One Month Later
Hermione barely bothered to look up from the television as Daphne walked into the living room.
‘I’m not really feeling up to- Ouch!’ she cried out, as an apple hit her forehead. ‘What was that for?’ She rubbed at her head as Daphne picked up another apple to throw.
‘You’ve been saying that for the last four weeks now. You’ve barely left the sofa and-‘ Daphne took a step towards her and loudly sniffed. ‘Seriously, when was the last time you showered?’
‘Leave me alone.’ Hermione muttered darkly, attempting to bury herself beneath the duvet only for her friend to whip it away. ‘Hey!’ she exclaimed, crossly. ‘Careful. Baby growing here.’
‘My point entirely,’ said Daphne, giving Hermione’s huge belly a quick rub before being swatted away. ‘You are sorely running out of outside time before you pop. If you’d come to the window, you might even see some daffodils.’
‘You over-look a car-park.’
‘Emphasis on the uncertain part of that sentence.’ Daphne leaned over the back of the sofa and began to tug playfully on Hermione’s arm. ‘Come on! The more I see of you moping there, the more I think my sister’s won.’ She pulled a face. ‘You know how that really kills me.’
‘Don’t want to.’ Hermione buried her face into her sofa cushions.
Daphne merely sighed. ‘You push a hard bargain,’ she said, reaching for the telephone that her Muggle landlord had installed for her. ‘HEY, IS THAT DRACO?’ She all but yelled down it. Hermione’s head shot up. ‘YEAH. YEAH. HERMIONE WON’T TAKE HER… ERM- WHAT DO YOU CALL THEM? OH YES, FOLIC ACID SUPPLEMENTS! YEAH. COME OVER NOW!’ She laughed as Hermione sat up, as fast as she could in her state, and snatched the phone from her hands, slamming it back down into the receiver.
‘What are you doing?’ she cried, throwing the phone back onto the messy coffee table. ‘We had an agreement! I- You didn’t call him, did you?’ she added, darkly, as Daphne burst out laughing.
‘Your face,’ she snorted. ‘Seriously, as if I would even know his number!’ She straightened up and placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘But be fair. You need to start doing stuff again. Sitting inside, in the dark,-‘ She gestured to the curtain-drawn windows. ‘-isn’t good for you. Get up, take a shower, brush your hair and put something nice on. We’re going out.’ Her hand shot up just as Hermione began to complain. ‘No buts, otherwise I’ll send an owl to your baby daddy and get him to come here and lecture you for me.’
Hermione slowly stood up, pushing her limp hair away from her face. ‘Where are we even going?’
‘Does it matter?’ Daphne pinched her nose. ‘Shower now or I’ll get a bucket.’
It took Hermione an age to waddle over to the small bathroom, remove her old pyjamas (‘I’m going to have to burn these,’ Daphne groaned, as she poked her head around the door and grabbed them from the floor with a pair of tongs.) and squeeze herself into the miniscule shower cubicle. At almost thirty three weeks pregnant, she was almost fit to burst; her stomach sticking out in front of her like a warning sign. She had learnt to be careful of falling asleep on the sofa otherwise Daphne would start balancing things on it. Her record so far was nine plates, stacked one on top of each other, before Hermione had jolted awake.
Closing her eyes, Hermione turned the tap on full blast. As the hot water began to rain down over her face and onto her sore body, Hermione felt the baby begin to stir inside of her.
‘Hey, little guy,’ she whispered. It lazily kicked back in reply.
As the water turned grey under her feet, Hermione’s thoughts wandered down an unwelcome route: Draco. A month had passed since she had last seen him. More than that, she realised, a strange ache in her chest. 33 days. At least he had honoured her request, she thought, no owls, no knocks at the door, no appearing without warning. He had given her space. He had given her what she wanted. So why could she find no joy in it?
Now and then- well, no, more regularly than that, she thought of him. She wondered what he was doing. What he had eaten. If he slept well. If his insomnia was bad again. Daily, she would pore over the Prophet in hope of a mention, just to see what his name looked like in print. One day, a good day, there had even been a photo of him in the society section. He had been snapped at a black-tie event, a charity ball, decked out in his tuxedo with his hair neatly gelled down. The camera had caught him off-guard at the time; his lips moved to smile at it awkwardly, a champagne glass in hand, before turning away time and time again. He looked… well enough, Hermione had thought, a bit worn down. Maybe his insomnia was bad again. Not that she dared ask. She had kept the clipping though, hidden under her pillow. Now and then, she would bring it out and watch him smile awkwardly up at her.
Daphne’s loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
‘You haven’t drowned in there yet, have you?’ she called through. ‘Because I really don’t want to have to explain to the landlord why I have a dead, naked, pregnant chick in my shower.’ Hermione quickly switched it off, stumbled out and wrapped herself in a towel.
‘Coming,’ she said, unleashing a thick torrent of steam as she opened the bathroom door. ‘Better?’ Daphne leaned against the opposite wall and raised her eyebrows.
‘Better but not good enough,’ she said, herding a soaking wet Hermione into her bedroom. ‘Now, let me dress you for a change. No excuses.’
An hour later, having been subjected to a range of beautiful treatments and squeezed into a bright-yellow maternity dress (‘I swear if you even look at your pyjama bottom drawer one more time, I will swap the pain meds at the birth with Tic-Tacs,’ Daphne growled. ‘Yes, I know what they are.’), Hermione was ready. Eyeing herself nervously in the mirror, she pulled uncertainly at a strand of straightened hair.
‘I look so… bright,’ she said eventually. From behind her, Daphne raised an eyebrow as she peered over Hermione’s shoulder, drawing on her eyeliner.
‘You look like a glowing mother-to-be. Which you are so it fits.’ She casually threw her eyeliner onto the bed and grabbed Hermione’s arm. ‘Time to go.’
The early March sunlight was horrendously bright in contrast to the darkened living room. Hermione had to squint as they clambered down the two flights of stairs and out onto the street. Already out of breath, she took a moment to lean against the door, panting wearily.
‘Did you call for a taxi?’ she finally gasped.
‘We’re only going down the road, Your Majesty,’ replied Daphne but she held out her arm and Hermione gratefully took it.
Whilst Daphne’s flat overlooked the back of a busy supermarket car park, the road she lived on was relatively quieter with a few other blocks of flats, a couple shops and a small church next to a community centre. Hermione shot Daphne a puzzled look as they stopped outside of the church.
‘We need to pray for your soul, you pregnant hussy,’ Daphne smirked, before gesturing to the door of the community centre. ‘Our destination is there, never fear. Now go inside!’ Hermione hesitantly did.
Inside, it was pitch black. Having become accustomed to the sunlight again, Hermione squinted into the darkness, just about making out the odd shape. Assuming it was closed, she was just about to turn back when-
‘SSSUUURRRRPPPPRRRRIIIIIIIISE!’
She nearly jumped back straight into Daphne as the lights suddenly flew on and she found herself surrounded by a room full of laughing people. For a moment, she could only gape at them, clutching her chest.
‘Was it really a good idea to surprise her when she’s this pregnant?’ Neville asked nervously, climbing out from behind a leaflet stand, as a babble of chatter rose up. Hermione stared incredulously around herself as a tanned Luna threw her arms around her.
‘Hermione!’ she smiled, brightly, a cascade of dirty-blonde hair falling down her back. Out of all of her friends, Hermione could safely say Luna had changed the least. ‘I just got back yesterday and I have some Newt-grass tea. They reckon it helps with memory problems. Or it could just be Wrackspurt.’ Her eyes narrowed as she peered up at her. ‘It probably is a Wrackspurt.’
‘Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at these things?’ Daphne asked, gently but firmly pushing Hermione away from Luna and into the centre of the room. Hermione gazed about, speechless, at the banners and the balloons. ‘I don’t know. It’s some Muggle party thing, isn’t it?’ She hissed into Hermione’s ear. ‘Thank Merlin for Ginny. I thought she suggested a hen party. I almost ordered strippers for this.’ Hermione could only nod, half-listening.
‘Happy Baby Shower, Hermione!’ Ginny suddenly appeared, wrapping her arms around her shocked friend. ‘We were worried you’d never make it. Right, we’ve got food, presents and games- Are you ok?’
Hermione nodded, tears involuntarily pricking in her eyes. ‘You guys did all of this? For me?’ she finally said, looking around at the room full of her oldest and closest friends.
‘Hey, don’t get too emotional on us,’ Ginny laughed, squeezing Hermione’s shoulders. ‘You threw me all of my baby showers for me. And my hen night!’
‘And you managed to get her hungover arse into work the next morning too which means bonus points,’ Daphne added, shoving Hermione into a spare seat. ‘Can I have your attention please, witches, wizards-‘ Everyone looked up: Harry, Ron, Ginny, George, Angelica, Neville, Luna, Mrs Weasley, even some of her colleagues, even Healer McCarthy.
‘-small children-‘ she added, disdainfully as James ran past, shrieking, with a balloon trailing past him. ‘We are here today to celebrate a very special person who we all love very much-‘ Hermione blushed at that. ‘- and will love her even more when she names her baby after one of us. My money’s on another Daphne.’ Everyone laughed, even Hermione, as she hastily wiped at her eyes. ‘But before we can start present-opening and attacking Mrs Weasley’s beautiful-looking cake, we’re going to have to start with a little game: Seven Minutes In Heaven.’ Hermione could only stare in confusion as Daphne turned back to her with a malevolent grin.
‘Seven minutes in-? Daphne, that’s not a baby shower game,’ she said, watching nervously as her flatmate pulled a blindfold from her back pocket. ‘You don’t use blindfolds- Daphne!’ The room was plunged once more into darkness again as Daphne tied the blindfold securely on.
‘Very funny,’ Hermione called, as she felt herself be guided out of the chair and carefully navigated across the room. ‘This is a great joke but you can really stop it now. But what- what are you doing?’ Her voice rose by a few octaves as she felt herself be guided through a door only for it to be shut loudly behind her.
Tugging off her blindfold, she turned and began to hammer on it, almost tripping over the cleaning products shoved into the closet. ‘Daphne! Ginny!’ she yelled. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ She would have said far more, and worse things too, had the other room not included Mrs Weasley and various children. ‘Get me out of here! Now!’
‘Not until you talk!’ came the reply. Ginny.
‘Talk about what?’ Hermione hammered harder against the plastic.
‘I think she means for you to talk to me.’ A familiar voice said softly from behind her. Hermione froze, her arm raised in mid-air.
‘I’m going to kill you, Daphne Greengrass,’ she hissed through the door. ‘You too, Ginny Weasley.’
‘Come on! You were both driving me up the bloody wall. I had you stinking out my flat, barely bothering to get up from the sofa all day. I then had Malfoy keep popping into my studio, asking question after question. How is she? Does she mention me? How’s the baby? For the love of Merlin, talk to each other and sort whatever issues you have out… And be quick about it, Ron’s already spotted the buffet-‘
Hermione closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool plastic of the door; anything, anything but to turn around. As a photo, she was happy to stare at him from afar. But here? But now? A sudden idea sprung to her mind. Reaching for her pocket, she thought to let herself out with her wand. Daphne couldn’t have locked the door with anything she couldn’t over-ride. But then she realised, with a sinking feeling, that she no longer had pockets. Her wand remained outside, with her so-called friends, stuck in her handbag. No wonder Daphne had made her wear this bloody dress.
‘You look well.’ The dead-pan voice whispered again. Realising she was defeated, Hermione’s shoulders slumped. Turning around, she faced the man who had plagued her thoughts almost constantly for the last month.
He was there, he was real. Barely five feet away from her, Draco leant against the opposite wall, arms folded, a scowl over his handsome features. He wasn’t dressed casually like the others but kitted out in his work robes. Both of his robe sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, revealing the long-sleeved black top he wore underneath. For a split second, his face softened as he caught sight of her in the light yellow dress. But then, once again, his features hardened.
‘You ok?’ he whispered, not unkindly, as Hermione nodded shakily, dropping her gaze. ‘I presume they tricked you too? Don’t bother calling out-’ he added. ‘-until after they pushed you in here, they had all of this sound-proofed.’
‘What excuse did they use for you?’ she whispered back, leaning her back against the door and sliding down to the floor. Draco mirrored her actions but rather with the opposite wall. The closet was horrifically cramped, piles of cleaning product piled precariously in the corners.
‘Misuse of magic call. Apparently, a small boy was setting off fireworks with his dad’s wand. I was surprisingly the only one in the department who was free to see to it. The minute I arrived, they hexed me and threw me in here.’ He smiled momentarily before his expression cooled. ‘So how has having space been for you?’
‘Draco-‘ Hermione gulped back desperately, her throat suddenly bone dry. ‘I never meant-‘
‘I don’t remember much of your etiquette skills when we were at Hogwarts but I don’t remember it being very polite to ditch people with just a hasty note left on the kitchen table. Or maybe I just need to reacquaint myself with the mannerisms of 1998.’
Draco, I-‘ He held up his hand.
‘I really thought we were really getting somewhere.’ Hermione closed her eyes, feeling his grey eyes pierce into her face. ‘I thought we were really going to make things work. For ourselves and for the baby. Then, out of the blue, with no explanation, you vanish. Why?’ His tone was ice-cold and sharp. Hermione could feel it almost cutting into her.
‘I didn’t want to get in the way of things with Astoria-‘
‘With Astoria?! There’s never been things going on with Astoria!’ He finally raised his voice above a whisper, all but spitting the last word out. But now Hermione’s temper was beginning to flare.
‘What do you mean there was nothing between you and Astoria? The balls, the lunches, Christmas dinner!’ she spat back, looking up to meet his stare defiantly. ‘Whenever I asked you about her, you wouldn’t give me a straight answer. You just trailed off… What the hell was I supposed to think? She all but came around and told me you were both loved up!-‘ Draco’s head shot up.
‘Wh-what? When was this?’
‘Before I left. Matter of fact, the day before I left. She all but stormed into your house and told me to- to what was her words- to get my claws out of you!’
‘She did that? But she wouldn’t. She knew how things were… Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘What was the point?’ Hermione was too angry to feel awkward anymore; she all but glared at him. ‘In her head, the two of you were all loved up. She stood in front of me, closer than we are now.-‘ Draco winced and looked away. ‘And told me to my face that we weren’t meant to be together. That only the baby and I stood in the way of your happiness.’ She leaned against the door, her cheeks flushed, all but shaking with anger. ‘Daphne, seven minutes have got to be up by now… Get me out of here.’
‘Not even close,’ came the reply.
‘So Astoria told you all of this?’ Draco said, his voice dropping to a whisper. He shook his head numbly. ‘But she knew… And she told you nothing of what the lunches were about?’
Hermione shook her head, angrily rubbing at her damp cheeks. Draco wordlessly reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He held it out to her but her arms remained stubbornly by her sides.
He sighed, dropping his arm. ‘What I’m going to tell you stays in this room and this room alone. A few months ago, word got around the Ministry that a new department was being set up: the Department of the Magic Economy. It was, for a while, the Ministry’s worse-kept secret. People were going on that Shacklebolt was looking for a head. People were placing bets on who they thought it could be. I-‘ He paused, pushing his hair back irritably. ‘I can’t deny it but I was desperate to get it. I’d been waiting for an opportunity like it for years. Don’t get me wrong. I love law enforcement but I wanted a chance to really shine. I knew though, even with all the work I’d done, I wouldn’t get in. No matter what good you do, people never seem to forget the bad.
‘For a while, when you left me the first time, after the hospital, I poured everything into my job. It was the only thing for a while, other than the baby, that kept me going. I worked… shift after shift. Did all the paperwork I could get my hands on but I knew, I just knew, I’d be over-looked.
‘Astoria worked part-time in Shacklebolt’s office. I’d see her now and then at work; tried to avoid her mostly. She was always overly flirty with me, even when she was dating others. I liked her enough when we were at Hogwarts. I found her attention at the time amusing. But then I realised I could use her attention to suit me. To suit us. Her parents aren’t the nicest people in the world. You’d know that well enough from Daphne but they, at least, were neutral during the War and they had links.’
‘So you used Astoria to get close to the Minister? You manipulated her?’ Hermione asked, coolly. Draco flushed angrily.
‘I wouldn’t. From the start, I was clear on my intentions. That I wanted to reacquaint myself with the old families. The families I had grown up with. Don’t look at me like that. I can’t help that she took it for more than what it was. I just wanted this position so badly. I thought that if I went about it this way, if I could raise the Malfoy name again, people would look at us differently. That people would look beyond the past. They’d see we weren’t all bad.’
‘What happened?’ Hermione’s face softened slightly as she watched the tears silently roll down his cheeks.
‘Shacklebolt pulled me aside a few weeks ago. He complimented me on all the work I had done; how much I had helped the department. But then he told me he was putting Percy Weasley in charge of the Economy. My plan failed. Shacklebolt had noticed but rather than boost my standing in his eyes, it only really concerned him to see me rubbing shoulders again with the ‘old Pureblood lot’. He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t falling back into my old ways.’ Draco laughed, a cool, humourless, bitter laugh. ‘So there. That’s the story of Astoria and me. If it’s any consolation at all, we fell out after you left. Somehow she thought with you gone, it was an invitation to move herself fully into my life. When I turned her down, she left in a huff. I haven’t spoken to her since and I’m in mind, after all of this, not to again.’
‘Draco-‘
‘Well, after you both left, I found myself with nothing. I visited Daphne’s flat sometimes. I only stood outside though. I didn’t think you would have wanted me to knock.’
‘Draco-‘
‘I thought though of you every day. Every hour. Just going back over the memories again and again. Wondering where I had gone wrong. Where had things started to unravel. Was it the car accident? Before it? We fought then too.’ His silvery eyes looked pleadingly, from across the closet, into hers. ‘Just give me an answer. Put my mind at rest. Do we have a future?’
‘Draco-‘
‘Just answer me honestly. Whatever you say, I can live with it. If you want a divorce and you want to keep the baby, I won’t say no. I’ll support you both. He’ll have the best of everything. Just please. Please answer my question.’
‘Draco-‘
‘Do you love me?’
Hermione’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came to her lips. Sitting there, facing him, a million responses came before her, a million images flitting across her mind. She could answer in the negative. She could leave here, leave now with some integrity. Once the baby was born and settled with him, she could take a step back. Reclaim her old life. Allow herself the freedom, the time, to recover. Away from everyone. Away from here. She could start her life all over again. Take back the years she had lost.
But no matter how far she could run, the years were still gone. The memories only slowly crawling back. In her mind, she was still the Hermione Granger of 1998 but 1998 was long-gone. The world hadn’t stopped but had spun on. Her friends were older. They looked different, acted differently. They had jobs, mortgages, pets and children. They had grown with her, changed with her, over the last ten years and she was the only one stuck in the past.
But then again, she wasn’t the only one. She watched as another tear slowly traced its way down Draco’s cheek. Never, never in a million years had Hermione Granger expected her life to turn out like this. Never had she expected to see things like this. Never had she expected to see Draco Malfoy, the bane of her Hogwarts years, open his soul to her.
A sharp kick from the baby brought Hermione back to the present. Yes, perhaps she did yearn for the past. With an aching heart, she thought of Hogwarts and of the life she had left behind there. She yearned most of all for the person who she used to be: a person with the right mindset in the right time. But even above all of this, even above her desire for it, there was something that she wanted more. And only space and time had shown her this.
She wanted Draco Malfoy.
It seemed impossible to digest, impossible to even consider. The boy she had hated, her former enemy, her former tormentor, had grown into the man she loved. The War had taken everything from them: their innocence, their childhoods, their minds. It didn’t matter who they had fought for, whether good or bad, the War had left them broken. Empty.
Only with Draco though did she feel whole.
There was only one answer.
‘Yes,’ she whispered back, tears running unchecked down her face. She held out her hand. ‘Yes.’
For a moment, he sat frozen, his features twisting through different emotions: hope, confusion, disbelief, then joy.
‘Really,’ he whispered, crawling across the short space until his face was close to hers. ‘You really mean it?’
‘Really,’ she whispered back, her hand moving up to caress his pale face, her thumb gently stroking the tears from his cheek. She stared deep into his ash-grey eyes, finally feeling the pieces fall into place. ‘I never realised before. I never thought I’d say it but… I love you, Draco Malfoy. I want to be with you.’
His face broke into a wide smile. ‘I love you too, Hermione Granger.’ He swept her hair over her shoulder. ‘Always have and I always will.’ He leant forward and captured her lips with his.
From deep within her amnesia-ridden mind, a memory slowly came to her of another kiss. White sand between their toes. Blue sea crashing at their feet. The sun streaming onto their heads. But it was only them. It was only ever them.
Not that it would only ever be them. Between them, the baby kicked out, somersaulting joyfully between his parents.
***********************************
‘It’s been an hour already, Daphne. Shouldn’t we let them come out now?’ Ginny sighed, drooping in her chair. All over the room, people coughed awkwardly, checked watches. ‘The boys have already eaten all the food.’ The buffet table was all but demolished. Mrs Weasley looked despairingly at the remains of her cake.
The baby shower was still going on but without the mother-to-be, it was pointless. George and Angelica had already made their excuses and left, needing to sort things out at the shop and relieve the babysitter. The rest of the group just sat about, watching the closet door with a growing mixture of boredom and exasperation. Only Daphne, her chair protectively covering the door, seemed to be enjoying herself.
‘Ssshh… I can hear something.’ She pointed her wand at the lock before throwing the door wide open. The guests gasped as they spotted the pair with their lips locked. ‘Time’s up!’ Daphne called. ‘Have you guys made up- Ok… you may have more than made up.’ She stepped back as Hermione and Draco slowly, stiffly and sheepishly walked back out. Their friends stared at them eagerly, noting the dishevelled hair, the crumpled clothing, the faint lipstick stains on Draco’s lips-
‘So… how did it go?’ Ginny asked.
Hermione sighed and looked up at Draco. ‘Well, we talked and we’ve decided that-‘ She took his hand in hers. ‘-we’re too troublesome for other people so we might as well be together.’ She smiled up at him as the room rang out with applause. Almost instantly, they were barraged by people, by hugs, by love.
‘I told you locking them in the closet would work!’ Daphne’s voice rang out clearly over the excited din. ‘And none of you believed me!’
Hermione laughed as she untangled herself from Mrs Weasley’s hug and threw her arms around her purple-haired friend’s shoulders. ‘I’m still going to get you for the whole closet thing, you know,’ she whispered into Daphne’s ear. Daphne only smirked in reply.
‘Can we open the presents now?’ piped up a sleepy Albus, as he and James woke up to all the raucous.
‘After some food though,’ Draco smiled at Hermione as he threw his arm around Hermione’s shoulder and moved her towards the buffet table. ‘All that talking has made us hungry and-‘ He stared down dejectedly at the empty plates. ‘Wait… where did all of the food go?
*********************************
[A/N: I know I promised this on what would have effectively been yesterday but I’m currently kind of ill and laden down with revision and various other university-related stuff. Don’t worry. Whilst this chapter does have a happy ending, this isn’t the ending of the story just yet.
*Gasp* But more drama? And after they declared their undying love for each other?
Yes. Yes. More drama. Thank you for voting and reading and for all your comments. I’ll hopefully get another chapter up sometime soon, if not by tomorrow or over the weekend. Thanks again! CW13]