I don't own Harry Potter, people. Saaaad.
AN: So, I was listening to sappy music about babies (Fisher's "You") and thought, why not post another chapter? I have some extras lying around. Et voila. Amusez vous bien!
Hermione woke refreshed the next morning, her lips still tingling from the gentle, passionate kiss Draco had given her the previous night. Sunlight was streaming in the frosty panes of the windows and she rolled over and yawned before stretching some and settling back under the covers. She knew she should get up, but she'd been having the loveliest dream…what was it about again? Hmm, some strong, blond haired, grey-eyed young man holding her close and whispering sweet nothings in her ear…
She'd nearly drowsed off again when there was a knock on her chamber door and a few seconds later Narcissa Malfoy poked her head inside.
"Ah, sleeping in, dear?"
Without so much as a by your leave the woman marched into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. Hermione started to sit up, thought better of it, and put an arm behind her head. She stifled another yawn.
"And how late did you and Draco stay up last night?"
Hermione blushed and Narcissa laughed. "No need to be embarrassed, darling; my son is a good looking young man and I'd be shocked, honestly, if you hadn't spent part of the night letting him kiss you." She tucked the blankets in about Hermione and then sat back, looking both sad and smug. "Especially with the stress you're both under. It could be very relaxing."
Hermione gaped at her, then giggled and Narcissa's face broke into an easy smile. It lit her up and Hermione wasn't surprised to see that Draco's mother, stern and snobbish though she might seem, was truly a beautiful woman.
"You really care about me?" she asked impulsively and Narcissa's smile faded.
"Of course I do. You're not the first young witch to find herself in dire circumstances, you know. Besides which, even if your baby weren't my son's, he cares for you. And I'm not about to lose him just because you don't fit my image of his perfect girlfriend. There. That answer your question?"
Hermione nodded and finally sat up. She felt somewhat awkward, but Narcissa took her hands in her own and smiled again.
"Whatever happens, I'm here for him and you, my dear girl." The older witch stretched a hand to Hermione's face and cupped her cheek. "You know, I always wanted a daughter. I guess I never thought…" Her voice trailed off.
Hermione bit her lip and was about to respond when the tender moment was gone before she could even blink. Narcissa sat back again, her hand dropping to her lap and glanced about the room.
"Well, I believe Draco has some plans for you this afternoon, once you've eaten and we've had our lesson. Are you feeling up to it, still?"
Hermione nodded again and Narcissa exhaled and eyed the younger woman steadily. "Then I'd better let you get dressed. I'm glad you're with us, Hermione, and that we haven't frightened you off yet." She patted Hermione legs and then was up and out of the room once more. Hermione stared after her thoughtfully for a moment and finally, finally she slid her legs from under the covers and rose to greet the day.
Breakfast and lessons after passed uneventfully- successfully, even- and Hermione soon found herself back in her room, pulling on the beautiful coat and tucking her muffler about her neck. Draco walked in the open doorway and took her in before she noticed him. She was looking older than she had when they'd gotten off the train yesterday, but her shoulders were relaxed and eyes bright. So, whatever she felt about his news last night, she'd accepted it and wanted to move on.
"Sorry I wasn't at breakfast," he finally spoke and she turned towards him, shook her head.
"It's fine. I got up late."
"I know," he replied and they fell to silence. She smoothed the flounce of her coat nervously, then lifted her hands away and gave them a small shake before tugging on gloves.
"So, a walk?"
"That's right," he said. "All bundled up?"
"Mm-hmm," she murmured. She took his arm gingerly and they swept down the hall together, down the stairs and to the front door. "I didn't- I didn't thank you for fixing the coat," she said softly and he paused as he opened the door for her.
"You don't have to," he replied. "I'm glad you still want to wear it."
"Yes, it's-" she stopped, shrugged and walked outside, not bothering to finish her sentence. He didn't expect her to, honestly. He offered his arm again and she took it more swiftly this time. Then they fell into an easy rhythm of walking and chatting briefly about the snow, the cold, and the beautiful greenery. The sky was clear and blue after a small snowfall the night before and though their breath puffed out before them, the sun was shining brightly. Draco reached over with his free hand to tug Hermione's cap further about her ears and she laughed.
"Quit it."
"You have to stay warm," he said practically and she giggled again, batting away his hand.
"It's a beret, you'll make it look ridiculous-"
"It already looks ridiculous," he responded and she laughed more.
"Draco-"
"Hermione," he mimicked and then stopped short, pulling her back into his arms, and he kissed her solidly, right in the middle of the road.
"Draco," she breathed when he finally pulled away. Her nose was red, along with her cheeks and lips and he kissed her again.
This time she pulled away. "Draco, you can't just go about kissing me in the middle of the avenue-"
"I can do whatever I like," he said, brows raised in a dangerous expression. She shivered and smacked his arm, then tugged on it.
"Let's go, please?"
He was silent a moment longer, then grumbled his assent and they resumed walking. Hermione cuddled a little closer to his side, though, and the corners of his mouth curved up delightedly.
It was a beautiful day and despite their problems from last night, and all the problems yet to come, he suddenly felt as if none of it mattered. Because Hermione blushed when he kissed her and blushed when he held her hand and couldn't stop darting glances at his face and, oh, Merlin, was he in love.
"We're nearly there," he said over the sound of his heart beating in his ears. If he sounded a little nervous, Hermione didn't say anything.
Instead, she took in their surroundings. They were on the main street entering a small village- one not unlike Ottery St. Catchpole, or Hogsmeade. The sign over the post office door read proudly "Kington Eastley Postal Service." The streets were even and wide and buildings lined every side, with the occasional decorative shrubbery outside a doorway. The snow made it quite picturesque, with its gabled roofs; the steeple and arched windows upon the chapel; and the tower attached to the town hall, that rose over everything else. Being so close to Christmas, there were plenty of other couples, families and individuals wandering the avenue, bags of this and that in hand. Many shop windows were decorated for the season as well, complete with candles, twinkle lights and the smell of apples and cinnamon wafting out of every open door. Hermione tugged on Draco's arm, unable to help herself.
"Oh, look at that, Draco!" she said, pointing in delight at the display of handcrafted ornaments- glass, ceramics, and woodwork. Her smile softened as she spotted one in particular. Draco quirked a brow at her, then pulled his arm free.
"Don't move," he said and then he was gone from her side and opening the door of the craft shop.
Hermione watched from outside, hands thrust in her pockets for warmth, as Draco spoke to the man behind the counter. He in turn reached into the window display. The fellow gestured at the ornament she'd been eyeing and she nodded, despite her embarrassment. Draco must've said something as well, because the man smiled brightly and pulled a second one from the tree. Less than a minute later, Draco was back outside, a bag in hand.
"What was that?" she asked and he shrugged.
"You wanted that one, didn't you?" he replied and she took the bag, nodding and gazing into it. Very gently, she pulled the ornament from its tissue paper and inspected it up close.
A tiny pair of ceramic pink booties, the laces hand painted with fluffy pink poms glued on to match, and an attached tag that read, "Baby's First Christmas." If Hermione had been concerned about what her heart was doing around Draco Malfoy, she knew now. It was melting, utterly and completely. No wonder she'd been so upset the previous night. Not only was she learning to trust him, she was doing more than pretending to fall in love. She really was in love. Hell's bells.
She lifted her eyes to his and managed a smile. "Thank you. Are you sure I can't pay-"
"Better put it back so it doesn't get damaged," he replied, ignoring her gratitude and attempt at independence. He held open the tissue paper and she nestled it back in place before he wrapped it and put it into the bag.
"What's the other one?" she asked and he merely raised an eyebrow again.
"Hermione, you have to allow me some secrets."
She rolled her eyes at him, but let it drop and he took her arm again, the bag in his other hand.
"You don't have to keep being so nice," she murmured after some more minutes of walking, leaning close to him. Her warm breath on his jaw made him tingle all over and he tightened his grip on her arm. Oh, Merlin. She really thought he was just still being nice? Only nice? And after that kiss last night, and the kisses in Paris and crying on her shoulder- she still thought he was playing a part.
"What do you think this is, Hermione?" he suddenly whispered, stopping in the shelter of some awning along a storefront. "Your coat, an ornament- yeah, buying you those things is nice. Spending time with you because we're both lonely and it pisses off your friends is selfish. Risking my life for you is even noble. But don't you think we're a little past just plain old nice? I'm not kissing you every chance I get for my bloody health, Hermione."
She gaped and drew back a little. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks again. "That's not- what I mean is- oh, hell."
"Oh hell is right," he replied and tugged her into a nearby tea shop. "Come on. I'm not discussing this on an empty stomach."
"Now you sound like Ron," she said wryly and he glanced back at her as he pulled out her chair.
"I meant your empty stomach, Hermione," he muttered and she glared at him, but it didn't hold much malice. She took the seat he indicated and they set about ordering sandwiches and tea. Only once the food had been brought and largely consumed did Draco set his cup down and watch Hermione polish off the last crumbs of cake.
"I wish you'd let me pay for some of-"
"Ah-ah," Draco cut her off. "It's rude to question my need to provide for you."
"You-" Hermione tried again, but stopped and sighed instead. "Fine. What, exactly, do you think we need to discuss?"
Draco had the grace to look uncomfortable and he leaned back in his seat, propping his chin on one hand.
Only Draco Malfoy could make an awkward talk about feelings look sexy, Hermione thought. She finished off her tea while she waited for him to say something. After all, he was the boy. He had better say it first- especially in a situation like this one. She wasn't about to tell the man who was only pretending to be her baby's father (no matter how wonderful he'd been) that she loved him first. That was asking for trouble. In fact, saying they loved one another at all was asking for trouble.
"Look, Hermione. Don't think I want to be having this conversation. I don't. This is the last thing I ever thought I'd be doing with you."
Now that was interesting.
"Even after snogging me or shagging with me?" she asked bluntly and he gave a small jerk.
"Merlin, Hermione."
"Just pointing out the obvious."
"Alright, fine, even after those things. But this is not what I wanted to talk about."
"Your sexual fantasies?"
"Hermione!"
"Draco!" Hermione responded, mockingly. "Ok then, what did you want to say?"
He grew serious again and eyed her quietly for a moment. "I need you to understand that I'm not just doing all this out of some ethical compunction. The truth is, weeks in a broom closet does things to a man."
Hermione raised a brow and inspected the china in an effort to keep from snorting and laughing.
"Oh? And what might those things be?"
"Bloody hell-"
"Draco, you're being very sweet and wonderful, really, most of the time- and you've finally trusted me with the truth, which, believe me, does more for my opinion of you than any amount of snogging. But I just don't see how our feelings for one another can matter right now."
"So you do have feelings for me?"
"Oh, I have all sorts of feelings for you, Draco. Which ones might you mean?"
He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut briefly. "The ones involving that miserly, bookish heart of yours belonging to me."
Hermione looked at him sharply and felt her breath catch. "Those."
"Yes, those." His face suddenly fell. "That is, if they exist, I'd very much like to know about them. Because, ah, I'm afraid I've probably fallen in love with you, but you're having this baby and I'm just a convenience, really-"
Hermione bit her lip and stared determinedly at the tablecloth.
"That was a really poor excuse for a confession of love," she murmured.
"I know," he replied. He took a deep breath and looked to her again. "Hermione, I love you. I don't know how it happened, or why, but it has and I'm asking you-"
"Yes," she said. She lifted her eyes to his. "Yes. I feel the same way." Her voice was barely a whisper and he leaned forward over the table.
"You do!" he barked and then, with a guilty glance at the disturbed patrons about them, he quieted down. "You do- Hermione-"
"Please, let's not talk about it any longer, Draco."
"Why not?"
"Because, nothing can happen! I mean, I know this is what we want people to think, but for right now seeing this baby make it into the world safely is the only thing we should be focusing on."
"But if our feelings are part of the plan-"
"That's just it," she hissed, standing up. "They aren't. Not our real feelings, anyhow. Only the false ones, the pretend ones. No one cares how we really feel about each other. We can't afford to, either. Not until…"
"Until the baby is born," he finished for her. She shook her head sadly.
"Until the war is over," she corrected, then strode from the shop. Draco stared after her, too stunned to move for several seconds. Then he finally shook himself, put some money on the table, and went after her.
AN: Man, it's fluff city up there. Holy heck.