The crisp wind stung her face as she picked Rose up from the sitter she'd hired to watch the little girl on her weeks. While she knew she could have continued using Fleur, Hermione felt uncomfortable interacting with the family she'd decided to abandon. Ron had insisted that Fleur didn't see it that way, but Hermione wasn't ready to face the French witch yet.
Looking down at her daughter, Hermione smiled at how peaceful and content her daughter was as they made their way home. It was Christmas Eve, and due to the holiday, she'd been given altered hours to allow her to spend time with Rose. She would meet with Ron tomorrow since she still had to work on the holiday.
That was part of working in healthcare. Regardless, she was always needed.
"What do you think, Rosie?" Hermione cooed into her daughter's knitted hat. "Do you think Santa is going to bring you gifts tonight?" The toddler only screamed and giggled, not understanding what Hermione was saying.
Juggling her keys, Hermione opened the door to her little flat and slipped inside. A wave of her hand lit a fire, and instantly, the room began to warm. Rose wiggled until Hermione had set her down and removed her coat, mittens, and hat. The little snow boots that she wore went on the rack, and off Rose went to find her toys in her room.
Hermione had hardly gotten her scarf off before the harsh ringing of the doorbell had her jumping. Glancing at her watch made her realise how late it was, most likely the takeout she'd ordered before leaving work.
That was one of her favourite things about the muggle world that was lacking in wizarding society. Nothing topped being able to call and place an order for delivery when you knew you wouldn't feel like cooking, something that happened more and more as Hermione's pregnancy progressed. Another harsh bell sounded, and Hermione called out to the door. Tossing her coat to the side and shuffling through her purse, she pulled a handful of bills out that would cover the cost of the food.
A third ring at the door had Hermione ready to pull the tip from the wad in her hand just as she ripped the door open. Any ire she had been feeling before quickly dissolved as she realised it was not the takeout she had hoped for.
"You're fucking pregnant!?" Pansy shouted, her sage eyes wide and furious as she took in Hermione's appearance. The snow in her hair melted instantly, her magic pulsating off her in waves that made Hermione back away from the door. "Are you fucking kidding me!? You take off for months! Sending cryptic fucking letters that you're doing alright! I have to go to the Weasel King's flat to see my Goddaughter and put a tracker on her to find you up the duff!" Pansy stalked into the room, the fur coat she wore drifting from her shoulders and neatly racking itself on the hook.
"Do you know what we've been through? We've been looking for you for the last three months!" Pansy continued. Her usually pale face was a bright red, and her sleek hair was now sticking upright, making her look even more terrifying.
"I- I wrote to you. I said I needed a break from the wizarding world to sort myself out…" Hermione trailed off, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as Pansy moved even closer to her.
"Who's the father, Granger?" Pansy asked, her eyes glued to the round belly sticking out the bottom of Hermione's scrubs.
"Pansy…" Hermione started, but a burst of magic shattered a decorative vase on an end table.
"Don't you Pansy me! Who. Is. The. Father!?" Pansy shouted.
"Is it Malfoy?" A male voice asked, causing both witches to turn their attention to the other room occupant, who had gone entirely unnoticed until then.
Harry stepped up next to his wife, resting a hand on her shoulder. There were noticeable dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and Hermione could feel her heart clench at the very idea that she'd been the cause.
"He might be," Hermione murmured, but both had heard her perfectly fine.
"The other option? Gods, tell me it's not Weasley." Pansy said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"It's uh." Hermione looked between the married couple, her face flushed as she whispered, "Theodore Nott."
The only sound in the sitting room was the crackling of the fire. Pulling at her collar, Hermione was aware of how warm she was feeling, and the stares her closest friends were giving her only made her body heat even more.
"That's a joke, right?" Pansy asked, turning towards Harry before returning her full attention to Hermione. "My gods, it makes so much sense…" Pansy sighed, turning and moving into the sitting room, dropping into one of the overly plush seats.
The other witch didn't give Hermione a chance to offer any refreshments. With a wave of her wand, a full tea cart she appeared out of thin air with everything that suited to Pansy's delicate pallet. At least, that's always what the other woman had said when Hermione used to question her about it.
Another wave and the teapot began to float, expertly filling three cups with hot water. The tea bag seeped in the steaming water, a soothing smell filling the air as their breathing was the only thing that filled the space. Uncapping a potion, Hermione recognised the calming draft that Pansy added to only her cup before she finished with the milk and sugar.
Once she had her special tea, Pansy took a breath and sipped. Harry dutifully sat beside his wife, though his eyes roamed Hermione. There wasn't any malice that she could see, but she knew Harry well enough to sense when he was disappointed.
Hermione's entire body felt like a string wound tight and about to burst at any moment. Pansy's perfectly red lips were on the fine China porcelain with an actual gold rim, and hand-painted pansies skillfully decorated the delicate porcelain.
"Hermione," Pansy said after much too long. Her shoulders were pulled back, her posture perfect. She gently set the cup and saucer on the table before her. "It's an understatement how intelligent you are. Your NEWT scores were the highest the Ministry had ever seen since Dumbledore. Despite your age, you outscored every healer in training and quickly climbed the ladder at St. Mungo's. You were able to not only convince the stuffy Wizengamot to allow you to integrate muggle technology into healing, but you were also successful in this task."
Pansy reached out for her tea, taking another drink. Scrunching her nose, she summoned the calming draft and added a few more drops, drinking the rest of the mix.
"Pansy, I–"
"Don't be rude. I know you might not have been taught manners, but you will wait until I've finished," Pansy snapped. Hermione looked towards Harry, but the bloody coward wasn't even looking at either of the witches. Instead, his eyes were trained on the grandfather clock on the other side of the room.
"With all those brains, how utterly stupid you can be is astounding." Pansy's eyes turned on her, the sage green a low simmer behind the thick lashes. "What do you know about Theodore Nott? Know about him."
Hermione was stunned, silent. She knew that Theo was possessive and had been second in their year, right behind her. She knew that he would do anything in his power to continue his affair with Draco.
"Not much," Hermione admitted, looking down at her hands.
"Theodore Nott grew up with everything and nothing at all simultaneously." Pansy continued, her lips pursed together as she studied Hermione's face. "His father was awful. The man brutally murdered his mother in front of him when he was only twelve. If you are indeed carrying his child, you need to know that this won't be like it was with Ron. He may not be abusive like his father, but he's nothing if not…possessive. There is no place you can hide that he will not find you. I'm unsure if that's good or bad at this point."
Pansy had a new cup of tea in her hands, sipping it down, closing her eyes as the warm liquid coated her throat. "It makes sense that the baby could be either of theirs. Draco is the only other person that Theo has ever cared for in his way. If you'd been sleeping with Draco and Theo hadn't approved, well. Let's say Astoria's lucky she's still breathing."
All of this, absolutely every word should have been repulsive to Hermione. Only the opposite was true. Her breath had hitched, and the idea of someone so obsessed with her being willing to burn the world to the ground just for her was beyond appealing. The little girl in her womb fluttered and kicked at the increased heart rate, and Hermione's hand subconsciously drifted down to pat her daughter soothingly.
"When are you due?" Pansy asked, her eyes now fixed on where Hermione's hand rested.
"Mid-April, it's another girl," Hermione answered, causing Pansy to groan. "What?"
"Circe, help you when Theo gets his hands on you," Pansy muttered, taking another sip of her tea before vanishing the entire set. "Anyway, enough about Theodore Nott and the trouble you'll be in once he catches you. It's Christmas Eve, and I now have two Goddaughters to tend to. Honestly, Hermione. Sometimes, being me can be such a burden."
"Pansy…" Hermione trailed off as the raven-haired witch disappeared down the hall to where Rose was quietly playing. "Harry, what?"
Harry only shrugged his shoulders and adjusted his glasses. Ruffling a hand through his messy hair, Harry looked even more chaotic than usual.
"Nott's been snooping around the Ministry. Your situation explains what he's been looking for now," Harry stated, his eyes on her belly. Unlike Pansy, however, his face softened as he leaned forward and pressed his palm to where her daughter was resting. "Does she have a name yet?" He asked, his emerald eyes bright.
Hermione shook her head. She had a few ideas but had yet to decide for her newest little lady.
"It's alright. I'm sure Harietta will win out this time," Harry joked, leaning over and whispering to his future Goddaughter. "I promise I'll convince Mummy it's a good name."
Hermione couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of her at how absurd her best friend was. Regardless of anything else that her future held, Hermione knew that Harry would have her back. However, as she watched him soothingly speak to her unborn daughter, Hermione's thoughts wandered back to Pansy's warning about Theo.
Perhaps cautiously reaching out to the wizard wouldn't be the worst idea. If nothing else, to let them both know that she was safe.
Draco's silver eyes and the soft lingering touches she felt long after they'd parted were nearly engrained in her now. She craved him in a way she couldn't describe. The easy way he would laugh and the way he would happily debate with her on her various passions. She could discuss her work with him, and he'd listen intently and contribute but would help her in whatever pursuit she was after.
On the other hand, Theo was the dark and brooding man who sent a shiver up her spine. His possessive nature made her feel wanted in a way she didn't know she needed. His desire for her was nearly overwhelming, but she would forever be drawn into that inferno.
Watching Pansy as she sat on the floor, pulling box after box filled with clothes and toys for Rose, Hermione smiled in the direction of her daughter. Though, her thoughts were only full of her wizards.
Notes:
Ah, we are coming to the end. I finally committed myself to an outline and landed at ten chapters for this fic. I'm hoping I can finish this within the next two weeks. Buckle up, the next chapter is the one that has lived in my head rent-free since this plunny came into existence.