Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

Muggle Art - Task 9 - Write a fic in the setting of Paris, France

Auction: D1, A2 - (plot point) Not saying goodbye to someone

W/C: 2,322

Summary: Hermione finds herself a very happy life in Paris, including love with Lucius Malfoy. But is an unexpected pregnancy about to change everything?

Is anything a mistake?

Moving to another country is always a scary adventure in life. When the opportunity to move to Paris came up for Hermione, to work in their Ministry, she had been hesitant to say the least. She didn't know the language, none of her friends and family were there, and what if she hated the job?

With some encouragement from Harry, Ron, and her parents, Hermione eventually took the job. They were right, if she didn't settle in after six months, she could move back home. What she never expected was to bump into Lucius Malfoy barely a month after moving to the French capital.

She had been working late one night, still going through all the files she needed to get herself up to date on, when Hermione quite literally walked into Lucius as she exited the building and he was entering it. He was at the Ministry to drop off some paperwork, having been doing work with them on Dark artefacts, but had been living in Paris for the past two years, not wanting to stay in England after his wife had died.

While Hermione was enjoying her time in Paris, she was desperately lonely, so when Lucius asked if she'd wanted to get a glass of wine with him before she went home, Hermione didn't hesitate to say yes. They might not have been remotely on talking terms after all those years since the war, but that didn't mean they couldn't start now.

The one glass of wine turned into a bottle. A bottle of wine turned into a meal. The meal became another one, then a show at the Théâtre du Châtelet, and then reasons to meet up for lunch or coffee soon followed. After a month of this, a kiss was shared in a narrow street as Parisians laughed nearby.

Three years later, Hermione was living with Lucius in a spacious apartment that had the most perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. Every night they would sit on the balcony, come rain or shine, and drink wine while they discussed their day, just to look at the lights of the city, twinkling like the stars.

She wasn't sure she could've been happier. She loved her job, she had learnt the language, she'd made new friends through work, and she saw her friends and family all the time. Not to mention that she'd somehow found love when she wasn't looking for it. And she was living in a city that couldn't have felt more like home if it had tried.

It was perfect.

Until a mistake happened.

But is anything a mistake?

It started with a feeling of something not quite right. Hermione couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe she was tired; she had been working long hours recently to finish up her recent project on making relationships better with goblins. And Lucius had been suggesting a little holiday back to England, to spend time with Scorpius, as well as Harry and Ron's children. They were growing up so fast.

Then Hermione started craving junk food, mainly french fries. In fact, it wasn't so much a craving as a need. She couldn't think straight until she'd had her first salty fry. It didn't matter what time of day it was, which was a problem if it hit her in the morning. Hermione hated junk food.

When her work trousers would no longer fasten, Hermione couldn't deny it to herself anymore.

To say she was distracted in work was an understatement, and after she'd accidentally locked herself into her office twice, Hermione decided to go home early and talk to Lucius. She took her usual favourite route through the Jardin des Tuileries, deciding to enjoy an ice cream as she sat at one of the seats situated by a fountain. Paris had been going through a heatwave, and while it didn't usually bother Hermione to walk home when the weather was like this, today it was oppressive. It was almost like her brain was subconsciously making her drag out going home to tell Lucius while the weather wanted to make her get home and get it over with.

Hermione sighed to herself as she finished her vanilla ice cream, feeling a little sick from it, and fanned herself with one of the thin folders she had in her large bag. Sweat trickled down her back making her feel uncomfortable, yet she couldn't bring herself to continue her walk home. She'd never really thought about having children before and Lucius had made it clear that he was too old to be considering more children. He just wanted to spoil his grandson, and when no one was looking, the Potter and Weasley children too. Almost like he was making up for past behaviours to their fathers.

A woman sat down in the next seat, giving her the flash of a smile, and set up a travel easel. She dropped a large black bag with paintbrushes sticking out between their chairs. Hermione sat up a little to watch her pull out a canvas and put it on the easel, before pulling out a wooden palette and began the process of laying out a few dollops of oil paint colours on it. The woman wasted no time in using a thin palette knife to start dabbing green paint on the blank canvas. Hermione had watched the woman paint a row of trees to match the ones lined up along the paths of the public garden and an hour had passed before she'd realised.

She couldn't delay talking to Lucius anymore. Hermione wasn't sure why she was dragging her feet so much, it was something in her gut telling her that this situation was going to change everything somehow, and not for the better.

It was a half an hour walk from the garden to their apartment, but it felt like Hermione had done it in five minutes, time racing a head, as it liked to do when one was dreading an event. She was hot, sticky, and flustered by the time she was stood outside their apartment door with her heart thudding hard against her chest.

"I guess it's now or never," she muttered to herself.

The apartment was blissfully cool when she entered it, which seemed to calm her a little. Lucius could be heard whistling a tune somewhere down the hallway, obviously in a very good mood as he rarely whistled. Hermione took a deep breath, dumped her bag by the door and went in search of him.

Hermione found him in the living room, tying a teal cravat in front of a mirror above the small fireplace. Lucius half-turned, a smile lighting up his face. "Welcome home."

Hermione swallowed against an inexplicable lump in her throat, silently going to him and hugging him tightly from behind as he continued to tie his cravat.

"What's this for?" he asked with a small laugh.

"It's just been a weird day." She nuzzled her cheek against the back of the waistcoat he was wearing, the silk material smooth against her skin. "Are you going somewhere?"

"It's the gala, remember?"

Hermione blinked hard, not wanting to move yet so he couldn't see her face. Lucius tapped at her hands when he tried to face her. "What's the matter?"

"Would you hate me if I didn't go? I've not been very well today."

Lucius pulled at her hands, moving quickly to look at her with concern in his eyes. He gently held her chin to make her look up at him. "What is it?"

Hermione shook her head, pulling his hand down and holding it tightly. "Nothing serious. It's probably the heat. I promise."

Narcissa had died unexpectedly. Any time someone was a little under the weather, Lucius would panic because Narcissa had gotten a fever and was gone before they knew what was happening.

She kissed the back of his hand before straightening his cravat and fastening his waistcoat for him. "Is this new?" she asked, trying to distract him. It was teal with delicate gold stitching on the edges and had sea green buttons that shimmered under the light. She traced the edge of a button with her fingertip.

"When isn't my clothing new?" He pulled at her hands. "Are you sure it's nothing? You do look pale."

"Nothing a glass of water and a good night's sleep won't fix," she said with a smile. She couldn't bring herself to tell him. Not yet.

And then…

Lucius turned back to the mirror to check his cravat, smiling at her in the reflection. "I spoke to Draco today."

Hermione hmm'ed as she moved to sit on the couch, tucking her legs under. The weight off her feet felt amazing. Lucius didn't say anything for a moment. "What's happened?" she finally asked.

"He's got his girlfriend pregnant."

Hermione felt like her own secret was all over her face as heat flushed through her body. She focused on picking at a loose thread on the arm of the couch. "You don't sound impressed by this news," Hermione said evenly. "They have been together for a year now and you've seen how much he loves Katie."

"He's forty-two, Hermione," he said with a heavy sigh. He moved to pick up his jacket from the chair. "Scorpius is nearly finished with school."

"Might I remind you that my parents were forty when they had me," Hermione said quietly. She could feel her heart racing. Was she about to decide between her final chance to be a mother or the love of her life?

"They were married and hadn't had any children before. It was all new for them." Lucius looked at her when she didn't acknowledge what he was saying, pausing for a moment as he started to put his jacket on. "I meant no offence to your parents. They did a delightful job raising you," Lucius said, giving her a crooked smile.

Hermione forced herself to laugh, but it came out in an odd breath."My parents did want more, though. They'd run out of time."

Lucius straightened out the lapels of his dark green jacket, the couch dipped heavily when he joined her. He put a hand on her knee, his thumb feeling reassuring as it rubbed back and forth over the material of her trousers. "You want children?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she said honestly. And she wasn't sure, but the predicament was forcing her to face a question she'd not had to answer before.

When she looked at Lucius he had an expression of… disappointment?

"I'm being silly," she said when she couldn't bear the way he was looking at her anymore. "It just surprised me when you said Draco was going to be a father again. It does make you think when you reach a certain age."

Lucius didn't stop looking at her the way he was. He gave her a brief smile before saying, "I can't give you children, Hermione. I never wanted more than the one."

Her stomach sank as Hermione processed that information. It wasn't new, but it was confirming that nothing would change Lucius' mind. It also revealed to herself that she wanted this baby, even if he didn't.

"Lucius," she said, her voice barely a whisper and trembling.

He knew instantly. She could see it in the way he tilted his head and a frown appeared. "How?"

"I don't know." She hated the way she sounded like a child being told off.

"Did you do this on purpose?"

Hermione shoved his hand off her knee like she'd been burnt at his tone. It was full of ice and very much like the times he'd spoken to her before the Second War. "The fact that you think I would do that to you—"

She couldn't finish her thoughts. She got up, slapping away his hands trying to stop her. She ignored his calls to her. "Enjoy your gala," she snapped over her shoulder as she slammed the bedroom door shut.

At least Lucius knew her well enough to not come after her. Instead, he paused at the door, the shadow of his feet could be seen at the bottom of the door. "I didn't mean that, my love," he said through the door. "I'll give you your space and we'll talk when I get home later."

Hermione bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself from saying anything. If she did, she would cry and then he would stay, she didn't want to talk about it when she was still stinging from his question.

"Hermione?" He tapped on the door. "I love you."

He waited another minute before giving up on her responding or even saying goodbye. She'd never done that before. No matter what words they'd had with each other, they'd always parted with a kiss, even when the other was still sleeping. She was just too raw from his accusation, for him to briefly think that she would do something like that to him. There was no coming back from that.

An hour later, when Hermione had made a silent decision to go home to England, permanently, and had begun packing her things, Lucius Malfoy had left the gala early. He would tell her he was being an idiot, that he loved her and he would be proud to be the father of her child, that he would protect them both, no matter what.

He would pull out the ring he'd been keeping on him for the last seven weeks, waiting for the right moment to ask a very important question, and he would finally ask it.

He would have done all that if not for the fact Lucius Malfoy had crossed a busy Parisian street while his thoughts were busy on becoming a father for the second time and walked directly into the path of a speeding car.

He never saw it coming.