Chapter 3. Thanks go out to everyone who followed, favorited or reviewed. I love the fact that there are people out there shipping this unusual pair.
"Hermione?" Diane gently touched her daughter's shoulder when she walked into the hospital wing, finding her still rooted to the single chair next to the blonde's bed.
Hermione's eyes met her mother's. "I… I'm so afraid she'll die…"
"I know, love, I know." Diane sighed as she took in the still form. She wished there was a monitor to show her how she was doing. In the wizarding world, everything was done with wands and magic and while she was proud of her little witch, she never really felt comfortable or really at home surrounded by nothing but magic. "How is she doing?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not good. Not good at all. Madame Pomfrey checked on her earlier. She's lost a lot of blood and the wounds from the splinching heal very slowly."
"Splinching?"
Hermione started to explain, sometimes forgetting that her parents wouldn't know of things such as splinching. "It usually happens when someone doesn't concentrate hard enough while apparating. You can leave clothes but also parts of your body behind. Ronald failed his test because he'd lost one of his eyebrows. I- uh, I think it happened because Findabair was able to grab her."
"So the wounds to her side," Mrs. Granger tried to clarify, "They are caused by her leaving… tissue behind?"
"Exactly," Hermione nodded. "It uh, it is a very dangerous magical injury. And it takes a lot of time to heal fully."
"What about the baby?" Diane Granger noticed how her daughter's hands clenched into fists.
"Madame Pomfrey said she'd check on it later. Right now it isn't really anyone's priority." Hermione sounded bitter saying those words, not at all how her mother knew her.
"It should be," Diane remembered the 'talk' she'd had with the blonde witch. This was a woman who protected those she loved. She had defended her unborn child against her harsh accusations. "This child, no matter its parentage, is still an innocent. It deserves to live and grow like every child. And we mustn't forget that it isn't only his – it is hers as well. I might've only known her for a moment but I am certain she loves the baby no matter what."
Hermione let the words sink in and eventually understood, a guilty feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. Her mother was right. It wasn't okay to condemn this child before it even got the chance to be born and loved. It wasn't okay to curse its existence, no matter the circumstances it had been conceived in. And at the end of the day, this child was also half Narcissa.
"You're right. I'll get Madame Pomfrey to come and do the check-up right now." Hermione walked off towards the woman's office, leaving her mother behind with the unconscious witch.
Diane stepped closer to the bed and studied the woman's features. This was the woman who had saved her and her husband's lives, risking her own. She was also the one who saved Hermione from a deatheater three years ago – or so they had learned the day before.
Yet, she looked so frail, her body resting on the hospital bed, her skin deathly pale. She looked like a broken porcelain doll, not like a powerful witch, a hero.
Diane was sure there was a connection between that woman and her daughter she didn't quite understand or know at this point in time. Going beyond the events at the Quidditch World Cup.
She remembered the way the blonde had said Hermione's name and the way her daughter had clung to her side the day before. Could it be? Could they…
No.
Diane Granger vehemently shook her head to clear it from the ridiculous thoughts. Narcissa Malfoy was a married woman, the mother of a boy in Hermione's year, a withdrawn, somewhat arrogant young man she'd met yesterday. She was about twenty years older than her Hermione – and yes, she knew that ages were different in the Wizarding World but still. And she was also a woman, not that Diane would mind if Hermione was gay. But she remembered how she'd swooned over Victor Krum a few years back and was pretty sure her daughter was into-
"Let's do this," Poppy Pomfrey sighed, pulling her wand.
Diane took a couple steps back from the bed to allow the mediwitch room to work. She hadn't even noticed her and her daughter's presence until now, so absorbed had she been in her own thoughts.
She saw the nervous expression on Hermione's face and seized her hand, holding it tightly. "Everything will be all right, Hermione. I'm sure of it."
Hermione gave her mother a thankful nod before she focused on Madame Pomfrey and the woman on the bed.
As the old mediwitch waved her wand through the air and over Narcissa's stomach, a feather started gliding over the notepad she had placed on the mattress beside her patient, scribbling down the findings as she went. Skillfully, Poppy ended the spell and picked up the notepad, well aware of the two Granger women's anxious stares.
She quickly read over the… Wait. What was that. Thinking there had to be a mistake, Poppy Pomfrey reread the whole thing, only to gasp in shock at reading the same thing once more. Bringing her hand to her open mouth, the notepad clattered to the floor and she watched how the Gryffindor student picked it up, a fearful expression in her eyes. Quickly, Madame Pomfrey snatched it back, holding it to her chest.
"Patient Confidentiality," she stated before one of the two Granger women could utter a word.
"But–"
"No 'buts', Ms. Granger," she sternly said, sending the paper to her file cabinet with a quick move of her wand, locking it away from prying eyes. She turned to go and tend to her second patient – a young Hufflepuff who's spell had gone horribly wrong and was now sporting a third eye on the back of his head – but looked at the Grangers once more, seeing the concerned look in both faces. "No reason to be worried though. The child is healthy, that I can tell you."
Hermione released a breath at hearing the positive news. Still, she wondered. Madame Pomfrey's reaction had made her suspicious. Was the child really going to be okay? Was Narcissa? What had surprised or shocked her? Had it merely been the confirmation of the pregnancy, of Voldemort's role in the child's genetic pool? Maybe…
Hermione was pulled out of her musings by her mother's hand on her upper back. She looked at Diane Granger, who merely nodded towards the bed, a small smile on her lips.
Hermione turned around, hopeful at her mother's expression. And indeed, blue eyes were tiredly staring back at her, full of surprise.
"H'mione," the blonde witch croaked out, her lips slowly curling up in a half-smile.
"I'll inform Madame Pomfrey," her mother whispered into Hermione's ear, squeezing her shoulder and leaving the two alone.
"Hey," Hermione's voice broke as she walked up to stand right next to the back, staring down at the older witch. Tears were sliding down her cheeks but she didn't even notice until a pale hand reached out to wipe them away.
"C'mere," Narcissa managed to say, patting the mattress.
Cautiously, so as not to disturb the healing body, Hermione sat down next to Narcissa, weakly smiling at her.
"I thought-"
"I know," the blonde said, giving Hermione a weak smile of her own. "I thought the same. But I'm not. I'm here. We both are."
Hermione nodded before she clasped one of the Pureblood's hands, holding onto it for dear life. "You should've told me."
Narcissa knew exactly what the young girl was talking about. She didn't need to ask. "There was nothing you could've done," she said, her voice low and saddened. "Is… is it?"
Hermione nodded. "It's alive and well."
Narcissa closed her eyes, taking in the news. Her child was all right. She hadn't lost her daughter. "Draco," she reopened her eyes, finding Hermione's. "I have to see him."
"I'll get him," the brunette girl squeezed her hand before letting go and reluctantly leaving Narcissa's side. "I lo-"
"Don't," the blonde's eyes were said as she stopped Hermione from saying the words, words she longed for and feared to hear at the same time. "Please don't."
Hermione closed her mouth again, looking down at her shoes. Then, after a forced smile at the recovering blonde, she left the hospital wing for the first time in two, almost three, days.
HGNBHGNBHGNBHGNBHGNBHGNBHGNBHGNBHGNBHGNB
"Mother!" Hermione arrived with Draco only five minutes later, having found the boy in the dungeons on his way up the stairs, headed for the hospital wing. He'd started to take the stairs two at once after hearing the good news.
Hermione walked into the room behind Draco, watching as the boy fiercely wrapped his arms around his mother, close to a breakdown. The Slytherin didn't care for many people but he did love his mother above everyone else.
"I know what they did to you," he gritted out after letting go of her. "I know what he did!" His fists clenched at his sides, his expression one of rage and hatred. "I will go and ki-"
"You will do no such thing, Draco Lucius Malfoy," Narcissa's voice was firm despite the effort it cost her. "I want you safe. With me. Don't look at me like this. I'm still your mother. I'm the same person I was when I took you to the train, I'm still the same."
"But mother-"
"No. I don't want you to see me as a victim, as a weak, damaged woman, Draco. Because if you do, you'll make me one. Can you do that for me?"
Draco nodded, hugging his mother once more. "You could never be weak."
"See?" Narcissa smiled at her son. "Now go and enjoy your day. I've been told it's Sunday and I don't want you spending your time in this old, dusty room. No backtalk. Now go."
And after a kiss to his mother's cheek, Draco left the room, giving a thankful nod to Granger as he walked past her.
Hermione stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do.
"Hermione," Diane stepped up to her child, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Your father is waiting for us. We're having lunch in the Great Hall and he's really excited. Will you show me the way? Introduce us to your friends?"
Hermione nodded, letting herself be led away from the one place she currently desired to be at.
As soon as the door had fallen shut behind the two Granger women, Poppy Pomfrey marched up to her patient, her hands stemmed into her hips. Then, she held a piece paper out to Narcissa. "I wonder if you could explain this to me, Mrs. Malfoy," she said, putting emphasis on the 'Mrs.'.
Narcissa took the paper and started to read, her eyebrows rising in shocked surprise.
'Patient: Narcissa Malfoy née Black
Age: 37
Gender: Female
Status of Pregnancy: Second Trimester, 22 weeks
Status of the Child: Healthy
Squib: No
Gender of the Child: Female
Child's Father: Hermione Jean Granger, Age 18'
AN: Well, most of you have wished for it, some of you hopefully suspected it. The child is Hermione's. I wonder how Narcissa, Hermione, her parents and her friends will react to the news. And Draco of course. What do you think will happen?