Welcome to the penultimate chapter of The Gift of Joy! T/W: Description of a difficult birth
Qween87 - Oh yay I'm so glad you're excited!
Kyonomiko - That's our Hermione, isn't it? Stubborn as always.
pgoodrichboggs - It really isn't a laughing matter at all. Hermione is so stubborn to the point that it's not necessarily positive.
ZoeyOlivia - You're about to get more!
mcal - Draco is trying so hard! There really are so many cliffs, aren't there?
Calimocho - You're welcome!
MotekElm - Thanks for sticking with me!
magicalalice - I worked so hard to make it fit together, so that's a huge compliment. And honestly, I was mad at Hermione as I was writing it lol
SpuffyCarrie - Thank you so very much! I'm so glad you'll be reading 3
MAGIUSTHEELDER - Let me be the first to say that I am the first to know where you are coming from. I wrote Hermione like that on purpose. She is eighteen, under stress from so many sources, and therefore bound to make mistakes. She and Draco have a lot of things to work on, and that's where the sequel comes into play.
mega700201 - Your'e welcome!
HarryPGinny4Eva - I'm glad she didn't come then too! That would have made for an even crazier scene to write. So glad it was the right amount of action!
EnidBarb - I'm tickled pink to hear that!
LashesToAshes - you win comment of the week, darling. Wow. Thank you for saying that about their characterization. I put a lot of thought into it, and the reader is supposed to be both rooting for Hermione and a bit frustrated with her at this point. And Draco? He's probably my favorite to write at this point. I hope that the next two chapters live up to expectation!
With Voldemort's corpse still warm on the flagstone floor, cheering exploded with a roar. The whole room seemed to converge on Harry, leaving he and Hermione alone on near the wall in each other's arms.
"He did it," Hermione murmured between shallow pants. "Harry did it. Is he really gone?"
Draco nodded as tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks, her breath coming in hiccups now. Their quiet moment was interrupted when Hermione gave a sharp cry of pain.
"Ugh, Draco. I feel can feel her. She's so low. There's… pressure."
His eyes went wide. Reality came crashing back all at once. Right. The baby. There would be time to celebrate the Dark Lord's demise later.
With a wave of her wand, Hermione removed the protective enchantments on her stomach. Her huge belly reemerged immediately, safe and sound.
With the reappearance of the weight in her stomach, Hermione shifted onto her hands and knees, rocking back and forth.
"Ma – Madam Pomfrey. Get Madam Pomfrey!" was all she was able to choke out.
Victory wiped from his mind, Draco stood immediately, his face solemn, his mind focused on one single goal. Find the Hogwarts Matron to deliver this baby safely. He pushed into the crowd of people clapping one another on the back and smiling, blissfully unaware that there was anyone in pain at this moment. Not caring what kind of attention he would draw on himself, he began to yell.
"Madam Pomfrey!" he cried, shoving people aside in an effort to find her more quickly. His eyes searched the crowd, overlooking the heads of so many familiar faces, his own parents included. Blood pounded in his ears, perhaps faster than it had even in the throes of battle.
After a few frantic minutes, he found her. She was sitting on a bench, tending to a couple Hufflepuffs with burns on their arms.
"Madam Pomfrey!" he yelled, running right up to her. "We need you."
"I will tend to everyone in turn, Mr. Malfoy. There are many injuries that still–"
"It's Hermione! She–"
"I will not hear another word from you, Mr. Mal–"
"No!" he cried, his voice cracking in desperation. "Hermione – she's pregnant. Thirty-six weeks. She went into early labor during the battle."
The words came tumbling out of his mouth in a single breath.
Madam Pomfrey sat frozen for a half a second, eyes wide as Quaffles. Draco could practically see her trying to process his words. But it seemed her healer's reflexes were quick. Within moments, she stood, her eyes set.
"Where is she now?"
"Over by the wall. I don't know if she can move."
The mediwitch took off at a brisk pace, Draco on her toes. Like him, she pushed through the crowd with fierce determination.
"I stopped a placental abruption earlier," he said as they walked.
She shot him a sharp glance.
"And you managed to heal it?"
"Yes, ma'am. Temporarily, at least."
"Did you not think to come and find me for help earlier, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco scowled. "I tried. You were busy with Lavender Brown."
Madam Pomfrey paled a bit but nodded, and the two of them neared the part of the wall where he had left Hermione. Sure enough, she was right where he left her, panting and scrunching her red face. Draco kneeled down immediately.
"How are you, love? Is she coming?"
Hermione managed a nod.
"Can you move?" Madam Pomfrey inquired. "I want to take you back to my office for privacy."
Another nod.
"Very good. Mr. Malfoy, help me, please. Up you get, dearie." Supporting Hermione with all the strength he could muster, Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione's middle. He could feel her trembling.
They walked through the crowd one step at a time. Now that the charms had been removed, Hermione's ballooned stomach stood out as they made their way toward the Hospital Wing. The three of them were met with stares, open mouths, and even gasps. Several people, including Neville Longbottom and Parvati Patil tried to question her, but Draco only snarled at them to move.
As they finally emerged into the Entrance Hall, two familiar figures came running toward them.
"Let us help," Ron offered, stretching arms out to support his best friend in place of the Matron. She nodded, relinquishing her spot to the lanky redhead.
"Very well. I will run ahead to prepare a bed." Madam Pomfrey bustled along the corridor toward the Hospital Wing.
Harry walked beside them. Though covered in dirt and other grime – much like everyone else – Potter showed no sign that he had come close to death just a short while ago.
He must be running on adrenaline.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" asked the Boy-Who-Lived.
From beside him, he felt Hermione's abdomen contract slightly as she tried to speak. "Oh, Harry. I should ask you that," she rasped.
"Don't be silly, 'Mione. I'm all right. Besides, I'm not the one about to have a baby."
Hermione gave a sharp cry as another contraction seemed to rip through her. The group paused as she gathered herself.
"No, you're not." She spoke with clarity. "But I am grateful you're here." She smiled at Harry and then at Ron. "I love you both. So very much." They both reached forward and grasped one of her hands each.
"Blimey, Hermione. You're gonna be a mum." Ron grinned at her, a disbelieving look on his face.
Hermione beamed, if only for a moment.
They continued on.
"When we get to the Hospital Wing," she began, clearly out of breath, "I want you to leave me with Draco. He can fetch you when the baby's here."
"But–"
"No buts!"
"'Mione–"
"He is the father. And I love him." She looked up at him, adoration in her eyes. For a moment, Draco's breath caught in his throat. "We deserve to do this as a family."
Draco felt his heart soar. A family.
It seemed that these were the words Harry and Ron needed to hear, because they nodded their heads. After another minute of shuffling forward, the group rounded a corner and the Hospital Wing came into view.
Almost immediately, Hermione came to a halt and leaned forward, crying out.
"Draco! I feel the baby. She's… she's so close. I don't know how much further I can make it." She looked wildly up at him, tears streaming down her dirt-smudged face as she began to sink down toward the floor.
Even though he had just fought through the night, a surge of strength from some unknown source flooded his whole body.
He was about to be a dad, and he would be damned if he would begin that role in a decrepit, half-destroyed corridor. For what felt like the hundredth time this month, Weasley's words filled his head.
It was time to step the fuck up.
It was time to prove to himself that he was ready to be a good father. Swatting Ron's arms away, he dipped down and scooped Hermione into his arms.
"Hold on just a couple more minutes, love. We're almost there," he whispered, striding forward. "Harry! Ron! Wait here. I've got this, okay?" Draco called these words over his shoulder.
He didn't look back as he forged ahead toward the hospital wing, but he imagined Hermione's friends to be standing open-mouthed, looking a bit like codfish. He almost chuckled at the thought, but Hermione began moaning at that exact moment – the moment they crossed the threshold into the Hospital Wing.
"Right over here, Mr. Malfoy." Madam Pomfrey guided them to a screened-off bed in the far corner. As gently as he could, Draco placed Hermione on the bed. She continued to grunt.
"I assume you are the father?" the mediwitch asked as she arranged as she closed the screen behind them.
Draco nodded.
"Very well. I need you to help me get her trousers and underwear off if you can, please." The matron gave her orders as she began to fuss over the top of Hermione's body, casting various diagnostic spells.
Draco nodded and did as he was told. Hermione seemed to be past the point of caring about modesty, and both garments came off easily. Not wanting to remain down below for too long, he popped back up by her head, stroking her hair and reaching out to grab her hand.
"Mr. Malfoy, you said you stopped a placental abruption some time ago. Is that correct?" Madam Pomfrey hadn't looked up from her spellwork, despite addressing him directly.
"Yes. During the battle. She had a very minor abruption several weeks ago that was healed by Fleur Delacour and then it became worse a few hours ago. I managed to heal it temporarily."
Madam Pomfrey tutted – in approval, it seemed.
"It seems, Mr. Malfoy, that you saved Miss Granger's life as well as the child's. The baby is under minor distress, but it's nothing that can't be solved with a swift birth." Madam Pomfrey ducked down to peer between Hermione's legs. "And it seems as though that is exactly what we'll get. You know, you really shouldn't have come here at all tonight, Miss Granger. What were you thinking? You're lucky Mr. Malfoy here has a steady wand and a quick mind, or you might very well be lying in the Great Hall with the rest of the fallen."
Shame flooded Hermione's face. Although he couldn't help but agree with Madam Pomfrey's words, he rather thought this was not the time for a lecture. There would be plenty of time to talk once the baby was born.
"What matters now is the baby, love. You're both all right. Focus on her. Focus on our family." He squeezed Hermione's hand as she closed her eyes to concentrate.
Draco thought once more of his father's words of wisdom about birth. In another life, he might have been disgusted by the idea of watching the birth of his child. All the blood and emotion… it was not something he had ever thought he would be prepared for. But standing in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing at the tender age of nearly-eighteen, his heart ached for the woman before him and for their child.
Their child who was about to arrive a month early.
He held tighter to Hermione's hand; he would do just about anything if it meant his daughter arrived safely.
Madam Pomfrey elevated Hermione's torso and propped up her legs.
"All right, Miss Granger. Can you still listen even if you can't respond?"
A nod.
"You have dilated nearly all the way. Merlin knows how you managed to fight in this state. You are too far along for me to dose you with any kind of pain potion. And even if you weren't, all my pain potion stores have been used. That means you'll have to give it your all, dear. I know you're tired, but your baby truly is so close."
"How close?" Draco gulped.
"I'd say you'll be parents before the hour's up."
Hermione squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, offering a weak smile.
After the nonstop, adrenaline-inducing pace of the battle, waiting in the nearly-silent Hospital Wing seemed a nearly impossible task. Time dragged on, seconds feeling like hours and minutes, like decades. Draco found himself matching Hermione's breathing. In and out. In and out. The steady flow of oxygen calmed his overworked brain and allowed him to focus on one singular thought with his whole self.
He was going to be a dad.
When Madam Pomfrey checked on Hermione after about twenty minutes, she looked up at the two of them, a determined expression on her face, and declared Hermione fully ready to deliver.
"You're going to push in sync with your contractions, all right, Miss Granger?"
Hermione grunted an affirmative. She seemed to be beyond words.
"And Mr. Malfoy, she's going to need your support. Got it? Yes? Okay. Another contraction is coming. And… push!"
The mediwitch began to count backwards from ten, and Hermione howled. Draco felt his hand being crushed, but honestly, it didn't matter. He wished he could do more.
"Mr. Malfoy! Grab her leg and pull it toward you."
He did as he was told, reaching down. As he did, he briefly glanced down below. What he saw took his breath away. There, between Hermione's legs, was the top of a head.
A head with a mop of chestnut-coloured hair.
Emotion flooded him and pulled back to Hermione's side. He placed his forehead to her temple. Her skin was slick with sweat, but he paid it no heed.
"I see her, love. I see our baby. She's got your hair colour."
The ghost of a smile floated across Hermione's face before Madame Pomfrey coached her through another big push. Draco marveled at her strength. She had not only been awake for nearly twenty-four hours; during that time, she had broken into a bank, ridden a dragon, broken into the Chamber of Secrets, and dueled Death Eaters. But it wasn't only that. Hermione had been carrying this child in love and secrecy and danger for months, and she still had the strength to give it her all here at the very end.
Merlin, he loved this woman.
Five more scream-inducing pushes and the tiny body slid into Madam Pomfrey's waiting hands.
She was tiny.
Perfect.
Blue.
Silent.
Draco's heart began to beat erratically as Madam Pomfrey gave the baby a thump on the back. Then another. And another. She rubbed the child vigorously, whispering. "Come on, little one. Come on!"
The wave of joy that had crested inside fell with a crash as tears of panic began welling in his eyes. What was wrong with her? Why wasn't she breathing?
Come on! Breathe! Breathe!
Draco chanced a glance at Hermione. She was openly sobbing, repeatedly muttering something through her tears. When he strained his ears, he was able to make out three words that made his heart shatter:
"All my fault. All my fault. All my fault."
Draco's world began to spin out of control. He gripped the side of the bed for support. This wasn't fair. They had both been through so much to get to this moment. Was the battle too much stress for their daughter? They should have run to the Prefect's bathroom when they had the chance. They should have just stayed at Shell Cottage where it was safe. Hermione shouldn't have gone on that bloody mission and ridden a dragon.
His fists tightened around the bedsheets. Damn her and damn this bloody war!
Draco wanted to be mad at Hermione… he needed someone to blame for the blue baby in Madam Pomfrey's arms. But when he gave himself the chance to look up at her, he saw nothing short of utter despair in her eyes.
Draco mentally kicked himself. What was he thinking? Why was he trying to talk himself into blaming Hermione? She was just as aggrieved as he was, if not more. The guilt she must have been feeling… it was unimaginable.
No, this was their burden to shoulder. Together.
Draco watched a Madam Pomfrey continued to rub the baby firmly with her palm, coaxing her to breathe. Each second that ticked by, he felt his heart sink deeper into his body. They couldn't lose the baby. They couldn't.
He closed his eyes, praying to some unknown something out in the universe. Save her. Please help. Please.
And then…
The baby took a great gulp of air and screamed. At once, Draco's eyes flew open to see his daughter's chest move up and down, life pouring into her with such richness and fullness that the whole world seemed to shift. Her skin turned a rich pink, and her bright red mouth was open and letting out such a cry as he had never heard before.
Draco joined Hermione and sobbed. He cried for his daughter's life. He cried for their own safety. He cried for all the moments in his life, both good and horrific that led to this exact moment. It took thirty seconds of heavy weeping before either of them got it together enough to open their arms to their daughter.
With great emotion in her own eyes, Madam Pomfrey placed the newborn on her mother's chest. The little creature squalled. Draco was sure he had never heard a more heavenly sound.
The mediwitch encouraged Draco to rub the baby's back. The tiny girl was coated in vernix – he had read all about that. She was slimy and bloody and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He never wanted to move his hand.
Hermione seemed to be in shock.
"Oh my god," she whispered, staring at the baby in her arms. "Oh my god."
Neither of them spoke for a long while. Instead, they simply watched the little purple thing squirming and whimpering on her mother's chest. Madam Pomfrey allowed Draco to sever the cord with his wand.
After several minutes, Hermione seemed to come back to herself; she cuddled the tiny body closer, a look of pure adoration in her eyes. "Our little girl," she cooed, moving her finger gently over the child's cheek.
Draco glanced briefly at Madam Pomfrey, who was massaging Hermione's abdomen. He recalled somewhere in the recesses of his mind reading something about methods of extracting the afterbirth. Though she must still be in pain, Hermione certainly didn't show it. She was so in awe of their daughter that it seemed her afterbirth would be delivered without a second thought.
"Oh, Draco. She's perfect."
He wasn't so sure his tongue worked any longer, so he settled for dropping a kiss on both the baby's and Hermione's temples. How had he ever lived before this moment? How had he had a life before this woman and this tiny girl?
Though he was certainly still full of regret, he finally felt an odd sort of peace with the hellish existence he had lived for the past two years. If everything he had been through led him to this exact moment, it was all worth it.
Madam Pomfrey returned to their side after a few more minutes. Leaving a fresh pair of pyjamas, she explained that she needed to check the baby, but would return momentarily. With great reluctance, it seemed, Hermione relinquished the baby to the Hogwarts Matron's care. The moment the child was out of her arms, Hermione slumped back onto the pillows.
"You did so well. I'm so proud of you," he murmured in her ear.
"I'm sorry I was so foolish," she admitted, looking away. "She… she almost died because of me. We should have run while we could. I should have never gone to Gringotts in the first place. A dragon! What was I thinking? It was… it was my idea to ride it." Hermione turned her head further downward, refusing to look at him. "I don't know how you can even stand look at me right now. I wouldn't be able to look at me."
Draco sighed. He reached out and held Hermione's hand, stroking it with his thumb.
"I'm not going to lie and say that you didn't scare the shite out of me when you did all those things. I was so mad at you when you were planning everything. And when Bill told us the rumour that you had ridden a dragon? I was furious."
When he looked up and saw that Hermione was on the verge of tears again, his heart sank. "Did you know that Dean Thomas had the gall to say that your escape was 'cool'? I wanted to strangle him right then and there."
Hermione chanced a glance at him.
"But if you hadn't gone… if you hadn't come tonight… I don't think the Dark Lord would be lying dead right now. You didn't deal any of the final blows, but you helped make it possibl-"
"I almost killed her, Draco! I almost killed our daughter because I wouldn't listen to you. You kept telling me that it was time to go, but I didn't listen!"
Hermione had both eyes on him now. He didn't waste his chance. Grabbing her on her upper arms, he shook her slightly, his own eyes boring into hers. He had to get through to her - had to make her see...
"Our daughter is alive, Hermione! You're alive! I'm alive! You didn't kill her. Yes, you were reckless, but what matters now is that our daughter is over there with the healer, very much alive."
"She's alive," Hermione whispered.
"She's alive," he confirmed, his expression softening. "And what's done is done. Just as long as you promise to never be that reckless again - carrying our children or not - then let's be done with this kind of talk."
Hermione sniffed and wiped the tears from her face like a child, herself.
"Children? You want to go through all this again?" Her eyebrows raised, the hint of disbelief in her face.
Draco chuckled. "Maybe not all of it. I could leave out the war if there's a next time. Let's see how good we are with the one over there before we rush into anything."
Hermione tilted her head toward his, and he planted a soft kiss on her lips. Having calmed down now, Draco turned to the task presented to him by Madam Pomfrey. With great care, he gingerly removed her shirt and bra, now stained with amniotic fluid. He conjured a basin of water, warmed it, and gave his girlfriend a careful sponge bath. All manner of grime came off: dirt, dust, blood…
The sheets on the bed were still stained bright red near the apex of her thighs. He avoided cleaning that area in case there was special care involved.
She didn't say anything as he tended to her, choosing instead to close her eyes and lean into him. There was a lovely sort of simplicity to this quiet moment. When he finished, he helped her into a soft blue nightgown. Just as he was doing up the buttons by her collarbone, the mediwitch returned with the baby. Now swaddled and sleeping, her little face peeked out from a soft white blanket.
To his surprise, she was placed in his own arms.
His first thought was that he had never seen anything so tiny in his entire life. It was almost impossible to imagine that this little being had been created from a single act of love and desperation all those months ago. But here she was, safe and sound. They were all safe. Draco soaked in her button nose, rosy lips, and wrinkly still-closed eyes. Though she hadn't opened them yet, he hoped they would be the same chocolate brown as Hermione's.
Hermione.
He looked up from his daughter to find the mother of his child watching him, tears in her eyes. But these weren't the same angry tears she had cried just minutes before. These were tears of joy.
"We made it, love. She's here and she's all ours."
"All ours," he breathed.
Hermione leaned back on her pillows and sniffed. "We get to live now, don't we?"
He nodded and found he was quite unable to wipe the smile from his face. "She's perfect. Aren't you? You're so perfect." He had never pictured himself to be the cooing type, but he couldn't stop the high-pitched voice as it bubbled out of him.
This was utter bliss.
And then, without warning, Hermione lurched forward, clutching her stomach and letting out a hollow scream.
"Oh God, Draco. It hurts!" she shrieked, her eyes scrunched in pain. Horrified, Draco's eyes traveled from her stomach downward. The crimson stain between her legs was growing exponentially at an alarming rate.
Eyes shooting back up, he saw Hermione had gone as white as a ghost and he knew he had to act.
"M-Madam Pomfrey! Come quickly!"
He felt the words spill from his cotton-dry mouth in a panic. He clutched the baby to his chest.
His voice must have sounded urgent, because Madam Pomfrey came tearing past the curtains. She gasped when she saw the puddle of blood gathering between Hermione's legs.
"What happened?"
"She was fine! I swear, she was just fine! And then she started bleeding and said she was in pain! What do we do?"
The mediwitch's demeanor switched immediately as she drew her wand to the ready position.
"Mr. Malfoy. Miss Granger's condition is critical. It would be for the best if you leave me to sort her out."
Draco blanched. "I'm not going anywhere. Hermione… she needs me."
"What she needs," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, "is professional medical intervention. You need to care for your daughter."
Draco looked between Hermione and the baby before turning his gaze back to the matron. He could feel his breath coming in sharp pants.
"Go, Draco," Hermione whispered from the bed. Her voice barely carried, but he heard her wishes loud and clear.
As Madam Pomfrey dove into work, Draco ducked through the hospital curtains with his daughter clutched tightly in his arms. The panic that had seemed to ebb and flow as freely as the tides that night returned in full force as his girlfriend slipped out of sight. Though his mind was clouded, his feet seemed to know where to take him. Somehow, he managed to put one foot in front of the other until he exited the through the Hospital Wing doors and found himself in the debris-ridden corridor.
He had to lean on the broken stone wall for support.
Immediately, Harry and Ron gravitated toward him, jumping up from where they had been sitting on the floor.
Draco just wished they would leave him alone.
"Blimey," Ron said, a grin on his stupid face.
"Is Hermione all right?" asked Harry, meeting his eyes.
When he didn't respond, Harry pressed. "Malfoy, is Hermione okay?"
Something about the way he asked - perhaps it was his earnest expression - broke some sort of dam within him. He was so tired of crying - of having reasons to cry. But that didn't seem to stop his body from reacting.
Great sobs wracked his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut, but without sight, all he could see in his mind's eye was blood.
Oh gods, the blood.
He couldn't lose Hermione. He couldn't be left alone with his daughter. He just couldn't. Today was supposed to mark a new beginning - not an end.
Harry reached out with gentle hands and shifted the baby into his own arms, cradling her as Draco continued to sob.
After a minute or so, the tears waned. Perhaps he was all cried out. He longed for his mind to lose focus - to go blank. He longed to forget that Hermione was fighting for her life on the other side of the Hospital Wing doors. Draco stared ahead without really seeing.
"What's wrong with Hermione?" Ron asked, the tone of his voice low.
Draco took two deep breaths. Her best friends deserved to know what was happening.
"I'm not sure," he answered; Draco didn't recognize his own voice. It was so hollow. "She was just fine when the baby was born. Gods, she was amazing. But then she started bleeding and she was in so much pain…"
Draco took in both young men's expressions as fear spread to their eyes.
"What if she…?" He heard the beginning of the question exit his mouth, unable to form the last word growing like a poison in his mind. "I can't lose her. I just can't." More tears threatened to appear, but none fell. A melancholy stoicism settled into Draco instead.
He had seen too much… experienced too much…
If only he could stop feeling so damn much.
Harry, who still held the baby, reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder firmly. Ron followed suit. No words were exchanged, but Draco preferred that way. The silence left him room to think. But even though he had felt lost moments before, the hands of his… Merlin, were they his friends, now? The hands of his friends somehow grounded him in a way that surprised him. Even after defeating the Dark Lord and losing a brother, these two were willing to offer him comfort.
Now he truly felt like shite for assuming the worst of them for years. What else had he missed out on because of assumptions?
If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he was going to teach his daughter to be open to experiences and people of all kinds. He wanted her to be like Hermione.
Even if he had to instill that by himself.
Sniffing, his newborn daughter swam back into focus. Her tiny face poked out from behind Harry's arm's and the blankets. She seemed to be sleeping.
Hadn't he sworn he would face one hundred Death Eaters for her? Done anything for her?
He needed to step the fuck up.
"I'll take her back," said Draco, reaching forward. He needed to be brave. He needed to put one foot in front of the other for himself and for his daughter.
Harry transferred the infant back into his arms, and the weight of the baby felt immediately comforting. Her tiny, warm body leaned against him, her face turning slightly toward his chest. When he touched her cheek with his forefinger, her mouth began to move as though she were sucking away at a meal.
It was a meal that her mother might never be able to provide.
Though Draco's throat hitched again, he did not cry. He could not cry.
As though able to sense his emotions, the baby began to whimper in his arms. Her whole face crinkled up, and her gummy mouth opened wide as she began to scream.
"Shh, little one. It's all right. I've got you. Daddy's got you."
He rocked the baby back and forth for several minutes as Harry and Ron looked on, the door to the Hospital Wing remaining still. The baby quieted after a bit, settling into a slumber once more.
After a few moments of absolute silence, the double doors swung open, revealing an exhausted Madam Pomfrey. All three young men stood at attention immediately, eyes unblinking. Draco was sure his heart stood still.
She smiled.
"Miss Granger is going to be all right."
Draco let out a great sigh of relief, all the tension leaving his body at once. "Do you hear that, little girl? Your mummy is going to be just fine." He cuddled her cheek to his own. "We both love you so very much."
The mediwitch held the door open for all three young men. Draco strode in first, his eyes trained on the curtains where he knew Hermione was concealed.
There she was, leaning on her pillows looking pale and drained. Though she was clearly half-asleep, she glowed like a star when she caught his eye. Draco didn't hesitate when he arrived at her bedside. He perched himself on the edge of the bed, the baby between them, and peppered her face with featherlight kisses.
"I thought I lost you," he murmured into her hair.
"I'm still here, love," she whispered back.
Draco knew that Madam Pomfrey, Harry, and Ron were probably watching this all unfold, but he didn't give a damn. Hermione was alive. The war was over and they had made it out alive with a new baby in their arms.
"May I?" Hermione held her arms out to the bundle in his arms.
Draco couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "You don't have to ask. She's your daughter."
"I know-" Hermione replied. "I just-" she glanced over at Madam Pomfrey.
"You can hold the baby, dear. Just as long as you keep her off your abdomen for now. Keep using pillows for support."
The Hogwarts Matron had tears in her eyes as she spoke. Draco smiled gratefully and turned back to Hermione, gently placing the baby in her arms. Her expression softened, eyes sparkling as she took in the infant, as though for the first time.
"She's ours, isn't she?" Hermione whispered, stroking the baby's chestnut hair.
"All ours," he replied, sliding onto the bed beside her. He wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and together they simply stared at their daughter.
At some point, the others must have slipped off, though they hardly noticed.
All that mattered in this brand new world laid asleep in their arms.
I'm sorry that I took you on such a dramatic journey, but SHE'S HERE! If I gave you heart palpitations as you read this followed by warm feelings, then my goal was achieved. Just the epilogue and then we're FINISHED. All those hankies I offered you criers in the reviews? Imma need them back.
I am happy to announce that the sequel to this lovely story will be up soon. I'm trying to write a handful of chapters in advance so I don't leave you hanging for too long. If you're not following me, go ahead and do that so you'll get an email when it's up!
As always, please leave me a review and come follow me on tumblr at biscuitsforpotter! I've got a handful of fun things coming up!