Hermione and Draco walked hand in hand through the carts and shops, brightly coloured buildings on either side. A street vendor hung some freshly-caught octopus drying on lines in the sun.

In a flash from Draco, she knew he was thinking that was more commonly seen in Greece. But she was still somewhat Greece-averse, at least for a while longer. He was determined to make her come around. Maybe no Mykonos, but she'd loved Santorini too much. He wouldn't push her, though.

Instead, he was mulling over the plural of octopus. Was it octopi? It must be octopi.

She gave a little chuckle as they walked. "It's 'octopuses,' even though it sounds strange."

"No, it isn't," he said in disbelief. "No way. 'Octopi' sounds just as strange, but -"

"I swear to Merlin," Hermione said, crossing over her heart. "And you should get it right. I'm sure they hate when someone eating them calls them by the wrong name. I know I hate it when it happens to me."

She burst out laughing as Draco choked, doubling over to cough. "Sweet Salazar, Granger. Are you really saying you slept with someone who didn't know your name?"

She was laughing too hard to continue. It took her a solid moment. "I don't know that I'd call it 'sleeping with' if they're just - doing that, but -"

But she couldn't keep up the ruse. He could see in her mind that she was pulling his leg. Blast this connection, she cursed, still giggling a bit.

Draco was shaking his head, gawping at her. Finally she tugged his hand along and got them moving again, weaving casually through people and carts on the street. She was getting hungry, actually, her stomach letting out a low rumble and -

Draco pulled her towards a little cafe on the corner where they could sit and people-watch. Hermione exhaled contentedly as she sat down, Draco pulling out her chair. She was still chuckling a little over their prior exchange.

He leaned in to kiss her. "You're quite feisty, you know."

She couldn't hold back a smirk. The best part of the past six months had been getting to know one another outside the confines of the whole lab situation. Finally, there was nothing else going on, nothing else to worry over. No investigation, no Wizengamot. It was just them.

And occasionally the Zabinis, although they'd moved into their own place months ago. Blaise's family was in the Tuscany region near Florence, but he'd discovered a larger-than-expected coven of vampires in Rome. They numbered only a half dozen but compared to the population around them, it was considered a cluster. They were thrilled to make Blaise's acquaintance - and Hermione's.

Hermione had hung out an unofficial flag of Healing care and word was slowly spreading throughout the region. The vampires were a deeply underserved population. Padma was an enthusiastic nurse, too. Hermione thought the witch could easily pass her Healer exams if she chose, but Padma seemed content to practise unofficially. She could do everything Hermione could, and their little operation wasn't a formal hospital, anyway.

"Would you like some octopus, by the way?" Draco asked innocently. "I say one, singular, and not the suspiciously plural octopuses - which I'm still not sure I believe."

"Then look it up when we get home, clever clogs," she shot back with a sassy defiance. "I'll bet you -"

"- What?" he breathed, leaning in close again. "What will you bet me?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the heat in his grey eyes. "I'll bet you that I throw up if the server actually splats a fresh octopus down on this table, first off -"

"- well, it would be cooked, Granger -"

"- and I'll bet you…"

This was proving somewhat difficult, in fact. Draco did anything and everything she wanted already. His obvious delight at having stumped her fuelled her determination.

"Alright," she said in triumph, "if I'm right, you have to read me Hogwarts: A History - aloud. With inflection."

His face fell slightly but she had to admire the way he rallied. "The whole thing? Fine. And if I'm right?"

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "You won't have to. That's all. I'm right, though."

"I'm not sure that's a good enough reward if I'm right."

"The self-satisfaction of knowing something I don't wouldn't be enough for you?" She raised a cocky eyebrow.

"You are a cheeky witch," Draco pointed at her before turning to the server. "We'll have the octopus carpaccio to start, please."

"- is that cooked?" Hermione hastily interrupted.

"Sì, signora."

She sighed and resigned herself to the order. She probably wouldn't throw up. Probably.

"You don't have to eat it. It just sounded good," he teased. "But I don't think you'll throw up, if it's any consolation."

He could tell she didn't currently feel nauseous. It just tended to come on rather suddenly, ruining meals on a whim. She knew she could eat cooked octopus; in an abstract sort of way, the carpaccio did sound good. The question of whether her stomach would tolerate it was a different matter.

"Regardless, I don't fancy sprinting for the loo."

"Why do they call it morning sickness if it's all bloody day?" Draco quirked an eyebrow.

"Bollocks if I know, but I think this is the sort brought on by food anyway. That can also stop whenever it likes. I'd appreciate it."

"What is it about the octopus?" Draco asked curiously. "Smell?"

"No, there's not much smell. It's more the texture - or how I imagine the texture. I don't think I'd do well with raw oysters just now, either, but I'm not allowed those anyway. The whole thing is ridiculous. I just want to stop throwing up everywhere."

Another massive aversion Hermione had developed was eggs, in any form. Smell definitely played a part there, but she was crushed. She'd never been a breakfast person in the morning, but she had a soft spot for eggs at brunch. Well, she used to. She sighed again and looked out at the water, a little glumly.

They weren't sure if it was a boy or a girl. Not yet. Hermione was on the fence about even finding out, except that the debate over the names had grown extended and vibrant. Draco was anxious for an heir, in the manner of all Malfoy men, Hermione supposed. They'd traditionally only been one per generation and Draco was hoping for more than that.

But she could sense his desire for a little girl, too. He felt somewhat sappy about this and she tried not to tease him over it, but she thought it was adorable. And in the end, she reminded herself, it didn't really matter. Whatever this baby was named, they'd aim to have another.

If it was a girl, they'd finally settled - almost. Probably. Nearly - on 'Narcissa Rose.' 'Rose Narcissa' didn't flow as well, in her opinion, and she had strong opinions lately.

"You've always had strong opinions," Draco cut in out loud with the requisite eye roll.

The octopus carpaccio arrived and Hermione was pleased not to feel the warning roil in her stomach.

His observation was fair, however, and she desisted arguing the point. He had strong opinions of his own on the boy's name side of things. Draco quite liked the idea of a 'Draco Lucius Malfoy II' but Hermione had a vivid image of a 'Draco Junior' eventually becoming called 'DJ,' and he'd been horrified. She'd laughed so hard she nearly cried.

ooo

By the time they'd arrived back at home, there was a parcel waiting. Parvati had sent a final draft of her book. Her editor still had to get her hands on most of it, but Parvati was quite pleased with the contents.

Hermione had been quite happy to immerse herself in Italy over the past six months, rather than continuing to think about the situation in London. She found that she needed the mental change more than she could have guessed. But she flipped to the opening pages, curious.

Parvati had to begin with a lengthy preface, detailing her personal involvement in the case and ending up with the open acknowledgment that she'd been kidnapped by one of the perpetrators' various obsessive acolytes. Full disclosure, she stated. Even with this asterisk to her investigative journalism, Hermione could tell she'd done a thorough and impressive job.

Rifling through, she saw that Parvati had included transcripts of interrogations with and without Veritaserum. She had interviewed the O'Learys prior to their deaths - also discussed in relation to the case - and they'd provided excellent background. Trevor had even managed to gather quotes from associates, colleagues, or family of the other three.

It was very well-rounded and Hermione was thrilled to see that the focus remained on the individuals at fault - not the fact that they were squibs or Muggles. After all, Raquel O'Leary's psychopathy would have been the prominent feature no matter how she'd been born. If she'd actually had magic at her fingertips… Hermione shuddered to think. She could have been the worst dark witch since Bellatrix Lestrange.

Parvati eulogised those who had died, both in the labs and after. She gave weighty space to the memory of those who had been affected, refusing to let the book be dominated solely by the evil of the perpetrators. She pulled other quotes from the profile interviews many of the tenebris ones had given, using their own words again for context here.

Parvati didn't skimp on the Ministry's involvement, either, but it was clear she'd worked alongside Kingsley and several other cooperative Ministry department heads. Some of those investigations were still ongoing and details couldn't be used, but it appeared that the Ministry wanted to be up front about recovering their own image and ousting corruption.

Draco had read over her shoulder for a bit before moving along. She hadn't been paying him much mind, getting more and more engulfed in the draft Parvati had sent, when he let out a victorious yell.

"A-ha! Both 'octopuses' and 'octopi' are used. 'Octopi' was used because Latin words should have Latin endings, and -"

He looked at her warily to see how she was taking this defeat before trying to continue. She beat him to it.

"- but the original word is Greek. It was used in Latin because all animals are categorised in Latin terms. But 'octopuses' is the proper conjugation for the plural in the Greek language and is also more commonly used."

Draco refused to concede. He declared it a tie after Hermione roundly rejected his claim of a technical victory.

A heated debate of this also ensued, ending with Draco sweeping the books and fresh draft onto the floor and putting Hermione on the table instead. "If you let me have this win," he whispered into her neck as he stepped between her knees, "I'll do anything you want."

"But we're the only two here," she protested on principle. "We both know I won it."

He shook his head, tickling her ear. "No, no, it was a tie. But if you'll let me tell people I won, then -"

She missed the rest. He was doing other things now, and she didn't care enough. Let him take the victory. She could tell he'd still read the first chapter of Hogwarts: A History to her later.

ooo

They hosted a small garden party when Rosier and his mate came into town. The Zabinis came back by to visit and they had a nice little group of six.

Draco knew Granger was still missing Rose, her absence felt everywhere when the rest of them were all together. But she powered along with that sometimes-infuriating Gryffindor tenacity and he was glad she had that to fall back on today.

Parvati's book had gone to the publisher at last and this was a celebration of sorts. She'd sent drafts to each of the tenebris seminio for input and opinions, wanting to hear any concerns. She'd incorporated necessary changes, her editor had signed off once more, and finally - finally - nearly two years after the labs had been discovered in the first place, the book was now in the hands of the publisher.

They'd all been so close to the process every step of the way that it was easy to forget what a true bombshell it was likely to be. The public had only ever known certain bits from this angle or that, whatever was helpful to them at the time.

At this discussion, Draco felt Granger flinch. That parallel reminded her of O'Leary. She couldn't help resisting it, even as he gently prodded her that it wasn't at all the same. He took her hand under the table and squeezed it.

The Zabinis had gotten married not long after they had. But he felt Granger's attention divert suddenly to Parvati's left hand, where there was a shiny new piece of jewellery. She squealed over it as witches do. Padma knew already, naturally, and Draco relaxed into this. Her mind was back onto something happy.

Draco shook James's hand and offered a round of cigars. Granger shot him a revolted look and rolled her eyes, offering some - some wine, she amended hastily, to the ladies. She still avoided champagne.

He watched her move back into their home to pour two glasses of wine and sparkling water for herself as he fetched the cigars and lit them. The three of them stood companionably on the terrace, puffing away, while the witches settled just inside the closed door. He couldn't help watching Granger.

He knew they all did this, to varying degrees. But of the six of them, only the men were part-creatures. The witches all seemed to take their overwhelmingly direct attention in stride, and at this point, it just felt normal. Draco always watched Granger. She was never self-conscious about it.

One of the Patils said something funny and all three women broke up laughing. Granger bent over the small table, elbows nearly resting on her stomach and hands over her mouth.

Draco got a sudden flash of - something. The visual was murky and he discarded it in favour of the emotion. Happiness. Contentedness. Joy. But it wasn't Granger. He knew Granger.

What -

His confusion overwhelmed him for a moment before things slammed into place. He nearly staggered. His hand flung out to grip the terrace railing.

"Malfoy?" Zabini was saying somewhere in the distance.

Things were rushing into him rapidly. It was overwhelming. Granger had looked up with alarm on her face. Without fully knowing what he was doing, Draco yanked his Occlumency up.

Everyone was staring at him in mute astonishment. The three witches had joined them on the terrace, cigar smoke be damned.

"Draco… what was that?" The concern evident in Granger's voice nearly made Draco cave right then. Her pretty face was scrunched and worried. She'd felt something wild and then nothing at all - he hoped. But looking at her, his resolve tangibly wobbled before he hardened it again.

Draco inhaled to steady himself. He never used occlumency any longer - well, almost never. He had a very thin surprise planned down the road and the only way he could ensure a proper surprise anymore was occlumency, but he really, really, tried not to use it. Granger had no such advantages for privacy and it felt distinctly unfair. But now…

Swallowing hard, he faced her. Her chocolate brown eyes almost made him fold again, but he resisted.

"Granger… you're sure you don't want to know whether it's a boy or a girl?"

He inclined his head at her belly, as if she needed the clarification but he did it anyway like a total arsehole, and she sucked in a breath. "Are you saying -"

Her eyes were wide, disbelieving. The others were just staring, unmoving on the terrace. Draco wondered whether he could feel his way down the thread without dropping his shade of occlumency.

But he really didn't need to. He was curious to verify it, because it had happened so fast before he'd blocked it, but he knew. He did know. He'd sensed it, clear as day. But why now? There must have been some critical cognitive connection in development, something he'd never understand. Granger probably would, though. The irony almost made him smile.

He saw Padma whisper something to Parvati, something he caught and he was sure Granger hadn't. But it didn't matter. His eyes were on her. Did she want to keep it a secret?

She studied him. He knew she was running down what had happened. He knew. He knew and he'd have to keep it from her for another six weeks, at least. Well, probably. Hopefully. The longer the better, when it came down to it, but that was hard. It was only going to get harder and the occlumency meant their connection would be hampered.

He felt her debate, her internal fight. She loved their connection. For something that had come upon her unwillingly and without warning, she cherished it. She didn't want his occlumency wall there and he didn't know how well he could have it up halfway. How well he could block something this huge. Every second of every day. Every time he looked at her, thought about her pregnancy, thought about their future as a family of three. Shit. Bloody fucking hell. He knew his eyes were just as wide as hers.

How had he felt it? She couldn't. It wasn't part of the standard pregnant-woman superpowers to sense the foetus like that. And he was the only male Veela on the planet. There was no one else to ask. No Ronan. No Ronan and Rose, even though there should have been.

He was glad for the occlumency now. His throat felt thick.

Granger was still debating. She was biting her lip so hard he was worried she was going to break the skin. Padma was reaching for her hand, whispering something.

Draco turned inwards and tested the boundaries of the occlumency. Could he pull back just enough to feel the thread, without ruining it for her? Just a little? He crept it forward, a tiny bit at a time. He wanted to feel it again. He couldn't deny it. He just wanted to feel the baby.

Granger got to feel the baby in all sorts of tactile ways. So did he, some. He could feel the baby kick, if his hand was in the right place at the right time, and he got distinct flashes of the discomfort when Granger needed to pee without warning, or when the baby was pressing against her spine, trying to make room for himself as he grew.

The pleasant feeling, the floating, the almost-dazed contented existence. When Granger had laughed, their shared joy.

He yanked the occlumency back up. It hurt his heart to do it, to block off that second connection now. Now that he knew it was there, he wanted to feel it. He wanted to sense it all the time.

Granger's eyes widened again. Her mouth dropped slightly open and his heart almost stopped. He'd mirrored it all unconsciously, that joyous feeling of simple existence. The happiness shared from mother to baby to… to father. To mother again.

They'd both forgotten the others. His eyes were only on her. What did she want? He could give it to her, either way. He would do it. Whatever she wanted, he'd do.

"Tell me," she whispered at last. "I want to share it with you."

"Are you sure?" Draco managed with difficulty.

"Yes," Granger said, moving to take his hand. It was slightly distant, still, as if her mind was still intently trying to read the thread instead of his face. "I want to experience what you do, for whatever time is left."

To tell her verbally or just drop the wall to let her in?

There really wasn't a question. The first option would serve their guests, but they weren't Draco's concern. He let the occlumency shade fall away.

She absorbed it and he bathed in her stunned awe. He felt her soak it in, the feeling, the connection. He did the same, into both of theirs. Into his wife's; his son's.

After another loaded internal moment, Granger doubled over and clapped her hands in glee.

"DJ!"

Draco groaned.

Begun May 3, 2023
Completed June 23, 2023