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
Draco's Point of View
I woke up in a room I had never seen before. The curtain was open, letting the bright sunshine in, but even the scenery, or what I could discern of it from my prone position, didn't tell me where I was. I brought my hand carefully up to my throat and encountered something hard that felt like spiders' legs holding my skin together. That confused me. No injury I had ever heard of was treated in this manner. I attempted to swallow, and it was like swallowing glass. It puzzled me why that hadn't been healed as well. I was beginning to have an unsettling feeling about where I was.
The door to the right swung open, and I managed to turn my head just enough to catch sight of Hermione Granger entering the room. I instinctively recoiled, certain she was about to launch an attack while I was utterly defenceless. That was when I noticed the stomach, and I frowned at that, even as she came further into the room. As our eyes met, a wave of relief swept across her face. However, she then shook her head slightly, and a hint of sadness flickered across her features, only to be quickly replaced by an inscrutable expression. She didn't say anything; merely gazed back at me before turning to close the door once more.
She then walked over to a chair I hadn't noticed on the other side of the bed. I also hadn't noticed the book in her hand until she struggled to sit down. I opened my mouth to speak, but the mere act of doing so had my throat protesting. Still, I was suspicious of her and scooted back a little, pondering over the location of my wand.
She opened the book and began to read it out loud, and I was taken aback to hear a favourite story from my childhood. I pondered how she had come to learn of it even as I surveyed the room, and I noted its uninspiring white and beige palette. Yet, the furniture gave off an air of luxury and craftsmanship. All the while, she carried on reading the children's story, giving the impression of ignoring me. I managed to prop myself up, and she paused for a moment to watch me. Sadness and curiosity on her face.
"If you need water, it is on the bedside table. There is also a Pain-Relief Potion if you need it," she said, then went back to reading. I turned to the bedside table on the left, having to turn my upper body to do it. My neck didn't want to move very much at all, and the act of sitting up had caused me to feel dizzy, but I didn't feel safe or comfortable here. I grabbed the Pain-Relief Potion, but my hands were shaking too much for me to open it.
"Can you pass it here, or should I come get it?" she inquired, sounding longsuffering. I took it and carefully passed it to her. "Thank you," she said, taking it with a bit of relief. "You have no idea how hard it is to get back up these days," she said, surprising me. I had assumed her earlier tone was due to her reluctance to be burdened with my care. She opened it and handed it back. I had to dribble bits of it into my mouth because I couldn't tilt my head, but once it was done, the pain backed off a lot. I remembered spotting a notebook and what I presumed was a Muggle writing instrument sitting where the water was. However thirsty I was, I had no intention of letting her witness me make a mess of myself.
I picked up the notebook and the writing instrument and wrote, 'Who knocked you up, Granger?' I was certain I should have seen that at school this year, even if I had been busy. She took it and read it, but then merely shook her head and went back to reading to me. I speculated if it was Potter or the Weasel. The Weasel was my bet. Perhaps he had finally come to his senses and seen what was right in front of him without being a pussy about it. I felt a wave of jealousy at that and gripped the blankets hard with my fists. She never noticed a thing; merely kept reading about Little Fire and his quest.
I picked the notebook and wooden writing instrument back up and wrote, 'Where am I?'. I had to nudge the book she was reading with the notebook to draw her attention. She took it and read it again.
"My parents house. Snape brought you here," she told me. My eyes widened at that, and then I got a few flashes of my final moments at Malfoy Manor, but I quickly shoved them away. Just that was enough for me to know I didn't need to relive that horror now. Being in a Muggle home was horror enough, in my opinion. I had no idea what this world contained or how primitive it would be compared to my own. The bedroom appeared perfectly normal, all except for the weird light fixture in the ceiling, but outside of this room was a complete mystery to me, one I had never desired to unravel.
'Is he still here?' I wrote.
"No, and I have no idea if he will be back. He said he would try, but that…" She trailed off with a frown, shook her head, and then went back to reading. I was growing bloody irritated with the absence of concrete explanations, but I supposed there were worse things to listen to than her voice. Even with the pregnant belly, she was beautiful. 'The Weasel was bloody lucky', I thought. I lay there, half listening to her voice while also wishing to grasp what the hell was going on. Suddenly, she gave a little hiss of pain and pushed her hand down hard over a rib. "He's kicking hard," she told me when our eyes met.
I picked the notebook back up and wrote, 'Where is the Weasel?' She took it and smiled, which surprised me. Then she regarded me with a hint of confusion.
"Ron is still at school. Why?" And then her pretty brown eyes widened as she suddenly grasped my implication. "Honestly!" she said with exasperation. "I do wish people would think I am capable of a little more imagination than just Harry and Ron." I grinned at her; she sounded so indignant that people wouldn't consider her capable of sleeping around. It was entirely contrary to what any other witch would want people to believe, regardless of its veracity.
'Large harem of wizards keeping you satisfied, Granger?' I queried and was surprised that I was teasing her this way. I was even more surprised when she laughed at the written message.
"Absolutely," she told me with mischief in her eyes. I hadn't known she possessed a sense of humour. I don't know why, but the glint in her eyes made me feel more at ease being here… with her. As if we weren't truly enemies, and I was safe in her presence. I scowled at the idiotic notion.
I took the notebook back and, with annoyance at myself, wrote, 'Potter's a lucky guy again, I see. Congratulations.' She took it and stared at the page for a moment, all amusement falling away. She shook her head, bit her lip, and then tossed both books on the bed. I then had to watch her struggle up from the chair.
She got up and left the room without another word, but I hadn't missed the shininess in her eyes before she left. I was confused; I had no idea why saying that would upset her. I picked up the book she was reading and noticed it bore an uncanny resemblance to my own copy. I opened the first page to observe something I didn't remember writing but was clearly in my handwriting. 'Aidan means little fire.''Why would I give her this? Why would I tell her that name?' None of this made any sense. But most of all, I didn't like that I had evidently upset her, which was strange. Granger had never been anything to me—nothing but a fantasy.
Later that night, I lay crying quietly. I had had plenty of time to remember everything that had happened, to remember my father's final minutes. I couldn't believe he was gone, and I was scared for my mother, who was stuck in what had once been our beautiful home with a monster keeping her captive. I didn't even care what had happened to me. It had felt sort of inevitable. I had one strange thought as my blood rushed out of me. It had been, 'No, this is worse than what Potter had done,' but I barely remembered that stupid duel for some reason. I had managed to roll to my side, and I was quietly sobbing into the pillow when the door opened with a faint sound. I froze, not wanting whoever it was to realise I was awake. I felt the bed depress, and then an arm came around me. I also felt a swollen belly press up against me. I grunted a question because I still couldn't speak.
"Shhh, go to sleep. You are safe," she said gently into the darkened room. I attempted to protest again, and she sighed but didn't say anything; she merely began to stroke my hair, which I really liked. I attempted to speak, but barely a croak came out, and it burned like fire.
"Don't talk. Snape said you need to let your voice rest so you don't damage the vocal cords," she told me. I made a sound that I hoped sounded like a question, despite the pain.
"Why am I doing this?" she queried in a hushed tone. I shifted my head slightly down the pillow, indicating my affirmation. "Everybody deserves kindness at times, Draco." I had never heard her say my name before. It was nice; she was nice, but I didn't understand why she and her family were being nice to me. I was utterly convinced that if our roles were reversed, my family would never exhibit such compassion towards her, and I wasn't even certain if I myself would.
I couldn't focus on that for long, however. My grief for my father and fear for my mother screamed back to life, and I turned my head back into the pillow and cried. She moved as close as she could and held me tightly while whispering that I was safe now. When I had embarrassed myself enough, I rolled over carefully to face her. Her eyes were shut, but I was certain she was awake. After enduring several minutes of my gaze, she opened her eyes and murmured, "What?"
I waved my hand to encompass the two of us and the room, and hoped she understood my question. She grinned at me in the dark.
"I thought we had already established that I have a haram of wizards. While you are in a weakened state and trapped in my home, I thought I would recruit you. I really do not have enough Slytherins and no Death Eaters," she said with absolute seriousness, making my eyes google at her even as I became strangely turned on. She giggled at my reaction, and I realised the potions I had been taking had obviously been affecting my brain because she was undeniably teasing me. Nevertheless, it was weird that she felt comfortable being around me, especially in her condition.
I opened my eyes to a man I had seen a few times now leaning over me, checking the 'stitches' in my neck, as I had been told they were termed. The man, who bore a striking resemblance to Granger, appeared to constantly frown at me. Although his words were always kind enough, there was an undercurrent of disapproval, and I suspected dislike.
"This is looking better," the man commented, noticing my eyes open. "No infection that I can see, and the bleeding has finally stopped. Are you still in pain?" I didn't want to admit any weakness to this Muggle man whom I neither knew nor trusted, so I didn't respond at all. "Well, if you need it, the potions your friend left are on the bedside table." I simply continued to regard him with distrust.
I still hadn't the foggiest idea where I was, beyond the Muggle home of the Granger family, and I couldn't fathom what was prompting them to help me. I also didn't understand why Sev would choose to include these Muggles in our problems, and it didn't help that I hadn't seen my godfather since the night he had completed my task. A task I had proven too cowardly to complete myself. I wished I could go home, but I was aware it was no longer an option. My home was no longer safe and hadn't been in a long time. I was cognizant that my home was no longer even really mine; it belonged to the monster now.
I felt a surge of anger, fear, and sadness. My Occlumency training appeared to have abandoned me completely at the moment, and I assumed it was because of the Pain-Relief Potions. I wanted to get away from this place, from these people, from this world. I wanted to go somewhere where I could be happy, where I could be free, where I could be with my family. But the harsh reality was that it was now an impossibility. I was never going to lay eyes on my father again, and I had no idea if I would ever encounter my mother again either. I was acutely aware I was trapped in this nightmare, with no way out.
The door opened with a soft click, and Hermione Granger stepped into the room, wearing a man's shirt over her large belly and pants that were tight to the skin of her legs. The sight made me uncomfortable, and I turned my head away. I was angry at myself for my depravity. I shouldn't have found her attractive in the first place, as I had been telling myself since third year, but now it was even more inappropriate.
"He will live," her father said in a dry tone that I thought was in poor taste.
"Glad to hear it," she said, and there was genuine relief in her voice that confused me again and made me suspicious of her reasons. She walked around the bed, her brown eyes shining with concern and affection. I scowled as she gave me a gentle smile. I turned my head forward to gaze at what I could observe of the scenery out the window instead.
"Not swimming today?" her father inquired of her, and she blushed.
"Absolutely not," she said, and then waved her hand dismissively. I wished I wasn't noticing all her gestures, even out of the corner of my eye. She had a way of moving that was graceful and captivating.
"Where is your little friend today?" he inquired.
"I think he was trying to convince mum to let him pack the library," she replied.
"He offered to help me with the study, but I have a few things I want to go through first. I don't know if I feel comfortable letting…" he trailed off, and they both fell silent for a moment. I wondered what he had been on the verge of saying. I brooded over if they were deliberately concealing things from me.
"He really does like to be useful," she told her father in a tone I didn't understand.
"Don't stay up here too long. It's not good for you to be cooped up," he said, as if reminding her after many reminders.
She sighed but said, "I won't." Neither of us believed her, but her father left. She had a notebook in her hand, but today she read quietly to herself. Without realising it, my head turned to watch her. Even at school, watching her face had interested me. She always had an air of serenity on her face when she read, which appeared to be in sharp contrast to her intense demeanour in class. I was drawn to the intensity too, but the serenity was truly beautiful to watch. She rubbed her large stomach a lot and moved about as if she were uncomfortable. Other times she would push down firmly over her ribs as if she could remove the foot or whatever it was that was pushing hard against them. When I realised I had been staring at her for a long time again, I turned back to the window in frustration.
I wanted to be able to question her again as to why she was being kind to me. I wanted a real explanation, not merely to be placated with kind but undoubtedly insincere words. Angrily, I recognised that was uncharitable; I could tell she wasn't insincere, but not understanding why was confusing and adding to my irritation.
Suddenly she flung the notebook down on the bed next to me and exclaimed, "By Merlin, it is hot!"
She gathered her curly hair up into her hand, holding it off her neck like a ponytail. I was irked that I was jolted into observing her again, but the sight of her neck had me transfixed. Her skin was smooth and pale, marked only by a single freckle at the base of her hairline behind her ear. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on her neck, causing a few strands of her brown hair to stick to it.
She dropped the lovely curls again and struggled to stand up. When she was on her feet, she went to the window, where a slight breeze was attempting unsuccessfully to cool the room. She stood in front of it and plucked the shirt back and forth, as if to fan her body with it.
Inappropriately, from this angle, I got a generous view of some impressive cleavage, and I was instantly hard. Her breasts were full and round, barely contained by the thin lace of her bra. I dove for the notebook I had been using on the side table and wrote two words.
Get out!
I flung it to the end of the bed, and she cast a glance at it, her brow furrowing, before a hurt expression crossed her face. I regretted that, but I refused to embarrass myself in front of her. She didn't look at me; she simply nodded and left the room, leaving her notebook behind. I picked it up to examine its contents and was unsurprised to find it full of spells she had been studying that she had made copious notes on. Her handwriting was neat and elegant while being far from the style I had been taught; with extra little notes she had added later in the margins. Obviously, she had no intention of letting motherhood slow her down in her pursuit of knowledge.
The first few pages were dedicated to the Obliviation spell, and then there were others such as Salvio Hexia, Fianto Duri, and Protego Totalum, to name a few. They were all N.E.W.T.-level spells, and I was confident that I could master them with enough study and practice. But then I encountered a spell that I had never heard of before. It was a type of soul magic, a forbidden subject at Hogwarts. I found myself questioning how Granger had come across it. It bore the name 'The Fidelius Charm', and even a brief glance at her written words showed me it was immensely complex and multifaceted.
I read a bit further and decided it would indeed be a potent charm if only one had the fortitude to allow a secret to be held within the soul. The idea of doing so was not something anyone would take lightly, and I could understand why it wasn't one that was used regularly. As I thought about soul magic, a fleeting memory of the Room of Requirement crossed my mind, but it vanished before I could catch it.
That night, when the house was silent, I got up, intending to leave. I didn't have a destination in mind, but I needed to be somewhere I felt safe on my own terms. I had already tucked the Pain-Relief Potions into my pockets and was merely finalising the task of fastening my shoes when Jomny popped into the room. I had no idea how he had found me, but I was glad he had. Then I vaguely recalled freeing him, but it was as if I were peering through a haze, and I couldn't understand why my memories were so fuzzy. I remembered the Dark Lord saying I had used a potion to remove my memories, but I had no idea what that would be or why it would make so many of my memories confusing.
"My Lord Draco," he said with a bow, and I felt a pang of loneliness. Jomny had been my first friend as a child, and I had thought we would be together for my entire life. We had shared secrets, laughter, and adventures. His acknowledgement now meant he was truly no longer mine.
"I…" I went to say, then winced and held my sore throat while no sound came forth.
"I have a letter for you," he told me, holding out a letter that I could discern was addressed to him in my handwriting. The parchment was still new, but the seal was broken. The basic gist was that if Hermione Granger and I were ever in Hogwarts at the same time, I was to go to a certain room. Apparently, memories waited for me there. I wanted my memories back, but I wasn't certain why he was showing it to me now if I had written for both Granger and me to be there. "Will you allow Jomny to take you?" he queried, watching my confusion. His large eyes were full of emotion, but I couldn't read them. I wasn't certain how he thought we could get into Hogwarts, but I was willing to attempt anything now merely so I didn't have to be here.
I nodded, and he popped us away. We landed outside of the shrieking shack, a dilapidated building that appeared on the verge of collapse. I grimaced as I surveyed the surroundings through the dark night. The moonlight cast a pale glow over the scene, rendering it even more eerie and desolate than normal. I was tempted to turn towards the lights of Hogsmeade, which were visible as a twinkling beacon not far off, offering a promise of warmth and safety. But I was aware that would be incredibly foolish, so I followed my old friend towards a wall.
He stepped through it as if it were nothing, so I decided it was safe to follow. The inside was incredibly barren. The house was barely more than a structure that appeared as if it had never been completed, but that had been decades ago, at least. There was little furniture and less decoration—no sign of life. Only dust, cobwebs, and broken windows that were boarded up from the outside.
He led me to a door that opened into a pitch-black tunnel, and I frowned because I hadn't been able to find my wand at the Grangers. How was I supposed to navigate where I was going? Jomny took care of the problem and lit the way with his own magic. A ball of light appeared in his hand, illuminating the narrow passage ahead of us. Oddly, I experienced a sense of déjà vu upon observing the dirt floor and root-covered ceiling of the low tunnel. It reminded me of something, but I couldn't quite place it.
Jomny extinguished the light again when we reached what I at first thought was a small cave entrance. He darted out, and I followed carefully to observe his little hand with its long fingers resting on the trunk of the Whomping Willow. The tree was strangely motionless, but I still darted out from under it quickly to avoid the branches if they were to suddenly wake from their unusual stillness. I had heard stories about this tree and how it could lash out at anyone who came near it, and most talked about was the time the Weasel and Potter had flown here in some kind of Muggle vehicle that supposedly caused damage to this tree but was also destroyed as well.
"Jomny will hide you now, Lord Draco," he told me in a low voice. I frowned at the title but nodded. I found it absolutely detestable, not having the slightest clue where my wand was. However, I recalled that I had seen a whole hat box full of them in the Room of Requirement earlier in the previous school year.
Unlike the spell I would have used, there was almost no feeling to his invisibility spell. His also didn't work quite as well. It appeared as if I blended into the scenery rather than being inviable. We walked quietly towards the castle and saw Hagrid sitting on his front step. He was patting his dog but was otherwise watching the sky in sadness. Guilt touched me. I assumed his sadness was because of Dumbledore's death, but maybe there were other reasons too.
When we got into the school, it was quieter and stiller than I had ever seen it. I had never remained here over any holiday period, but I had to assume that even then, it wasn't like this. This had a heaviness to it that was depressing. As if the building itself were in mourning. We reached the room Jomny led me to without incident, and the only light we had seen came from under the door to the caretaker's office, but even that was silent.
I expected Jomny to open the door, but he merely stood there and gazed at me expectantly. I frowned but moved forward to swing open the door. From the doorway, my first impression was that the room was strange. I could discern runes glowing softly on the walls and even the ceiling, forming intricate patterns and symbols. The room itself was bright and slightly warm, without an obvious light source or fire. It was a bare stone room otherwise, with absolutely nothing inside of it. No furniture, no other decorations, no windows. I glanced down at Jomny, questioning if this was indeed the room I had written of. As if reading my mind, he nodded.
I stepped inside, but he didn't follow. The door then appeared to shut on its own accord behind me with a soft click. I frowned, but then my eyes widened as memories poured back into my mind. I spun around, searching for everything that should have been here. In every inch of the room, I could perceive my memories as if they were all unfolding simultaneously and moving in images before my eyes. Somehow, I ended up on the floor, holding my head. A headache had formed from the mass of information that had bombarded me. Everything I had been confused about these past few days abruptly made so much sense, and the very place I had been so eager to escape from, I desperately wanted to return to.
However, before I could do that, I had to go retrieve my diary from the seventh floor. I waited impatiently for the half hour to pass, counting the seconds in my head. As soon as the door clicked to signal that I could open it, I rushed over to it, adrenaline pumping through me. Jomny was waiting against the wall, and when he lifted his gaze to meet mine, it was evident he was nervous and alert. However, I immediately pointed towards the ceiling and held up seven fingers.
"It isn't safe to be here," he whispered.
'Please,' I mouthed. He appeared anxious, but nodded and popped us up there. When I had the door to the RoR open, I made certain to drag Jomny through with me so he wasn't trapped out in the hallway again. Fully aware of my destination, I went straight to my diary and the book I had always intended to take with me but continually became too distracted to place it in my bag until it had become too late.
Then I decided to go further into the room, where the Vanishing Cabinet was still sitting. It was too dangerous to be left in working order. I searched around for a while, attempting to find something I could use to destroy it, when I came across an old axe that was rusty and blunt but impressively heavy. I presumed it must have belonged to a previous ground's keeper at some stage. Still, brute force should still do damage, I decided.
I retraced my steps, returning to where the Vanishing Cabinet stood, appearing innocent and harmless. Yet I was aware of its danger to the school better than anyone. Gripping the axe, I swung with all my might, the blade connecting with the cabinet's side. The impact reverberated through the room. Again and again, I struck, my breath becoming ragged. I spent a good amount of time repeatedly bashing at the old cabinet. It was wonderfully cathartic, as I silently screamed all my fury and grief at it as if it were the Dark Lord himself. Even the magic couldn't hold it together under the continued assault. The wood splintered, sending shards in all directions. Pieces of wood and small pieces of metal flew everywhere until nothing was left but a pile of rubble on the floor. I turned to find Jomny watching me, and he gave me an approving smile when I dropped the axe on top of the ruins of the Vanishing Cabinet. And I wiped the tears from my face.
"Can Jomny return you to your Lady now?" he inquired hopefully, his eyes sparkling with happiness. I nodded eagerly. He popped me down to the ground floor, and I made my way outside. He then popped me to the Whomping Willow again, where he sent a spell at the same spot he had touched less than an hour ago to make the branches stop moving again. We walked quickly through the tunnel and shack, where he removed the magical portal from the wall. Once we were off Hogwarts grounds, he wasted no time popping me back into the room where this night had its inception. He opened the door and took me down a hallway and then around a corner and pointed. "Her parent's room is through those double doors. Your Lady's is at the end of the hall." I nodded my thanks, and he popped away.
I walked as quietly as I could down the hallway, but there was the occasional squeak of the floorboards, and I heard Mr. Granger stop snoring for a few long seconds before resuming. At least I understood the barely hidden dislike he had for me now, I thought with a smirk. 'I did impregnate his daughter after all', I thought, and I was aware it was smug and not at all remorseful.
I reached her door, opened it silently, and stepped in. When I turned, her room horrified me. I was cognizant of her love of books, but this was beyond any image I had conceived of her room. Books of all shapes, sizes, and genres were stacked on every available surface, creating towers that reached the ceiling. She had books on her desk, on her nightstand, on her dresser, on her shelves, and even on the floor.
There were mementos from her childhood too, but they were hard to spot among the organised chaos of books. There was a teddy bear sitting on the bottom corner of her bed. There was a framed photo of her family on her dresser, smiling and happy. An urn with a cat paw and the name Crookshanks was sitting with it.
There was a collage of pictures on her wall, showing her with Potter, the Weasel, and a lot more Weasleys. There was even a photo of Sirius Black, the Werewolf/Professor Lupin, and Professor Dumbledore with her in it. It gave the impression that the trio of elder wizards were laughing at something at her expense while she rolled her eyes and appeared indulgent. There were more pictures of herself with her parents that were in the Muggle style but still conveyed family trips or merely enjoyable moments here in her home.
There was a collection of trophies and medals on her shelf, displaying her achievements, predominantly from her younger years. Most of them were for academic excellence, but some were for swimming too.
Her bed was covered with a soft quilt, with patches of different fabrics and colours. Her pillows were fluffy and inviting, perfect for curling up with a good book, I guessed. Her window was adorned with lace curtains that danced in the breeze of the night. I could understand why she liked this room, but I wasn't used to anything so crowded.
I also discovered why I had not known where my wand was. It was sitting on her bedside table next to a glass of water. I picked it up and slipped it in a pocket, speculating if she also had my holster somewhere.
I approached her sleeping form and tapped her shoulder, hoping not to scare her. It didn't work; she bolted up and pulled her wand from under her pillow, pointing it at my face instantly. The action made me grin, and she frowned at me.
"Draco?" she whispered in sleepy confusion, her voice barely audible in the dark room. She blinked her eyes several times and peered around as if she were attempting to understand what was happening. "Are you alright?" she whispered again, concern evident in her tone. I nodded but picked up her free hand, imploring her to follow me. She slipped out of bed, and I felt a surge of heat course through my body as I saw what she was wearing. A soft, silky cream night gown that barely reached her thighs and hugged tightly to her belly. Now it became clear why she never appeared to be embarrassed to be around me in skimpy clothing, and right now I was glad because I found her fucking hot. We tiptoed back down the hallway, and she held her wand in her hand the whole way.
"Is everything alright?" she inquired again, her voice laced with worry, as we stepped inside the dimly lit room. She scanned the surroundings for any sign of danger, but there was none. I shut the door and then pulled her to a stop. She turned back to me with a curious expression, her brown eyes shining in the faint light. I took her face into my hands and kissed her softly, hoping she could feel my apology. She kissed me back but was frowning when I pulled back. She then shook her head and took a step back, confusing me.
"I was joking about the harem, Draco," she said, and I laughed despite the pain in my throat. I had almost forgotten about that silly remark she made a couple days ago. She turned and got a Pain-Relief Potion for me from the bedside table, which I took gratefully. It had been hours, and I was very sore. "I didn't mean to make you laugh. I know you never took that seriously, but I… You must understand, Draco. I am in love with the father of my baby and will not cheat on him." I couldn't help it. I silently laughed again and then groaned in pain.
"This isn't funny. You may not know what is going on here, and you may be feeling sorry for yourself and think you can…" I stopped her mid-sentence as I pulled her towards me and kissed her again, feeling her soft lips and warm breath. But she drew back and slapped me hard, making a loud sound that echoed in the room, surprising us both.
I grimaced in pain that the slap had reverberated through my throat as I leaned back against the door and regarded her in her anger. Her eyes were blazing, her cheeks were flushed, and her chest was heaving. It was frustrating that I couldn't tell her I remembered everything, but I had always found her incredibly sexy when angry, and the fact that she didn't want to cheat on me with me was downright hilarious.
'Jomny,' I mouthed at her, and she tilted her head in confusion, still angry. I made another attempt, but her frown only deepened. I went over to the notebook and wrote it instead.
"Jomny?" she queried me, and the little Elf popped into the room, making me grin when she was startled.
"Yes, My Lady?" he responded.
"I don't know. Draco wanted you," she told him, and they both turned their gazes towards me.
'Can you explain?' I wrote. Instantly, his eyes lit with understanding, and he turned to tell her of our adventure tonight. I took the moment to take the extra Pain-Relief Potions, my dairy, and the book out of my expanded pocket and put my wand down on top of them. I also slipped my shoes back off.
"Well, I'm an idiot," she muttered, followed by a laugh. She cast her gaze across the room at me with a mixture of amusement and love, yet I could also discern the sadness in her face. She bit her lip like I loved her to do, adding to my desire for her. Jomny popped back out.
'Can I kiss you now, without further violence?' I wrote. She laughed again. She then turned to lock the door and cast a spell.
"I have missed you," she told me, still over by the door. Her voice was soft and trembling. I wished I could say the same, and on one level, I had; I had missed her so much from the moment I remembered her that it was almost a physical pain, especially combined with how I felt before I took the Forgetting Potion. However, before I got my memories back, there had only been confusion and fear.
I held my arms open to her and hoped she would understand. She moved slowly as if she still didn't trust this, but she sank against me with a relieved sigh when I wrapped them around her. I heard her drop her wand on the bedside table behind me, and we simply held onto each other, standing there in the darkened room for a few minutes before she pulled back and her gaze met mine. Tears were in her eyes, shining like stars in the dim light.
"I have been so scared for you. It took days for the bleeding to stop, and even… even Snape," she said, and she couldn't hide the contempt in her tone. "He didn't know why you were sleeping so long. He had theories, of course, but nothing definitive. He said you are always going to have the scar," she said, touching my throat gently with her fingertips. I was aware the bruise there was still angry, and the stitches and cut appeared livid and ugly. A reminder of how perilously close I had come to death—how close I had come to losing her. But I didn't care about the scar, what Severus said, or anything else that wasn't about us in this moment. All I cared about was her and our son.
'I'm sorry,' I mouthed to her. She shook her head.
"This is not something you need to apologise for. You did nothing wrong," she asserted with conviction. I wished I could believe her. The haunting memory of my father's final moments was still fresh in my mind, and I thought that if only I had done what I had been ordered, he would still be here.
"Hey?" she said, drawing my gaze back to her. "Nothing that happened that night was your fault," she said even more forcefully, and that was all it required for me to realise she was aware. My eyes became shiny with tears, but I didn't feel like crying now. Now I merely wanted to hold her and feel alive again. I leaned down to kiss her once more, and she met me with equal force.
I pulled the too-tight nightgown off over her head and then helped her onto the bed. I smirked when I noticed she was wearing the Slytherin knickers again. The darkness made it impossible to discern the colour, but the little snake, with its blatant position, was hard to mistake. I pulled them down her legs and then leaned in to lick up her centre. She gasped in surprise but then hummed in pleasure.
"You better be planning on getting naked too," she said with a lot of amusement. I was, but I wanted to enjoy her first.
I knelt and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed so I could tongue her as much as I wanted until she was writhing in pleasure. She tasted even better than I remembered. I crawled up onto the bed beside her and tossed my shirt off and onto the floor. She reached over and ran her hands down my chest as if she needed to remind herself what I felt like. I understood the feeling.
I took her breasts in my hands and massaged them both, attempting to relearn the feel of them. I lowered myself back down and kissed her, delving my tongue into her mouth, and once again she met me in the dance. When we both needed breath, I moved over to her chin and down her neck and shoulder until I got to her breasts, which I loved thoroughly with my mouth until she was moaning noisily again. I really hoped the spell she put up was the silencing one, or we were going to have some very irate visitors soon, and I wasn't certain I would even be able to stop then.
I moved my hand back down to her pussy and she was dripping wet. She cried out loudly when I merely skimmed the nub, and that made me smile against her nipple. I leaned up and kissed her lips again in approval, and plunged my fingers into her at the same time as my tongue sank into her mouth. She was crying out loudly into my mouth, but I had no intention of stopping until she orgasmed. It didn't take long, and then, while she was getting her breath back, I took my pants off.
My cock was embarrassing in its hardness and enthusiasm. A bead of cum was sitting on the tip and rolled down even as she watched me expectantly. I moved between her legs and rubbed myself against her, waiting for her to meet my eyes once more. She made a hissing noise at the contact, and her eyes did meet mine then. She gazed at me with her bottom lip bitten between her teeth again. I simply kept rubbing up and down.
'You want me?' I mouthed cockily while in awe that this was real. That I could truly touch her in such a manner, as if my recollections hadn't quite solidified that fact yet.
"Always," she replied at once, making me smirk at her in satisfaction, feeling powerful and relieved all at once. I shoved into her, and she gasped and threw her arms around me, pulling herself up a bit. I didn't care about the awkward angle caused by her belly; I just needed to fuck her so badly that I pounded into her until she let go and fell back on the bed and then began to lift her hips to meet me pound for pound. The way she was moving made interesting things happen to her belly, and her breasts swaying was beautiful to observe. I moaned as I came, invoking her name silently and loving that she said mine repeatedly as her pussy gripped me in repeated tight waves.
'I love you,' I mouthed to her when we were both spent, and I was still holding myself over her, so I didn't have to withdraw. I was aware I would have to disengage in a minute, but the very thought of taking my cock out of her for even a minute felt so wrong.
"I love you too," she uttered, and then began to weep. Realising my time had come before I wanted it to, I pulled out and then climbed onto the bed and dragged her back up with me. I wasn't certain what had caused the tears this time, but there was so much happening that I completely understood. I spooned her, and my cock was already hard against her arse.
"Please," she implored through her tears, and I hadn't the faintest idea what she desired. "I need to feel you," she whispered through desperate tears. She lifted her own leg and reached for me from between them. Not requiring a second invitation, I slid back inside, and my eyes rolled back into my head merely to be home again. I moved gently, and she sighed.
"I have been so scared for you; I was terrified that I was going to lose you. And this time would have been worse than the last because you were right here in front of me. The bleeding wouldn't stop for days, and I was scared that you…" She turned her head into her pillow and cried for a minute even as I continued to move slowly. She turned her head again, attempting to cast a glance over her shoulder at me.
"I have felt like huge pieces of me have been missing. Will you give them back to me?" she murmured, sounding as if I had broken her heart. That had never been my intention, but I was painfully aware I had also broken my own when I left her. I kissed her neck and then picked up speed a little, my hand rubbing over her stomach.
'My son is in there', I marvelled. Logically, I had already remembered, but I was so engrossed in her that it hadn't truly registered again until this very moment. 'My little fire dragon', I mused, and then pondered if my presence here meant we could keep him. Could I keep her? Could I have what I wanted before I left Hogwarts that night? All these questions filtered through my mind, and then I dismissed them to ponder upon later. Now I had loving to do. I had to unbreak both our hearts and hope I never had to break them again.
Hermione's Point of View
The next morning, we were both startled out of sleep by the rattle of the doorknob.
"Honey, have you seen Hermione?" We heard distantly coming from further down the hall and footsteps coming closer. A growl sounded, and then a fist hit the door with force.
"I will kill you, you little bastard! Hermione, get out here now!" My dad roared, his voice echoing through the house and making me wince. I felt Draco's arms tighten around me as we clung to each other in concern and embarrassment.
"Daniel!" My mum gasped, and then we could hear her trying to drag him away from the door and whispering furiously at him.
"Of course, I mean it," he snapped back at her, his anger palpable. Draco gave a little scoff that made me look at him with wide, worried eyes. More whispering could be heard.
"I'll just smack him around a little," my dad reasoned to his wife, as if that would solve anything. Draco laughed silently and then grabbed at his throat. Still, I was glad my silencing spell was still blocking sound from this side. He kissed me on the forehead in reassurance and amusement.
"I had meant to go back to my room," I told Draco as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I sighed at having caused my parents' distress.
Draco wrote quickly, 'Are you embarrassed to be here with me?' then slid over with the notebook and began to kiss my neck. I shook my head at once, feeling his warm breath on my skin, and it made me shiver.
"No. I just really would have preferred not to upset them," I said, and we could still hear soft arguing in the hallway.
"She is not to step foot in that room again!" we heard my dad say loudly. Draco grinned and winked at me; I rolled my eyes. Another minute passed, and then we heard them both walk away.
"So?" I asked, looking at him with amusement. "Want to go meet my parents?" Draco tried to laugh again, but once again it was silent. He leaned closer and kissed me thoroughly.
'We better get dressed first. Meet you in the hallway in a few minutes?' He wrote and didn't look concerned at all. I nodded and then struggled to get the nightgown back on. Draco had to help me get the knickers back on, which had him grinning even more.
Less than ten minutes later, we walked downstairs hand in hand, and I was nervous. We entered the dining room, where my parents were sitting at the table, having breakfast. The smell of toast and coffee filled the air, but I barely noticed it.
I cleared my throat and said, "Ah, mum, dad." I wanted to sound confident, but my voice was shaky. I straightened my back and stood tall with determination. "This is Draco Malfoy, my boyfriend," I said, but almost frowned at the inadequacy of the term. "Draco, this is Daniel," I said, pointing at my dad, who was scowling at us with a dark expression. "And Emma," I said, pointing at my mum, who was blushing a little but smiled politely at Draco.
"Hello, Draco," she said with a kind smile. He gave a bow, looking charming and elegant, but I scoffed a laugh in surprise, and he met my eyes in confusion when he straightened once again. My dad stood suddenly, scraping the chair on the floor loudly.
"You come with me," he said, pointing at Draco with a stern finger. Draco nodded and went to walk away, but I gripped his hand tightly, stopping him.
"Daddy," I said in a pleading voice, drawing my dad's attention, and his face softened a bit at the name. "I love him. He is important to me; please try to accept him." I looked into his brown eyes, hoping to see some sign of understanding, but he didn't respond. His eyes shift back to Draco with a cold expression. Draco turned towards me and took my face between his hands. Looking into my eyes, he shook his head and then kissed my cheek gently, giving me a reassuring smile. I watched them then with worry as they walked away and disappeared down the hallway. I heard the door to my dad's office open and close, and then silence.
"Come sit, sweetheart. I'm sure everything will be alright," my mum said in a soothing voice. Jomny popped into the room just then, and my mum gave a little squeak of sound but was otherwise getting used to the House Elf.
"I have breakfast for you, My Lady. One choc-chip pancake, some bacon, and mixed fruit," he told me proudly, putting a plate and bowl down in front of me. He also set out a glass of water. I sighed, knowing it was stupid to continue to stand here.
"Thank you, Jomny," I said as I sat. My mum was reading what looked like papers to do with selling the dentist practice.
"Are you both going to the office today?" I asked her as I speared some kiwi fruit with my fork.
"We were going to, and your dad still is, but I pulled in a favour from Val; you remember Val?" she asked me. I nodded. Val was a friend of my mum from their university days, and she worked as an otolaryngologist. "I thought I would take Draco to see her. I know that Mr. Snape said he should be fine, but it never hurts to get a professional's opinion," she explained.
"I agree," I said, and I frowned once again to think of Snape. Right now, I doubted everything that man had ever said.
"Would you like to come?" she asked me.
"I would love to, but I don't think I would like being stuck in a hospital for hours. Also, I wouldn't be able to be with Draco while he has the tests done," I said and shook my head.
"You're right," she allowed, and she petted my stomach gently with a soft smile. I smiled shyly back at her. "No more silliness about giving this little one away?" she asked knowingly, but I frowned. Draco and I hadn't exactly gotten around to talking about the future, and my immediate plans hadn't changed. "That young man loves you, Hermione. I could see it in his eyes as he stood here this morning. He isn't going to abandon you," she told me, clearly misunderstanding my frown. I felt guilty because she didn't know that it was going to be the other way around.
"Promise me you won't leave him by himself at the hospital," I begged her. "He is good at looking self-assured, but he is uncomfortable in the non-magical world. He wasn't raised to ever be a part of it. You might also have to remind him to keep his wand put away," I told her.
"Okay, sweetheart," she agreed easily.
My dad and Draco came back, but neither said a word. Draco kissed my cheek again and sat beside me. Jomny popped in and handed him his breakfast while my dad went back to his own and picked up a newspaper to start reading. My mum and I shared a look that conveyed that she was as clueless as I was.
Already a week had passed since I got home, and I couldn't believe how much of a relief it was to be here. The house felt like a comfort after such a trying year, even with the shock of what had happened to Draco. When I hadn't been with him, I either studied while wandering from room to room with restless legs or swam when walking was not enough. I had taken two doses of the Pregnancy-Advancing Potion since I got home and only had two left. I felt huge and uncomfortable, but also happier than I imagined. Sometimes, I still found it hard to believe that there was a tiny human growing inside me—a part of him and me.
The day was hot again, and the house was quiet, with my dad out closing down the dental practice and Draco reluctantly at the hospital with my mum. It had only been years of good manners bred into him that forced him not to be rude to my mum. Jomny was happily packing up the parts of the house that my parents had said he could do.
I was wandering the house again, even as I ate a bowl of chocolate ice cream with cut-up pieces of strawberries, when there was a knock at the door. Because of the heat, I was walking around in a singlet top of my mums and leggings.
I walked into the sunroom and placed the bowl down on the table, knowing Jomny would already be at the door, so I stood and listened to see if I could hear anything. I was surprised when I heard heavy, uneven footfalls coming down from the front entrance. I looked over and smiled as I saw Alastor Moody. He came 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, but it softened as he took in my happy appearance.
"Mr. Moody, it is so good to see you again," I said, waddling over to kiss his scared cheek. He gave a strange but pleased-sounding grunt.
"That settles that, then," he said. "How are you holding up, Granger?" he asked, taking my arm and leading me to the table. I sat down with relief, and he pulled up a chair next to me, making it creak under his weight. He slipped the wand he was holding under the table out of sight, but I knew it would still be out. 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 sitting inelegantly around my thigh in a garter. I was pregnant, not stupid.
"Hot," I answered with a grin. He nodded in agreement.
"Nice room," he commented, but looked around, scanning the room 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.
I had always adored the sunroom. It was a place of happiness and comfort, a cosy nook where my family could snuggle up with a book or play games and enjoy the sun's warmth. It was roomy and bright, with large windows on three sides that gave a panoramic view of the garden and pool. The walls were painted a sunny yellow, and the furniture was cosy and welcoming. 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. Sadly, most of that was being packed away for the move.
"With everything going on, I persuaded my parents that it would be safer if they moved to Australia," I explained, noticing his curious look. His one good eyebrow rose.
"Are you going with them?" he asked.
"No," I answered at once, with a touch of sadness. He nodded as if he expected that. Manners getting the better of me, I asked, "Can I offer you anything?"
"No need for niceties, girl," he said, and eyed 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 laugh, patting my belly.
"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 even as I rubbed up and down on my belly, where Aiden was moving with discomfort.
"We're going to use Polyjuice Potion to make some decoys look like Potter and fly off in different directions on brooms," he explained.
"Hmmm," I said with a frown as I thought about that. He regarded me with a sharp but curious glance.
"Do you have a better idea?" 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 that spark of anger again. Reflecting on the situation, I used my spoon to idly trace patterns in the ice cream before lifting a little into my mouth and letting it melt on my tongue. As usual, Draco entered my thoughts, and a faint smile touched my lips. I thought of his reluctance to venture out into the Muggle world this morning and then remembered his birthday and how uncomfortable he had been then too. All at once, I knew what to do. I looked back over 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 gave a nod at his words.
"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 the 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 said with a frown. "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?" I really was intrigued, and sorry I couldn't be more help. 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, clearly having a flash of grief for his longtime friend. "He's supposed to be one of the guards for Harry, but he's not very reliable. He's always looking for a way to make a quick Galleon, even if it means stealing from his own side."
I felt a surge of anger at that. How could Professor Dumbledore trust someone like that with Harry's life? "That's outrageous! He should be kicked out of the Order! How can we count on him when things get dangerous?" I exclaimed.
Moody gave me a grim smile. "That's what I like about you, lass. You have a sense and understanding of justice and loyalty. You remind me of myself when I was younger." I smiled at him and then looked back down at the page with Professor Dumbledore's handwriting on it for a few long seconds, and melancholy descended on me.
"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, reigning in my grief.
"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 was pleased by the praise from both men. They were both incredible teachers, in my opinion. "I take it, not many people know about this?" He asked, gesturing to my belly.
"Nobody knows," I replied sadly, rubbing the mound once more. "It was safer for him this way." He looked off into the distance and gave a small nod.
"I suppose it is," he agreed, then added, "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 told him.
"Interesting to see a House Elf in a Muggle home," Moody commented. I just nodded at that with a small smile. "I'll see you around, Granger. Good luck with everything," he said with another rare smile as he got to his feet, ready to leave.
I nodded and said, "Thank you for coming."
He nodded again and said, "Remember, Granger. Constant vigilance!" Then he Disapparated and was gone.
I decided at once that I would tell Harry everything that was discussed with Moody in the letter I wrote. I knew how much my best friend hated being excluded from the decisions that affected him.
Author's notes: - If you haven't read 'Fate' by TheTrueSpartan, I highly recommend it. I am currently obsessed with this Ron Weasley FanFic.
ForsakenKalika: - As always, thank you for reading.
Rkook1210: - While normally I would agree with you, Snape has had no time to plan for what has happened. Thank you for reading.