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CHAPTER 25

Hermione's arm sliding across my chest startled me awake. I'd grown accustomed to her being an early riser, and more often than not, she was gone before I was truly awake.

"Good morning," she said as she curled into my side, still sleep-warm.

"Don't you have classes this morning?" I asked, wrapping my arm around her.

"I rang and told them I was sick," she explained. "And I thought snuggling with you most of the morning would be the best remedy." She lifted her head, "Unless you had plans."

"No plans that can't be changed for snuggling."

"Lucius—"

"I have to finalise some arrangements with my publisher for the book signing tour, which can wait. And I have to make a phone call to my travel agent, which can also wait. So I'm all yours for morning snuggling."

"You lead quite the charmed life, Lucius Malfoy."

I laughed. "I'm well aware."

"And this phone call to the travel agent…"

"Is between me and her."

I hadn't really had a chance to think too much about the holiday I had promised her. I wanted to take her somewhere she could just relax before the madness of ballet and book tours and Christmas began. I had some ideas, but I needed to discuss them further with my agent before I could decide.

"As long as it's warm and there's a pool," she said. "Oh, and you should probably be there."

I poked her ribs and she laughed, kissing my chest and curling closer to me.

"I'll take your requests under advisement." I ran my hand along her arm, then kissed the top of her head. "Are you feeling alright this morning?"

"Surprisingly, well. I think…" She trailed off.

"You think…?"

"I think he's finally out of my system. I mean, we were definitely over, but I was still holding onto an impossible friendship. I should have realised sooner."

"He made promises to you that he broke, and betrayed your trust. I know you would have realised eventually. And," I hated to say it, but I needed her to know my absolute trust in her, "if you do ever want to be friends with him again, I won't have an issue with it."

"I am one hundred percent done with him." She lifted her head and smiled at me, "And I one hundred percent know you would have an issue with it."

"Yes, you're probably right," I agreed.

"No, I'm definitely right." She propped herself up on one elbow. "You don't have to be chivalrous all the time, Lucius. You can tell me not to see him ever again and I won't think you're being controlling."

"I honestly didn't care until last night," I told her. "Even with the suspicions I had regarding his feelings, I had very few concerns about your friendship with him."

"And yet, we can't say the same thing about him when it came to you." She sighed then palmed my cheek. "Third time lucky, I guess."

"For both of us," I added, making her smile.

"I am sorry all this happened." She pressed her fingers to my lips, stopping my protest at her apology. "I know you don't want to hear that, but I need you to. I need you to know that when I met you, I wasn't anticipating any of this happening."

"You would have to have been quite the fortune teller to predict all of this happening."

"Perhaps Mrs Trelawney has had an influence on me," she said, giggling.

"Yes, perhaps. I mean, mad women stick together, don't they?"

"Ha, ha, funny man." She stabbed her finger into my chest. "Maybe on the next solstice, I'll go out in the garden and dance naked with her."

"I have absolutely no objection to you dancing naked." I stretched up and kissed her smirking mouth. She was still

smirking when I let my head drop back to the pillow.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked.

I frowned, then turned my head from one side to the other, surprised to find there was no pain.

"That's interesting." I turned my head again. "No pain at all."

"Perhaps you were holding onto some anger at Charlie."

"I'm not sure I believe anything quite so holistic," I said, pressing my chin to my chest and stretching my neck.

"I do," she said. "Charlie's actions were clearly bothering you more than you thought. And threatening him dislodged all your pent up anger." Her hand moved down my chest to my navel, her fingers teasing at the waistband of my boxers. "And if you're feeling better, maybe we could skip the snuggling."

Reaching beneath the covers, I moved her hand lower, pressing her palm against me.

"I believe you made me a promise."

She frowned, "What promise?"

I began moving her hand over me. "I'm certain you said — and I quote — 'I want to ride you until you can't remember your own name'."

Her frown slowly became a wicked grin. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"You were quite adamant about it."

"Hmm," she hummed, her hand shifting from beneath mine and slipping into my pants. "I am rather bored of my own fingers."

"Excuse me?" I arched an eyebrow, wondering when she'd managed to touch herself without my knowing.

"In the shower," she said, her hand squeezing and sliding causing my cock to wake with a jolt. "Every morning while you were asleep. Imagining being on my knees in front of you."

"If you do that again, please let me know. I'd like to be an audience for that solo performance."

Hermione giggled, kissed my chest, then shoved at my boxers. I lifted my hips, helping her, and kicked them the rest of the way off.

"I didn't take you for a voyeur, Lucius Malfoy."

"As a general rule, no, I'm not." I tugged at the lacy camisole she was wearing, dropping it over the side of the bed as she shimmied out of her knickers. "But, I definitely like watching you."

She rose above me and sat on my thighs, her hand wrapping around my cock, her wicked grin returning.

"Well then, Mr Malfoy. I hope you enjoy the show."

"If I wasn't the size of a blue whale right now, I'd go over there, rip his balls off and shove them down his throat."

I snorted a quiet laugh; Pansy was in the living room with Hermione. She'd rung to see how things had gone with Charlie, and upon discovering Hermione had taken a sick day, she'd arrived an hour later. I'd given them some space to talk, relocating to the study to make some phone calls, but Pansy's delightfully vocal expressions had been amusing me to no end.

After our morning snuggling, we'd showered and Hermione had insisted on making a late breakfast. She'd been twitchy, out of her normal routine, and I had thought it wouldn't take much for her to change her mind and race to her classes. Pansy's arrival had calmed her, given her something else to focus on other than the guilt of taking a sick day when she wasn't sick. And hearing her laugh with Pansy erased any thoughts of her running out the door.

I gripped the back of my neck — as had become habit the last few weeks — but the expected pain had vanished. Hermione's observance of my pain being related to my anger at Charlie was something I held absolutely no truth in. Holistic healing was—in my opinion— utter nonsense. However, the complete lack of pain, and the lack of any lingering anxiety regarding her friendship with him was completely gone.

Shrugging off the possibility Hermione might be right, I closed my laptop — and any possibility of Hermione sneaking a look at my google history— and re-joined them in the living room.

"Ginny said Molly spent half an hour yelling down the phone at him," Pansy was saying. "Something about not being raised as an inconsiderate liar."

"Will I ever get to meet Molly? I do like the way she thinks." I picked up their empty glasses from the coffee table, "Water?"

"I'd love a glass of red," Pansy said, then rubbed her belly. "But apparently it's not good for this one."

"We have black currant juice for Scorpius. It's red-ish."

"Blergh," Pansy gagged. "Water's fine."

I laughed, refilled their glasses, then sat in the armchair opposite them.

"I'm so disappointed you didn't punch Charlie's face, Lucius," Pansy said. "No one would have cared. In fact, we would have held you in even higher esteem."

"Lucius doesn't work that way," Hermione told her. "But, Charlie does know not to come near me."

"Ooh." Pansy rubbed her hands together gleefully. "What did you say to him? Did you threaten to end his branch of the Weasley family tree?"

"No. I simply asked him not to come near Hermione again," I explained. "And that if he does, it will not be in his best interest."

"He was much angrier when he said it," Hermione added, smiling at me. "It definitely sounded like a threat."

Pansy nodded slowly, "You're all prim and proper, but yeah, I see it. You'd be as scary as shit given the chance. Especially if it involves someone you love."

"You're very astute, Ms Parkinson," I commented. "My son and his family, and now Hermione, are everything that's important to me. I will not allow anyone to bring harm to them. And Charlie Weasley has just knocked my ex-wife from her position at the top of my most watched list."

"How many people are on that list?" Pansy asked.

"Just those two," I answered, then added with a wink. "So far."

"I knew I liked you," Pansy said, then winced. She grabbed Hermione's hand and pressed it against her belly, lamenting her discomfort. "Seven more weeks of internal bruising, and then Harry can deal with Little Miss Wants Attention All The Time."

"She has half your genes. Of course she wants to be the centre of attention," Hermione teased, laughing when Pansy shoved at her shoulder. Her hand never strayed, though. Her fingers splayed across Pansy's belly, her face delighted with what I assumed were the movements of the baby held within.

We'd not had any further discussions regarding her desire to have a child of her own since her slight meltdown when Pansy announced her pregnancy. And, in all honesty, I'd not given it much further thought either. I'd certainly make good on my promise if that's what she wanted. I was approaching fifty, but I definitely felt capable of raising another child.

Had Narcissa not been so self-centred, Draco definitely would have had at least one sibling. She had what she called her heir, and with him a hold on my fortune. And she wanted for nothing more. I'd always been certain she'd favoured my fortune over her son, so I remained less than half hearted in my encouragement of Draco's interactions with his mother. And since Draco had spent almost his entire life in my stead, his relationship with his mother was civil at best.

I began to imagine Hermione pregnant. My own hand splayed over her belly, feeling the movements of our child. She would be even more beautiful than she already was, and I knew without a doubt, I'd be less able to resist her than I could now.

Another thought forced me to turn and look out the windows to hide my smile.

We'd not been using any kind of birth control since the first time we'd fucked bare in the foyer, so perhaps we'd already had the undiscussed discussion I assumed we needed to have.

"You okay, over there?" Pansy was watching me. "Is my gorgeous baby bump grossing you out?"

"Nothing of the sort. You are absolutely glowing, Pansy. I'm just thinking I've disrupted your afternoon. It's rare indeed that you get a day together outside of your usual Sundays."

"Nice try," Pansy snorted. "You're sitting over there looking a little… smug. What are you thinking?"

I glanced at Hermione, her lips were twisted into a smile, and I got the distinct impression she knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Pretty sure he's being smug about how enthusiastic he was this morning to have me home," Hermione deflected. "He doesn't believe in holistic healing, but he had no pain this morning for the first time since Charlie hit him."

Pansy grinned at me, looking impressed. "Perhaps I've disrupted your afternoon. You could have enthusiastically spent the day in bed."

I laughed. "Enthusiasm aside, I still feel like I'm interrupting your time together."

"Nope," Pansy disagreed with a shake of her head. "You two are a package deal now. It's to be expected that you'll be around to interrupt."

"And, I like having you here," Hermione added sweetly. "I'm playing hooky, and having two of my favourite people with me doesn't make me feel as guilty."

"I've never known you to ever take a sick day. Even when you should." Pansy shrugged, "Don't feel guilty at all."

All the issues with Charlie aside, I admired how much Hermione's friends cared for and protected her. She had no real family and her motley collection of friends had easily stepped up into the role. And despite all their differences, they just seemed to work.

"I agree," I said. "You didn't even take a day off when you were injured a few months ago. You should feel absolutely zero guilt about taking a day for yourself."

"I know," Hermione replied with a sigh. "It's just hard to break my habits. You both know that."

"We do. And we wouldn't have you any other neurotic way." Pansy grabbed Hermione's hand again, holding it lower on her belly this time. "Your little ballet prodigy is dancing a right storm today."

Pansy winced, shifting uncomfortably, then gasped sharply.

"Pans?" Hermione said, looking alarmed.

"I'm fine, it's just—fuck!" She clutched her side and sat up, her face screwing into a painful grimace.

I stood quickly, moving to crouch beside her. "Pansy, what are you feeling?"

"Pain, sharp cramping pain." She exhaled slowly, her eyes wide as she looked at me. "But, it's way too early for this."

"It's probably false labour," I said.

"Did you become a doctor all of a sudden?" she snapped, wincing again.

"No," I answered, biting back my grin. "My son might be twenty-five, but I remember his mother going through this." I looked at Hermione and, seeing the rising panic on her face, spoke calmly, "Perhaps if you ring Harry. Tell him we'll meet him at the hospital, just in case."

"No." Pansy shook her head. "You're right. It's just Braxton Hicks. She still has seven weeks to go. She's not ready yet."

What I heard was Pansy wasn't ready.

"No, she's probably not," I agreed, squeezing her hand gently. "But I think Harry should come here anyway. He won't be pleased, if on the odd chance you have this baby on our living room floor and he misses it."

"That's not happening either," she said, a small smile brightening her eyes. "My lady garden might be nice to look at, but I'm not showing you."

I laughed. "I'm sure it's a delight, and I'd be forever grateful to not see it."

She breathed in deeply and leaned back on the sofa as she exhaled.

"Harry's on his way," Hermione informed us. She was clutching her phone and still looking panicked.

"I'm okay," Pansy said. "Really. She's been bouncing around like crazy today, she probably just broke my rib."

"I'm not sure if that's possible." I held up my hand and waited for her to nod her consent, then pressed gently against her lower ribs. Narcissa had moaned almost constantly during her last weeks of pregnancy — her entire pregnancy, if I was being honest — and my recollection was of her doctor explaining about rib flaring, about how the baby grew rather quickly during the last trimester, and how the uterus needed more room to accommodate this. Why I remembered what he'd said all those years ago, I couldn't say, but my explanation to Pansy seemed to settle her, and Hermione.

"How do you remember that?" Hermione asked.

"My writer brain retains all manner of ridiculous facts." I glanced back at Pansy, my hand still pressed to her ribs. "Can you take a deep breath?"

She did, and nodded. "No pain. I'm guessing that means no broken ribs."

"I believe so. I still think you should have Harry take you to the hospital though. Get checked out properly. I can research being a doctor, but I'm certainly not one."

I felt a small kick against my hand and smiled.

"She's definitely going to take after her Aunt Hermione," I said, retracting my hand and standing. "Those are some strong dancer's feet. Did you need some water?"

Pansy answered in the affirmative, and I retreated to the kitchen, hoping my thoughts hadn't filtered through to my face. I remembered feeling my son move against my palm, remembered talking to him despite Narcissa thinking me mad for doing so. I loved him from the very moment I knew he existed, and rather selfishly, I wanted to feel that again.

"You were pretty amazing today," Hermione noted as she sat on the bathroom counter, watching me brush my teeth. "It's crazy what's inside your brain."

I hummed my agreement, still astounded at my own recall.

Harry had arrived in a blind panic, insisting Pansy go immediately to the hospital. He'd brokered no arguments, and when he'd rung a few hours later, he confirmed that Pansy indeed was experiencing false contractions, and that her ribs were not broken.

I was relieved, Hermione more so.

Pain and hurt of any kind had a triggering effect on her, and while she now was aware that Pansy was fine, the hours between had been tense. Making tea and pacing were her main distractions, but I'd seen all the smaller, less noticeable ones. She fidgeted, her knee bounced, her fingers tapped, she flicked through television channels at a dizzying speed. And while she'd calmed considerably, her body language told me she had something serious on her mind.

I rinsed my mouth, took the towel she handed me, and dried my face. I wiped the counter with the same towel before tossing it in the hamper, then stood directly in front of her.

"What's on your mind?"

She reached for my hand, linking our fingers, letting out a slow breath. She twisted her lips thoughtfully as her thumb slid back and forth along my thumb.

"Earlier, when Pansy was here, you were thinking about me being pregnant, weren't you?"

I nodded. "I was."

"Do you think about that a lot?"

"Honestly, I don't. I was just watching you with Pansy, and your face…" I curled my hand around her jaw, letting my thumb drift across her cheek. "Your face lit up when you felt the baby move, and I couldn't help myself in wanting to know what that would feel like with you."

"Do you want it for yourself?"

"I want it only if it's a possibility."

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

"You've said it might be impossible for you to get pregnant with POI?" she nodded and I continued, "I don't want you to think I'll be disappointed if you're unable to conceive."

She stared down at our linked hands and I noted the twitch in her cheek. She hadn't understood me and I internally berated myself; I was a writer and was unable to explain myself properly.

"Hermione, darling, I told you when we first discussed this, I would do everything possible to give it to you, if it's what you want. And that promise remains. But, if we make the decision to try, the treatments are going to be much harder on you than me."

Her frown relaxed and she smiled. "You're worried about how this will affect me?"

"Of course I am," I said. "I don't know much about fertility treatments, but I would assume, in cases like this, they're much harder on the female. If it's horrendous, it will kill me to have to watch you suffer through it. And I don't want to think about all that you'll have to give up. It scares me how much this will affect you."

"I'm scared too, but feeling Pansy's baby…" Her smile slipped a little and the nervous tick flicked her cheek again. She took a breath and looked at me with such hope, "I want to try. After our holiday, and your book tour, and Paris. I want to try."

I lifted my hands to cup her face, leaning in to kiss her gently.

"Then we'll try. After our lives calm down, we'll make the appointments and we'll do everything we can to make this happen." I kissed her again. I wanted her to have everything she ever wanted, but I also needed her to know that she meant more to me than anything else we were considering. "But please know, if we try and fail, you are enough. You are more than enough."