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Chapter 30

We were met with the excited squeals of my grandson when Draco opened the door. Scorpius instantly flung himself at Hermione, who lifted him up into their ritual bear hug. I winced internally, keeping my face as passive as possible. We'd not told anyone about Hermione's pregnancy, deciding to wait until Christmas Day to share our news. But that didn't lessen my concerns about her over exerting herself.

I'd already expressed several times that I thought she should slow down and not push herself so hard. But she'd just patted my head condescendingly, explaining calmly that dancing was her job, that her body was used to it, and that she wouldn't give it up completely. She also explained that she'd already run through her dance schedule with her doctor, who had suggested some adjustments, and the ballet company had agreed. She wouldn't dance in performances — she feared slipping and falling, and didn't want her dance partners to feel nervous handling her — however she would continue to train. She'd assured me she would reduce her training hours, replacing them with yoga or Pilates, but I wasn't convinced.

She allowed me to talk to her doctor, who in turn assured me that women who are highly active before a healthy pregnancy should be able to continue exercise without any adverse effects. She explained it would actually be more beneficial to Hermione's pregnancy to continue her dance classes — albeit at slightly less intensity — and that she knew her body well enough she would know when to slow down.

I'd calmed considerably, but I wasn't fully assuaged.

"Merr Chrimas, Gah-pa!" Scorpius waved over Hermione's shoulder. "Santa bring presents, Nee!"

"Ooh, what did he bring?" Hermione asked excitedly, glancing back at me and grinning, knowing exactly what I was thinking. "Can you show me?"

Scorpius wriggled in her arms and she lowered him to the floor, allowing him to drag her into the living room. Draco and I followed, my son taking the bag of gifts from me and placing it beneath the tree as I shrugged out of my coat.

"Merry Christmas, Lucius," Katie greeted, hugging me and kissing my cheek. "Scorpius still loves you."

"I know," I replied, returning her hug. "Just like his father, he loves the pretty girls."

"And I learned it from you, Father," Draco said, squeezing Hermione's shoulder as she knelt on the floor beside Scorpius, ooh-ing and ah-ing at his new tricycle. "Only the prettiest girls for the Malfoy men."

"Don't be like your Daddy and Gah-pa, Scorp," Hermione scruffed Scorpius's blond hair. "You love everyone equally, alright?"

"Scor loves Nee," he said, smiling.

"Oh, baby, Nee loves you too."

My grandson frowned, then — in what appeared to be a second thought — looked at me. "Scor loves Gah-pa."

Draco laughed and slapped my back. "Merry Christmas, Father. Your gift this year is second place. Do you want a scotch to drown your sorrows?"

"I don't need to drown any sorrows," I said, sitting on the sofa. "But I'll take the scotch."

"Hermione?" Draco asked, holding up a bottle of red wine. "A sneaky glass before you head back to Paris?"

A twinge of guilt twisted my insides.

We'd returned to Paris after my book tour just long enough for Hermione to tell the ballet director she was pregnant and wouldn't be finishing the season, and to pack our belongings. We made the decision not to announce we were back in London, instead leaving everyone to believe we were still in Paris. Without any visible injuries, we would be hard pressed to explain our early return.

"No, thank you." Hermione glanced at me and I nodded. It was the perfect opening.

"We're not returning to Paris," I said.

"Why?" Katie asked, surprised. Then quickly, and worriedly, looked at Hermione. "Are you injured?"

"Can you play with the new dinosaurs for a minute, Scorp?" She tapped the bright blue bucket filled with cartoonish looking dinosaurs, "Gah-pa and Nee have to talk to Mummy and Daddy."

Scorpius nodded, unconcerned, and upended the bucket.

Hermione sat beside me, taking my hand in hers and linking our fingers.

"You should tell them." Hermione's hand squeezed mine; she'd been nervous as to how they might react.

"We're not returning to Paris," I repeated, smiling at Hermione then turning to look at my son and daughter-in-law on the sofa opposite us, both looking concerned. "Hermione has decided not to continue performing right now because she's pregnant."

The sound of the clock on the mantel ticked loudly in the silence that followed.

"No…" Katie said slowly. "You're not…"

"I am," Hermione began, but Katie was out of her seat and pulling Hermione to her feet in a matter of seconds.

"This is amazing," Katie laugh-cried, reaching for me, dragging me into her excitement. "This is so amazing."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "We're kind of amazed ourselves."

"Draco?"

My son hadn't reacted. He was watching us as his wife celebrated, but his expression was unreadable. He sipped his scotch then put the glass on the side table, his gaze flicking to Scorpius, lingering before looking back at me.

"You always wanted more children."

"I did," I answered. "That doesn't mean you were never enough."

He nodded, then I saw it. The click of his throat, the shimmer of tears in his eyes as he blinked quickly.

"I always wanted a brother or sister." He embraced me fiercely, congratulating me in a whisper as he choked back more tears. "This is amazing."

"There's more," Hermione said as Draco took his turn hugging her.

"A brother and a sister?"

"No," she laughed, "but you might want to sit down.

"That doesn't sound concerning at all." Draco looked between us as he and Katie resumed their seats.

"So, I have something called POI." She launched into a quick explanation, "and because of all that, I didn't think this was possible. Lucius and I had planned to talk to specialists after we came back from Paris to see if it was a possibility."

"Clearly you didn't need to," Katie said.

"No, but since POI affects normal cycles, I never know when I'll ovulate." Her mouth twisted into a smile, "The last time was almost two years ago, and this time was apparently four months ago."

Both their jaws dropped and I chuckled, seeing my own expression when she told me the same thing.

"Four months," Katie whispered, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," Hermione said with a small laugh. "That was my exact reaction."

"How did you know? Have you been sick?" Draco asked, rubbing Katie's back. She'd been incredibly ill for over half her pregnancy.

"No, not physically. I've just been exhausted all the time. I did actually think there was something seriously wrong, that's why I came home to see my doctor. And you can imagine my shock when she told me my test results."

"I can't believe this," Katie said, and tears began rolling down her cheeks. "You two have been through so much shit. I'm so happy you found each other."

"Shit!" Scorpius yelled, crashing two dinosaurs together. "Shit!"

"The one word he picks up…" Katie grumbled as we all laughed. "Don't say that, sweetheart. Mummy said a bad word."

"Shit bad word?"

"That's right. A very bad word."

He toddled over and handed her the dinosaur. "Why Mummy cry?"

"Happy tears, sweetheart." She lifted him to sit on her lap. "Nee has a baby in her tummy. So we're all very happy."

He frowned at us both. "Gah-pa baby tummy too?"

Draco snorted. "Nah, Gah-pa just helped Nee put her baby in her tummy."

"Shit, Gah-pa," Scorpius said, clapping his hands when we all broke up laughing.

"You need to find somewhere else to live," Pansy grouched, flopping down on the sofa. "Preferably with a lift."

We'd eaten lunch and spent the afternoon with Draco, Katie, and Scorpius, swapping gifts and enjoying my grandson's excitement, which eventually caught up with him and knocked him out by early evening. Hermione wasn't faring much better, but we'd already made plans for Pansy and Harry to stop by. And she was eager to tell them she wasn't returning to Paris.

"Why are you whinging?" Hermione asked. "Harry's carrying Albus."

Albus was strapped in the carrier on Harry's chest. He was sleeping soundly, despite the bumpy climb up the stairs.

Pansy pointed at the large bag she'd dumped on the floor. "That bag weighs more than my baby. Harry got off easy."

"I doubt that," Hermione huffed in disbelief, lifting the bag as if to prove her point and grunting in surprise. "What the fuck is in this thing?"

"A million nappies, bottles, wipes, about ten changes of clothes — for him and me," Pansy answered smugly. "Blankets, change mat, disposable bags, breast pads… do you want me to continue?"

"He's two months old," Hermione exclaimed.

"And your point is…?"

"Can I lay him on your bed?" Harry asked me. "It might be a while before these two work this out."

I answered in the affirmative, asking if he needed help. He shook his head, lifting the bag in question and heading down the hallway.

"He'll be okay," Hermione asked. "Albus , I mean. On the bed."

"He'll be fine," Pansy said. "He doesn't move around, and he'll probably sleep until we leave."

"You're both much more confident with him," I noted. "You've gotten past the nervous first-time parents phase?"

"I think we got lucky," Pansy said. "He's such a good baby. He hardly cries or fusses. That's helped relax us both."

"So, he got Harry's personality then," Hermione's eyebrow lifted in a snarky tease.

Pansy showed Hermione her middle finger then turned to me. "How was your book tour?"

I shrugged. "I don't really enjoy that aspect of my career, but it wasn't nearly as painful as I'd anticipated."

"Well, it must have been reasonably successful. Your book is on top of all the bestseller lists."

"Did Hermione read it yet?" Harry asked, re-entering the room and sitting heavily beside Pansy. Despite her explanation of Albus being a dream baby, they both looked exhausted.

"I did," Hermione answered. "And Lucius didn't disappoint me."

"Does he ever?" Pansy asked, the little twist in her smile telling me I didn't want to know the things Hermione had told her.

"Rarely," Hermione answered, reaching for my hand. "I mean, he got me pregnant."

"Excuse me?" Pansy sat up. "He did what to you?"

"He got her pregnant," Harry answered. He stood quickly and had Hermione in a tight embrace before Pansy could slap him for being smart. "He got you pregnant."

"Yeah, he did." Hermione choked on her tears. Her arms were wrapped around Harry's neck and my chest constricted.

I had Draco and Katie and Scorpius. Hermione and Harry had each other. They were two orphans with no real family of their own. They had found each other and they'd shared more heartbreak and grief, more love and happiness than I could fathom. Hermione was my wife and lover, she was the soon-to-be mother of our child, but Harry was her family, and she was his.

"You're having a baby," Harry whispered.

"I know. I still can't believe it."

"You got your wish."

"I really did."

Harry held her face in his hands, smiling warmly at her. "I'm so happy for you."

Pansy punched me lightly on the arm. "You've achieved the impossible, Malfoy. What the hell kind of magic do you have in that wand of yours? "

Harry groaned and Hermione laughed, wiping her tears.

"No magic," I told Pansy. "Just good timing."

"So, Bora Bora was definitely good for you both," Pansy said, hugging Hermione, her hard-arse act breaking slightly as her eyes glistened with tears.

"Actually, I was pregnant before our holiday. I just had no idea. And we only found out about two weeks ago."

"What?!" Pansy and Harry exclaimed in unison.

"My doctor estimated I was at about fourteen weeks when she did the scan, and that was two weeks ago. It was the absolute last thing I ever imagined."

"Wait," Harry said, holding up his hand. "You've been dancing all this time and you travelled halfway around the world. Everything's okay, yeah? With you and the baby?"

"My doctor assured me that continuing dancing won't do us any harm. And you know I rarely drink, which didn't change when we were in the South Pacific." She squeezed my arm. "Lucius has had some concerns, so I've promised to lessen my schedule, and swap some dance classes for yoga and Pilates. I won't be doing any more performances until after the baby is born and the company has suggested I keep my feet firmly on the floor."

"Good," Harry said firmly. "Everyone is looking out for you. And you can add me to that list of people."

"I'm fine, Harry, and our baby is healthy.," she assured him. "The scans all indicated nothing I've done in the last four months has caused any problems."

I retrieved the picture frame from my desk drawer — glad of the fact it would now have a permanent place atop it — and handed it to Harry, liking him even more for his concern for Hermione. There were no real details that backed up her assurances, but at least he could see the baby.

Pansy peered over his shoulder, unable to hide her smile.

"This is how you told him?" she asked and Hermione nodded. "And he didn't have a heart attack?"

I tapped my chest. "My heart may have stopped for a few beats, but no heart attacks were had."

"You're four months pregnant." Pansy hugged Hermione again. "This is completely insane, you know that, right?"

Hermione laughed. "It absolutely is."

"And who knew this old bloke had it in him." Pansy winked at me over Hermione's shoulder. "We didn't have to get you those educational movies after all."

Harry held his hand out towards me and I shook it. He hesitated slightly then pulled me into a quick hug.

"Congratulations, Lucius. Thank you for making her so happy."

"I'll accept your congratulations," I said. "Your thanks, however, is unnecessary since Hermione has done the same for me."

I found Hermione standing with her arms crossed over her chest, staring at the bedroom wall when I finished in the bathroom. Dressed in a pair of pyjama pants with dancing avocados all over them and a simple cotton singlet, she was unmoving, her head tilted slightly to one side, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Is this a pregnancy attribute I wasn't aware of? Staring blankly at walls?"

"No," she murmured, shaking her head slowly. "I was just thinking."

I watched her for a minute. Her lips twisted and she frowned. Her mouth moved with silent words.

"Hermione?"

"Do you like living here?" she asked. "In this building? In this flat?"

"I do," I answered honestly. "But if you don't, we can look at other options."

"I like it here," she said wistfully, still staring at the wall.

I crossed the room and stood behind her, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. "So, what is it that you're thinking about then?"

"We have two flats," she said. "We're always in this one though."

I'd never considered where we lived. She had fitted so naturally into my space, and most of her stuff had made its way here. The thought of her missing her flat hadn't occurred to me.

"Did you want to live in yours?"

"No, I was just thinking about what Pansy said." She leaned back into me and I slipped my arms around her waist. "We'll have a baby soon, and I don't think the communal stairs will be conducive to that."

"Are you suggesting we find a new home?"

"Maybe." She shrugged one shoulder, "It's just… we have history here. Not years of history but it's where we met." She huffed a laugh. "And where you first heard me."

I kissed her shoulder, laughing quietly with her. "Yes, that wall definitely has a history of its own."

"Is that important?"she asked. "The history, I mean. Not the thumping."

"I like that our flats represent each of us. This is the place where we first met, and where we started. And while those things are definitely important, we still appear to think of these flats as yours and mine. We can certainly find somewhere that is ours, if that's what you want."

"Is that what you want?" She turned in my arms, her expression serious. "You've changed so much of your life for me already. I don't want you to feel forced, or obliged, just because I want to have a home and a garden of our own for our baby to grow up in."

I smiled, squeezing her shoulders. "I think you've already decided. And moving elsewhere to make you feel more comfortable isn't an obligation. It's a decision that needs no further discussion."

"Lucius—"

I pressed a finger against her lips. "A home with a garden sounds perfect."

"You're not buying us a house," she said, firmly. "If we're doing this, we'll sell both our flats and will buy a house together."

"I wouldn't dare suppose otherwise."

"Ha!" she barked. "You were already thinking otherwise."

I pulled her towards me, wrapping my arms around her and smiling against her crown. She knew me far too well. I would give her the world if she wanted it. The moon and stars as well. My mad ballerina deserved every shard of joy the world had to offer. For me, it was much simpler: I got to love this smart, talented, gorgeous woman who made my life easy.

I glanced at the wall, remembering my anger at those first thumps. I never imagined what those thumps would lead to. She'd pushed me along a trajectory I hadn't been expecting, teaching me to live again. To love again. To look through the darkness and see only light.

"A house with a garden," I said quietly. "And a wife and a baby."

"Not what you were expecting when you moved in here?"

"No. I never could have imagined the life you've given me. You're my favourite person. You make me happy. And wherever you are, that's home."