Hullo!
Hope you're all still hanging in there, my apologies for the unexpected break but we should be back to regular updates now ?
Nif.
A few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron, they found Hermione's craving. A tiny little chip shop with a burly looking man behind the counter and the best mushy peas she'd ever had. They each gotten something after a short discussion on the merits and abomination of mushy peas and settled in the empty sidewalk.
They were all silent as they munched on the chips. Three because they were contently drunk and one because she was content being fed. Something Hermione frequently found she needed now that she was pregnant, Hermione had been quite used to missing lunch during busy workdays, but now she religiously hunted down Betty the sandwich witch as the clock struck twelve. Blaise and Padma sat on a low bench across from Hermione and Draco leant back on the wall, eyes half-closed as he tilted his head back on the cool bricks.
Hermione chuckled at him. His chips balanced in his hand precariously, unwanted and cooling quickly in the night air.
"What are you laughing at, Granger?" Draco purred at her, cracking one eye open to look at her.
"You're drunk," Hermione said to him, taking the unwanted chips from him and dumping the remains in the bin with her own.
Draco smirked and denied nothing. Hermione walked back to him, enjoying the sight of the ruffled Malfoy. She liked him like this, open and unhindered.
A breeze travelled down the small street, blowing Hermione's hair around her face and she pulled her light cloak around her tighter. It was meant for warmth travelling too and from work not for gallivanting around with hungry drunks close to midnight. They didn't stand out too much, their cloaks the only distinguishing difference from normal business wear. The man at the Chippie hadn't even looked twice at their slightly less than muggle attire. Clearly, there were things you just didn't question that late at night in the middle of London.
"You're cold," Draco said, watching Hermione.
Eyes more alert and concerned as Hermione shrugged and turned, trying to control the chattering of her teeth so he wouldn't see. Draco frowned at her dismissal of the obvious. He shuffled down the wall and reached for her.
"Come here, Granger." He muttered, tugging on the back of her cloak and pulling her towards him. "I'm not going to let the mother of my child freeze."
Hermione couldn't do much as he tugged her backwards until she was standing between his legs, only a pace in front of him. She could feel his warmth already, fuelled from the fire whisky. Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her into his chest. His arms engulfed and warmed her to the core.
"Weasley is a fucking fool," Draco muttered softly, eyelids closing again. Hermione rested her own hand on his arm as his heat spread through her.
Line, Hermione's mind screamed, this is the line, Hermione, you are very quickly crossing it! Hermione gulped and didn't move; she didn't dare as Draco's warm chest pressed against her back and stopped her shivering. It's just for warmth, she reasoned, nothing more.
Hermione let herself feel Draco's muscular chest breathing against her. He smelt like she remembered, even down to the fire whisky. Hermione's core stirred to life; this was her Draco. Oh god, where was that line again? Draco's head tipped down, his nose nuzzling into her hair and his stubbled chin brushing her neck.
"You smell good." He murmured close to her ear, she could feel his warm breath.
One hand on his arm Hermione desperately tried to convince herself that this was still friendly, that he was holding her the same way that Harry would, but it was complete bollocks. Hermione didn't want it to end, she wanted to have Draco's lips curl against her throat and sink their way down.
"Aren't they 'just friends'?" She heard Padma whisper to Blaise, both of whom were watching the progression of their friends go from playful affection to inappropriately sensual for a street corner in London.
"That's the current tag line," Blaise muttered back, clearly amused rather than abhorred at witnessing his boss pushing himself against Hermione's back.
Merlin, Hermione thought, this was going too far. Draco was an affectionate drunk, and she was getting her fix when he could barely stand upright. She needed to stop, her eyes fluttered open, and she breathed out a low sigh. She didn't want to do this; she craved his touch. Something she was determined to pin on being pregnant.
"Too far, Draco," Hermione whispered reluctantly back to the Slytherin wrapping himself around her.
Draco stilled, paused and for a desperate minute, Hermione thought he might try to convince her this was a friendly gesture, just something to warm her. Gods, she wanted him too. These hormones were dangerous, his arms wrapped around her soothed and electrified in a way she'd never felt before. Finally, Draco pulled his head back with the smallest groan. Draco's hands were still wrapped around her middle, warm and comforting.
Just as he was beginning to extract himself from her, exposing Hermione once more to the chill of the night, a blinding light flashed.
"Ergh." Draco groaned, loudly this time as he pulled back from Hermione entirely. "What in Merlin was that?"
Hermione breath sucked in. She knew. She knew exactly what it was.
"Fuck." She whispered, bright spots still flooding her eyes.
She blinked rapidly, trying to see again. This wasn't good. In fact, if she was right, this was really, really bad. As Hermione's vision returned, she heard Padma exclaim.
"Hey! You can't just do that."
Hermione's insides withered as she stared at the large camera that had blinded her with its flash. She'd been right. They'd been followed by a wizarding reporter. A smug young man who Hermione swore looked familiar. Quill scribbling quickly for him, he shrugged at Padma.
"Free country, lady. I can photograph people who conduct their business on the street."
Idiots. Hermione realised how stupid she'd been to presume their safety in muggle London. Now the press had managed to capture a moment of weakness, one that would look very convincingly like she and Draco were in fact dating if it were to be published in the Prophet.
"Blaise," Draco growled out from behind Hermione.
Blaise, who was closest to the strange wizard and already standing, grinned a wicked smile and clamped a hand on his shoulder.
"Basil," Blaise said, "mate. Why don't we have a quick chat, buddy?"
The wizard stiffened and glanced eyes between Blaise and Draco warily. He clutched his camera nervously, and even his quill retreated into his satchel. Blaise turned the man carefully, moving him down the street away from their group.
"Relax, pal." Hermione heard Blaise say, "I promise I'll make it worth your while."
Hermione, mouth still open in shock, turned to Draco.
"What exactly is Blaise going to do to that man?" She asked sternly, as much as she didn't want that photo in the press, Hermione suddenly felt like she was in a mafia movie and was somewhat concerned for the poor wizard's knee caps.
Draco smirked, a drunk half-smile but his eyes looked more focused than before. She didn't know if it was the blinding light or the horrifying realisation that they'd been caught that had caused his eyes to become clearer and his posture to pull straighter.
"Relax, Hermione." He murmured, still sounding drunk. "He's just going to talk to him, make sure that photo doesn't get printed tomorrow."
Hermione pursed her lips as she looked up at him. His eyes were genuine, but she still knew there was no way anyone, not even the smooth-talking Blaise, was going to simply talk that reporter into not printing the picture.
"He's not going to do anything to him?" She asked, hands not firmly on hips. "And no using magic on him?"
Draco smirked, one hand reached out and tugged at hers.
"I promise." He whispered.
Draco's thumb brushed over the back of Hermione's hand, more electricity running through her veins at the simple gesture. Gods, she thought, she felt like she was going to melt. Even moments after being caught and almost outed to the British wizarding world, Hermione wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrap around her once more.
Padma, who gratefully might have a sixth sense for feeling Hermione's resolve crumble, cleared her throat and stepped closer. It was much harder to ignore the fraternising couple when Blaise wasn't there to amuse and distract her.
"Right," Padma said, claiming Hermione's arm and tugging her away. "I think that's about enough excitement for one evening."
Hermione sighed, knowing she was right but also wanting, very much, for her to be wrong. She was, photograph excluding, enjoying her evening with Draco and their friends. They were getting along, he was affectionate, and Hermione, for the first time in over a week, was in a good mood.
Padma pulled Hermione along, heading back towards the Leaky Cauldron, holding tightly to the woman as Draco trailed along behind them. A few streets along Blaise lounged against the window of a muggle shop front, a relaxed grin on his face.
Nothing was spoken of the reporter, but Blaise gave Draco a clear and unmistakable nod as he joined their little party. In his hands, he flipped and caught a film canister, as he pushed away from the wall and joined them, it was slipped into his pocket. Hermione let a little sigh of relief out and Padma squeezed her arm affectionately.
With a hip bump and a smile, Padma leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
"Just friends, huh?"
Hermione shushed Padma, quickly glancing over her shoulder at their Slytherin shadows. Draco smirked at her from the dark shadows, eyes travelling over her body and clearly landing on her ass. Hermione blushed and didn't have the heart to inform him that looks like that were most definitely 'too far'.
The four of them entered the old wizarding pub again, and Hermione saw the reporter, Basil, sitting at a table with some others. Of course, she realised, he'd been one of those she'd felt watching her before they'd left the Leaky. Clearly, their attempts at avoiding watchful eyes had failed spectacularly. Basil raised his glass at them and nodded, grinning like a fool. Hermione noted the expensive bottle of giggle water he set on the wooden table to the cheers of his friends. She wondered what he'd told them of his disappearance and sudden wealth upon his return. He'd obviously followed her odd little group when they'd left and taken the chance that he might get a good scoop on an otherwise quiet night. Hermione tried not to frown at him, she usually had the utmost respect for workaholics such as herself, but she had to draw the line somewhere.
As they passed through to the wizarding side of the pub and the little room with the floo, Hermione felt a hand touch her back. Hermione turned to Draco, but Padma didn't let go of her arm. Draco's eyes flashed, and he opened his mouth. He was interrupted before he could start when Blaise clapped a hand onto Draco's shoulder.
"Let's get you home, mate." Blaise and glanced at his watch. "I've got to get you sober, and port keyed to France in… less than five hours."
Hermione's face wilted, she'd forgotten France. Draco would be gone for days. She bit her lip, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Gods, these hormones. Hermione felt like a damn yoyo, spinning high and happy when Draco was with her and plunging to the ground the moment he wasn't. Pull yourself together, Hermione scowled herself, you're a perfectly functioning adult- you don't need to rely on a man to make you happy. Still, the idea of going any more time without seeing him when they'd just found a decent place as friends cut at her resolve and made herself bitterly disappointed in herself.
Draco nodded at Blaise but turned back to Hermione before Blaise could drag him away. He bent and kissed Hermione on the check.
"I'll be back by Tuesday," Draco said, hand brushing her waist again.
Hermione's heart thumped painfully in her chest as she pulled her arm away from Padma, not caring who may see. She wrapped her arms around Draco, burying her face in his chest. Draco pulled her in his arms tightly.
"You'll write?" She mumbled into his cloak.
Draco dropped a light kiss on the top of her head. Hermione looked up at him, noting from her peripheries that Blaise was rolling his eyes in Padma's direction. Draco gently tucked a loose curl of Hermione's hair behind her ear and smiled down at her. Her heart beat faster, a warm stirring in her core erupting once more as Draco looked down at her.
"I promise."
Thursday morning, Hermione lay in her bed thumbing through the Daily Prophet and sighing in relief that the photo from the previous night was not present when Apollo swooped in through her unlocked window. He hooted reproachfully that she was still in bed at eight in the morning and dropped a letter on her chest. To Hermione's surprise, the owl didn't depart but landed on the top of her dresser and settled down for his own morning nap.
Hermione recognised the neat, tight script of Draco on the envelope and discarded the Prophet on the other side of the bed. She'd been deliberating whether to read the gushing article about the perfect new addition to the Weasley family, but as soon as she got her hands on the letter, she ripped it open with impatient vigour. Hermione forced herself to stop and breathed slowly. She had a ridiculous giddy expression on her face, and she needed to calm down.
You shouldn't be getting this excited about a friend, she reminded herself. Once she'd calmed herself and was no longer grinning, she opened the envelope and read the contents.
Good Morning,
Are you aware that a Port Key is quite possibly the most horrific way to get sober? I am now unfortunate enough to be in possession of such knowledge.
Also, Blaise has been calling me a hair-sniffer all morning, so I'm going to presume I owe you an apology for that. In my defence, your hair is so bushy I'm pretty sure it attacked my face and not the other way around.
I've decided that this will be easier if Apollo stays with you as I know you don't have your own owl and I don't particularly wish to wait days before I get your letters while I'm stuck in this forsaken country. If you refuse, I'll just buy you an owl, and then you'll have to take it or be a horrid person who abandons their pets.
Let me know how you are, preferably daily. Don't worry about Apollo, he's bred for these sorts of flights, and honestly, I don't trust that there's not some kind of magic involved. What time is your appointment on Tuesday? I'm meant to have meetings in the morning, but I'll skip them if I have to.
D.M.
P.S. Blaise wishes to know when he'll officially be named as the Speck's Godfather.
Hermione smiled at the letter. This was her Draco. The one who teased her hair and thought threatening to blackmail her was an appropriate way to get what he wanted. Hermione snorted; this was the man she'd missed. Clearly, she was as barmy as he was if she found this endearing, even if she was mostly certain he was joking.
Hermione didn't give Apollo much of a chance to rest, she scrambled out of bed and pulled a piece of parchment from the drawer. She didn't have a lot of time; she'd already been having a lie-in and work started soon. Compared to usual, Hermione was practically late already.
Hi,
Thank you for sending Apollo, that was very thoughtful. My appointment is at two in the afternoon on Tuesday.
I hope France is going well. I know you've only been there for a few hours, but I forgot to tell you the other week. Week eight is almost over, but the Speck (fine, it's warming on me) was the size of a raspberry.
Thank you for getting Blaise to clear up the issue with that reporter. I'm not stupid enough to think Basil did it out of the goodness of his heart, I know it must have cost at least a sack of galleons. However, that doesn't mean that Blaise is necessarily going to be Godfather, I still think Harry would be ideal.
Hermione.
P.S. I don't think Apollo likes me very much, is there a treat he likes that I can get him?
By the time Hermione had returned from work on Thursday evening, Apollo was back, settled on his chosen place in her bedroom and another letter left on her dining table. Hermione grinned at it; she hadn't expected Draco to reply so quickly. Wasn't there was actually some business that he needed to attend to during his business trip?
Hermione,
Apollo doesn't like a lot of people. He also doesn't enjoy treats. However, he's a spoilt beast, let him free roam around you flat, and he'll love you. He's clean, so don't worry about having to clean up after him.
Also, Misty says you're not letting her clean your flat. She's distraught.
France is fine, very dull. Remind me to cut Blaise's salary until he promises he not to send me away again. Perhaps I could threaten to not make him Godfather. Which, for the record, Potter is most definitely not going to be. I said I'd be civil to the twat, not that I'd let him ruin my child with bloody tales of how great Gryffindor is.
Also, what is a telly?
D.M
Hermione had given Apollo the night off to rest and ended up too rushed in the morning, between trying to finish her usual routine and coping with her morning sickness, to return Draco's letter. On Friday evening, after a very long day of work and an enjoyable, yet rambling conversation with Luna Lovegood, Hermione finally got home and managed to sit down for more than five minutes.
Apollo munched happily on a treat while she wrote to Draco and even bumped his head against her hand as gave him the letter. Doesn't like treats, Hermione scoffed.
Draco,
I found a treat that Apollo likes! I went and saw Luna today, and she gave me these liver treats. They stink, but he likes them. I think we're finally bonding, yesterday while I was reading, he brought me a mouse. I'd hoped those days were over when Crookshanks passed.
I can't believe you think France is dull, Draco. There is so much history to see! You should visit the museums, even the muggle ones. I think you'd like them.
Misty managed to clean my flat yesterday so you can stop worrying about her. She's very sneaky when she wants to be.
Also, my parents will be back in a couple of weeks. I need to tell them about the Speck. I'm hoping we'll have a new ultrasound to show them too. The wizarding ones look almost exactly the same as muggle ones.
Hermione.
P.S. A telly is a television. It's a screen that shows recorded plays, sort of, it's easier if I just show you when you get back.
Hermione dreamt of snuggling on the couch and watching telly with Draco. She awoke on Saturday morning incapable of wiping the ridiculous grin off her face and kept catching sign of herself in the mirror as she busied herself tidying the flat. Not that it really needed to be cleaned, now that she'd reluctantly given Misty permission to clean the small flat it was almost continuously in a pristine state of perfection. With Draco gone, Misty had begun leaving baked goods, and even full meals, waiting for Hermione.
Hermione plucked a muffin off the benchtop and munched on it reluctantly. She hadn't wanted a house-elf. She hadn't wanted muffins to appear at her mere thought of them, but Misty was determined, and there was only so many times Hermione could say no when her stomach was growling at the sight of the food. On the bright side, she'd have something to offer Ginny and Harry when they arrived.
It had been too long since Hermione had seen them. W.O.F. was busier than ever, the additional donation from Malfoy Industries had fulfilled the funding for multiple projects, and now everyone was rushing around madly trying to get things moving. W.O.F. had already been mentioned four times in the Daily Prophet with all the new projects in full swing, but thankfully Hermione had gone unmentioned, one of the few perks of managing multiple projects rather than being the face of a single cause.
Hermione's floo roared to life just as she was finishing her first muffin and eyeing off a second.
"Good morning!" Ginny said happily, bounding through the small flat towards Hermione. "How are you? Are you showing yet? How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? Should I-"
Hermione was crushed into a typical Weasley hug before she could greet Ginny or even register her numerous questions.
"Ginny, love, try letting Hermione breathe." Harry chuckled at his wife as he entered the flat.
"Sorry!" Ginny gasped, releasing Hermione and inspecting her for damage carefully. "But how are you? It feels like it's been ages!"
"Ginny, it's barely been two weeks." Hermione laughed.
"Exactly." Ginny groaned, flopping onto the couch, "Ages."
Harry kissed Hermione on the cheek after rolling his eyes at his wife. Weasleys- incapable of not being around each other at all times, even when it drove them all barmy.
"How are you?" Harry asked.
"Good," Hermione said, smiling. She'd missed them, even if it had only been a couple of weeks. "I saw Padma the other night, she said to say 'hi'."
Ginny's head popped back over the couch, eyes glinting mischievously.
"I know, Padma wrote me a fascinating letter." Ginny said, "I heard Draco was there."
Ginny extended out Draco's name dramatically and rolled the 'r' with mocking seduction. Hermione tried not to blush as Ginny's smile grew wider.
"Yes," Hermione said, voice squeaking. "And Blaise."
Harry dropped onto the sofa next to his wife, watching curiously. Hermione lingered by the kitchen, knowing that sitting down would be giving into Ginny's interrogation. She'd weasel every last word of the evening if she could. Hermione bit her lip, unsure where to start. The last time she'd seen the Potter's she quite firmly told them that she and Draco were friends, only friends, and doing quite well at it. Fighting over presumed flirtation and getting caught cuddling did not seem like brilliant arguing points for her cause.
Ginny was leaning forward, about to ask something else when she was distracted by the tap at Hermione's window. Hermione quickly unlocked the window and let Apollo in, he followed his usual routine and settled himself comfortably in the flat, liver treat already swallowed whole.
"Is that Malfoy's owl?" Ginny asked curiously as she watched the bird settle itself.
"Yes." Hermione said, "He's in France at the moment."
Letter in hand, Hermione flicked at the envelope's opening. It would be rude to open it when her guests had just arrived, wouldn't it?
"Oh gods, woman." Ginny sighed dramatically with a coy smile not fully concealed on her lips, watching Hermione deliberate over the letter for another twenty seconds. "Open it!"
Hermione nodded slowly, attempting to affect an air of casual curiosity, then tore open the small envelope.
Hermione,
I'm sure France is grand, but so far all I've seen is the inside of meeting rooms. Next time I'll bring you with me, and you can drag me to as many muggle museums as you want. I'll probably die of boredom but at least you'll be happy.
I'll be back on Monday, your appointment at St Mungo's is still on Tuesday, correct? If it's moved let me know so I can get out of this country. Preferably move it to tomorrow, I am sick of baguettes and old men talking about the price of dragon eggshells.
You updated me on week eight but what about nine? What fruit is the Speck currently? Muggles have the strangest methods of measuring things.
D.M
Do not ruin that bird, he's incredibly expensive and well trained. I don't want to come back to him as round as a pigeon.
With a glance at Ginny and Harry, both of whom watched her curiously from the sofa but quickly busied themselves in the awaiting muffins when they saw Hermione looking at them. Hermione frowned at them but grabbed a piece of parchment to scribble a note back to Draco.
Draco,
The appointment is on Tuesday. You'll just have to survive until then. I can think of worse things than baguettes to suffer, have you recently tried morning sickness? It will quickly change your perspective.
Hermione grinned at her rushed scribblings. The sly grin on her face uncontrollable as she thought about touring museums with Draco, dragging him to all the great muggle sites. Harry's voice broke through Hermione's daydreams and stopped her quill's scratching.
"She'd giddy," Harry muttered to Ginny, who rolled her eyes at him. "Look at her, she looks like a bloody teenage girl. She didn't even look like that at Hogwarts."
Ginny laughed as Hermione ignored them. She folded the letter away, determined to finish it later without the running commentary from Harry and Ginny. She supposed she should be paying attention to them anyhow; her mother would chide her for neglecting her guests. Although the Potters classified more as furniture than guests in Hermione's flat.
"Actually," Harry said, "she looks like she did when she had a crush on Lockhart."
Hermione's eyes finally snapped up, and she glared at Harry.
"I did not have a crush on Professor Lockhart!" She yipped loudly, scrunching Malfoy's letter in her hand and hiding it behind her back.
"Oh please, everyone had a crush on Lockhart," Ginny said with a grin.
Harry wrinkled his nose at his wife and then turned back to look at Hermione. His bright eyes stared at her curiously from behind those round glasses. Hermione shuffled uncomfortably under his scrutiny.
"Oh, Blimey." He said finally, eyes wide and brow furrowed. "You like him. You like Malfoy."
Hermione gulped,
"I-" She stuttered, "No. I-I'm just… we're friends…"
Hermione was trying, she was really trying to just be friends with Draco. They couldn't be anything else, history and logic told Hermione that anything more would be disastrous. So why did she grin like a damn fool every time she got a letter from him? Why did the mention of him making her happy make Hermione want to burst into tears and throw herself at a man who wasn't even present? Pregnancy be damned, she liked his company, she liked the way he felt touching her, holding her, kissing her.
Harry shook his head.
"Oh, you really like him," Harry whispered, mouth slack and voice aghast. "Come on, Hermione, if I can see it surely you can. I'm frequently told I'm completely oblivious when it comes to romance, but bloody hell, it's written all over your face. You just lit up when you read that letter."
Hermione stared at the letter in her hand. Her mouth opened and closed wildly, trying to think of something. She let out an awkward guffawing laugh, one that should have been followed by a quick and decisive rebuttal of all feelings, yet nothing came out of her mouth. Hermione gulped, and Harry crossed his arms sternly.
"Unless he's just promised to buy you every book in Britain, Hermione Granger, you have feelings for Draco Malfoy."
Hermione tried not to meet Harry's eyes, she glanced at Ginny, who was mirthlessly clutching at her sides and laughing silently at the clueless Golden duo.
Every piece of resolve in Hermione broke, all the walls she'd built over the weeks crumbled as Harry stared at her. Hermione had managed to convince herself she and Draco were just friends, that she only wanted to be friends, but the second Harry bloody Potter had told her she liked Draco she'd been pummelled by the wave of realisation. There was only so much denial one person could heap onto themselves. If Harry could tell how much Draco affected her, then Hermione was in far deeper than she thought.
"I like Draco." Hermione groaned, burying her head in her hands as Ginny roared. "I like him a lot. Like, a lot more than friends."
Ginny wiped her eyes and Harry continued to stare at her.
"Oh, god." Ginny wheezed. "I'm so glad the two of you have caught up. Thank Merlin, Voldemort never tried to seduce his way to power or you two dunderheads never would have saved us."
Merlin, what was she meant to do now?
Hermione paced nervously. Merlin. Bollocks. Twatting idiotic fudge balls. She couldn't do this. She didn't know how to be normal in front of him now. Bollocks.
Hermione paced some more.
She'd managed to finish the short letter she'd penned to Draco on the weekend. 'Finish' might have been a loose term; she'd signed her name to it after dropping and then Evanescoing several ink blots when she couldn't think of anything further to add. She'd tried to be funny, or witty, or anything other than awkward and nervous. How had she suddenly gone from incredibly comfortable in his presence and lighting up when his letters arrived, to practically sweating at the very idea of seeing him?
Now he was late. Hermione continued to pace up and down the hallway of St Mungo's maternity ward, the father of her child, who'd written both Sunday and Monday reminding her that he would be there was already ten minutes late. Hermione was a nervous wreck, she didn't know what she was meant to say when she saw him.
Ginny had informed Hermione that she just needed to come clean, ask Draco on a date and, preferably, shag his brains out. Harry, still dubious of their old school rival, had cautioned her to think about it, did she really want to get into a serious relationship now with a baby on the way. However, he had given her his blessing if she did decide she wanted to be with the Malfoy, and a warning he'd hex Draco if he hurt her.
The problem was, Hermione wasn't sure what she wanted. To shag Draco's brains out, to have him cuddle her and kiss her all day long? Yes, absolutely, she'd dreamed about it continually since Saturday. But the rest of it, a real relationship with compromise and responsibilities and consequences? Hermione didn't know if she could handle that. What if Draco didn't want anything serious? He was affectionate, especially when drunk, but that didn't mean he wanted anything more. Didn't it?
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked up, a young man in healer robes stood at the far end of the waiting room.
"Yes," Hermione said, walking towards him. "That's me."
The healer had a young round face, terribly pointy ears and short black hair. Hermione instinctively looked around for Linda, she'd said she would be Hermione's primary carer. It looked like Draco wasn't the only one missing from her appointment so far.
"I'm Healer Euan Abercrombie." He said, somehow looking less than confident about his own name. "Healer Andrews- Linda that is, she's been delayed with another birth. Do you mind if I start your ultrasound without her?"
Hermione bit the inside of her lip. Healer Abercrombie was young, and although Hermione refused to judge a person's professional capabilities on their age, nothing about the man was comforting. It made Hermione miss Linda's warm personality all the more, even when Hermione had been receiving shocking news Linda had made her feel cared for. She'd already reconciled herself that if Draco hadn't shown up, at least she'd had the kindly healer with her. Now it seemed Hermione was on her own, or on her own with Healer Abercrombie. Personally, Hermione thought she might actually feel better on her own than with the man staring at her rather peculiarly.
"It's fine." Hermione nodded.
It was just an ultrasound; she would survive one appointment without Linda and Draco.
Healer Abercrombie was quiet as he ushered Hermione in the room. It looked no different from the last time she'd been there, crowded with informational pamphlets and health orientated posters but still clinical and white.
They went through some basic questions, mostly about Hermione's symptoms. All of which she was informed were normal and to be expected. Despite the professional discussion and aloof tone Abercrombie adopted Hermione couldn't help but feel he was somewhat anxious. His overly large ears twitched every time she spoke, and he stared over her head at the blank wall behind her head. Hermione tried to ignore it, some people simply didn't like eye contact, she reminded herself. It didn't mean he was uncomfortable with her in particular.
"If you could lie back and lift your shirt." Healer Abercrombie asked when they reached the conclusion of his questions.
Hermione did as she was told, shifting herself on the examination table to get comfortable. Abercrombie's hand shook as he pressed his wand against her exposed skin. The ultrasound, flickering into existence in the air above them trembled along with his hand. Hermione squinted at the image, trying to recognise anything from all the reading she'd done. Perhaps she'd need to invest in some more medical style books, the grey static still meant nothing to her.
"Did you go to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, trying to make this whole experience a little less awkward. The young healer tried to smile, one side of his mouth pulling back nervously.
"Yes, briefly." He said, "I was a few years younger than you. I started Hogwarts in '95 but only spent two years there."
He paused,
"My parents moved us to France, so I could go to Beauxbaton after…"
Hermione nodded; a lot of people hadn't returned with the war. Only a few made it out of Britain before Voldemort enforced mandatory attendance laws for Hogwarts students. Hermione tried to steer the question away from Hogwarts and the war as the young man's hand wobbled more.
"They sound like good parents." She said.
"Yes." He said, "My father died in the war, he came to Britain, and well, he never came back."
"I'm sorry."
So much for getting further away from his source of pain, Hermione had basically thrown it in his face. Hermione, even after the numerous years of functions and memorials, still didn't know how to comfort people about their losses. She still struggled some days with her own, there were too many people to grieve.
"I hardly think you of all people should be sorry, Miss Granger," Abercrombie said quietly, staring at his wand. "Without you… anyway, thank you."
Hermione opened her mouth, but Healer Abercrombie pointed to the ultrasound.
"That's a heartbeat right there."
Hermione stared at it. The gentle flickering of the black and grey, a tiny heartbeat was pounding solidly in the air: the Speck, her speck.
Hi Speck, Hermione thought, I'm your mum.
The door creaked, distracting Hermione from the soft sound.
"Hello." Linda poked her head into the room with a smile, "Sorry I'm late Miss Granger."
"It's not a problem." Hermione smiled at the healer, already her warm face lightening the atmosphere of the room.
Linda stepped into the room and gestured behind her,
"Look who I found in the corridor."
Black cloaked and blonde hair messed atop his head; the sight of Draco almost took Hermione's breath away. She'd missed him, more than she wanted to admit. She wanted to kiss him the moment he smiled at her from across the now crowded room.
"Hi." He said, crossing to her. "Sorry I'm late, an issue with the Port Key office."
"It's alright." Hermione smiled, "You're here now."
It only took him two strides to cross the room and reach for her. Draco's hand found hers, warm and strong as it engulfed her own. Hermione could feel her skin heating, a ball of sweat beaded on the back of her neck and she looked at Draco nervously.
I like you more than a friend! She wanted to schout, to just get it out and admit she was a damn fool. Weeks of posturing and demanding distance when all she wanted now was for those soft pink lips to lean down and capture her own.
"Is that my Speck?" He asked, looking up at the image.
Healer Abercrombie flinched back as Draco pulled a chair towards himself, sitting next to Hermione. Abercrombie stared at Draco, his jaw clenched and the gentle smile he'd given Hermione gone now. He flicked his wand and yanked the solidified image as he shoved it towards Hermione. The paperwork he had been recording Hermione's answers on clattered to the desk loudly.
"Congratulations." He muttered to her before turning to Linda, voice tight and strained. "Ultrasounds fine, everything is normal."
Linda looked caught aback. She nodded curtly and frowned at Abercrombie pushed past her and left the room. The door closed with a loud click behind him. Linda cleared her throat as she turned to Hermione and Draco.
"How are you feeling, Hermione?" She said, smiling and taking the file from the desk. "It says you've been experiencing some morning sickness?"
Morning sickness was currently the last of her concerns, her stomach was doing backflips at Draco's presence. Merlin, how had she thought she only wanted to be friends, being in his presence without touching him set her heart racing, and her tongue felt as if it had stuck itself to the roof of her mouth.
Hermione nodded at Linda, handing the ultrasound to Draco as she righted her top and sat up properly. She had to try and ignore the volts that run under her skin as he brushed his thumb against her hand.
"Yes, most mornings but Healer Abercrombie said that was quite normal for the first trimester," Hermione said awkwardly.
Linda nodded,
"Certainly, but please contact me if you feel it gets worse or unmanageable."
Linda went over most of the same questions, but Hermione answered almost robotically, already having received similar responses from Abercrombie. Draco listened raptly, his thumb circling on the skin of Hermione's hand gently. He didn't even seem bothered when a pamphlet shot out of the shelves and bumped him on the cheek.
"I just need a moment to check on something," Linda said a while later. "Then if you don't mind too much, Hermione, I might take another look at your ultrasound."
Hermione nodded, not minding at all if she got another look at the Speck. It had been abruptly cut short with Abercrombie, and she'd barely had the chance to look at the image before it was gone.
As the door closed behind Linda, the room grew exponentially smaller. She was now alone with Draco, and as he lifted her hand, he kissed it gently.
"I'm sorry about being late." He said again.
Hermione smiled at him, heart pounding at the touch. She'd missed him, she'd missed his presence and his warm almost painfully. Was this normal? Surely this kind of overwhelming want was unhealthy?
"It's fine," Hermione said, trying to smile but feeling her lips pull tight at the corners.
"Are you sure?" Draco frowned and scanned her face, "You look…"
"Oh, I'm fine." Hermione tried waving her hand nonchalantly in the air and almost hit herself in the face.
Draco's frown became bemused, and Hermione twittered nervously. Gods, she'd turned into a madwoman.
"I missed you," Draco said, rubbing another circle on her hand.
"I-uh," Hermione gulped, almost blurting out a rather inappropriate anatomical part she had missed about him. She desperately searched her brain for a more appropriate response. "Apollo, uh, he's a good bird."
Draco arched an eyebrow, and honestly, Hermione almost did the same. Did she really just respond to 'I miss you' with 'I like your bird'.
Draco stood up, leaning against the examination table she sat at and looked at her in concern. Clearly her attempts at being calm and collected had gone out of the window. Hermione sighed and stared at her hands. No, actually, staring at her hands meant staring at his and that wasn't helping her desperate need for composure. You are a smart witch, Hermione Jean Granger, sort your blood feelings out!
"Are you sure everything is alright, Hermione?" Draco asked softly. He reached up and tucked a loose curl that had escaped its bonds.
Hermione looked up, startled by how soft and gentle his voice was. How was it that he had been so incredibly compassionate throughout all of this mess?
"You didn't respond to my last couple of letters." Draco probed again.
Hermione realised she'd just been frowning at him instead of answering.
"Sorry," She mumbled, "I've been busy, you know, working and things. Lots of… things."
Fantasising about you. Thinking about how much of an idiot I am. Wondering what you could do with those hands. Hermione shook herself, she was getting sidetracked.
"Right." Draco frowned, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably.
She was being awkward, and she knew it. She just didn't know how to make it stop. This was new territory for her. Keeping Draco at a distance had been like second nature, she'd been trying to ignore the boy for years, but now, as a man, when she wanted to get closer to him, she was nothing more than a blabbering idiot.
She needed to do something, say something. Hermione was still frowning at Draco for what had now been an uncomfortable number of minutes.
"France." She said too loudly, "uh, it was good. France that is?"
Draco nodded slowly, still frowning back at her.
"It was fine. I would have rather been here."
Hermione nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically.
"Right." She muttered "because of the boardrooms."
"I suppose."
Hermione licked her lips nervously; her voice was too high pitched and she tried smiling, but it was painful and tight. Brilliant, she thought, not looking like a crazy person at all there, Hermione.
"I miss you." Hermione blurted then, realising she hadn't said it earlier. "Missed, I mean. I missed you. Because you're here now. So missed, in the past. Past tense."
Good work, hyper-fixation on tense will make you seem less weird. Draco's eyebrow quirked, and she couldn't tell if he thought her ramblings amusing or if he was just wondering if she'd lost her mind entirely.
"I missed you, too." He said finally, the deep purr of his voice making Hermione's insides quiver.
Hermione couldn't help it, she stared at his lips as he smirked at her. She knew exactly what they felt like on hers, even if it had been almost a month since they'd last kissed. Gods, had it already been that long?
She hadn't had sex since then, obviously, and her hand just never seemed to make her toes curl the way Draco could. She could get herself to the cusp of the orgasm, but each time it seemed to fall flat, barely a simmer compared to the boiling pleasure of having Draco's length push up inside her.
Hermione squeezed her thighs as she thought about it. A heightened libido could be a symptom during pregnancy, and Hermione had honestly been hoping to be one of those women who it seemed to skip by, but from the desire than pooled in her now, she was most certainly not in luck. Draco cocked his head to the side, looking at her curiously but Hermione could only stare at the lean muscles of his neck. What she wouldn't do to be able to get her lips on his pressure point, she'd leave him marked and claimed as her own.
"Draco," Hermione breathed, her voice weak and needy even to her own ears.
Before she could continue, the door opened again, making Hermione jump and half topple off the examination table.
"Sorry," Linda said, entering with a smile. "I didn't mean to take so long."
"It's not a problem." Hermione squeaked, while Draco re-seated himself.
"I've got the results of your bloodwork, and everything looks good." Linda smiled. "Did you want to retake a look at that ultrasound?"
Hermione looked nervously at Draco and then Linda. Draco looked at her and smiled, one of the soft genuine smiles that make her want to kiss him all over again.
"I," Hermione had to look away, she had been hoping that seeing Draco again after his trip would dampen her feelings. Hermione had hoped she had built it all up in her head, the way he looked at her, and that she'd been able to get a hold of her affections. It appeared to be a foolish errand now, seeing him had only made it worse. "I think, actually, I need to go."
What she needed was to think about how she was going to tell Draco she wanted to be more than friends with him. Could she even do that? She'd been quite firm about nothing getting into anything with him for the past month. What if he didn't want to be anything more than friends?
Hermione bit her lip, avoiding eye contact with Draco.
"Healer Abercrombie said everything looked fine, right?"
"Ah, yes," Linda said, clearly trying to wipe the confused look from her face and present a professional outlook.
"Good, great," Hermione said, resting one hand protectively on her stomach. "I'll see you for the thirteen-week check-up?"
"Yes, of course." Linda said, "If there is anything before then if you have any questions, please feel free to contact me."
"Thank you," Hermione said, already trying to skirt out of the room.
She knew Draco was frowning, it was like his irritated gaze burned down she spine as she shuffled out of the room. He followed, and Hermione fiddled nervously with her bag as she walked towards the elevator.
"Hermione." Draco snapped, catching up to her at the elevator doors.
"Yes." She said, trying to stare at the elevator doors and not in his grey eyes in case she told him they were liked falling into a blinding star.
The elevator door dinged, and they both stepped into the empty box. As the doors closed again, Draco touched her arm.
"Hermione." He said, this time firmer like he was no longer amused by her awkward ramblings. "Seriously, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." Hermione sighed. "I just have a lot on my mind, Draco."
If they were together, would they last? Communication may be an issue, although Hermione was perfectly aware that it was her fault currently. They had a bad history, what if all the sexual attraction fell away and they were the same old arguing rivals?
It would end poorly, and there would be a child in the mix this time. There would be no quick, easy split. At least with Ron, Hermione had simply dumped all his remaining belongings and left them at Harry's house with a note for Ron to collect them. She'd been tempted to burn the lot, all the things he hadn't taken himself when he'd left with Lavender.
She couldn't very well dump a child in a box if she and Draco didn't work. They wouldn't even be able to cease contact when it all ended terribly.
Hermione rubbed a hand across her face.
"Sorry." She mumbled, "I'm just busy right now."
Draco nodded, his face going cold as she pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. He stood straight and stiffly as the elevator descended slowly.
"You should probably get out first," Hermione said quietly. "In case anyone sees us."
"Of course," said Draco. "We wouldn't want that."
The press was just another complication. Hermione doubted all the galleons in the Malfoy vaults could keep the Prophet from publicising their relationship should they have one. Their split would be even worse, everything dredged up for the world to dissect.
The elevator doors dinged, interrupting their painful silence. Draco glanced at Hermione once, his face pinched and brow furrowed deeply, then swept gracefully out the doors. Hermione leant against the cool metal, resting her head in her hands.
Clearly, Draco was angry at her, but how could she explain to him that while her feelings had changed that they were too complicated, too doomed to even consider.
Hermione lay on her sofa, trying not to cry.
She'd ridden the elevator of St Mungo's for a while before finally making her way home. She was miserable. She hadn't meant to be awkward; she hadn't meant for it to come off as cold.
Apollo was gone, returned to his owner, and the flat felt emptier than it had in years. She missed Crookshanks, he had been her constant companion for so long it still ached some evenings when she was alone.
When she'd arrived back at the flat Hermione had been met with two tiny soft knitted blankets and an envelope. The blankets where finely knitted, with incredibly soft wool that matched the booties. One a pale green and the other a delightful yellow, Hermione wondered if Misty already knew the sex of the baby, much like she'd known of the pregnancy before she should have, and was purposefully trying to avoid the typical gendered colours. Hermione paused as she placed the blankets with the ever-growing pile of knitted clothing atop her dresser; they were all soft shades of green, yellow, purple or white.
It could be a coincidence, Hermione wasn't even sure if Pureblood family used the same pink and blue colour schemes for the different sexes as muggles did. It was something she added to the ever-growing list of questions she never seemed to get around to asking Draco.
Hermione picked up the envelope that had come with the blankets. Draco's neat writing curled across the front.
Hermione,
At this point, I'm not sure if I have done something to upset you or if you are genuinely just busy. I think the former, however. Although you haven't replied to my letters since Saturday, I thought written correspondence might be preferable to me bothering you again today.
I am aware that this has been a less than ideal situation, you never intended to shackle yourself with me, and it would be unfair for me to force you into my presence. If I have overstepped and made you uncomfortable, then I apologise.
If you are simply preoccupied with your work, then you are at liberty to rip this letter into as many pieces as you wish, however, Misty forced me to write something so that she could present these blankets to you and I do want to know if you are alright.
D.M.
Hermione ground her palms into her face, not sure if she should cry or laugh. Not want him in her presence… that's all she wanted but how could it ever work. Hermione tried to put the letter aside and turned on the television to distract herself.
It didn't work. Hermione uncrumpled the letter and re-read it. Overstepped. Draco hadn't overstepped, possibly a little at the bar but she hadn't exactly been innocent in that. Everything that he had written to her and his presence at St Mungo's had only been comforting. Yet she was still scared to let him in. It would hurt too much if Draco really was the kind man he presented himself to be, to lose him when they inevitably broke up.
Hermione paced around the living room, one hand on her stomach while she muttered to herself. She went in circles, trying to work out what she could say to Draco to reassure him that he had done nothing wrong and it was she who had a problem.
Hermione sighed. She needed some advice.
It was dark outside as she tossed the floo powder into her fireplace and stepped through to a place she knew someone would be able to give her the painful, undiluted truth.
Hermione entered the Potter's sitting room to find it dim, with only the light of the television illuminating the couch where Ginny sat curled in a blanket.
"Hermione." Ginny said in surprise, biscuit crumbles tumbling out of her mouth, "What's going on?"
Hermione's chin trembled; tears built at her eyes but she swiped them away angrily. She was sick to death of crying.
"I think I bollocksed everything up with Draco." She mumbled, one repugnant tear rolling defiantly down her cheek.
"Oh," Ginny said sympathetically. "Come here."
Ginny held out both arms, inviting Hermione in for a hug which she longed for terribly. Hermione folded herself onto the couch, tucking her head under Ginny's chin and cuddling into her redheaded friend.
"Here," Ginny mumbled, shoving something crinkly and loud under Hermione's nose. "Have a biscuit and tell me what happened."
Ok, so before you all yell at me... I know Hermione is being a bit of a prat right now but we'll go most into it in the next chapter, I promise.
Thank you everyone who had left review or fav so far, you guys are amazing and reading all the responses makes my heart very happy!
Until chapter 10,
Nif.