Chapter 20: A Slight Shift in Circumstance

A/N: Do you know what I hate about most Chick-Lit's and RomComs? Not enough periods...

"I can't stay." She breathed against his lips. He had her pressed against a wall in one of the many halls of Malfoy manor. A scandalised painting mouthed wordlessly at them.

"I can come back with you." He mumbled into her jaw, fingers splaying against her hips.

"I… I can't, I can't have sex tonight." Hermione spluttered the words out. Her period had arrived mid-movie, and she'd made a dash for the toilet. The subterranean and persistent pain from her monthly womb cleaning had already started.

"That's fine. I just want to hold you, Darling." He said, unperturbed entirely by her declaration.

"Aren't you going to ask why?" she was flummoxed by his acceptance.

"You have a reason, Granger, and that's reason enough, is it not?" he returned to her lips with tender caresses that made her feel very much adored.

"oh." she grinned. She wasn't sure what else to say. She'd been on a date with Oliver Wood once, and when she'd told him her period had started, he'd frowned and left after his main course saying 'not much point in eeking this out'. Ron had been so disgusted by the notion of blood coming from her vagina that he slept on the sofa when she was on .

"Oh?" he gazed down at her with curious eyes. Draco wondered if he'd just set another benchmark for Granger given her paltry dating history. It was always nice to be ahead of the curve, he smirked. Another opportunity to showcase your potential life partnering skills. "Is it your moon cycle?" he asked kindly, smoothly, and calmly, which he was sure projected an air of worldliness and superiority above all men. The little burst of confusion and widening of her eyes made the moment of discomfort he felt worthwhile.

"em… Yes." Draco watched as a blush spread over her cheeks at her admission. Perhaps it had been Narcissa's insistence that he read about the female reproductive system (her way of trying to ensure no stray babes were made at Hogwarts to suckle on the family inheritance), or maybe it had been Pansy Parkinson's bluntness around her time of the month, but Draco never understood some men's revulsion. He wasn't suddenly keen to be rolling about in Hermione's womb lining, but he wouldn't treat her like a pariah because her body functioned as it was supposed to.

"does it hurt?" He spread his hand on her belly. He'd read that ancient Myan women bred chihuahua's to hold against their bellies to ease cramps. Maybe he'd read that wrong.

"a bit." She nodded.

He lifted her into his arms, his new favourite pastime. "What on earth are you doing now?"

"I'm going to carry you to my room," he strode with purpose as he spoke. "I'm going to lay you on my bed," he grinned into her neck. "Then I'm going to curl up beside you and talk about my feelings."

She snorted a laugh as he, as promised, placed her on his bed. His mattress was huge. It was the size of a modest home office. "Do the elves sleep in here with you?" She laughed, indicating the acreage of his sleep space.

"I know it's obnoxious." he stoked the fire. "But when you've got a manor this size to fill, sometimes the only option is bigger furniture." He shrugged and threw himself onto the bed beside her. "Now, where were we?" he pulled her into his lap as he rested against the massive, ornate headboard. "ah." he tapped his wand to his hand and watched as it glowed orange. He moved his fingers to her tea dress that had buttons from neck to toe and attacked the ones at her lower belly.

"Draco, I meant it, I can't…" she started, but he hushed her with a raised eyebrow.

"I know, darling," With three buttons open and her belly button exposed, he slid his palm over the slightly bloated roundness of her belly. Warmth flooded her from his touch. "Does this help?"

She felt like butter, "Wow." she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his chin. "Where did you learn that?"

"Do you read Witch Weekly?" he flexed his fingers. She felt the tense knots of her reproductive organs sigh with relief.

"not religiously." She answered, moving her fingers to card the fine hair at the nape of his neck.

"Pans did, in school." he chuckled "she'd read us the 'perfect boyfriend' column every Saturday." he sighed thoughtfully as he shuffled down and pulled her with him. He lay on his back, propped up by the mountain of pillows, and she lay on top of him, facing the ceiling. Nearly every part of her back touched a part of his front, and it felt glorious. He rubbed a circle on her belly with his warm hand as his other picked up the fingers of one of her hands and twisted them together. "It was our little tradition. Thoe, Blasie, and I would sit on the sofa while Pansy and the Witch Weekly educated us on being attentive partners." he laughed at how stupid they'd all been as children. The motion jiggled her slightly.

"There was me trying to get Ron and Harry to eat with their mouths closed." Hermione squeezed his fingers.

"I'm pretty sure that was a failed attempt. I've seen Potter eat at a gala." his fingers trailed around her belly button before his palm settled again. "Anyway, this…" he wiggled his fingers, "was one of the suggestions for men to be helpful to their girlfriends during that time." he kissed the top of her head.

Hermione wondered if this then made her his girlfriend. It had been so long since she'd worn that title. She'd got as far as 'seeing' Oliver and 'dating' Krum, but nobody else had deemed her worth that title other than Ron. She hated herself for even thinking those thoughts, so the best she could do was not act on them. Not show the man, currently serving as her mattress and hot water bottle, that she desperately wanted that. When had she started wanting that?

"You said, this morning, that you had to re-evaluate your approach, what with me being a 'modern muggle-born woman'" she framed the phrase with fingered bunny ears. "so how do your people do this?" she reattached her hand to his now that she was done with her physical punctuation.

"You know what, Granger, I think I misspoke. It's less to do with your origins and more to do with mine. My people let their parents pick." he murmured, dragging her much smaller frame up his body, so her head rested next to his, in the crook of his neck.

"I can see why you had to divert your course." she laughed nervously. Draco turned his head and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Thank heavens she'd put her hair in a bun atop her head lest he kisses a mouthful of frizz. "I'm never pick of the Draft for the Malfoys."

"Now hold on there, Granger, a slight shift in circumstance is all it would take." he wrapped his non-heating arm around her too, pulling her hand with his. Cocooning her in his embrace. "no Voldemort."

"Oh, just a slight shift, Malfoy?" She was fully laughing, and she could feel the rumble of his own chuckle beneath her.

"Imagine, if you will, a world where he just didn't happen. Yes, there's blood supremacy and inequality and all the terrible things I'm sure you'll put an end to Darling. But nobody has taken the helm."

"So it's still there, all the shit, just without the focus and organisation of an evil leader?" she offered. These were the kinds of conversations reserved for drunk nights with Harry, sitting in a tent in the garden for old times sake.

"Precisely." he pressed another kiss to her cheek, a reward.

"Well, in that world, I'd have no friends." Hermione laughed a little dryly. She'd thought about this 'magical' alternative world before. She was no stranger to it. "If there's no peril, there's no need for me. Harry thinks he'd have warmed to me anyway… but not like how we are now." she scrunched her nose and wondered if it made her selfish to be in some way glad Voldemort had existed.

"You'd have different friends." he turned her chin to him and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her mouth.

"You think?" She whispered, her core throbbing despite her babymaker being in self-cleaning mode.

"Oh yes, I mean I'd still have been a demon to you," he smirked as she turned to face the ceiling again with a roll of her eyes. "Can't be helped, Granger, a dark overlord didn't turn me into a spoiled little hellion. That was mother and father and their complete lack of parental instincts." He swallowed. "I'd have gone home full of vinegar and piss, complaining about this bushy-haired, Gryffindor, swot who bested me in all my lessons, and my mother would have given me a knowing look…."

"No, she would not!" Hermione was laughing again. "In no world does Narcissa Malfoy hear you whinge about me and then 'Give you a knowing look'" She was almost breathless with the incredulous laughter that rippled through her chest. He needed her to stop because a shaking Hermione laying on top of him was a shaking Hermione… his penis didn't care for context.

"You're going to feel so foolish in a moment, Granger" He tightened his grip on her, "Because that is exactly what happened. Except we live in the real world, so I was warned not to speak of you by my mother. Then I was berated and beaten by old Lucky for potentially embarrassing him in front of a Voldemort who was still at this point dead but might come back one day to find out his loyal follower had a son who wasn't as clever as a Muggle-born." he swallowed. He'd never told anyone that.

"Draco." She tried to turn over into him, but he held her fast.

"I think people don't realise the extent of my father's madness. He wasn't babbling. He was clean and neat and spoke well, but a sane man doesn't do the things he did on the off chance his master might come back to life one day." she was pressing kisses into his cheek as he spoke. She knew the weight of these words. This, this part was most definitely real. "Mother went along because he was the husband picked for her, and she wasn't going to disgrace her mother by refusing. Narcissa truly detested all of it."

"I know that." Hermione nodded. She feared Narcissa, not because she might be a death eater, but because Narcissa had the ability to shrink humans with her cruel, cruel words. "so…" She swallowed and trailed her fingers over his tense fingers. "In this world of slightly shifted circumstances, what happens." she pulled him from the darker path, back to his story.

"Ah, yes, My mother would look knowingly at me, Granger." he emphasised the phrase that had derailed them, "and then she'd tell Lucky…."

"Do you call him Lucky because he hates it?" Hermione knew already but wanted to hear his answer.

He let out a dry laugh "it is profound to be understood." he pressed another kiss to her cheek, "on the nose, darling."

"If Lucky could see us now," Hermione smirked and turned her head, catching his lips in hers.

"I've never felt more… attracted to you," he muttered. He'd been about to say something else.

"Back to the story, I'm getting a valuable insight into how the other half live here." She settled her head back to resting and shimmied against him.

"She'd tell him about the girl I won't stop complaining about in my class. And he'd roll his eyes and tell her she was dreaming and that I'm too young, and then she'd tell him you're a muggle-born, and he'd say something awful because he's still him." Draco could feel her laughing. He was relieved. "And mother would say something abhorrent like 'oh they're all the rage now, muggle borns'." Her laughter grew, and he felt like he had someone to confide in for the first time. He hadn't made her take a secret oath nor threatened her with death. He'd just shared, with trust. It was extraordinarily novel.

"Mother would've cornered your parents on the platform before the start of the second year, found out all about them, their jobs and oh, she'd have given you the once over too." Hermione yawned and nuzzled into him as he spoke, "She'd have asked you how you spent your summer."

"I'd have told her I was reading the entire works of Gerald Marsden so I could have a better grasp of the origins of spells." Hermione spoke into his neck, "because that is what I did that summer." she smiled.

"Oh, she'd have been impressed with that Granger." He slid her off him and down to his side, so he could roll over and look her in the eye, his heated hand still on her belly, the hand holding her own trapped between them. "I think even old Lucky might have given you a begrudging nod."

"What a treat." she ran her free hand over his chin and marvelled at how he watched her.

"Mother would have told me 'be sweet to that girl' before I got on the train, and I'd have said something along the lines of 'but Mumma she's a terrible swot'." He played up his fancy boy image for her amusement and revelled in her smiles.

"do you think you'd have done as you were told?" she pulled at his bottom lip with her thumb, in awe of how very comfortable she felt touching him.

"It's a well-known fact I was a mothers boy, but also that I was a little twat." he nibbled at her thumb with his teeth for emphasis, "I think it would have been a bit of push and pull, but at the end sweet would win out." he nodded. "I'd probably have given you my address, asked you to write me over summer."

"Then in the third year, instead of walloping you, maybe I'd kiss you instead?" she blushed, craning her neck to demonstrate.

"Now, when that happens, things get serious." He furrowed his brows. "I'd have to write home to mother, and she'd have to visit your mother and discuss the terms of our potential bonding."

Hermione roared with laughter. "And she would say 'ha' and then 'no'" Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. "Is this how it actually happened for you? Were you… betrothed." The old fashioned word felt like felt on her tongue.

"there was no kissing or knowing looks, I'm afraid." he closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Mother arranged a bonding with Astoria Greengrass when I was 15. Her family has a home in Siberia. It was a fail-safe in case…." He trailed off, keeping his eyes closed.

"But 'in case' didn't happen." She squeezed his hand, still in hers at her left side, pressing into his right.

"quite, and I extracted myself from that situation as gracefully as a man rejecting a woman can." he finally opened his eyes again. "So come the fourth year, no pending doom, pictures of us loved up at the Yule Ball would have spread far and wide, and mother and father would be worried."

"Because…"

"Because their greatest fear, when death isn't looming over them, is that I will impregnate a woman who is not my wife, and she will sire a vengeful bastard who will destroy our family." He grinned. He was very aware that the Malfoys were a whole rainbow of mental.

"your family have a flare for the dramatics," she sighed and stretched. "Would you have made me wear green to the ball?" she smirked at him.

"No." he shook his head firmly, making his hair drag and muss on the pillow. "You wear that exact dress. You were perfect in periwinkle."

"It was lavender."

"It was periwinkle, Granger" he gave her a look that said there would be no further discussion. "we'd have lost so many house points that night." His face slid into a smirk.

"Why's that?" She knew why

"All the places I would have snogged you." he grinned against her lips.

"behave," She scolded, a slight blush painted her cheeks. "Then what? What's Narcissa going to do about us?"

"Ah, fifth year." he nodded, "You'd have visited over the summer, of course, so that the old parental units could get a better look at you and so I could show you my massive mattress." he wiggled his eyebrows.

"No," she shook her head primly. "I wouldn't have succumbed to your wiles, Draco. We're too young!" she grinned at him, loving this part of the tale.

"Quite right, Hermione, no sex, but maybe a little under the blouse over the pants action?" the tip of his pinky grazed the lace trim of her underwear, and she shivered, despite the heated hand.

"agreed." Her blush intensified. She was giddy for a teenager who never existed.

"We head back to Hogwarts, a power couple, study partners, potion partners…" she interrupted him with a wistful sigh.

"Oh, to have had you as a partner in potions would've been a dream."

"Of course, it's the promise of a higher grade that gets you going, woman." He can't help but smile at her. She was perfect.

"I like what I like." she pursed her lips.

"We'd ace our OWLs. You'd beat me in everything, which would annoy me deeply, but I'd put on a brave face because of how very proud of you I was." his voice dipped as he pulled the arms between them up and dragged her knuckles to his lips.

"Then." she nodded, and her eyelashes fluttered. "That's when we'd… make love" she'd never, in all her life, used that term to describe something 'she'd do' even with Ron, they shagged. There was a breathless silence then his face cracked into a grin.

"Where?" He asked quietly.

"In the room of requirement," She didn't allow him to dwell on what that room meant to him. To her, it was a special place. It's where she'd have wanted to lose her hypothetical virginity to Draco Malfoy… in a world where Voldemort didn't exist. "You'd have made it all nice for me." She smiled shyly.

"Seems on-brand, I'd probably have gone overboard, and we'd laugh at how very unbearably cheesy I was when we were older." he rolled his eyes. At least he was self-aware.

"But I'd have loved it."

"Mother would know, and she'd host a luncheon over the summer…." Hermione stopped him with a strained whine of doubtfulness.

"How on earth would your mother know we had sex?"

"She'd just know." He was blushing now.

"Oh my god! Did you tell her?" On behalf of her hypothetical self, a bit of irrational rage bubbled.

"She asked!" He laughed as they played out their fight. "I couldn't lie to my mother!"

"You can! That's what you're meant to do! My mum doesn't know." Hermione tutted.

"She knows! she can tell Granger!" Hermione beamed up at him. "Look at that smile. She knows" He kissed her with a little more force.

"So your mother knows, what's the next move?" Hermione refused to believe her mum had some sort of spidey sense regarding her deflowering.

"the luncheon, Narcissa's chosen field of battle." he pulled his lips to one side as he thought, "contract or no, she'd have presented us as courting and dared anyone to ask her the particulars," Draco smirked.

"What does 'courting' mean to Pure-bloods?" Hermione wondered.

"It's essentially an engagement to be engaged. Barring a disaster, there will be a wedding in the future." He cleared his throat. "Probably seems very old fashioned to you. I've seen enough muggle 'dating' on television to know it's a very different playing field."

"is that what you're working off of?" She yawned, tiredness creeping up on her. "television?"

"Mostly, and just gut instinct." he kissed her again and felt his own yawn creeping. "Stay, I'll get you jammies and a cup of tea, and I'll let you hog the blankets."

Hermione felt the trepidation only a woman on her period could feel. Few men could genuinely understand the anxiety of sleeping on a foreign territory with the threat of leakage. She swallowed. "What if I make a mess?" She wasn't sure how to verbalise her fear. She looked down at herself as if to explain.

"then we'll clean up." he smiled warmly, and she felt her heart leap.