Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the creator of the HP universe and its characters. I do not own anything except the rather strange plot bunny, and I solely profit in reviews.
Years Ago From Now: Chapter Twelve
To Hermione's surprise, Lucius didn't attend breakfast that morning. To her even greater surprise was the disappointment this caused her to feel after her nervousness in the bedroom before coming down where she was praying that he wouldn't show up. Instead, Boden appeared in the dining room to tell her that the master of the house was going to be out for most of the day. Hermione had nodded and dismissed the elf, wondering why Lucius had cancelled.
Did he have business? Had the Dark Lord called him? Was he simply trying to give her space? The answer could be any or perhaps all three. Her emotions were all over the place, as was the child inside of her.
Draco had been kicking up a storm, and she found herself gently trying to rub her stomach where she was sure a foot was pressing persistently against her. It was more irksome than painful, and she found herself talking out loud to the baby as she reclined on what was becoming her chaise lounge in the library. She pulled up her shirt to just under her breasts, stroking the skin their languidly while the sun shone in on her face.
"I don't quite know what to think about you, Draco. On the one hand, I know how you treated me, and I have all of these assumptions about you that I previously would have believed to be fact. On the other hand, now I know that a Malfoy is capable of living under a persona with no one the wiser… which will you be?" she muttered, stroking the foot. It moved away, fluttering across her abdomen in a way that felt almost like a tickle. The sensation brought a smile to her face, and she closed her eyes, looking toward the ceiling. She was quite for a few minutes, relishing the sunlight shining in to where she sat. She didn't hear her husband's entrance into the room.
"I know how I would choose to raise my child. I would want him to be kind to everyone…above everything. While I would want him to be intelligent, it doesn't matter a whit how smart he is if he's cruel. I'd rather him be as dumb as a box of rocks than cruel. Gods, I hope it is a façade. Still, knowing that I will be raising someone that will treat me as you did is hard. Not to mention how… distant Narcissa seemed to be with you when the situation wasn't dire," she said, trailing her fingertips along the skin. "Did my distance make you that way?"
She heard a throat clear and opened her eyes, snapping her attention toward the doorway. Lucius was halfway between the door and her, and he finished covering the space quickly, kneeling down next to her.
Hermione went to cover her stomach, blushing thoroughly, but Lucius put a hand on hers. "I… Is he moving?"
Hermione whispered her reply. "Yes."
"May I feel?" he asked. She could see him try to control the pleading look in his eyes, and she found herself nodding.
His hand left hers, and with delicate touch, his hand moved over her taut stomach, waiting for a movement. She put her hand over his, guiding it to her right side underneath her belly button, where the baby had last kicked.
They were silent as they waited, until finally, they felt the kick on their gathered hands. She couldn't see his expression, and to be honest, she wasn't sure she should. It would change something, acknowledging this intimacy between them and their child-to-be.
When the baby seemed to still, he removed his hand. He kept his position next to her seat, though.
"I was raised to believe that fathers had little to do with their children. Fathers were the authoritarian presence in the household and the ones to share the family traditions and beliefs. They provided money and structure but little else. It… I thought it would be that way for me, too. Until Narcissa lost the first pregnancy," he said, quietly, looking not quite at her.
Hermione now knew the truth. Narcissa had not lost her children. She had purposefully ended them, solely to get out of a marriage and spite her husband. She knew Lucius suspected as much, but it seemed wrong to confirm it for him. She would leave him to his assumptions and nothing more.
"When she told me that the baby was gone, I was surprised how much it hurt. I locked myself away for days in my study, drinking myself into a stupor and trying to figure out why it bothered me so much. I… came to understand though…." His voice cracked a bit as he continued, and his eyes finally met hers. "I realized that, along with the child itself, I had lost the opportunity to be a father on my own terms. To be better than my father was to me. I decided then that if we were to have a child, I would be the kind of father I wanted to be."
Hermione was quiet, and he stood up quickly before gesturing her to move her legs over, sitting near her knees on the chaise.
"Do you know the Weasley family by chance?" he asked, a thoughtful look coming over his face.
Hermione nodded, slowly. Oh yes, I know them. Very well.
"Arthur Weasley was in my year at school. We, as most Malfoy and Weasleys before us, hated each other almost from first sight. We met at Ollivander's, there to get our first wands at the same time. My father and his, Septimus, had words and I am sure both of our fathers warned us away from the other after that encounter. The first year of Hogwarts was great for me, but I heard that Arthur struggled with homesickness. I teased him about it a lot. He called me a spoiled prince. At the end of the first year, we rode the train back to King's Cross. I was, of course, horrible to Arthur as we were getting off of the train, teasing him for being unable to cope without his parents there to baby him. Loudly joking how happy he must be to be able to return to hide behind his mother's apron strings."
He paused for a moment, and Hermione could see him recreating the scene in his eyes.
"I looked everywhere for my father when I got off of the train. I finally realized he had neglected to come get me. I was so embarrassed, watching as the station cleared out. It ended up being just me… and the Weasleys. Septimus and Cedrella were there with Arthur and their older son, Billius. I had no idea why they were still there. They were talking near the floo entrance, though I saw Arthur occasionally saying something to his father and glaring at me. Finally, my father came through the floo."
"He looked down his nose at Septimus as he walked toward me and told me to hurry along, or he'd be late to Gringotts," Lucius said, starting to look a bit angry. "No apology. No welcome back. Nothing except for how I was already inconveniencing him… As I struggled to pull the trunk my father couldn't even be bothered to help me with toward the Weasleys to go through the floo, I heard Septimus talking to Arthur quietly enough I think he assumed I couldn't hear him. He said, 'Now we can go. And remember, Arthur, sometimes people hide their own pain by focusing on that of others. You have a home and people to miss, people that miss you and love you in return. Not everyone is so rich as that."
They were both silent for several minutes as Hermione absorbed the information.
"Do you and Arthur still hate each other?" she asked, quietly.
Lucius smirked, trying to cover the sadness in his eyes. "Oh yes. He is quite annoying with his love of all things muggle. I bet Cedrella just loves that. He's also just too friendly. It puts me off entirely. But… but I never made fun of him for being homesick again. And he hasn't called me spoiled since. His father cared more for me that day than my own did. I sent an anonymous donation to cover Septimus's funeral cost a few years ago."
Hermione nodded, understanding a bit more about how Arthur became the father he was from that influence in his life. Septimus sounded like a good man.
Lucius cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. "In public, I realize that our son will have to live with that façade to an extent. I feel like putting the pressure of spy games and hidden lives is too much for him, at least until he is of age, but I know we will have to keep up outward appearances. In the privacy of our home, though… he will be loved. He will know he is loved. He will never feel like I did that day. Can you agree to that?"
Hermione nodded, feeling a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
Lucius took a deep breath. "I… I do not wish for him to have too much pressure on him. Until he is old enough to understand why we have to keep our personal beliefs private, he will believe we truly are bigots. He might even agree with us. Then, as he becomes able, we will reveal what truths we can. Your… your identity will have to be a secret until it is all over though. I don't want him to have to deal with the knowledge that he is purposefully hurting his own mother. Until he can understand that he was meant to and it is safe, he cannot know of it."
Hermione nodded again, resolutely. She could understand that reasoning. And she knew what Draco would have to see. To see a classmate tortured and be unable to help is one thing… to know it is your mother…. She wouldn't do that to him.
"We will love him," Lucius said, again, looking into her eyes.
"We will," she responded. It seemed almost natural when he leaned into her, pressing his lips against hers as if to seal their promise to each other with a kiss. His hand rested against her stomach as he kissed her, and Hermione didn't allow herself to think of how strange it was that her hands happily wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to her still.
He pulled back when the need to breathe freely became too much, looking at her with adoration in his eyes. "I am so happy it is you," he whispered.
Hermione looked away with a blush, feeling him stand up and his hand leave her exposed stomach.
"See you at dinner," he muttered, making his way out of the room.
It was two weeks later that they found themselves, once more, at the dinner table. They ate their meal while both thinking of the situation that they found themselves in. Hermione was thinking in particular about how, in just four and a half weeks, she was due to give birth.
Half of her was very frustrated that she didn't know Draco's birthday. If she did, she could mentally prepare for it. The other half thought that was ridiculous. One could not prepare for the moment she delivered her schoolyard bully into the world. And, she would probably only stress over it if she did know the date. Draco's birth was like the Sword of Damocles, hung perilously over her head, waiting to fall upon her should she begin to relax.
She knew she had withstood pain before; that part didn't particularly bother her. It was more the intimacy of giving birth and becoming a mother that worried her. Would she be able to love him? Logically, based on what she knew of her future Malfoy self, the answer was yes. But would she have to grow to love him? She suspected so. It was simply too strange to thing otherwise. Imagining herself looking down into his pointed nose and angled face, nothing at all like her own… not much like Lucius, come to think of it. She imagined him coming out with that awful slicked back hair he had worn in their early Hogwarts years and felt herself gag slightly.
"You look…. perturbed," a voice said, startling her from her strange thoughts. She looked up to Lucius, seeing him smirk.
"Just thinking of the future," she said.
"The parts you know about?" he questioned.
She shrugged. "Sort of. Just over a month until Draco arrives," she said, distractedly.
His knife, which had been cutting a piece of meat, stopped abruptly, causing her to raise an eyebrow.
"Draco?" he asked, eagerly.
She felt guilty for a moment. She had hoped he would come up with it or that she could at least wait until the baby had arrived for him to learn it. "I'm sorry," she said.
He shook his head. "It makes sense, I suppose. I actually promised that, to honor the Black family, our first born would be named after a constellation. I have always found dragons to be rather fascinating creatures. Serpentine, yet capable of flight. Parselmouths can communicate with them," he said.
"That's a myth," she said.
"The Dark Lord says it is true," he countered, as if that was the end all. The idea that this was something the Dark Lord couldn't lie about was amusing.
Hermione snorted, "My best friend is a parselmouth. There are several instances that he could have greatly used speaking to them to his advantage. Trust me."
Lucius thought for a moment before nodding his head in agreement, "Yes, well, I suppose it wouldn't be the first time the Dark Lord has lied to impress his followers."
As usual, Lucius walked with her up the stairs after dinner, stopping at her door. Hermione was reaching for the knob when he said her name.
"Narcissa?"
She turned in response, smiling politely.
"I want to kiss you," he said, candidly. Hermione felt her eyes widen and her cheeks flush, but she said nothing.
"I… we have kissed before, of course. Not all that much, mind you, but we have. I… I guess I want you to know that I find myself almost always wanting to kiss you, and I have been coming up with excuses to do it. I just don't want to have to wait for a specific moment where it seems appropriate. I want to kiss you because you are beautiful, and…more than that, I like you. Right now, with your hair loose and your eyes sparkling and your cheeks flushed. Will you let me kiss you? Now? Without a particular reason other than the fact that I would love it?"
Listening to his monologue, Hermione had felt her cheeks warm even more, and her toes were tingling. She had always known he was a smooth talker, but… this blunt sweetness was something she thought she might never tire of. In response, she took a half step closer to him, leaving their noses only inches apart.
He needed no more encouragement than that, closing the space between them with an arm that wrapped snuggly around her waist as his lips met hers.
They had been growing steadily closer to each other, and Lily had been encouraging her to start, at least, treating him as a she would a boyfriend. After all, the redhead had written, who should you be closest to? I think you should put the final nail in the coffin and give him the full truth. I'd like to meet him if he is as you say.
She heard the tiny whine that escaped her lips as his tongue darted out to touch her lips, and he must have heard it as well. He walked her back two short steps to lean against the door frame, his other hand coming to brace against the door as he leaned slightly over her rounded stomach.
Her hands came up to grip the lapels of his robe, pulling him over more as her own tongue reached out to his. This only encouraged him to slide his hand around to her side, fingers slightly fumbling as they fiddled with the zipper to her dress. It was feeling the first give of the zipper that had them break away from each other, realizing they weren't ready for that yet.
"I apologize," he breathed out, voice husky.
She shook her head, "Unnecessary."
They stared at each other for several moments, contemplating their progressively heated exchanges.
"This is confusing," she said, finally.
He raised an eyebrow in askance.
She shook her head, feeling her heartbeat start to return to normal.
"What I mean is… I am your wife. You have… seen me naked. Maybe not at eight months pregnant, but you have… you've seen my body and done so much more than that to it," she said quietly, struggling not to look away. "Yet, I know nothing of you more than a few kisses and when we... get to that point, I want it to be not… like this. Narcissa is so much more beautiful than I ever was, but I… want her to be… I don't want the added awkwardness I feel would be there with me being this… shape."
Lucius chuckled, leaning in to kiss her next to the corner of your mouth. "Narcissa is beautiful, but I think it should be noted that I never had sex with her out of any kind of affection or even for fun. I want you because you are you more than I want you because you are a new her, if that makes sense."
Hermione looked down and away from him, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he continued.
"I agree that this isn't the right time, though. While we are technically married, we are not mentally that close. At most, I am your rather overeager boyfriend," he said softly.
She felt him reach behind her again, opening her door and swinging it open as he leaned close to her ear.
"One day, though," he purred in her ear, "you'll invite me into this bedroom of yours, and I will make it ours. Deal?"
If she had been blushing before, it was nothing compared to that moment. She nodded hurriedly, turning into the room and going in, shutting the door behind her.
Author's Note: As always, thank you for your reviews. I am currently in the middle of writing Chapter 26, and I am practicing patience. It is very easy to write the scenes that I am eager for and to neglect the little ones that are necessary or would be strange not to acknowledge. After Harry is orphaned and Lucius is found not guilty, there will be a bit of jumping around before things steady out again.
Please share your thoughts!