Hermione was able to leave the hospital two days after their daughter
Malinda Malfoy was born. Hermione liked the name Malinda from the moment
she heard it. It was Greek for 'gentle one' and her daughter was
definitely the most gentle and precious thing Hermione had ever seen. She
had soft eyes that gazed up at her with a look of wonder and a silky tuft
of hair that strongly resembled Hermione's own.
Hermione spent the first few days home with Malinda in wonder. She marvelled at everything her tiny daughter did, often unable to believe that this little miracle came from her body. She watched Malinda as she slept, content with her life, yet something still plagued her from the depths of her mind.
Harry had paid a visit to the house the day after Hermione returned home with her baby. He was utterly enthralled with the tiny infant and professed his desire to have a child of his own one day. But Ron had yet to come by since his visit at the hospital. Hermione knew that his life was busy but she couldn't help feeling a little put out that one of her best friends didn't pay hardly any attention to the fact that she was a mother.
Little Malinda occupied most of Hermione's time, as well as Draco's. Hermione would spend most of the night up with the crying baby and would nap whenever possible during the day. As soon as Draco got home in the evening, he would take over while his wife slept soundly for a few prized hours. After that, Hermione's shift would start all over again.
"We never sleep anymore!" Draco complained as he fed Malinda early one Thursday morning. Hermione sat across the table from them, falling asleep on her arms.
"I know," she sighed, "but welcome to the world of parenting."
"It sucks not sleeping," Draco muttered, looking sulky. "Why can't she sleep normally?"
"She's two weeks old, Draco. That's going to take time."
"Yeah."
The sullen moods continued for the rest of the week until the weekend when both sets of parents came to visit. Both Mrs. Granger and Narcissa arrived bearing bounties of gifts for their new grandchild but Mr. Granger and Lucius arrived bearing nothing but morose looks at one another. In a private moment alone, Mrs. Granger told Hermione that the two of them had gotten into numerous fights after leaving the hospital.
"Lucius kept going on about how his grandchild was going to be," Mrs. Granger lowered her voice, "a Mudblood."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to him, Mum. He's just a loony."
Mrs. Granger nodded but didn't look assured.
The rest of the afternoon passed in somewhat of peace. Hermione was certain that a few arguments might have broken out if not for the wonderful diversionary tactics of her mother and mother-in-law. All the same, Hermione was just as glad when everyone went home. Malinda was sleeping soundly in her bassinette in the living room and Hermione had settled down for some peace.
"Care for a drink?" Draco stood in the doorway, looking as frazzled as Hermione felt. She nodded and he cracked open a bottle of Butterbeer.
"Ah, the hard stuff tonight," she joked and smiling for what felt like the first time all day. Draco nodded in agreement and sat beside her. Silently, they clinked their glasses together and drank to their new lives as parents.
"It won't be all bad," Draco said after they finished their drinks. "When she gets older it will make our lives easier."
"Yeah," Hermione replied. "But these are the fun years. When she learns to sit up and walk and talk. That's always fun to record."
All the while, Draco hadn't taken his eyes off of his sleeping daughter. Hermione surveyed the situation silently, aware that the decision she had to make was looming ever closer. Here she was, sitting with her husband and daughter-her new family-yet it felt like something was missing. All her life she couldn't just be Mrs. Hermione Malfoy, wife of Draco Malfoy and mother of Malinda Malfoy. She had to be a person; she had to have her own friends and her own personality.
Malinda continued to be a well-nurtured child well into her second month. She had begun sleeping in more regulated patterns but Draco was still unsatisfied.
"She's crying," he informed a groggy Hermione one morning around two.
Hermione opened one eye slowly. "Then go get her."
"Why do I have to go?"
"Because I went last time, not to mention she lived in and came out of my body. I think it's time you fulfilled your responsibility."
Draco got up muttering, unable to argue with Hermione. Disgruntled, he returned to the bed moments later. "Had to be changed," he answered before she could ask.
"Did you change her?"
"No, I left her lying there like that."
Hermione sighed and returned to her dreamless, exhausted state of sleep. It wasn't the first argument they had had since Malinda had been born and she was pretty sure it wasn't going to be the last. Tempers had risen in the Malfoy home since the birth of their daughter and it was becoming obvious that it was from lack of sleep.
One Thursday morning, Draco snapped. "I can't take it much more," he warned.
Hermione sat at the kitchen table, half asleep, rocking Malinda in her baby seat. "I don't know what else to try," she shot back. "I've fed her, changed her, burped her, walked around the house with her, rocked her; I don't know what's wrong."
The little baby kept screaming, unaware of her parents' attitudes at that moment. Hermione kept rocking the seat until Draco stormed out of the house. Putting her former emotions aside, Hermione began a letter to Harry. "Things are out of hand," she wrote after the greetings. "Draco's snapping at me and it's honestly not my fault. It's not Malinda's fault either, but he doesn't seem to understand that."
She finished the letter with an invite to the house for a weekend and sealed it. She mailed it with the weekly household bills and drifted into a drowsy nap when Malinda's crying finally ceased.
Exactly one week later, to the day, Hermione received a reply from Harry stating that he couldn't visit just yet. "Lots of work to be done," he wrote, "and seemingly, I'm the only one that can do it right now. Ron's occupied with his flame so I'm working overtime."
Hermione accepted this answer but was frustrated at Ron for being so blind and ignorant. It certainly wasn't very characteristic of him. This thought pestered at her until two days later when she made a snap decision. It wasn't very far to the Burrow by way of carriage so Hermione packed up Malinda Friday morning after Draco left for work (still looking tired and cross) and headed out to the carriage. If her friends wouldn't come to see her, she would go see her friends.
Hermione spent the first few days home with Malinda in wonder. She marvelled at everything her tiny daughter did, often unable to believe that this little miracle came from her body. She watched Malinda as she slept, content with her life, yet something still plagued her from the depths of her mind.
Harry had paid a visit to the house the day after Hermione returned home with her baby. He was utterly enthralled with the tiny infant and professed his desire to have a child of his own one day. But Ron had yet to come by since his visit at the hospital. Hermione knew that his life was busy but she couldn't help feeling a little put out that one of her best friends didn't pay hardly any attention to the fact that she was a mother.
Little Malinda occupied most of Hermione's time, as well as Draco's. Hermione would spend most of the night up with the crying baby and would nap whenever possible during the day. As soon as Draco got home in the evening, he would take over while his wife slept soundly for a few prized hours. After that, Hermione's shift would start all over again.
"We never sleep anymore!" Draco complained as he fed Malinda early one Thursday morning. Hermione sat across the table from them, falling asleep on her arms.
"I know," she sighed, "but welcome to the world of parenting."
"It sucks not sleeping," Draco muttered, looking sulky. "Why can't she sleep normally?"
"She's two weeks old, Draco. That's going to take time."
"Yeah."
The sullen moods continued for the rest of the week until the weekend when both sets of parents came to visit. Both Mrs. Granger and Narcissa arrived bearing bounties of gifts for their new grandchild but Mr. Granger and Lucius arrived bearing nothing but morose looks at one another. In a private moment alone, Mrs. Granger told Hermione that the two of them had gotten into numerous fights after leaving the hospital.
"Lucius kept going on about how his grandchild was going to be," Mrs. Granger lowered her voice, "a Mudblood."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to him, Mum. He's just a loony."
Mrs. Granger nodded but didn't look assured.
The rest of the afternoon passed in somewhat of peace. Hermione was certain that a few arguments might have broken out if not for the wonderful diversionary tactics of her mother and mother-in-law. All the same, Hermione was just as glad when everyone went home. Malinda was sleeping soundly in her bassinette in the living room and Hermione had settled down for some peace.
"Care for a drink?" Draco stood in the doorway, looking as frazzled as Hermione felt. She nodded and he cracked open a bottle of Butterbeer.
"Ah, the hard stuff tonight," she joked and smiling for what felt like the first time all day. Draco nodded in agreement and sat beside her. Silently, they clinked their glasses together and drank to their new lives as parents.
"It won't be all bad," Draco said after they finished their drinks. "When she gets older it will make our lives easier."
"Yeah," Hermione replied. "But these are the fun years. When she learns to sit up and walk and talk. That's always fun to record."
All the while, Draco hadn't taken his eyes off of his sleeping daughter. Hermione surveyed the situation silently, aware that the decision she had to make was looming ever closer. Here she was, sitting with her husband and daughter-her new family-yet it felt like something was missing. All her life she couldn't just be Mrs. Hermione Malfoy, wife of Draco Malfoy and mother of Malinda Malfoy. She had to be a person; she had to have her own friends and her own personality.
Malinda continued to be a well-nurtured child well into her second month. She had begun sleeping in more regulated patterns but Draco was still unsatisfied.
"She's crying," he informed a groggy Hermione one morning around two.
Hermione opened one eye slowly. "Then go get her."
"Why do I have to go?"
"Because I went last time, not to mention she lived in and came out of my body. I think it's time you fulfilled your responsibility."
Draco got up muttering, unable to argue with Hermione. Disgruntled, he returned to the bed moments later. "Had to be changed," he answered before she could ask.
"Did you change her?"
"No, I left her lying there like that."
Hermione sighed and returned to her dreamless, exhausted state of sleep. It wasn't the first argument they had had since Malinda had been born and she was pretty sure it wasn't going to be the last. Tempers had risen in the Malfoy home since the birth of their daughter and it was becoming obvious that it was from lack of sleep.
One Thursday morning, Draco snapped. "I can't take it much more," he warned.
Hermione sat at the kitchen table, half asleep, rocking Malinda in her baby seat. "I don't know what else to try," she shot back. "I've fed her, changed her, burped her, walked around the house with her, rocked her; I don't know what's wrong."
The little baby kept screaming, unaware of her parents' attitudes at that moment. Hermione kept rocking the seat until Draco stormed out of the house. Putting her former emotions aside, Hermione began a letter to Harry. "Things are out of hand," she wrote after the greetings. "Draco's snapping at me and it's honestly not my fault. It's not Malinda's fault either, but he doesn't seem to understand that."
She finished the letter with an invite to the house for a weekend and sealed it. She mailed it with the weekly household bills and drifted into a drowsy nap when Malinda's crying finally ceased.
Exactly one week later, to the day, Hermione received a reply from Harry stating that he couldn't visit just yet. "Lots of work to be done," he wrote, "and seemingly, I'm the only one that can do it right now. Ron's occupied with his flame so I'm working overtime."
Hermione accepted this answer but was frustrated at Ron for being so blind and ignorant. It certainly wasn't very characteristic of him. This thought pestered at her until two days later when she made a snap decision. It wasn't very far to the Burrow by way of carriage so Hermione packed up Malinda Friday morning after Draco left for work (still looking tired and cross) and headed out to the carriage. If her friends wouldn't come to see her, she would go see her friends.
