gritted teeth.
"Okay, okay, I'll be serious. I read about this kind of magic when I awoke in my 50,000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets this morning, which, might I add, you were not in." He scolded her sternly.
"Jesus," she said.
"That's it! The magic is rooted in ancient mythology linked to the creation of human life. My ancestors created it in 3500 B.C. to ensure the proper breeding of the Malfoy line, but I guess I've gone and blown that, haven't I? Anyways, I must have somehow recited the hex in a moment of inebriation-"
"You mean the blackout, sloppy stumbling incoherent drunkenness at a work function?"
"Details," he waved off. "Spare me the synonyms. So, yes, that's how this must've unfortunately occurred." He gestured to her stomach.
"Well?" she said, waiting for the answer to fix it.
"Well," he repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. "The only fix is to..." he flickered his eyes to her bedroom. "...you know." He flashed her a suggestive wink.
Hermione blanched. "Wh- No! Malfoy! That's not..."
"It's the only way," he said, stepping towards her and cupping her cheek.
She flinched at his touch.
"Fine, suit yourself." He turned away, walking down the hall, pulling his shirt off as he went. "I'm going to bed."
She hesitated, unsure of what to do.
He called out from her room, "If you don't come in here, I'm going to put my shoes on your bed."
"No, Malfoy, get out!" She stomped into the room and stopped at the sight of him, stark naked on her bed. "Oh," she breathed, her lips forming a perfect "o". "Okay, I suppose you make a compelling point." She threw her shirt off and joined him in the bed.
Twelve Years Later
Hermione walked alongside Draco to Platform 9 ¾ with their beautiful blonde, curly-haired child rushing on ahead, trunk following.
"I'm so glad we broke the spell," she whispered to Draco. "I don't know what I would've done if we'd have sent him off last year with my Ministry appointment.
"What are the odds that the very thing that broke that stupid family hex would have led to you getting pregnant anyways?" He snaked an arm around her shoulders.
"I still wonder sometimes what it would've been like, you know? To have a sweet baby Jesus."
a/n: Thanks for reading our ridiculous one-shot. Here's a note from our main sponsor:
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