"See, this is tasteful," Harry carelessly tossed the newest issue of Witch Weekly on Malfoy's kitchen island, his emeralds tracking the blond wizard, just barely, patiently keeping himself busy. Well, he couldn't really blame him, the last couple months have been chaotic. Between investigating the break in and Hermione's campaign schedule, his friend's new beau can't have been getting the best rest. I know I would be a wreck, Harry silently thought, checking his watch. They had about a half hour before their group had to Apparate to Mrs. Malfoy's event, it was taking longer than it should have. His best friend had been working too much, pulling together all the last-minute details of her big night, and then for the last week, she felt simply drained—will this woman ever learn?
The two wizards stood at the island working on their security detail, waiting on the two witches upstairs. Malfoy was to escort the woman of honor around the ballroom, keeping hands and hexes from reaching her. Meanwhile, Harry and four of his Aurors would scour the first floor from the distance, being sure to catch any suspicious activity. In each balcony there would be two men stationed, although, they would be inconspicuous. If everyone played their part right, no one would be the wiser that the event would be fraught with security.
Draco calmly ran through multiple scenarios in his head, the ever-present feeling of a sort of antsy, and nauseous anticipation for the night flitted through his nerves, both his own and Hermione's. He was confident the evening would go according to plan, but one could never be too sure. His Dea was to concentrate on nothing but her goal. The wizard promised to make the gala proceed as smoothly as possible. Glancing at his watch, for what was probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes, Draco plucked the staff ledger up to go over once more.
"Relax, Malfoy, everything will be all right." Emerald eyes rolled to the ceiling when the wizard now reading across from Harry, offhandedly checked his person one more time for his wand.
"That is what I am planning for, however, you can't know that for sure," the blond noncommittally retorted, flipping through pages in their ledger. Of course, Malfoy was right, and the healer was able to Occlude so readily and take control of a situation pretty quickly. If I knew he wouldn't say no, the Director of Aurors mutely started, I'd offer him a position in the Corp. Harry stopped his thought to glance over to the stairwell as his wife and best friend descended the last few steps and came into view.
"Godric, we've two of the world's most gorgeous women on our arms tonight, Malfoy," Harry chuckled, meeting his wife and pecking her cheek, he'd better not smear her lipstick or she'd be rather cross with him. Ginny grinned widely and straightened his burgundy tie.
"You know, Harry Potter," came out rather pragmatically as her pretty manicured nails idly primped the collar of the black jacket he was wearing, "you say some of the most obvious things sometimes."
"Do I now?" Ginny, a fox who was so very sure of herself, as she should be. There would have been no other woman in the world who could have stolen his eye, and he was sure his mother would have absolutely loved her. Who couldn't?
"He really does, doesn't he, Red?" Draco's lips pulled to the side in an arrogant smile at the Auror, crossing the room to assist his Dea in adjusting her golden mask. Greys trailed over her body, admiring the way the deep red wine fabric of the bodice hugged her curves. His head tilted in thought. "I could have sworn there was a lot more tulle when we were in Paris."
"Really?" Hermione faintly questioned as she looked down at the skirting of her ball gown. The wizard secured her mask with a quick Haerescus. The gold went perfectly with her dress, the intricate ranunculus design on the right side and the tiny Malogranatum gems under the left eye tied the whole look together. "Hm, perhaps they just fluffed it out more. How's that?"
"Still perfect, sweetheart," Draco lowly assured her before lowering his voice even more and asking, "are there any burlap shoots in the near future?"
"Oh, my," Hermione chortled, stopping the wide grin trying to claim her face, despite how knackered she felt. The silver tongue this devilish wizard had. She abruptly cleared her throat, thoughts wandering to other risqué subjects. "You're awful, Draco.'
"Aren't I, though?" The witch stopped herself from biting her red painted lips, she loved when he smiled so freely. The blond hid his handsome face behind a charcoal black mask, his jawline and lips couldn't be hidden of course, that'd be a crime. It reminded Hermione of an antelope almost, except it looked undead with the tiniest hint of green and orange leaves. The dark druid like mask suited him quite well.
"Are you two quite finished dallying?" Ginny raised a copper brow, holding onto Harry's arm lazily with her other hand sassily resting on her waist. "We do have somewhere to be. Unless the two of you would rather go upsta—."
"Don't temp them, Gin," her husband snorted, escorting her towards the front door before Apparating, the two already stole away at random times to share private moments.
Emerald eyes skimmed the area, his hand gripping the wand that slipped down his sleeve. A crack disturbed the silence of the eerily silent courtyard the four of them now stood in, echoing lowly as if it were a low moan. They should be the last to arrive, and their location wasn't provided to anyone. The gala invitation itself had a portkey that did not activate until the moment of. When the party goer picked their item up, it ported them to a new area. It's seemed convoluted, but it was all part of the plan to keep his best friend from unknown forces.
"Perda was right, this is absolutely breathtaking!" A sense of awe hung in the air around them as Hermione squeaked out. Draco sighed after observing the scenery that he'd already seen before; pride and satisfaction were little feathers delicately floating within his chest. He had to agree, the sight they jumped in front of, was pure craftsmanship. His mother was a true master of her field.
"Narcissa really outdid herself," Ginny swooned, allowing Harry to lead her to the entrance of a manor charmed to look exactly like a gothic cathedral. Heels clacked down a cobblestoned path. This is what Hermione loved about their world. It could be simply magical, and the wonder of it so healing. Hazels giddily followed different shades of grey stones; a thin, translucent glow of gold outlined the cobblestones, ushering them towards a set of huge burnt cedar and iron doors.
"Good evening, Mrs. Granger-Weasley," a guard on the left greeted her with a small nod. Hermione inclined her head, he looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place his face. The two men opened the door for them, allowing Hermione to enter first. The witch stood tall, took a deep breath and continued on, leaving behind the wisps of fog blanketing the fields of ranunculus that surrounded the pathway they had just left. If it was possible, the interior was even more stunning.
Hermione allowed herself to be escorted to the main hall, eyeing the decor while she moved, letting the beauty steal her nerves away for a moment. They travelled down a tall, dark themed corridor lined with distressed golden pillars. With each passing column, the sound of a cello softly played, getting gradually louder. The ambiance was dramatic, it had flair, and such a sophistication, the brunette found herself rather envious of the creativity Narcissa had in just her pinky nail. This is ridiculous, it's marvelous, Hermione thought to herself with delight, and she did this—for me.
"Announcing, Madam Minister Potential Hermione Granger-Weasley," was bellowed just as she and Draco stepped into an archway. The witch suddenly felt the urge to turn away, all at once the idle chatter ceased and heads and eyes snapping to them as she stood atop a black and golden marbled staircase. A large hand gently rested on her forearm. Right, she could do this, it wasn't as if she didn't go to such events before. Just the witch was never the guest of honor, that's all. There was a low rumble next to her, and so she chanced a peek at the wizard beside her.
"It's no wonder they're all awestruck, Dea," Drace sighed at the minx, just barely shaking his head. The witch looked at him, a slight glimpse of confusion on her features. He had been carefully guiding her down the slick steps as she had somewhat paused at the top.
"Hermione!" An airy melody danced around her, making her eyes skip to the left of her—well, whatever he was, they'd never really talked about it, and she didn't want to assume. The brunette beamed, reaching out and hugging Luna Lovegood. It had been years since she'd seen the Ravenclaw last. The yellowed haired witch was just as pretty as she remembered, and just as lovely in her deep blue feathery mermaid dress.
"Luna! You look gorgeous," Hermione complimented before she turned to the young lady standing next to her friend. "Hello, dear, my name is Hermione."
"Oh, I'm very aware of who you are, Mrs. Granger-Weasley," was bubbled out with an excited nod, peachy blonde waves rippling with her head. Hermione feared the young witch would fly off somewhere. "My name is Perda Longbottom, and I have been following your work quite actively. I would very much like to pick your brain about your policies, Ma'am. Oh, but before that, who are you wearing tonight?
"The way you appeared and the tulle on your dress began to wisp about as if it were floating underwater, there wasn't an eye not on you," Perda gushed just as she was summoning her pen and pad. "This look—it's haunting, surreal even. My readers are going to be Stupefied when they hear about this...this Persephone! Yes, that's perfect!"
"Oh, Perda, from Witch Weekly, of course. It's a pleasure to meet you. Gods, please, it's not that fantastic, really, but Ginny Weasley would have the information on my attire. I would love the opportunity for an interview, owl my office when you are ready," Hermione kindly agreed before bidding goodbye to the energetic journalist and her lovely Alumna friend. Draco began the tedious trek around the hall with his witch, guiding her to greet different attendees, quite a few wishing to schedule appointments with her.
His stormy greys constantly scanned the room, periodically observing above them. The ceiling was an enormous height, black towering pillars holding the material up. The blond discreetly leaned near his date, slash client. He paused, the hint of honey and chamomile had him longing to wrap her in his arms as they sat on his sailboat, watching the children play on the bow. Being near her was a comfort he never wished to go without ever again.
"Have you glanced upward, Madam Minister?" He lowly inquired of her as she sipped her champagne. Topaz and green flecks rose, lids slightly closing as her lips pulled into a relieved smile. It was such a simple feeling, just pure content. Draco glanced back up at the enchanted ceiling, a brilliant array of stars and misty clouds floated above them. He imagined it reminded the bookworm of Hogwarts.
"Thank you, Draco," Hermione cast him a small smile before they moved onto the next person. But, Merlin, the witch couldn't wait to get her hands on a limoncello, though. They had gotten one in the form of a frozen treat over the summer when they had visited Blaise Zabini and his wife, Daphne, Scorpius' auntie and uncle—Draco's brother and sister-in-law. They had gone to Paris a couple weeks ago for her attire, meeting the eldest Greengrass daughter at her boutique, also getting one of the citrusy drinks for the brunette witch. "Draco, when you see waitstaff with something sweet, I need something."
"Of course, Dea." The wizard idly glanced at his watch, curious of the time. They had eaten a small meal so that she didn't go all evening without eating, but since she had been feeling so run down. Of course, there are little favors that the guests can politely pick at, but there weren't full entrees. It was Samhain, after all, and there were several happenings on such a night. Draco waved his hand, summoning a small plate of favors and holding it up, playing the part of her personal server. "Feeling peckish, Madam Minister?"
"Why, yes, I am. Thank you, sir," the witch nearly cheered, picking out what looked like a small stuffed cherry and slipping it passed her teeth. The witch couldn't enjoy the sweet morsel gushing with its natural juices and a delightful champagne ganache filling, for just as Hermione began to chew, Oliver Blake was on his way towards her. The proud traditionalist simply sidestepped someone who had gotten in his way and continued on. The brunette slowly spun, making it seem as if she were admiring the hall. Of all the times.
"Mrs. Granger-Weasley, it is good to see you this evening," Blake's low baritone crept around her, making it hard for her to swallow the tiny bit of food trying to go down her throat. She quickly took a sip before spinning around, feeling Draco's hand on her upper back, being sure she didn't go twirling much too far.
"Mr. Blake, I hope you are enjoying yourself," Hermione returned his greeting, being polite despite feeling uneasy. The way he talked was...icky, as Rosie would say. The tall, lean man held his arm out politely with his other behind his back, just slightly bowing his head; the traditional way of asking someone for a dance at a masquerade ball. The witch's red lips pulled into a short smile, taking an even breath. When it came down to it, Hermione wished Draco had won their match, however, she still lifted her hand to graciously accept his invitation.
"It has been an interesting evening," violet eyes lethargically roamed over her before he blinked, his orbs back on her in that split second, "to say the least. I must say, I never thought mu-ggleborns could clean up so nicely. The dress almost suits you."
"Mhm, thank you, Mr. Blake," the witch let slip a prissy chuckle, "there is much you do not know about Muggleborns. There are plenty materials to learn."
"Don't be daft," the man darkly chuckled, easily manipulating her into a twirl, his hand landing back on her ribcage, "sweet, little chicklet. We both know this whole thing is a farce. They're going to put you in office as a fine figurehead. How else will they mold things how they wish? Besides, I much prefer learning about Muggleborns my own way. I would not mind educating myself on at least one bird."
"Ladies, and gentlemen," despite the time being a tidbit too early, the Malfoy matriarch coolly called for the attention of her guests at the behest of her son, standing at the center of a stage. Narcissa patiently waited for at least when most heads were facing her to begin once more, "as hostess, I would like to introduce the founder and director of Aceso Medical, Draco Malfoy."
Hermione delicately slipped from Blake's hold and dipped into a slight curtsy, thanking him for the dance, and lovely chat. The witch swiftly glided between event goers, nodding in appreciation when one would step out of her way. She was thankful Narcissa chose then to begin speeches, sparing Hermione from having to endure any more time with that man. It felt like insects had been skittering and burrowing all over her. She took a calming breath, thinking of a few other conversations she had with people; it was more subtle jabs, lustful gawping, and scathing looks.
"Thank you, mother. We all know who I am, know my past, we're not here for me, though," the Malfoy scion nonchalantly opened, mutely casting a Sonorus, "tonight, we are gathered to hear how our society moves forward. I have done much traveling for my medical research, even to some of the most rural portions of the Earth. Yet, I don't think I've met anyone with as much determination to make our lives better than our witch of honor. Home at Aceso Medical, since I practically live there, it was a unanimous decision throughout our staffing to fully support future Madame Minister Hermione Granger-Weasley."
The witch smiled warmly, accepting the introduction and taking comfort in Draco's confidence in her. If only she could have half of the boldness he exuded. Hermione allowed him to offer his hand, guiding her onto the stage and letting her to her work. It's just like giving a seminar, the witch told herself. Hazels flitted over violet eyes and all at once, a certain doggedness smashed its way into her plan.
"You know, I had a speech all planned out," started out in a casual tone, her small hands waving to the sides from their position in front of her stomach, "highlights on policies I have dedicated myself to, those I plan to pass once I am in office, and anyone is more than welcome to meet and discuss any of this personally. However, a few conversations tonight have brought to light how very disappointed in our community I am. I am a muggle-born, and I am here to stay. I'm not going anywhere. Unless you are someone who shares similar blood to me, since that is very apparently still such an issue, you will never understand what it is like to live as a muggle, and I do hope that never comes to pass for anyone here."
Draco's greys stopped wandering, darting back to the witch on stage. His head tilted curiously, wondering just what his handful of a Mistress had planned. There had been a surge of tenacity before she started speaking. He never expected for her to deviate from her speech. The witch had stayed up late most nights, building the layout of it for weeks, curious, Dea.
"A year ago, I was hospitalized and nearly lost the ability to use my wand hand—fear not, I am better than ever." Hermione lowly held her hands out to stop any murmurs, "thankfully, I was treated with the best method there is in the world, frontierism," she gestured towards the healer wearing a black suit and green tie, he was standing off to the side, silently observing her. "Draco Malfoy realized there were still maladies in which," her hand lazily made a circular motion in front of her self, "we had no control over, despite us being such superior beings. Do you know where he found the skill set and knowledge to repair brain hemorrhaging? To prevent paralysis in our hands?
"If you haven't guessed already, muggles. We are not all powerful, despite what some of you may think. We do not own the world; we live in it. If both of our kinds were not supposed to be here, together, one or the other would not exist." Draco reveled in the way her voice gradually came out stronger with every word, although her heart quivered with sadness. "I don't know about anyone else, but I certainly have had enough hatred and violence in my life to last three lifetimes.
"It is time to move on from our old ways of thinking, of existing, and push forward to a new era. Our communities have no room for segregation. What one does not have, the other has to offer. I'd like those ready for the challenges of building a new world to join me when I am Madame Minister, because I'm not stopping until I am. This muck vein bird will not rise as a Phoenix," Hermione's eyes zipped back to Blake, gasps hissing in several directions, a swell of fire flaring through her. The witch stood tall, looking down at a wizard who held nothing but fear in his life, and continued, "I have already risen, and my flames burn bright as hell."
Mia Dea, Draco wasn't able to keep the charged current from speeding its way up his spinal cord. The bold declaration had the blond stretching his neck out, preventing the shiver that was fully prepared to make him visibly shake. It would be entirely unprofessional of him to let his emotions get the best of him like this. He took a deep subtle breath; the event wasn't over yet. There would be more than enough time to be swayed by this captivating goddess after the gala, Persephone, hm? We should have definitely gone with a halo crown.
The hall was layered by a wave of silence as Hermione accepted Draco's hand, and it seemed no one knew what to do for a moment, until someone began clapping within the crowd, causing the cliché of more joining them. She glanced over the audience and noticed Audry Niuss sporting a large grin and loudly applauding. The future Minister huffed out a laughed and sent her a modest smile with a nod. Hermione felt her hand being tenderly squeezed, earning her attention. Her blond wizard had a rather proud smile, which made her feel she must have done something right.
Hermione cheerily hummed HIM as she lazily lounged in the sun with her spoon popped into her mouth, spinning so that the groove followed her tongue as it came out cleanly. Ah, limoncello was just so refreshing, especially as a frozen dessert. Her hazels drifted from one person to the other, and she nearly laughed aloud for no reason at all. It was especially a delightful treat when those you care for shared it with you, while on a boat. And everyone is being good, she sighed contently, watching the children leaning over the side to point out fish, prepared to Immobulus one of them should they fall.
"I've got my eye on them, Dea," came her darling acolyte's charming voice, "sit back and relax. Visit with Lovegood, sorry, Scamander."
The golden-haired witch had just climbed onto the larger than—actually it was apparently quite necessary. Quite a few people agreed to join them on their little trip, resulting to the Malfoy heir in buying a much bigger sailboat, a Malfoy trait that no one was going to be able to change; he bought things on a whim—should he feel like it. She had been shocked to see Draco instructing Harry and Ron one morning on the pier below his house. Hermione happily watched from the short cliffside that was charmed with a barrier, ever the worrier, that man. An idea popped into her curly head, and she summoned her charmed camera, zooming in and catching snarky scowls and haughty snickers while the three men tied different knots; it wasn't perfect, but she thought that was good enough.
"Good morning, Hermione!" Luna was practically waltzing over to her with a pleasant smile, plopping down next to her. Her bright ocean blue eyes were magnified and framed by teal glasses with paw prints on them. The brunette grinned, they were very Luna.
"Hello, Luna, how have you been?" She questioned as her hand went to a charmed cooler and pulling a frozen drink out for the newest addition to the party. "It's been years since I've seen you."
"Yes, I've been travelling the world these last few years," she paused to pull a large photo album from a small bag similar to Hermione's.
"Awe! You still have the bag I made you? What pins do you have on it now?" Hermione accepted the bag from her while she opened her album to show moments of her journeys. "Oh, Tahiti? Japan, Transkei—wow, witch, you've been everywhere. Did I hear Draco call you Scamander? As in Newt Scamander?"
"Oh, yes, Rolf should be here in a while with Lorcan and Lysander," came back a sweet twinkle, her hand stopping and taking a bite of the slush in her glass. Luna took in the sight around her and smiled simply. "It seems you all are doing splendidly, Hermione. I had heard about you and Ronald from Ginny, and I'm so very glad all your auras still shine so brightly, a couple brighter than others. I'm also happy that you let Draco nudge his way into your life, he deserves a lot."
"That's right," Hermione chuckled, "he said you two had gotten close over the years. Thank you for being your kind self and accepting him, Luna. Especially, since it took me some time."
"I just knew you would come around in your own time," the yellow witch relayed, obviously having divined it from whichever method she used. The two women sat chatting for a few minutes before Anita and Ginny joined them. Hermione decided to pretend she didn't hear the jeering some of their men were participating in. They were still very ridiculous, but she wouldn't have it as it was before. Now, it felt like they could grow closer, if given the room to do it organically.
"No fucking way," Draco laughed out, his words coming as more of booming notes passing a wide grin. The blond wizard let the rope he was holding drop to the deck before dashing and catapulting himself over starboard and lightly jogging his way up the pier where a few men and a woman stood. Hermione glanced back to the other women, eyes wide and mouth gaping, they all shrugged. Whoever it was, Draco caught one of them in a huge bear hug. "You wankers, you could have called to let me know!"
"That would have defeated the purpose of surprising you—duh," Alec scoffed at the blond who'd came barreling towards them. The tanned man grinned as their wizard brother finished hugging and greeting them and nodded back up the driftwood stairs heading up the hillside.
"You weren't upstairs, so figured you were down here. You never change, man," Benji shook his head and followed Draco towards his large sailboat. "Trust your rich ass to have the top of the line."
"Yeah, yeah," the blond man waved his hand at him as he climbed up on the deck, followed by the other three. Draco gestured towards the sitting are where all the women were gathered. "Sadie, I'll introduce you to my witch."
"Yeah! I'm excited to meet her, Drac," a tanned brunette beamed, latching onto his side. "When you told me you were starting to date and seeing someone again, I was so relieved. Does Scorpie like her?"
"Can't get enough of her," he assured and nodded. "Dea, I want you to meet a few people. This is Sadie—Benji's wife, and these boobs are Benj, Alec, and Danny. My mates from the Colonies. You lot this amazing being is Hermione."
"Uh-he meant to say, 'brothers," Danny corrected him before taking Hermione into a hug, casting a simple carefree smile. "You'll have to forgive him, he's one of the most scatterbrained people I know."
"Draco?" Hermione's brows peaked before pointing to her blond wizard. "You're talking about this Draco? Scatterbrained?"
"See, thank you, sweetheart," was welcomed in a smug tone. Of course, she would agree with him, his Dea knew him better than anyone, aside from his mother, obviously. A nod met him with curls pinned and bouncing atop her head.
"I know exactly what you mean," she finally agreed, a cheek raising as her lips pulled to the side. Blond brows furled as he looked down to her. The vixen just loved to taunt him, go against him just to see his reactions. Draco suddenly snorted, stopping his lips from widening. He'd just imagined a kitten the same colour of her hair. That's exactly what she reminds me of, a kitten testing her limits and swatting at you when you least expect it.
"Oi! Don't give him a big head," he tried saying coherently between chuckles. The man was shaking his head before kissing hers and waving the guys to follow his, laughing retreating form. "Great, now I'm not going to be able to get that out of my head."
Draco couldn't recall a time in his life where everything felt right, not just a few things, but everything. He had his son and Rosie and Hugo, who were literally the most adorable kids to exist. Hermione made everything better. She had such an inviting aura, which Sadie was talking to her about. The witch's intelligence could barely be matched, along with her acceptance.
The wizard wondered how it was that every man wasn't throwing themselves at her feet. Draco idly listened as Benji explained his tour in Europe. He would be there for the next five months, in which Draco informed them they were more than welcome to stay at the house. They were prepping the boat to finally set sail as everyone, and a few others, were all aboard.
Hermione absorbed all that Sadie had been talking about in the Colonies. It turned out that she was a witch. She and Benji started dating years ago after meeting at a Navajo journey feast. The Native American witch explained it as if it were a coming-of-age ceremony for children with magical properties in their tribes. Benji's little sister, Echo had awakened the same year Sadie's niece had.
Luna also visited the Americas quite often, as the family she married into lived there in New York. The three talked about the policies Hermione was working on, pondering how to add a few elements the United States was evidently working on. Perhaps, when she was in office, she'd reach out to their President and Congress. After some time, Hermione was beginning to prep the food below deck, however she had to have Ginny take over. The wave the boat was moving wasn't quite setting right with her stomach.
"Well, Hermione's has changed," Luna was saying when she sat back on the lounger from before.
"My what has changed, Lu-lu?" Hermione questioned with a tilt of her head.
"Your aura," the Ravenclaw Alumna stated as simply as could be. "We were discussing if someone's aura could deviate from their true colour. I believe auras are like canvases."
"And mine has?" Curiosity tumbled out in a "hmmm."
"Oh, yes, and it's lovely," Luna nodded gently, "the last I seen you, you had a rose gold base with scarlet streaks, I'm assuming those were Ron's. Then silver flecks lightly sparkled within it. Those were Draco's. Now, there are silver streaks, splotches of dark green and pretty swirls of light blushes of rose, blue, and amethyst. Draco's is nearly identical to yours. His base is silver, while his streak is rose gold."
"So, what are the other colours?" Hermione asked, very confused by them. Weren't the extra colours normally your children? The brunette held her hand up, ready to keep track of the list she was about to call off. "Rosie is obviously the rose colour, Hu is the blue—right? What is the green? Scorp?"
"Don't forget the amethyst," Luna cheerily said with a pretty absent smile. Hermione's brows knitted together as her head shook. Draco's head snapped to the women, stopping himself mid-sentence before summoning a pair of gloves.
"But between the two of us, we onl—," the witch gasped, mouth agape and hazels wide. She wasn't sure when he'd gotten there, but Draco was suddenly crouched in front of her, looking up at her calmly. What did have an extra colour mean? The witch watched as her beau's hands were reaching forward and landing on her stomach, Hermione blinked a few times. She didn't quite understand what was going for a split second before her eyes widened farther and she was forcing in a slow breath as gooseflesh prickled across her skin
"Mia Dea," Draco breathed out a soft prayer, not able to bring more air into his lungs. The wizard sat crouched staring at her abdomen, ears ringing as a dull and distant thumping vibrated around them. He cleared his throat, trying to stop it from restricting, but it was nearly impossible. Draco blinked, feeling a moist prickling in the corner of his eye. "Tell me this is happening."
"I-I guess, I'm-pregnant," the witch huffed out, stopping a laugh. They had literally been together once. Was this happening? She didn't want another kid. Her hazels sought out stormy greys and she couldn't stop the choking cough followed by tear.
The handsome man in front of her was elated, you could see it all over his face. Hermione had never seen him look happier. The witch took a moment to let herself feel her emotions, as he would, and found that she didn't care about her 'no more children' plans. Hermione was bubbling with joy and could barely contain the fact. Her arms flew around the wizard about in tears and squeezed him to her. She was going to have Draco Malfoy's second child.
Later that night, after many congratulations of whoops, hollers, hugs, and celebrating, the little witch laying back against Draco's chest stretched out on the lounger they were on and drooped into a state of pure bliss. The sun had gone behind the horizon, the blanket of stars shimmering brightly over the silent waters. The wizard kissed the top of wild nutmeg ringlets, his hand absently playing with the baby fine hair of his son. He and little Rosie were curled up next to them, leaning against one another as they snoozed. Anita was across from them holding Hugo against her chest, she was listening to Weasley and Potter talk about equipment for a team they messed around on.
"Are you doing okay, sweetheart?" The blond lowered his voice to a hush when he felt his chest tighten. There was nod, with no sound coming from her. His fingers brushed her spirals from her ear so she could better hear him. "Is something the matter?"
"No—no, n-no-thing is-s wro-ng," came back to him in between light jolts of hiccups and sniffles. The wizard's concerned features softened, melting as he realized his chest wasn't falling, nor squeezing at all, but expanding, becoming so full of joy and warmth. He folded her in an arm securely while the other's hand rested on her stomach, tenderly kissing the side of her head a few times. Hermione softly spoke, composing herself as much as she could before, "I'm just...happy, Draco."
"That is all I have ever wanted Dea," he leaned his forehead against the back of her head and sighed, almost as if he'd finally accomplished something in his life.
Author's Note:
Hello, to everyone still following my story!
I know, I have been away from my story for a very long time.
I just couldn't continue, no matter how hard I tried or what exercise I tried with my brain.
I have motivation for it again, finally!
I hope you enjoyed my surprise!
See you next chapter, lovelies!
~ Haarii