Hogsmeade
The clock on the wall of Hermione's kitchen let her know it was past midnight, but she didn't care – she had woken up starving and craving a very cheesy grilled-cheese.
Yeah, craving.
Hermione had begun to just need certain foods, it felt like she wouldn't be satisfied until she had whatever it was that she salivated for.
Her friends found it hilarious and helped her with all her crazy cravings.
Pickled beets at two in the afternoon? Charlie got some from the Burrow and took to her at the Ministry.
Edible flowers in the morning? Pansy had a basket sent to her office.
Her favourite cocktail: Sex on the Beach? Ginny knew how to make a non-alcoholic version of that – apparently called Virgins on the Beach.
The stupidly expensive gianduja bonbons Hermione used to steal from Draco's stash? Blaise knew where they were from and gifted her a huge box.
But despite all the support, growing two babies was taking its toll on Hermione's energy levels. She felt constantly tired and hungry – hence the need for a grilled cheese at midnight.
Narcissa had mentioned she had had the strangest cravings while pregnant.
So, whenever her cravings hit, Hermione thought of Draco – not that she needed any more reasons to think of his stupid face. She had his children inside of her, for fuck's sake, and went daily through a long path of hating him, resenting him, missing him, and loving him only to hate him all over again.
She sighed, touching her rounded belly and thinking about the events of the end of that week.
In four days, the Charity gala Narcissa and she had been organizing together was going to happen and Draco – Lord Malfoy – would certainly be attending with his fiancée.
Hermione barely knew Astoria, but she recalled the witch always looking gorgeous, even in a school uniform.
Meanwhile, I'll have to have my dress fixed again. She thought, looking at her midsection. At thirteen weeks, Hermione had started to notice most of her jeans and skirts no longer fastened at the waist.
Her friends, dear-souls that they were, told her she looked beautiful, but Hermione found it hard to feel good when she walked around in a constant state of nausea most days.
You two are growing too fast. She said fondly, wondering, as of late, how they'd look like.
Would they have blond curls? Brown straight hair?
Honey eyes? – or would they have grey eyes and remind her every day of the man she loved and had lost to his own prejudiced views and lack of grit?
Before she could thing of an answer to her musings, Hermione was jolted back to reality by an alarm ringing into her house and letting her know something had crossed her frontyard shields.
As safe as Hogsmeade was, Hermione still worried about her safety – especially now that she had two little ones growing inside of her. And there were still people prejudiced against muggleborns out there and many had disagreed with her taking the stands to defend the Malfoys; suffice it to say she received enough hatemail weekly to keep her on alert.
Therefore, Hermione grabbed her wand before walking to the front window, trying to see what had entered her yard – last time it had been a harmless baby thestral.
"Draco?" She gasped as she saw the tall blond man pacing her front porch.
He seemed to be talking to himself, muttering nervously, going back and forth near the door, until he made a decision and knocked.
Hermione took a deep breath, her heart ponding as she pondered if she should open the door or not.
She walked back to the kitchen and removed her grilled cheese from the grill, hearing him knocking again, and his voice: "Please, Hermione. I know you're awake."
If she said her heart didn't clench at his pleading, she'd be lying. But she hadn't forgotten his words or his actions – and specially not what he had insinuated earlier that day about her and Charlie and Blaise. At that thought, anger was back at the forefront of her mind.
She cast a warming charm on her plate and went to the door, opening it and looking at him, surprised at how distressed he looked: his hair was tousled, his clothes rumpled, his face had red swollen marks and an already purple one; also, his lip was bleeding.
"What happened to you?" she couldn't not ask.
Draco didn't make a move to walk in, he just stood on the porch and smiled at the sight of her, thinking how gorgeous she looked dressed in a two-piece nightwear, her slightly round lower belly on display between the bottom of her top and the waistband of her sweatpants.
Hermione felt very self-conscious under his gaze, and a warm familiar heat started inside of her. She forced the desire down and asked coolly: "What do you want?"
"Can I come in? Please."
She exhaled in annoyance at her own self, for his pleading, added to his wounded dishevelled state, did her in and she opened the door wider. "Come in."
Draco walked into the place he had called home for the past two years – the simplest and absolute best home he had ever lived in –, welcoming the sight of the dark wooden floors, the comfy furniture that didn't match but made the place look fun and lived in, the delicate curtains, colourful cushions and rugs, and the smells... he took a deep breath... cinnamon, herbs, books. Home.
"Draco?" Hermione called, equal parts annoyed and worried about him. "Why are you here at this hour?" she paused looking at his split lip and the swelling on his face. "And will you just tell me what the hell happened to you?"
He looked at her with tormented eyes and silence, making her concern grow.
"Draco?" she tried calling him again, taking a step closer. "Why is your lip bleeding?"
"You, Blaise, Potter and Nott hit me today." He finally spoke. "I mean, yesterday." He corrected himself.
"What?" she asked even more confused. "Harry and Theodore hit you? Why?"
"Because I'm an idiot."
"Can't argue with that." She muttered.
Draco just smiled and looked down at her body, his eyes lingering on her breasts before going to her belly, and he let out a sigh of longing, reaching inside his pocket and taking out a small box.
"I bought this for you three years ago. I dreamed and hoped one day I'd give it to you."
Hermione looked from the closed box in his hand to his bruised face in shock; whatever it was that she had expected from his late-night visit, that right there had not been it.
"What the fuck?" She asked, glaring at him. "After all you-" she fisted her hands. "After everything you didn't do- you think you can just-" she was going to hex him.
"I'm sorry, love." He said, sensing she was seconds away from attacking him. "I fucked up – a lot and repeatedly. I see it now. I should've fought for us!" his desperation showing in his voice. "I should've faced my parents and told them YOU were the only wife I wanted." He ran a hand through his hair. "Instead, I... I was a complete ass, made a mess out of everything." He reached the closed jewellery box to her. "Marry me, Hermione-"
She growled: "Put that thing away, Draco. You're already engaged."
"Please." He tried to take a step towards her but she took one away. "I'm truly sorry. I see now that my actions hurt you and-"
"You thought I'd be your mistress!" she shouted, reminding him of that fiasco. "After nearly five years together! I'm a war veteran, a self-made respected member of the wizarding society, on my way to become Minister of Magic within the next decade and you – you arsehole!" She shoved him hard. "You dared to think I'd be your fucking mistress!" She glared at him, her hands closing in fists that she was itching to meet his face with.
"I'm so so sorry, love." Draco stared at her looking as miserable as he felt, not knowing what else to say.
And Hermione just shook her head, looking at him and wanting to add to the bruises on his face; if he had apologized hours after his engagement to the Greengrass had been announced, she knew they could've talked and faced that mess together. But now? Months later? No. Just sorry wouldn't cut it.
"Get out, Draco."
He was taken aback by her dismissal, "Hermione, love. Please. You know I love you! We spent nearly five years together; you know of my devotion to you!"
She inhaled sharply: "Devotion? Was it your so-called devotion that made you belittle my feelings and easily throw away all we had lived together?"
Draco grimaced, his eyes filling up with tears as he heard her. And he knew right then he would not be able to prove to her that he regretted his past actions.
"I thought I was just doing what was right for my family..." he whispered, looking down at his hands, his eyes falling on his family's signet ring, making he realize that, when it had mattered, he had chosen that ring over her. Then he nodded, speaking resignedly: "You're right not to forgive me." he said. "I hate it, but... I understand." His grey eyes met hers again. "But I won't give up, Hermione. I'm done fucking up. I'll show you that-"
"I'm marrying Charlie in twenty days." she let him know.
Draco felt his blood go cold, "No." he shook his head; his whole body shaking with anguish and revulsion; the image of her dressed in a long white dress and marrying someone else was a terror-inducing nightmare. "No! You're not marrying him! No!"
"It makes no difference your opinion on the matter, Draco." She exhaled. "Charlie will put my kids first-"
"Even though he didn't put them in you?" he said, looking at her intently, barely breathing as he waited for her answer.
Hermione hesitated, knowing that she could laugh at him and lie – but that would just delay the inevitable: once those babies were born the world would know they weren't Charlie's.
"I know what're thinking, Draco." She said instead of just lying. "And it doesn't matter." She touched her belly protectively, "Scorpius and Lyra will have an awesome dad; they will be very much loved by me and all the Weasleys. And I... I need a partner, Draco, not a spoiled Lord. You've made it more than clear that I'm not worthy of standing beside you."
"No, love." he took a step closer to her, not failing to register she hadn't denied his accusation. "Listen, I'm s-"
"Yes: you're sorry. I heard you the first ten times!" Hermione knew she sounded harsh. "But saying you're sorry doesn't change the past, Draco!" she paused, looking at him with sad eyes, "I truly shouldn't be surprised things ended up this way. I've known you since we were kids and I should've known – and part of me did know..." She stopped talking, refusing to cry in front of him.
Neither spoke for a while; Draco seemed at loss of words, while Hermione was gathering all of her Gryffindor courage to ask the question that plagued her the most: "Do you, deep down, agree with them, Draco? Do you wish for a pureblood witch to carry your baby?"
He went paler than usual, and the way his whole body-language changed let Hermione know his answer even before he'd uttered it: "Of course I do not wish for that, Hermione!" and in a second he was right in front of her, pulling her close to him, one arm around her waist and one hand on her face, holding her chin up and looking at her with desperation. "I want you to carry my baby. I want you to have my ring on your finger; I want to give you my surname and everything else in the world that you desire!"
Hermione held his gaze for just a second, knowing soon her eyes would no longer be able to hold the tears flooding them.
"It doesn't matter now, Draco." She said softly, pushing him away from her, needing the distance to maintain her sanity. "You let your father choose your future for you." She took a deep breath, emotional exhaustion making her wish he'd just leave, "You can move on with your life... have your pureblood heir with your worthy pureblood wife." She couldn't keep the sneer out of her voice. "It's fine." She finished with a soft sigh.
Draco stared at her as if she was insane.
"Fine?" he scowled. "You dare you say it is fine? Nothing is fine, Hermione! NOTHING!" He moved closer to her again, desperate hands holding her face. "I miss you; I love you!" he touched his forehead to hers and begged in a pain-filed whisper: "Please... tell me I put these babies in you, love. Please..."
Her heart nearly broke for him, her anger turning into compassion – but Hermione refused to let the stupid organ decide her next steps where Draco was concerned.
She pushed him away once more, "What do you want from me, Draco?"
"I need to know..." he panted, eying her baby bump as if hypnotized by it, his tongue moistening his lips, "Tell me, love, please tell me the truth." He touched a hand to her lower belly.
"The truth," Hermione said, thinking each word carefully. "Is that Charlie will be a great dad." and she took his hand off her body.
Draco's grey eyes went darker, a storm brewing inside of him, as it always did whenever she mentioned any other man that wasn't Harry or him.
"Has he fucked these babies in you, Granger?" he crudely asked.
And she couldn't deny the way his words affected her, his tone demanding and low – the same he used to order her to fall to her knees.
Hermione gulped nervously, she was a pregnant hormone-filled young woman, and that man in front of her knew every one of her desires and how to deliver on all of them.
But still she refused to let him know he still affected her that way.
She looked at him for a moment, feeling too tired to keep arguing with him, so she didn't address his question, she simple continued to speak in her normal tone: "Charlie is going to be a great dad-"
"HE DIDN'T PUT THOSE BABIES IN YOU!" Draco shouted, his voice trembling in anger and anguish.
Hermione sighed, finally admitting: "No, he didn't."
And Draco fell onto the floor right in front of her, his legs suddenly too shaken to hold up his own weight.
He held her waist with both hands as he pressed his forehead to her lower belly, sensing the kids' magical signatures and sending them all his love.
"Mine." He sobbed as he kissed her lower belly. "You're mine and these babies are mine!"
Hermione felt her tears falling; she should throw him out, scream at him that it was all his fault. But as he cried on his knees in front of her, kissing her skin, she couldn't find it within her to be that cruel.
Instead, she slowly caressed his hair, whispering: "Your wedding is in five months, Dray. You'll work on making your legitimate pureblood heir with Astoria then..."
He hissed at that notion and looked up at her as if he had never heard anything more absurd in his life. Then he stood up, looking into her eyes for a moment before leaving through the front door, without another word.
Hermione stood in place for a few seconds, just breathing; her heart heavy for watching him leave, but her mind certain that she was doing what was best for her and her children. She calmly closed and warded the front door before sitting at the table to finally eat her grilled cheese.
She couldn't let Draco's emotional breakdown get to her – her stupid heart still loved him, yes, but he could tell her all the pretty words he wanted now, nothing would make her forget he had acted as if she was not worthy to walk by his side.
Hermione knew she was not unworthy of anything; she was a bright witch, a strong capable woman who had forged her own path; she wasn't going to allow anyone to diminish her!
But when he had fallen on his knees in front of her, crying, she had to admit she nearly fell onto her own knees and kissed him.
Damn, stupid heart.
Hermione finished her food and made herself some tea, standing firm in her resolve; if Draco didn't agree to her choices, he had only himself to blame.
He could throw as many tantrums as he liked – it wouldn't change a thing.
Malfoy Manor
"Ella!" shouted Draco as he walked through his family home in large steps for the second time in the last eight hours.
"Yes, Master Draco?" asked the female elf after a minute.
"Wake my parents up! Now! It's urgent! I'll be waiting for them in father's office."
The elf bowed and disappeared.
Draco paced the office, a sense of determination he had never felt before in his life coursing through his body.
He finally felt he had the reigns of his life in his hands and he was fucking steering it where he wanted to – no matter the consequences.
"What the fuck is happening?" he heard his father's voice from the corridor a second before he and his mother walked into the room dressed in their nightrobes.
"What is the meaning of this, Draco?" demanded Lucius. "It's nearly two in the fucking morning!"
Narcissa silently frowned, noticing the bruises on her son's face; the shirt and trousers he wore she recognized as the same from dinner only now they were rumpled and blood-stained. But the determination in his eyes let her know something life-changing had happened to him since the banoffee pie incident.
"I'm cancelling the wedding." Draco announced.
And as Lucius' face turned livid, a smile slowly formed on Narcissa's lips.
"What?" Lucius shouted. "On what grounds?"
"I don't love her." Draco shrugged.
"Don't be fucking stupid!" Lucius replied. "You don't have to love her to fuck an heir in her!"
Draco faced his father bravely, "I already have a woman I love and I already fucked an heir into her. Two actually."
He watched his father's furious face turn into one of confusion, a stark contrast to his mother's growing smile.
"What says you, mother?" Draco asked her, wanting her to expose her opinion.
"Well, I say it's better late than never." Said Narcissa, fixing him with a hard stare. "And as glad as I am to be hearing you've finally found your balls, I'm certain it could've waited another six hours." She added, letting him know she didn't approve of the hour.
"It couldn't." Draco shook his head. "I couldn't have waited. The last twenty-four hours were the worst of my life."
Narcissa nodded, feeling proud and relieved. He had finally broken and put himself together, deciding to fight for what he really wanted.
"Have you spoken to Hermione?" she asked, surprising both men. "About the babies?"
Draco looked at her in shock and confusion, "You knew? She told you the truth about the babies?"
"No." Narcissa fixed a hard stare on him, "The Malfoy Tapestry did! From the moment those two started to develop, I knew you were going to be a father. The Tapestry, however, wouldn't say neither who the mother was nor that it were two babies, for it refused to recognize her since she's muggleborn. But I already knew you were dating Hermione Granger since Hogwarts, so it wasn't hard to deduce they were yours."
"Of course." Draco whispered, "The enchanted family tree Tapestry – and it's bigoted, unsurprisingly. Wait- that's why you volunteered to organize the Ball with her! That's why you've been torturing me with Astoria's presence and disgusting desserts!"
Narcissa just shrugged, "It was for you own good."
"Wait." Said Lucius, finally catching up. "Hermione? You mean Granger? You're saying you impregnated the mud..."
"DON'T!" shouted both Draco and Narcissa, looking at Lucius with anger.
"I'm marrying her, father." Draco said firmly. "Once I make her forgive me, that is..."
"And you'd better do that soon!" Said Narcissa with urgency in her voice. "Hermione has been doing her prenatal with a muggle doctor, Draco!"
"I didn't know that." Draco seemed concerned, "Bloody frustrating witch! Don't worry, mother, I'll take her to Healer Ashborn as soon as I put my ring on her finger."
"Excellent. I'll work on changing the Tapestry's prejudiced charms tomorrow so that Hermione and the babies will show there as well."
"You two cannot be serious about this!" shouted Lucius looking at the both. "Draco is not cancelling the wedding with the Greengrass! If Granger got pregnant that's her problem! We must think of our family!"
"So, you're telling me you do not care at all that you'll never meet your grandchildren?" asked Draco, knowing his father would relent.
Lucius stopped, looking suddenly nervous, "How do you even know they're yours? She could be trying to trap you!"
Draco laughed, "I showed her numbers father. I let her see with her own eyes what kind of money we have. And still when she discovered the pregnancy, she hid it from me!"
"Hermione is not that kind of woman, Lucius." added Narcissa.
Draco sighed concernedly. "I have some heavy grovelling to do in the next days, father, if I am to convince her to marry me. Believe me when I say I wish she were trying to trap me!" he looked at Narcissa: "We need the wedding to be soon, mom, as fast as possible, considering she's nearly four months pregnant."
"I can put a wedding together within a month." Narcissa let him know.
Draco seemed impressed, "Can I ask how?"
Narcissa smiled coyly, "I might have already had something pre-planned with the wedding organizer of the other wedding. I can easily cancel one wedding and put another one together."
"Thank you, mom."
"Wait!" shouted Lucius. "How about the money we'll have to pay to the Greengrasses?"
Both Narcissa and Draco rolled their eyes, but the latter was the one to reply:
"That's your mess, father. You solve it." then Draco gave his mother a kiss on her forehead, "I must go and start grovelling now." And he flooed away.