Christmas eve was the best day ever. It pained Hermione to admit, but it topped all the holidays before it with ease. The day was gorgeous. The weather pleasant. It was beautiful.
Of course, that was nothing compared to the annual party hosted by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy within their home in Wiltshire coined Malfoy Manor. It was fit for a queen whom she was surprised was not in attendance as everyone else important was invited.
Hermione was adorned with lots of attention and congratulations by people of infinite wisdom and popularity, all at levels of importance larger than her own. Narcissa ensured that Hermione was the center of attention all evening long.
Such attentions aided the connections of the Grangers and the Malfoys. There had been extreme hesitation on her father's part. The height at which the Malfoy's enjoyed life was far different than their own. A dentist made a fair living. It was not poverty. But, like all things with the Malfoy family, it did not compare.
Lucius and William were both rigid, upright men who kept their chins even with the floor. Narcissa was warm and welcoming, taking Stacey's arm like they were old friends, as she showed her around the beautiful Manor. Their happy chuckles sounded through the halls. Though Draco was absent from the tour. His duty was to entertain his guests as a pending heir to such a station.
She refused to be disappointed in his absence. There was so much to be blessed by.
An evergreen tree in every room. Mistletoe and holly and fresh garland. The bewitched ceiling birthed snow. It sparkled against her golden-brown curls like a veil of pure white, the imagery not lost on her. She fluffed the length and the white fell to the floor.
Everything was silver and blue, an icy hue to a warm holiday like Christmas. The Granger's were a red and green décor type of family. However, it was breathtaking. The Manor was decorated with pristine class. Clear cut and without exaggeration. A massive tree within the middle of the room was white with heaps of snow, as if left to the elements, and glittered with pale blue bulbs and silver tinsel wrapped around the belly. Candles glowed from within. Their hazy light glowed like a full moon in a cloudy night sky. The dance floor looked like a sheet of solid ice. Their feet even left white slices same as an ice skate would.
A parade of family members entered the doors with Narcissa at the head to a barrage of introduction to the relations. Draco tried to step in. His mother was unstoppable on her intent to have her grandchild and its mother boasted about to the whole ancestry.
First was Lucius' sister. Lucinda Comtois came all the way from France to attend. Her brother and she shared the same intense eyes with intimidating faces of complete indifference but the assumption of fine-point examination. Her words were common and polite.
Then there was Narcissa's sister, Andromeda Tonks, a healthy, hearty woman with a thundering laugh. She was the opposite of her younger sister. Where there was elegance and grace in Narcissa almost to a fault that was assumed cold natured, Andromeda was as warm without the crushing weight of properness. Her grip was tight as she shook Hermione's hand.
"Call me Mia," she said. "No one but Cissy over here calls me Andromeda. Every time I hear it, I think of being caught with my mother's wand in my hand." Her eyes flashed a vibrant wink.
It helped a bit of breath trickle into Hermione's tense lungs. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mia."
"Nope. No Mrs. Just Mia."
The witch waved off any attempt at formality. "Listen there, Hermione. You're going to be apart of the family now. We'll be seeing each other at functions, parties, around the city. I'd like to not feel like I've got to suck in my gut around you. If you call me Mistress Tonks or merlin forbid Andromeda, I'll feel like I've got to impress you and that it just won't be the same. Let's just address each other as friends, yeah?"
That was a strange arrangement that went against everything Hermione knew when speaking within the realm of the Malfoy's, but she did her duty and agreed to the terms of Andromeda Tonks.
Narcissa blushed incessantly until her sister passed. She leaned over, still with a smile on her face, and whispered, "She's an elected official for the werewolf territories of the country. It requires she be brash. Werewolves don't care for blarney."
They recovered by more introductions of distant cousins. There was only one recognizable face through the crowd of new acquaintances that excited her. It was Regulus, Sirius Black's younger brother. He was a handsome, young man with black wavy hair that matched his brothers. His face was thinner than that of his older brother, but it was clear that he was of the family Black.
He was surprised to find her there. His eyes opened wider, forehead wrinkled. "Hermione Granger at an event in Malfoy Manor. Wizards above! That is something. Just what did you do to earn an invitation in? Have you made some sort of discovery I wasn't aware of?"
"Not quite."
A further wrinkled brow read to his bafflement.
The witch at her side soothed out her dress. "Regulus, you know our Hermione?"
His brows twitched. Regulus had an excess of personality that was only overshadowed by Sirius. He liked to be cheeky. It took him seconds to recover from passing by a statement that warranted a slippery, humorous remark.
"I do. And just how do you know our Hermione?"
"Well." Narcissa forced a smile. "She happens to be with my son."
"Draco?"
There was no absence of doubt in his tone.
Sirius and Regulus Black were common the Potter household. They knew the Weasleys closely, as well. Only that summer had they spent the days at the Burrow with Hermione and Ron hand-in-hand.
"Yes. Draco and Hermione are actually expecting. This is her first introduction into the family," Narcissa explained.
It earned her look. He was only aware of Ronald Weasley as her boyfriend, not Draco Malfoy. She doubted he'd gotten the news yet.
"It's true." Her hand touched the swollen bump of her belly that was hidden by the empress waist dress crafted to flatter her rather than highlight the expansion. "I'm with child."
Regulus dipped his head. "Well, I suppose a congratulations are in order."
There came a poignant pause in the conversation. It was time for him to move on. There were other people in the line that Narcissa wanted to be introduced before night's end. The wandering gaze of the Black stumbled upon the urging gaze of the Malfoy Mistress. He tipped his hat and bid a farewell in hasty fashion.
It was forgotten. The night went on.
Pansy Parkinson strode through the welcoming line with her parents and older brothers, Aspen and Arlo. She was embodied in glittery robes that trailed behind her. The drastic black eyeshadow of her eye was eye-catching with winged liner and silver blue glitter below her brows.
"And these are our neighbors and close friends, the Parkinson's. No doubt you know Pansy. She's in your year."
Hermione nodded. "Course. It is nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson."
"And these are our sons -."
"Cissy!" a shriek interrupted the flow.
Narcissa was immediately grabbed at attention. She fled Hermione's side to tend to a witch with crazy curled hair, deep and black as night. They shared hushed words. There was great effort by Draco's mother to steer the witch clear, but the witch kept focused at the head of the line.
It was no leap to guess just to who it was. The witch was an exact copy of Andromeda, only thinner, with wilder wide eyes and unruly hair.
"Please, Bella. I thought you might be tired after your travels," she heard Narcissa say. "Let's away. We'll see you tomorrow for presents."
The tone was the most improper Narcissa had taken in front of Hermione. It captured all of Hermione's focus. Something made the proper witch forget herself. That was worth noting.
"What is this line?" The witch flicked her fingers lazily at the people. "You don't do lines. Lines in a party. Our mother taught us that. Disperse! Disperse I say!"
They breeched the front where the Parkinson family stood with Hermione. Her eyes flashed to her sister.
"Who's this little chippy?" The woman asked.
A thick sound cleared from the back of Narcissa's throat. "Hermione Granger, this is my sister, Bellatrix Black. Bella, this is Hermione, Draco's witch." She forced a lightness in through her mouth. "Bella is a world traveler. Been all over the globe she has. I didn't expect her until tomorrow morning."
The derisive snort erupted from the wild witch's nose only intensified the atmosphere that Hermione was unsure why was so tense in the first place. Her green eyes burned bright. It matched the creeping, crawling appraisal of their slow motion drag on Hermione's body.
Narcissa was not one to hold a gentle look in her eye. It was rather deadly. Her sister either pretended or ignored it.
A black boot peeked from below her black lace robes as it stepped forward. Flecks of mud tainted their leather.
"She's fairly pretty," Bellatrix pronounced suddenly. "Pudgy round the middle."
"That is because she's expecting," Narcissa hissed a warning.
"Expecting?" The witch echoed with a wave of shock and awe.
Hermione felt the instinct to wrap her arms around her womb to protect the growing child from whatever malice that spilled from the unusual witch's glare. She allowed a slow ascent. It looked natural. Pregnant woman cradled their bellies often. She saw it. There was nothing strange about it.
"Yes. Hermione is carrying Draco's child. Isn't it wonderful, Bella? A Gryfferin in the making." Narcissa giggled lightly at her joke. It faded when Bella's wild gaze found hers. "You know. Because our Draco is a Slytherin and Hermione is a Gryffindor. Gryfferin."
Whatever was said, it was not alright. Bellatrix's jaw clenched as did the fists at her sides.
"I don't like her," she announced.
A blush burned bright. "Bella, please. Remember yourself."
"Gryffindors are the scum of this world. I spit on them."
Out of nowhere, Pansy appeared at Hermione's side with a smooth hand on her wrist. "Let's go find us some punch."
It was a welcome reprieve. The idea of being spit on by Narcissa sister brought many issues to the surface. One being how disrespectful it would be to curse Draco's aunt at a party, but also, how nice it might feel to do so.
Hermione shifted awkwardly under the thick gaze of the witch. "Um, alright."
Pansy swirled away. She kept a hand on Hermione as they found their way to a refreshment table. A punch bowl sculpted of thick, clear ice held the bright red juice. She found a pair of goblets and handed one over to her friend.
"Quite a family you've chosen." Pansy spoke below the tone of the room. It required Hermione lean closer to hear.
"Who was that woman?"
They found an isolated corner. It was overlooked by light, a perfect spot for private congress. It relieved the pressure of the spotlight that crashed down on Hermione all night as the main guest of the event.
She sipped from the goblet. The moment the punch hit her tastebuds she realized the thirst within. Her cup emptied before Pansy had bothered to smear gloss on the rim.
"Every family has one," the witch said. "Always. And this is theirs. Narcissa's eldest sister, Bellatrix Black."
The name was unknown. As was her face.
The crowd was dense through the dance floor. The line of sight to the hostess and her sister was blocked by a gaggle of numerous witches and wizards and the only two muggles within the room, her parents. They were dancing, laughing, meeting new people. She was glad they hadn't noticed the disruption. Her father would have been insulted.
"Sirius has never mentioned Bellatrix."
"They don't get on," Pansy explained. "None of them do. Not really. Narcissa tries her best, but her sister is a bit mental."
She frowned. Draco never mentioned his aunt. She supposed he was sensitive to the fact that her mental faculties weren't what they were supposed to be.
"She's not mad in a clinical sense. Only that her tastes are for things fouler. You know, of the political sabotage variety."
Hermione's eyes doubled in size. "What? The Ministry of Magic doesn't do that."
A knowing look subsided the shock. Of course, they did. Every country was full of spies.
At long last, Pansy sipped from her goblet.
"What do you know?"
"You want me to tell you everything?" The slender arched brow arched even higher on her face. "Then you must swear to never utter a word of it. News like this is traced. Traced through their networks It is the realm of the aristocracy. Nothing is secret. Everything is leverage. But it comes at a price. If you tell anyone, they'll discover it was from the Parkinson's, and we'll never be trusted again."
That did not sound like a fun web to be apart of. Always watching their back, never settled, afraid of what word might turn them in. It reminded her of the tension through Gryffindor table.
Honesty was a better policy than all that.
Still, she wanted to know the mystery of Draco's aunt.
"I won't tell." She agreed.
"My father has an office on the top floor of our house. He wants the view to impress his visitors and whatnot. And I used to play in the attic as a girl. There are treasures up in those rafters just forgotten by my family. Anyway, I was up there doing the usual surveillance of the heirlooms when I heard my father from inside his office. He was in council with Lucius Malfoy. He said that Bellatrix was really a spy for the Ministry. They had been using her for years to do their dirty work. You know that headless, fingerless corpse they found in Bulgaria? Her handywork. She found a little leak of information within their Ministry to a private citizen in Bulgaria who in turn used it to sell their papers. It was Bellatrix who found the man and did whatever she did to him before his body was found."
It was a sick feeling. She'd come so close to a monster.
"That isn't even the scandalous thing in Bellatrix's past," Pansy snorted.
"What could be more than murder?"
There was not a single thing more horrendous than murder. Even if he was a traitor, he had the right to his life. They were not barbaric.
"The reason she don't like Gryffindors."
Hermione deflated. "There are plenty who don't. I wouldn't say I'm a huge fan of them at the moment, being their latest prey."
"Truth is, something else changed her mind about them. All of the sudden, she can't stand them. Any Gryffindor is cut off. She won't speak to them or hear of them speaking to her."
"She's hardly the first to be that way," she replied flatly. "There are many with house bias."
The Malfoys ushered the witch away with all their persistence. Their eyes scanned to ensure it was out of sight. Hermione only saw through the part in the crowd as Bellatrix was pushed deeper into the house and away from the party. Draco was not among them. He was off with his friends Goyle and Crabbe not so secretly listening to a Quidditch match of Appleby Arrows and the Montrose Magpies.
"Her family tried to hide the fact that she was pregnant outside of marriage," Pansy said with a raised brow. "They went to great lengths to disguise it in fact. What a dishonor. Truly, a black mark against any family."
The tone did not settle Hermione's belly. Her daughter did flips amongst the tissues, a sign of her tension.
"That does not sound like the Narcissa I know. She's been so supportive of me and Draco."
"Not that!" Pansy touched her wrist. "They're over the moon about you two, Merlin's sake. Bellatrix's situation is different. It was rumored that she was impregnated by a married man."
That made Hermione gasp. "An affair?"
"That resulted in the birth of Delphi Black, a little witch who lives with a witch called Euphemia Rowle up north. She was given to Euphemia right around the time that Bellatrix was no longer swollen like a watermelon. It was easy to put it together. I don't know why they bothered with a pathetic coverup. Everyone knows."
"I can't believe they'd usher the child away like that." It was sad to think that it was a similar circumstance as she was. Her own daughter to be shipped off with a friend unknown to the world or her parents. What a retched life. So sad that it made her filled with disgust.
Her hands touched the swell of her belly. She knew that her child would never meet such an end. She was loved so deeply. Draco loved their daughter already. He was obsessed. He loved to touch the growing expansion flat which housed his child.
It was good to know that in the end of it all, Draco would not let their child be forgotten.
"Bellatrix hated the baby. She wanted nothing to do with her when she was born. Just looking at her made her furious enough to curse someone."
"Her own child?" Again, her jaw dropped.
"Delphini was born with a hair full of vibrant red hair."
Vibrant red hair?
"It apparently reminded her of the father that promised to leave his wife and didn't." Pansy's lips pursed together with two large eyes.
Oh. Vibrant red hair, affair, Ministry. Hermione knew why she hated Gryffindors. When their eyes collided, she guessed that Pansy knew it, too.
It was a Weasley!
Her eyes grew twice as large. Pansy nodded in confirmation. Bellatrix daughter was of Arthur Weasley's genes.
"Oh Merlin." Hermione breathed.
"Hermione," a voice called. It was suddenly near.
She jumped and spilled her punch down the front of her dress. It soaked through instantly. Sticky liquid coated Hermione's belly and thighs.
Her mother held her breath. "Oh, dove. I'm so sorry. Aw, look at your dress! It's ruined."
"Allow me," Pansy declared. The subtle wave of her wand vanquished the punch away. It was removed of her flesh and the fibers. Soon enough, the dress was impeccable.
Stacy Granger grinned. "Brilliant. Thank you. Hermione, Narcissa has someone she's dying for you to meet. Come, come."
"Remember your promise. Not a word," Pansy whispered as a final goodbye.
Hermione was ushered away into the fray, to forget the nonsense of Bellatrix Black and Arthur Weasley. It was easily done. The diversions of a beautiful party with flowing lights and endless laughs was the place in which thoughts bubbled away through the course of it.
By the end of the night, Stacey and Narcissa had planned a shopping trip and a stop at a café in the city. It was met with the eventual convincing of their husbands to join them. Both men were less than enthusiastic but obliged their wives.
Draco beamed with joy. They were finally joined. His eyes shimmered under the blue holiday lights as they passed on their carriage pulled by two snow white horses. They rose through the grounds under cover of a dense blanket. He held her close. She nuzzled in.
The light playful white rained down on them as their journey on the Malfoy estate grounds took them farther and farther from the house. There were twinkling lights above their heads like stars, until they fell down on shimmering strings to just graze the tip of their noses. Candy stripes lined the horses' trail. They swirled as the carriage passed. There were trees of pure light. Fantastic popping snowflakes that smelled like peppermint. Hot cocoa cups appeared within the carriage. It warmed Hermione's hands to hold.
She refused to leave the cradle of his side; it was the only time alone they got all night.
Lucius and Narcissa supplied two guest suites for the Granger's since the party last well into the early morning hours and a drive back into the city was too long. Hermione was given an ocean blue room with a king sized bed, a private loo, the dazzling show outside the window of the holiday lights all aglow on the stretching lawns, and a cupboard full of pajamas of every size and style and color. Many were made of satin. The moment her fingers collided with their sooth finish, she had to slip inside them. She chose pastel pink.
Just as she had finished her buttons (luckily the clothes were armed with a charm to conform to her bump), the door quietly slid open. A figure of black emerged. It was topped with brilliant blonde hair.
"I might have been nude," she chastised.
It was lucky that it was dimly lit or her cherry red blush might have given him a clue that she was more than excited to see him.
A finger went to his lips. "Sh. Do you want to wake the whole place?"
She rolled her eyes. An ancient house as that was well warded. Every suite was given a privacy charm, no doubt. It would be unseemly to have the unusual noises of a guests nightly or daily activities flow into the atmosphere of the house.
"Thought you were so exhausted you had to retire."
"I was," he replied stealing a kiss. "I am exhausted of partying. But I'm not tired of you. We've barely had time at all since my mother paraded you around all night." He appraised the length of her body. "Nice jammies."
"Thanks. They're actually from your parents. Your mother, I suspect."
"Ah, well. She knows your colors. Yeah, my mother has been preparing this suite ever since she got the news," Draco commented. His arms snaked their way around her expanding body. The smell of his freshly washed hair filled her nostrils with his honey shampoo. "It has come a long way from being her chambers. I prefer it this way than the rose gold and champagne."
"Her chambers," she echoed. "Your mother used to live here?"
He nodded. "When she courted my father, yeah. The next mistress of Malfoy Manor always takes this suite before the master. After they're married. My mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and so on."
Mistress of Malfoy Manor.
Her strength waivered. She looked around the fabulous furnishings and welcoming allure. It was made for her. Meant for her. But, something was not right.
"I'm honored your parents would deem me worthy of it," Hermione replied. "They've been so kind to me. It makes me feel guilty."
Draco liked to nuzzle his face in her hair. He rubbed his nose through the loose curls, burying his face in the scent of her almond shampoo, and holding her close.
"Guilty?" He murmured throughout the strands of her hair. One forgotten pin in her hair poked his nose. His gentle fingers removed it. The small thing was tossed atop chest of drawers, it's soft clatter the only sound within the house. "It is no bother. We can afford it."
She shook her head. "No. It isn't that."
Rigidity summoned up through his limbs. They clenched her taut and refused to move.
"Then what is it?"
"I just…"
"What?" He barked, softly though. "You just what?"
"I don't belong here," she said.
He exhaled a long breath. "It may take a while, but you will acclimate to the wealth. I know it is a lot to take in all at once."
The wealth? Merlin, that was the last of her worries. Well, not last. But not the first either.
"No. I mean, I don't belong here, at this station in your house. I'm a fraud, an intruder. All these people came here to meet the witch you want as part of their lives, the next to continue the line of Malfoys, and I am not that witch."
Draco Malfoy deserved a witch with honor and dignity. It was expected of his house, his family, his station within the world. She would ruin all that. He was born with endless hope on the horizon, every horizon in every direction in which she looked.
A night of joy and pure enthrallment, she felt the surge of love within her. She knew it was there. Her heart thudded each time he entered a room or caught her gaze. There was no part of her that wasn't obsessed with the way he cared for her. It was mythical, mystical, pure magic. Unbelievable and intangible. But the way the baby danced within her womb at his proximity only spoke to the bodily response to him.
He was everything that was right with the world and that was why she had to let him go.
"You're not an intruder!" He roughly took her hands and held them in his. "How can you say that?"
"This belongs to another witch. It all belongs to someone else who isn't just a witch who needed help to escape a tosser," she explained. "The only reason we became anything is because I was pregnant, and you felt compelled to save me. It was noble. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know, but I can't take this away from you. You should have chosen a witch for this suite on your own, without influence."
She tried to revoke her hands, but his held too tightly. His eyes burned holes through her face, the lack of her eyes in his only fueled their fires brighter against the flesh.
"I told you it was just us. No one else."
"That's because there can't be. Your parents won't allow another witch with me in the picture," she retorted. With a breath, she told him of her plan. "If you tell them the truth, explain the lie, they'll forgive you. They'll let you forget all this."
"Stop it, Hermione. You know I won't do that."
"Don't feel guilty about me. I'll make do. I can face the consequences of my decision."
He shook his head, in disbelief with himself and her.
His voice fell low. "Why are you saying this? Is it because – because you love Weasel? Do you want to go back to him?"
It almost felt awful enough to bring sobs to her chest at the sound of his voice. Her eyes filled with water as her lips sputtered around for the right way to explain just why they had to part. It took a few silent deep breaths before they came out in coherent thought.
"Nothing on this planet repulses me more than Ronald. I can't even begin to document all the ways I'd like to hurt him." She allowed herself to swallow back all the horrendous names she thought to call him instead of Ronald. His formal name was all she could do to keep her anger in check. If she were to call him 'Ron' and remember all the memories of their friendship soured by his recent behavior, it might start a revenge pyre that she would quench with his humiliation. "No. It is not Ron."
"Then who? Who is it that makes you say these things?"
Her lips quivered. "You. You are. You," she swallowed again. The rising tide of sadness was near the edge. "You have so many choices in life. I can't force this choice onto you."
His lips scowled. The tone of his voice dropped to a rumbling growl. "What the hell are you talking about? I chose. I chose you! I chose you first year. I chose you after you dated that idiot. I chose you after Yule Ball. I chose you year after year until it was your time to choose me. Don't you understand? This was always my plan. I wanted Hermione Granger, the unstoppable genius. The witch who stunned everyone at Yule and still had to watch her end the night in tears because of some no-good wizard who didn't deserve her. Open your eyes, Granger." He swallowed. "Now stop pushing me away and tell me you love me."
Tears fell from her eyes. She made no attempt to wipe them away. They were beautiful and pitiful all at once and she had to feel them to ensure the moment was real. It was. He was there, in front of her.
It was a clambering effort to be in his arms, but she managed to wedge her awkwardly shaped body flush with his and sob into his shirt like a frightened child. He was silent as she did. His hands smoothed her hair. The rate of his breath helped calm hers.
A damp, rugged smear spread across the front of his shirt. She tried to wipe it away.
"Oh, no." She dragged her palms against his torso.
"Leave it," he murmured. "It doesn't matter."
Her shiny wet eyes looked up at his. "I love you, Drake."
The faint outline of his lips through the fading light twisted to a small smile. "I love you, love."
He kissed her deeply. Their lips tangled in the drenched need of love.
They ended their night cuddled together in a bed of silken white sheets. He laid on his back with her curled into the divot of his shoulder. His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair as they laid there late into the night.
The rest of their holiday was spent with their families. They Owl'd constantly. Hermione missed him with the aching of her heart. Being away from someone she connected with every day was harder than she thought.
No. Someone she loved. Someone she loved, every day.
That was an odd taste in her mouth. She loved Draco. The words still felt foreign. The same word that she once said to Ron was now the word she used to express her feelings for Draco. They were impossible to compare. Emotions she had for Ronald Weasley were minimal, at best. A teaspoon. Whereas Draco Malfoy, the was the cup, the pitcher, the wagon load.
It was on the last day before holiday end that she was surprised by a visit from a Hogwarts friend, but not one she expected.
Her parents had popped out for a trip to the market. So, Hermione had done a morning of pampering. She deep conditioned her hair, took a long bubble bath, lotioned herself top to bottom, and ended it with a facial mud mask. It was a deep green. The bottle said it required twenty minutes up to one hour to really reap the benefits of the mud.
Time at home had done her well. She was virtually free of her morning sickness. Her mind felt clearer, less dizzy. An appetite had yet to emerge other than the honest hunger at mealtimes. She expected a large uptick in her daily consumption given the fact that her belly kept growing.
Hermione wore a thin camisole and a pair of matching faux silk shorts beneath a fluffy coral robe as she read her book with a cup of tea in her hand. An overlooked scone was on the table losing its warmth with each passing sentence. She'd forgotten all about the worries that plagued her every day. All in all, a wonderful time.
Then the bell rang.
She rose up without concern. The ring was bound to be Mrs. Adelman from next door. She liked to visit Stacey Granger for the fresh baked scones since Mrs. Adelman's joints were too stiff to roll out the dough anymore. The poor woman liked to pretend it was for the company, but it was clear by the joy in her eyes as she nibbled on the crumbly pastry that she was after a piece of home cooked goods that reminded her of better times.
Hermione wasn't concerned about her appearance when she swung the door open. It only happened to shock her that a little woman with gray gurls wasn't on the stoop. It was Harry Potter!
"Harry?" She pulled her robe closed tight against her chest. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "My parents went to visit the Dudley's so I thought I might pop in and - ."
"Avoid the visit?" Her brow lifted.
She never approved of his muggle family members. They sounded selfish. However, she didn't like being a convenient excuse for him to avoid them either. She was a person. Not an object to be used.
"They only stopped for tea," Harry pleaded. "It won't be long. Besides, it's been a while since we've talked. We missed you in Godric's Hollow this holiday. Sirius and Remus asked about you."
"I'm sure Ron set them straight seeing as he can't keep his mouth shut about what a whore I am."
"He didn't."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come in. Only for a bit, though. I don't want my parents catching sight of you and asking questions. It's difficult enough already."
The brunette stepped inside. He was familiar with the Granger's home. He spent plenty of time on holiday with Ron and Hermione that their homes were just as comfortable as his own. The wizard removed his shoes at the door.
Hermione flopped onto her parent's sofa. He took the other side.
It was a sunny day despite the dead of winter. Sun rained in through the opened windows with brilliance. Malfoy Manor had to be so gorgeous in the open sunlight. Flowers that lined the house were in bloom year round. Their large flowers spread large, damp from morning dew, vibrant colors of every shade.
Draco invited her around, but she decided some time with her parents was more important. If only she'd known about Harry's little visit, she'd have left for Malfoy Manor just to avoid it.
Harry rubbed the smudges off his glasses with the edge of his shirt. It left a residue. His eyes crossed a little as he appraised the damage.
It bothered her to no end.
"Is there a reason you've come here?" She snapped. "If so, get to it quickly. I'm terribly busy."
"Mione. You're in a bathrobe with stuff on your face. How busy can you be?"
Godric bloody damn hell, she forgot about the mud mask.
She grunted in frustration as she made her way to the kitchen tap to vigorously remove the gunk from her face. "I happen to be very busy, Harry Potter. Growing limbs, making blood, and carrying around a 20-centimeter uterus filled with fluid!"
The ice-cold water stung her cheeks. Rivers of fluid cut down the sides of her neck as she splashed the water against her face in an uncouth fashion. The towel patted across her forehead, down her nose, all the way to her chest where some of the murky green water had trickled. She tossed the thing to the ground.
"At least it looks good on you," he said.
She scoffed. "I've been starving for four straight months."
"You can't tell."
Her foot suddenly stomped against the ground. "Damn it, Harry. You can't do this to me. Yo-you were my friend, too. Not just Ron's. You should have been there for me. I was the one who needed you. Needed you. You can't just come back here like nothing is wrong because no one at school can see. It is as empty as my interest in talking to you."
There were days when she pleaded with Merlin and Godric Gryffindor that Harry might find her alone and explain his reasoning for not helping her. She thought up all sorts of excuses he might say that she'd accept: Ron blackmailed him, he was being bullied too, Ron lied about what happened between them. None of those were realistic. She knew Ron wasn't like that with Harry. He respected him.
Back then, she would have accepted it though. She was so desperate for friendship in those lonely days. Before Draco came along and when Gryffindor all turned on her, Harry was the one she needed to get through.
All those years she took for granted what strength that came from having friends. It was harder to be strong when there was no one else in the world who supported you, believed in you, was there to stand by your side. Sure, it was easy to say that she was weak. It was a light finger to lift in blame.
The more intimate look was a cloudy sight. The strain to identify what was the cause.
Hermione was stronger with a pack. Her pride, once the lions of Hogwarts. They rose to her sides at the slightest provocation. Words flowed easier when she knew there was little fight from opponents. A firm resolve formed under the pressure of a thousand other resolves bound in blood and family and friendship and alliance with one another.
There was no mystery as to why the strong relied on others; it was their epicenter.
"I thought you might like some company," Harry said innocently.
As if she needed his! She hadn't gotten it all term. Now, suddenly, she was supposed to be thankful for his notice.
"Honestly! Don't you think it's a bit late for your company? I've moved on from it."
"I didn't come for a fight, Mione, alright? You don't have to take out the claws with me. Things haven't been easy for me either. All I've heard is Ron bitch about all term is you and your bloody baby."
She held a feign frown in pathetic sadness as he painted himself in. "Aw. I'm sorry. That must have been so difficult for you. All that bitching must have ruined your life."
He did not appreciate her mocking. His hand tossed a sofa pillow off the edge.
Harry Potter was not an angry person. Laidback, supportive, quiet, a bit lazy. But angry? No.
Her eyes rolled. "Get out, Harry. Just leave. I haven't got the time for cheap theatrics and your sob story. It may have escaped your notice, but my problems are a bit more important than the petty complaints about Ronald's spewing filth."
"I came to make amends. Amends. For Ron. He wants to make things right so that things can go back to the way they were. Just the three of us."
"You couldn't possibly think I'd be interested in that."
"Come on, Mione. Like old times. No more Draco and Slytherin. Aren't you sick of them already? I'm sure McGonagall would let you move back into Gryffindor Tower. We can stay up late studying by the fire again and listening to the wizard's chess games. Let it be the way it was. Before. You can come back."
There was no going back.
Their lives were forever changed. A child changed her whole world as well as the ones around her. Harry did not see how much. He only felt the difference as it affected himself. Not her.
A being depended upon her for everything from nourishment to protection to love to comfort. Deep within her loins was a cluster of cells growing strength every day. It would enter the world just as fragile as it was in the womb and require her every second of the day for months. All her concentration, all her focus, all her concern, only occupied by her child. Not a soul else mattered. Except Draco, of course.
Hermione let the realization find itself in soft touches throughout her until she was let to the truth of the matter: she'd outgrown Gryffindor. She'd outgrown Harry.
She touched his shoulder. "Harry. There is no back."
"Just come back," he said. "Things will be the same."
"No." She shook her head. His eyes were not wide enough. "No. They won't. My life is not the same. I'm going to be a mum. A mum, Harry. That is beyond Gryffindor Tower and Ron and studying by the fire. I've got a future to worry about. Money and a career and childcare and nappy prices and baby-proofing and breastfeeding and sleepless nights and teething and toilet training. That is all that will be. No more sneaking around the castle or Quidditch. No more making sure you and Ron pass your classes. It is all gone."
It was unclear whether he'd truly considered the fact of her pregnancy fully, whether he realized that a child would exit her and live with her. He blinked quite a few times. His green eyes wrapped in a haze as he processed the information.
"Oh." His voice echoed.
She gave him a pat. "Go on. The time has come for us to part."
Her mind bitterly reminded her that their parting happened months prior, the wizard was too thick to realize it.
Harry shuffled awkwardly back through the house he once knew as a friend's home back to a doorway that would likely never welcome him again. He might have thought it. She did. She watched his feet slip into his shoes against her parent's vinyl flooring and let the memory seep into her mind. It would be the one thing she remembered Harry Potter for. He was a good enough friend, if no one disputed it.
Her parents returned an hour after Harry left. They gave her hugs tighter than she remembered them ever giving.
Her mother made a favorite meal of roasted ham and rosemary potatoes. They all dined together in a farewell meal followed by scoops of ice cream in front of the telly. It was the late hours of the night that they all decided to turn in. The morning was greeted with the remorseful light of Hogwarts return.
Hermione was packed and ready. Stacey and William gave cheerful smiles forced to their max. As if she didn't know how they felt.
"It's going to be alright," she promised. "I'm looking forward to going back to Hogwarts. My timetable has many interesting classes. Gryffindor leaves me alone. And Lucius and Narcissa have made sure all my needs will be taken care of. Draco won't let anything slip through."
She held her father tighter. His heavy weight against her shoulders made her calm.
"We know, dove. We know." Her mother sniffled. "Draco has been a godsend, hasn't he?"
"He has," Hermione confirmed. "He cares for me deeply. And the baby. He's going to be such a father."
William lifted a bushy brow. His beady eye visible for a moment. "Indeed."
"Don't you like him, Daddy? He does nothing but cater to me. It is entirely too much."
"You deserve too much."
They loaded into the car. Her trunk filled the boot entirely. She was allowed a seat in the front as it was easier. Her mother slipped into the back, legs stretched out over the back seats as they drove to the platform.
"The wizard is very smitten with you," Stacey Granger added.
Her daughter flushed pink and tried to avoid the statement as best she could. "The Malfoys dote on me so. They have a form submitted to the headmaster so that I'll be given leave to Malfoy Manor to deliver the baby. It's the only way to have you there for the birth. They weren't going to let you be there otherwise."
"Its safe to say the whole lot of them Malfoys are smitten with you." Her dad chuckled.
"Dad," she groaned. Her head rolled back against the seat. "Don't you start too."
"It is nothing to be embarrassed about. You are only pregnant with his child. It's safe to be sweet on the boy," he answered.
The conversation roused her mother's attention whole heartedly. She rose from occupying all the seats in the back end of the car to fully erect and face right between the front seats. Her excited glee made Hermione cringe.
It was only by fate that it was done in the protection of a private car than in the crowded platform.
"Did he tell you how he felt on holiday?" She asked.
Hermione's turned fifty shades of mortified. "Mum! Please."
"Oi. What are you on about?" William asked, looking away from the road to gaze at his wife.
She tapped his shoulder. "Narcissa said that Draco's been in love with Hermione for years. She saw him nervously pacing around all holiday long. She thought he might say the 'L' word."
The 'L' word was not for public spectacle. Good grief. They'd only just admitted to themselves that they loved each other, now the whole world knew.
"The 'L' word?" Hermione snickered. "What am I? Five? I can say the word love you know."
That was the last bit of dignity she had.
Her mother and father were all too pleased with themselves. The way they smiled with their tongue in cheek made Hermione sick. She crossed her arms tight against herself to block out their probing gazes.
She'd never do this to her own daughter. It was bound to haunt Hermione for days. Their twinkling eyes like they'd just discovered state secrets. The devils. No. She couldn't dare to look at them.
The car was filled with the tunes of the radio that she adjusted loud enough so conversation was not encouraged. It provided a lovely noise to silence the rumbling of her thoughts. There was no denying that returning to Hogwarts was going to be different this time around. Her belly would grow larger than a turkey and she'd walk around like she'd been stuffed the same.
There would be the horrid thought of breaking her water in class. For all to see.
Godric, just the image of Professor Snape's face alone made her hope and pray and plead to Merlin that it would happen anywhere else except Potions. She'd never feel the same after having a professor watch the inner contents of her body spill on the floor in a bloody mess.
The music fell low. Awareness came back to her mind.
"Have you thought of any names?" Her mother asked. "I've had a few that I think you'll enjoy."
Hermione adjusted in her seat. "Let's hear them. I've had a few but I'm not in love with them yet."
"Pandora I thought sounded cute. You know. From that Pandora's box thingy."
Her brow flew off her face and into traffic. "You mean, the end of the world Pandora thing?"
"It was just a suggestion," Stacey huffed. She was disappointed by the unbridled critique. "I've got more. Hally, Celeste, Gaia, Hazel, Juno. Oh, I love that one. Juno Malfoy. It is very darling."
They weren't awful, per se. It just didn't ring well.
None felt worthy of a Malfoy name. The weight of their father's house would crush little flimsy names. It had to be solid and strong. A name that held as much as honor and mystique as Draco's did.
Her father frowned. "Bit odd, aren't they? Sound like they're apart of the Spice Girls, only in space. Space Girls."
"Well, then William," her mother hissed through her teeth. "What names would you suggest?"
"Ruth. Ida. Alice. Katherine. Phillipa. Agatha."
"Agatha? You've got to be joking."
William shrugged. "What? It's a pretty name."
"It also happens to be the name of your first girlfriend."
"That was thirty years ago!"
King's Cross station came into view. They were almost to the platform. Hermione had felt tense to return, but now with the heat of the car building over baby names, she'd never felt happier to see the building. She distracted their discussion to bring it into focus.
They parked. The trunk was unloaded onto a trolley. It was a familiar path they wore before. Years and years of returning to the same platform after entering the same wall in the train station. It brought them to the platform where all the little witches and wizards gathered with their parents to await the departure of the red Hogwarts Express.
Through the jumble of people, the Granger's found the Malfoy's.
Narcissa took to a regal and stoic greeting though the light behind her eyes said she was more than thrilled. Lucius, too, seemed to hold a more relaxed form to his face.
Hermione had planned a Christmas present for the pair of them. She had found a way to capture an image of the baby within her stomach. It was framed in a pink frame with the word 'witch' adorned in shiny rhinestones. She asked Draco to present it to them Christmas morning as a surprise.
Neither of them revealed to their parents that they had seen the baby or knew the gender.
According to all reports, his mother was so ecstatic that she broke down in tears over it. She placed it front and center on the mantle in their parlor so they might look at it with ease. Draco wrote that he saw his father gazing at it more than once with a less than dry eye.
The news at the Granger household was taken in a different way. Her father was shocked that, yet another girl was entering his life.
He'd been ready for football and cricket and trucks and all the things that little boys loved to do. It was the not-so-secret desire he'd had. A grandson. Someone to finally do the boy things with.
None the less, they were all very happy.
Draco took her in his arms, albeit at a proper distance. An audience of their peers and parents gave a stilted exchange on the platform. He still whispered in her ear how much he missed her, and it was relief that they were joined again.
Not long after, they were in the private carriage on the train with Goyle and Crabbe on the way out of London and into the bogs of Scotland.