Part III
The room was sweltering. Hermione constantly tugged at the neckline of her thick jumper. It was a cold trek out of the castle to Hogsmeade, now within a room in a little house out of town, she was being drowned in sweat.
"Godric. I can't stand it."
No. She couldn't do it. The jumper had to come off even if it ruffled up her smoothed curls.
"Relax. This is supposed to comfort you," Draco said. His hand rubbed up the length of her back that he knew was sore. Pregnancy was a pain in the back. Who knew? "It is a monumental thing, you know. The Board has allowed your parents to come close to the school to see you. You should be thrilled."
"I am." She sighed. "And grateful to your father. This is more than they thought possible. Me, as well. Muggles aren't allowed anywhere near this village or Hogwarts."
So little was known about what would happen with Hermione. A different law governed over her and her parents than the rest of the world. They were bound tight, controlled to a point of suffocation, all to prevent the exposure of magic.
It filled with her with rage to feel so powerless. The ethical wrongness of the laws that stole the rights from muggle parents was atrocious and outdated. It made her want to explode at every barrier in between her and the faces she needed to see.
Professor McGonagall was there, as Hermione's head of house and representative of the school, to discuss the situation with the Grangers. Small glasses were at the tip of her nose. She was lost in grading a parchment roll longer than her arm.
Draco and Hermione were near the door. He hugged her close to his chest.
"Anything to make this easier on you."
She smiled. What would she do without him?
Lost in a frenzy, for one. Still with that loathsome cockroach Ron, for another.
It was said that Ron and Draco dueled. There was no detention to prove it. Crabbe had whispered that it was merely an exchange of threats of which Draco assumed the higher ground with a more significant one. The wizard then made Crabbe and Goyle promise to not reveal it to Hermione. He did not want her to worry about her part in it.
Goyle held true to his promise; Draco was his best friend. Crabbe, on the other hand, was slowly showing he was a big softie. He once awoke her in class before Professor Trelawny saw and assigned her a detention of reading tea leaves or sorting crystal balls.
She kept the information to herself. There was no use in getting Crabbe in trouble with Draco over their schoolyard nonsense.
"An hour just doesn't seem fair," she whispered. "They are my parents."
His cheek rubbed against her fluffy curls. "You were lucky to get this much, Hermione."
"I know. I know."
"They'll be the first muggles to ever enter the town of Hogsmeade," he added further. "It took hours of negotiation to get this much."
It was success in the scheme of things. Even if it was small.
The Ministry was largely against muggles. They liked to keep them as misinformed as possible. It aided the divide between magical children and their non-magical parents which Hermione believed as a carefully calculated choice on the Ministry's part. There was more power in separation than unity.
So little information was supplied to her parents about their child that it was almost criminal.
"You know my parents had to write letters to every witch and wizard they knew just to get one shred of news," she snarled lightly.
"Why do you think my father fought so hard for this meeting? I told him just how important it was."
"And?" She asked.
"And what?"
She raised her brow. "Come on now. We both know you did something else to ensure it was done. What was it? Threaten to give the baby my last name?"
He scoffed. "No. Nothing like that."
She waited. Her eyes made it clear that she knew there was more to the statement.
"I merely implied that there would not be any meeting with them if you did not see your parents first."
"Brilliant."
That was bound to make things easy with his parents. What joy!
There were great pressures. Huge ones. Draco's parents, Lucius and Narcissa, the two most recognizable people in London, perhaps the whole country. They were well known socialites. Narcissa, a beautiful woman with a taste for fine art, fine dining, and inter-country relations. She has a list of close friends that are high ranked in other magical governments around the world.
Well-connected, beautiful, and talented. A tripe threat of a woman to rival as the witch attached to her son. It did not bode well for Hermione.
Then entered Lucius Malfoy: the business mogul. He was gifted a fabulous fortune from his parents from centuries of Malfoy earnings. It was to the point where it supported a Malfoy well without additional supplication from other sources. It was not enough for Draco's father. He set his sights higher. Much higher.
It did not take long for him to earn his seat on every board in England. He was a part of every aspect of wizard life.
Rumors, too, were a plentiful source of information. It was said, through the grapevines of gossip and behind-the-hand comments, that he was known within the muggle world. His presence there was hushed tight. Only a select few knew his name. What he did within the muggle world was not said. It was only the implication that his reach went very far indeed.
He knew how to sniff out a liar through a kilometer. Lucius would find them out the moment he laid eyes on them.
All in all, they were the worst people to have to impress.
Hermione fidgeted with the ends of her soft curls. They'd taken ages to get to lay just right now frizzed from the hasty removal on her outer layers.
Moisture gathered in her arm pits. They reeked of her anxiety.
"Where the bloody hell are they?" She groaned. Her parents were never late.
Professor McGonagall perked from her reading. She glanced at her wrist. "They'll be here soon, Miss Granger. Never fear. They will arrive."
Never fear. Never fear? Oh, there was fear!
What if they were upset with her? What if they hated her? What if all their hopes and dreams for their only child have burst up in flames because of one pathetic romp in a cupboard with a red-headed slob?
It did not matter. She had to see it through. Responsibility. Her actions led her to the moment. There was no other option.
"Now, come sit. They will be here any minute now," the elderly witch tapped the chairs on one side of the long, pine table. "There are many topics to discuss before the meeting is concluded. We haven't much time, so I'm afraid we'll have to keep chit-chat to a minimum."
Chit-chat? Is that what she thought they would be doing? Catching up over tea like it was a fun outing.
She gripped the edge of her seat as she sat near the witch. Draco took his seat and quietly brought it closer to hers. His deep breaths filled Hermione's thoughts, syncing her own breath to his chest, and relaxing with each passing moment.
A static pop burst through the quiet a few minutes later. In it were three people. One was a lackey in a suit she recognized as a Ministry employee. The dull hues of the suit gave it away. As did the tasteless bowler hat atop their head.
"Two muggles. As ordered," the wizard said in his nasally way. "Took us a bit to get through all the way points."
"Yes, well, thank you Charles."
"One hour. I'll be back in one hour."
Her parents shifted until they were gestured forward with a welcoming smile. They were wrinkled from the journey in. Apparating was a process. It was their first time, too. The upset stomach was common, as was retching. She recognized the red, watery gaze of her mother, Stacey. She was the one who fell ill during their journey in.
Still, Hermione stretched out her arms wide enough to take both her parents in a hug.
"Mum. Daddy. I'm so glad to see you." A stray tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
Her mother threw her arms tight around her daughter. "Oh, my little sweet dove. I've not stopped thinking about you. How are you? How's the baby?"
"I'm fine. We're both fine." Hermione sniffled. "And I'm not sad. This is just the hormones. They like to make me cry."
"Not our strong witch," William said with a smile.
There were not many witches who liked to admit it, but she knew that her dad was her favorite person in the entire world. Daddy's girl from the moment she was born. He was her knight in shining armor and saved her when she took on too many projects at once, helped ease panic attacks with breathing exercises, was her only friend through those many lonely years and helped her cope with the discovery she was not a muggle as they were.
He was a strong man of thick brown hair. A curly beard hanged from his face. It always scratched her face when she hugged him. Now. She did not care if it broke the skin. Her arms cinched tight against her father's chest.
"I'm so glad you're here." She sighed.
"Mister and Missus Granger, I hate to interrupt but we have much to discuss and so little time to do it in," Professor McGonagall interrupted from her perch at the table.
It soured her mood. She glared very sharply at the velvet-robed professor with a pure loathing. All those years she idolized the professor were wasted on a woman who hadn't cared if Hermione saw the only family she had.
Well, not only. She had Draco.
He'd remained standing near his seat at the table. The onlook of his eyes told the story of hesitation to interrupt their reunion. An open palm of his rested upon the clean wood. The crisp of his black suit with grey tie cut a slender profile her parents were bound to notice. It was night and day difference between Draco and Ron, and it was not Ron with whom supported her through the struggles she now faced.
She sniffed back the rest of her liquid joy and relief. "I'd like you to meet someone first."
"Miss Granger, really, please. We do not have the tim-."
"Mum. Daddy. This is Draco Malfoy." She touched his hand from across the table. "Draco, these are my parents William and Stacey Granger."
The wizard was raised with manners. He offered his hand and shook both her parent's hands politely, with a steady voice and respectful eye gaze. It lacked the usual degree of confidence where he put his hand in his pocket and charmed his way to their hearts as he did every adult he came across.
There was a tension through the tissues of his throat as he gulped more than once.
"This is the one, eh, dove?" Her father shifted his stare back to her.
She nodded her head. "Yeah, Daddy. This is him."
"Please. There is time for this later." The professor placed both her fists down. "I don't mean to rush, but we are not given much time. Miss Granger, please take your seat. Mister and Missus Granger, please. Right there is just fine."
They all took their seats. Hermione and Draco on one, William and Stacey on another. It pained to be so apart after all the work it took to get close. Professor McGonagall stood at the head to direct the meeting. If it had been up to Hermione, they could have forgone the chaperone. She was already up a duff. What else could they do?
"It's so nice to meet you, Draco," Stacey said as she took her seat. Chestnut hair hanged at her shoulders with gentle waves from a curling wand. "We've heard many things about you. Haven't we, William?"
"Just about as much as I like to hear about a boy," he replied.
"It has helped calm us knowing she has someone here that supports her, seeing as her other friends don't." It was a jab at the absent Weasley. If only they knew how furious they should be at the unmentioned wizard.
Draco filled with pride. "I'll always be there for her. And the baby. Anything they need. I'll ensure they have it."
His words did puncture, if slightly, the solid shield of her father. It was difficult to tell seeing as he was focused on being as intimidating as possible, but she knew the exhale through his nose brought forth his calm.
He was relieved.
The professor cleared her throat. "We are here to address the circumstance of your daughter's pregnancy. There are a few points we should discuss. First, we have removed her from her shared housing assignment to a private bedchamber with accommodations for her changing body and the demands as the pregnancy progresses along. It is fitted with a nursery for once the child is born. It will have to live within school walls during the duration of the school year until Miss Granger is graduated. Our school matron has also updated her own knowledge that includes prenatal care both for mum and baby."
Her father shifted in his seat. "Just how often is she to be seen by a medical professional?"
"We have arranged for regular checkups as outlined in the directory for expecting mums," Professor McGonagall replied. She removed the eyeglasses from her nose. "There are a number of precedents set by this circumstance. We have never had this happen before."
"Because I'm muggleborn," Hermione clarified for her parents.
"She's still our daughter. She has a right to her family and her education."
"I'm afraid not according to law," McGonagall answered. "If she chooses to have a child outside of school grounds during the school year, it will be assumed that she has decided against a magical life. All her memories will be removed. Lest assured, we are in the process of making labor and delivery options for Miss Granger here within the school so that does not happen. We hate to waste a mind as bright as hers. It would be such a tragedy. I believe it is fair that we all agree the option to finish schooling is the only one."
"The tragedy is the lack of punishment," Stacey Granger said.
Draco's breath caught in his throat.
The professor's lips parted in disbelief. "I beg your pardon?"
"That Ronald Weasley has made our daughter miserable with his bullying," she fumed.
Beneath the table, her fingers touched his thigh. His hand instantly latched around hers. They shared a brief moment of eye contact before they looked back to the others before them.
William nodded in agreement with his wife. "Why is this school protecting a wizard that has ran our daughter from her friends and life? Just who does this school protect from scoundrels like that?"
"We have addressed the problem," the professor supplied. She was no better than the Ministry official.
"No punishments for poor breeding," Draco snickered. "I resolved the issue with the wizard myself. He won't be running his mouth any more."
"Mister Malfoy, that's quite enough."
"Oh Hermione. We are so grateful that you've severed ties with Ron before something like this happened. We never had the heart to say, but we did not like him one bit. The boy never respected you," her mother said. "We are just so confused. You never mentioned – we thought you were still together when you wrote us. What, what happened? Why hadn't you told us about Draco sooner?"
Here was the lie came in. A carefully crafted, not at all on-the-spot fabrication. It was embedded in truth to aid the believability of it.
"Please Miss Granger, we must move on."
The professor's words fell on deaf ears.
"I never told you, but Ron wasn't always faithful to me."
Her mother gasped. Her father, well he just shook his head, not utterly surprised by the news but still upset by it all the same.
"A roommate of mine and him used to hook up after hours. When I'd gone to sleep. I'd hear them in the common room sometimes. On patrol. I never told them I saw, but I did."
Her hand tensed in Draco's hold. His thumb gently ran up and down the back of her hand in comfort.
She was humiliated by the truth that Ron demanded she tell. The fact that she had caught him cheating multiple times with Lavender. That was true. Now, it was a weapon to weave a lie to stick a lifetime.
"So," she continued, "I let my emotions get the better of me. I found Draco one night, devastated and hurt. He was so kind. It just made me think it was right to chase my feelings away with him. I know it was wrong to do it back to Ron. I really do."
It was an unwelcome detour in the professor's carefully planned discussion route for the meeting. She spent the rest of her available air to drone on about Ministry policy, what was still expected as proper behavior, the abstinence of sexual relations within school walls, added coursework to prepare to care for a new infant, the assumed role of being mother and the expectation it not interfere with her other studies and responsibilities as Prefect.
A summer leave was granted. She was permitted to spend the summer holiday with her family, but come September 1st, she would be back on the platform. Her parents would receive news by owl when the baby was born. One picture would be delivered at that time.
Students of the seventh year would have the choice for an extracurricular class that would allot Hermione time to attend class and study for final exams by providing childcare. It was to be the parent's responsibility – hers and Draco's – to ensure childcare was adequately covered if there were not enough students within the class to cover. It would only be a professor's transgression to allow an infant within class. Many, like Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, were too dangerous to permit the entrance of a baby.
Most mention of Draco's expectations were avoided. Professor McGonagall did a good duty to write the instructions as for a Single Mother's Guide to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It was partly because the professor believed it impossible for Draco to remain dedicated to the child.
There was little time left at the end of the meeting for her parents to properly meet Draco. They did their best. They asked after his parents and his plans after graduation. It helped that he mentioned his father's success and the desire to build on his father's legacy.
Then came the dreaded question with just two minutes left.
"Do you intend to marry Hermione?" William Granger asked. He did not mince his words nor shy away from Draco's face. The two men shared an intense moment together, a battle of wills to see with whom would break first. It was in her experience that her father would not break. However, it was a Slytherin's nature to also not break. "Or do you intend to continue this as friends? A child needs a defined family. Whether it be nuclear or blended."
"William, please. Don't scare the man."
"Daddy, really." Hermione chastised him lightly. "Isn't that for us to decide?"
"There is plenty of time to decide, isn't there, William? You don't want to rush them into a hasty decision." Stacey gave a warm smile. "Whatever you decide, we'll support it."
Draco's hand touched the opposite side of Hermione's waist and pulled her against his side. "I would never do anything to dishonor your daughter."
"Except impregnate my daughter, unwed, you mean." William's bushy eyebrow raised to reveal a very wide, very observant stare.
Hermione blushed furiously. "Draco's father is the one who fought for the chance for you to see me. It was only by his hard work that made it possible. Please realize that it was done out of kindness to me to make this happen. They didn't have to."
Her mother was equally embarrassed. "We are eternally grateful for this. Please, send your parents our regards, Draco." Her hand pressed against her husband's chest, the silent signal to withhold his asinine behavior for emerging from between his lips.
"I will make it my life's purpose to tend to your daughters every desire as long as she will have me."
The Ministry official apparated within the room. His hand outstretched. Time was up.
Hermione embraced her parents with all the love she could manage. A soft apology wanted to escape her lips. They deserved a better child than one who constantly turned their life upside down.
Her pride kept the words to herself. "I love you dearly," she told them.
"Until next time," her mum replied.
"Take care, little dove. And you, son." He outstretched his hand. "Take care of them both for me."
Draco nodded and gratefully took his hand. "I will, sir."
They were hesitant to take the official's hand. He nodded his greeting to them both and said, "Deep breath," before they popped away without another word. An empty room stared back. A thick coldness traveled down the length of Hermione's arms. Gooseflesh turned her skin to a washboard.
She grabbed her jumper and winter coat. "Let's go."
"Are you alright?" Draco's lips sloped downward. He observed her with the softness bit of concern.
Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. It was not that hard to leave her parents before. Soon enough, they'd be together for winter holiday and it would feel like they had missed no time together at all.
She dragged the backs of her hands down her face. Her nose dribbled. It was wiped quickly.
"Best not be late to meet your parents," she mumbled. "Not done yet, are we?"
It was a trek back to the castle. The fluffy white of winter filled the paths with a degree of effort. Cool air blew in violent gusts against their faces as they walked. Crunchy crisp snow underfoot. The smell of the distant trees and the Black Lake made a pretty fragrance on the wind.
A patch of the trail turned jagged. Draco helped Hermione hop through the series of dips and ice, never losing his grip on her hand, even after the trail turned easy again.
His silvery eyes flashed. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him looking more than once.
"If you'd wanted to hold my hand, you could have asked." She grinned.
The calm of the outdoors forgot her worries, just for a short while. It was nice. The way the sun shined its rays against her face, blaring warmth and light. It was impossible to not feel better.
He chuckled. "I was going to say the same thing!"
The silence was back to a comfortable air as they navigated the path just as they navigated their thoughts.
She wondered if he thought of the future.
They never discussed the future. It was in the moment. What to do the next day, the next minute, the next exam. Never next year or the year after that, or after Hogwarts.
It was impossible to think of a life outside the walls that held their childhood and teenage years in a time capsule never to change through the centuries of time. What was life outside their school? Neither knew that much.
Her eyes glanced at his lengthy profile. It was all too settled for a wizard about to face his parents after revealing he was a sexual deviant. Did he worry what they might say? Tradition would dictate certain actions be taken. His family might expect a proposal of some kind. Had he thought of that? Did he have answers for their questions?
Hermione decided it was better to ask than leave him stunned in the light of their inquiry.
"Are there any things we should decide before we meet your parents?" She made sure her voice was nothing but light and airy, rather than the frantic nervous witch she was.
The future did not frighten her as much as the Malfoys.
He shook his head. "I doubt they'll acknowledge my existence. They'll want to know everything about you."
That made a terrifying clench in her gut.
"Is that the tone of jealousy I hear?"
"Not at all. I might be proud if they proceed to replace me in their hearts. Perhaps then they'll allow me to have my ear pierced like I want."
"An earring?" She laughed. "Really? I can't picture that!"
Draco shook out his hair. "What do you think? Could you live with a wizard's pierced ear?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. Of course. It is your ear. Do what you want with it," she said.
"I'd like the mother of my child to like it." His tone was less playful. "It might put me at a disadvantage in the future if you do not."
A snort erupted from her nose. "How do you mean 'disadvantage'?"
"You know. When we're arguing because you let our daughter go out in a skirt that doesn't touch her ankles and I say I don't like it. You'll have the reply, 'Well I didn't like that bloody earring you got' and I'll have nothing to say back. That sort of disadvantage."
Their future. Arguing. Over their child.
She snickered to hide the pure giddiness she felt over a circumstance. A life together was not so horrible when it was like that. Even if it was silly. "I suppose you'll just have to encourage me to get a piercing you don't like to make us even."
"Well that's a blessed start." The tip of his shoe kicked a drift of snow.
They fell into a silence once more. It overtook them in thick waves. The crisp ambiance of an alive forest, a backdrop to a lovely walk hand-in-hand as they marched forward to a meeting demanded of them. They were incapable of frolicking within the heaps of snow cut through the landscape, rolling in the fluffy white to make snow angels and shivering, teeth clattering from all their winter fun.
It lifted her mood to imagine what they might have done instead of walking back to the castle. A rosy hue tinted her eyes. Images of romance, with him, his hand through her curls, touching his jaw with her palm, kissing him gently at first, then firmer.
Draco freaking Malfoy. Her boyfriend! Or, baby daddy, as he phrased it.
"It's strange, don't you think? To know we'll see each other when Hogwarts is done. I only thought I'd see you in Witch Weekly or at a Quidditch match in London somewhere. Now we'll be changing nappies in the dead of night and crying when the baby cries because we're so tired?" A mother was not a path she thought of herself, now it included Draco Malfoy alongside her covered in mucous and vomit and spoiled milk.
White clouds poured from his nose. The heat of his lungs lost to the Scottish air. It dissipated away to the loss of heat through the stretching arms of impending winter.
"Where do you picture it?" He inquired softly. "Here?"
She shrugged. "I can't say. I think not. It feels warm wherever we are."
"Are we in love there?"
Her eyes snapped to his just as his dipped to the ground. He refused to bring himself to face her.
The beating of her heart stammered as air remained home within her lungs.
She squinted against the sun's late afternoon rays. It burned her retinas against the white. Her arm raised above her head to watch him closely. He was a precise study. The slight motion of his lips changed meaning to their words, as did the shifting of his weight from one leg to the other.
"You mean, what my dad said, yeah? About marriage?"
"My parents are bound to ask the same." His shoulders shrugged, as if indifferent, but rather, the edge of his tone indicated the uncertainty.
He was nervous. What for?
"Well, what is it that you'd like to tell them?" She asked. "I know your parents are traditional whereas mine are not. It is whatever you like. Whatever you want. I'm in your debt. Forever. You freed me of Ron and the curse of the Weasleys. There is nothing I can do to equate that."
Draco stepped forward. He reached out for her other hand.
Their fingers laced together on both hands at their chests. She leaned into him.
"What I'd like is this: There is no plot anymore," he said softly. "It is not some secret alliance we made. It is us. We are dating, expecting our first child, only seeing the future for the three of us. My future has you in it. It does not matter if there is a ring on your finger or not. My days shall begin and end with you."
Then, he released one hand and pressed the palm against her ripening womb which grew bigger every day. It was large enough to fit in the expanse of his stretched hand. The taut flesh started to protrude from her uniforms. The waistbands were tight. Soon enough, they would be impossible to button closed.
Warmth in the form of five fingers spread throughout her flesh. It rippled deep inside her.
Something answered back.
She gasped. Both hands at his shoulders.
"What. What is it?" He breathed.
"It moved."
Coherent life, not a cluster of cells, resided within her body. The reason for her suffering was contained to a body that moved and swayed and responded to the comfort of its mother in the safety of its nest.
Hermione believed it was a sign that the fetus knew its father was Draco.
"The baby moved?"
She nodded. Excitement in her touch, she took both of his hands and pressed them against her belly.
"I think it knew you," she said with an unbreakable smile. "It reached out through me. You didn't feel that?"
His eyes went wide. "No. How on – it is only seventeen weeks formed. How is that possible?"
"I don't know. Is magical pregnancy different than muggle ones? I don't know. May-Maybe there is something special about it," Hermione mumbled. "We should research it. Tonight."
Draco kissed the backs of both her hands. "I'll be glad to, but right now, we need to get going. My parents will be waiting."
The smile refused to retreat. Her eyes swam with emotion at his beautiful face.
She grabbed hold of him before she thought better of it and placed a plump pair of lips against his. His body jumped in surprise, but then folded around her to eagerly kiss her back. The thick wet of his tongue danced outside the walls of her lips, ready to lunge through. It was how she forgot herself. Everything.
Their tongues slid past one another as they explored the sweet depths of the other's mouth. Warmth, sticky, wet. Tingles popped like bubbles against her skin. The casual grip of his hands against her waist fueled their ripening explosion beneath the wakening stretch of her creamy complexion.
Heat dripped through her insides. It squirmed between places left abandoned by her daily processes. A sharp rupture split straight through from her hot core to her mouth. A path of which she wished devoured by his tantalizing tongue.
His breath echoed against her ear. Her lips against the soft divots of his throat.
"We should stop," finally croaked from his lips before he pressed their warmth against her own once more.
She was absorbed in the desire that filled her hands. They'd taken on a life of their own. Her fingers were caught at the second of his button near his bellybutton.
"Totally." She gasped for breath. His hands traveled down her back toward the upper part of her bum and squeezed them until her toes nearly curled.
"Before someone sees," he said.
The castle was not far off. A host of underage eyes were bound to be peering at them that very moment.
A rush of reality shot to the head. "Oh, Godric. We should not do that."
"Well, I mean…" His voice trailed with a wicked curl to the corner of his mouth.
She blushed. "Maybe we can. For practice."
He nodded, out of breath and blinking fast. "Right. Who knows who we might have to prove it to?"
Their heads were less than clear. Even as they ascended the stairs of Hogwarts to an empty room with one large table in the middle, chairs grouped around. A fireplace was ablaze with hearty glow. A puff of smoke and heat once penetrated, the room comfortable despite the lack of window light. Hermione was hit all at once with the blinding cold of reality from the happy-dancing heart inside her chest already attached to the wizard at her side.
There was a tense air they stepped into. The room was regal, stoic, and piercing through her.
A man of long flowing robes stood at the table. His blonde hair matched that of the woman beside him, seated with her hands in her lap, a graceful indifference in her features, beauty unbroken by time. Each of their brows raised when Hermione and Draco emerged together. The center of their focus: the joined hands.
Hermione dropped her hand away from his. A giant blush consumed her in fire.
"Glad you two could be bothered to join us." Professor Snape arose from the darkness of a corner. His sudden emergence from the black startled her to a halt.
"Professor," she breathed. "I didn't see you there."
"We've asked him here," a soft voice as sweet as honey said. It came from Draco's mother. Narcissa.
She lifted her palm, each finger moved slowly and beckoned Hermione closer. "Please. We are very grateful you will have us this afternoon. I know how precious these days off are."
The genuine move of kindness was much appreciated. Hermione lowered herself to a chair, though she was certain to only move when Draco did the same. The intensity that poured from his parents was not a force she could withstand alone.
"Miss Granger." Lucius Malfoy nodded in acknowledgement. His dull grey eyes flickered to his son's face with an extended moment of contact neither dared break with a display of emotion. Still, something passed between them. An exchange, of some kind. "We've heard so much about you."
"All good things," Narcissa added with a soft smile.
The regard of her in their eyes eased Hermione deeper into her seat. They were intimidating figures. The intensity lived within the air they breathed. Their demeanor did not reveal any ill will.
As of yet.
Narcissa exhaled. The smell of her sweet breath a freshness through the smokey air. Her pale eyes glimmered. "We are sorry to have to meet under these circumstances." She flashed her son a look of blame. "A day in our home would have been lovely, had we been given the chance. It is a handsome estate with rose gardens and a lake for swimming. I cannot understand why our son might deny you such a visit."
"You understand our urgency to visit the school directly," Lucius stated in vast contrast to his wife's statement.
Hermione gulped back apprehension. "Of course."
"We wanted to be here to support you both through this," his mother hummed.
"And discuss the next steps," Lucius said. "Draco, you've claimed the child as your own and wish to proceed in such a manner, as I understand it?"
"I have, Father. The child is mine."
"A baby is a lot of responsibility," Narcissa said. It was clear that she alluded to his immaturity though she had not said it as clear as that. The fall in her tone said it for her.
Her husband was not so opposed. He looked down at his wife with nothing but confidence, the same that she recognized in Draco.
It was obvious Draco was his father's son. She wondered if such qualities would pass onto their own child, seeing as genetics were not a factor. Doubts were sure to be cast if their son was not as confident, suave, intelligent as both its parents, and grandparents both him.
Oh Godric. What if it had the brain of a Weasley? She shuddered at to what havoc she might birth in the form of Ronald Weasley and Arthur Weasley's grandchild.
"Draco is a responsible wizard," Lucius stated. "He knows to accept the consequences of his actions. It is his duty, as heir of our house."
Heir of their multi-million Galleon house.
"You mean," Hermione's small voice squeaked through the quiet. "You're not angry?"
"What would my anger solve, other than to force a divide between my son and I?" It was a shocking opposition to what would have happened with the Weasleys: anger, grounding, making their lives miserable to teach them responsibility. Molly would have made Hermione take over household chores for the sake of showing her what it meant to be a mother. "Besides, the fault is all mine. I have emphasized the importance of continuation with my son so heavily. It is no wonder this has happened. He has done what was expected of him, rather soon but not against our wishes. Children are the miracle that continues on the magical generations."
Draco cleared his throat. "Father. This has nothing to do with what you taught me. It was not intentional."
"Perhaps not. But our family is known for our potent wiles in two things: business and pleasure. It is a curse as much as it is a blessing. Things like this are bound to happen to a young man as smart and handsome as you."
Narcissa touched her husband's shoulder. Her pale eyes glanced over at Hermione with a flickering persistence.
Finally, she took it upon herself to speak. "You, yourself, are quite smart, Miss Granger. The smartest of a century from what we hear. With a talent for Potions. Quite the catch for our son."
The witch was too kind to mention how idiotic it was to fall pregnant at seventeen. A counter-fertility potion was an easy brew for someone as talented as her. It was pure idiocy to have not used it.
"I study very hard for my marks," Hermione said.
The matronly witch conveyed doubt. "Professor Snape has told us it is more than a mere familiarity."
It was the first time the professor was addressed. He'd kept quiet in his seat, comfortable to sit in the dark, out of eye, as he was as a man outside the classroom. The mention of his name rose his eyes up from the clasped hands at the table.
Narcissa and Lucius looked on for explanation; their brows raised with question.
Professor Snape inhaled deep and allowed the air to ascend his spine to straight. "Miss Granger has bested those in years before her since the start of her magical education. She can observe mere written instruction and perfect it without practice. Her studies in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration have shown similar abilities. There is no doubt she will be a gifted witch when she leaves these walls."
All these weeks felt like she'd lost his respect. Her hand never raised in class as it would bring to light her fall from his grace. She expected his opinion of her to have fallen below the dungeons of the school, not so high as he set for her in front of the Malfoys. It filled her heart with floods of watery emotion.
Ever since her pregnancy was revealed, it was a constant reminder of the disappointment expressed in the sad eyes of the professors as she passed, like she no longer mattered because of the life that she grew inside her stomach. Her mind was tossed aside. They only saw her future full of nappies, dead-end jobs to make ends meet, a pathetic flat in the city where they lived off of tea and naps.
It was fair to say she thought the same of herself. She knew that it waited out there.
The professor's words instilled hope that she might not have fallen as far as she thought.
"What has the school done to accommodate my son and Miss Granger? I hope the hospital wing has arranged for the proper care to be given," Lucius said. He placed his palm against the table and leaned forward.
An intimidating look passed through his face. It was no wonder how he was able to conquer as much as he did in the business world. He was terrifying.
"Madame Pomphrey has arranged for care," Snape confirmed.
"I'd like our family healer so monitor her. He can Floo in from London every other month to check that she is being cared for," Lucius said.
"Every other month?"
The sound of Draco's voice was a surprise.
"Do you have concerns as to the care offered by Madame Pomphrey?" Narcissa asked.
His hand reached over and spread against the inflated bulge of Hermione's belly. "No. I'd only like their health to be a priority. Make it every month. I want to be there, too."
Professor Snape did not move to make a complaint or agree. The stoic indifference on his face rivaled that of Draco. He only spoke when demanded an answer. They spoke of procedure to ensure the healer would be allowed onto school grounds. It was left to the professor to acquire the headmaster's permission.
Finally, the conversation flowed away from the question of medical care. It moved onto basic needs, all that she was given already.
All the Hogwarts business out of the way, things turned more personal. Lucius took a seat. His wife placed her hand atop his on the arm rest, a regal personal message yet as properly managed as ever.
It was a question as to how she was not regarded as goddess divine. Every movement was that of a dance, graceful and alluring. She brought forth energy. Her face commanded the eyes of everyone in the room. Hermione was trapped beneath a cloud of dazzlement.
"Miss Granger, we would be honored if you would visit us on holiday," the witch said. The slippery sweetness of her voice was too powerful to illicit denial. Hermione had to say yes. "We have a fabulous Christmas Eve party we'd love for you to attend. It is Draco's favorite night of the year."
"Mother." He groaned, embarrassed. A hasty look to read Hermione's face said as much. The light color brought forth to his cheeks only confirmed it.
"Oh, shush, darling. You know you do. Our elves have a fabulous display of lights that line the estate. A magical garden of twinkling lights. Then there are horse drawn carriages with hot cocoa and biscuits." She smiled. "We beg of you to attend. It would not be complete with the mother of our grandchild not in attendance. You're more than welcome to stay. We'll have a suite made up for you, of course."
She felt her eyes grow wide. "Wow. Um, thank you. I'm honored. I'll have to ask my parents -."
"They're welcome, too," Narcissa replied. There was a hint of determination in her gaze, a hint that she would not be denied what she wanted. "After all, we will have to be formerly introduced sometime. Soon the better, I say."
"Mother." Draco hissed softly.
Their eyes aligned.
"Don't pressure her."
A wrist adorned with a solid diamond silver bracelet touched her chest. "Pressure? Darling, these are things that we have to do. We'd like to know the family of our grandchild, the people with whom we shall share our son. We have not even gotten to know Miss Granger. She will be apart of our lives as much as you are apart of theirs, will she not?"
Know them? She would have to know them?
What like, weekends in Wiltshire then weekdays in the city with her parents? Would they share a room? Who would the baby sleep with? Could she trust Draco to take the baby alone to a place she was not present?
A tap turned on at her palms. Sweat, slick and profuse, leeched through her palms into the fabric of her trousers. She felt an outline of each finger atop her thighs.
"She doesn't need this stress right now. It's not good for the baby," Draco said. "Don't push her to do something uncomfortable."
"It was a mere invitation."
"It is mine and Hermione's decision."
"There is no reason to hide her now, Draco. She's with child. Are you – you aren't embarrassed of your family, are you, darling?"
His hand still pressed against Hermione's stomach. He held it protectively in his hand as if he thought it was the only force to keep it inside her womb.
Lucius was silent through their heated intensity over the emotion his wife felt to being denied the right to knowing his son's love life. He instead appraised Hermione. His eyes a beaming light to her face. Her eyes flashed between the two. Their debate bringing very high emotions from both. She looked to the patriarch for help. It was agony to listen to the distrust she brought to their relationship. Her heart burned for both.
It was only by the pleading in her expression than Lucius finally sighed. He turned to his wife, one hand on hers.
"My love," he said. "Perhaps it was not your place to invite her to a family gathering. Draco might have wished for that opportunity himself."
The color drained from her face when she realized what she'd done. The knowing look and raised brow of her husband only highlighted the issue for the rest to view quite obviously. "Oh, darling. I overstepped. I apologize."
"We only just found out she wouldn't be expelled from school, Mother. We haven't thought of Christmas. Or names. Or even what we are going to do with a newborn. There are lots of things we have to sort out yet. And until then, I don't want any pressures to make something of it."
Both of his parents nodded. "Of course."
She felt for so guilty. Draco had practically chastised his parents in front of her, over an invitation to a party! Did he not want her in attendance?
Hermione untucked her curls from her ears. "I only meant that I'd have to ask my parents if they had any plans. They like to walk through Kew Gardens. It is a bit of a family tradition. But I am sure they'd be honored by the invitation. They are very curious to meet you. As well as grateful that you fought for their right to see me. It's not been easy on them. As muggles they have few rights that can be respected by the school. I believe it is very trying on them to be so separated. My mum can't even be with me for the birth."
The scariest moment of her life without her mother present made it all the more real.
She'd have to force an infant from her body. Not only that, but it was the closest she'd be to death in her life and the statistics of what could go wrong only filled her with more apprehension. It was possible the baby to tear its way through her hole into the other one! How women elected to more than one birth was beyond her imagination. She would not. Would not, repeat it.
"Her mother cannot be present?" There was a fiery glare to Narcissa's eye as she spoke to the silent professor who looked like he'd rather jump into hellfire than deal with talk about labor and delivery. "The girl is entitled to her mum."
"A muggle cannot step on school grounds, Cissa."
Professor Snape shifted with an exhale. "Muggles are not permitted entrance to Hogwarts. It is law."
"Screw the law! She cannot give birth alone in a school. It is untoward."
"I'll be there," Draco said.
She forced a smile. "That is all well and good, Draco, and I am proud of your dedication to Miss Granger, but there are certain times when a girl needs her mother's strength. It is one of those times."
"The Board will not change that law. It is the one I cannot help," Lucius answered lowly. "They were adamant. It took hours to convince them of an hour-long meeting in Hogsmeade."
"Severus," Narcissa pleaded. "There must be something we can do."
"It is the headmaster's opinion that the boundaries of the castle be respected," the professor drawled.
Hermione's head fell. She knew it was too much to ask for.
"However," Professor Snape continued.
Blood flooded her veins. A hope ascended to the blissful heat of her breath.
"It would not be in his power to deny a leave of absence if she were to remain within a magical family."
The Malfoy's he meant. He meant give birth within the Malfoy's home.
It was not the smoke of the fireplace that choked her; it was shock. The request that she have the most intimate experience a woman could have, a situation that warranted as few onlookers as possible, was to be done in a prestigious home with a feign family waiting outside the door. It was too much. Too much to ask of a family that was not biologically bound to the baby within her.
The imposition would be nothing to Draco. He was accustomed to lavish doting of his family.
Hermione was not. She was raised a modest life in a humble suburb of London.
That was not the place for a witch like her. A wealthy estate, birthing an heir, a handsome blonde as a boyfriend?
No. She couldn't continue with the lie it was!
"It is an alternative the Board might entertain," Lucius stated. "It will take no small degree of charm, but the reminder that it is a Malfoy heir shall encourage them to see things in my perspective. An heir has a right to be born in their family house."
The gentle hold upon her belly was awakened with her touch, as she wrapped a grip upon Draco's arm. He glanced down. A joyful play to his lips.
Oh, honestly! Are all wizards so roused with desire?
How could she make him understand she was uncomfortable with all the attention? If they went out of their way to cater to her, guilt would leech in through every shred of her courage and force the truth out of her lips. She'd ruin both their lives if she did.
The moment his silver eyes fell into her brown pools, an exchange of pure understanding passed through.
Draco placed his opposite palm along the edge of the tabletop. "If we were to choose the Manor, and be granted leave, Hermione's mother has to be there."
"I'd hear of nothing less," Narcissa said.
"We'd like time to consider it," he replied.
Lucius flicked a thick section of hair back over his shoulder. "Severus, how soon does a request need to be given to the headmaster?"
"I'd not wait past the start of next term if you have hopes for it to be approved."
There was a shift in the room. Professor Snape dared to glare at the clock on the wall. Draco shifted in his seat in a sudden discomfort that their meeting might overrun.
Narcissa and Lucius noticed the change throughout the atmosphere. It brought forth accepting exhales, though it looked like there was much more they expected to exchange before the end.
"I do believe it is time to go, my love." He rose from his seat. The black robes and suit underneath were that of his son's taste, or rather, Draco emulated his father through his clothing. Solid black upon black. It was slimming on a typical person. The overlay of flowy black robes stole from a slim cut image.
The Malfoy patriarch offered his gloved hand to his wife. The shimmer of her teal and beige painted nails caught the sharp light of the fire as they grasped his hand. Her body rose. It was that of a slender woman, a bit taller than a dainty witch, but she was none the less a porcelain-looking witch.
All except her eyes. They held her strength.
"So soon," her voice echoed with a hint of sadness.
She embraced her son with a taut squeeze. "I love your letters, my son. I look forward to them every week. And good luck on the Pitch."
Next it was Hermione's turn. As Lucius shook his son's hand and placed an open palm against his shoulder, Narcissa opened her arms for another hug, this time with the witch.
They joined in a soft embrace. It joined together two witches almost strangers to one another.
"It was lovely to meet you, Miss Granger. It pains me that has ended so soon. There is so much more I'd like to ask you." The witch smiled. "A letter, perhaps? Would you grant me a letter?"
A letter was not a bother.
Hermione nodded. "I'll look for your Owl."
"Brilliant." One of the enchanting smiles spread across her face.
The two gave their final goodbyes before they stepped into the fireplace, green flame consumed, and gone in the bright flash.
Professor Snape cleared his throat. "I do believe you are expected somewhere, Mister Malfoy."
"Yes, sir."
The blonde stretched forward. His lips brushed against her cheek in a quick smudge before he left.
"Miss Granger, do you have a moment?" The professor questioned. His wand flicked the open door closed.
She swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"How have the Potions been working?" He asked. Genuinely curious.
Her spirits lifted. It was a welcome reprieve from the constant barrage of shame she felt whenever his eyes found their way to hers.
"Well," she answered.
"Madame Pomphrey reported you've had no other symptoms. Is that correct?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
He looked down the tip of his nose with annoyance. "The moral are often self-sacrificing. I find that those in Gryffindor who are bound by ethics are more prone to such occurrences."
She crossed her arms across her chest. Being put on display was the equivalent of being naked.
All she was able to do was focus on her shoes. "It is not self-sacrificing to endure."
He sighed. "I thought as much." The professor rubbed his temples, set his hand against the table, and took a moment to regain a sense of himself in the mess of teenage drama.
"I'm sorry," blurted out of her mouth before she could think twice.
"You do not owe me an apology, Miss Granger, so do not give me one."
"But I do. I- I've let you down."
"Are there any symptoms I should cover under a new batch?"
She shook her head. "It's helped the morning sickness. I've got more energy now, not so tired. My back still hurts a bit. That'll only worsen as time goes on, won't it?"
"I'll add in mild pain relievers to reduce the muscle aches. Anything else?"
"Sir," she gulped. "Please. I want to apologize my behavior. I assume it has casted an ugly light on the school and all my professors. I am a role model, a Gryffindor house Prefect. I cannot image the damage I've done to all the young witches. I deserve to be punished, but not without stating how sorry I am for the damage I've caused."
"Miss Granger, do you believe yourself a saint?" Her professor swiftly asked.
The question invoked a multitude of incessant blinking.
"No, sir." Her small voice croaked.
"Do you believe to be a role model you must be without fault?"
Again, she shook her head, but said nothing. The water in her eyes was a war in which she focused all her concentration, blinking away the tears that wanted to fall. For what reason? She hadn't a clue.
The beating of her heart slowed. It felt heavy. Like a weight upon weight, stone upon stone, set against her ribcage.
Professor Snape sighed. His taut lips relaxed at his mouth with a set of downturned eyes. Their corners wrinkled. Through the dark glimmer of his coal black eyes, a ray of hope emerged.
She ran her fingers through her loose curls, gripped her face, and tried to hide the fact that she was near tears. It only took a moment of her devastation to illicit a response from the wizard. He bent his knees, not without a wince, and placed a palm upon her shoulder.
"It is by fault that a role model is defined, not perfection. It is the ability to fight through hardship and adversity that is admirable," he told her in his kindest, yet steady voice. "Harden your skin, Miss Granger. Harden it so that it may be impenetrable to sever. Let no person influence the reach of your goals. There is much in this world yet to conquer."
"Conquer?" She gave a dismissive snort as droplets dripped down the edge of her nose. "No one is going to take me seriously."
"Make them."
"But how?"
He shook his head. "Now you know as well as I that it does not do a service to give away all the answers." The wiggle of his brow encouraged a smile, although her cheeks were still stained with tears.
It was not long after that the professor was required at the Pitch for a strategy council with the house team. Hermione was left the room until she felt well enough to leave. The blessed quiet gave her time to absorb all the information of the day from both her parents and Draco's.
There was so much so consider.
Draco had been right; she hadn't thought once of a name! What kind of mum doesn't think of names the moment they find out they're expecting?
She made a quick list that involved her favorite novels: Charlotte, as in Bronte, Isolde which added Tristan to the list, Gatsby, Arya, Elinor from Jane Austen's greatest work, Anais, Clarissa, Emma, Atticus, Barrett, Colin from The Secret Garden, Dorian Grey.
Dorian Grey. That was a cute combination. Dorian Grey Granger-Malfoy.
Eh, it was a mouthful then. Four names reeked of self-importance. Just whom was she birthing, a count of the 18th century?
It appalled Draco to even suggest it.
"Granger-Malfoy? Are you barmy?" The wizard asked.
They were in a crowded corridor the next day just trying to pass through. Cold weather forced the students inside the castle as heavy downpours of snow left them trapped without exit. The temperatures dropped over night. It was now the dead of winter. Blistering gusts whipped through cracks in the walls, only adding to the cold nature of Hogwarts. Fires were stocked with firewood, constantly ablaze, as were the sconces in the hall. Not that they did much.
Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and her fought through a dense crowd. Hermione was pulled against Draco, more than once, so that she might avoid being slammed into a stack of books in someone's arms that refused to move. It helped with Crabbe and Goyle in front. They cut a wider path seeing as no one wanted to be stomped on by either of their feet.
The bulge of her expanding bump was obvious through her uniform. The little hump grew every day. It caught eyes. Many. But, there were less scowls. A few of witches with envious eyes hid their gaze, but looked over their shoulder.
Longing for a baby belly or for a handsome, blonde, Quidditch star? She guessed it was the a combination of the two.
The consequence of their opinions was lost on her. Her focus was on her studies, earning the respect of her professors back, eating, and learning how to be a baby mama, as Draco would sometimes teasingly call her.
Hermione frowned. "You don't like it?"
"You can't hyphenate my last name."
"But," she leaned close in a whisper, "it won't really be a Malfoy."
One glance showed that the two behind them hadn't overheard. Partly, she wondered if they knew. They knew Draco like the back of their hand. Every waking moment those wizards spent together.
Did they know that Draco had not conceived this child with her? If they did, they refused to acknowledge it.
"Yes. It will be. It's my baby. I want it to have my last name," he snapped under his breath. "Don't say that again."
"But what about -."
A sound splintered through the steady hum of the voices. "Lookie here. There's the bastard now."
Draco's jaw set in an audible crack. "What's that?"
There was a gaggle of Gryffindor boys huddled near a sconce off to the side. It was the largest one of the corridor. Their faces were red from the heat it gave off. It matched their red and golden ties just below their throat.
"Oh. Not you, Malfoy." The guys all laughed in their brazen way. "The one that Granger stuffed up her skirt."
Hermione only recognized one of them and it was not with the greatest sensation to remember him either. It was Cormen, or Carmac, or something like that. He was a year ahead. He'd liked to introduce himself to every single witch in Gryffindor since the start of term. The sandy blonde locks did little to tempt her. She knew the glint in his eye was more than just kindness. Tigers had a similar glint before they devoured their prey.
The way a few first year witches sprinted away from him only spoke to what he did to devour them.
Draco's wand was immediately drawn. His arm extended out forward, the other pulled back behind him.
Goyle and Crabbe slid in close, each of their bodies a wall on either side of her. A clammy hand grabbed hold of her wrist. Her eyes met the dull honey hue filled with expression. Crabbe shuffled her behind his back as a makeshift shield. She was lucky he was short enough that her tiptoes allowed her a wobbly view of the scene.
"That is my child whom you speak of," Draco hissed. "And my girlfriend. Speak of them ever again and I'll curse the bullocks right out of your pants."
It was the first time he was alive with fierceness. The protective edge in his tone only made her knees weaker than the way he loved to whisper in her ear. She steadied herself against Crabbe's shoulder as she pushed herself higher in the air.
Draco's tongue was his preferred weapon, not his wand.
"Whoa. Easy there, Malfoy. No need to get your knickers in a twist. Oh wait. That's what you did to Granger, isn't it?"
Poor idiot hadn't a chance. A spell ripped through Draco's wand in an instant. The disc circled around the group, all of whom hadn't bothered to arm themselves against him now scrambled within the folds of their robes to locate their wands. The air around them turned harsh. Styled hairs whipped back and forth. Strength grew. The bubble that encapsulated the Gryffindors swirled them like a hurricane until a sudden burst exploded within the contained dome. The ground shook below their feet. Hermione felt it travel through the stone floor.
The five wizards dropped swiftly. Their bodies the only cushion to the fall. Not that they had bothered. All their hands were clasped around their ears with mouths dropped open.
The spell receded. A surge of groans echoed through the corridor, silent as the night, eyes locked onto the fight.
"Now when they speak, they won't have to hear the drivel that spews out their mouths." Draco stiffened. His fingers slid the length of his robes, spreading the wrinkles flat.
His hand extended through the space of his two best friends. A needy pull in his eyes. "Ready for your checkup?"
Madame Pomphrey written letters to each of them that morning. They were given a specific time to meet within her office. What lacked was an explanation. It was only assumed that Hermione was due for a check.
They arrived at the precise time she dictated.
Hermione was led to the back-corner bed surrounded by white room dividers. She was instructed to lay on top of the mattress. It earned a snicked from the bedside. His arms were crossed against his chest, feet elevated, and a clean-cut smirk.
"Next time round, I want to be the father." She growled as she removed her jumper, as instructed. Only the thin of her white blouse covered her stomach.
"I don't blame you. Easiest job I've had. Could do it in my sleep."
"I'll just bet you can," she muttered.
It took the wind out of his sails. His feet dropped to the floor.
Madame Pomphrey emerged through the dividers. "Ah. I see you're ready. We'll do a simple diagnostic spell first. Deep breath, dear."
The spell read back her weight, hormone production, blood pressure and overall health. Iron read low. Madame Pomphrey made a note of it with her quill.
"You'll need an additional supplement of iron," the witch relayed.
Hermione nodded. "I'll tell Professor Snape. He's been brewing my potions."
"No worries, dearie. He will receive the report."
Madame Pomphrey had a long parchment in hand. Her quill scratched against the surface as she copied the information from the spell.
Hermione couldn't help but notice it might be quicker if she charmed the quill to magically write rather than taking the time to write it all out herself.
"Now that that's done." Madame Pomphrey placed the parchment aside. "Would you unbutton your blouse up to your ribcage? Hold it aside. Just like that."
Draco cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. His hand itched at the knot in his tie.
"Um, wha-what is this for?" His voice waivered.
"Well, there is a little thing in there that has been undisturbed for far too long. We're going to see if we can't spot a look at it."
Hermione's breath caught. "You mean, we can see it?"
Her eyes caught with Draco's. Both swam with excitement. She reached out for his hand with the hopes that he would join their bodies soon so that her physical trembles of fear would halt their ascension up her spine. When in fact, she was thrilled with fear.
An inner look at the alien changing her body. So soon. It was only formed four months prior, now it would be recognizable as a human baby?
The cold of the spell took her breath. She sputtered a shaky exhale.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked. He was at her side, hand laced inside hers.
"It can be a flash of cool," Madame Pomphrey answered. "Not to worry. Perfectly normal."
Cool? It was frigid. It seeped down through the warm fat of her belly in through her bones. The bottoms of her lungs tainted her air to wintery gusts as exhales. She thought she saw the steam rise from her lips.
A steady squeeze of Draco's hand brought her mind back to the hospital bed.
"It can take a minute."
Neither heard her. They lost themselves in the haze. Their breaths aligned, the very blood cut through the arteries of their hearts burned in the same sweetness. The solid wall his energy mixed with the flowing waters of her power. They collided in violence.
It cut through. The deeper they dove through the pupil, the harder they fell into the realm of entwined destiny.
Had there not been a witness, the bodies of two souls in need of each other would have latched on for dear life.
"There it is," the witch spoke with a fluttering tone. Her palm set against her chest. "Oh, look at that little darling."
Hermione and Draco broke away. Their eyes fluttered upward. A rectangle reflected what was within the expanded womb they watched grow little by little. Amongst the stretch of white tendons and red muscle was a pink creature, with an enlarged head, little body and scrawny long arms drifted in front of it.
"Aw." Hermione sighed. "Drake, look. It's our - our – our baby."
"I see it," he breathed.
Neither could look away from the beauty they'd created. Even when Madame Pomphrey was needed elsewhere. They begged for more time, just to watch the baby sleep, thumb in its mouth.
The witch parted the white cloth of the dividers, intent to step through, when a sudden question wretched her back inside.
"What is it?" Draco asked. "Boy? Girl?"
"You're having a girl." She gave them a hopeful smile. "Congratulations."
Wow.
Draco fell back against the headboard, hand still twisted in Hermione's. She scooted herself back until her head rested against his chest. There were no chances taken when it came to losing the spell. Her eyes stayed on the image so there was no opportunity for it to disappear.
"I could stare at her forever," Hermione hummed.
"I'm wracked with indecision."
"Oh?"
His breath was hot against her forehead. She allowed her eyes to drift away from the image of her sleeping daughter to his inverted face above her head.
"I can't decide whom is the more beautiful. My girlfriend." He kissed her forehead. "Or my daughter."
He was so close. The scent of his pumpkin juice from lunch was still on his breath.
"You know…" Her fingers walked up the underside of his throat. "It has been a while since we practiced."
Draco smirked. "That it has."
Her cheeks flared a bright pink. "Would you like to?"
"Only on two conditions."
She elevated her brow in a playful tease. "Oh, yeah? And what are those?"
"One is that her last name is Malfoy. Only Malfoy."
"Deal." It was impossible to stop her smile. Who knew what was possible? There might be a time in the future when her own name was Malfoy. "And two?"
"Two, is that you only call me Drake when you want me to drop everything and kiss you."
"You like me calling you Drake that -."
There was no need for an answer. He kissed her long and deep until they forgot Hogwarts, and Gryffindor, and everything magical. All they remembered was that they were so in love that nothing could part them.