Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is in this story, except the plot, and any characters that you do not recognize. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling!

Yankee Accents

Chapter Twenty: Anniversaries and Birthdays

Written by: Auburn Lily

After that blissful night that Hermione spent with Draco under the star-pocked sky, many more were spent in various rooms of the castle. Although not all of them consisted of sex (for Hermione was not always in the mood), they were blissful and enlightening at the same time. Almost every night consisted of meetings between the two, and somehow Hermione managed to keep Harry's knowledge of her midnight excursions at zero.

The thing about Draco that Hermione found out through all of the conversations that they had held was that he had changed. A lot. He was no longer the seventeen-year old that he had once been, full of vitality, and he no longer possessed the carefree spirit that he had once had. He was much more mature now, and Hermione could see that although the last nine years of his life had not been filled with absolute happiness (which pleased her no matter how much she tried to deny it) he had fallen in love with his four daughters, and he told her once that he had never felt anything like what he felt for his daughters for anyone before.

All of September Hermione discovered a side of him that she had never before seen. He was caring and gentle, and somehow wise. Hermione never thought she'd see the day that Draco Malfoy was wise. He had always been so reckless; now he wasn't. It seemed he didn't want to risk anything that might tear him away from his children.

He wasn't the same person that she had fallen in love with so long ago, to put it shortly.

Hermione thought that maybe she was losing her wits about her; she didn't know why she was thinking the things she was thinking; they seemed to defy everything she had fought against for the later part of her life.

That morning had dawned bright and cloudless, the sky a deep blue. Birds were chirping away at the crisp weather that had fallen over the castle, but Hermione could still feel a warm breeze filtering in through her open windows from across the lake. She was still staying in Harry's dorms, despite her longings to be in Draco's bed, and Harry was still sleeping on the couch in the common room (though she had reason to believe that he transfigured the sofa to a bed after she was supposed to be asleep).

Hermione had woken that morning with an idea in her subconscious, but had refused to acknowledge it all day. It was now two in the afternoon, and she had still not thought about it. On this day for the last nine years she had refused to acknowledge it, and she thought to herself 'Why acknowledge it now?'

She brushed some hair out of her eyes as a tear slid down her flushed cheeks. There was no use trying to block it out of her mind; she just couldn't keep him out of her head.

Today, ten years ago, on September 28, she had married Draco Malfoy.

A bird chirruped somewhere outside her window, and she curled into a fetal position where she lay on the bed. From where she was sitting she could just see the tips of the stands that surrounded the Quidditch Pitch, the little flags flapping in the breeze, and she sat up again, with bits of hair clinging to her wet cheeks. She sniffled loudly, and then padded slowly but surely out of the room, hoping against hope that Harry wasn't out in the Common Room.

After tiptoeing out through the door past a snoring Harry, she made her way down to the Quidditch Field, even though her feet were swollen over the tops of her shoes. The afternoon was crisp and cool, with a warm breeze sifting in across the lake, and Hermione saw that the team practicing was Ravenclaw.

She settled herself in a seat at the bottom of the stands, not wanting to traipse all the way up to the top, and watched as the young players flitted around on their brooms.

Just staring up at the whisking brooms, the players yelling back and forth to one another, brought back memories for Hermione that she would rather not think about at the moment.

A soft breeze caused the hair that was not wrapped up in a wooly hat to tickle her cheek. All around her, catcalls and shouts of excitement filled the early March air, as Quidditch players zipped back and forth above their heads. It was a Slytherin vs. Gryffindor game, so the air was thick with intensity. Hermione was bitting her nails nervously, watching Harry, Draco, and Ron speed past her on their brooms, each contributing their own to the match.

The match had been going on for quite some time now, there having been several sightings of the Snitch, but no successful captures. The Slytherin team was ahead by twenty points, and the game was getting more brutal and bloody than ever before. The commentator was sitting in the box with the clearest vantage point of the field, supervised by Professor McGonagall, as usual, and was being biased, as usual. He was yelling obscenities at the Slytherin team at every chance he got, and was cheering his own team on with a heated fervor.

Hermione spotted Harry hovering near the Slytherin goalposts, his gaze sweeping the field and air above him repeatedly for the Snitch. The Slytherin Keeper Bentley Van Ingeen threw him nasty glances every chance he got, and several bludgers were hurled his way, doing their best to unseat him. Draco was flying around above the field, keeping one eye open for the safety of his own players, and the other peeled for flashes of gold anywhere.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the two boys, and searched the players for flashes of red hair. True to formations set by Harry, Ginny and the other two chasers were moving into the Hawkshead Attacking Formation. Ron was stationed in his usual place, pacing back and forth between the three Gryffindor goalposts, his eyes open and alert for approaching Slytherin chasers with the Quaffle in possession. Random bludgers were tossed his way every now and then as well.

At that moment in time, Hermione's attention was grabbed by abrupt movement by the Slytherin goalposts. Harry's broom handle had been pointed at a 90-degree angle skyward, and as he gained height every second, Draco could be seen shooting across the field to the area Harry had spotted the snitch. Hermione doubted that Draco had seen the snitch yet at the distance he was from where Harry had tilted his broom upward. In a few moments, the match would be over, with another Gryffindor victory underneath Harry's belt.

These were the times when the most Hermione had to worry about was who to be happy for, Draco or her own Gryffindor team.

A loud shout jerked Hermione from her memory, and brought her back to reality. The Ravenclaw players were all descending to the ground, and it seemed that the practice was over. A few of her students waved to her, and she waved back before standing unsteadily to her feetShe had stopped trying a while ago to hide her pregnancy, and now the entire school knew of her burgeoning stomach. Two of her N.E.W.T. level Ancient Runes students raced over to her after setting their brooms down on the dead grass. She smiled graciously at them both as each grabbed one of her elbows to help her down the metal steps of the stands.

"Thanks girls," Hermione said.

"Of course, Professor," one of the girls, Kimmy Canningsaid, smiling, her brown eyes crinkling softly around the corners.

"How was our practice?" Ivana McKie asked eagerly.

"Oh, it was quite good," Hermione lied. She hadn't seen one bit of it. "When's your first match?"

"November-something" Kimmy replied. "Westin knows," she said, referring to their captain.

"I'm sure you'll do quite well," Hermione said, as they began to walk back towards where the girls had laid their brooms. "Do you know who the match is against?"

"Oh, that we know for sure!" Ivana answered, pulling the ponytail that held her black braided hair out. It swished down to the middle of her back, and Hermione was reminded briefly of Angelina Johnson. Her dark chocolate skin shone prettily in the bright October sun. "It's against Slytherin. It's all we've been hearing since Westin got the first schedule. 'We have to beat Slytherin,' " she mimicked, doing her best impression of Westin's deep voice.

Hermione laughed delightedly as both girls bent to pick up their broomsticks. "It's wonderful to know that inter-house rivalry still exists."

"Oh, of course it does," Kimmy answered with vigor. Her freckled skin was dappled with sweat. "Anyways, see you later Professor."

"Yeah," Ivana agreed, and Hermione waved to them as they joined their team in the Ravenclaw locker rooms.

Hermione watched the girls heads disappear down the stairs, and then she set off on a long walk to a place that held both joyful anddespondent memories for her.

Hermione had always loved to take walks around the Hogwarts grounds in her youth, especially during the autumn months. The mountains around the school were speckled with ochre and auburn leaves and dark green pines and in the vast lake floated dead leaves that the giant squid knew to leave alone in fear of indigestion. The crunching of leaves was always such a pleasant sound to her, along with bird calls, and Hermione loved the feeling of cool air on her cheeks and in her hair. For about twenty minutes Hermione walked, not heeding the protest her ankles and feet were making, and after rounding a grove of dilapidated verdant and dead pine trees, found herself somewhere both beautiful and mournful at the same time.

The Hogwarts chapel, for those among the student and teacher body who were religious, stood on a cliff overlooking a portion of the lake, and a large, expansive graveyard stretched out behind it. The graves were all old, and most of the epitaphs scratched onto the headstones were illegible. Worn, treaded paths wove in and out of the grave stones, and flowers of people still being mourned stood proudly in above the decaying bodies.

Hermione took the path that led to the worn and battered door, scrutinizing the stone walls of the church that had stayed intact (of course, through the help of magic) since the construction of the school over one thousand years ago.

She stepped through the door, the doorknob cold in her hands, causing her to shiver. As soon as she stepped through the door, soft, melodic music came in contact with her ears.

She couldn't see the organ, because it wasaround a corner, but she knew exactly who was playing it. No one else she knew could execute that song with such precision and exactitude. It was the wedding march that had been played at their wedding, and as Draco's fingers flew over the ivory and ebony keys, Hermione felt a sense of belonging, being this close to him.

The church was small and archaic, the musty smell of misuse permeating every inch of space. Sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows that hung above the altar, throwing dappled light over the stone floor. A large wooden cross hung on the left wall, and the dark wooden pews were cracked with age, the shine of finish having been dulled from the surface after years of use. Candles burned constantly, amber light flooding the chapel during the evening, and the bible that Dumbledore had read from during the church service was open on the pedestal. Thin, dusty pages were held open by a brown ribbon.

Hermione stayed in the chapel until the wedding march was finished, and then left silently, tears becoming a constant on her face.

About two weeks later, on a Saturday, Hermione apparated into a dark alleyway on the outskirts of London, and climbed up the iron staircase that lead to the third floor apartment. It was early in the afternoon, and her umbrella was up due to the rain falling down steadily from the iron-laden sky. Ginny's porch light was on, a glow of amber light amidst gloomy darkness. Paint was pealing away from the door, and Hermione closed her umbrella as she stepped underneath the awning. She rapped loudly on the door, and a few seconds later heard a faint call from within, announcing Ginny's presence inside the house.

A few moments later, the bottom of the door scraped on the mat outside, and Ginny leaned against the side of the door, with no make-up and a smile on her face.

"Hello Hermione, come to call unexpectedly?" Ginny asked, opening the door wider for Hermione to step through and join her on the other side. The back door led to the kitchen, and Hermione wiped her feet off on a small wiry mat decorated in ivy. "Here, I'll take your cloak to the closet," Ginny offered, as Hermione slipped her shoes off and left them near the door.

"Thanks, Gin," she replied, slipping her cloak off her shoulders and sitting down slowly in one of the scrubbed wooden chairs that sat at the table. Ginny scurried off for a few seconds, and when she came back busied herself at the sink, filling a kettle with hot water, and put tea leaves in two tea cups. When she had placed the kettle on the stove, she sat across from Hermione, and folded her hands in her lap.

"How's life?" She asked placidly. Hermione noted that she had not gotten dressed for the day, and was still in a pair of knickers and a comfortable looking jumper that had Ministry Official blazoned across the front. Her long red hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail.

"Uncomfortable," Hermione replied bitterly, and it was quite plain that it was uncomfortable for her. As it was quite close to her due date, she was extremely large, her hands resting on her stomach.

"I'm sorry, I'm not the least bit presentable. I've been doing some research for the Ministry, and I hadn't bothered getting dressed or anything. I can, if you would like to go out somewhere."

"No, no," Hermione said, shaking her head slowly. "I haven't desired to go out anywhere the past two months, and I most certainly don't want to right now. I would much rather just sit here in your cozy kitchen and discuss what it is that I came here about."

"Very well," Ginny replied, brushing a bit of her fringe out of her eyes. At that moment, the tea kettle screamed shrilly, cutting Hermione off as she opened her mouth, and Ginny stood up to get the tea ready. "Are you hungry, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head, and after Ginny placed two sugar cubes and a spoonful of honey in both cups, sat down in front of Hermione again.

Hermione sipped her tea slowly, as it was still steaming quite profusely, and then set the cup down on the table, wiping the rim of the cup with a napkin from the condiment's basket that sat on the table pushed against the wall.

"My maternity leave is starting this week, and I need someone to fill in for me for a few months." Hermione began. "I was hoping you might do it for me, since you were so adapt at Arithmancy and Ancient Runes when we were at Hogwarts. I chose you since you work out of your home, and it won't be such a trial to get your work for the Ministry finished at Hogwarts. I would be forever in your debt if you could do this for me. It's getting extremely difficult for me to carry on with classes. I've brought all of my class outlines and assignments for the next few months, etc., and all you would really have to do is hand out assignments and give them the notes that I've written out here." Hermione paused for a moment, and reached down onto the floor where she had set a leather briefcase-looking object, and lifted it up onto her lap. She unzipped it, and took out a bunch of papers, and her teacher's editions of the books she followed for her classes. Ginny saw Hermione's perfect handwriting on tons of rolls of parchment, and tiny colored tabs were stuck to the pages of the books. "I have it all sectioned out, which chapters you are to cover when, and I have all of the tests and quizzes, etc. that the students are to take in my absence. I really need your help, Ginny."

"Of course, Hermione, I would be ecstatic to help you with your classes. I'm wondering how you managed to hold out this long."

"Thank you so much," Hermione replied gratefully. "You wouldn't ever have to grade anything, just drop the papers off to me every day or so, and I'll get them back to you as soon as possible, and I'll come by the classes every now and then to be sure that the students are behaving. If you have any discipline problems, just take them up with me and I'll be sure to take care of them. My leave ends after Christmas, so you won't need to stay longer than that. Of course, Albus will pay you and be sure you receive compensation for the time missed at home, etc., I've already discussed this with him, don't worry."

Ginny smiled, and nodded as Hermione packed all of the materials back into the leather briefcase. She handed the case across the table, and then drank the rest of her tea, which had cooled considerably.

"So," Hermione said conversationally, setting her empty tea cup back down in front of her. "How're things with Grady going?" Hermione asked, referring to Ginny's most recent love interest.

"Oh, fine," Ginny replied, waving her hand in front of her face. "He's really kind of boring me right now, and I don't know how to break it to him."

"Ginny, you really should start thinking about settling down with someone," Hermione answered, toying with the handle on her tea cup.

"You sound just like my mother," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Besides, you're a fine one to talk, what with all this Harry/Draco nonsense you have going on."

"But we're not talking about me right now, Gin, we're talking about you." Hermione replied assertively. "Is there anyone at work you might fancy?"

"Hermione, you know I'm hardly ever at the office," Ginny answered in an exasperated tone. "When I first started working there, I opted for doing out-of-home work, and that's what I do. The only time I'm up there is when I have to report some new information I've found to the head of the department."

"Ok, ok Gin, I was just wondering you know," Hermione said in defense, holding her hands up in front of her chest. "Are there any cute guys around your apartment?"

"No, not really. They're quite boring, stuffy old muggles who would never understand anything about magic, and who would probably report me to the authorities if I ever mentioned anything about being a witch."

"Oh Ginny, you're being quite boring," Hermione replied in a joking manner.

"Oh well, what can I say? I've been holed up in this apartment for the last few months doing nothing but perfectly boring research comparing the Ministry of Magic in other countries to the one right here in London. Could you imagine working on that?"

"Actually, I think it would be quite-" Hermione started, but Ginny cut her off.

"Hermione! I really need to get back to work!" Ginny said, contradicting everything she had just said as Hermione stood up, and Ginny snatched her cup out of her hand, pushing the small of her back towards the door.

"Ginny make sure you're at Hogwarts bright and early Monday morning! I put the schedule of all of my classes in the bag as well." Hermione called one last time as Ginny went to retrieve her cloak from the hall closet.

"Hermione I know, I'll probably be at Hogwarts tomorrow evening in time for dinner."

"Oh good, then I'll see you then?" Hermione questioned as she fastened her cloak and slipped her shoes back on.

"Of course you will, goodbye," Ginny waved as Hermione opened her umbrella and stepped out into the stormy weather.

After Ginny shut the door, Hermione sniffed loudly, and started down the stairs slowly but surely, one hand clutching her stomach and the other her umbrella. As soon as she stepped into the dark alleyway, and was sure that no prying eyes were peeking through curtains, she apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts.

Almost a week later, on October 20th, Hermione gave birth to fraternal twins, one boy and one girl, after a long and tedious labor which consisted of many cries, hand gripping and sweating on both Harry and Hermione's parts. Hermione, true to her conversation with Sinead over the summer, named the babies after Harry's parents, Thomas James and Cadalyn Lily. The children's last names were up for serious debate.

The children were beautiful, complete paradoxes of one another. Thomas had silver-blonde hair to match his fathers, and deep-brown eyes to match his mothers. Cadalyn was a different story: her hair dark brown, her eyes molten silver. Harry seemed oblivious to the obvious, not noticing that neither of the children had green eyes, or a scar on their forehead for that matter.

A/N: Hello everyone! Yes, I am alive and well, as you can see. Hiatus is over and I'm back in action, trying to get this fic written and finished so I can start another one. Not to worry, I have a lot of ideas. I apologize profusely for my absence. I don't know how anxious you have been to read this chapter, but here it is. More's coming, whether you can predict what it is or not.

This chapter stands unedited at this moment, except for the few times that I read over it. I really wanted to get it all out to you guys, the few of you who might have still stuck with me over this time period, and when my beta sends me back her version, I'll be sure to post it right away.

I'm on spring break right now, and I'm going to try and write a chapter a day. We'll see how successful I am at that. The amount of time it takes for me to get each chapter out greatly depends on how many reviews I get (:wink wink:) and how much time and energy my beta has (thank you serenity, I don't think I would have started this chapter if it wasn't for your constant buggering). There aren't that many chapters left in this fic anyways.

Reviews are greatly appreciated, as I've stated over and over in previous chapters. If you guys want anything special to happen in any upcoming chapters, please include it in your review, and I'll see what I can do. I love to hear your opinion; it encourages me to write more. See you soon! xoxo–Auburn Lily