Two weeks later
Hermione felt something touching her neck. Too sleepy to open her eyes, she twisted her head from side to side.
"You could've broken my nose doing that" Draco's voice slid through her ear, pulling her away from her sleep.
She half-opened her eyes and looked around. Her eyes fell on a pair of familiar silver eyes smiling at her. She closed her eyes again, assuming she was still dreaming and reveling in the idea of having a dream rather than the nightmares that usually haunted her. She felt a hand splayed over her belly.
"Wake up" Draco murmured.
Hermione's hand curved over Draco's, she slowly turned her back to him and covered her head with the blanket. "I refuse to wake up when it's still dark outside" she mumbled.
"It's actually sunny outside" Draco contradicted.
"It's dark inside the blanket" Hermione insisted, refusing to give up the comfort of her bed.
Draco pulled the blanket off Hermione's head. "I'm hungry" he whined, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"So am I, but I have my priorities sorted out" Hermione said, reluctantly opening her eyes and sitting up in bed.
Hermione's eyes widened at her reflection in the mirror. She instantly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame it. Hearing Draco chuckle next to her, she narrowed her eyes on him.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" Hermione asked.
"Yes..but I have my priorities sorted out" Draco replied, "I have more important things to do."
"What things?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Get dressed and I'll tell you over breakfast." Draco answered.
"Where are we going?" Hermione raised her eyebrow at Draco.
"You'd know if you stopped procrastinating and got out of bed" Draco pursued and without allowing Hermione any further arguments, he walked out of the door. "Don't really take your time" she heard him say over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.
Hermione got out of bed lazily. Her curiosity to find out about the things Draco was talking about overcame her desire to stay in bed forever. The moment her feet touched the floor, Hermione felt an urgent need to rush to the bathroom. After an unwanted session of nausea, she started getting dressed. It was only when she finally settled on a dress to wear that she noticed a rectangular box lying on a chair next to her bed.
"Wear this" was written in Draco's elegant handwriting on a card on top of the box. Hermione held up the card, frowning at the authoritative tone the brief remark held. She flipped the card carelessly between her fingers, smiling briefly when she found a "Please" scrawled on the back of it. She opened the box to find a pair of icy blue jeans, a white shirt with three-quarter lace sleeves and a navy blue jacket.
Although unable to understand the reason behind muggle clothes, Hermione got dressed. She combed her hair and braided it hastily before heading downstairs.
Draco was moving around the kitchen with difficulty. Despite growing up in this house, he could count the rare occasions on which he visited the kitchen. He took out a flask filled with thick golden liquid. Liquid Luck, he smirked at the cliched name. He tapped his wand at a jug filled with orange juice and watched as it poured its contents into the two glasses in front of Draco.
When the cups were filled, he poured half the contents of the flask into one glass then poured the rest of the potion into the other glass. Years of practicing and eventually mastering Felix Felicis potion allowed Draco the luxury of having luck on his side when needed. This time, though, he didn't need luck as a helping factor. This time, luck was the only thing Draco had. He didn't have a plan, and even if he had one, he couldn't guarantee its success. He took the glasses and went to the hall, waiting for Hermione to come down.
"I have a bloody perfect taste" Draco boasted smugly as he watched Hermione descend the stairs minutes later.
"Where did you get these clothes from?" Hermione asked curiously.
"From a place that sold them" Draco answered vaguely.
"I don't think anywhere in the wizarding part of London sells muggle clothes" Hermione argued.
"Some places actually do. And I never said I bought it from the wizarding part of London" Draco replied, "Let's go".
"I thought you said we were having breakfast" Hermione had a puzzled frown on her face.
"We are, but not here." Draco said.
"These clothes aren't enough to keep me warm. So unless you plan on freezing me to death, I have to put on something else before we go" Hermione pointed out, "Same goes to you" she added after noticing Draco's clothes. He was wearing a pair of beige trousers and a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
"What are you wearing?" Hermione tilted her head in confusion, taking in Draco's attire.
"Clothes" Draco shrugged indifferently.
"Muggle clothes" Hermione corrected, "Why are you wearing them?"
"I told you I'll explain over breakfast" Draco said impatiently, "Drink this" he ordered.
Hermione eyed the glass avidly. Later she could scowl at Draco for as much as she liked for being bossy, but now she craved the contents of the glass he was offering.
Draining his own glass, Draco closed the distance between them and took hold of Hermione's hand. He nearly threw the glasses carelessly on the nearest table then pulled her closer, his hand resting at the small of her back. He mumbled something that Hermione couldn't hear and before she could ask him to clear it up, she felt pressure being applied to every cell of her body. She closed her eyes and clutched Draco's arm tightly. The pressure was too strong that for a moment Hermione feared she and Draco would become one.
Minutes later, Hermione was once more standing on solid ground. It took her a moment to regain her balance.
"Are you okay?" Draco asked.
Hermione nodded her head in response. Her eyes scanned their surroundings for a moment. She wasn't feeling the chill she had expected. It was unusually sunny and warm for London. They were standing in a narrow street and as Draco guided her to the main street, Hermione realized they weren't in London anymore. A cool breeze fanned across her face. At the end of the street, the sea dominated the scene.
"Adelaide?" Hermione whispered, "Why are we here?" she looked at Draco in confusion.
"Let's have breakfast first, I'm starving" Draco dismissed her question. He grabbed her hand and urged her forward.
Hermione wanted to ask where they were going but her eyes were hooked onto her parents' house. A house she had spent weeks hovering around, trying to catch a glimpse of them. She didn't know why Draco had brought her here. She even knew that had he suggested the idea earlier she would've instantly panicked. But for some reason over her head, Hermione had a good feeling about being there.
Draco seemed to be heading towards a cafe opposite to Hermione's parents' house. She followed him silently as they sat at one of the outdoor tables. A waitress with a wide smile made her way to their table.
"Good morning" the waitress beamed at Draco.
"Good morning" Draco smiled back briefly at the girl, "Tell me, what's the best thing you serve here?" he asked, too lazy and too hungry to check the menu just placed in front of him.
"Everything we serve here is the best, sir" the waitress replied politely.
"Yes that's what you're supposed to tell everybody. But seriously, what's the best?" Draco pursued.
Giggling, the waitress tucked her hair behind her ear. "Well..I'd personally recommend the cheesy french toa.." she began to say.
"I'll have Eggs Benedict with Salmon, please." Hermione interjected with a smile she struggled to keep as genuine as possible.
"Two then" Draco said, dismissing the baffled waitress.
"Is everything alright?" Draco asked, studying Hermione's face intently.
"Yes" Hermione replied, confirming her reply with a curt nod.
"You sounded...mad." Draco took his time to find a suitable word, "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
"I'm fine" Hermione insisted, "Pregnancy cocks up your mood, that's it."
"It's too early to blame pregnancy for everything, you know" Draco smirked at Hermione.
"So tell me why are we here?" Hermione changed the subject, refusing to discuss why she sounded mad, not with Draco and not even with herself.
"You said you wanted to see your parents" Draco replied simply.
"Draco I don't want them to have their memories back" Hermione's statement almost sounded like a plead.
"Why not?" Draco wondered.
"First of all, it would put them in danger. What if you-know-who found out about them? They're muggles, neither your blood status nor your Death Eater status can keep them safe" Hermione answered, "And second of all..I don't want them to know about everything that's been going around in my life. They knew a different version of me. I don't want them to know about..about.." Hermione's voice trailed off.
Draco was about to say something when the waitress arrived with their breakfast. She placed the plates in front of them and said something neither of them paid attention to.
"Me.." Draco said when the waitress walked away, "You don't want to explain me to your parents".
"That's not true!" Hermione replied defensively. "I mean...of course I'll have to be extremely creative to explain how my childhood antagonist magically transformed into...into this!" She waved her hand in the air in frustration at not finding a proper title for Draco's presence in her life. "But it's not you I'm worried about. Mostly, I'm worried because my parents will always be my overprotective parents. If I explained to them the situation in the wizarding world I don't know how they would react but I'm positive it won't be good for any of us" she explained. "It's safer for both of us that way."
"What exactly is this?" Draco asked thoughtfully.
"Come again?" Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion.
"You said it would be hard to explain to your parents how I transformed into this. So what exactly is this?" Draco cleared up.
"I don't know! That's the point!" Hermione huffed in frustration. Her voice came out louder than she had intended for it.
"Calm down; you're scaring away the customers." Draco jested, taking away the fork Hermione was gripping in stabbing position.
"This whole titles thing is very confusing" Hermione sighed desperately.
"Who needs them anyway?" Draco shrugged impassively.
"You do. You just asked me to give a name to this" Hermione replied.
"Not really, I was just intrigued. No demands made" Draco contradicted. "I mean..how would you introduce me to somebody we just met?" Draco asked.
"Oh..umm..I'll say you're a..friend" Hermione replied hesitantly.
Draco gave out a loud incredulous laugh, "You're unbelievable, do you know that?" He grinned at her.
"What? It's true. We are friends now, right?" Hermione insisted.
"That would be the most vague version of the truth. You're gradually turning into a Slytherin" Draco twisted his mouth sardonically at her.
Hermione scoffed at Draco, "How would you introduce me then?" She challenged.
"Well.." Draco paused abruptly, looking at something over Hermione's shoulder. "I'm blaming you for this uneaten breakfast." He said as he stood up and pulled Hermione up with him. He asked the waitress for their bill before hastily leaving some twenty dollar notes on the table. Under his breath, Draco cursed the waitress for being late, muggle money for being complicated, and Hermione's parents for their terrible timing.
"I have no idea what's wrong with me today but the only reason I'm walking with you is because I have an odd feeling we should follow them. So, care to explain what your brilliant plan is?" Hermione demanded.
"My plan can be summed up in following that feeling of yours until we can somehow find a way to spend some time with you parents without seeming too weird and scaring them away" Draco admitted humorously.
"So you plan on following two strangers all day long, based on the gut feeling of a -currently moody- pregnant woman, waiting for a miracle to happen?" Hermione was gaping at Draco with wide eyes, unable to believe that always-have-a-plan-Draco was randomly roaming the streets of a city unfamiliar to him based on a gut feeling. "Draco, that's hardly possible" she tried to reason with him.
"We'll have to be very lucky then" Draco smirked at Hermione. She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him, unable to understand the wicked gleam in his eyes.
A/N: A dedication to freedom of speech, choice and belief. A dedication to respecting others' opinions, choices and beliefs.