All of Harry Potter and anything related to it are the sole property of J.K. Rowling.
(Each title is derived from a song that, I believe, complements the overall narrative, if not the individual chapter.)
Somewhere on the edge of London, July 1997
Hermione's Point of View
I had been home for a week, and I was miserable, but I refused to cry any more. In fact, my reservoir of tears felt quite dry, and I felt barely capable of much emotion at all. I had spent the week at home wandering from room to room and around the backyard while my parents packed the house and tried not to show how concerned they were for me. They had been so supportive and understanding since I got home, but I knew they were worried about my future and that of the baby.
The look on their faces when I arrived home with my huge stomach should have been comical, but of course I was too hollow to find amusement anywhere, even if I did understand their shock. I had barely shown when I left after the Easter holidays, and now I looked like I had swallowed a pumpkin whole. At times, I still found it hard to believe that there was a tiny human growing inside me… a part of him and me.
Today, they were both at the dental practice they had worked at for years. It was the last day the doors were to be open, and so reluctantly, they left me in the care of the House Elf that was still hanging around. I surmised he was going to stay until Aiden was born and assumed it was an order of Draco's. But I refused to think about that. They hadn't known what to make of the little Elf at first, but now they seemed to be coming around.
I was very restless again today, so I was wandering the house even as I ate a bowl of chocolate ice cream with cut-up pieces of strawberries. The day was hot, and I was walking around in a button-down shirt of my dad's. None of my old clothes fit me, and I had refused to buy any more when I wouldn't be pregnant much longer. I had leggings I could put on if I absolutely had to leave the house, but so far that hadn't been an issue, so I didn't see the point.
I walked into the sunroom, which was supposed to be a place of joy and relaxation, a cosy retreat where my family could curl up with a book and enjoy the warmth of the sun. The room had always been spacious and bright, with large windows on three sides that offered a panoramic view of the garden and pool. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow, and the furniture was comfortable and inviting. A wicker sofa with colourful cushions, a round wooden table with a vase of fresh flowers, a rocking chair with a knitted blanket, and a bookcase filled with my mum's favourite novels. There were also some potted plants and herbs that my dad had grown himself, adding a touch of greenery and fragrance to the room. I had always loved it in here before, but now it was just another place that was dissolving as it was packed away piece by piece, reminding me that this was just another thing I was losing.
As strange as it seemed, I had trouble even looking at my parents at times, knowing what I planned to do to them, even if I knew it was for their safety. Looking at them meant missing them already, and my heart just couldn't seem to handle the added pain of knowing I was also losing them. That soon I would have nothing left that was truly mine in this world, and it was all because of a stupid war. A war started by a selfish evil man who was afraid of death while being happy enough to inflict his own fear on countless others.
When there was a loud knock on the door, I stopped to listen, knowing Jomny wouldn't let me answer it, and was surprised when I heard heavy, uneven footfalls coming down from the front entrance and into the sunroom where I currently was. I turned just in time to see Alastor Moody come to a stop, looking at my belly with his one good eye and the magical one. He had his usual grim expression on his scarred face, so I didn't take it personally, and a long cloak that covered his prosthetic leg. He was holding his wand in his hand, ready for any trouble. Once again, I didn't take it personally. Moody believed in constant vigilance and had drilled it into all of us children and friends of Order members. Mine was in my wrist holster under the sleeve of my dad's shirt. I was pregnant, not stupid.
"Well, that answers that question," he said, then gave a grunt. "How are you, Granger?" he asked, moving forward again.
"Hot," I answered, because nothing but that seemed to matter. He grunted again.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the table.
"Not at all," I replied politely. He pulled out a chair, making it creak under his weight. He looked around the room, scanning for any signs of trouble or traps. He seemed satisfied with what he saw and leaned back on his chair, fixing his gaze on me. Manners getting the better of me, I went and sat down too, putting my bowl of ice cream on the table. "Can I offer you anything?" I asked.
"No need to be polite, girl," he said, and regarded me with curiosity. "Dumbledore left me some instructions. We had a strategy to get Potter out of his relatives' place a few days before he turns seventeen. Your name was one of the first on the list, but he scratched it off, and I didn't know why," he explained.
"Yes, I am quite useless at the moment," I said with a lot of self-pity, even as I rubbed my oversized belly. Moody ignored my remark.
"He never got around to picking someone else," he said, scowling as he pondered, his magical eye spinning wildly.
"Can I ask what the plan is?" I asked.
"We're going to use Polyjuice Potion to make some decoys look like Potter and fly off in different directions on brooms," he explained. I made a rude noise that had him looking at me with a sharp but curious glance. "What would you suggest?" he asked with a gruff tone.
"Well, since I am assuming Professor Snape knew of that plan, I definitely wouldn't do that," I said, feeling a spark of anger break through the nothing I had been honing, and then it was gone again. I sat and thought for a moment, poking at my ice cream with my spoon, and as usual, Draco entered my thoughts. I remembered his birthday, and all at once I knew what to do. I looked back up at Mr. Moody and said, "The vast majority of Death Eaters are pure bloods. Most of them have never even set foot into the Muggle world and so have no real understanding of how it works."
"Aye," Moody grunted with a keen glint in his eye.
"Harry should leave on his own. He can arrange for a taxicab to drive him to the bus station. I travelled by bus to Ottery St. Catchpole once, so I know they have a route that stops there and that Mr. Weasley is familiar with the local bus stop. I would have Mrs. Weasley walk into the village to collect him, however," I explained.
"Why Molly?" Moody asked.
"Mr. Weasley is too conspicuous at the Ministry, and I'm sure some of the Death Eaters are keeping an eye on him. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, hardly ever goes out, so they wouldn't have much chance to follow her or suspect anything, especially near her own home. She's not fond of the Muggle village, but she's been there a few times with Mr. Weasley and the children, so she knows her way around well enough to meet Harry. They can either walk back to the Burrow or Apparate once they're out of the village, whichever she prefers," I explained.
"That was clever, and I agree with you about Arthur, but I won't gamble with Potter's safety," he told me. I almost wanted to sigh, but that seemed to be an effort I couldn't be bothered to make. I felt drained already and was hoping he would leave me to my misery soon. Then I felt worse for my uncharitable and selfish thought.
"I am assuming that the reason the plan included so many people was to confuse Voldemort, who would be able to track Harry once he is outside of protective wards?"
"Very sharp, Granger," Moody said with a rare nod of approval. "Dumbledore figured that with so many of us, it would throw off the waiting Death Eaters."
"I suppose it would, but I believe there would be more of them than there would be of us… I mean you," I said, waving my hand to make my point.
"I wasn't sure about that either," Moody muttered with a scowl. "I even suggested Apparition, but as Dumbledore pointed out, Apparition can be traced in Surrey."
"How many people do you think would be sent to follow, though? Perhaps you could have all taken turns Apparating him. Passing him off to somebody else, somebody you trust, of course, and then you all Disapparate again at once, and while you go one way, they go another and repeat the process. Harry might feel quite unwell by the time he reaches the Burrow, but he would be alive, and hopefully everybody else would have lost any pursuers. I know for a fact that Voldemort can't get Harry past those wards," I explained. Moody smiled at me; a rare sight that made him look even more frightening.
"Perhaps you should look into working for the DMLE, lass. You have a sharp mind and a knack for strategy. I know you just came up with both those plans right now, and they are both decent plans. Maybe even better than the one we have now, seeing as, like you said, Snape will know the original. I also don't fully trust one or two people on Dumbledore's list, but I know he had reason for the number," Moody said.
"Can I ask who is on the list?" Intrigued despite my lack of mood. He eyed me for a moment and then pulled a list from his trousers pocket. I knew all these people except Mundungus Fletcher. "Who is this?" I asked, pointing to the name.
"Small time criminal, but Dumbledore had hopes of reforming the man. He always had the ability to see the good in people," Moody muttered, and then cleared his throat uncomfortably. I just stared at the page with Professor Dumbledore's handwriting on it for a minute.
"It was a lovely funeral, according to the Quibbler," I murmured. Moody gave another of his grunts of acknowledgement.
"I'd rather leave Mundungus out of any plan if I could," Moody grumbled, his voice low and raspy. "The man's a coward and a thief. I wouldn't put it past him to sell us out to the Death Eaters if he thought it would save his own skin."
"Hagrid would also be out. He can't Apparate," I replied.
"That would leave me with ten," he said, shaking his head. "I suppose I could lose a few this way. Cut it down to seven."
"What about asking Professor McGonagall first? I can see why she wasn't included in Professor Dumbledore's original plan, but I am sure she would help Harry if she could," I said, trying not to feel bitterness at how she had treated me these last few months.
"I could do that," he said with a slight nod.
"Eleven is a stabilising number, so it should help Harry overcome the potential harshness of so much travel in such a short time if you chose to go with Apparition instead of the brooms," I mused, and Moody chuckled.
"I always heard you were quite the student. Lupin and Dumbledore both raved about you," he told me. I gave a small smile, but the praise barely registered. "I take it, not many people know about this?" He asked, gesturing to my belly.
"Nobody knows," I replied. He looked off into the distance but didn't reply to that.
"I should get going, Granger. I'll give some thought to your plan. With some logistics, I think it could work," he told me.
"I think I'll write to Harry. Hedwig can be very protective of him. If possible, I'll ask Jomny to go fetch her," I said. 'I will also be sure to tell Harry everything discussed here. He hates being excluded from the decisions that affect him', I thought to myself.
"Interesting to see a House Elf in a Muggle home," Moody commented. I just nodded at that. "I'll see you around, Granger. Good luck with everything," he said, getting ready to leave.
I nodded and said, "See you."
He nodded and said, "Remember, Granger. Constant vigilance!" Then he Disapparated and was gone.
A few days later I was sitting at my desk, studying my notebook of spells again. I had already catalogued all the potions I had and found a purple beaded bag with a long strap of my mum's. I thought it would be easier to carry than my satchel, and added an extension charm to it.
Out of nowhere, a wave of nausea washed over me, and I placed my notebook down carefully as I wondered if I was going to be sick. Then I knew I was, and I rushed out of my bedroom and into the bathroom, only just making it to the toilet before everything I had eaten that day came back up.
"My Lady, are you unwell?" Jomny asked, popping into the room.
"You don't think there was anything wrong with the food, do you?" I asked him. He hadn't liked the look of the takeaway my parents had bought for dinner, but with the day they had neither felt like cooking, and they didn't feel comfortable having Jomny do it.
"Jomny doesn't think anyone else is sick," he told me.
"Hermione?" My mum called and then came into the bathroom. "What's happened?" she asked with worry.
"I don't think dinner agreed with me," I told her, and then a wave of lethargy crashed over me, and I thought I might fall asleep right there on the toilet bowl. "What time is it?" I asked miserably and flushed the toilet. Jomny floated a glass of water from the sink over to me, and I rinsed my mouth with it.
My mum looked at her watch and said, "Quarter past seven."
"Too early for bed, then?" I muttered, suddenly really tired.
"This is more than dinner," she said, noticing my sweaty face and lethargy, and came over, putting her hand on my forehead. "You don't have a fever, do you?"
"Just tired," I said, and sleep was really trying to drag me down now.
"How about a quick bath? Then you can have an early night," she suggested, smiling gently at me.
"Maybe," I said, really not feeling up to it, and my eyes were already trying to close.
"Daniel," I heard her call out with panic, even as I slumped over even more. Then felt my body being lifted into the air on invisible arms.
"Jomny will see her to bed, ma'am," the House Elf said. I was vaguely aware of my dad's arrival, and then my mum was speaking, but I was asleep before we reached the door to my room.
Hours later, I lay dozing. I had been having a restless sleep because my back was bothering me. It felt like a dull ache that spread across my lower spine, making me toss and turn. The pain was making me weepy, which made me angry, which, of course, also made me want to cry.
"My Lady?" Jomny asked quietly from the darkened room. I felt him climb up on the bed behind me. "Can Jomny be of assistance?"
"No," I said, and I hated the strain in my voice, and tears started to leak from my eyes without my permission. "I miss him," I allowed myself to whisper.
"Jomny misses him too," he said just as softly, sounding just as broken. "But Jomny would stay with you, My Lady, if you would allow it?"
It took me a moment to understand, and then I felt even worse: "I can't take you with me, Jomny. I don't even know if I will remember you," I replied, knowing he would understand.
"Jomny knows, My Lady," he replied sadly. "But Jomny would stay if you asked him to, still."
"I'm sorry," I cried.
"Life is often not fair," he agreed.
"Where will you go? Will you return…?" I couldn't complete the question.
"Jomny is a free Elf now. Jomny believes he will be welcomed at Hogwarts, however," he said. I turned my head and cried into my pillow until I fell asleep again. Jomny stayed by my side the entire time.
By six, I was awake again and not happy to be so. After the usual morning toilet ritual, I got dressed—just a shirt of my dad's and clean underwear. Everything else was becoming too uncomfortable if I was just staying in the house, and a bra was a torture device that I was sure should be burned, so I didn't bother with that either. I barely bothered with my hair—just a quick brush that barely managed to get the tangles out.
I was restless, which was annoying. I wandered the house wondering what I could do, but nothing seemed to be right. I stopped outside one of the spare bedrooms at one stage, almost tempted to go in and see the baby things my mum had gone out and bought the day before, but I really wasn't interested in seeing the things that I would never be using.
Jomny reminded me he was going to pick up Hedwig later today and suggested breakfast a short time later, but my stomach was apparently still upset from the food the night before, and Aiden was kicking and squirming as if he agreed.
I decided to go up to my room and make sure all the clothes and other items I would need this coming year were in the purple bag. I also checked my closet and found a dress I thought should be fine for the upcoming wedding. I looked down at my belly and marvelled at the fact that apparently those potions in the pack of after-baby stuff were going to have me back in my old clothes in a matter of days.
I was looking around the room again, which I had allowed Jomny to mostly pack away for me, and spotted an old teddy of mine that had been sitting in the donate pile. Jomny had made sure all the toys were clean and repaired, but looking at the little brown stuffed bear now, I really wanted it. I felt a surge of nostalgia as I remembered how I used to cuddle with it every night and read it stories when I was barely old enough to read.
"Do you think my parents would allow him to keep such an old-looking teddy when they don't remember it?" I asked Jomny, who had been watching me but was otherwise staying out of my way.
"You could transfigure it to look new," he reminded me.
"Yes," I agreed, and then realised I didn't have my wand strapped to my wrist and felt annoyed at myself for my forgetfulness. I waddled over to the bed and pulled it from under my pillow. Jomny floated the teddy I had long ago named Fred over to me. I cast the spell to transfigure the old-looking but tidily repaired bear into something that looked as though it had just been bought. I hugged it to me for a moment as I considered that this may be the only piece of me Aiden ever has. My back decided to start bothering me again, and another wave of lethargy came over me. "I think I might rest for a while. Will you please put the teddy with all the other baby things?" I asked Jomny.
"Yes, My Lady," he agreed. He took it and popped away, but was back again even as I was climbing into bed.
When I woke a couple of hours later, my back was even more painful. "I think I might have a bath. My back really is sore," I told Jomny.
He nodded and said, "Jomny will run it and then inform your mother."
"Alright," I agreed, and laid there a few minutes more before gingerly getting up to go have my bath.
The bath turned out to be a bad idea. Not only was it hard getting into it without help, but there was nothing to do but let my mind wander, and it seemed to want to think about how soon I was going to lose my parents. I felt a wave of grief and guilt at the thought of never seeing them again. Feeling guilty made me think of this past year and a certain someone I was trying very hard not to think about. Soon, the tears were pouring down my face again.
"Hermione?" my mum said with worry as she came in. I turned my head away so she wouldn't see. Apparently, I failed because she came over and hugged me. "I wish you would talk to me," she whispered, and that just made me cry more. There was no way I could explain any of this to her, and while I knew she and my dad loved me, I felt more alone than I had in my entire life.
"I'm ready to get out now," I said once I was composed. She sighed but grabbed a towel for me. As she was helping me out of the bath, I almost fell, and she had to catch me as a contraction caught me off guard.
"I think it is time I rang the doctor," she said with authority.
"I'm sure it's fine. Just a Braxton Hicks contraction," I replied, my voice sounding hollow again.
"I'll be calling anyway," she told me as she escorted me to my bedroom.
"Jomny will dry you, My Lady," the House Elf said when I was alone in my room again.
"Alright," I said, not really caring. He clicked his fingers a few times, and he also dressed me in clothes I didn't want to be wearing but was so past caring that I just laid down sideways on my pillow and waited for my mum to come back and tell me what I was starting to suspect. I knew I was a bit slow today, but even as I lay there, I had another contraction, and it was more painful than any Braxton Hicks had ever been.
"Breath, My Lady," I heard Jomny say, and then his little hand with its long fingers took mine. I hadn't realised I was holding my breath until he mentioned it, but I did as he said, and the contraction seemed to ease at the same time.
"Thank you," I breathed, and then started to cry again as Draco's face entered my mind. "Do you think he would have held my hand? If he was here?" I asked, and hated that I cared so much.
"Lord Draco loves you and your little fire dragon. He would have loved to be here," he told me. That should have made it better, but it felt so much worse. My mum came back through the door then and sighed at seeing my tears again.
"Jomny," she said to him, "can you please go into my nightstand bottom draw? You will find a nightgown wrapped in tissue paper. Could you please bring it here?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and popped away.
"I don't need a nightgown," I muttered.
"It's for the hospital bag," she said softly, then added, "The doctor wants you brought straight to the hospital. He is worried about your medical history. He said he couldn't find any further medical records." She explained as Jomny popped back into the room and handed the package to her. "Would you mind getting the baby bag and the one I packed for Hermione to take to the hospital?"
"Yes, ma'am," he repeated, and once again popped away. I was sure he was just glad to be useful.
"I have a folder in my bag if you will pass it to me," I told her, and pointed to where it was sitting over on my desk. She went and got it, and when she got back, I used my wand to call the folder from it.
"Come on, up you get. Your dad should have the car ready by now, and I am sure your Jomny will have everything in it," she told me.
"Alright," I agreed again and allowed her to help me to my feet. She helped me put on shoes, and then we left my room behind, and I knew that nothing was ever going to be the same in this house from this moment on for me.
I was quiet all the way to the hospital, and the only time my mum spoke was when she reminded me to breathe through any pain I was having. She had chosen to sit in the back with me and hold my hand. My dad kept giving me worried glances in the rearview mirror, but I ignored him and just watched the scenery go by without seeing it.
We walked through the hospital, and the nurse kept speaking happily, but I wasn't really paying attention. I froze outside one door when I heard a woman screaming from inside and shared a look of terror with my dad, who came and hugged me. I wondered if he needed the comfort as much as I did.
My mum took me into the bathroom and helped me change into the white nightgown that tied together on my shoulders and had buttons all the way down the front. The nurse had suggested I change before getting into the bed.
When that was done, the nurse chatted happily, determined to ignore the sombre mood of the rest of us, and tucked the blanket over my lap before having me expose my belly to put sensors on me with belts.
"What are these?" I asked softly.
"This will allow us to hear your baby's heartbeat and monitor the contractions," the nurse responded kindly. She got everything adjusted and turned the machine on. "There you go. Sounds perfect," she said with a smile and patted the hand my mum wasn't gripping tightly. "The doctor will be in to see you in a few minutes." I just nodded, rubbing the lower part of my stomach absently, when she had walked away.
"Good morning, folks, or afternoon now, I suppose," the doctor I had seen months before said with a chuckle as he walked into the room. He was wearing pink scrubs. "How are you doing, Miss Granger?" he asked, coming over to talk to me.
"I'm fine," I said, sounding dead inside. He frowned at the tone and glanced at my parents, but otherwise just pulled a rolling stool towards himself and sat down.
"The reason I asked your mum to bring you in so soon is because of your history of placenta previa and high blood pressure, but I don't seem to be able to find any further details or your medical records," he explained. My mum pulled the folder out of her purse that I had given her at home and handed it to him. He took it and carefully read through the contents for a few minutes.
"Well, everything does look as though it was going well, except for the occasional bout of high blood pressure. I see we also both miscalculated your due date. I had been concerned we were about to have a premature birth, but you seem to be a few weeks further along than initial scanning suggested. Not to worry though; it happens sometimes," he told me with a comforting smile. "I also see that the placenta previa seems to have solved itself, but to be on the safe side, I think we will do a scan if that is alright?"
"That's fine," I muttered. He turned to the nurse and gave her some instructions before she pulled over the ultrasound machine from the corner, and then he used a wand and with some gel, moving it all over my lower belly.
"He looks good," he said as he looked intently at the screen. "He is in the correct position, and I can see the placenta is out of the way of the birth canal," he explained, and then handed the wand back to the nurse, who took it back away and then wiped the goo from my belly with a cloth. "Were you hoping for a natural birth, or did you prefer a c-section? Usually, I wouldn't ask, but with your history, a c-section is the preferred method of delivery," he told me softly. I just shrugged, and he sighed. "How about we see how you go then? It is always better for the mum to have a natural birth if you can."
"Alright," I agreed. He nodded and stood up.
"I have to give you an internal exam to see how you are progressing. If that's alright?" He asked me gently. I just nodded again. My dad turned to look out the window while my mum muttered about me being alright. The exam was uncomfortable, and I didn't like how the gloves felt. The intrusion of his fingers brought tears to my eyes again, and I turned my face into my mum's stomach.
"You're alright. You're alright," she just kept repeating, but she sounded just as distressed as I felt.
"You are progressing very well. Already three centimetres dilated," the doctor said, snapping the gloves back off.
"Thank you, Doctor," I heard my mum say even as I continued to cry against her.
"Let us know if we can help with anything, folks," he said, and I assume he was talking to all of us. "We will accommodate you any way we can. I'll leave you to the midwife for now, but I will be back to check on you often, alright?" he heard him say. My dad grunted while my mum thanked him again. Soon we were alone, and I was able to gain some composure. I met my dad's eyes as he paced, and he looked both furious and scared.
For hours, the pain increased until I couldn't stop the pained sounds, and the doctor had to give me medication to keep my blood pressure down. I had an IV inserted into my hand so I could receive the fluids and medications I was going to need. The one he gave me now made me sleepy, so I gratefully slept for a while.
When I woke, both my parents were sitting in chairs next to me, but it didn't look like anyone's mood had improved. My labour was incredibly slow and painful, but nobody seemed concerned about that while my blood pressure stayed under control.
My mum had to help me go to the bathroom a few times and seemed grateful when my dad decided to go to the cafeteria to see if he could get some food and drinks.
"Can I walk for a bit?" I asked my mum as we came out of the bathroom again.
"If you like," she agreed, and then supported me as I paced around the room. My back was really bothering me again, and then I had to stop once and hold on to her as a particularly strong contraction gripped my belly, making me cry out in pain. "Breath," she was saying as she held me, and then my dad was behind me and rubbing my back. It was nice, and I was left breathing heavily for a minute. They made me get back into the bed, and my dad handed me an apple juice and a straw so I could sip it.
"Thank you," I said, and he gave me a wan smile.
Later, the doctor came back in to check on my progress. I was quite distressed by the pain, so the doctor gave me some more medication. He also talked to me about something called an epidural, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to do that. He said I still had time to decide. The medication worked quickly, and then I was able to sleep again. My parents were asked if they wanted a cot brought in, but they both declined.
I woke a short time later in more pain than ever and cried out so loudly that it was almost a scream. The pain had me throwing up, which just added to my misery. I was talked into an epidural, but I was also told it would be a while before the anesthesiologist would be able to get to me. My mum held me as I cried.
"I'll kill him, I'll kill him," my dad growled repeatedly as I cried through my pain. We were alone again. "If I ever get my hands on that boy, I swear I will kill him."
"Daniel, please. You are not helping," my mum begged him as she drew back from me, and I looked over at him too.
"Look at our daughter. Look what he has done to her! This shouldn't be happening to our little girl," he said, looking right at her and then started to cry himself. My mum raced over to hold him, even as I stared in shock. I didn't remember ever seeing my dad cry.
When the anesthesiologist arrived, everyone was calmed down but no less upset. The needle didn't really hurt; it was just a strange pressure on my back and then a feeling that reminded me of the Disillusionment Charm that seemed to slither down my spine, and the pain evaporated with it.
"Thank you," I said to the man with real feeling. He gave me a smile.
"All the ladies like me," he quipped. I gave the joke the little smile it deserved.
"You should be able to sleep again now," the midwife told me. I looked at my tired parents and felt guilty.
"Go to sleep while you can, honey," my dad said, his voice sounding gruff. I looked at them both for a minute, then nodded and closed my eyes.
It felt like only minutes had passed when the midwife was back, but she moved around the room quietly while my parents sat just as silent.
"I need to check on your progress," she told me, seeing my eyes open. I nodded and watched as she put gloves on and put some gel on her fingers. When she inserted them, I sucked in a breath at the uncomfortable intrusion and stared at the ceiling. My dad took my hand that was clutching at the blanket. "Up to seven centimetres now," she whispered with an encouraging smile that I didn't appreciate. I was disappointed; I had hoped to be closer to the end.
By three AM, the pain was back, and the contractions were much more regular but still more than five minutes apart. I was humming loudly in pain, but the midwife was back and injected some medicine into the tube that was going over my shoulder and into my back. That weird feeling flowed down me again, and the pain all but disappeared again.
Just after five AM, my water broke, and everybody but me seemed happy with that. My night gown was dry, thankfully, and somehow the nurse came and changed all my bedding while never removing me from it or exposing me to the room. It seemed to me to be a true talent.
The doctor came in a short time later and said, "I'd like to check how things are progressing."
"Alright," I agreed softly.
"Nine centimetres," he said. "A bit longer yet." I sagged in disappointment again and wanted to scream. I just wanted this all to be over. "How is the pain?" he asked.
"Not bad," I said. He nodded and patted my hand before leaving again. I lay again with my eyes closed for a while, but I couldn't sleep now. Draco's face kept pushing into my mind, and I struggled not to cry. My dad decided he needed a bit of air and went for a walk, leaving me alone with my mum.
"How are you doing?" she said softly after a few minutes.
"Tired. Sore." Then I couldn't stop the words, "I miss him," from escaping my lips, and her face softened. The tears started again then.
"Is there no hope?" she asked, and I shook my head. She reached up to brush some hair out of my face. "I never wanted this for you. I wanted you to know love and to one day have a baby when you were ready," she said, and tears were in her eyes.
"I knew love, and I wish I didn't," I told her.
"Don't say that," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe…"
"No!" I said, firmly. "There are no maybes here. I should have never let this happen. I know that, but I will never regret Aiden. He will be the best bit of this nightmare."
"Does that mean you have decided to keep him?" she asked hopefully. I just stared back at her and was unable to kill that hope.
"Yes," I lied. "He will be with us always," I prevaricated.
"I'm so glad, sweetheart. You know your dad, and I will help you anyway we can."
"I know," I agreed. Another contraction hit me, and I sucked in a breath before remembering to breathe again. I panted through the pain that was increasing again, tears coming to my eyes with the intensity.
"Do you want me to call for more pain medication?" She asked.
"No," I said, and it sounded like I was crying even though I wasn't. When it was done, I laid my head back with my eyes closed, just so I could compose myself again. "It really isn't that bad yet, and I don't think I like how my legs feel with the medication, even if the lack of pain is nice," I told her with an ironic smile. She gave a tentative one back. I knew I had to do better then, and I didn't know why exactly, but the idea of meeting Aiden soon suddenly gave me renewed strength.
A little before seven, the doctor said I was at ten centimetres, but I didn't feel like pushing yet. I was tired, and even Aiden didn't seem to be in any hurry; his heartbeat was still calm and steady. My dad was back in the room, and looked calmer too. My parents started telling me funny stories about when I was a baby, and my dad rubbed my back through my contractions. I thought it was a pity the whole night hadn't been like this, but it was nice while it lasted.
Half an hour later, things changed drastically, and the pressure on my body was immense. My parents stood either side of me, each holding a hand, as the doctor sat between my legs, getting ready to help me.
"You can do this, Hermione," my dad told me with confidence in his voice, and I leaned up to push and screamed out my pain. It was frustrating because nothing seemed to happen.
"That's good," the doctor seemed to disagree. "Use the contractions to help you, and rest when they are over." Another was upon me quickly, and I screamed again, tears of pain streaming down my face. This time I knew things were happening as I felt pressure on my opening. "Good," the doctor repeated. They were coming fast now, and I barely had time to breathe before another had me needing to push, and I felt like I was on fire as I felt myself spread wide.
"You're doing great, sweetheart," my mum said as she brushed my sweety hair from my face with her free hand. I just cried, feeling as if I were being torn in half. Another contraction and more pushing, but once again, barely anything happened, and I cried out in frustration.
"This is perfectly normal," the doctor told me.
"You're insane!" I snarled, and he gave me a gentle smile.
"So, I have been told," he agreed, not at all offended. Another contraction was on me, and I was screaming again as I pushed, my parents still holding tightly to my hands. "You are doing very good," the doctor told me again, and then firmly said, "Push," on the next contraction. I pushed with everything I had, and then my eyes widened in shock as I felt his head pop out.
"Nearly there," the doctor said with encouragement. "Another big push, and hopefully your little boy will be with us."
"Alright," I panted, and then the need to push was upon me, and I pushed hard again. I screamed louder than ever at the pain of his shoulders coming out, and suddenly everything seemed to slide out all at once. In the next moment, the doctor was lifting a screaming baby onto my belly. Everything seemed to happen fast. The doctor asked my dad if he wanted to cut the cord, which he did quickly with shaking hands. The nurse came over with a towel and quickly wiped blood off him, then wrapped him in a blanket and placed him in my arms. The moment I saw his face, I was in love. "He's so beautiful," I said with wonder.
"Yes, he is," my mum agreed. I shared a look with both my parents, and they looked just as taken with him as I was.
"Hello Aiden," I said to the baby in my arms, and he seemed to look right back at me, even if his eyes were a little unfocused. He also looked as tired as I felt. Aiden Drake Granger was born on Saturday, 12 July 1997, at 7:46 AM and weighed 7 lbs, 4 oz, and was 49cm long.
I fell completely in love with my baby. My Little Fire Dragon. He was the most precious thing I had ever seen, with his bald head and his tiny fingers. For four days, I was made to stay in the hospital, and for three of those four days, Aiden cried if I put him down. I didn't mind; I felt greedy in my need to spend time with him. I wanted to memorise every feature of his face, the perfect profile of his nose, the delicate arc of his ears, every unique sound he made, and every curve of his tiny body. It never even dawned on me that I would love feeding my baby, but that was also miraculous to me.
Before I was released from the hospital, I was visited by a mental health doctor who expressed concerns over the possibility of postpartum blues. I didn't talk much to the female doctor. There really was nothing I could say. How do you explain to somebody that you are giving up a baby you love and want because there is a war going on—a war she had no idea existed? A war we hoped the Muggles would never know about.
My parents were concerned but believed the doctor when she said that I had baby blues and that with love and support, I would be fine in time. I let them believe it. They continued with plans to move and didn't even mind that I rarely put Aiden down. The second week, I strived to allow them bonding time with him, but it was hard, and I felt like I was ripping a limb off every time.
Jomny was still hanging around and was determined to stay until I had to leave. He was sad and quiet, but he handed me the pack of after-baby potions I had been too distracted to remember to use. I hugged him in thanks, and he patted me back. He sat with me as I went through the pack.
It contained three potions that promise to restore the lower torso to its pre-pregnancy state. They came in small green opaque bottles, each labelled with a number: Day 1, Day 2, and Day 3. The instructions advised consuming the entire 200-ml content at once. The pack also includes a single pad that was highly absorbent and designed for one-day use only. The instructions stated that it must be incinerated after use and that it could cause irreversible harm or even death if worn longer than twenty-four hours.
Another potion, named 'Arida Tincture', stated it was meant to stop milk production. The potion claimed to be painless, fast, and effective and to be taken only once. I knew I was going to have to stop feeding Aiden, but not until I absolutely had to. For those who wished to continue breastfeeding and also use bottles, the pack provided breast pads that could be washed and reused. The washing instructions recommended soaking them in magical cold water. The pack also contained Blood-Replenishing Potions, Vitamix Potions, Pain Relief Potions, and a magical nipple salve for use between feedings.
Regrettably, the day of Harry's birthday arrived, and my time ran out. My parents were in the living room watching TV while I fed Aiden one last time, tears streaming down my face the entire time. He had reached his little hand up and patted my cheek as though he were comforting me, his little ocean-blue new-born eyes watching me. I kissed his tiny fingers and hugged him tighter, wishing I could stop time and keep him with me forever.
Jomny took the time to move all of Aiden's things into my parents' room and remove any last traces of me from mine. I held Aiden in my arms as I went down the stairs, feeling his weight and his breath. I supported him with one hand the entire time I held my wand, pointing it at my parents and erasing myself from their lives. It was strange to see the few pictures still out change. I wasn't exactly gone, but I knew my parents would no longer see me in them, and neither would anybody else. I stunned them into a temporary sleep, knowing I needed a minute to finish. I kissed them both on the forehead and whispered goodbyes and I love you's, guilt and sorrow consuming me.
I looked down at Aiden, who still seemed to be watching me, but a little frown was on his brow. I kissed it away, feeling so much love and fear. He was so small and fragile, but I hugged him to me and kissed him a few more times, telling him I loved him so much and that he was going to be safe and happy with his grandparents. Parents, now.
Jomny had popped down, and he was watching me silently. He had a look on his face as though he were employing his own version of Occlumency. When he could see I was as ready as I was ever going to be, he opened my dad's shirt for me. I laid Aiden against his chest, lifting an arm to hold him in place, and the baby still seemed to watch me. I quickly signed the adoption papers and left them on the coffee table. I put a Compulsion Charm on the papers that I knew would affect them and the lawyer to make sure they were filed expediently and properly, without any questions or doubts. I wanted nothing to interfere with them taking him to Australia, where he would be safe.
"Jomny will be going now, My Lady," Jomny told me. I nodded, but he didn't pop away. He turned and touched Aiden. "Jomny will watch out for you when he can." I said nothing. He turned back to me, bowed, and then popped away. I went over and kissed Aiden one last time. He started to cry then, and I hated that I couldn't comfort him. I left the room and made sure I reversed the stun spell as I did. I stood in the hallway for a moment to hear my parents exclaiming and trying to calm my baby, and then quietly slipped from the house for the last time.
I quickly took the Arida Tincture and then picked up Hedwig in her cage that Jomny had left for me on the doorstep. I walked away sobbing uncontrollably until I could make myself swallow the potion Draco had made. It surprised me how easily all the memories of our time together outside of the room came to me. There hadn't been many, but they had certainly been important to me. The memories of Aiden were just as close to the surface of my mind. I reached the end of my street, a street I had grown up on, and looked back at my parents' house. It was hard to leave them behind, but they would be safer in Australia, and I knew they would never understand why I needed to stay here. I just hoped they had a happy life together and never regretted that they never managed to have any children.
Hogwarts More Than Twenty years later
It was parent's day at Hogwarts, and while wandering the familiar halls and rooms with feelings of nostalgia, I came across one that made me swallow nervously, and I wasn't exactly sure why. I recalled that I had often headed down here when I wanted to study in peace but, for some reason, never went inside.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I waved my wand, casting a simple unlocking spell, pushed the heavy wooden door open, and stepped closer to the threshold. I saw a bare room that was lit by nothing yet was bright enough to be comfortable, and the runes covering the walls and ceiling gave off a separate soft glow. The room was also pleasantly warm, with no obvious heat source.
Moving forward, I could see the rune for truth was the most prominent in the room. The door swung closed behind me with a soft click and locked itself. I felt a surge of panic, but then memories came flooding back from years earlier. Memories of him. Memories of us. I felt an overwhelming pain crash over me, as if no time had passed at all, and I had to clutch my chest to try to hold it in. I felt tears stinging at my eyes as I remembered just how much I had lost—how much I had given up all those years ago.
Everything I felt in my marriage felt like a half-kept promise. It couldn't compare to the feelings this room invoked in me or the memories made. I tried to tell myself it was just the remembered teenage hormones and the thrill and excitement of the time. The danger we had both faced that bound us, but it felt like so much more. It felt like he and I were what was supposed to be, and yet... And yet.
I heard the door open behind me, and I turned around. Draco Malfoy stepped in and closed it behind him before he looked at me. He sucked in a breath as the memories assaulted him, and he gasped much like I had. We stood there staring at each other, seeing each other in a way that we hadn't since that last night here so many years before.
"Why are you here?" I managed to get out, my voice strained, and I hated that I noticed the years had been kind. Somehow, after more than twenty years, he had become even more beautiful, even wearing one of his standard plain black suits. I, on the other hand, looked frumpy in my conservative plaid-pink business dress with its black piping and matching robe. I hated myself a little bit for even noticing, thinking it shouldn't even matter, and yet it felt like it mattered a great deal… here.
"That night, all those years ago, I gave my House Elf his freedom. It was a necessary measure to protect him from Voldemort, who harboured a deep mistrust for the creatures and so had a habit of killing them. Before my departure, I entrusted Jomny with a letter," he said, waving the old piece of parchment I hadn't noticed in his hand.
"I instructed him to deliver it to me if circumstances ever led to both of us being at Hogwarts again or if he spotted you entering this place. I might have also tasked him with keeping an eye on your whereabouts whenever you visited. It felt like the most practical solution at the time," he confessed, a sardonic smile playing on his lips that didn't reach his eyes.
"Why?" I breathed, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. I really couldn't see anything good that could come from us being trapped in here together now.
"I recalled nothing until this moment," he said, looking down my body and then away. "I ingested the same potion I made for you. It was the only safe course of action at the time. I hadn't wanted to, but I brewed one for myself in the event that I wasn't able to get back and had to protect you. I wanted so much to be coming back," he said, and looked at me to see my reaction to that.
"I wanted you to come back, and I hated myself for that want. The death of Dumbledore…" I shook my head. "I don't know how I would have justified that to myself, but I know I would have." He looked away again.
"Remember my dairy?" he asked, his grey eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before moving down and off to the side.
"Yes," I answered carefully as I tried hard to pretend I wasn't just as aware of him.
"I couldn't risk taking it with me that night, so I left it in the Room of Requirement," he explained. I winced as I remembered what had happened to the room. "Were you aware it's repairing itself?" he asked, but had turned to study one of the useless rune-covered walls.
"No, I didn't, but I suppose that makes sense. That Fiendfyre should have consumed the school, and yet that room kept it contained," I replied, more just because I needed to say something.
"Yes," he agreed. "I still have the dreamcatcher," he said, and I knew it wasn't a random thought, but I sucked in a breath at the memory of giving it to him. "I remember when I found it at the bottom of my bag. I was going to throw it away until I felt its power. I thought I must have found it in the Room of Requirement and forgotten. It helped me sleep for years." He looked at me again, his eyes shining with gratitude and something else. Something deeper and more intense. I swallowed at the look but was also confused because I knew he hadn't left with the dreamcatcher. It was my turn to look away from him.
"I don't like being in here," I said. "It feels cruel." My hand was pressing against my chest still, trying to contain the pain.
"Yes," he agreed again, and looked as if staying where he was was taking great effort. "Have you ever seen him?" he whispered. I took a calming breath and licked my lips before I could speak again.
"After the war, I went to Australia to find my parents. I was still hopeful of reversing the Obliviation, though I knew it was impossible." Draco grimaced a little, but I smiled softly at the memory. "They were so happy. They had adopted a baby boy, and he was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. I watched them take him to a park, and he sat happily playing in the sand. He had perfectly white-blonde hair and brown eyes. I sat and listened to a conversation my mum was having with another woman, and she said his name was Aiden. I couldn't stop looking at him and didn't know why."
I blew out a shaky breath so I could continue, and Draco watched me intently, hanging on every word. "Last year, I was invited to the Ministry down there, and Aiden was there. He is still young, and he was doing an internship under the Minister herself. He was confident and charming, talking to everyone with ease. He was excited to talk about starting university in the coming year. He was going to study law," I finished, feeling a surge of pride for him.
"After so long, I would have thought he would have been working there," he said, with a bit of confusion, and I couldn't help a little smile at the look.
"Australia's school system for magical's runs much more parallel with the Muggle world. I got to speak with him for quite some time. I found myself fascinated with the boy I thought was my adopted brother. He had already been to university once before, but he had been unsure of what he wanted to focus his studies on. I believe he may be smarter than either of us." I smiled widely at that thought. "He went on and on about how he had been travelling around the world with his best friend Jimny until recently."
"And I thought we had unusual naming practices here?" Draco said, with a touch of self-deprecation. I laughed, a sound he smiled at.
"Turns out Jimny is a House Elf that appeared in his bedroom when he was five and terrified my parents," I replied and chuckled again, imagining the scene.
"I might need to consult Jomny about that. Around that time, I too received a new House Elf; her name is Jonmy," he explained with a frown of thought.
"You think it is related?" I asked in surprise.
"House Elves like to use similar names in their family lines," he explained, and then we fell silent.
"Thank you," he said after the prolonged pause, and I knew he was talking about Aiden.
I blurted then with realisation, "Merlin, but he looks like you at the same age. If it wasn't for the eyes, he could have been you in looks." Draco smirked a little at that.
"It doesn't sound like he acted like me," he commented.
"No, he was exceedingly kind, and his face is much too honest and open to have ever been a Slytherin," I told him, and smirked a little myself at that. He chuckled. Unfortunately, the chuckle hurt to hear, and a sob burst from me, and then I was crying in earnest, feeling everything I shouldn't be.
"Please, don't cry," he said, taking a step towards me but stopped himself. He clenched fists and gritted his teeth. His grey eyes were filled with anguish and regret as he looked at me. He was quiet for a moment, even as he watched me, then said, "I'm curious if he has your temper?" and I couldn't help laughing a little, but it couldn't stop the pain in my heart. Suddenly, he screamed in pain and fury, making me jump, and spun to repeatedly punch the wall. The sound of his knuckles cracking echoed in the room. He stopped and rested his head against the wall, his chest heaving. "I feel like I have been unfaithful to you," he said with pain.
"I feel the same way," I said, shaking with nerves and rubbing my arms to hide the shaking. We were both quiet again until he was calm enough to turn back around, and my eyes dropped to his red, irritated knuckles, the skin split and bleeding. I remembered then that the first time I touched him was to heal his knuckles with a healing salve.
"It explains a few things," he murmured, looking at me speculatively when my eyes lifted back to his.
"Like, what?" I asked.
"The Manor never recognised my wife as Lady Malfoy," he said. I just shook my head, not understanding and unwilling to ask something that wouldn't change anything. He watched me for a moment before he spoke again. "How were you?" He asked, and I knew exactly what he meant.
"You have a son, Draco; surely you know," I replied, really not wanting to talk about it.
He shook his head and grimaced. "Astoria's family has strict rules around childbirth. It is part of their family magic. All I was told was that it was silent and peaceful."
"Well. Good. For. Her." I said with instant anger, sarcasm, and a hell of a lot of jealousy. He just stared at me without judgement, but I could see he was desperate to know. "It was one of the worst experiences of my life, not only because of how much pain I was in, but because you weren't there," I told him with blunt honesty, that hurt us both. He clenched his hands again and looked away.
"I want to slaughter Weasley for ever touching you," he said with quiet fury.
"Oh Merlin, I feel sick! My entire adult life feels like a mistake," I said, feeling a wave of nausea and holding my stomach. I could taste the bile rising in my throat and had to swallow to hold it back. Draco's eyes dropped to the gesture and then away again.
"I'm uncertain if this will help at all, but you really got the best of me. I'm aware there were a lot of secrets, but I wanted to be everything for you. Astoria got a friend at most, and thankfully she has never expected more," he said in a reserved voice, as if he wished he didn't have to admit it.
"No, it doesn't help, but thank you for trying," I said, just looking back at him, feeling so much regret for what could have been.
"And you… you and…"
"Please stop," I said, not wanting to say things I knew I shouldn't. Things I didn't want to admit were lacking in my marriage.
"I need something," he muttered, running a hand down his face. "Something that makes me want to kill him a little less."
"He is my best friend. He makes me laugh even after the hardest of days, but…" I swallowed and couldn't make myself say what was on the tip of my tongue. I looked at the runes on the walls and hated that I could feel them pushing at me, wanting me to say terrible things.
"But?" He pushed, and the look in his eyes was desperate. I closed my eyes, feeling sick, trying not to say something I had never even confessed to my husband.
"I don't like… sex," I whispered, then opened my eyes and looked at him, and suddenly that wasn't true at all. "With him," I added because the room made me. Instantly, I felt terribly guilty. Draco looked confused for a moment and then looked angry.
"Did he hurt you?" He demanded, taking multiple steps towards me before he stopped himself again.
"No!" I deigned at once, shaking my head. "Please don't make me talk about this!" I begged him. The one time I had liked sex with my husband was the night after the battle, when tensions were running high and we had just needed to feel alive after so much loss. He had become much too careful after that.
Draco continued to watch me, looking intense, but I couldn't read him now like I once could. He had buried his emotions for so long that he rarely ever smiled. His demeanour most of the time reminded me of Severus Snape when out in the real world. His continued staring had me thinking of a recent conversation with my husband, and I confessed, "He wants another baby." Draco breathed angrily and stepped back until his back was flat against the wall.
"And will you?"
"No," I said at once.
"Did you reach that conclusion this very moment or out there?" he asked, pointing towards the door.
"I knew from the moment he suggested it that I wouldn't, but I haven't told him that," I replied.
"I see," he said carefully. I turned to look at him standing against the wall and wished I could go and comfort him, but I stayed where I was.
"I'm not a good mother, Draco. I prefer my work," I said guiltily.
"And yet you are here, showing your support to them. I have also heard it boasted by many that your children adore you. If they are aware of your love for them, you must be doing something correctly," he told me.
"Believe me, it is all the work of their father. He keeps us all balanced," I whispered in a bit of honesty I wished wasn't true.
"That bloody Weasel ought to be doing that regardless. He received far more than he merited when you agreed to be his," he said, and I winced in pain at those words. I remember all too well claiming to be Draco's while in this room. Draco looked away again, but from his clenched fists, I could see he regretted his words.
"I love my life," I sobbed. "It's not perfect, but it is mine. I have beautiful children, and a husband who loves me, who I love, and a job I never would have believed I could have gotten back then. And I wouldn't if not for his support."
"Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger-Weasley, is incredibly impressive," he said, and tried to smirk, but his face was holding just as much pain as mine.
"You don't seem to find it impressive when I oppose your views," I said, thinking of the last Wizengamot meeting and wiping the tears from my face that kept falling.
"Yes, I do. I have always been impressed by you," he said, and then frowned and gave a wall of runes an annoyed look.
"And you? Have you been happy?" I asked, ignoring the statement, wishing the damned tears would stop. It was almost strange to ask. We saw each other at Wizengamot meetings, and he had been around the Ministry a lot over the years for various reasons. We knew things about each other's lives, but not like we knew each other here.
"Yes," he said, then seemed to fight with himself before turning haunted eyes towards me. "Astoria is dying," he whispered.
"I'm so sorry," I replied, my face still wet with tears, and he nodded.
"I should have been better to her, but I felt barely human after the war. Astoria and I understood each other. Our friendship was borne out of a shared history that we both wished never occurred. I had no desire for a relationship, and she was so frail I never imagined she sought one either. But in time, she proposed a bargain. Her illness had always prevented her from living independently, and she was weary of being the perpetual child under her parents' care. I was lonely enough that I agreed to marry her, allowing her to reside in my home without causing a scandal. Naturally, my father despised the arrangement, which only inspired it to me further. All respect I once held for my father died with my childhood. My mother, on the other hand, was far more gracious to Astoria, although she made it clear to me on more than one occasion that she would have still preferred Pansy." Draco grimaced at the name of his former fiancée.
"And you came to love her?" I asked softly, and hated that I wanted the answer to be no. He looked at me for a few long seconds again before shifting his eyes to the wall behind me.
"She is my friend, the mother of my son, and I love her for that," he said. His words seemed measured and precise. I frowned at that, not knowing if that was really an answer, but the room had allowed it, so I had to as well. I looked down at the floor, not knowing what else to say, and we were both quiet for a few long, uncomfortable minutes.
"Are you aware that my son Scorpius believes himself in love with your daughter?" He asked, and I looked up at that. He tried to smile again, but it fell short of the one I had loved so much.
"Rose tells me he is an annoying gnat," I replied, forcing myself to smile and think about the antics of young teenagers. "It seems your curse is still working for her. Shouldn't your son despise her on principle?"
"I'm uncertain, but from what I've deduced, the curse doesn't appear to hold much power over anyone now," he replied. His voice was low and strained, as if he were trying to remember how to show his softer emotions. He looked around the room again and then, with sudden anger, said, "I hope they never find themselves here."
"Me too," I said, and rubbed my arms again as a chill set in at the thought. "This room is just too cruel. Or too perfect," I added because the damned room made me add that truth.
"Yes," he agreed again. He took a moment and then added, "I want my son to have the ability to shout his love from the roof tops if he wants to."
"It should never be locked away," I agreed in a whisper and wanted so badly to be able to hold him, but of course morality held me back. I had no intention of being unfaithful to Ron.
"I wish things could have been different, but I would never wish away my son," he admitted.
"Yes," I agreed this time.
"We will remember everything the potion took from us now. The room, of course, will keep its secrets," he said, looking unhappy. I knew the feeling. We were going to walk out of this room knowing we shared a son and had missed his whole life. I had no idea how these memories were going to change things, and the idea scared me.
"I have always wanted to apologise to you for what happened at the Manor," he said as he noticed me rubbing my arms. I dropped them and closed my eyes as more terrible memories rose up inside of me.
"I never blamed you," I whispered past the lump in my throat.
"I felt dead inside most of the time by then. A walking corpse, but observing what my aunt was doing to you…" he shook his head angrily. "I was at a loss, unable to comprehend why it struck me so profoundly. I had been a silent witness to countless acts of torture and death, to the point where it should have been merely another day. But seeing you…" he shook his head again. "I was a coward. Too scared to act. Too scared to risk my own life, even as I felt as if I was being cut open even as you were." I swallowed hard at those words, but couldn't really comment. I didn't really remember him being there. My whole world in those minutes was all about pain, and the pain didn't go away until long after we were far from his home.
"You helped in the end. You tossed Harry that wand," I pointed out.
"That was the one and only time I have ever truly done something brave in my life," he muttered, his voice devoid of life again. I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn't true, that he had protected Aiden and me, but I didn't think he would believe that was a type of bravery.
We spent a long time silent then, and I didn't know about him, but I was really wishing that I couldn't remember everything that had ever happened in this room. A few times he looked like he wanted to speak, but I was glad he didn't. There was too much left that could be said, and all of it was painful and hopeless, so when the door clicked open, I started for it at once. I had my hand on the handle when his hand caught mine, stopping me.
"Don't," I said, unable to look at him and wishing I didn't love the feel of his skin on mine.
"In this room, I am sixteen years old, and I love you more than anyone in the whole world. It is unfair that I can still feel that. I want you so damned much, and I would remain in this room with you forever if I could," he said, his voice raw with emotion and suddenly sounding like my Draco from so long ago. If I turned and looked at him now, I was afraid that I would be unable to deny that I wanted the same thing.
"Hermione Granger still loves you too," I said on a broken-hearted cry of pain, and then yanked open the door and left, hearing an agonised scream. His scream echoed in my ears even after I couldn't remember why I had tears streaming down my face. I walked across to the corridor wall to place my hands against the hard stone for support and couldn't understand why I felt shattered until my thinking cleared enough to remember things long forgotten because of a potion. I had memories of a baby boy and of a deep love, and I knew I loved Draco Malfoy as much as I did when we were brave and reckless, when we had lived in a hopeless world.
Author's notes: - ARandomGirlInRavenclaw,ForsakenKalika, thank you for reading every week. It has meant a lot to me.
If anyone would like to write a story about the life of Aiden Drake Granger, I would love to read it. I do have some ideas I could suggest, such as:
1. He gained a House Elf at the age of five named Jimny, a son of Jomny. They became best friends.
2. He looks a lot like Draco Malfoy, and in his early twenties is 6ft 3inchs tall. He has white-blonde hair but Hermione's brown eyes. He is also incredibly kind, smart, and open.
3. He always knew the truth about who his parents were because the Obliviation didn't work on him. He could see all the photos of her childhood and read the names of his parents on the adoption forms his parents/grandparents still had.
4. His parents/grandparents had come to the conclusion that because they only saw the name of Draco Malfoy on the forms that his 'unknown' mum must have died in childbirth.
5. He had loved meeting Hermione at the Australian Ministry and telling her about his life. He even knew she didn't remember who he was because his House Elf/best friend would tell him a story of their love and sacrifice as a bedtime story when he was little from an old journal of hers. He loved that she had been brave and given him wonderful parents that she knew would accept him.
But ultimately, the story would be yours to do with as you saw fit, and you could use all or none of these suggestions. Thank you to Everyone for reading my story.
Or
If you would like to read a what if? What if different decisions were made? To read the alternate/continued story, please go to the next page. If not, thank you again for making it this far.
I love my original idea for this story, but I also love Draco and Hermione together, and find I can't let them go.
Play List
How not to – Dan + Shay
Friends Don't – Maddie and Tae
Never know – Bad Omens
The Heart wants what it wants – Selena Gomez
In the woods somewhere – Hozier
I can see you – Taylor Swift
Burning house – Cam
Greedy – Tate McRae
War – Sum 41
Can't pretend – Tom Odell
Keep on loving you – REO Speedwagon
Middle of the night – Elley Duhe
Secret love song, Pt. II – Little Mix
Heartbroken – Diplo, Jessie Murph, Polo G