Author's Notes:
Here's Chapter 126 for you!
I've done we'll stick to my 'write every day' goal for 2021. I enjoyed writing this chapter. I want to say it's "short and sweet", but most normal people's chapters are shorter than 5000 words.
I'm really looking forward to writing the next chapter because it's the Blara Wedding and Reception party. I'm hoping to have it done by 2nd February 2021, for our 5th Anniversary for The Marriage Decree.
PS Enjoy x
Sat in a highchair at the end of the table, James squeezes a chip his mum has just passed him from her plate. He mushes it into his mouth, laughing as he chews with his grin wide open.
"Beautiful," Ginny laughs, turning back to Hermione, sat opposite her. "Yeah, anyway, Mum came knocking at seven o'clock this morning, we were all still in bed, sleeping."
"What did she want?" Hermione asks, interested in her friend's story.
"It's dad's day off, so they came for breakfast, of course," Ginny sarcastically grins.
"You mean they wanted to have a nosy look around the new house?" Hermione asks.
"Exactly," her eyes light up. "It's not like they've never been around, it's Grimmauld Place, we lived there for nearly a whole summer," she sighs. "And we only moved in two weeks ago."
"How's it going?" Hermione asks, earning herself a tired glare. "Sorry, I asked." She sips her tea.
"Do you know how many rooms are in Grimmauld Place?"
Hermione shakes her head. Despite spending the better part of one summer helping the Weasley's tidy the many bedrooms and reception rooms, she lost count on how many there were.
"Neither do we," Ginny admits. "So, I let them in while Harry got the kids dressed, and Mum starts complaining straight away, asking if I'm planning on getting dressed today."
Ginny looks increasingly more tired, shovelling some salad in her mouth, passing her son another chip.
"That's how mums are sometimes," Hermione nods.
"Not us," Ginny points out.
"Just you wait," Hermione hints.
Ginny chuckles, "Well, the kids came down, and mum started fussing over them while I went back up and got dressed."
"Is that why you're looking put together today?" Hermione teases.
Her friend gasps, hurt, "Yes, it is." She grins. "Anyway, Harry makes breakfast for us all, just some eggs and toast, and we've all got drinks, but this one here specifically wants my drink," she nods at James in the highchair. "And he just grabs for it, spilling it down himself."
"Not on the new wooden floors?"
"Of course, on the new wooden floors. Thank Merlin for cleaning spells." She sighs. "Then Mum starts complaining about giving him orange juice, apparently, it's not good for their teeth, or something, but's it's not like I gave it to him. I was drinking orange juice; my son stole it." She complains.
Hermione shudders, "I'm sorry, I haven't been able to think about orange juice since you drank that orange juice cup of tea." She puts her own cup of tea down, feeling nauseous.
"I'm sorry!" She sarcastically says with indignation. "I was having pregnancy cravings." She defends herself.
"It's disgusting, Gin-"
"Oh, shit!" Ginny curses, eyes flickering to her son to make sure he hadn't heard her.
"What's wrong?" Hermione panics, scanning James.
"I think I'm pregnant," Ginny whispers, leaning over the table.
"What!" Hermione's voice raises in surprise.
"Shh," her friend slaps her hand.
"What do you mean, you think you're-"
"Shh," she shushes her again.
"Okay, has it just dawned on you?"
"I've been drinking a lot of orange juice recently," Ginny states, as though that's evidence enough.
"That's not very conclusive," Hermione points out.
"My period is late," she adds.
"How late?" Hermione asks, but Ginny pauses for too long. "You don't know?"
"I can't remember, maybe before Christmas." She shrugs.
"Ginny!"
"I've been busy."
"It's the middle of March."
"I've been training nearly every day. I started on the pitch in that January game, and I need to stay at the top of my form," Ginny's shoulder's drop as she realises if she is pregnant, she'd have to stop training.
"Okay, first things first, you need to take a test." Hermione goes straight into comfort mode. "I can go get one now from the apothecary; you can go into the bathroom." She suggests.
"Not there," her eyes widen. "Everyone knows us down here." She shifts around, cautiously scanning the tea shop.
"Everyone knows us everywhere," Hermione points out. "Two people asked for you autograph as we were walking down Diagon Alley."
Ginny's smile returns softly, "It was for Quidditch too."
"How about I go into the muggle world? I can find a pharmacy; no one will know." She offers.
Ginny rolls her eyes, "Everyone knows those sticks aren't accurate."
"Inaccuracies aren't that common," she tells her. "Do you want me to go down Knockturn Alley? There'll be fewer people down there."
Ginny thinks for a moment and nods, "That could work."
"Okay, I'll be five minutes," Hermione stands, grabbing her jacket and pulling it on as she leaves.
As she walks towards Knockturn Alley's opening, she wonders how clueless her friend can be on matters of her own body, before remembering she hadn't realised herself, when she was pregnant with Scorpius. She would need to apologise for being judgmental when she returned; she was just shocked to have the news sprung upon her.
Since the first of March, when the Former Death Eater Decree was enacted, Britain's wizarding communities had become increasingly quiet overnight.
Walking up and down the country's market streets were pairs of Aurors and Ministry Officials, who had been retrained as Community Officer.
One pair was walking towards Hermione now; she smiles politely at them; they both nod in time with each other as they walk past. She sighs in relief once they're out of hearing distance. Every time she's stepped into the wizarding world, she has been stopped and asked where she was going.
As she reaches the opening to Knockturn Alley, a feeling of nausea washes over her. She casts a nervous glance around her surroundings to make sure no wandering eyes were watching her. She hadn't thought about how suspicious it would look for her to be seen entering the darker side of Diagon Alley.
She dodges down the Alley and wraps her jacket closer around her as the cold and dampness of the space creep into her bones. It's quite eerie down there, and unfortunately, the apothecary is nearer the end of Knockturn Alley.
A few cloaked figures hug the dark walls as she passes them, not wanting to be near Hermione Granger, the war hero. She holds her head high, ignoring their stares.
"Ms Granger?" A voice calls her, and she jumps.
She turns, expecting to find an auror or one of the Community Officers. Instead, she comes face to face with Perseus Parkinson.
"Mr Parkinson, how can I help you?" She forces her smiles.
"I wouldn't expect to see you down here," he mentions, uncovering his hands from his cloak to gesture down the Alley. "Especially not as of recent."
"I don't often frequent down Knockturn Alley, but I find the majority of the shopkeepers are more discrete here than down Diagon Alley." She explains.
"Of course, their cliental base usually pays for such luxuries." Mr Parkinson nods.
"It's to be expected," Hermione nods, hoping to get out of this conversation quicker by agreeing with him.
A crack behind her friend's father catches their attention as two Aurors appear.
Mr Parkinson sighs, removing his wand from his pocket. Hermione instinctively reaches for her own, fear of what the man was about to do. Unexpectedly, he offers his wand, the most sacred object to a wizard, as an extension of their internal magic, to one of the two Aurors.
"Your wand, Ma'am?" The second Auror holds his leather-gloved hand out.
"For what purpose do you need my wand?" she asks, not willing to just hand over her own wand.
The Auror frowns, "We must check the last used spell." He tells her.
"You only have the right to check wands for last used spells when five or more people on the watch list are gathered together, as per subsection 16b." She says, as though reading from the parchment they had received last month.
"I know the law," he snaps at her. "But you are the one that chose to enter Knockturn Alley; everyone knows the type of scum that shop down here." His eyes shift to Mr Parkinson. "I can guarantee everyone down here are watch-listers." He adds.
"Watch-listers?" Hermione frowns, she hadn't heard the phrase before.
"Yeah, the people on the watch list." The first Auror clarifies, handing Mr Parkinson's wand back to him.
"Ah, I am a watch-lister," Hermione smiles, making the Auror's uncomfortable. "Are you a watch-lister, Mr Parkinson?" She asks.
The man raises his eyebrow, wondering where this questioning was going, "I suppose I am, although I wasn't a Death Eater," he claims.
"Of course not, Mr Parkinson." She nods. "I'm not judging; I married one." She chuckles, reigning familiarity for the sole purpose of ignoring the Aurors.
"There was never any evidence or witnesses to find me guilty, I assure you, Ms Granger." He states, agitated.
"They're all in Azkaban, I'm sure," she smiles, turning her attention towards the Aurors.
"Ms Granger, your wand, it'll take a minute," The first one tries to convince her.
"I don't know who you've been talking too, but they are severely mistaken." Mr Parkinsson interrupts.
"Don't worry, they won't be talking to anyone else," she says, brushing him aside.
"Ms Granger, the alternative is we take you into the Ministry for questioning," the first Auror claims.
Hermione frowns but reluctantly hands her wand over.
"What are you doing down here anyway, Ms Granger?" The second Auror asks her.
"I don't see how that is any of your business, sir." She answers.
"You shouldn't be down here alone," he suggests.
Hermione scoffs, "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself from my fellow watch-listers." She smirks.
Her wand is returned to her, which she pockets, "May I leave?" She asks, somewhat sarcastically.
"I would advise you be quick, Ma'am," the second Auror says.
Hermione rolls her eyes, walking away from them and Mr Parkinson. She had expected to be stopped at some point. She had not expected to be accosted and have her wand illegally tested since she had not been gathered with five or more, whatever the Aurors say.
She removes her phone from her pocket, dialling Harry's number. He answers after a few rings.
"The trap has been set," she states, eyes remaining vigilant.
There's silence on the other end, until, "What?"
Hermione sighs, "Come on, Harry, our agreement? If I happened upon our friend, I would agitate him."
"Friend? Oh, Parkinson?" He realises.
"Yes, Harry," she smiles. "The trap has been set," she repeats.
"Right, I'll let my people know," Harry states. "Are you having fun?" He asks.
"Yeah, we're just having lunch, although I'm running an errand. I hear you and Teddy are painting his bedroom this afternoon." She mentions, to take the attention off her 'errand'.
Harry hums, "He's chosen a lovely shade of blue, it matches his hair." He mentions.
"I'll let you get back to it then," she says goodbye before hanging up.
She enters the apothecary, a bell above the door ringing, announcing her arrival to the woman behind the counter. She looks like a stereotypical witch from muggle culture, with crooked teeth, a hooked nose, wart on her chin, and fingernails the length of talons.
"Wow, Ms Hermione Granger, you're bold, coming in here, or even down here, what can I do you for?" She asks, drumming her nails on the counter.
"Your discretion?" Hermione asks, walking up to the counter.
"Interesting," the woman grins, standing taller. "Of course, we are very discrete."
"A pregnancy test," Hermione asks, with her verbal agreement.
"Ah, congratulations!" The woman smiles, coming out from behind the counter and walking over to a small jar on the shelf. "Do you know how it works?" She asks.
"Yes, I do," Hermione lies, having not taken one herself before, but she's sure Ginny must have taken one when she was pregnant with James.
"That'll be about four Galleons," she says, placing a paper bag, with the pregnancy test inside, on the counter.
"About four Galleons?"
"Well, it's three Galleons something, but you wanted the added discretion." She wiggles her eyebrows.
Hermione smiles, impressed at her determination, and hands over the four Galleons.
"Thanks for your custom," the woman places the coins in the till.
"Thanks for your discretion," Hermione returns, placing the bag in her jacket pocket and leaving.
She makes it out of Knockturn Alley, only to walk directly into the new Community Officers' path.
"Ms Granger?" One of them asks, looking her up and down, then glancing over at Knockturn Alley. "What were you doing down there?" He asks.
"Shopping," she sighs, tired of this Former Death Eater Decree already, two weeks in.
"In Knockturn Alley?" He asks.
"Yes, look two Aurors have already stopped me as I entered there, they checked my wand. I'm not currently with any other 'watch-listers', and my friend is waiting for at the tea shop, can I go, please?" Hermione states.
"What business did you have down there?" The second Community Officer asks, taking out her notepad.
"Seriously, this is against the subsections of the decree," Hermione reminds them.
"I think you exiting Knockturn Alley counts as suspicious behaviour, which gives us the right to ask you questions." The first Community Office tells her.
"Fine, I needed to visit an apothecary for a delicate situation," Hermione says. "And people's business has been increasingly sold to the press down Diagon Alley, as of recent, so I went a little further afield. Is that good enough explanation for you?"
"Can you empty your pockets of anything you bought down Knockturn Alley? We need to check for Dark Artifacts."
"Why not?" Hermione pulls out the bag, handing it over to the Community Officer. "The Ministry's already taken enough freedoms from us, why not this too." She folds her arms with attitude.
The male Community Officer opens the bag, lifting out the pregnancy test, "What's this?" He asks.
The female Community Officer glances over, from writing in her notebook, "A pregnancy test." She states.
He drops it back in the bag, a look of disgust on his face as he hands it back. "Congrats?" He says, eyes wide.
"It hasn't been taken yet," she points out.
The male Community Officer clears his throat, looking around awkwardly, "I think that will be all, Ms Granger."
"Thanks," Hermione rushes away, hoping not to be stopped again.
She throws the tea shops door open and slumps down in the chair.
"You've been gone half an hour, I had to order a cake," Ginny tells her, a small plate with smears of chocolate sits in front of her, the cake is long gone.
"Sorry, I kept getting held up," she sighs, discreetly handing the bag over, under the table.
"Community Officers? I've seen three pairs walk past since you've been gone." Ginny tells her. "It's getting over-the-top," she shakes her head, hiding the pregnancy test bag in James' change bag.
"You're telling me! They checked my wand and searched that bag," she recounts.
"Can they even do that?"
"Technically, yes, but they're very loose with the subsections."
"I'll talk to Harry if you want?" Ginny offers.
"I'll need to speak to him anyway, I spoke to Pansy's father down Knockturn Alley."
"Bit dodgy,"
"I was there too,"
"Yeah, but for legitimate reasons," Ginny points out. "I'm going to go take James for a change," she winks, picking her son up from his highchair, along with his change bag.
Hermione picks up her cup of tea, taking a sip, only for it to be stone cold. She swallows reluctantly, taking a book out of her jacket pocket to read while her friend is occupied. She manages five pages before Ginny return.
She drops herself rather heavily into her chair, James sitting on her lap, slapping his hands on the table.
"Fuck!" James shouts.
Hermione giggles in surprise.
"Shush, James," Ginny sighs, locking eyes with Hermione. "It was positive," she looks crestfallen.
"Oh, Merlin," Hermione rests her hand atop her friends in comfort. "What are you going to do?"
"I've got to tell, Harry. I'll have to take a year off from training." She groans, resting her head upon her son's head. "I'll have to book an appointment at St Mungo's." She adds.
"Think of it this way, Gin," Hermione's face brightens. "You're turning twenty in the summer, you've got your whole life ahead of you, and you'll have the whole pregnancy thing out of the way. You told me you wanted two children?" She asks.
Ginny nods, "I love Teddy as my own, but I had hoped to have two of my own, but a bit more spread out than two years." She complains.
"Okay, by the time you're twenty-one, you'll be done with having kids and have your whole Quidditch career ahead of you," Hermione points out.
Ginny nods, "I guess you're right. This could be a blessing." She smiles. "I know we were planning on doing some shopping, but I really think I should head home and tell Harry. Please don't tell anyone."
"That's fine, Gin, you don't even need to ask. If you need to talk, you know where I live." Hermione stands and leaves with her friend.
They exchange a tight hug before they each disapparate their separate ways.
Hermione arrives on the apparition room of the Ministry of Magic. Draco wasn't expecting her home for a few more hours. He had been excited for some daddy-son time with Scorpius. She decides to get their holiday permission signed, so they can actually go to America for their meeting with President Harris. She enters a lift and presses the button for the sub-level 47.
Megan had told them to ask her boss, Gideon Johnson, to sign the permission, but Hermione doesn't know him. Megan might be able to trust him, but Hermione doesn't know if she can. That leaves only one Head of a Department that she knows she can trust, but dislikes enough that she doesn't mind if he loses his job.
"Ms Hermione Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Alexander," she smiles, walking down the aisle between his colleagues' desks towards the Head of Registration's desk at the back of the room.
"What do you need from me now?" Mr Vyner asks, leaning back in his chair, an amused smirk on his face.
Hermione rolls her eyes; they hadn't spoken since Scorpius' registration ceremony. Since their agreement at the Anniversary War dinner earlier last year, she's trying to trust him, as his acquaintanceship may come in handy one day. "Your permission to go on holiday," she states, placing the document down in front of him.
Mr Vyner groans, "Why me?", leaning over the parchment to read. "You're going to America, right now?" He asks her
"Well, not right now; next month," she clarifies.
"Yes, I can see that," he looks back at the parchment, where she has already filled in the details. "I meant in this current political climate."
Hermione smiles, "That's kind of the point." She hints.
Mr Vyner hums, returning her smile as he picks up his quill, twiddling it around his fingers. "Do I want to know?"
"Do you want plausible deniability?" She asks in return.
Mr Vyner narrows his eyes, studying her. "Yes, I do." He signs the permission document. "As I've said before, it can be useful having friends in the Ministry. Mr Potter hasn't been down here in a while, which I'm grateful for, but I've read the newspapers, of course, and if what they're saying is true, you can expect me on your side, Ms Granger." He hands the document back.
"I know your feelings towards the Minister and half-expected as much," she pockets the document. "Thank you for your time, as always, Alexander." She smiles at his discomfort of her using his first name, before taking her leave.
"You're home early," Draco comments when she enters the kitchen a couple of hours earlier than expected. "Did you have a nice lunch?" He asks, feeding Scorpius a spoonful of oatmeal.
"Yeah, it came to an unexpected end, and I got stopped twice," she rolls her eyes, throwing herself down on kitchen couch with a sigh of relief.
"Is Ginny well?" He asks, pulling a silly face to make Scorpius laugh and open his mouth wide for the next spoonful.
"A bit overwhelmed with the whole moving house thing," Hermione chuckles.
"We've been there," Draco smiles.
"Molly and Arthur decided to pop round for breakfast too," she adds.
Draco groans, "I'm glad the majority of our family are muggles, and we haven't allowed mother into the wards yet. No unexpected guests." He comments.
Hermione laughs, sitting up suddenly. "I got our holiday permission signed." She tells him.
"Who by? Gideon Johnston?" He asks, watching her walk around to him and placing the document down on the counter.
"No, we've never met him, so I went to the only person we can trust, who hates the Minister."
"Alexander Vyner?" Draco recognises the signature. "I can't believe he signed it?"
"We have this 'positive acquaintanceship' going on." She explains.
"At least it's signed. We can start planning our holiday." He shrugs.
"We're got a month, Draco." She reminds him, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I'm going to get changed." She tells him. "Fancy a walk down to the river?" She asks.
"Sounds fun," he nods.
Scorpius starts waving his arms around, complaining, with his mouth open, ready for another spoonful.
"Are you telling Daddy you're hungry?" Hermione asks her son, kissing the top of his head.
"Be patient, son," Draco tells the baby, who continues to complain. He mixes the oatmeal around and collects another spoonful.
Hermione feels a pulse of love in her chest at the scene in front of her. "I love you," she tells him, almost tearing up.
Draco's brow furrows, "I love you too?"
"You're both too much," she grins. "Just adorable." She mutters to herself, heading upstairs to change out of her dressier clothes, and into a pair of jeans and shirt that she doesn't mind wearing out in the countryside, where they tend to get muddy or wet.
The rest of the afternoon is spent down by the river, eating a picnic that Mitty had made for them. Hermione's camera hung around her neck so she could snap pictures of her husband and son throughout the day. She had discussed photography with Dennis Creevey, in Flourish and Blotts, a week earlier. He had found her a book his brother had enjoyed about photography spells. Since then, she had taken to processing the film herself in one of their many guest bedrooms.
Back home, Draco could tell his wife eagerly wanted to develop the pictures she had taken that day, and so urged her to do so upstairs. Draco put Scorpius down for a nap in the living room Moses basket.
Once their son was down, he makes a start on dinner, a simple chicken stir fry that he had found in a recipe book. Hermione joins him as he's finishing, a small pile of photos in her hands.
"What do you think about this one?" She asks, showing him a moving picture of Scorpius, sat on his lap and propped up against his chest, with curious eyes wandering the river.
"I think it might be a new favourite," he confirms. "One for the fridge?" He suggests, plating up their dinner.
"Definitely," she agrees, sticking it to the fridge with a magnet charm, besides the invitation to Blaise and Cara's wedding on the tenth of April.
They sit at the kitchen island to eat their dinner and go over the pictures Hermione had taken, that she spreads out in front of them.
"I'm thinking of including one in the letter I'm writing for Lucius in the Quibbler," she explains. "Photos like this can be of anywhere," she points to another of Scorpius sitting up by himself in a field of daisies.
Draco nods in agreement, "Are you adding these to the album?" He asks as they eat.
Hermione had begun an album of pictures of Scorpius' first year. She was onto her third volume now, with most of the second volume being dedicated to family pictures at Christmas. It hoped to be something they could look back on fondly.
After dinner, Hermione wakes their son up, so he would not be up the whole night. Draco washes up while she sits on the living room rug with some toys. When they're joined together, Draco turns the television on to a film starting on one channel. They don't pay much attention to the plot or the characters as they watch Scorpius play with some wooden block, bashing them together so that they make a loud noise that he seems to enjoy.
By bedtime, Scorpius has exhausted himself and is yawning away in his mother's arms.
"Right," Draco slaps his knees, pushing himself up. "Bedtime, I think."
He helps Hermione stand as they retire to bed, both fast asleep before the grandfather clock they placed in the foyer rang out eleven o'clock.
She is awoken early the next morning by her husband shaking her urgently shaking her awake. She frowns, staring up at his paler than usual face, Scorpius perched on his hip and a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hand.
"How long were you going to keep this a secret?" He asks, his left eye twitching nervously.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione pushes herself up in bed, her sleepiness fogging her mind.
Draco places the Daily Prophet on her lap. On the front page is her and Scorpius's photograph taken for the Christmas interview she did with Magnus Maddox. She reads the title and seethes with anger.
New Home, New Baby? Are the Malfoys expecting baby #2 just six months after the birth of their first?
"How dare they?" She hisses, throwing the duvet cover off as she climbs out of bed. "I'll send a letter to Harry; he'll- damn." She stops in her ramblings, realising she can't tell her friend about the Community Officers divulging information form their question of her to the Daily Prophet, without telling him the truth of why she was buying a pregnancy test in the first place.
"The article said you bought a pregnancy test." He states, sitting on the end of their bed, watching her internal struggle.
"Oh," she understands his uneasiness. "No, it's fine, Draco," she takes his face into her hands, kissing each cheek and then his lips. "It was for Ginny," she clarifies.
Draco lets out a sigh of relief, "Thank Merlin!" He exclaims, lying back on their bed, bring his wife and son with him.
Hermione presses another amused kiss to his lips. Scorpius giggles from between them. She rolls to the side, cuddling into her husband's side, Scorpius between them.
"Nothing to worry about," she mutters.
"I was terrified," he admits, and Hermione burst out laughing.
"I would be too, dear," she kisses his neck. "Ginny didn't want anyone to see her buying one, what with her career has taken off this year, so I bought one for her. No doubt the Community Officers who stopped me spread the news to the Daily Prophet," she sighs.
"Is she- pregnant?" He asks, curiosity getting the better of him as he turns to face her.
"Yes, but don't go spreading it around," Hermione tells him. "It came as a shock and I'm sure they both need some privacy to come to terms with it." She warns him.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco smiles, resting his eyes, and cuddling his wife and child. "I'm just glad it's not us. This little one is enough right now."
As if to prove their point, Scorpius lets a cry escapes from his scrunched-up face as his little feet start kicking and his fists punching the air in discomfort.
"Come on, baby, let's get you a bath," Hermione scoops her son up into his arms.
She grabs her wand from her bedside table, walking down the hallway to the family bathroom. She casts 'aguamenti' into the bathtub, then using a heating charm to make it the perfect temperature.
"I'll get breakfast started," Draco peers through the door to let her know. He heads downstairs, leaving Hermione to bathe and dress their son in preparation for the day ahead.
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