AN: Hello, fanfiction and Harry Potter fans. I do not own Harry Potter but feel free to enjoy this or hate it. If you enjoy it, please leave a lovely comment, if you hate it, then leave some constructive criticism, thanks!

Can You Take the Jump?

Chapter 76

TW: cutting and bleeding are mentioned. Reader discretion is advised.

There was a calmness about watching the rise and fall of his chest, like watching the tides on a beach shore; in and out, continuous and steady. She held his hand with her cold fingers, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. He was so much warmer than she was, even in this state.

"You'll come, right?" Severus asked through her enchanted coin. There was a small gathering amongst them and the Slytherins at Malfoy Manor for Avery. His parents had held a very quick and private funeral consisting of only immediate family and buried him hurriedly before fleeing the country, but Purebloods were notorious gossipers. Whispers that shouldn't be spoken about Avery were spreading like wildfire. Ironically, despite never getting bullied or ostracized by their fellow classmates like she had been, no one seemed to defend Avery either. The people who would be in attendance for this gathering were vultures, trying to get any new and hot gossip to contort and spread to others.

"Hermione?" Another message burned through her protean charmed coin. She could imagine Severus's expression mixed with both concern and annoyance.

"What do you think, my love?" she brushed Sirius's hair back and rested her hand on his handsome face. "Should I say fuck it and just go?"

She nestled herself into his side and let out a deep sigh. It had nearly been a full week since his unconsciousness. She was starting to get worried, but she didn't know the full extent of his injuries and she trusted Bones's medical expertise. The healer had promised her that he would wake up when he was all healed, so all she could do was wait and listen to his heartbeat. She fed him liquid food and poured nourishing potions into his mouth and she massaged his body to prevent atrophy.

Despite her concern, she was happy. Happy to be in his presence, happy to be near him and touch him, happy to see him safe. She had missed him far more than she knew. She doted on his sleeping figure, pampering him and talking to him as though he was awake. She talked about nearly everything, things she normally kept to herself. There were times when she wanted to talk about her real past, the one from Hermione Granger, her true identity, Harry, Ron, her children, and the future that will never come to pass. However, she heard somewhere that people in a coma could hear, so no matter how much the words bubbled at the base of her throat she swallowed it down. The idea that Sirius would wake up and remember everything she whispered into his ear made her terrified, but she had no idea how long she had to live. She could feel herself fading and there was an undeniable desire to have her old memories preserved; her brave and kind friends she'd never get to meet, her beautiful children, the love she shared with Ron, the hardships she had overcome, the success she achieved, and the extraordinary life she had led. Without her, those moments and those people would disappear into a timeline that would no longer exist.

It was such a… waste.

With one last longing look at his face, she stood up and walked to the dresser, reaching down to the bottom where she kept a collection of potions on hand. She pulled out an old favourite of hers and placed it in her pocket.

"I'll see you later, my love."

…

Severus paced anxiously, gripping a strand of hair in his hand.

"Is she here yet?" Regulus walked into the guest bedroom. He had chosen a random 3rd year from a lesser-known family to knock out for Hermione's secret identity using a half-dose of one of Hermione's sleeping potions. She was going to be out for a long time, maybe until the next morning.

"No. Where's Lucius?"

"Probably out there making sure the other Slytherins don't start smoking things on his expensive furniture," Regulus shook his head. "Seriously, who raised these people?"

"It's the first time in a week since Hermione's shone her face since Avery's death. We have to make sure that the people here don't speak of him badly otherwise we're going to have a situation we can't handle."

"Yeah, Lucius's wrath if anything precious breaks in this house is going to be difficult to deal with."

Severus was speechless, "No you daft idiot, I meant Hermione's going to kill our idiotic classmates if we aren't careful."

"Oh that," Regulus nodded. "Right. Yeah, that'd be bad."

He walked up to the younger Slytherin and sniffed him. "Are you…drunk?"

"…No?"

"Black, are you serious right now?"

"No, I'm Regulus."

Severus opened his mouth only to shut it again promptly. He knew Regulus was struggling with the loss of their friend. None of them realized the bond they had with Avery until he was gone. They were torn between their feelings of betrayal and their friendship.

None of them had gotten the closure they wanted. None of them had even been allowed to say goodbye.

"I don't mean to insert myself into your grieving process, but—"

"Grieving? Who's grieving?"

"…Okay then can you take your non-grieving self over there and drink a sobering potion?"

"Don't have any left," Regulus slumped into a chair. "Avery's been gone for weeks and now gone forever, Malfoy has a drinking problem, and Hermione's been busy."

Severus could feel a headache growing. "You can brew some, I know you know how."

Regulus grunted in a way that could only be interpreted as someone who couldn't be bothered.

"Okay, fine. I'll go ask the elves to brew some, can you at least wait here for Hermione and give her this hair strand?"

Regulus rolled his eyes but waved Severus over with an outstretched hand. He watched Severus's hunched shoulders which were mostly because of him. He was making everything unnecessarily more difficult for the older Slytherin, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Things felt hopeless and he wasn't the only one who felt like this. Lucius, whose wife has been missing for months now, did nothing but drink his life away. Severus was barely sleeping because he was worried about his unconscious friend and Hermione… well who the fuck knew what Hermione was doing lately.

Avery's death had resulted in the Aftermath, a massacre of the Death Eater's lower ranks. The soldiers hadn't just died, they had been pulverized by the sheer force of raw dark magic. Any witnesses to who caused the Aftermath had died, so the only thing the living could do was speculate and gossip about who had caused it. The most logical explanation was that it was Avery's last stance before his death, which stirred even further gossip about their dead friend. Was he the muggleborn-loving traitor or was he secretly a master of the Dark Arts?

The fireplace ignited in the guestroom to reveal Hermione in black clothing, looking not as nearly as terrible as she normally did.

"Regulus," her eyes widened by a fraction. She had been expecting Severus, the mom of their group. The one who was always busy running around to make sure everyone was doing alright. In Regulus's humble opinion, he was rather terrible at his job.

"Evans."

She studied him as she brushed off the invisible soot from her black attire.

"You're drunk."

"As one should be at a post-funeral wake," he defended his drunkenness. "At least one of us should be. Severus is too paranoid to get drunk. Lucius is an expensive alcoholic, so he won't be getting drunk on the cheap shit he's put out for everyone here. You don't drink. That just leaves me."

Hermione said nothing, but her soulless eyes stared at him with pity. To avoid her uncomfortable eyes, he redirected their conversation. "How's my brother? You're nursing him back to health still? You keep your hands to yourself and away from my unconscious brother's body."

Her lips didn't even twitch at his joke. Merlin, how did his fun-loving brother fall in love with a girl like this?

"Your brother is doing much better, but he's still not awake yet."

Regulus tried to stand up to give her the piece of hair that Severus had left with him, but he stumbled around, much more intoxicated than he thought. Perhaps that sobering potion wasn't such a bad idea. She placed a firm hand to stabilize him. Just a week ago, that hand had looked like a skeleton with skin, but it had filled out and plumped up to look like a skinny but living human hand.

"Sirius must really be doing better," he rationalized. There was no way Hermione would look healthier if Sirius was dying or dead.

"You thought I'd lie about something like that to you?"

"I know you're not above a lie to keep us in line."

He knew he sounded bitter as he placed the strand of hair into her hands. He knew he was being petty. If it hadn't been for her plans, Dumbledore would have never been there to attack the estate to allow him to escape with Avery's parents. If it wasn't for her plans, his brother would have died by his own hands, otherwise he would have died by Voldemort's. He wanted her to do this. He agreed with her plans. It wasn't that long ago when he criticized Hermione's twin sister for not saving everyone the way she wanted her to, so now he felt like a hypocrite for feeling that same level of resentment at Avery's death.

She studied the strand of hair before uncorking her potion and placing it in. She mixed it up and waited for the potion to react to the stranger's piece of DNA.

"You're right. I'm not above lying." She watched the potion change colour and consistency based on the little Slytherin's DNA. It was an odd shade of lavender, but the thick consistency of yogurt. It looked extremely unappetizing, but Hermione didn't seem very bothered as she shook all the contents of the bottle into her mouth.

"But I also hope you know that I'd only do it to keep you safe, and never just to keep you in line to follow my plans. You have a right to your thoughts and responsibilities for your actions. The plans I make try to save as many people as possible in the long run. If I had known Avery was going to die there that day, I would have marched into Lestrange Estate on my own to save him and Sirius without ever having to involve either of you."

Shame embedded in him deeply. If there was one thing about Hermione Evans it was that she was so impossibly good—not in a kind or gentle way, but morally.

She stood before him, a carbon copy of the insignificant young Slytherin. She pointed a wand to her clothes to charm it so that it fit her better.

"Can I see him?"

She shook her head, looking apologetic while doing so. "The place may be under Fidelius, but you're too close to Voldemort now and your Occlumency isn't perfect."

"But you're sure he's getting better?"

She nodded. "So, what's my name?"

"Florence Clearwater, you're a 3rd year. You have a brother who's already graduated, Barrett Clearwater, who was in Ravenclaw. Not much else to say."

"Why is she even here? I didn't think any kids from 5th year and under would even come."

"I confunded her. She's confusing her actual crush to someone else with Avery."

She blinked at the way he casually mentioned altering one's state of mind. Regulus almost believed she might chastise him, but she responded with something only Hermione Evans could.

"It's you she likes, isn't it?" She asked, solving the puzzle in an instant. There was amusement in her voice. "Well, your brother was also popular, so there's no reason you wouldn't be. You guys could honestly pass as twins sometimes, more than Lily and I."

"The girl is insufferable."

"It's just a little crush, Regulus. Haven't you had them before? Or is the handsome Regulus Black above such things?"

Regulus turned away from her to hide the blush forming on his cheeks when she called him handsome. He blamed the alcohol, warming him up more than necessary. Hermione wasn't the type to freely give out compliments, but the fact that it was tainted with the knowledge that she fucked his brother made the sweet compliment taste bitter.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Severus is getting me a Sober-Up Potion, and Lucius is playing host."

She nodded, as she fixed her hair and adjusted her newly fitted clothes once more, ever the perfectionist. Perhaps it was because he knew it was her, but the simple act of fixing her hair felt so quintessentially Hermione, that he wasn't sure that the Polyjuice could fool the others.

"Then you stay here, and I'll go to the hall and say hello to Lucius."

Hermione walked out, to the large sitting room where all the guests had gathered. There weren't large ornate decorations and no casket since Avery was already buried. Instead, the elves of Malfoy Manor had placed a large picture of him on an easel surrounded by candles for visitors to light. Hermione stepped up to the candles and ignited the wick with her wand.

"…Help." Avery's pitiful pleas rang in her heart, his innards spread all around him. There had been a large pool of blood surrounding him, covering him with a metallic scent that triggered Hermione's gag reflex even now. She hated the scent of blood, despised it.

I'm sorry were his last words. She had been so busy trying to save his life that she let him die filled with regret and shame.

The fire she lit fluttered from her breath. She didn't believe in a god nor did she follow a religion, so she simply stared at Avery's portrait illuminated by the candlelight. She didn't know when the portrait was taken, but he looked about the same age and in the background she could see something twinkling. Perhaps fairy lights? He looked warmly dressed as well. It must've been Slughorn's annual Christmas Slug Club party. He lifted his glass of mulled wine or eggnog or firewhiskey at the camera with a small smile. Despite his big talk to the other Slytherins about being the youngest student being invited to the Slug Club for his achievements rather than for family connections, Avery never enjoyed being at those functions.

Staring into Avery's familiar smiling eyes, Hermione was stricken with regrets and sorrow for his death. All that time they'd spent together, but never even admitted to being friends or caring for each other. She never told him she forgave him and now all she was left with was how deeply sorry and responsible she felt for his death. There were a million things Avery would never know and a million things she'd never get to tell him.

So how was it that the only thing Hermione could think to say was, "I hate this bloody picture."

"Clearwater?" Someone pushed her aside and lit the next candle next to her. "What's a 3rd year doing here?"

Josephine Zabini was dressed too glamorous for the wake of a classmate. Her lips were coloured in with a deep wine-red lipstick paired with dark smokey eyes. The whole attire seemed more appropriate for a crazy fun night out. Maybe for her, this was a crazy fun night out.

"Just… paying respects." Hermione made a show of quickly wiping a tear and sniffling softly while slightly turning away.

Zabini, a clever little fox when it came to high society and finding people's weaknesses, immediately noticed Hermione's subtle hints.

"Knew Avery well, did you?"

"No," she shook her head softly. "He tutored me in Potions. He was… knowledgeable."

The first word that had come to Hermione's mind was 'nice', but in Slytherin, that word was either used as a sarcastic comment to describe something that was inherently not nice or you were practically gushing about an individual.

"I see," Josephine nodded as though she understood, but then quickly rushed off to her group of friends to gossip. A crazy fun night indeed.

She walked down a more secluded corridor, avoiding as many eyes as possible before walking onto a small semi-circular balcony for some much-needed fresh air. Just being around these people for a few minutes was already making her chest tight.

A small glowing light glimmered in the distance, then another, and another, illuminating the renowned Malfoy gardens. She gasped. It felt like fireflies had decided to glow beautifully in that moment, just for her, but the sights did not match the lights. Many of the flowers were dead, despite the nice summer evening. No one had seen to take proper care of the gardens since Narcissa's disappearance.

"They are bred and created to read one's mind and illuminate the garden based on your thoughts."

Hermione jumped out of her skin, wand at the ready at her intruder's voice.

Lucius stood on a similar balcony just a few meters next to her, standing against the railing with an unlit cigar in his mouth.

"Merlin, Lucius," she lowered her wand and clutched her chest. He had been silent the entire time and with the wind blowing away from her, she hadn't been able to smell him either. "I-I mean, Mr. Malfoy," remembering that she wasn't in her original body.

"Come off it, I know it's you."

"How?"

He shrugged so she didn't push.

"You scared the daylights out of me, you could have made your presence known."

"I was here first."

Hermione opened her mouth but closed it at the apt response.

The tip of his wand grew white hot, burning the tobacco in his cigar. "Would you like some?" he offered, a response to her staring.

"I don't smoke."

"No, you wouldn't."

Before she could play dumb and ask what he meant, he inhaled once more, rolling the smoke in his mouth before blowing it out.

"You couldn't have used a better photo?"

"Hm?"

"Of Avery. You couldn't have chosen a better one?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"He looks uncomfortable. Stiff."

"It was the most recent one I could find where he was wearing decent clothes. And for his discomfort, that's his fault."

"How is it his fault?"

"We both know that he didn't belong in that club."

"Shh," she looked around at their empty surroundings with suspicion. She placed muffling charms and alerting spells around them to ensure no one could eavesdrop. "People could hear."

"So what? He's dead. You can come out and tell the truth, that you were the real genius all along and get the recognition you deserve."

"I don't want that."

"No, I didn't expect so. If you did, you wouldn't have made Avery the genius in the first place. What do you want?"

Hermione let out a sigh… "World peace?"

He snorted, smoke coming out from his nose in a very un-Malfoy manner. "What?" The judgemental tone in his voice was crystal clear and loud.

"Oh, hush."

"How very… Gryffindor of you."

"What do you mean?! World peace is an incredibly ambitious dream! The amount of resourcefulness, politics, and cunning it would take to achieve it is incalculable. I'd say it's the most Slytherin dream to ever exist. Even more than world domination."

He chuckled while shaking his head, suddenly feeling like a child being patronized by an adult for the first time in a long time.

"What do you want?" She asked him in return. He blinked as though he didn't understand the question, but when she didn't back down he turned to deep thought, struggling with the simple, yet complex question. It made her wonder if anyone had ever bothered to ask him that question in his life. People like him had things given to them, a life without want, thus a life without ever having a moment to even question if everything that was given were things he even wanted.

"You're chatty today." He deflected.

"Am I? Is it bothering you? Shall I go?"

"No." He quickly replied.

She bit her lip, contemplating leaving regardless.

"You said those things down there read my mind?" she pointed at the fireflies below them.

"More like they read basic emotions. They're too primitive to be able to achieve actual legilimency. They simply light up and move around based on your mood."

"A living mood light," She muttered to herself. "That's fantastic. Brilliant. You know, if you sold this you'd earn loads of money."

She turned to him only to see his deadpanned eyes. His expensive cigar hung from his mouth, the ash threatening to drop onto his tailored silk and velvet robes, his diamond goblin-made cufflinks shining in the evening light as they stood on their individual balconies in his mansion on acres and acres of land in England.

They both snorted with laughter at her ridiculous statement. It wasn't even that funny, but they couldn't seem to calm down, the fireflies below dancing around more rapidly than before.

"Gods, I needed that." She wiped an actual tear from her eye as a few straggling laughs escaped her mouth.

"I know you did, after what happened at the Lestrang—" he quickly stopped talking, but it was too late. Any trace of humour was wiped from Hermione's face at the sound of the estate.

"Yeah," she nodded soberingly.

"What… happened?"

The giggling laughing girl just moments before could have passed for the 13-year-old girl she polyjuiced herself into, but the haggard expression on her face could never pass for someone that young. Her eyes held her true self, coming through from behind her enchantment.

"I… don't know. I found him too late. He was just…" she waved her hands around, "with barely enough strength to call out for help. He—" she gulped loudly. "He apologized to me. Wasting his last breaths trying to get my attention and apologize. I didn't even notice when he… I just kept pouring potions into his body cavity until it was too late."

There was a shift in the air, even the dancing fireflies stopped and flickered out one by one.

"You snapped."

There was no need for a confirmation. It was a fact.

"I saw the Aftermath. It was—"

Grotesque? Inhuman? Abominable? Like a monster had come crashing down?

"—omnipotent. It was an unbelievable and unstoppable power. At least in that moment, you were a god."

Hermione shook her head. "Everyone has that level of magic within them."

"But not everyone can access it, not even throughout their entire lifetime. Some people get close. The great witches and wizards such as Morgana, the Founders, Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Grindelwald. The only one in history that has been able to access it all is Merlin."

"Are you hearing yourself? That's—" She stopped, her alarm spell ringing in her mind. She pressed her finger to her lip to shush him.

"Malfoy! There you are!" Amycus Carrow swung open the balcony door and stepped onto the platform. "I knew you snuck off somewhere. I see it's to smoke the good stuff without getting everyone's grimy fingers on the expensive ones! Unfortunately, I have to notify you that the stuff in the sitting room will be all gone by the end of the day as will most of your good firewhiskey. But you don't mind sharing with a friend, do you?"

Carrow took the cigar right out of Lucius's hand and puffed once glancing over at the empty balcony next to them.

"Were you talking to someone?"

…

Severus made painful small talk while glancing up from his glass every once in a while in search of a short girl with light brunette hair. His anxiety made him want to pace, seeing how he had her next dose of Polyjuice, and she was nowhere to be found.

He excused himself before giving Regulus wild eyes.

"Have you seen her?"

"No," he shook his head while munching on some of the food from the table in the back. He grimaced before placing it back. "What was Lucius thinking when he approved of this monstrosity he calls food? And this décor? The only thing good here is the bloody alcohol. Merlin, I know Cissa's been missing, but gods you'd think old money like him would have some half-decent taste. Then again, if she'd seen this she might just run off again."

Regulus's eyes flickered to the older Slytherin, watching the stress building on his shoulders.

"Relax Severus. She'll come find you when she needs it. She might even decide she doesn't even want it and go back to wherever the fuck she's been staying at recently."

"She wouldn't just leave."

"History states otherwise."

"She wouldn't. I told her that I needed to speak to her about Lily today. She's a lot of things, but she cares for her family."

"Regulus!" A loud voice interrupted their conversation.

"Josephine." Regulus acknowledged with a nod. "How goes the Hogwarts rumour mill?"

The girl gave a mocking gasp. "I hope you're not calling me a gossip, good sir!"

Severus watched the casual conversation from the sidelines, internally laughing at Regulus's failed attempts to include him. He didn't need to try so hard, Zabini had seen him talking to Regulus before her interruption, yet did not attempt to include him once or acknowledge his existence despite being in the same year and having classes together for 6 years. In her eyes, he was beneath her. He wasn't even worthy of being her friend or acquaintance.

"Hahahaha!" She laughed loudly at a joke that was barely a joke made by Regulus.

The boys shared a look.

"How about I grab you a drink?" Regulus excused himself, leaving Zabini and Severus alone. It was only when the younger Black was out of earshot that she finally turned to face him.

"Snape."

"Zabini."

"I'm shocked you'd show your face here, traitor."

"I'm shocked you even know who Avery is, bitch."

She gasped, but Severus left her there with her jaw hanging with disbelief.

"You—!"

A loud bang interrupted Zabini's loud screech. It stopped all chatter in the foyer. A woman wearing a thick and long cloak with a hood over her head stumbled in holding her stomach.

"Master Malfoy!" A small elf cried out from behind her. "Master Malfoy!"

Lucius appeared at the top of the stairs in a hurry. He took mere seconds to read the situation.

"Everyone out! Get out!" He shouted.

There were confused murmurs around them.

"The wake is over, now get out!"

It clicked. "Out out out out out!" Severus started pushing people out the door.

"He-Hey! Get your hands off me!" Zabini gasped at Severus's push. "What are you—what is going on?!"

Clap clap clap "Party's over, seems like my cousin is finally back from her vacation." Regulus smirked at the food table once more.

Everyone turned to the woman near the door, her rounded stomach finally coming into view.

"GET OUT!" She screamed as she clutched her stomach more.

Everyone scurried through the door, not needing to be told twice. Only three people stayed behind one in secret.

Lucius hurried to Narcissa's side, putting an arm around her waist.

"You-you sent a fucking elf for me?!"

"You're here." He stuttered with disbelief. "A-and you're still… you're still… pregnant. I'm going to be a father."

…

The Slytherins loitered around their usual meeting room, Malfoy's study.

"Do births normally take this long?" Regulus asked sighing with impatience.

Smack

"Ah!" He rubbed the back of his head where Hermione smacked him. "Oi!"

"You try pushing a human being out of a hole the size of a grape. Once you've accomplished that, and only then are you allowed to comment on how long this takes."

"Jeez, from the way you're talking, you'd think that you've done this shit before."

"…It's something all women can empathize with to some degree."

"But," Severus, who sat on a chair shaking his legs, "it is taking a while. It's been 5 hours. What if something's wrong?"

The boys turned their heads to Hermione with an expectant look.

"You guys do know I'm not a licensed Healer." But the looks on their faces didn't change.

"Fine," she sighed. Hermione opened the door, nearly hitting Lucius's pale face with the door.

"H-Help."

There was wind in her ears as she ran as fast as her legs could take her. There were footsteps following right behind her, but she couldn't be bothered by them.

"Hermione," Draco Malfoy was next to her, running by her side. "I don't have an older sibling…"

He looked back at his father running behind her.

"It's not meant to be…"

"Shut up." She shook her head, "No offense Draco, but your thoughts aren't valuable right now."

She ran towards the door where the screaming echoed through. Her chest squeezed uncomfortably with fear. Maternal mortality was not as common as it once was, but magical births tended to be unpredictable.

When she burst through the door, the elves were rushing around pacing in panic. If the elves were in a panic, this was not a good sign.

"Why haven't you called a healer yet?" Hermione asked over the screams.

"NO HEALER!" Narcissa screamed from the bed.

Lucius gave her a helpless look before rushing to his wife's bedside.

"Cissa, this isn't the time to be stubborn."

"Yes, mistress. Your blood pressure is getting too high and you refuse to take any potions to reduce it. This is getting dangerous." The elf by her bedside begged.

"No potions."

"No potions and no healer, but a difficult birth." Hermione quickly summarized.

"Who is she, get her out of here!"

"Enough," Hermione placed a deep calming spell on Narcissa. The calmness would help with the blood pressure but it wasn't a permanent solution. The spell itself wouldn't hold for long but it gave everyone a moment to breathe without someone screaming.

"Drug her," Hermione ordered.

"But—" the elves stuttered, even Lucius seemed reluctant.

"Now!" But when no one moved, she grabbed the vial of Blood Leveling potion off the counter herself and rushed over to the very pregnant woman. Just as she uncorked the vial, a large hand stopped her.

"It's not what she wants," Lucius growled.

"It's what she needs."

He seemed to struggle back and forth but shook his head fervently. "You will honour my wife's choice, or you will leave."

Hermione let out a laugh of frustration, of all the times to finally listen to his bloody wife. She looked at the hallucination who stood by Narcissa's head, reaching out to stroke her blond hair, only for his hand to fall through.

"Save them."

Not her. Not the baby. Them. Of course, Draco Malfoy would demand something impossible.

"We bleed her."

"What?"

"The blood-leveling potion has a very rare chance of affecting the baby, but I'm guessing that's why she doesn't want the potion, right? But high blood pressure is deadly for pregnant women, deadly. The only solution I can think of to naturally drop her blood pressure is by bleeding her, then pumping her full of blood replenishing potion after. But we don't know what's going to happen later either. You might have excess blood loss after the baby is out, at that point we might not have enough blood replenishing potion or the potion might not work fast enough."

"But that is…"

"Dangerous," Hermione nodded. "It's your choice, Narcissa."

They all turned to the women on the bed.

"Bleed me."

Hermione wanted her to reconsider, but there wasn't enough time. After a curt nod, there was a rush of movement, towels magically appeared at the bottom of the bed with the snap of the elves' magical fingers. Regulus ran off to get the Blood Replenishing potions from the storage, but for fear of not having enough, Severus went to the kitchens to brew some more.

Lucius crouched by Narcissa's bedside and held her hand as another contraction wreaked havoc on the young woman's body.

"Mrs. Malfoy. My name is Penelope Clearwater. If you don't mind I'm just going to take a look to see how far along we are, okay?"

"Who?"

Hermione looked right into her eyes, "Someone who's trying to save you and your baby. Do I have permission to have a look at how you're doing?"

Narcissa looked conflicted but nodded eventually. Hermione went to the foot of the bed and lifted the sheets to get a better look. She was barely 2cm dilated.

"Okay, Mrs. Malfoy, when you feel the next contraction, try not to push."

"Don't push?"

"Yes, you're not fully dilated and once we bleed you, pushing is only going to quicken the bleeding. We want to be able to control the bleeding as much as possible, so no matter how much you feel like pushing. Don't."

Narcissa gave Lucius an uncertain glance, but with a firm nod from him, she tentatively agreed.

"Ready?" Hermione pulled out her wand and cut deep into where Narcissa's pale skin was blue. Crimson liquid gushed from the wound, causing Hermione's gag reflex to get triggered.

"Wh—Are you okay?"

Hermione simply held up a hand at Lucius's question.

"How's the blood pressure?" Hermione asked. The elves who were monitoring Narcissa shook their heads. It wasn't enough.

With gritted teeth, Hermione repeated the process on the other arm. Blood soaked the white linen sheet of the bed, dripping out so fast that the cotton didn't have enough time to soak everything up, causing the excess to drip off the sides and onto the towels placed on the wooden floor.

Hermione watched the stats drop with the elves, wand at the ready to close up the wounds as fast as possible.

"Nghhh!" Narcissa grunted as another contraction rippled through her body.

"Don't push!"

"I'm… trying!"

"AHH!" Blood gushed from her wounds, dropping her blood pressure at an alarming rate.

"Stop pushing!" Hermione rushed to her wounds to close them before the stats dropped too much.

"It's below, it's below!" The elves told her.

The wounds were healing but repeatedly reopened as the fragile little veins tried to heal despite the body's stress and movement.

"Hold her still!"

"Miss it's dropping! It's still dropping!"

Shit, she was going to pass out at this point.

"Lucius! Repeat after me, Vulnera Sanentur."

The two of them pointed their wands and repeated the song-like incantation together over the wounds. Illuminated by golden light, slowly and surely the deep cuts healed.

"Regulus!" Hermione called out.

"On it!" He tilted the vial of blood-replenishing potion into his cousin's mouth.

For four hours they maintained the precarious balance of blood pressure by bleeding Narcissa and replenishing her with potions over and over again. By the end, the bed, the towels, the floor and all the people involved were drenched with Narcissa's blood.

"Uwah!" The first loud and healthy cry of a newborn Malfoy was heard throughout the Manor.

Hermione slumped to the floor, falling onto a towel soaked with blood. It uncomfortably seeped into her pants, but she was too tired to care as she wiped the sweat off her brow with a bloodied arm.

"It's a girl!"

…

Freshly washed, and looking like herself, Hermione walked to the fireplace to finally return to her little hut after an unexpectedly long day. Narcissa was getting some much-deserved sleep after a long delivery. She could hear Regulus talking with his portrait relatives about the first Malfoy girl being born in generations and Severus was probably still tinkering in the kitchens to ensure that the tired new family had enough potions in case of an emergency.

"Hermione!" Lucius rushed to her, baby still tucked safely in his arms. The sweet thing was tiny in her father's arms.

"Careful, you don't want to wake her." Hermione paused to smile at the little pink bundle. She made sure not to touch the baby, her old fears of tainting something so pure resurfacing at the embodiment of innocence.

"I don't how to… I can't begin to explain—How can…"

"No need. Just be a good father."

"How?"

The fear in his eyes was so familiar that it made her heart ache for him. There was also a time when she wished to face a dozen Death Eaters rather than face the weight and fear of raising a child. The unbelievable responsibility that weighed on your mind as you looked into those pure eyes.

"You'll know."

It was the only thing Hermione could say as a reply, but she believed it to be true. As terrible as Draco was in his youth, there was something he used to say that almost became his motto. My father will hear about this! A child with inattentive and bad parents wouldn't believe they would care enough to listen to their problems, let alone do something about them. A bad father wouldn't come to every Quidditch game, buy thoughtful gifts, or care about his grades. A bad father wouldn't have that look on his face during the final battle in Hogwarts, searching for his son in the rubble and the dead.

"Just… don't spoil them—her too much."

"Well, that'll be hard. Look at her. She's perfect."

Despite being only minutes old, Hermione could tell the little girl would be a looker. Her white-blond hair was wisps on her head, along with nearly invisible eyelashes of the same colour. Her nose was already tall and sharp for a baby with lips puckered out in a near-permanent pout. Lucius was certainly going to have his work cut out for him with this one.

"Have you guys decided on a name?"

"Alsephina Octavia Malfoy."

"You Purebloods and your pretentious names," Hermione laughed. "Wait, Alsephina? That's part of the Vela constellation. You're letting her use her family's traditions to name your daughter?"

Lucius nodded, "It's a first, but she's also the first Malfoy daughter in generations, so I thought why the hell not?"

Hermione watched as Lucius's eyes illuminated with unbridled joy at the sight of the little girl's yawn.

"Yeah, why the hell not?"

"Shh! No bad words in front of my daughter."

"You just—" Hermione raised her hands in defeat. "Goodnight, Lucius."

The older Slytherin looked at her with an expression she'd never received from him. It was soft and kind, but it wasn't uncomfortable in the way that Malfoy's glances often had a way of being in the past.

"Goodnight, my friend."

She left the cooing father and the newborn baby and walked across the now-empty foyer with a small smile at Avery's portrait.

"Did you hear?" She asked in a smiling whisper. "Lucius had a daughter."

The candles flickered.

She knew ghosts were real. She knew the afterlife was real. And most importantly, she knew that the ones who died never really left.

"Not that you ever needed to, but now your debt is paid in more than full. Thank you, Fredrick, for helping us bring her safe into this world."

All the candles went out, except for one, the one she had lit when she came here.

"Goodbye, dear friend."

…

The green fires of the floo disappeared and she stepped out of the fireplace with a sigh. She was tired, but the events of the day had made her far too wired to sleep. She flicked a galleon to the barkeep, a generous payment for a single-use floo, but it was really the silent-no-questions-asked interaction that she was paying for. The hut was far too small for an actual floo connection, so she would need to either apparate or walk for an hour through the deep forest to get back. She decided to walk and make use of her jittery nerves to harvest some herbs that were more potent when collected in the late evening. Perhaps she'll get lucky and find some succinum to add to a calming draught for the new parents who were probably filled with anxieties.

The forest was dark and the evening summer air was cool and thick. Hermione tried to cast her Undetectable Extension charm on her own pockets as her hands started getting full of various herbs and roots, but the spell wasn't connecting.

"You were struggling to patch up my mom after cutting her too. Is it your magic? Are you already faltering?"

Draco Malfoy's platinum blond hair glowed in the moonlight. It made him look like a fairy, one of those muggle fairies that appeared in Lord of the Rings. Ethereal and otherworldly.

"No, I'm not kicking the bucket quite yet. It's this wand. It's not very cooperative since the Aftermath."

He stared at his own wand, the wand Harry had wielded for a while during the 7th year. "Sometimes my wand does the same. One touch from Boy Wonder and it forgets its original owner. Tsk."

"Same, one crazy Dark Magic blow up, and now it's all like, 'You're not the same anymore.'"

Their conversation fizzled, but his presence remained like a wine stain on a white sofa.

"Do you think we made a mistake?" Hermione asked, confronting the reason he wasn't disappearing.

"Do you?"

"We might've just erased your chance of existence."

"My parents never tried for a second because having me was already a miracle. Mum went through a rather traumatic experience."

"You don't think tonight was traumatic enough?"

"Fuck." He muttered. "I wanted my mum to be happy, not for me to never exist. So what now, Granger? Do I cease to exist? I won't get to pop up as your hallucination anymore because I'm not part of the future?"

"No, you exist in my memories. It shouldn't hinder your ability to inconveniently pop up and demand difficult things."

"I think we just royally fucked up."

"Hmm."

So deep in thought she had stopped collecting herbs and had autopiloted herself back to the hut before she even realized. It was late when she arrived at the hut with a bundle of medicinal herbs cradled in her arms. The scent of herbs mingled with the damp mildewy air, the wet earthy aroma of the surrounding woods, and the lingering scent of potions when she entered through the door. As she shook off the cloak she borrowed from Malfoy, she noticed the sleeping form of Sirius Black missing from the bed.

With a small gasp, she dropped the herbs to free her hands, but before she could reach for her wand, there was a sudden rustle behind her that was quickly followed by the cold edge of a knife against her throat. She hissed as the sharp edge cut into the skin of her neck.

"Who are you," a rough voice asked, hoarse from unuse.

The tension in her body eased as a familiar scent came from the person behind. Their touch was not foreign, their warmth was enveloping. Her body knew who the attacker was before her mind could even catch up.

"You're awake," she let out a sigh of relief. "I was getting worried there." She whispered, a mix of surprise and concern in her voice. She could feel the tension radiating from him.

"Hello, Sirius."