A couple of things :)
Again...overwhelmed by all of the positive reviews. I was for certain people would throw things through the internet at me. Lemon scenes aren't my forte in the slightest. I know I've spoiled you all with daily updates, but I have to warn you that they may be lessening to a couple of times a week. I do work for a living on top of school, but I promise that my spare time is devoted to this story. I didn't have a plan when I started writing, and as I've said - I've been posting them as I've written them. I don't know where the story is going to go or how it will end, so it's been fun for me as well.
I hope you enjoy this chapter (it's a long one). Also...still sans beta, so I thank you for not pointing out all the things wrong with it. It's embarrassing enough when I catch them (lol).
Hermione promised a hex of unlimited magnitude on the next person that asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday. A week away from twenty three, she didn't see any need for anyone to get wild and crazy about it. It was just another day. She knew Draco wanted to do something special for her, and as appreciative as she was of his need to exhibit a gesture of sorts, Hermione was perfectly happy to do nothing but spend time with him, Harry, Ginny, and James. Sitting at her desk, she reclined in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. Kingsley named her as the representative for the Tri-Wizard Tournament taking place next fall when she started working three weeks ago. Currently she sat listening to the French and Bulgarian Ministry Representatives, Mr. Barre and Mr. Eschkov, duke it out over which school should host the tournament. Kingsley made it no secret that he wanted it at Hogwarts. He wanted the school to have a chance to redeem itself, seeing it to be the first tournament since Cedric Diggory was viscously killed.
As the gentlemen continued to tear into each other as to why their countries were insufficient to hold such a tournament, she made a list on a scrap piece of parchment of all the things she needed to quit putting off. Things such as visiting Molly and Arthur, meeting with her parents' attorney who had been incessantly calling her the past week, and finding an apartment. Hermione didn't want to look for an apartment, but she didn't want to assume that Draco was fine with them being…whatever it was that they were at the moment, while also living together. She added talk to Draco - living arrangements to her list. Of course, he couldn't be too bothered by it, considering it was his room they slept in every night, but still - it was improper of her to assume.
She grabbed the letter opener from a jar on her desk, pointing it towards the yelling coming from the speaker phone. Stabbing both Barre and Eschkov were sounding particularly delightful at the moment as they argued over lowering the age limit. Barre wanted it set at sixteen, Eschkov wanted it to be open to anyone third year and higher.
"Are you bloody insane, Mr. Eschkov?" Hermione shrieked, cutting both of the men off. "A third year is hardly equipped with a third of the knowledge necessary to prevent him or her from getting killed, let alone finishing the first task!"
"Ms. Granger," Mr. Eschkov's voice groused through the phone. "Some schools prepare their students differently than others."
"What exactly are you saying?" Mr. Barre shouted.
"My students at Durmstrang are more than equipped to perform magic acceptable enough for a tournament of this caliber by their third year."
"Bollocks," Hermione spit out. "Viktor Crum was seventeen and was not what anyone would call the brightest bulb in the box - he'd been a wizard long enough to know a few charms and he had freak brute strength but even then he didn't make it to the end - Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory did! Besides - the competition isn't a test of strength and knowledge - it is emotionally tasking - a third year does not possess the proper mechanisms to emotionally handle such challenges."
"The tournament only rolls around every three years - setting an age limit reduces the chances of deserving students to rightfully compete for the eternal glory - "
"Please!" Hermione screeched. "No one wants eternal glory! If the greatest thing anyone ever does is win a bloody cup, then he or she leads a pathetic existence. Neither of you were at the last tournament - and neither of you witnessed the horrors of Cedric Diggory's body lying on the ground. While his death was a result of Voldermort - not the tournament - it still scarred those who were there. If we are going to bring this tournament back, we will do so properly and we will do so with appropriate precautions in place! The age limit will stand at seventeen and if I hear any more about this from either of you I will personally apparate to your offices and pummel you with a broomstick!"
The silence of both men on the other end led her to believe that she had made her point. She continued on, telling them that in order to decide who would host the tournament, a committee should be formed of both Ministry officials, students, and professors of each host school and tours of each location would be conducted before the committee voted on the most appropriate venue.
Unbeknownst to her sat Kingsley, Draco, and Harry outside of her office. Kingsley could hardly contain from silently pumping his fist every time Hermione made a point that the other two seemed to agree with. Draco wasn't wild about the Tri-Wizard Tournament being her first assignment back. He thought the task was too stressful for someone who was trying to sort out a mountain of other issues, but Hermione always shushed him when he brought it up.
"Watch me get put on this bloody committee," Harry muttered as he heard her words.
"Well, you are the last Tri-Wizard Champion," Kingsley said.
"Because I needed the reminder," Harry shot back.
"Point taken," Kingsley acquiesed.
Wrapping up her conversation, Hermione stabbed the button to hang up the phone with the sharp end of her quill. The next time she talked to those numbskulls would be too soon in her opinion. She went back to her list, adding things like a haircut, a healer appointment, and a trip to the dentist on her list. "Come in," she said when she heard a rapping in her door, not even bothering to look up.
"Ms. Granger," Kingsley greeted.
Immediately, Hermione jumped up. "Mr. Minister," she said with a nod. She saw Draco and Harry walk in behind him. "Gentlemen."
"Hermione, what is it going to take for you to call me Kingsley?"
She gave him a polite smile. "I will be more than happy to call you as such outside of the office, Mr. Minister."
Kingsley shook his head with a smile. "Always the proper one. Just wanted to pop by and see how your conference call went, but I must admit I caught some of it while waiting. Keep up the good work."
Hermione smiled. "Thank you. It won't be easy with those two, but I'm certain we can find a fair resolution if we are to bring back the tournament."
"Forgive me," Kingsley said to her, "but it sounds as if you aren't a fan of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Do you have reservations about bringing it back?"
Hermione nodded. "I do, but they are entirely of a personal nature, none of which are grounds to eliminate the tournament completely. It's a tradition of the wizarding world, and if we are to bring it back, all I wish for is that it is executed properly."
"Which is why you are perfect for the job," Kingsley replied. "I'll be going now - just wanted to say hello to my favorite employee."
"Hey!" Draco and Harry said in unison.
Hermione giggled as Kingsley shook his head. "You know neither of you will ever hold a candle to Ms. Granger. Best you accept it now. Good day."
Harry rolled his eyes as Kingsley left the office while Draco walked to where Hermione stood. He lightly kissed her lips, which she returned just as sweetly. "You're so hot, bossing international ministry men around," he whispered in her ear.
Swatting him away, she laughed. "Draco!" she hissed.
"You two better be behaving," Harry warned with a grin.
"I make no promises," Draco replied. He saw the piece of parchment she'd be making a list on. When he saw her familiar scrawl with the words living arrangement, he felt a lump in his throat as his mind began to race. Did she not like living with him? Was she upset that he led her into his room every night? He thought things were going well for Merlin's sake! He looked up at her, her eyes fixed on Harry.
"What's wrong?" she asked Harry.
Harry dug a coin with a protean charm cast upon it, flipping it over to see what it said. "It's Ginny."
"Is she alright?" Hermione asked.
Harry's usual focus was slipping. "I…she had an appointment at St. Mungo's. I said, I said I'd go, but she said it was real quick. Nothing more than a few minutes, something about picking up a potion."
"Oh shit," Draco said.
Harry was frozen in place, his face white as a sheet. "Harry, go!" Hermione cried.
"Yeah, yeah, I just, I need -"
"Harry Potter go to your wife this instant!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Damn it Hermione - just give me a bloody minute!" Harry barked back.
Draco watched Harry, assuming he was running through every worst case scenario, much like he was doing a moment ago with Hermione. He looked at her. "Go to Molly's," he instructed. "Get James. I'm going with Potter." Hermione opened her mouth to protest the plan, but Draco cut her off, a bit more harshly than he intended. "Hermione go!"
Before Hermione could pull her tote from the bottom drawer of her desk, Draco had apparated Harry out of her office. She knew something awful must have happened - Harry gave both of them a coin once the war was over, instructing them both to use it for emergencies - a panic coin of sorts. The Dark Lord may have been defeated, but Harry's guard was never down when it came to Ginny and Hermione. Walking out of her office, she informed her secretary to contact Kingsley to let him know the situation. Steeling her nerves, because she had no time to think about herself, she pictured the Burrow in her mind and before she knew it, the uncomfortable pull in the pit of her stomach took over her.
She landed, albeit unsteady in her heels, in the front yard of the Burrow. The first thing she saw was Ron, pulling, spinning, and tossing gnomes out of his mother's garden. James cheered and clapped with delight with the release of each gnome.
"You better be making them good and dizzy, Ronald Weasley!" she heard Molly shrilly shout - most likely from the window of her kitchen. "Unlike the last time, considering they all found their way back!"
He doesn't look much different," she thought to herself as he cringed, making the face he usually made when Molly admonished him. A bit of a gut, most likely from his beer induced chats about the glory days, but other than that, he was Ron.
This wasn't going to be hard. She was going to get James and Molly and take them to St. Mungo's. Ginny needed her mother, and Harry needed his son. She summoned all the Gryffindor courage she had left in her body and walked towards the house. James spotted her first, running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards her. "Aunt Hermione! Uncle Ron is catching gnomes! Come see!"
She knelt down as he reached her, completely out of breath. Hermione picked him up and set him on her hip. "Gnomes, huh?" she asked, trying to mimic his enthusiasm. She didn't want to scare him much. Much like his father, James had the ability to worry himself sick if given the proper tools. "Where's Grandma Molly?"
"Inside," James said. He leaned closer to her face. "She's knitting me a new jumper. I heard her tell Mummy, but I don't want to wear it 'cause it'll be super itchy!"
Hermione kissed his temple. "I'm sure with a bit of magic, we can un-itchy it."
"Boy I hope so," James replied. "Cause Mummy says it'll hurt her feelings if I don't wear it. I don't want to make Grandma Molly sad."
Walking towards the house, James still on her hip, she rubbed his back. "I'm sure we can think of something."
"That's what Daddy always says," James replied.
If Ron noticed her, Hermione didn't notice. She kept her eyes straight on the house, not even bother to acknowledge his presence. There was a time and place to deal with Ron, and this moment wasn't anywhere close to that time. Opening the door, Hermione suppressed the emotions that threatened her existence as the smell and familiarity of the Burrow took over her senses. "Molly?" she called out.
The frumpy, redheaded woman appeared from around the corner, wiping her hands on her apron. Her eyes went wide. "Oh my goodness child!" Molly exclaimed, wrapping Hermione up in a tight hug. "I was wondering when you'd visit me! It most certainly took you long enough!"
She mustered a smile. "It is so good to see you," she said. "I've missed you…so much."
"Ginny says you've gotten yourself a job at the Ministry - that's fantastic news," Molly said, ushering her towards the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Come to think of it - why aren't you at work?"
Before she could say anything, Ron burst through the door, startling James. "No running in the house!" James shouted at his uncle, the way his own grandmother shouted to him and his cousins.
"You seriously…show up at my house…and ignore me?" Ron gasped in between breaths.
"You honestly think I would have shown up at your house willingly knowing you're here?" Hermione spat, shifting James to her other hip. He went to open his mouth, but ultimately shut it. "I thought so." She didn't want to scare James, but as she looked at Molly, she knew Molly knew something was wrong. Hermione picked her words carefully, so not to scare James. "We were at work today, and Harry's protean charmed coin…it got hot."
She knew Molly was aware of Ginny's doctor's appointment, considering James was at her house. Her face filled with worry in a way that Hermione had only seen a few times before she shook her head. "Ronald - contact your father. Tell him to meet us at St. Mungo's."
"What?"
"Ronald!" Molly yelled. "Do what I say before I hex you into the next century!" Ron jumped before scurrying off to do as his mother instructed.
James began to sniffle. "Grandma, what's wrong?" he asked, reaching for her.
Molly took her grandson and rest her chin on the top of his head. "Nothing dear. We just have to go see your Daddy." Hermione followed Molly as they made their way to the floo. "James doesn't apparate well, so we should floo over."
"Of course," Hermione said. "I'll be right behind you."
Draco and Harry found the maternity ward quickly upon apparating into the admissions area, the lovely elderly lady pointing them in the right direction once she saw the looks on both of their faces. Draco made his way to a healer station, catching the attention of a young nurse.
"We're looking for Ginny Potter," he said rather abruptly.
The young nurse looked over; acutely aware she was in the presence of the one and only Harry Potter. Her blond hair was in a braided ponytail, and in Draco's personal opinion, didn't look old enough to be a nurse. Then again, not everyone got to grow up as fast as he did. Some children were allowed to enjoy their youth, thus preserving it in their appearance. "Um, ok, yes," she stuttered, looking for Ginny's chart.
"Today!" Draco heard Harry shout.
He braced a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Nurse…"
The nurse pulled the chart labeled POTTER. "I'm Nurse Akers, but um, you can call me Hadley. I can show you a waiting room, the healer should be - "
Harry looked at the nurse, and Draco could see his patience was gone. "I want to see my wife immediately. Something is wrong, and I need to see her."
"I know," Nurse Akers said quickly. "I'm going to go find her healer right now. But you have to wait. Please. Follow me."
Draco squeezed his shoulder. His nerves were on edge, but he wasn't about to show it. "Come on, Potter."
The two followed the nurse and her bouncy blond braids down the hall into a private visitor's room, filled with chairs and couches. Slouching down on the first couch he found, he leaned over, his head between his knees, kneading his hands in his hair. Draco paced around the room. Ten minutes passed, and there wasn't any sight of a healer, or Hermione with Molly and James. He yanked at the knot in his tie, completely pulling it undone.
A door opened, both of their heads snapping towards the direction of the sound. An older man walked in, clad in healer robes. "Mr. Potter," he said, extending his hand to shake Harry's, who obliged reflexively. He was the same healer Ginny had been seeing since they found out she was pregnant with James. The healer looked over at Draco. "Could you give us a moment?"
"He can stay," Harry said. "Draco - Healer Darwish. Healer Darwish, Draco Malfoy."
Healer Darwish gave Draco a curt nod. "Very well. As you know, Ginny came by today to pick up a potion for her high blood pressure." Harry nodded, encouraging him to continue. "As I was examining her, she mentioned she was feeling signs of a false labor this morning - "
"She didn't say anything to me," Harry cut him off. "I asked her this morning how she was doing like I always do and she said felt great - never better. Her exact words."
Healer Darwish nodded. "Women will do that, as to not worry their husbands. What seems like minor pain to them would have most of us men doubled over. Regardless - she was definitely experiencing pre-term labor. Her water hasn't broke, but she is dilated nearly five centimeters. We ran some tests, and if your son came early, it wouldn't be the worst thing - all the tests the nurses ran showed fully developed lungs. I think she was farther along than we initially thought so if he were born today, he'd just be slightly on the small side. A little over five pounds."
"Ok…" Harry said.
Draco was now standing next to him, arms crossed against his chest. "Will she have the baby today then?"
"Well…that's what we're trying to decide," Healer Darwish stated. "So far we've slowed her labor. If we give her potions to suspend it entirely until she is ready, it puts your wife at risk."
"What are you bloody waiting for then!" Draco shouted.
Harry removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's Ginny," he said, putting his glasses back on his face.
"Indeed," Healer Darwish said. "If you come with me, I'll take you to her so you can discuss this."
Harry looked to Draco. "Wait here? Tell the others?"
"Go," Draco said.
As Harry followed the healer to Ginny, Draco collapsed in the nearest chair. Sometimes, when he found himself in emotional situations such as this, he wondered if this was why his father was void of the entire feeling. It was overwhelming to feel so much at once. It was exhausting being this version of himself. Then again, the benefits outweighed the alternative. He heard the door open again, and as he looked up, he saw Molly walk in, carrying James, with Hermione behind her. Draco loved the black and white print wrap dress she was wearing, so much in fact he tried to unwrap her this morning to show her, though she successfully thwarted his efforts. He stood up and Hermione walked straight to him, wrapping an arm around him. He pulled her close, kissing the side of her head. "She's going to be fine," Draco said.
Molly put James down and handed him some toys to play with out of her purse while Draco explained everything the healer said. Moments later, Arthur Weasley appeared, with Ron in tow. Draco recounted the story to the Weasley men, ignoring the fact that had Ron's eyes been lasers, he would have looked like Swiss cheese. He couldn't help but hold Hermione a little tighter each time he caught Ron's glare.
"I'm sure Harry will talk some sense into her," Arthur said, reassuring his wife. "Because the healer said the baby would be fine." He looked to Draco to confirm his words.
"Just a little bit smaller than most," Draco said to Molly. "Why don't you all sit down? I'm sure Harry will be back in a minute, and if he can't change her mind, well, we can each give it a go."
Ron scoffed, everyone's attention turning to him. "Like hell - you going near my sister."
"Your sister happens to be a good friend of mine," Draco said, his words pointed, his tone even. He could see James watching the adults out of the corner of his eye.
Ron threw a hand in the air at his general direction. "And this? Anyone want to explain what the bloody hell this is?"
"Now is neither the time nor the place, Ronald," Hermione admonished, still holding onto Draco.
"Since when does Hermione Granger not talk about something?" Ron sneered.
Hermione went to speak but Draco beat her to the punch. "Watch your tone, Weasley." He let go of Hermione and took her hand, leading her to the opposite end of the room, sitting down on a couch. Hermione sat next to him, crossing one leg over the other. "You alright?" he asked quietly, holding her hand.
She nodded. She was surprisingly fine. Whatever emotional meltdown she'd come to expect of herself as of late was currently nowhere to be seen, and Hermione wasn't about to knock it. "Are you worried?" she asked.
"About Gin? Nah. Potter will talk some sense into her - and everything will be fine." He hoped it would be fine, that is. He certainly wasn't going to speculate otherwise.
James walked over to them, carrying a toy dragon one hand and a toy truck Hermione got him in New York in the other. Draco helped James climb into his lap. "Uncle Draco, if a dragon fought against a truck, who do you think would win?"
Draco chuckled. James always had the best questions. "I'm not sure."
"Cause dragons can breathe lots of fire. Uncle Charlie says so."
"But trucks can run things over," Draco countered.
James pondered the thought momentarily. "It'd probably be a tie then." Crawling off of Draco's lap, he walked over to his grandfather, who willingly picked him up, showering him with kisses.
Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder. She sensed something was wrong with him, not having anything to do with Ginny. When he yelled at her to go to the Burrow to fetch Molly, there was a bite in his tone she hadn't heard this version of him use. Old Draco - yes. It was a staple of his demeaning personality. But not this Draco. Sighing, she squeezed his hand as she noticed him looking everywhere but her.
"I've upset you," she said, plainly.
"You didn't."
"Then look at me."
He looked at her, and she sat up, still holding his hand. "We can talk about it later," Draco said, nodding in Ron's direction. "Not here."
She nodded. "Can I at least have a kiss?"
Draco cracked a wry smile. "In front of the Weasel? Absolutely." He caught her lips with his, letting his little public display of affection last a bit longer than he usually would. Breaking away, he looked to Ron, who appeared to be as red as the unruly mop he called hair. Suddenly, Harry came through the door, looking as furious as he'd ever seen him.
"She's barking mad, that woman," Harry spit out. "She wants to wait. Nevermind of course, what I want, which is for her to be safe, but no - you can't convince her. Absolutely not. Let's do everything Ginerva's way, because she sees no other way!"
The room sat in stunned silence, letting Harry collect his thoughts. James crawled from Arthur's lap to his father's, cuddling into his chest, comforting his father the only way he knew how. Harry wrapped his arms around the child, slowly rocking back and forth.
"Harry," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "Do you want me to try?"
"I'll talk to her," Ron interjected, boasting as if he was to be perceived as the savior of all things Weasley. "She's my sister."
Harry looked up at Draco. "You go."
Draco pointed to himself.
Harry nodded.
Hermione gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he stood. "I guess I'll be back," he said, popping the button at the top of his shirt. He pulled the dark green tie hanging from his neck and handed it to Hermione.
Once Draco was gone, Hermione stiffened a bit. The room was filled with so much tension to the point that it was almost unbearable. James began to fuss, sensing something wrong. "Daddy - I want to see Mummy," he whimpered.
Harry rubbed his son's back. "You can see her in a bit."
"No Daddy, now!"
"James," Arthur said, clearing his throat as he stood. "I believe I saw an ice cream trolley in the cafeteria on my way in. Would you like to go get some?"
James looked at his grandfather, narrowing his eyes. "With sprinkles?"
"Most definitely." That was enough for James, stretching his arms for his grandfather. "Come along, Molly," he said, holding his free hand out to Molly. "You three do your best not to kill one another while we're gone," Arthur instructed as the three walked out of the waiting room.
No one said anything for about five minutes, each of them as far apart from each other as they possibly could be. Hermione wanted to comfort Harry, but knew it best to let him sit alone. Instead, she and Ron shot each other menacing glances. The silence was nearly suffocating inside the dully decorated room.
Ron was the first to speak. "Harry - tell Hermione she's out of her bloody mind, doing whatever she's doing with Malfoy."
Harry glared at his friend. "I will do no such thing. Draco is good for her. He cares for her."
"Have you gone barking mad? It's Malfoy we're talking about. Death Eater? Follower of Voldermort? Any of this ringing a bell?"
"Unlike you, Ronald," Hermione said. "People change."
"Oh really?" Ron asked sarcastically. "Tell me, Hermione, have you changed? Do you no longer tell people what to do, or show them that you always think you have the answer to everything?" He stood up and walked towards her. "Do you tell Draco how much he isn't like the great Harry Potter, and all the things he could do be like Harry Potter?"
"Watch it, Ron," Harry warned.
"Well?" Ron asked, stopping short of Hermione. "Answer me!"
"I don't have anything to say to you, Ronald Weasley," Hermione replied. "Quite frankly, there's a high level of emotion running rampant in this room right now, and you'd do best to back away from me before you say something you regret. In fact - do us all a favor and leave. It's the only thing you're good at."
A harsh laugh escaped Ron's mouth. Harry stood up and walked closer to Hermione, yet still keeping a fair bit of distance. "You're one to talk about leaving."
"Oh please," Hermione said, fidgeting with Draco's tie as she glared at her former friend. "You left me long before I decided to leave for New York."
"Well with all your crying, could you honestly blame a guy? Again - you acted as if you were the only person to lose someone."
"That's enough, Ron," Harry said, eerily calm for Hermione's liking.
His words pulled at the threads of her emotional core where she once kept her feelings for Ron. Nearly unraveled, Hermione refused to give him the satisfaction of letting Ron see his words getting to her. "You know what, Harry," Ron said. "We probably would have had a proper go at it, had you not been around all the bloody time trying to save her."
"Someone had to!" Harry shouted. "It should have been you - but you were too busy retelling stories that no one else wanted to hear!"
"People wanted to hear them!" Ron screeched.
"Not the ones that mattered!" Harry spit back.
Ron balled his hands into fists. "You know what, Harry? How about you go and worry about my sister, instead of always putting Hermione first. How 'bout give that a go for once in your holier than thou existence -"
Draco knocked lightly on the door to Ginny's room, announcing himself wordlessly as he walked inside. Ginny was propped up on a bed, flipping through a wizard gossip magazine. "You honestly read that filth?" he teased, shutting the door as he leaned against it.
"I'm going to need something to do until the baby's born," Ginny simply stated. "Bed rest and all." She flipped through the pages so quickly that it appeared to Draco that she merely needed something to do with her hands. "You aren't talking me out of it, either."
Draco held his hands up for a moment before shoving them into his pockets. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"Right. Like my husband didn't send you in here to 'make me see reason' as he put it."
"Maybe I was just worried about my friend," Draco replied. "Your husband, by the way, has been a mess since you called for him with that charm."
Ginny looked at Draco. He could see her eyes were wet, but he could see she was practically willing herself to do anything but cry. "Babies born to witches early have a higher chance of being squibs. Did you know that? They have to stay inside their mother as long as possible!"
"You honestly think anyone is worried about you producing a squib?" Draco asked. "You're as powerful of a witch as your mother, and the rest of that kid's genetics are coming from Wonderboy down the hall. The only thing you should be concerned about is that kid coming out with red hair, because the thought of seeing a redheaded Albus running around is just wrong."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're horrid."
"You're hormonal," Draco countered. "The healer already said if your baby was born today, he'd be fine. Just a bit on the small side. It's not like he won't grow."
"What if something happens to the baby?" Ginny asked. "What if he's born today and something happens to him? I could never live with myself."
"What if something happens to you?" Draco asked, tersely. "You think Harry will know what to do without you? Because he won't. He loves you and is worried sick. What about James? He's already asking to see his mum because he knows something is wrong. Even the Healer is more worried about you than he is about delivering a baby today."
Ginny sighed. "If something were to ever happen to me – which it won't – Hermione would know what to do."
"Ginny. If those two were ever left to their own devices again, there would be an emotional meltdown of magnificent proportions," Draco said with a snort. "So let's do the ones we love a favor and prevent that from happening as best we can, eh?"
He watched as she rubbed her hands over her protruding belly. "I feel like I'm a horrible mother if I let him come today," she admitted. "Harry doesn't understand that. I feel…I need to protect him, and if he's born today -"
"Harry understands if something happens to you he'll have two children without a mother – a life he's a bit too familiar with."
Ginny kept her hands on her belly. "You said you loved her a minute ago. Don't think I didn't hear it."
Draco made a face, scratching the underneath of his chin nervously. "Yes, well, even if I did say it, I think she wants to move out."
"She doesn't," Ginny replied.
"She was making a list today in her office. I saw it. On the list – living arrangements."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Have you talked about your living arrangement?"
"What is there even to talk about – she lives there. I like it. It's not exactly conventional, with how it all happened, but I'm fine with."
"Talk to her," Ginny instructed. "More importantly, tell her. Her only relationship experience is with Ron – not exactly Mr. Sensitivity if you get what I'm saying. You want her to stay – bloody tell her."
The two stared at each other, both of them as stubborn as they came. A peculiar friendship from the get go, what Draco appreciated most about her was that Ginny had no filter. She said what she thought, and as irritating as it was most days, she was usually right. Some days, Draco felt as if it was part of his penance to be surrounded by women like Ginny and Hermione; women who could nag him into submission if they tried hard enough, or who were consistently right about most everything, much to both his and Harry's dismay.
"Have the baby, Gin."
"If something happens – "
"Nothing will happen," Draco said. He felt fairly confident in the healer's assessment, but the more confidence he could muster for her sake, the better. "Potter has paid his dues to society in that regard – the baby, you – everyone will be fine as long as you do what the healer says and have the baby."
A tear escaped Ginny's eye. "I'm scared."
"You're secret is safe with me," Draco promised. "Now can I please go get your husband and tell him you've come to your senses? I'm sure he's crawling up a wall right now."
"Cursing my name, I'm sure," she said, smiling as she sniffled. "Draco?" He turned to the door, his hand on the doorknob. Draco looked back over his shoulder. "She loves you too," Ginny said.
"I hope you're right," Draco admitted.
"I am. Now go." She shooed him away, rubbing circles around her belly. "Get my bloody husband. The sooner we get this show on the road the sooner you'll get to meet your godson."
Godfather. Harry and Ginny chose him. Not one of the other Weasley brothers, but him. Draco was going to be a godfather. He couldn't have wiped the smirk from his face if he tried, trotting down the hall. He heard Ron shouting as he approached the waiting room. Yelling meant James wasn't in the room. Yelling meant Arthur and Molly left the three of them alone, which he wasn't sure was all that brilliant of an idea with the varying emotions of the once tightly knit friendship. He opened the door right as Ron got in Harry's face.
"You know what, Harry? How about you go and worry about my sister, instead of always putting Hermione first. How 'bout you give that a go for once in your holier than thou existence – "
Hermione screamed as Harry hauled off and sucker punched Ron right in the jaw, knocking him directly on his ass. "Harry!"
Draco watched as Harry stood over him, fist still clenched as Ron held his jaw with a hand. "Don't you ever talk to me about my wife again."
"Harry -" Draco said, trying to get his attention as his friend shook the stinging sensation from his hand. "Ginny wants you. She's ready."
A grin escaped his lips for a moment, only to be removed as he heard Ron wincing as he continued to lie on the floor. Harry walked over to Draco, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what you did. But thank you."
"It wasn't much," Draco said. He nodded in the direction of Ron. "What was that?"
"Something I should have done years ago," Harry stated.
Draco never met a more proud man than Harry Potter, who carried his new bundle around Ginny's room, introducing him to his family. Ginny rested in bed, James snuggled up to her side. Everyone but Ron, who scurried off after he and Harry's row, had their turn to hold the tiny newborn – a hair over five pounds, each of them remarking at how much he looked like James when he was a baby. Albus Severus was the only the second baby Draco had ever held. As he stood in awe of this infant, letting the tiniest fingers he'd ever seen hold onto his finger, Draco realized it was possible to know what it felt like to hold pure love. If this was how other people's babies made him feel, he could hardly imagine what it would be like to have children of his own. Preferably children with big brown eyes and button noses like their mother's.
He held Albus close to his chest while watching Harry in bed next to Ginny. He watched as he whispered into her ear, and how all she could do was respond with a squeeze of his hand and a heartfelt kiss. Harry whispered how much he loved her as she dropped her head on his shoulder. The Healer came into the room and did a final quick inspection of his two patients before informing everyone that Ginny and Albus needed rest. Molly showered her daughter with kisses before picking up a now sleeping James to take him back to the Burrow. Arthur shook the hand of Harry's that was without a bandage and dropped a kiss on his daughter's cheek.
"Come to the Burrow for a proper visit," Molly said to Hermione, giving her a hug as best she could while holding her sleeping grandson.
Hermione nodded. "I will pop over next week."
"I just remembered! Your birthday is next week!" Molly exclaimed softly. "We should have a party!"
Molly would remember my birthday, Hermione thought to herself. "Please don't go to the trouble," she begged. "It's really unnecessary."
Molly waved a hand in her face. "Nonsense. We'll have a party and that's settled. See you next week!"
At least Ginny can say she comes by her blatant disregard for people's opinions honestly, Draco thought, laughing to himself. He took the sleeping infant over to his mother, carefully handing him to her. "He's perfect," he told her.
Ginny gave Draco a smirk. "Of course he is. He's my son."
Hermione walked over, playfully nudging Draco out of the way as she outstretched her arms, wrapping her friends in her arms. "Call us if you need anything at all," she said.
"We will," Harry promised. "And uh, Hermione?"
"Yes?"
He gave her a wink. "You did good today."
She knew what he was referring to. Nodding towards the baby and his wife, she placed a hand over her heart. "Maybe, but you did better."
Leaving their friends, Draco reached for Hermione's hand and led her out of the hospital. It was a lovely fall evening, as the leaves began to slowly change their colors with September nearing its end. The two strolled along together, silently, down the streets. With St. Mungo's cleverly disguised as an ordinary building in muggle London, Draco's house wasn't too far of a walk away. It had been a long day for the both of them, but neither of them complained, considering the end result.
Hermione shivered against the crisp fall night, and Draco shed his suit jacket. Draping it over her shoulders, he wrapped an arm around her waist as they continued to walk in step. He thought about his conversation with Ginny, and how he felt when he saw that she wanted to talk to him about moving out. Draco was afraid to talk about it with her, fearing her answer. She had to know he cared for her at the very least. In the few short weeks the two began sharing a bed, her nightmares were less frequent. He loved how they woke up in the mornings tangled up in each other.
"Can we talk about it now?" Hermione forced herself to ask, slipping her slender arms down the sleeves of his jacket. Knowing Draco was upset with her had been eating at her worse than having to deal with Ron earlier today.
Draco sighed. It was now or never. The two of them reached Hyde Park and decided to cut through. "I saw the list you were making on your desk today, before everything happened." The two continued to walk, albeit a slower pace now, silently. "Are you unhappy? Living in my house, that is."
"Merlin no!" Hermione gushed. "I just…I don't know. I've never lived with a man, and initially it was supposed to be temporary but then this happened and I didn't want to make any assumptions." She looked up at him, who was watching his feet shuffle against the pavement. "Draco," she said. "I'm happy living in your house. I'm happy with you."
"I wasn't expecting any of this," Draco admitted.
"Any of what?" Hermione asked.
"You," he said, stopping in the middle of the path. "This isn't how normal relationships occur. I've never even taken you out properly on a date. But I want you to live in my house and leave your make up all over the bloody bathroom sink. I want to wake up every day inhaling the intoxicating scent that is you. I want you to knot my ties in the morning and tell me how dashing I look because when I watch you…" he trailed off, brushing a lock of her hair back against her part where it belonged. "When I watch you, it makes me fall in love with you."
Hermione could feel the sincerity pouring from his soul. "Oh Draco," she spoke softly.
"You don't have to say it back," Draco quickly countered. "Don't say it unless you mean it."
"But you mean it," Hermione said, less of a question and more of an affirmation for herself. "You love me."
"I've never said that to anyone," Draco said. "Not because I didn't want to – I just never knew how to say it. Watching Harry and Ginny, watching you, it's astounding to me to see how love pours out of you all whether you want it to or not. Maybe it's because you knew you were loved your whole lives. I don't know. But what I do know is that I love you, and I want to say it to you every day."
Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. Breaking away, she grinned. "Even if I leave my makeup all over the bloody bathroom counter?"
"The makeup, the fact that I can't walk five feet in the bedroom without tripping over a pair of those torture devices you call shoes, the sneaky look you give me when I load the dishwasher just to see if I'm doing it your way while you sit and do those silly word puzzles in the paper – all of it, Granger. I love all of it."
She kissed him again. "I love you too."
"Not going to list my flaws? Must be because I'm perfect," he teased.
Hermione playfully swatted his chest as they walked towards the house. "More like I don't have enough time or oxygen to create such a list. Besides – I figured the sooner we got home, the sooner you could finish what you started this morning."
Draco grabbed her hand as they picked up their pace. Crossing the street, Hermione jogged up the steps to the house and unlocked the door. Once inside, Draco pressed her up against the closet door, snogging her senseless as he peeled his jacket from her arms and found the tie on the side of her dress. "You might be the death of me, Granger," he panted, untying the wrap dress, exposing her slightly.
"Maybe," she said, grabbing at the buckle of his pants. "But what a way to go."