They had reached a silent reprieve.

Draco joined her to her appointments but was restrained and stared at the bright sterile walls. The one time she saw him look at the images of the fetus as he calls it, Hermione was sure he was going to send a fiendfyre curse through St. Mungos. His jaw locked in anger that was tethering at the brim. She held her breath and asked minimal questions when he was around.

The baby is healthy..

A dark and twisted part in Hermione wished it wasn't. The guilt that she felt after she expelled that thought was overpowering. Her stomach twisting herself to the point where she had to bite her tongue to keep herself from being sick. At night, she laid in her bed wondering who the baby would look like. Will it have Draco's platinum locks? Will it have curls like her? The doctor had said Draco's blood was powerful but Hermione's magical aura was strong. It was all up in the air. Sobs racking her body as she thought of her little godson. His sweet cherub cheeks and his grey eyes. He looked exactly like his father, but the lips were his mother. The little arch of eyebrow he did when he found something funny...there was Astoria in him. Oh..how she missed him.

Months in her pregnancy passed.

Trying to keep a friendship with Draco was difficult. Their silent looks that spoke for themselves and the quiet friendship that had bloomed over the years was in fragments. He barely looked at her, angry at himself for being careless. He gave her a hefty sum of galleons every month. Buy whatever you need, Granger. Disassociating himself. Hermione didn't mind. She could barely handle her emotions and to add reading Draco's and acting according, made the little energy she had dissipate.

Harry checked on her as much as she would let him. Almost integrating himself into her home. Finding his clothes shoved hazardously into one of her drawers had finally made her snap. She could take care of herself. She survived a war for fucks sake.

She wanted to scream and throw curses around her home. Wanted to break her favorite vase that Narcissa gifted her one Christmas, a beautiful vase made with real Goblin's gold and fairy wings to shimmer. When she first received it she thought it was to irk her. Poke at her and see how Hermione would rant how Goblin's gold was rarity as it was. And fairy wings? The way they were tortured for their wings was inhumane. Granted they grew back within a week but she knew every little tear they felt- the iridescent, almost paper like,wing being torn from their back. Admitted they were evil and conniving little shits. Draco had made her realize giving grand gifts was how his parents showed their appreciation and mutual respect. Now Hermione wanted to see that same gift in pieces. Tiny little pieces where she couldn't even tell what it was anymore.

She wouldn't dare.

Narcissa has always been sweet and accepting of her, she had visited Hermione when the news reached her. Sun kissed from Afghanistan, her hair neatly tucked in a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a rich emerald head wrap for respect of the culture, her robes were a matching green. She had kissed Hermione's cheek in greeting, smelling of roses and sandalwood.

"How far along are you?" Her voice was gentle and calming to her ears.

She reported everything she knew of the pregnancy as it was a file that needed to be turned in to Rebar. In the end, Narcissa patted Hermione's hand and gave her a sad smile. He'll come around.

She didn't really want him to though.

Harry groaned in annoyance.

Since Hermione's pregnancy, she was placed on maternity leave on Shacklebolt's orders. Rebar requesting her input when needed, but the requests were now far and in between since Hermione's healer declared her pregnancy high risk. Her magical aura was a hazard, trying to accommodate and equally powerful aura was causing Hermione to be sick constantly. Didn't help as she entered her sixth month of pregnancy, Hermione had became more and more annoyed with everything. She felt pain in her hips every-time she walked or even tried getting out of bed. Her stomach was stretched and the skin red at times. Her breasts were sore and she started leaking colostrum since eighteen weeks. She always heard pregnancy was magical but she was worn thin already. Harry really tried to help as much as he could.

Thought it could be argued punching Draco Malfoy in the jaw wouldn't have helped anyone except Harry.

But it didn't.

Harry glared at Malloy in annoyance, as he spit bright blood on Harry's living room. Sporting a bright red blotch on his chin and his lip torn. Harry could vaguely hear Luna shouting at him.

"Feel better Potter?" The casual drawl made him want to take another swing. His hand curled to a fist, ready to pull back his arm before he felt Luna's hand on his shoulder.

"Surprisingly, I don't." Harry gave a small smile to Luna before he nodded. Her bright blue eyes stared at him, her hand reaching to his jaw, one finger stroking the stubble there.

"I'll be upstairs, okay?" Her soft voice calmed him further. She really was his beacon of light nowadays. Luna spent most her time in Godric's Hollow more than she did in her own flat. She was refreshing compared to Blaise. She loved it when he was gentle with her in bed, just as much as she loved it when he was overtly controlling. Watching her head upstairs, Harry trained his eyes on Malfoy. The blonde aristocrat had made himself at home on his couch already, lounging back with his feet propped on the ottoman. A cigarette already donned between his fingers.

Propping himself next to him, Draco took a long drag of the cigarette before handing it to Harry. Both men in silence, each in thought.

Taking a long inhale of smoke, Harry wondered how everything was going to play out. "Have you've spoken to her?"

"Not really."

"Mmm," Harry passed the cigarette back.

Silence again.

"It's a boy."

Malfoy's voice cracked. Fiddling with the cigarette between his fingers, Harry watched as Malfoy's Adam's apple bobbed. He spent enough time with the wizard to know he was on a verge of a breakdown,"I don't want to know anything Potter. My son is dead. I.. I can't."

Rubbing Malfoy's shoulder, Harry nodded, "I know bud. I know."

The sobs that wracked through his body was almost animalistic. His body shaking with force, the floodgates were finally opened and Harry rubbed his back letting his friend use his chest to cry. No matter how much time will pass, the loss will never heal. Harry knew that much. War had broken them all. To loose your wife and son, when the feeling of safety was finally in one's grasp was cruel. Harry would've started killing.

"I miss them so much. I miss Granger. She's helped me and I know this pregnancy is fucking hard on her. I want to hold her but I feel like I'm betraying Astoria and Scorpius."

Harry shut his eyes, fighting back his own tears as he hugged Malfoy tighter. How hadn't Malfoy broken under all the grief he held inside, Harry was unsure..

Enjoy !