The dreaded day of return to Hogwarts. It took every ounce of strength to bundle up Caprica's belongings into a trunk to know that they'd be outgrown by the time they returned home.
Hermione sniffled as she folded the clothing in precise piles. They were clothes she already outgrew. Never to be worn again.
An infant laid on the bedspread. Their little scrawny legs kicked high in the air, moving and dancing through the air in the little exercise time they got before they were expected to depart for King's Cross station. Hermione was given a memo written from the desk of McGonagall that she was expected to ride the train with her peers, with her child. No special circumstances would be extended.
The last of their drawers were cleared out. The final sliding of the drawer back in its sheath like the final nail in a coffin.
Hermione sighed. The emptiness of her childhood room weighed heavy against her heart. It hurt to know that it would be so long without their comfort. Sleeping in because her parents snuck in and cared for Caprica without a sound, the gentle laughs of Draco in the other room as he played with their daughter, the rising smell of food from her mother's kitchen.
She approached the bed. Caprica grew excited the moment her face came into view. Her arms shot out upward, as if reaching for her.
The infant was collected in her arms. "Sorry, baby. I know you're going to hate this, but we have to say goodbye to grandma and grandpa."
A pair of bright eyes stared up at her. Their lovely sheen of joy sank deeper into her body as she stepped lower in the house. The little baby did not understand why their favorite people had to leave. Why they had to return back to a cold, stormy place far away from all who loved them.
William and Stacey Granger were at the base of the stairs. Their eyes were rounded. A red line was below Stacey's eyes as she rubbed them, yet again, to prevent tears from spilling.
Hermione handed her mother the baby. "I'll grab our trunks while you say your goodbyes."
"Don't you do that," Stacey retorted. Her arms rocked the baby side to side. "Your father can bring your things down."
"They aren't that heavy."
"I'll carry yours, dove, and you bring down Caprica's. How's that?" William countered.
It was an easy alternative that made them all happy. Hermione's trunk was always loaded with books that was too heavy for one person to carry, let alone someone who gave birth a few months ago.
They carried the trunks out to the car.
"What time is Draco getting in?" Her dad asked.
"He was delayed," Hermione answered. "He'll have to meet us at King's Cross."
Stacey leaned through to the back seat and buckled the infant in the carrier. Hermione slid alongside the seat and dangled her fingers over the edge to distract her daughter. There was one thing that Caprica disliked: the restraints of the car carrier. She fought and fussed the entire time she was forced inside one.
It made any car trip too long with a crying infant as they struggled against the buckles of their seat.
William learned, in that too, to drive with a bit of a heavy foot. It thrust them forward through traffic with a pep in their pace toward the city center where an oversized train station rested, where just below a secret entrance laid the magical train that delivered the students to the school.
The journey was one they all knew well. It was their seventh year of traveling. Their last.
"I can't believe this is your last year," William marveled. "Seems like just yesterday you were the size of this little one."
Hermione smiled down at the sleeping face smooshed against the side of her seat restraint. Her cheek was already marked with a red line.
"I can't believe she's almost three months old," she said softly. "It's gone by so fast."
"Think of how we feel. Our daughter, almost graduated. So smart and talented." Stacey touched at her cheeks. "Oh, how old I feel looking at you. You're a grown woman, my little Hermione. Grown with a family all your own."
It burned her heart to know in eighteen – short – years that she was bound to feel the same way.
"Look at it this way," she said. "Now your lives can start. Maybe take up some traveling? You won't have to be rushing home to get me from school. You could take a sabbatical for an entire year to go journey across Australia like you've always wanted to."
"Oh, blimey, no. We were young when we thought we could hike through the outback."
William looked away from the road at his wife. "With legs like that, I doubt you have to worry, dear."
Stacey blushed and waved him away. Her smile was swallowed back, all that youth rebounded back to her eyes as she gazed back at her husband, so lost in love and desire.
It might have made other children uncomfortable. Hermione loved the way her parents adored one another. It made their separations easier. They had one another to care for, not only her.
King's Cross was a mess. So many crowded the building in hopes of finding their departing train.
Hermione recognized many throughout the platforms. They were all the same people they saw year in, year out back in London every September 1st. The last time, though, she reminded herself. This was the last time she'd step through the wall onto the Hogwarts platform.
She glanced down at the infant in her arms. Wide eyes absorbed the world around them. The room was dense with multiple voices. All the dark robes around them, sounds of a train, slamming trunks, the utter chaos of the new school year all around them.
Her parents rolled the trunks behind her as they moved through the crowd. They caught the notice of a few families around them.
Witches of her own year stood on their toes to see Caprica as they passed while the wizards did their best to not notice. That was probably more of Draco's doing. There were a few instances that he hexed wizards, although each one of them deserved it.
Through the waves of people, she caught a glimpse of blonde. It moved swiftly.
All too soon, she was wrapped in a hug. A pair of lips pressed against her temple.
"Sorry I'm late." He breathed like he'd ran the entire way. "Hello Caprica. How's Daddy's little girl? Were you good for mummy last night?"
They had not spent much time away from each other the entire summer holiday, but his family required his presence for something important. He left them for two whole days. It was the longest two days of her life. She'd become accustomed to his constant snores to fill her nights, a lullaby to aid her to sleep.
He pressed a kiss against their daughter's forehead. Arms excitedly grabbed up at his face. An excited squeal at the appearance of her favorite person.
"Somebody missed you," Hermione commented with a wry smile.
"I thought we had a deal." He leaned close to their daughters face and whispered, "You were supposed to keep her busy so she wouldn't miss me."
They got their moment together as her parents deposited their trunks at the train. Her belongings all packed and ready to depart to the castle.
It was a stressful experience, muddled together with the rest of the Hogwarts crowd and their families, with a small infant in her care. Part of her felt outgrown to it. She did not sit giddy with excitement to join her classmates on the train far away from home. All she wanted to do was stay home with Draco and watch their daughter grow, not cross the country to attend a school that knew she already mastered all their subjects.
The sounds around them, the crushing weight of the crowd as they crept nearer and nearer, the platform filled with their bodies the closer it came to departure.
"Let's board," Draco said after one long look at her face.
"What about your parents?"
"They'll understand," he answered. "Caprica shouldn't be around so many people anyway. She might get sick."
They turned to her parents, ready to state their goodbyes, when a pair of familiar faces finally emerged from the crowd. Lucius wore his silver locks flat down his shoulders. A fancy hat adorned Narcissa's head.
The parents greeted one another. Their faces long as they reminisced the first time they brought their child to platform for the first time. Narcissa looked at her son with pride. She did not wish for time to be reversed. Neither did Lucius. They adored the way their age had grown into himself.
Hermione, herself, was proud of how amazing he'd turned out to be from the prat she met first year.
Draco collected their wriggling daughter from her arms. "We're going to go. It's too much out here."
Though it was sad, their parents nodded their approval with only short kisses given in place of goodbye. They promised letters and updates. It almost took a severing spell to retract from their presence.
Finally they were free to get to the train. A private car away from the rest of the rowdy students where they could spend their time together. The rocking might even convince Caprica to nap on the long ride up to Scotland.
A familiar crowd stood nearer the train. The herd of redheaded witches and wizards were loud. Their voices carried throughout the air.
"Drink lots of water. Don't let her carry anything. You hear me, Ronald Weasley? You better carry all of her books." The matron of the Weasley family held at outstretched finger at her youngest son.
Hermione winced as she remembered the feeling of being beneath that blistering gaze.
"Alright, Mum. I will. Lav won't do a single thing all year," he groaned.
He took the jumper from Lavender's arm. Something about the witch seemed changed. Her face was wider, like she'd gained weight over the holiday.
Hermione pretended not to notice as they passed. She did not need any negative attention on them with her daughter so near.
Ronald Weasley was so old news.
"Can you believe it? My son is going to make me a grandmother. Now Lav, deary, you work on making that baby good and strong," Molly Weasley instructed the witch. "Make sure you bring home a granddaughter for Nana Weasley, eh?" Her eyes turned to her son. "Ronald Weasley, you make sure nothing happens to this witch. I expect a perfectly healthy witch at the Burrow come June."
It took Hermione's breath away to hear the words.
He'd gone and done it. Again.
"Come on," Draco said gently, with an arm slipped behind her back. "Just ignore it."
"He's – he's – ."
"I know."
They found an isolated carriage in the back corner of the railcar. It was mostly still silent in wait for all its passengers to board.
Draco placed his satchel down. Their daughter still in his arms, he gathered Hermione as close to his chest as possible.
"I can't believe he's gone and done it again," she whispered. Her voice shuddered with a sob. "After everything the bloody wizard put me through -."
She stopped herself. Ronald was not worth it. The pain she felt wasn't either.
Her breath exhaled as she glanced down at Caprica, hair blonde as ever with icy grey eyes. She was all Malfoy. Not an ounce of Weasley resided within her flesh.
"It doesn't matter, does it? She's not his," her lips murmured. A finger ghosted down the length of her filled in arm. No longer scrawny from birth, but plump and healthy. "What he's done doesn't matter to her."
"We're all immune to what that wanker does," Draco said. "Let him ruin a child of his own. This one is mine."
She smiled. The water eased from her vision. "There isn't anything he can do, right? Magic isn't going to show that he's got rights over us?"
"Never," he said firmly. "Malfoy house magic recognizes this baby as mine. That is as good as law."
"It doesn't matter that you didn't – fertilize me?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. It's like, it recognized her source of magic as its own, an extension of what makes us so strong. Malfoy Manor claimed it. No other can bond with her magic except ours. The magic itself. There is nothing that can be done against it. It predates the Ministry."
It was a sigh of relief through her lungs. She fell into the carriage bench seat with the greatest satisfaction.
Despite the good news, Hermione felt the pending two terms would be the most difficult of her life.
Caprica was placed up against Draco's chest. Her little head popped straight up and looked around. A smile split through that quiet reserve of her father's features as he peppered her fluffed cheeks with kisses and rubbed his face against hers like a cat does one they love.
She loved to sit back and watch. The perfect little family all her own.
"I missed you these two days," she admitted. "Felt longer." She chuckled. There was a time when being around him felt so strange, now it was the opposite. Any time he was absent, she noticed. Especially when the small creature attached to her breast cried for his attention. "I feel like an old woman saying that. 'Two days was eternity', but that's what it felt like."
"It was hard for me, too."
He refused to sleep away from them at Hogwarts. She could only imagine how hard it was to be separated for an entire night, much less two of them.
She leaned back in her seat, eyes lulled behind their lids. "I half expected you to crawl into my bed one night after running away from your parents," she snickered.
His laugh split the calm of the car in a gentle push. "You know how I hate being parted from your bed."
Her eyes snapped open in disbelief. "Draco Malfoy. You naughty wanker."
A devious glint took the corner of his eye. The signature smirk of his lips was close to unraveling her.
The wizard was almost too delicious to resist. Almost.
"You know…" he said sometime later. "We could go on a date. To Hogsmeade. Some weekend. If you want."
Hermione climbed into a jumper. She was already cold from the inner reaches of the air through the train windows. Her fingers probed her daughter and wrapped around blanket around her body.
Draco shook his head. "She's already bundled up tighter than a mummy."
"I don't know if Caprica would like the trip to Hogsmeade. It wouldn't be an easy ride in the pram down to the village."
"What if it was just us two?"
Her hands paused. "Like, a date?"
He shrugged. "Sure. All the kids are doing it nowadays."
Hermione rolled her eyes and succumbed to a fit of giggles. Sometimes, his humor was the best part about him. It filled her body with such light, especially when she fell into her dark moods.
Draco bounced the baby on their lap. His two fingers gripped tightly by a pair of tiny hands.
"What do you say?" He asked. His eyes shimmered when he looked at her. The intent of his question, rather serious, than playful. "Will you go out with me?"
It was enough to quiet a sarcastic retort.
"Of course, Draco. I'd love to."
Not long after, the train whistled for everyone to board. The car rumbled to life with the sounds of many feet through its corridors and many private carriages. So many people passed their doors. Many peered in with thick curiosity before they finally moved on.
Draco snarled gently when he caught notice of the trend. He disliked the large enough of attention directed at his daughter.
"Next one who gets close enough to fog the door with their nostrils gets jinxed."
Hermione ignored them all. She didn't care what was stared at.
She suspected by the look in many of their eyes, it was envy. Many witches looked down at Caprica with a look of pure longing. Or rather, an infant with such beautiful features. It only made things worse than Draco was the most popular, wanted wizard in the entire school, perhaps country. Every witch had dreams about him climbing into their bed.
For only one it was true.
That was enough for her.
Slytherins found them. Pansy and Daphne and Blaise and Crabbe and Goyle loaded into the small train carriage. They were stuffed so full that now all anyone saw was Goyle's backside when they passed.
Draco had Hermione snuggled close in his seat with Caprica between them. The strong scent of honey filled her nostrils. It had her melted against him, the comfort of his heat, his smell, all throughout her senses.
A long two days of nothing but the pillow he slept on to keep her company.
Their friends cooed over the baby. Each passed her around with pure joy in their eyes. Pansy made a point to state that she was indecisive over marveling at Caprica's beauty when she knew just who the witch resembled. It made Draco ripple with pleasure. A pointed smirk cast in Pansy's direction.
"God, look at those big eyes. So round and sparkling," Daphne cooed.
"You like those?" Draco snickered. "They're mine."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "You don't make them look this good. She's showing you how a real Malfoy does it."
Hermione laughed gently while the rest of the witches cackled with delight. He bristled slightly, though his hand ran down the length of her arm and interacted with her fingers at the end. A black ring sat on his pointer finger. It clinked against her knuckle.
The train ride passed in quiet contentment. There was blessed serenity within their company. Breath was easy. Warmth and cozy in Draco's lap, Hermione could have died in pure bliss in that moment.
It might have been the best ride on the Hogwarts Express ever, if a certain wizard was mentioned.
"Did you hear the news?" Pansy plopped down into her seat. Her eyes fixed on Draco's face. They flashed quickly in Hermione's direction.
He brushed the stray hairs of Hermione's curls from his face. "Yeah. We heard on the way in."
"It'll never last," Pansy said firmly. "They'll be at each other's throats by the end of term."
It made Hermione sad. Incredibly sad.
Ronald had already failed one witch. One witch who needed him to be strong. Draco stepped in to make things right and provide support for their daughter. That was lucky. Lavender was not bound to be so blessed. It was apparent that Molly already ran the poor witch's life. That baby would be ripped from Lavender the moment the Weasley mother found the opportunity to.
That's the reason she wanted it to be a girl. A granddaughter. It made up for the lack of daughters she received as her own children. An unhealthy obsession that led to too many children within their walls, sons often left feeling insignificant and not enough, while their sister given all the special treatment they were never offered.
She hoped, for his family's sake, that Ron created boundaries. Healthy ones. That kept his parents and siblings out of his new life.
"With what he did to Hermione, who knows what he'll do to that witch. I wouldn't be surprised by anything," Millicent pointed out.
It did well to remind Hermione of the bitterness that she endured at Ronald's design. So many things ruined by his disregard.
She sighed and fell deeper into Draco's hold. Their daughter found way back to their arms. Both curled their arms to support her growing body as she slept, arms up behind her head, back arched, not a care in the world.
"Bet he won't be any good on the Pitch either, with the giant set of bullocks he's got on him," Crabbe said.
It startled Hermione. She'd never heard him be so vocal.
"His father is an embarrassment to the Ministry," Draco added. "Can't believe they've tolerated the wizard. It is no secret what he does after hours. Disgraces witches all over just for his bit of fun."
Hermione swallowed thickly. Christmas eve, Pansy told a story of how personal Draco was to the issue. She allowed her gaze to meet Pansy's dark orbs. They shared a knowing look before splitting.
Bellatrix had given birth and given up a Weasley child.
"It isn't their fault," she said quietly. "He probably tricks them or lies. They don't disgrace themselves. He does."
Draco gave a curious look downward at her. A bit of surprise ruptured through his revere, but he made no comment to pursue it. Instead, they allowed the name of Weasley to settle in the dust at their feet and move onto more important topics like what fun they wanted to have in their last year of school.
The train delivered them at the station outside of Hogwarts. The horseless carriages were there to take them the rest of the way to the castle in the distance.
Caprica disliked the ride. She fought against her wrapped muslin blankets. Her nose wrinkled. She turned red from anger at the displeasure of being forced to endure a carriage ride without the comforting suckle of her mother's breast.
It caused Hermione great stress to endure her daughter's cries. She yearned to comfort them away. All summer, they'd geared their schedules around her feeding schedule. Never was she denied nursing when it was needed.
Now, she'd be forced to do just that to fit into the schedule of Hogwarts.
"Here." Draco reached into his satchel and pulled something from within. "It was going to be a return gift, but I figure it's better used now."
The empty bottle sat in his open palm. There was a little silver bow wrapped around its glass.
Hermione blinked. "How is that supposed to help me now?"
He smirked and handed the bottle over. "Oh. Just give it a minute."
The moment it touched her hand, there was a heavy weight lifted off her chest. Literally. Her breasts were light, as if relieved of all their mass.
Glass warmed in her hand. The bottle was filled with the white milk with yellow fat. Her breastmilk.
Caprica grunted as the nipple was eased against her lips. She fought with it a little while. However, the steady flow of the milk convinced her quiet.
"Where did you get that?" Hermione asked, completely baffled.
"I had a spell maker craft it," Draco commented.
Witches were given a full year of maternity leave with their newborns. Magical blood was so important. They were given the fullest support to raise their children to a stage that did little harm to the child to be parted from them. Infant formula was not commonly used – if at all. Breastfeeding was all that was taught. It was all the education that Hermione and Draco were given in their parenting classes.
She marveled at the ease of it. How much it would benefit Caprica to have a bottle with breast milk.
"It's wonderful." Her heart wanted to cry at the relief. She sniffled a little. "Godric, it's embarrassing that I want to cry over this, but this will make things so much better for her. I can't believe you thought of it."
Draco hadn't expected such a reaction. A genuine smile upturned his mouth. Even with the other Slytherins around, he hadn't cared that he was so open.
They brought their foreheads closer together, an intimate thing possible when their arms were busy with tending to their daughter. It brought a levelness to her thoughts.
Something that was like the life they'd created outside of Hogwarts, not just a holiday dream. It was real. Their life. One they crafted to work for them.
Arrival to the castle took a stronger dedication than Hermione expected. She hadn't realized how much she wanted to remain home until she stepped through that threshold onto the castle grounds that had her angered that her daughter was forced to remain as a prisoner for the Ministry to hold Hermione there. It filled her with resentment at every professor who greeted her with a warm smile and a curious glance at her daughter. As if they were not party to the trials that were being forced on her.
She kept the infant close to her body as they moved through the castle. Their private chamber was her destination.
The stone walls, more like iron bars around them.
"Miss Granger. Excuse me, Miss Granger." A voice called through the corridors. It slowed her pace. She turned to face the head of Gryffindor house with every intent to pretend to be pleasant. The will power to upturn her lips, however, absconded the moment she met the curious gaze of the elder witch. "Where are you going? The feast will begin soon."
Hermione raised her child against her shoulder. "I'm not going to the return feast. My daughter is exhausted by the commotion of the day. She needs to have some peaceful alone time to wind down."
McGonagall clasped her hands in front of her emerald velvet robes. "I was under the impression you were not going to let your studies falter despite your circumstance."
"I'm not. I -."
"As Head Girl, I expect you present at your house's table as you welcome in the new students to Gryffindor. It is the most important night of the term. The entire school looks to you to be their role model. Your attendance is required."
Her mouth dropped open. "Head Girl? I never accepted that position. I wasn't ever asked -."
"I assumed it was an obvious choice," the professor stated. Her face was fixed too pleasant to not be fake. Not even in false concern over her obvious hesitation to the position.
As Head Girl, she was responsible for all other prefects. Basically, she was the one that managed all student behavior. It was assumed that she would guide first years through their struggles and offer advice. All aspects of her life, open to their needs. Every prefect, under her watch for misuse of power or their own behaviors in need of guidance.
It was an honor, no doubt, one that she yearned for for years. But now. Caprica needed her more.
"I'm sorry, professor. I don't think I'll be able to - ."
"Miss Granger, you've come so far in your education. I don't expect a little bump in the road such as this will hinder all your success. If only the right motivation is found," Professor McGonagall said. Her hand reached up to remove the glasses from her face. "I'll expect you at the head of Gryffindor table. Your duties as Head Girl begin this evening."
Hermione staggered. She blinked, uncertain what to say. "My- my daughter. Professor. What of my daughter?"
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
She was given a dismissive wave. As if it was as simple as that.
Draco found her frozen in total panic in the corridor. He sped his pace toward her.
"Hermione? What are you – are you alright?"
His eyes grew concerned. They jumped down to their daughter in silent perusal, wary that it was their child who had her petrified.
A slender cool hand brushed across her cheek as it gripped the side of her face. It brought her eyes level with his.
"They've made me Head Girl," she blurted.
He blinked, a very obvious surprise to him as well. "Congratulations. That's something you've always wanted."
She shook her head. "Not now. I can't. I can't do it. Not with Caprica." She swallowed. Why did her thoughts race beyond the reach of her tongue? "They require that I be present at the feast. McGonagall required that I be in attendance…I wanted to bring Caprica to the room to play and relax after today, but now I've got to be at the Head of Gryffindor table when I'm given the Head Girl duty. What am I going to do? It's mental. Like I don't have enough on my plate already, I'm expected to be Head Girl?"
There was a notable silence in her partner. A divide in the warmth of his eye.
Her frantic panic screeched to halt. "What?"
He glanced down at his shoes. "I received a letter this summer. It informed me of my preference for Head Boy."
"Wow," she breathed. "Congratulations. You should be Head Boy. You've worked so hard -."
"But they said my extracurricular activities were not what they wanted represented in a Head Boy."
Draco Malfoy was a noble wizard. He tried very hard to live with honor and dignity. The witty sharp tongue in his mouth convoluted his true self with a rude, arrogant wizard.
All his life, he thrived in school. His work was only second to her own. Studies were the forefront of his entire career in Hogwarts.
The promise of Head Boy was all that it took to encourage him to be what the school expected of him. He studied. Quidditch was given second priority, often pulling extra practices and keeping the team educated on the other teams strategies.
In spite of the birth of his daughter, Draco managed to be present for every practice and match of his house team, turned in every assignment, passed every class with flying colors and continued his prefect duties. It was not done with ease. He balanced his schedule carefully, as Hermione had done, to ensure all his responsibilities were met.
He deserved Head Boy. More than any other wizard in their year, Draco should have been chosen.
"They've awarded it to Anthony Goldstein."
Anthony was a great wizard. He truly was. But he was no Draco Malfoy.
She frowned. "Oh, Draco. I'm so sorry."
He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I don't need their bloody badge to know I'm the best wizard in this castle."
It was a sad attempt at deflecting his pain. She saw it.
She ran a hand down his arm. "You are Head Boy to me, Draco."
"I better be, love." He gave a small smile. "I better be the only eye candy you devour."
It was magic, the way he cured her lowered spirits.
Her energies were restored. The panic of being a mother in Hogwarts did not seem so overwhelming. The frightful patter of her pulse quieted back into the flow of her arteries as it should, steady and strong. She was Hermione Granger. Not some ninny.
The growing noise of the Great Hall became quieted. It was a signal that the feast would start soon.
Draco glanced over his shoulder at the wide-open doors. "I'll take her in for a bit just for a quick spot and then I'll lay her down."
Hermione stood with growing resentment of how much Hogwarts controlled her. It gave her no options. Things were forced on her, in punishment, like it was normal to push a student to their breaking point.
It made her blood boiled to the point of frothing.
She was not a puppet for their enjoyment. She was a witch of her own making.
"No," she said firmly. "You enjoy your feast, Draco. Don't worry about it."
He flexed his brow curiously.
"Just wait and see." She planted a kiss on his cheek. "Make sure you have a good view. Both your girls are going to be center stage."
The return feast was a huge affair. Every person in the castle, student and faculty, joined together in the massive expanse of the Great Hall to celebrate the first night of school. Hogwarts made every dish in their arsenal. Plates were piled high with delectable desires in true celebration.
Hermione Granger joined her house, the first time in almost a year since she was forced into the den of the lions after being drove away by the pride. Now, it was she who burned with pride. In her arms was her infant daughter. She displayed the child for the school to see that she was not ashamed of who she was, or what she did.
Professor McGonagall wore a pointed grimace as Hermione was appointed as Head Girl. She made a point to avoid eye contact with the blaring might of Hermione's lioness glare that merely whispered what would be done if mention of Caprica was introduced. The badge was fixed alongside her prefect badge.
The eyes of the room did little to dimmish the confidence. Her daughter was cradled amongst her school robes in reminder that if she was expected to be all that she was, it would be done with the full extent of herself: mother, included.
Caprica's bright blonde hair glowed beneath the light of the Great Hall. She was wide-eyed in her curiosity at the place surrounding them. Noises caught her attention. Her head turned one way then another.
Gryffindors of her year looked on. It was the first of their seeing her child. She made a point to avoid any sight of them near her daughter the previous term. They had no right. It was hers to experience, not theirs.
Lavender's strawberry blonde waves rested against Ronald's shoulder. She did her best to look disgusted, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. There was longing – the longing that every witch had. Caprica was a stunning infant. Every piece of her body was chiseled of holy marble, perfect and unblemished by a smidge of disproportion. As child of Ron's had no chance of being so breathtaking.
She anticipated regret in her ex, but not at the lengths it was written throughout his face. His throat bobbed. His eyes over her like a glass of water in a hot summer sun. Unreachable.
It filled her with such joy.
Hermione made sure to give a flashing smile over to the Slytherin table where a proud Draco stood in careful watch over his two girls. One hand rested in his pocket. A subtle lift of his features from their stoic indifference.
After the sorting ceremony, she went to the Slytherin table. Draco took their daughter from her. If only to spend a bit more time with his beloved offspring before the end came all too soon. He dreaded it all holiday. Their required separation at night. He, to be in his dormitory with his other peers, while Hermione and Caprica lived in their private chambers.
It was the bane of his final year. Every piece of him seethed when his father delivered the news that Draco would not be granted access to his daughter within castle walls that went beyond the hours of curfew.
"It is my right as her father," he had proclaimed. "She is mine, too."
"It doesn't make you any less of a father," Hermione had said in the quiet hopes it might lull his insecurity back down to its murky depths. His place was secured in their lives. There was no one it needed proving to. Not even her.
Draco had paced the length of his suite of Malfoy Manor. The clenching and unclenching of his jaw as he walked back and forth until it gave her a headache to watch him.
"Yes, it does. It takes anyway every ounce of my dignity to be denied her. It isn't just your responsibility. I'm in there, too."
"Of course you are." Her voice had fallen gentle. "They are just trying to calm parents. They think it's a celibate campus. Our circumstance negates that stance. They're just being over the top to ensure it doesn't happen again."
The subject was still touchy. Draco growled any time it was mentioned.
They spent their feast together with their friends, leaving when Caprica became restless in their arms. The family excused themselves for the night. None of them suggested anything to counter their plans, which was a blessed relief because they yearned for alone time together rather than with their peers.
The private chamber was the exact same as it had been when they departed the term before.
Draco spread out a blanket in front of the fireplace as a soft rug for his daughter's play space. He removed his dark robes. They were tossed over the bedspread before he laid himself on his belly beside the child. He handed her a pair of stuffed unicorns, a rattle in the shape of a dragon with a bell on the bottom end, and some plush books with fabric pages embroidered with animals and numbers. Their pale faces glowed in the orange hue of firelight.
Long legs stretched across the floor. They tripped up Hermione every trip from the trunks to the chest of dressers. She organized all their belongings in the correct shelves. Nappies and wipes placed in reachable areas. Toiletries were placed in the loo. All her school textbooks were settled in place on her bedside table for late night studying.
A tote of toys – a gift from Narcissa and Lucius – was settled against Caprica's cot. They were meant to age with her, as she grew throughout the term, so that she was given all the supplies age required. Hogsmeade did not hold much selection. There was no option for infant care in the boarding school village. They were lucky to have a candy shop.
Narcissa ensured that all of the childcare items were delivered to Hogwarts. Lucius had taken a personal day to ensure that all of his grandchild's needs would be met without delay. The Headmaster Dumbledore was given a direct access to Lucius's office so that a note would be dispatched immediately.
Professor Snape himself was given instruction to notify the Malfoy parents of any needs Draco or Hermione might require.
It would be done with a great sigh and at no small inconvenience to the Head of Slytherin house, but the wizard would do it.
There was a gift in the chamber that she suspected was of his donation. A test tube holder with little glass vials corked with pale orange liquid inside sat on the desk. It was given a simple note of explanation – no name. Daily vitamin for breastfeeding mothers.
She smiled down at the collection of vials and set them in the loo for safe keeping.
There were several minutes of pure silence before she looked up from her work, surprised to find Draco watching her. A curl was tucked behind her ear. "What?"
"Nothing." He shrugged. "I just like watching you."
"Aren't you supposed to be watching our daughter?"
He smirked. "She fell asleep. I already put her to bed."
Hermione hadn't noticed. "Oh." She lowered her hands.
Draco's body lengthened as he stood. The wrinkles in his black trousers loosened themselves free. The height of his shoulders clicked into place, stretched the white shirt across his chest with definition to the toned torso beneath it. Her eyes lingered too long, and when his eyes caught notice of her notice, they danced with excitement.
She turned away with a blush. Her eyes back to sorting the supplies she'd brought for the year. Parchment rolls, inkwells, an array of quills. They were all placed atop the desk.
The growing dark outside the windows spoke to the hour. Curfew would be upon the castle in only a short hour.
She pretended not to notice the silent approach of Draco behind her back, not even when the tips of his fingers caressed up her sides and rode along her curves until they reached her torso. Breath caught tight in her chest when he pressed against her back. Slender arms wrapped around her. The heat of his breath pushed against the tender flesh of her neck.
"You looked breathtaking when they named you Head Girl," he murmured. He gave a gentle peck against her neck.
A cheeky grin spread across her lips as she continued to unpack her clothing. The soft fabric in her hands as she felt his heat travel down the back of her neck down her spine.
"I'd have look better if I didn't have to wear my robes, don't you think?"
A soft hitch in his breath halted the heat of his lips against her throat. It only resurged with vengeance.
Hermione allowed his hands to convince her to shred her layers and share her inner warmth. Their bodies rejoined with strength and raw power as their souls stripped bare and bonded tighter. Time apart only made them more urgent to find that connection again.
They'd just became redressing when a knock interrupted their atmosphere.
Her face burned hot. She rushed to button the numerous buttons of her shirt. The height of her hair was twice its size. Draco, too, was clearly lazily dressed with wrinkled trousers and a crumbled collar. His lips were swollen and bright red.
"Merlin," she whimpered. Her hands touched the knob.
There was no way they would not be punished. It was clear what they were doing.
She yanked open the door and blanched.
A pair of piercing dark eyes looked back. The wash of despair and regret coated her face as she allowed the professor to step through the threshold. Black billowy robes dragged across her foot as he passed.
"Mister Malfoy," he pronounced. His eyes examined the disheveled student with that calculating precision. Professor Snape was not dull. He knew what it meant to have a tousled male student in a female dormitory. It was well within his right to have detention assigned to the pair of them making their lives total agony to convince them to abstain within castle walls. He, however, said nothing of the capacity. "I am here to escort you to the Slytherin common room where you are to remain for the entirety of the night."
Hermione was speechless. A personal escort?
No seventh year was given a supervised return to their common room. It was their responsibility to return within the allotted time. First years were trusted to do so.
"Has something happened?" She asked.
Draco, too, was suspicious. Tension filled his through his posture, rigid and elevated.
"It has been brought to the headmaster's attention," he drawled slowly in great irritation to have to speak at all, "that Mister Malfoy has been out of bed during curfew and is instead sleeping in your room, Miss Granger."
Hermione flashed a glance at Draco. He'd never been caught before. It was only the first night of term. They hadn't done anything past curfew yet.
"An unfounded accusation, professor. You'll find I've never been seen outside my dorm after curfew. Check the points. Slytherin has not suffered any point loss at my hand." A subtle raise of the professor's brow caused Draco to amend his statement. "Any point loss from curfew breaking, I mean."
A few hexes from his wand, even though they were directed at bullies against their daughter and their situation, still pulled points from his house.
"It would seem that a professor has been concerned of the fact and a prefect has given evidence to support the theory."
A rush of coldness filtered down her spine.
She narrowed her eyes. "Which professor?"
It was a gross invasion to out a fellow prefect. Professor Snape would never reveal their name. The accusing professor, though, was not privy to that privilege.
The ebony haired professor flashed a knowing look. There was little mystery to it. He was not above the wrath of the professor the same as Draco was not.
"Professor McGonagall."
Draco's jaw clicked closed. "This is ridiculous. Slander. I'm being persecuted by a biased professor, sir. You must see it."
"After hour visits to a female student is forbidden, Mister Malfoy. It is a serious breach of Hogwarts rules."
"Even if it is my child?" He snarled. His feet stepped forward. Brow furrowed in icy anger. "I have as much right to my child as Hermione does. I have a right to be here."
The professor looked down his hooked nose with obvious distain for involvement in personal student matters. He released a sigh.
"Come along, Mister Malfoy. You will have plenty of time to retire and perhaps write a letter before curfew's end."
The blonde was not eager, but he did not physically fight with the professor. He gave a quick hug as a parting gesture before he slipped into the corridor with the professor behind him.
It was cruel, the way they punished Draco. Hermione's was bad enough, but his was far worse. Being denied access to his family only reinforced the idea that a wizard's role in his copulation was that he refrain from doing it again – not that he take responsibility and care for what he'd made.
Hermione was so disgusted. Professor McGonagall's involvement in Hermione's family had gone beyond meddling. It fell under the manipulation category right under the demise tab.
The professor had not liked Draco from the start. She treated him as a sidenote. It did not matter if he was the father, so long as Hermione was the mother and behaved as a single mother would.
It was totally unethical to use another prefect as an excuse to keep Draco away from his own daughter.
That Gryffindor rage boiled inside.
Caprica was a child. A child with two parents who loved her completely. If anyone – including an arrogant, demeaning witch like McGonagall – thought they would skate away unscathed after trying to severe the bond Draco had with his daughter, they had made a fatal error.
She crafted a letter to the headmaster himself to read. The constant interruptions of the Gryffindor professor's intentions were beyond inappropriate. It was not a professor's job to force their opinions on students, much less shape their lives against their will.
A well-written, vague threat of intervention from the Malfoy family was also signed at the end.
Satisfied, she wrote another letter to Narcissa to explain the situation. She did not want the Malfoy's unnotified of the situation and Hermione's response in case it was mentioned in some kind of meeting with the school. The Malfoy's were a formidable team when well informed. She wanted them to have every chance to prepare a hell storm for Professor McGonagall.
The next morning, Caprica and Hermione posted the letters at the Owlery before they went to the Great Hall for breakfast. They enjoyed a warm meal with their friends. Pansy could not stop holding the small infant in her arms.
"I don't think I've ever held a baby before," she commented as she stared down at the wide-eye gaze of the Malfoy child. "They all are screaming and wiggling and puking. With their gross scrunched faces. And no teeth. Ugh." The witch cringed. "But she's so calm. That beautiful face is so content. I cannot fathom the difference."
Hermione smiled down at her daughter's face. Her anxiety was mounded high throughout. It forced her stomach to remain unsettled in her small breakfast, threatening to upheave every moment.
"She has her moments," Hermione said. "Like her father."
"I heard that," he grumbled.
Draco's mood was foul that morning. He was still upset about the night prior. His lips were in a permanent scowl. His porridge was more pleasant looking than he.
"I thought all Malfoy nippers were prats." Pansy smiled. "It is lucky she's got plenty of you, Hermione, or else, I'd fear for the magical world."
They shared a small laugh. Draco frowned deeper.
It was the first day of classes. The first day of seventh year and all Hermione wanted to do was curl back in bed with her daughter in her arms.
Neither wanted to part from their daughter so soon but the Ministry declared they be kept to the same standard of every other student in attendance.
"Professor Burbage does the creche class, doesn't she?" Pansy smoothed the blonde hairs away from Caprica's forehead. They were fine strands, pure white.
Creche. A new elective specifically for Caprica to be cared for.
It was too kind of the professor to offer to teach it. Without her, they might have been forced to bring the baby to their class which would hinder both of their learning, not to mention everyone else's.
The young mother sighed in defeat. "Yes. She's managed to summon enough people to sign up so that we don't have to bring her to any class."
"That's wonderful," Daphne offered. "I'd be nervous to have her in class."
"Well, she wouldn't be permitted in any D.A.D.A. class or potions at all," Hermione explained.
"You know the numpties we go to school with."
Pansy quickly agreed. "Exactly. Finnegan manages to explode everything. Who's to say that he wouldn't explode something in Transfiguration?"
It was a thought Hermione hadn't considered. "Perhaps you're right. We are lucky."
"Who all is in the class anyway? I wouldn't trust just anyone to take care of her."
"Mostly witches," Hermione answered. "A couple each period."
Little arms reached up from Caprica's bundle. Her little hands swatted at the low hanging strands of Pansy's bob.
"Yeah, but who?"
Hermione shook her head. "It is not information that can be shared with other students."
Slender, well-tended eyebrows jumped on Pansy's face. She jerked her attention away from the baby in her arms to her childhood friend, Draco. "Are you serious? They won't tell you just who gets to touch your daughter?"
It was not information that made Draco happy either. "There's nothing we can do."
"Your parents couldn't fight it?" She retorted.
"They're busy fighting so much other stuff," Hermione answered. "This is something we just have to accept. Professor Burbage won't let anything happen to her."
The Slytherin witch snorted. "I better go see what periods I can spare to sign up." She looked to every other seventh year Slytherin. "I expect you all to do the same."
Millicent and Daphne frowned. Their faces downturned in pity.
"I need all my free periods to study," Millicent answered. "I need all the time I can get to pass my exams."
"Me, too."
Caprica started to fuss. Her late morning feeding was due soon.
Draco decided to take it, since he was in a low mood. The low moods were ones that Caprica remedied pretty fast compared to other things like pouting, brooding and snogging.
His eyes studied his daughter's face as she nursed from the bottle. Her eyes grew heavy. The warm milk lulled her asleep as he cradled her.
Though his frown remained, the deep wrinkles lessened.
All too soon, the time came for class to start. Caprica was due to be dropped off with Professor Burbage in her new classroom. Hermione was anxious to stand from the table. It was really happening. She would be without her daughter and unable to see her if she wanted to.
"This is too hard," she whined gently as she looked into Draco's arms. "I can't give her away. It doesn't feel right. She belongs with us."
"I know," he said. His eyes were low in the corners. Sadness in the same places hers was.
She felt wetness come to her vision. It was unstoppable once it started. She rested her cheek against Draco's arm, unwilling to show how devastated she was.
Every working mother in the muggle world did it. They were forced to leave their infant with someone else so they could do what they needed to do. Hermione never gave thought to it. Women's rights were never questioned. If a woman wanted to work, she should be able to.
Hermione found it impossible to believe any woman would leave their small child without something else forcing them to; the threat of starvation, eviction or total scrutiny if they did, the only thing stronger than the instinct to remain close with their child.
She suddenly apologized to all those mothers whom she criticized for abandoning successful careers to tend to their children and home. Now that she was a mother, she realized how strong the emotion was. It lived inside her chest. Caprica mattered more. Her safety and wellbeing and happiness paramount to anything else in the world.
It was the hardest moment of her life. One that she lingered inside of.
"I'll take her," Draco finally said.
"What?" She blinked.
"You aren't ready to do it," he pointed out. "Let me take her to Professor Burbage. It's on my way."
Hermione wiped her cheeks. "What kind of mother would I be if I didn't stay with her?"
"The best kind." He assured her as best he could. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'll take good care of her."
"I know you will, darling."
The pair were forced apart, Hermione back toward the greenhouses outside, Draco to his Charms class.
It was the beginning of a very long term where being separated was the constant sore on their hearts. One that everyone sought to tear deeper.
A/N: Thanks for waiting patiently for this update. I promise it is not abandoned. I love it a lot. I just don't want to rush through and ruin this fic. I will not leave it unfinished so please don't worry!