Written for the Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition - Constellations Theme
Week 4: Phoenix - Firebird

It was hard to believe the war might finally be over when the smell of the last battle still permeated the air around them. The strange mixture of blood, sweat and everything burnt clung to their clothing and tents in the makeshift city they had thrown together in the hours after Voldemort's final defeat.

Many of them had no other place to go; most places in Wizarding Britain needed rebuilding after nine years of war. Nobody could have guessed that one missed Horcrux would cost them so much. And yet, they had somehow held onto their hopes and prevailed.

Less than a day later, most of the camp's occupants were resting, planning for the future.

Draco was standing at the outskirts of camp. He took several deep breaths of stale air and tried to calm his nerves. His wife's screams had him hurrying back into their tent, where he found Luna whispering words of encouragement while gently brushing the hair off her face.

Hermione was naked on her hands and knees on the cot, her skin flushed and covered in perspiration. There was a fierce look of determination on her face. Draco thought she had never looked more dangerous. Or beautiful.

"Almost time to push, Granger, almost over," Pansy chimed in.

"I don't think I can do this," she whimpered. They were nearing twenty-four hours now since her labour had started, before the battle had even ended.

Draco walked to the end of the bed and carefully lifted her upper body until she could wrap her arms around his shoulders and lean her forehead on his chest, her knees still planted on the mattress. She seemed to take comfort in his embrace.

"It's time, Parkinson, I know it is. Please!" she nearly growled.

Pansy did a quick diagnostic with her wand and nodded at Draco.

"Alright, love. Whenever you're ready. I've got you," he told her.

Hermione brought her feet up under her to squat, moving her head to his shoulder. As the next contraction started, a feral shriek left her lips and their baby was born into Pansy's waiting hands.

Luna rushed forward to help Draco lay a triumphant Hermione back onto a stack of pillows and the newborn was placed onto her bare chest. Pansy aimed a gentle cleansing charm at them both and covered them with a clean blanket. She smiled.

"It's a girl."

Draco's heart swelled with thankfulness for his warrior of a wife. He had never imagined that giving birth could look more terrifying than combat. He certainly hadn't envisioned his first child being born in the remnants of a literal battlefield.

But she was here, proof that beautiful things could be born from the ashes, just as her parents had come together in the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Phoenix," he whispered.

"Sounds fitting," Hermione agreed with a tired smile.

As his daughter's first soft cries reached his ears and tears of joy ran down his face, he knew everything would be alright.