"Will you pl-EASE," his voice took on a high pitch, "put the book down."
Draco Malfoy paced at the edge of the bed. His footsteps wore a tired path on the same floorboards as they had for an entire hour previous. The melody of creaking, a song that was overplayed to the ear.
A book lowered from a tired face.
"I've got to study. Exams are only a week away," Hermione Granger said. Her eyes dipped down to Draco's pacing legs. He was wasting time. "Honestly, you should study as well."
He stopped. The look on his face of pure bafflement.
"I'm a little busy at the moment." He scoffed. "As are you. You are in labor!"
"Labor takes -." Her voice cut off at the emergence of a sharp wave building in her body. She felt muscle after muscle tense to the point of breaking, indescribable pain rampaged through the tender, stretched tissues. Her jaw clenched taut. Deep breaths steamed from her nostrils as she tried to remember to breathe through the pain. Breathe through it? What kind of dolt thought of that?! It didn't help. Not one bit. It still hurt!
The slender blonde froze in place. A frightening glimmer crossed his eyes as he watched her endure the pain. His hand reached out and touched the only place he could. Her foot. It put pressure, awareness, to the one part that didn't hurt.
Her eyes aligned with his. The comfort from his presence helped even out her breaths.
A door opened behind them. Neither bothered to look. They were trapped together until the wave passed.
"Was that another one?' Narcissa questioned as she placed a basin of steaming water on the bedside table. Two flannels were dipped inside it and placed on the underside of Hermione's belly. It was nice to have a bit of heat that wasn't boiling up from her loins.
Draco nodded. His face fallen hollow and pale. Paler at least.
"Yes," he breathed. The tension in his neck showed a visible swallow through his throat. "Are they supposed to be that strong?"
Through the recovery of her strong contraction, her gasping breath was able to squeak out, "I'm fine, Draco. They're supposed to be that and stronger."
"Stronger?"
"Don't you remember a thing Professor Burbage taught us?"
"A life is entering the world," Narcissa hummed. "It takes a little pain to be given a beauty."
His mother's kind eyes regarded the witch with a soft smile. They both knew that anxiety it gave Draco to see her in pain. It plagued everyone. But the process was worth the reward. Soon their baby would be born to the world, and all woes forgotten. It would only be hell for a little while.
"Darling," her soft voice sang. The pacing had driven her to the most polite edge she had. It was nice to know that Narcissa knew what it meant to be annoyed. A strange thing, yes. But it comforted Hermione. "Rest. Please. You're going to need it. She might go well into the wee hours of the morning."
"I cannot leave her like this," Draco breathed.
'Like this' was an overstatement. She'd returned to studying her book. Her eyes scanned over the pages, fingers flipped the edges, not a second lost.
It was the middle of May. Exams were so close. It was the worst possible time to deliver a child. There would be little sleep those two weeks remaining, between a newborn and the all-important exams.
The possibility that Draco and Hermione would ever see one another was slim, too. He had his own studies, classes, exams to take. Plus, he was required to sleep in the Slytherin dormitory. That left no time for Hermione or their newborn.
It would be a challenge, she knew, to be alone. A new mum with no experience and no sleep and all the stress of the world was bound to be a tough spot. Luckily, she knew that she had the strength to withstand it.
"She's going to be like this for a while," Narcissa explained. "A brief nap will not warrant much change."
"You're going to tell me to rest to keep my strength when the witch actually birthing the child is buried nose deep in a book that she's been frantically reading for two weeks already."
Narcissa glanced down at the witch with a knowing face. "For all his stubbornness, he is right, my dear. You need rest."
Was it an inappropriate request? Of course not.
In fact, it made perfect sense. Labor required all her energy to push a baby from her lady bits. She needed all she could get. However, the fact that exams were so close made her willingness to stop studying rather small. Exams were the single most important thing in her education. If she did not pass, she had no hopes of continuing within the wizarding world. She'd have to have her memories erased, her life stolen away, all the confidence that came from the harnessing of her magical powers, would be ripped from her mind.
Hermione did not know what would happen if she was Obliviated. She was certain that it would create a person she loathed to be.
She glanced down at the inflated, overly large stomach. That little being inside might be taken from her. If she failed to become a proper witch, her daughter, Caprica Skye, would be given to the Malfoy's. All knowledge of her own child, gone.
Even Draco. That made her even more heartbroken. His pale eyes and precious kiss. She did not want to live without knowing those.
"Honestly, I'm fine. Brilliant, even. I took a nap earlier. I'm right as rain."
"You forget that I also took a nap," Draco pointed out. "Remember? You woke me up so if anything, I'm more rested than you."
Hermione's cheeks flushed. The peering presence of Narcissa Malfoy made them burn hotter. Especially after the surprised arch in her brow.
They were not permitted to sleep together. In Malfoy Manor or Hogwarts. It was a rule. A rule that Draco apparently forgot.
Luckily Narcissa was too well-bred to mention it.
"Please rest. The pair of you." Her pale eyes glanced at the witch laid up in bed. "You'll need your strength for what is to come."
It was delivered in that tone that invoked reaction, even if it was not from one's own parent, a child knew it as an order. The spark at the back of Hermione's throat was choked by the respect of one's elders and she lowered the book in defeat, knowing full well that the witch was right. The worst was yet to come. Exhaustion upon pain mixed with fear and thrill.
"Fine." She sighed.
Draco nodded. "Agreed."
Narcissa trailed toward the door, angling her body as if she expected a companion as she walked out, and when she turned to look at her own son, the absence stumbled her pace. She turned on heel to watch his body slide into a sofa too short for his length.
Her expression remained unbroken; the beauty not lost to the ugliness of confusion. "Darling?"
"The sofa suits," he answered with a low grumbling growl. His shortness evident of his frustration. "Wouldn't want to miss the birth of my child wrapped in a blanket down the hall, would I?"
Although her trained poise did not break, a small shift happened with Narcissa's eyes. A heart breaking.
It happened often when Draco chose Hermione, in his blunt, rather rude way.
Narcissa was still wounded by the hiding of the relationship. Many times Hermione wished to explain their divide away. Only, it would cause more problems than solve.
Hermione had been more than willing to risk it. Draco was not. He forbid it.
Had Ronald ever forbid her from doing something, Hermione would have done it out of spite. Draco was different. She respected his reasons, as she knew they were well formed in his mind and granted his choices the respect of her acceptance.
He didn't forbid speaking of it, though. To his loss.
"You should be gentler to her," Hermione said.
His face was smashed against the arm of the sofa in an awkward position. "Hermione." He groaned. "Please let it be."
"She's been so supportive of you. Of this. You couldn't ask for a better mum."
"Oh, yes I could." He pulled a too short throw blanket over his shoulders. He fussed with it as long as he could. His frustration mounted when he was forced to curl into a ball to cover himself under the piece of fleece.
The mood was from the start of her labor pains, only growing with the pain within her womb. His nerves were exposed. Their raw vulnerability made Draco an angered dragon. It was not smoke that blew from his mouth, but fire. Pure red-hot flame.
He'd almost lost in on Madame Pomphrey who forced them to wait for permission to apparate to Malfoy Manor. If Hermione hadn't held onto his arm, she was certain he'd have drawn his wand.
The scowl on his face deepened when he yet again was left with an exposed body part. She sighed and flipped open her own blankets of her overly large bed.
"Come here, Drake."
His grey eyes could have pierced her flesh. "Don't call me that right now. I can't - ." He shook his head. "I can't."
"It is only the first sign of hesitation. It's about time."
She'd intended it as humor to diffuse the air, not add to it.
"It isn't hesitation," he exclaimed as he whipped the blanket from his body.
There was a sorry expression on his face as he traipsed his way over to the bed. His face yet again bathed in candlelight. The drained color of his face brought a stall in her comfort. He was not himself.
Her hand touched his. She pulled him close to her body. His hand was placed against her belly, just as he liked, to calm him. The kicking pushing jabbing motions of the baby made him smile. He constantly grasped at the belly in hopes of urging a fight from the little thing inside her.
"I'm not running away, if that's what you're thinking." His voice was soft against her hair. His hand gained a life of its own. It ran down the length of her enormous belly.
"I know. You're nervous. We both are."
He snorted. "Really? I wouldn't consider studying a nervous behavior."
"Of course I'm nervous. I'm having a baby," she murmured. The climbing numbness of her fright started through her limbs.
"We're having a baby," he corrected.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't see a body emerging through your vagina."
He erupted with a bit of shocked chuckles. "Fair enough, love." His pursed lips pressed against her forehead.
Draco laid within the bed at her side, held her as she breathed through strengthening contractions, and not once left her alone. Her mother arrived late that night. By then, the contractions were in a close pattern. Her body was worn out through withstanding the waves of pain. Draco sat behind her. Each leg pressed against hers. His arms laced around her chest and held her tight against him as each wave brought a sharp cry from her lips.
The fire was stoked high and the candles burned bright when the time came. Healer Rosier was called. He arrived by Floo soon after, bright eyed and rather chipper for the early morning hour.
Too chipper. The thought to slap the smile off his face occurred. Yet, once the contraction dropped away, she was no longer angry.
He had Hermione scoot to the edge of the bed. Her legs were spread wide, shielded with a white cloth draped across her knees. It was a tense moment. Draco had not been present for those examinations by the Healer before. He'd thought it was not decent.
Now that he had front row seating, his body shifted rather closely around her. She tried to comfort him with a friendly squeeze of her hand, but his hand hold was much stronger.
A hand up the birth canal was not the time to be so rigid in chivalry. Whatever got the baby out of her body without injury was proper way as far as she was concerned.
"She's coming quick, isn't she?" The healer announced from below the cloth. "Thought you'd have another day in you."
"A day?" Draco repeated with fear. "It can go on days like this?"
Stacey Granger chuckled. "I was in labor for three days."
"Save me from more." Hermione groaned.
All the discomfort in her body, she thought there might be a peak. A point where no more was possible. However, the shoving of cold fingers into the burning hot place still managed to feel uncomfortable.
"That is the good news, Miss Granger. You won't be much longer now at all. She is coming quick."
She sighed a long breath. "Thank Merlin."
The wizard rose from behind the veil. He explained that as soon as the urge to push came to her that she let them know immediately. The healer and Stacey left to find Narcissa and announce the news. It left only Draco and Hermione within the suite.
Their breaths were loud and exaggerated. Each of their chests vibrated back and forth, a running pace of how nervous they were. The veins in her arm practically bulged under the pressure. Draco's teeth were being ground down to a fine powder from all the clenching.
The silence cut worst. It drove them both mad.
It only lasted a few short contractions more before a strong pressure gathered at her bum and her body demanded she push whatever it was, out.
"Uh, Draco." Her hand excitedly slapped his arm for attention. "I think you better find the healer."
"Yeah?" He answered, far too casually.
"Now!" She cried.
He hopped out of bed like the ghost of Salazar Slytherin was behind him. The black shadows of the room swallowed his black body, only the bright light color of hair a noticeable contract through the darkness.
A faint creak of door hinges echoed their way through.
"It's time," Draco called.
Hermione was within the strongest contraction yet when he returned. Her lips parted and swayed with the fury of her breath as she tried to withstand the storm of labor. It was harder than she imagined. She knew it would be difficult, but not a whole-body experience. Her back was tight. Muscles in her fingers cramped from holding onto the bed. That didn't even touch the cramps in her abdomen strong enough to throw her from the sheets if she didn't hold on.
"They're coming," Draco cooed in a soft voice. Some strength filtered through his tone. It was more comforting than the sharp edge of his concern. She nodded with a deep exhale. "Keep breathing. You're doing so wonderful. Look at that. She's that much closer to being here. Caprica. You had to know she'd like to make it a grand appearance."
It was a welcome reprieve to fear: a glimmer of humor of the child they'd hold.
"Must take after her father then," she replied. Her hand gripped his wrist with all her might. It helped relieve, if ever so slight, to transfer it to him. "He's got a need to be the belle of the ball."
His blonde brow quirked. "Coming from Miss Three-Day-Labor."
The contraction finally stopped. Hermione threw herself back against the pillows. Sweat pooled in her clothes. She felt it dribbled down her spine and form on her brow.
Godric, she wished the smell might abstain until she could shower.
Healer Rosier strode through. The soft folds of his face were lifted with a smile.
"Time to evict that baby," he joked.
Stacey assumed the other side of Hermione. Her arm slipped below Hermione's back and lifted her straight.
"Good girl. That's it. It's time to do this," she murmured. "Come now. Give us a bit of your strength. I know you've got much to spare."
It illicited a groan from her daughter. "Mum, please. I'm on full display with my legs spread. I'd rather not feel more mortified."
Her mother smiled. "Right then. On the doctor's count, you're going to push with all your might."
Pushing.
Pushing out the baby.
Oh, Merlin. It all came so fast. The idea of a wiggling newborn entered her mind. She was becoming a mum. Nothing would ever be the same.
Her heart started to race. A cloud laid claim to her eyes, stealing all her focus as the fears toppled over her carefully constructed walls. Bits of her strength caved. The pain in her body was only the beginning. An entire life of a screaming, needy thing awaited.
There would be no more late nights with friends. Hot tea in Hogsmeade. Long, hot, bubble baths. Smooth hair. It'd all be gone!
Just like a beacon through the stormy seas, a presence calmed the waves of distress with the slightest touch. It held onto her arm. Their caress was a memory engrained within her instinct, an involuntary response, without thought or realization.
Her eyes found his through the flickering light of candles.
"You can do this." On his lips was a smile. The scent of pumpkin juice was still on his breath. "Remember what you're doing. You're bringing us Caprica."
"Caprica Skye," she echoed softly.
He nodded. A hand laced through her curls. It brought her face close to his.
"That's right. Caprica Skye Malfoy. Our daughter."
"Miss Granger?" Healer Rosier said. "On the count of three. Draco, I'll need your hands here. Wand out. You'll have to cut the cord."
Draco left her side. He took his position, wand at the ready. Their eyes met once more, a conversation only based on the sheer emotion in their eye, an understanding of what must be done at first sight.
Narcissa entered at last minute. She was displaced at the side of the bed. Her face was tense with discomfort. It was clear she was unsure where to be. Weight shifted from one leg to the other as her soft voice offered a show of comfort.
Hermione swallowed. "I'm so tired. I don't think I can sit up and push."
She placed more weight on her mother's hold. Her bum shifted and lifted.
The Malfoy matron was at her side, two hands on Hermione's arm and pulled her right side up.
"There, there." She cooed. Her lovely perfume entered the air. So gentle and lovely. Hermione could have plunged her nose against the witch's neck. "Deep breath, love."
Blood. It was everywhere. Her legs stained with the redness.
She watched Draco's pale face lose more color at the sight of all the fluid as it left her body. He pulled at the knot of his tie.
Served him right for being so formally dressed to an event that left Hermione's body torn in half nearly.
Contractions refused to cease. They battered Hermione's energy with each passing minute, every clench and push of her body. It was a fight to free her body of the little creature she'd grown for ten months, but at long last, a final push freed her of the immense pressure at the end of her body, and a full breath filled her lungs.
A shrill cry entered the room a moment later. It was a beautiful melody that took their breaths away. The entire Manor fell quiet as the new life left it's mark against the silence.
"Diffindo," Draco muttered.
"Look at that." Stacey Granger gasped. "She's so beautiful."
"Final push, Miss Granger. Almost done," the healer instructed.
Hermione birthed the placenta without feeling of it leaving her body. She was allowed to lay back for a breath. She hadn't seen her baby yet. Her body was so tired. Her legs trembled.
She was cleaned up and decency covered. It helped her feel less exposed, but not any less raw. The entire experience was surreal. It was not real life, but the parting of one's soul. Even now, she felt the piece of her gone from her heart.
It felt nice to rest against the pillows of the bed. A soft quiet of the room as time passed by, allowing her a moment of peace compared to the rush of the last day. It felt home. At home.
The place where she laid was filled with people who cared for her. They tended to her wounds. Her blood was washed of their sheets without complaint. Their words of encouragement the only savior to what would have been a trying time.
No. It could not have been better.
A cool compress was pressed against her forehead. It was Narcissa's kind smile to welcome her back.
"Wonderful, darling. You've birthed a beautiful baby."
"Where is she?" Hermione asked.
"Draco is with her. Healer Rosier is giving her a quick look over."
Her daughter. She wanted her daughter.
"I want to see her," Hermione said. She pulled herself to sitting. The lack of her baby's cry filled her with anxiety. "Is something wrong? Why isn't she crying?"
The woman offered a smile of support. Her hand touched Hermione's.
"She's perfect," she assured her. "A head full of blonde hair. Just like her father."
Blonde hair. Blonde? Hermione didn't have blonde hair. Weasleys, too, were not blondes. They were redheads. It made no sense.
"But…that can't be."
"The Malfoy gene is strong," Narcissa said. "They will always be blonde."
Though the words came to mind, she never said them: she's not a Malfoy.
Hermione waited for the healer to finish his examination. It took entirely too long. She wanted to toss a book at him by the time he finally turned and placed the small bundle into Draco's awaiting arms.
That only directed her focus to him.
Draco. His eyes were wide, like in fear. The widest she'd ever seen them.
His arms were full. The wrapped bundle prevented her from seeing even the head, or any hair.
"Draco." His mother's voice rang out clear. "Give little Caprica to Hermione. She wants to see her."
He brought her close. A small pale face appeared in the light. The round sleeping face of a newborn babe nuzzled between fluffy blankets shattered her heart to a thousand pieces. All time stopped. She felt her entire being reach out to the little creature within Draco's arms and embrace it with all her soul.
A tear dribbled down her cheek.
Draco bent his knees and displayed the newborn to her. "Here she is."
Her hands trembled against the lush fleece. She waited so long for the baby to be there and now, she felt her heart scared to fall in love with her.
"She's um, well, she's - ."
"Blonde," he finished. "Yes. She's blonde."
Narcissa ran a finger through the flattened strands and swirled up the platinum colored hairs. Not sandy. Not honey or champagne. Malfoy platinum blonde. It stirred up a host of little fine hairs. So many. Hermione's jaw dropped. Her hands reached out and felt her child for the first time. The smooth, silken texture of her flesh and the hairs below.
"I was going to say beautiful." Hermione smiled. "But yes. She's blonde, too."
It was warm. So much warmth beneath her touch.
Draco's eyes, too, were filled with emotion, same as hers. Watery. Raw.
"Darling, give her the baby," Narcissa whispered to her son. "She's worked hard enough, don't you think?"
He handed over the bundle, though he did not slip away as she thought he might. Instead, he climbed in behind her and wrapped his arms around her as their daughter was displayed proudly within Hermione's grasp.
Both their mothers watched down as the little child was cradled within their own prospective, grown baby's arms. Stacey held her hands together at her heart, tears freely dripping from her eyes, and stealing short breaths. The other mother was far more reserved. Her eyes gleamed with pride. Their full joy overflowed in kind regard, only expressed through the slightest curl of her lips.
Draco's breath was hot against her neck. His cheek pressed against hers and stared down at the same face she did with pure shock.
Caprica Skye was a timid creature with pale blonde hairs than rivaled only the moonlight in their ethereal silver hue. Her eyes were closed. Lost in a sleep, the babe laid perfectly still, only shifting when her bundle was disrupted as she was transferred to another pair of arms. However, there was a sigh of relief that burst from her nostrils only when Hermione held her. The little girl knew her mother.
William Granger and Lucius Malfoy entered the suite after it was put back to place and Hermione given a chance to tidy herself. It was a beautiful moment that took place just as the hazy light of dawn shined in through the floor length windows. The room was cast in the soft yellow hues of rays as they pierced through the sheer curtains and ignited all their hearts on fire.
It was Draco who held his daughter. He'd stolen her away from his mother's arms the moment Caprica stirred from her slumber.
His lips whispered soft words of sweetness to calm the infant back to her serenity.
A light shined through his eyes. It was brighter than the stars of the sky. All she knew was the love that poured from him was pure and true, stronger than what she imagined possible. He was in raptures at their baby like he was her true father, no question in his gaze to the connection he felt.
Hermione's father embraced her with his overwhelming pressure. He kissed her forehead and flashed a glance at the precious newborn infant in her father's arms.
"You did it, dove. You're a mummy."
"And you're a grandfather," she replied. Her eyes caught Draco's. It drew him closer with their daughter in careful tow. "Would you like to meet your granddaughter?"
It was a moving moment to see her father's eyes overfill with that swallowed, pretend-it-isn't-there emotion. His arms were stiff with Caprica inside them. His motions were stalled and cradled her like a porcelain doll.
Draco slipped an arm around Hermione's waist and held her close. An open palm touched his boasted chest.
Oh, how she loved him, a proud father too in love to care.
Stacey Granger leaned into her husband's arms, teasing him lightly for his resistance to shift Caprica, and dared to rub her thumb along the newborn's chubby cheeks, softer than a baby's bum and unblemished. They were dazzled, lost in the daze a new baby inflicted upon a room.
Ever the proper royals, Lucius and Narcissa stood together with their faces stretched to indifference, as if either could keep their eyes off the newborn.
"Look at your father," Hermione whispered. "It's killing him to pretend he doesn't want to hold her."
"My parents are not so…expressive as yours are. My mother has only held a few in her life and did not seem to care for it," Draco commented.
She rolled her eyes. "Honestly. Your mother loves children. Her heart shattered when you took Caprica away."
"She started to fuss. What did you expect me to do?"
"All she did was whimper in her sleep," Hermione retorted. "Her eyes didn't even open."
"She needed me."
"Of course, she needed you. She's always going to." She squeezed his wrist for support. He was so protective of their baby and she was only an hour old. It was going to be a long road ahead if he didn't learn to loosen his iron grip on them both. "But she needs other people, too. Her grandparents. Your mother has prepared months for her, made everything perfect, opened her heart to me being an unwed mother, underage and naïve in the ways of magical tradition, all so that her son and grandchild might be cared for. Can't you see how important Caprica is?"
He sighed. Eyes glanced back at his own parents in their prim and proper, chin-held-high way. It was a wonder for his sharp wit that he overlooked the humanity of his two parents. They were two people blessed with new life in their home, from their only son, the continuation of their lineage and name. Children of Malfoy house were revered. Sacred. Special.
Draco loosened the rigid rod from his spine, deflated in his shoulder a centimeter, and released the swallowed air of breath from deep within his lungs. "We will have to share her, won't we?"
Share.
She wondered the thought of Draco's taut hold on the baby and found herself remembering the way he jumped to the conclusion that if Hermione had not wanted to be with him, it meant that she wanted to be with Ronald Weasley. His mind jumped to Ron. There was no doubt, now that she recalled it, that Draco Malfoy believed he was a placeholder at her side, someone to hold the figure until Ron might make up and take his place.
Draco fought for his station. He guarded Hermione in the end of her days when labor was expected at every corner. The pampering and support. The nest! He built the very nest in which their child would grow. All so that his place in their lives was secured. There was no aspect of Caprica that was not anchored with the memory of him, his patience, his support and love. Him.
Hermione felt tears threaten to cascade down her cheeks. It was not that strong. The hormones. They still raged through her body. She did not cry like an abandoned puppy.
"Share her," her voice trembled as she fought back tears. It was a fact he noticed. His face turned soft as he regarded her. The faint lines of concern bubbling through his stoic beauty. "Yes. We will have to share her," she continued. "But. We are her parents. The only ones she'll ever have."
She parted from Draco's hold and gathered up Caprica in her arms once more. The weight was laughable compared to the size in which her body extended to make room for the baby. How had she come out so small? Hermione was the size of a cruise ship not a day ago.
The room grew quiet. Hermione felt small in the eyes of the two piercing eyes of the Malfoys. Their beauty and grace was beyond all Hermione knew of people. It made thoughts of self-doubt creep through her strength. Still, she didn't allow them to linger.
It mattered. Narcissa and Lucius were grandparents. Draco's parents. They were far more precious than her own pitiful fears of inadequacy.
If she stopped to consider it, the Malfoys were the reason her delivery was special in the first place. She was offered the finest antenatal care, tended to with the finest things, given privacy and a comfortable room with the two people she believed would miss the largest moment of her life. If it hadn't been for all their politics and cunning, Caprica would have been born in a back room of the hospital wing in Hogwarts. The only party there to give her strength there would have been Draco. How lonely that would have felt.
The matriarch was collected as the infant was presented to her in wrapped muslin and fleece.
"Oh, thank you," she said.
It was instinct for the witch to reply as if she'd been handed a cup of tea.
Draco had been wrong. The moment Caprica was handed over, his mother melted around the child. She cradled the being close, eyes never leaving the precious exposed face of pure innocence. The blur of her charcoal eyeliner appeared as did a soft glisten in the whites of her eyes.
She sniffed a polite little sniff as she regained her composure. "Do you mind? I'd like to see her."
"Not at all," Hermione replied with a smile.
Layers of protection were pulled from Caprica's body. Her bundle went lax as the edges were pulled from their seat buried within other blankets.
A scrawny body of pure white emerged. Little legs kicked out at the sudden chill of air. Pale yellow socks stretched out from the thin legs as the infant started to squirm.
Hermione heard Draco suck his teeth behind her. She casted him a harsh look.
"Caprica Skye," Narcissa hummed. Her voice was filled with so much joy. "You are a replica of your father, I'm afraid."
The infant cooed a sound of contentment, still comfortable behind shuttered eyes.
It was there that Lucius was caught in Caprica's snare. He was forced to forget his manners and the way gentlemen wizards were raised. His hands raised, ungloved, and ghosted across her forehead. There was a slight part in his jaw, the most level of awe Hermione witnessed in the man.
Through that touch, his heart exposed to the top of his throat. "There is no denying the name Malfoy on you, is there? Hm?"
It was a tone unrecognizable. It was not that of strong, unrelenting Lucius Malfoy.
Lucius was given his fair turn of holding his first grandchild before she awoke with vengeance. She cried for milk. The time of being cute and adorable faded with the emptiness of her belly growled.
Draco pushed the visitors from the room like there was a fire. He directed them out and ensured the door was secured behind so that no one might feel the need to come back.
Hermione settled in a position the healer taught her. It was quite foreign to have a sensation at her breast. The burst of breath from Caprica's nose was strange, too. However, the baby knew just how to eat from an offered breast. She quietly embraced the breast and drank in long slow pulls.
At the edge of the bed, a pair of watchful eyes looked down at the scene. The assumed post of their protection, he guarded from afar.
"You can come sit if you like." Her lips curled to a smile, albeit an exhausted one. Energy was being drained by the minute. Awake half the night turned out to be more tiring than she thought. "I don't mind."
He lingered at the edge before he tempted himself closer. He climbed alongside Hermione, his lap just below his daughter's head as she nursed. The contrast of his black trousers highlighted the frightful lightness of the baby's head.
"I cannot believe she is here," he said. "It's all happened so fast."
"Speak for yourself." Hermione moved her thumb down Caprica's cheek. "She's been kicking my bladder for months. I'm ready to have her here."
A pair of fingers caressed the length of the arm against Hermione's breast. "Can you believe how perfect she is?"
Looking down at the angel perched at her chest, latched onto her with a hold of life, comfortable and warm, it was disbelief, too, that filled her. No. She couldn't believe it.
"She's nothing like I imagined," she answered softly. A probing gaze wandered up her cheeks as question seeped through Draco's eyes. His confusion, a tangible feel in the air. "She's better. Much better."
Draco's hand moved upward toward the baby's head. A head covered in Malfoy colored hair. His fingers stopped to rub against the fine hairs.
"Were you blonde?" He asked, as if lost in thought. "As a child."
She shook her head. "No. My hair was darker than it is now. Almost black."
"Weasel was not blonde either."
Her mind wrapped around that very question. Why was she blonde? It made no sense. Ronald was not blonde. None of the Weasleys were. Neither was she, or her family.
The only blonde she knew of was Draco.
But…he wasn't the biological father.
"How can this be?" She pondered aloud. "I don't understand…"
"She looks like me. Identical."
"But she's not a Malfoy. We didn't sleep together until recently."
He was at a loss, same as she was. "I'm not certain, Hermione. All I know is that she doesn't look like Weasel. Or you, much. I…I think she's my daughter. Mine. Actually, mine."
"She's always been yours, Draco."
"Really mine," he uttered with such emotion. His eyes frozen wide at her sleeping face. Such peace. At her mother's breast, she dozed into another slumber of silence and comfort. It distracted their faces from one another, though out of the corner of her eye, she saw a glimmer of a tear split his silver-grey eyes. "My beloved Caprica."
Hermione swallowed back her smile. "Our beloved."
His lips shifted to a smirk. "Oh, love. Is that a tone of jealousy I detect?"
Her mouth dropped wide. "That's ridiculous."
The devious glint in his eye did not soothe the accusation in her belly.
"I've love enough for two."
"Oh, piss off." She growled.
They stared at their daughter for an indeterminate stretch of time. Neither wanted to break away from the vision. A living angel in their arms, perfect and soft, slender and cuddly.
It was like Professor Burbage had told them. A baby's favorite place was a mother's breast. Caprica slept in endless comfort if she was cradled against Hermione's chest. However, when Hermione needed to use the loo to freshen herself from hours in the same sweat and pajamas, they opened up Draco's Prada shirt (a fact that made Hermione's eyes roll) and tucked the infant against his exposed bare chest.
The decoy worked, so long as it wasn't used too often. If she grew hungry, her nose detected the difference in smell, and absence of milk, and demanded the real thing.
Despite the ache in her body, Hermione's days within Malfoy Manor were so comforting she almost felt as if she was home. Her parents stayed in a suite within the Manor so that all their time was spent together. The Malfoy's were gracious in their manners. Stacey Granger was distracted with high tea and strolls through the magnificent lawns as William was shown the prestigious artifacts of the Malfoy family. Many were priceless. It intrigued her father to view historic rarities up close. To say it didn't suit Lucius Malfoy to boast the success of his family was a lie. He was a proud man. It was not over handed as some believed. What was presumed boasting was his mere graciousness to share precious things with the ones he cared about.
Like a loyal dog, Draco never strayed from either of his girls. They were the apple of his eye. His lips kissed Hermione's cheek every ten minutes like clockwork. He was too smitten with their child to think about anything else other than the efforts Hermione made to bring her earth side. The pride in his chest had yet to deflate from the moment Caprica was born.
"I love you," he'd whisper out into the quiet night after sneaking into the suite against his mother's request that Hermione not be disturbed.
"I love you," she'd repeat.
"I love you so much."
Those times her eyes would be closed. Her mind was close to sleep. His words kept her on the brink of reality and a dream state. That was the point where her mind would reply, but her lips wouldn't move. His mouth would ramble on in their infinite abyss. She'd swear that she dreamed about him talking. Just talking.
"I cannot wait to make you mistress of the Manor one day," he had said in her dreams. "Hermione Malfoy does have a nice ring to it."
In the blink of an eye, Hermione and Draco were forced to return to Hogwarts to complete their exams. The term end was at hand. Just not yet. They were expected back at the castle for their classes after only three days of recovery. The Manor fell quiet as their belongings were packed. Even Caprica felt the difference. She squirmed if she wasn't held in Hermione's arms. It was a sad day. Dreary. Rain poured constantly from the sky. The moment came too soon to bid their parents goodbye.
"I don't know if I can do this alone," Hermione told her mother. The baby in her arms was too precious. What if she needed help? How could she ever deny a face like that? "Perhaps I shouldn't return."
"Are you mental, little dove?" William piped in. "The end is near. You've only little more than a week left. That is not so hard, now is it? Besides, you know what they'll do to you if you do not return. All hope for a magical life for Caprica is taken away. I know you don't want that."
Of course, she didn't. Her entire life would be in ruins then.
"You're not alone, love. You've got Draco." Her mother grabbed hold of the sides of Hermione's face and brought their eyes level. "You are not one to quit when things get hard. You endure. You're strong. Look at what you've done already. Your father and I are already so proud, and you're only a young woman. Imagine what awaits after school. The world at your grasp. Don't let it slip away because of fear, Hermione. There is no place for fear in this world. All it does is swallow you up and spit you out."
Stacey released her daughter with a sad smile. Her father shared the same look. Her eyes swam with grief. Their time together was done.
Behind them, Draco set the trunks against the floor. "Hermione."
She looked over her shoulder.
"Are you ready?" He asked.
Even though the answer was no, she nodded. There was no choice. Hogwarts awaited.
Both her parents gave Caprica a kiss. Their soft murmurs of love and goodbye tore her insides to shreds.
The Malfoy's were far more reserved in their farewell. Their calm tones spoke to the effort they made. Hermione knew they both loved Caprica like her own parents did. How sad it was to watch them force themselves not to show it.
"I've sent some things to your suite at Hogwarts," Narcissa informed her. Her fingertips ghosted through Caprica's blonde hairs once more. "They'll hold you over until terms end."
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. You've been so kind to us," she said. "We appreciate all you've done. I know it was no easy feat to allow us this holiday." Her eyes glanced at the iron stiff gaze of Draco's father. The intensity in his indifference was difficult to get used to. "We're very blessed to have you."
Narcissa's lips curled ever so slight in the corners. A watery sheen overtook her eyes. She blinked them away with an upward glance.
"Should you ever need a thing," Lucius spoke, "we're only a letter away."
"Don't hesitate to write even if you don't need anything," Narcissa added quickly. "I'd love to know how she does and how she changes. If she favors any toys, I'll have the Manor stocked for when she visits. You're both welcome to visit anytime you like. No prior notice. You're always welcome here. Perhaps, we might pop by sometime, too."
Hermione loved her mother with all her heart, but she felt the instinct to comfort the witch in front of her as her own. The love poured through Narcissa in her graciousness. She might not cry or beg to hold her granddaughter, but there was that lingering gaze that said those wishes were there.
"Has Draco not told you?" she found herself saying, though it was not fully decided on.
Narcissa's eyes glanced at her son. "Told us what, dear?"
"We thought it might not be fair to either one of us to stay in one place. Caprica is both of ours after all. She has a right to her family." It was clear through Draco's gaze that he was uncertain of what was to be said. He trekked closer. A hand grabbed her side gently. "If it acceptable to you, we thought a week with my parents in Hampstead, then a week here in Wiltshire. Of course, I understand this is last minute. If your schedules don't allow - ."
"Nonsense," Lucius Malfoy interrupted, surprising the entire room. Even his wife's pale eyes looked at him through widen lens. "Our son's family has a right to this home. It is not ours to deny it."
It was settled. The Malfoy's fell into comfortable stances as their anxiety defused.
"We'll see you at King's Cross," Stacey said.
The echo through the large foyer of Malfoy Manor was a sad cry. It was the parting of their souls. Every person in the room felt the grief within their beings. It went against the order of nature to divide a family, yet there was no option left.
A baby had to be restrained to the walls of Hogwarts until her mother earned her right to live without supervision.
Hermione and Draco huddled close. Caprica was within both of their arms, each with a trunk loop in their other hand. A spell was muttered and poof! They were gone.