Chapter 2: A New Beginning
It was now nearing the end of December, almost two months since Draco's wedding, and Hermione couldn't say that she'd found the peace she'd hoped for in France. The little flat she'd found in Paris was located in the Muggle world, but close enough to the entrance of Place Cachèe where it wasn't difficult to get around without the use of magic and avoid attracting notice to herself. It wasn't anything special, and considerably smaller than the little cottage she'd been renting in England, but no one from her old life knew how to find her and that was what she's wanted.
With her NEWT scores and her training of being a curse breaker, the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France (or French Ministry of Magic), was more than happy to employ her. Though her salary was much lower than it had been at Gringotts, Hermione saw the opportunity for growth in her position that had been denied her by the Goblins. When they'd discussed where she saw her future with them going, she hadn't been shot down, instead hearing that they foresaw bright things in her future within the department.
Keeping her head down and not wanting to make waves or draw unwanted attention in her direction, Hermione had managed to live a quiet life. Though, when she'd first run into Gabrielle Delacour, the sister of Bill Weasley's wife, she'd turned and nearly sprinted in the opposite direction. The sight of the eighteen-year-old witch had been enough to set her on edge and make her heart race.
Hiding away in France would only work if no one knew where she was, and if Gabrielle told her sister, it could easily get back to Ron. Getting to Ron meant Harry would find out, and Harry was Draco's partner… No, no one could know she was here.
It seemed that the younger witch had recognised her, much to Hermione's dismay, because time after time, the girl continued to make attempts to get Hermione's attention. The only saving grace was that Hermione worked in their magical law enforcement department and Gabrielle – she'd found out – was working in records.
Hermione had her head bent over, studying her notes on a particularly dark object that had just been confiscated at an auction house when the wave of nausea hit her. Grabbing the trash can next to her desk, Hermione released all the contents of her stomach before wiping her mouth with a cloth and vanishing her sick from the bin. Taking a deep breath, Hermione rummaged through her tote until she found the toothbrush and toothpaste, she carried with her and walked to the restroom nearest her cubicle.
Though, when Hermione stepped into the room, the sight of a tampon dispenser stopped her in her tracks. She was late. She knew she was late, and she'd been brushing it aside for weeks now. The stress of his wedding, the move, and a new job, it'd been easy to explain away missing that first month. But for it to miss a second month, Hermione bit her bottom lip.
She couldn't be…she mused as she stepped up to the sink and began to furiously scrub her teeth. When the two-minute timer went off, Hermione rinsed her mouth and spit into the sink. Standing back upright, she studied her appearance in the mirror and winced at what she saw. The dark circles under her eyes were extremely prominent and from how ill she'd been recently, her face had started to thin out too much, her cheeks bones standing out an alarming amount.
Huffing at her own wild thoughts, Hermione looked around the washroom, noticing that she was still blessedly alone. "Just to ease your mind," she muttered, pulling her wand from its holster. "Just do it, and find out you've totally lost it. Then go back to your life." She promised, casting the charm that she'd only done once before when she'd had a scare with Draco during their eighth year at Hogwarts.
Hermione held her breath and closed her eyes as she felt the magic dance over her abdomen before a warming sensation filled her body. "It's negative." She told herself again, as if saying it outloud would make it real. "You're not pregnant."
Though, when she looked down, the bright gold glow made it obvious just how wrong she'd been.
ooo
Hermione's knee bounced as she held the pen to the paper she was trying to write on. How the bloody hell was she supposed to do this?
Hey Draco, how's the newlywed life? Hope all is well with the wife. By the way, that shag we had the day before your wedding, yes well, I have something of yours growing inside me that I thought I ought to tell you about. I left England, don't know if you noticed or cared, so if you want to get back to me and can discuss this further, we can set up a floo call at your earliest convenience. Or not, totally up to you.
By the way, I'm keeping it. As you know, after Dolohov's curse in fifth year, the healers believed that I couldn't get pregnant. So, seeing as this might be my only chance at having a baby, I'm going to take it. Talk to you soon. Maybe.
No, that was utterly ridiculous, Hermione cursed to herself, crumpling up the letter and throwing it into the bin. Was she a bloody Gryffindor or not? Stealing her nerves, Hermione grabbed her bag and headed out for the international port key office. If she was going to tell Draco he was going to be a father come the end of July, she should do it in person.
ooo
Pulling her cloak up so that her face was hidden, Hermione rushed through the atrium of the Ministry in London, determined not to be stopped on her way out. However, no one paid her any attention and Hermione was able to get through the floo and to the Leaky Cauldron without a soul speaking to her.
She stepped into the small pub, the smells of the familiar food and the warmth of the pub filling her in a way that she hadn't even realised that she'd missed. Hermione kept her face hidden, as she moved to a small corner booth and sat trying to get her thoughts together.
Her plan was to rent a room for a few days and write to Draco to meet her somewhere neutral and break the news to him. She didn't want him to know where she was staying, so having him meet her here wasn't an option, but a little muggle cafe not too far from her parents' old house would be perfect. There was little to no chance that anyone would see them, and that's exactly what she was needing. Rip the bandage off and see what happened from there. Simple.
Though, as Hermione rummaged through her bag to find her coin purse so she could purchase lunch, a discarded copy of the blasted Daily Prophet left behind on the table she'd sat at caught her attention.
A NEW GENERATION! MALFOY FAMILY PROUDLY ANNOUNCES THE NEXT HEIR IS SET TO ARRIVE SOMETIME IN JULY 2004!
Even though her hands shook, Hermione managed to unfold the picture and a sob she couldn't contain slipped from her. A picture of Draco and his wife stood in the maternity ward of St. Mungo's, each of them resting a hand on her abdomen. Though they both wore smiles, neither seemed to actually be particularly thrilled at the prospect of becoming parents. Be that they didn't want to welcome a child so quickly after being married or if they weren't thrilled at who they were having a child with, regardless, it was happening.
Dropping the paper back on the table, Hermione floated her way out the door without ordering a thing and onto the muggle side of London to hail a cab. Her next portkey wasn't set to leave for three days, and the thought of spending even another moment in England made her feel as though she were suffocating. Her world was again crumbling around her, and Hermione knew that she needed to get out before she lost herself even more.
Hermione settled into the back seat, instructing the driver to take her to Heathrow Airport. Once the car started moving, Hermione leaned her head back and closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as the car wove through the busy streets. Draco was having an heir of his own, there was no need to complicate his life even more by telling him about their baby.
She was a strong woman; she'd faced death more times than she could count. She was fierce, had a promising career in front of her, she would take on motherhood just as she had everything else that life had thrown her way thus far.
At least, that's what she kept telling herself.
ooo
"Ermione?"
Hermione looked away from the little bundle of blankets in her arms and over to the younger witch standing in the doorway of her hospital room. The part Veela waved in her direction, making Hermione smile at her friend.
Gabrielle had doubled down on her efforts to befriend Hermione at the start of the new year. Chipping away at the walls that Hermione had erected over her heart until they'd become like sisters. With Fleur living in England with her new family, Gabrielle had a void where the older witch used to be that needed to be filled.
As reluctant as Hermione had been to allow anyone to get too close to her, she found that either it was the Veela blood running through the girl's veins or just her aurora, but she felt better than she had in years being around the girl.
"Are you about ready?" Hermione asked, smiling at her friend before looking down at her daughter. The pale white curls shone like a beacon behind the large bow the healers had put on her head. As much as it hurt to see the resemblance of her father, Hermione still wouldn't change a thing about her daughter. She was absolutely flawless.
"Oui, I ave everything ready." Gabby answered with a chipper tone as she swept into the room, happily gazing down at the baby. "She's perfect, looks exactly like she could be my baby sister."
"Were you able to–"
"Yes, yes, nothing to see on Lyra Madeline Granger's birth certificate. Shame magic can't identify an unknown muggle father." The part Veela answered, giving Hermione a wink that told her that no one would suspect a thing. There was something slightly scary about the pull that Gabrielle had over people, the Veela magic even stronger in her than it was in her elder sister. "Shall we get going? I'll admit it took me longer than I would have liked to get the nursery set up."
"Gab, you just had to put a crib in my room…" Hermione trailed off, eyeing the girl giving her a sheepish grin. "What did you do?"
"I might have moved you into my house…" The girl trailed off, causing Hermione's heart rate to spike with fear. She knew that Gabrielle lived in the wizarding world, though a bit off the beaten path in a small home her family owned off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. "Oh come off it, there's no lease that will have your name on it and you're going to need help with a baby and all. Maman is just thrilled that I have a friend, she didn't even recognise you as the same 'Ermione that was friends with 'Arry Potter."
"What about your sister?" Hermione asked, her irritation with the girl growing still. "Won't Fleur notice me when she comes to visit?"
"Oh, please. Fleur 'asn't been home since she married. Maman 'as to go to 'er to see the babes."
Hermione still wasn't thrilled with the idea, but when Gabrielle widened her eyes and gave Hermione such a pleading look, she couldn't deny her.
"Fine, fine, I suppose. Just until we get on our feet, though. I won't be living with you and cramping your style for long." Hermione promised, but the French witch didn't hear a word as she fluttered around the room gathering all the things that Hermione had brought to the hospital with her.
With another sigh, Hermione laid her sleeping baby down and slipped away to put on the sundress she'd brought with her to wear to go home. Though, her thoughts were no longer with the two blonde witches she'd just left in the cramped room, instead she couldn't stop wondering about Draco and if there was another Malfoy born yet.