Light
__________
"We need to fucking leave."
Draco tiredly blinked at him as he shrugged off his Death Eater robes and mask. Glancing at the wall clock in his bedroom in the manor, he noted that it was already three in the morning.
"Where do you want to go at this time of the day?" he asked, plopping down on his bed. Draco closed his eyes and started to clear his thoughts, numbing himself away from the events that had happened earlier.
They were summoned to a Death Eater revel in celebration of another 'victorious' infiltration of an Order safe house. Although not really a fan of these revels, the Dark Lord thought it would be fitting to award his most faithful servants by letting them do whatever they liked to do during days of rest. Seeing that they were the sickest bastards Draco had ever met, his brethren thought pillaging Muggle villages, ransacking their houses, killing and raping and torturing were the best ways to spend their 'rest days'.
Sneering, Draco forced himself to numb his feelings away until all he could feel was... nothing.
"No, dammit, Draco," Theo continued. "As in leave. This life. This place. Everything."
His eyes popped open in clear disbelief. "What the hell, Nott?" he snarled, immediately sitting up from his bed and clutching his wand. He nervously looked at his bedroom door, half-expecting Bellatrix to burst inside and blast them off for even thinking about leaving.
"Draco," his best friend said, striding forward and gripping the blond by his shoulders. "I can see it in you. You want to fucking leave, too."
Draco scowled and was unable to retort something in return. He was, after all, right.
"We should stop kidding ourselves and start making the right choice."
"By betraying the Dark Lord?" Draco thundered and pushed Theo away. "Are you out of your damn mind, Theo? He'll kill us; mercilessly kill us, if he even got wind of what we are talking about right now."
Theo's face helplessly crumpled as he ran a hand through his hair. Draco was driven to look away, unused to the expression on his normally carefree friend. But then again, ever since the war had been at its peak, carefree, quiet Theodore Nott was but a memory for eighteen-year-old Draco Malfoy.
"I can't do this anymore, Draco. I just... I can't." Theo expelled a weary sigh and sunk down on the chair beside the bed. "Please tell me it isn't just me. Please. I can't pretend anymore that what we are doing is right. Our fucking revel a while ago was the last straw. When Greyback... what he did to that little girl, I -" Theo's breath hitched and he paled.
Draco shivered with the memory and turned his face away from Theo. "I can't leave," he finally whispered.
"Yes, you can!" Theo exclaimed, jumping out of his seat to force Draco to look at him. "I know that the only reason you stayed was because of your mother, Draco."
"Don't you dare fucking bring my mother in this ridiculous conversation-"
"YOU CAN'T PROTECT HER HERE!"
Draco's jaw dropped at Theo's declaration, his breath turning ragged and shallow. Theo's face clouded with guilt at his outburst, but his jaw was set with determination. Slowly, Theo sagged down on the bed beside him and looked at him squarely in his eyes. "You can't protect your mother here," he repeated, this time quieter and calmer.
"You don't know what the fuck you are talking about," the blond snarled, whipping his wand underneath Theo's chin.
"Let's face it, Draco, this... this bloody madness isn't healthy for your mother anymore, especially after your father's... death." Draco bared his teeth in anger, but Theo wasn't finished. "The Order... I think they can help her better. Narcissa will be safer under the Order's care rather than surrounded by a bunch of Death Eaters."
Draco's lips thinned with barely suppressed rage, but Theo egged on.
"We know a lot about the Death Eater plans," he reasoned out. "I know we're not exactly the most trustworthy of the lot, but the Order is already being desperate to bring down the Dark Lord. They'll take whatever they can."
"That's a fucking optimistic thought, Nott," Draco snarled with dripping sarcasm. He was, however, already lowering his wand.
Theo blew a frustrated breath and gingerly placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I want this war to end already, Draco," he whispered like a secret, sounding like a lost, vulnerable child. "I want all of this madness to fucking end. If you don't want to defect with me, fine, but I'm still going to do it and you're not going to stop me."
Draco balled his hands into fists, conflicting emotions battling in his mind and heart. Throughout all the confusion, Narcissa's face stood out among them all and Draco desperately, desperately wanted to know what to do to protect his mother.
"They'll kill us," he dully replied, panic rising in his chest at the prospect of really leaving their Death Eater ways.
Theo flashed a brilliant smile despite Draco's morbid words, not missing how he said 'us' instead of 'you'. "Not without my consent, those bastards," he said, already sounding a tad too giddy for Draco's liking.
"No, damn it, you're going to get us killed," Draco snapped in reply. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as adrenaline rushed through his veins and blood pumped to his ears.
"The Order will love us, I promise," Theo said with a cheeky grin. Draco promptly snorted, highly doubting that the people he had hexed and cursed for all of his teenage life would welcome them with open arms. Most especially him – Albus Dumbledore's Almost Murderer. "How could they not when we bring good tidings?"
Draco expelled a deep sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What is your plan then?" he demanded.
Theo sheepishly frowned. "Well... I was hoping you'll help me?"
"You don't have a concrete plan yet?" Draco thundered, sheer disbelief on his face.
"I fucking plan to run away from here, so that's a start."
Draco took a shuddering breath and wearily ran a hand through his face. "You're going to get us both killed," he muttered once more. Slumping on his vast bed, he tiredly closed his eyes. "Leave me be for now, Theo. I need to think about a lot of things."
He heard his best friend sigh and felt his bed shift as Theo stood up.
"You know... Granger will be there."
His eyes flew open in confusion and disbelief. "Why the hell does that even matter?" he snapped, ignoring how his heart sped up a little too quickly for his own liking.
Theo merely gave him a pointed look and sighed. "I thought that might help your decision a little," he confessed. Draco's jaw dropped in rage, but no words flew out form his mouth.
He heard Theo sigh once more and watched him until he was mere meters from his bedroom door.
The Nott heir then slowly turned around, his eyes glinting in the dark room. "Think about this conversation very hard, Draco. This might just be the best fucking decision you have ever made."
__________
Trust
__________
"Are you even listening to me?" Draco snapped in a low whisper, annoyed that Hermione's eyes had glossed over one too many times as he ran over their important mission today. He was already stressed beyond belief and he just wanted to go back home... well, back to Grimmauld Place, if that was even home to him at all.
Hermione had the decency to look a little abashed, but there was also something in her expression, too, that did not sit quite well with Draco.
Scowling, he stood up from his make-shift cot and started to pace the great length of their tent.
"Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry," she hastily snapped, her eyes never leaving his pacing form. "I'm just a little... distracted."
"Distracted?" he thundered, finally skidding in front of her seated form. He towered over her and looked as menacing as he could. To his sheer surprise (and disgruntlement), she shrivelled from his piercing gaze and looked away. Draco instantly knew that there was definitely something wrong; Granger refused to back away from his monumental tantrums, no matter how ridiculous they were.
"We cannot afford to get fucking distracted today, Granger!"
Her face crumpled in annoyance. "I know that," she snapped. "I just..." Her annoyance disappeared, but she still refused to look back at him. "I think I just need some rest."
He expelled a disgruntled sigh and stalked away from the tent. She was supposed to stand guard this time and let him rest. But there was something in her eyes that compelled him to relent, no matter how much he was angry with her right now. Granger never got distracted in their missions; she was always stupidly alert and ready. Sometimes, Draco had a hard time keeping up, not really used to hiding in tents and running around. Granger had a lot of practice during their 7th year – well, his 7th year - since Granger and the Idiots were on the run that time.
Somehow, it scared him a little that her head wasn't in this mission fully. He felt something disastrous was about to happen. Although their mission was simple, Draco couldn't shake off the feeling that something was bound to happen.
As he settled on a fallen log near the entrance of the tent, Draco tried to distract himself by reading one of Granger's books she always brought in their missions. She was fiercely protective of her books that much he deduced during the start of their reluctant partnership. When she grudgingly offered one of her books to him one time, he knew it was a way for her to extend the proverbial olive branch. Ever since then, they had established a truce that was long overdue, especially because McGonagall had this stupid idea that they worked really well together, despite their clashing tempers.
While he was on a particularly gripping part of the book, Draco frowned when he heard unmistakable sniffles. Alarmed, he scooted closer to the tent, wondering if he was merely imagining things during his sleep-deprived state. He gripped the small flap of the tent and peeked inside. His heart fell to his stomach when he heard Granger's soft sobs in the dark tent.
Something was definitely wrong.
-o-
Granger shook him awake when the sun was already rising from the horizon. Draco lightly colored, ashamed that he had fallen asleep when he was supposed to be standing guard for the both of them.
"I... I'm sorry," she sputtered out, cheeks also coloring slightly. Draco's eyes widened in disbelief. "It was my turn last night. I'm sorry."
Despite his fuzzy head, he recalled the soft sobs that tore through her mouth yesterday and looked away. "It doesn't matter, Granger," he said with a heavy sigh. Draco rubbed his heavy eyes and took a deep breath.
"You should get some more sleep."
Draco shook his head. "There's no more time," he said, languidly standing up from the uncomfortable log and stretched luxuriously. "We should go over the plan again."
She hesitated a bit, before finally nodding her head.
Their mission was simple – smuggle some plans from a Death Eater hideout. This hideout was usually crawling with the highest ranking Death Eaters. However, an intel told them that the Dark Lord had called for a big meeting tonight, though, and wanted all his best Death Eaters to attend.
The Order reckoned that something big was about to happen, and Kingsley Shacklebolt had bet these plans would be found in the usually heavily guarded hideout. With all the best Death Eaters away, only lower ranking Death Eaters would most likely stand guard to the place. McGonagall thought it was a stupid suicide mission, but Shacklebolt stood his ground. If something big was to happen, the best that they could do was to at least know what it was and be prepared.
At least five pairs were designated in certain places surrounding the hideout. Potter and Nott were paired together and Draco was still envious that they got to stay incognito in a nearby village, with beds, while he was stuck in a bloody forest with Granger as his partner. Weasley and his fiery sister were also stationed somewhere. He didn't exactly know personally the other two pairs, but Draco didn't bother knowing who they were anyway. He and Granger probably had the most important part in this mission, which was to get the plans themselves. The other pairs were just there to back them up while they blindly searched for them.
"Fucking hell, Granger!" he hollered once more, noticing that she was once more distracted. "If you honestly don't give a flying fuck about this mission, then I suggest you just leave. I can do this myself. Portkey your bloody ass away from here or you'd both get us killed."
He was tired and stressed; he knew it was a bad idea to blow up at her. He braced himself for one of her terrible tirades, but when none came, Draco had had enough of her strange behavior.
"Granger," he said in exasperation, panicking at how her eyes welled with tears. He never, never made her cry because of his temper. Granger usually bit his head off with one of her snarkier tirades, which Theo once teased he secretly enjoyed. "If you're going to seriously jeopardize this mission, I think it's really best if you just leave. I mean it."
His fiery temper had simmered a little when she haphazardly wiped her tears away. "You're right," she murmured. "I'm sorry. I should focus more."
Draco sighed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He could deal with an angry Granger. A crying Granger... well, this was something knew to him.
"What's got you distracted anyway?"
He wasn't expecting an answer, to be honest. Granger had never fully trusted him to confide to him yet. He bloody trusted her, all right. Despite the bad blood, they were now partners, and Granger had too much of a moral fiber to betray him. Draco didn't really fault her for thinking he'd one day betray her instead.
This was why he wasn't really ready with her answer.
"I... Malfoy, I'm pregnant."
Gobsmacked, Draco backpedaled and stared down at her in horror. Panic and awe flittered her face, and she was openly crying this time, not even bothering to wipe her tears away.
"W-what?"
"I'm pregnant," she said with more strength. "I just found out before we left and..."
"Whose?" he sputtered out, then mentally smacking himself after. The answer was sodding obvious, which was why he never really understood why his heart leapt to his throat when she answered it was Ronald Weasley. It was plain to see that two were head over heels in love with each other. Draco always excused himself when the two were in the room together. Theo would appear soon after, a look of understanding on his face, but never commenting anything at all. It was one thing he really liked about Theo, even though he mostly annoyed the hell out of him.
"You should go," Draco ordered once he got over the shock. "Leave. This mission is too dangerous for you already."
Her eyes flashed as she defiantly lifted her chin. Well, this Granger he could bloody well handle. "No," she grounded out. "I'm already here. I just can't leave you alone when our task is the most important in this whole mission."
"Well, you fucking got yourself knocked up so this changes everything." Draco pulled out his wand and she warily gazed at it. "I'm sending McGonagall a Patronus and -"
"NO!" she exclaimed and grabbed onto his magical stick. Draco growled and tried to shake her off, but she held on tighter. "No, it's dangerous. If you'd sent a Patronus, the Death Eaters might see. You'd botch the whole plan."
"Your pregnancy botched the whole thing, Granger." He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. She looked like he might as well have slapped her as she protectively curled a hand around her stomach. More tears stumbled down from her eyes and she looked away.
"It was stupid of us, I know," she muttered quietly and Draco wished that she would at least shout at him. "It was stupid of us for even forgetting a simple contraception spell and consequently bringing forth a child in this cruel, chaotic world.
"Granger -"
"Don't," she warned, glaring at him darkly through her watery eyes. "Don't you even dare apologize, because you were right. The whole plan is ruined because I'm now a liability."
"I didn't say that. I -"
"But I can't bloody leave you right here, right now, can I?" she snapped. Draco's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "I'm your bloody partner, Malfoy. If I leave, I can't rest easy knowing I left you behind. If... if something happened to you, I will never forgive myself."
It was a surprising admission; one Draco never thought he would ever hear from her. He knew she wasn't exactly thrilled they were always paired together. He had once caught her complaining to McGonagall and Shacklebolt to pair her with anyone, even bloody Nott, but not him. There was just too much history between the two of them.
"But... but your child..."
"Tonks had Teddy, but she was still sent to missions," she reasoned out. "Remus wasn't exactly thrilled but... I finally understood why she insisted." Granger ran a weary hand through her tangled curls and sighed. "I just... I can't just sit still, knowing I can do something to finally make this world a better one for my future... child." Her eyes were sparkling as she placed a gentle hand against her stomach. "There might be a time I cannot go to missions, but I know I still can go now. So don't you fucking dare insinuate that I should go back, Malfoy. I might have been admittedly distracted, but Merlin! A child!" A giddy laugh escaped from her lips; Draco thought she was mental.
"Does Weasley know? Potter?"
The smile on her face disappeared as she slowly shook her head. "There was no time," she said. "We were sent immediately after I found out."
"This mission is dangerous, Granger," he pointed out.
"I know."
"What if -"
Hermione sighed, a small smile on her face. "Then, we must both make sure we get back alive, Malfoy," she replied. "It's really rather simple."
Draco glared. It was not simple. It was never simple.
She pulled out her wand and waved it around. The time hovered at the tip, before she waved her wand once more. "The time is near," she announced. "We should get ready to sneak in soon."
-o-
"Why don't you ever listen to me?" Draco angrily whispered as he gripped Hermione's arm and pulled her away. There were shrill alarms resounding in the whole hideout, mingled with the unmistakable footsteps of the Death Eaters.
Glancing around, Draco quickly shoved Granger into a small alcove and held his breath. It was a narrow hiding place and Granger's hair was tickling his nose. She was bent in an awkward angle, her head pressed tightly against his chest; he wouldn't be surprised if she could hear his loudly beating heart. Their limbs were a tangled mess, and Draco's right leg was already protesting from the disturbed blood circulation, but he didn't dare move until all the footsteps had gone.
He quickly stumbled out and almost fell on the floor once the coast was clear. Granger was unfortunate and had fallen on all fours, glaring darkly at Draco. He fiercely returned her glare with his own, effortlessly pulling her back onto her feet.
"I told you to fucking stay put," he hissed, tightly gripping his wand and scanning around. The alarms were still blaring off, but there was no sign of Death Eaters around. Somewhere, he could hear a battle, but it was too far from where he and Hermione were.
"We cannot afford to bloody stay put, Malfoy," she snapped. Waving her wand, a timer was projected from the tip, fannouncing that they only have twenty more minutes before the portkeys were activated. "We're running out of time."
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and turned away. Draco was tempted to blow up at her once more for triggering a booby trap, but like what she had said, they were running out of time. He would give her a piece of his mind later once they got away from this place.
Draco ran as fast as he could, with Hermione steadily following him from behind. They dashed through the stairs and finally skidded in front of a heavily guarded room. Hermione pushed Draco aside and murmured incantations under her breath. The door shimmered and pulsed, sparks of electricity crackling, until there were none. Hermione directed her wand against the door, whispered a soft 'Alohomora', and proudly grinned to herself when the door clicked open.
"Show-off," he murmured under his breath. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and pulled the door open, wands poised for battle.
The room reeked of residual dark magic, and Draco instantly knew this was the room. Judging from Hermione's face, he knew she could also feel the evilness inside. Lifting up his wand, he waved it and whispered a soft, "Accio plans."
When nothing flew into his hands, Hermione snorted. "Right, Malfoy, I can't believe you thought that would work."
"It was worth a try," he snapped, glaring at her bemused face.
"You weren't being specific," she stated matter-of-factly, sounding like the swotty first year she had always been. "So of course you've just wasted your time."
Sighing irately, Draco scanned the room and was dismayed with how impeccable the room was. It was obviously well-kept and heavily guarded. "What do you reckon we do now?" he softly asked, warily gazing at the numerous drawers around.
She bit her bottom lip and deeply thought. "Grab whatever parchment we could find and get the hell away from here," she finally answered.
Draco looked highly skeptical. "That's it?" he inquired. "And risk not getting the real plans?"
"This is a highly guarded room," she snapped. "I can bet that whatever document we find will prove useful for the Order."
She had a point, prompting him to frown. "Fine," he said. He then gestured for her to take the right side, while he scoured the left.
They pulled drawers in haste and Draco grabbed as many important-looking files as he could get. He was probably on his fifth drawer, skimming through the ancient parchments, when a blast of green light blinded him momentarily. Instantly on his feet, Draco gripped his wand tighter and sneered at the six Death Eaters that infiltrated the room.
"Fancy seeing you here, Malfoy."
His sneer darkened, recognizing the voice of Marcus Flint. From beside him, Hermione had shouted a Disarming Spell and it was the trigger needed for an exchange of frenzied spells to commence.
Draco hastily pocketed the documents he had and blasted the Death Eaters to and fro. He was eternally grateful Voldemort had called for his strongest followers; these were just a bunch of wimps he could easily subdue.
Glancing towards Granger, he could see that she was holding up her own. Her free arm was curled protectively around her stomach, though, and she was slowly getting distracted from her opponent. Flint, who was battling Granger, exclaimed a particularly dark curse and Draco watched in horror as Granger tripped on the table and fell on her knees.
He wasn't thinking properly when he jumped in front and shielded her from the spell. Granger shrieked his name from behind, but all he could feel was unbelievable pain. Draco crumbled on the ground and twitched uncontrollably. Granger's tearful face swam into vision, before she viciously Reducto-ed Flint away.
"What the hell, Malfoy?!" she shrilly exclaimed, crawling towards him. Draco wasn't entirely sure what the spell did to him. Looking at her panicked face, though, he knew he didn't look too good. "We're going to Portkey away from here now."
"But the documents -"
"Damn it, Malfoy, you're injured!" She then fished out the Portkey disguised as a butterbeer cork from her pockets. It violently shook, signaling its activation. Hermione grabbed onto his arm and soon, he felt the familiar sensation of the Portkey.
-o-
The first thing he felt when he came around was pain. Draco grimaced and blinked his eyes open, taking him a few minutes to recognize his moldy room he shared with Theo in Grimmauld Place. 'So, I'm alive,' he thought, amused that he truthfully felt like he would die back in that Death Eater hideout.
He tried to sit up but flinched when a dull pain surged through his left arm. Frowning, he glanced at it and saw it wrapped in bandages. Draco tried to poke the bandage and hissed, the dull pain turning sharp and almost blinding him.
"You're not supposed to poke your wounds, you know."
Draco's eyes widened as they settled on Granger seated on one of the overstuffed couches in the room. She stood up and quickly helped him until he was settled against the headboard.
"Water," he whispered, voice cracking from disuse. Hermione instantly summoned a glass of water and helped him in drinking. "How long was I out?"
"Three days and a half," she whispered in reply.
"That long?" he gasped. No wonder he felt weak and tired.
Granger's lips thinned as she curtly nodded her head.
"Was the mission a success?" he asked, scooting a bit to the left to let her plop down on the bed beside him.
"Maybe," she said, a tad distracted. "We found some transactions in the Lestrange vault regarding a suspicious artifact that might have belonged to Helga Hufflepuff."
His eyes bulged out. "A horcrux?"
She nodded and slightly smiled. "Most likely," she said. "Harry, Ron, and Luna were sent there today by Shacklebolt."
"That's all?" he asked, hoping that they were able to discover more to finally stop Voldemort.
"We discovered his snake is also a horcrux," she continued. "And we also found out that Ravenclaw's treasure is lost somewhere in Hogwarts."
It finally made sense. Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup. "Ravenclaw's diadem," he slowly said with a mixture of awe and disgust. Trust Voldemort to defile the most prized possessions of the Founders. "We should get to Hogwarts and destroy that already."
"Lupin, Ginny, and Nott are already there."
His eyebrows almost disappeared behind his fringes. "And why are you here?" he inquired. "I'm sure you don't like to be left behind, waiting around."
A frustrated expression bloomed on her face and she slumped down. "They found out," she confessed. "About my pregnancy."
Draco started. He almost forgot about that significant detail. "And?"
"And of course they were ecstatic," she snapped in frustration. "Predictably, Harry and Ron forbade me from accompanying anyone to destroy the horcruxes. I reasoned out that Tonks was able to go to missions despite carrying Teddy but they reasoned out that we are dealing with horcruxes this time. I mean, honestly. I'm barely showing!"
He smirked, imagining one hell of a fight between the Golden Trio. He was almost sorry he was unconscious when she finally broke the news to them. "So, I believe you'll be having desk duties instead?" he cheekily asked. Although undeniably great with strategizing, he knew Hermione would rather be in the field than cooped up in this moldy, stinky headquarters.
"Don't start, Malfoy," she warned, glowering.
He lifted his arms as a sign of backing down. He momentarily forgot about his injury, though, and hissed in pain. Draco cradled his left arm against his chest and scowled.
"That was very stupid of you, you know."
"Thanks, Granger, really," he snarled sarcastically, shooting her a glare. To his surprise, however, there were tears brimming in her eyes.
"It was a very dark curse, Malfoy," she continued, oblivious to the tears now sliding down her cheeks. "Grown wizards and witches need at least a week to recuperate back. But if a baby..." She wordlessly placed a hand against her stomach and Draco understood. If he didn't stupidly shield Granger from that dark curse, she might have lost her baby before she could even tell the others about the news.
Strangely, the dull pain in his arm didn't bother him anymore.
"I just..." She daintily sniffed and offered him a bright, grateful smile. "Thank you... Draco. May I call you that?"
His heart sped up a little at how his name sounded from her lips. "Yeah," he said, almost breathlessly. "Whatever."
"Thank you, Draco," she repeated. "For... for everything. If it wasn't for you, I might..." Her breath hitched, unable to utter the possibility of losing her child.
To his utmost surprise, Hermione reached out for his uninjured arm and gave it a grateful squeeze. "You saved my baby's life. Thank you."
His throat clotted with nerves, but he managed to give her one of his small, rare smiles.
__________
Rose
__________
The War was finally over.
The Light had lost too much; Hermione had already lost count at how many lifeless bodies she saw strewn haphazardly on the red-soaked floors of her beloved Hogwarts. Her heart still terribly ached at the looks of the Weasley clan when they discovered that they had lost Fred. Until this day, George's anguished screams echoed in her ear.
Shaking these thoughts away, Hermione took a deep breath before finally pressing the doorbell. She waited exactly twenty-seven seconds before the door was opened. Arabella Figg's kind face greeted her and Hermione prayed to Merlin the smile she showed wasn't shaky and awkward.
"Hermione, dear, I've been waiting for you," the squib said, ushering her inside.
"Hello, Mrs. Figg," she weakly greeted as she closed the door behind her. "How are you?"
She wasn't planning on having small talks with the older woman, but her heart had been thudding loudly with nervousness ever since she apparated out from the humble flat she and Ron had purchased earlier that week. Ron was supposed to be with her today, but Molly had asked for Ron's help for Fred's memorial. Despite her anxiety, Hermione did not have the heart to deny Molly from her request. She wanted to ask Harry, too, but he was away in a holiday somewhere in an obscure country in Asia just to get away from the sudden spotlight he was thrust into. Defeating Voldemort had exhausted him so, and it was quite understandable that Harry wanted to have some rest before stepping back into the Wizarding World as the celebrated hero of all.
"I'm quite fine, Hermione," the kind matron then said. She led Hermione in a quaint living room and gestured for her to sit on one of the plush couches. Her eyes lit up in amusement upon seeing at least half a dozen cats scattered about. Ron once joked to her that if they didn't get together, he always envisioned Hermione as an old spinster with abundant Crookshanks keeping her company. Instead of getting offended, the brunette had actually concurred.
Once settled, Hermione cleared her throat. "May I... may I see her?"
Mrs. Figg smiled. "Of course, dear," she said. "She's your daughter after all."
Her stomach lurched at the mention of Rose and she waited in anticipation as Mrs. Figg disappeared to get her daughter. When she arrived back with a toddler in her arms, Hermione's breath hitched and her vision blurred.
It had exactly been twelve months, three weeks, and two days. Hermione had counted the days when she last saw her baby and had been desperately yearning for the War to finally end so that she could be with her daughter. The only memory she had of Rose was her birth. She was the most beautiful thing Hermione had ever seen and her heart was bursting with joy and promises of comfort. But the Order decided that a baby was not fit to be cared for in the Order, and Rose was immediately taken away from Hermione and was given to Mrs. Figg for protection.
Hermione had begged for days to at least see a glimpse of their child, devastated that Rose was taken away from her before she could even memorize every lines and curves on her face. But then, they were at War and Hermione had to accept that the safest place her baby could be was to be away from her. She was, after all, one of the most wanted witches in the Wizarding World during that time. Being Undesirable Number Two came with a price. She'd be damned if Rose was caught in the middle of everything.
Mrs. Figg sent a few letters during the last twelve months, three weeks, and two days. She reported about a lot of Rose's firsts and Hermione always had tears in her eyes every time the letter ended. Ron would find her curled into a ball on her bed, and would silently hold her all night until her tears had abated.
And then finally, finally the War had ended and Hermione could bring her daughter home.
She watched as Mrs. Figg placed Rose onto her feet. The one-year-old wobbled precariously for a while, before happily taking a few steps forward. Hermione gasped, surprised that she was able to finally walk. The last letter she received from Mrs. Figg stated that Rose was only starting to crawl.
"She started walking yesterday," Mrs. Figg said, pride in her voice. "I didn't tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise."
Rose toddled closer, gurgling incoherent sounds that pulled Hermione's heartstrings. As she took another step, she lost her balance and landed on her bum. Hermione was halfway out of her seat, but Rose merely giggled and hastily clambered back onto her feet.
Hermione was laughing, too. And then she was crying. Her tears were loud and guttural, openly staring at the daughter she had missed so much. Rose was startled by the sounds she was making, curiously peering at her with her wide, blue eyes.
"Oh, Hermione," Mrs. Figg said, sauntering closer to envelope the brunette into her arms. "Hush, now, don't cry. I'll bring you some tea to calm you down."
Mrs. Figg disappeared in her kitchens, but her tears still wouldn't stop. Rose was now sitting quietly on the carpeted floor, her blue eyes never leaving her mother.
Rose had grown so much compared to the small babe in her arms. She was born prematurely due to the constant stress Hermione was in, but her beautiful daughter fought valiantly to live, and now she had just turned one last week. She was still so tiny, but her head was already full of red curls that ended up to her ears. She undoubtedly inherited her bushy mane, but her red hair and her blue eyes were definitely her father's.
Cautiously, Hermione approached the child. Rose grew shy and looked down to her hands, and Hermione felt another lurch in her heart. She was a stranger to her daughter, she realized. More tears tumbled down from her eyes as she shakily reached out to place a palm on the crown of her curly head.
"Hello, sweetheart," she murmured through thick tears. "I've missed you so much."
She gingerly pulled Rose into her arms, but the child grew anxious and burst into tears. Rose desperately squirmed in her arms, obviously wanting to get away. Hermione was filled with despair and guilt, swaying around and shushing her but Rose wouldn't calm down.
Closing her eyes, Hermione recalled the song her mother used to sing to her as a child. It always brought her comfort and she prayed to whomever that it would also do the trick to Rose.
"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high," she softly lulled, pressing wet kisses on her head. "And the dreams that you dream of, once in a lullaby."
Rose had thankfully stopped squirming. "Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly. And the dreams that you dream of, dreams really do come true."
Rose's cries turned into soft whimpers, before they all together stopped. Her daughter looked at her with wide, wet eyes, wordlessly grasping some of Hermione's curls into her hands. "Someday I'll wish upon a star. Wake up where the clouds are far behind me." Rose then slowly leaned her cheek against Hermione's shoulders and released a wide yawn. "Where trouble melts like lemon drops, high up above the chimney top, that's where you'll find me."
Hermione peered down and saw that Rose had fallen asleep. The brunette clamped on her lips tightly to stop herself from bursting into messy sobs and allowed the tears to silently stroll down from her eyes and land gently onto Rose's hair.
"I've missed you so much," she whispered as softly as she could, placing a gentle kiss on Rose's forehead. "I love you. I've missed you so much."
Mrs. Figg finally arrived with her tea. Upon seeing her with Rose in her arms, tears sprung out from the squib's eyes, too.
"Welcome back, Hermione," she said, smiling through her tears and placing the tea on her table. She then excused herself once more to bring down Rose's things.
As soon as they were alone once more, Hermione gingerly tightened her arms around her sleeping daughter. "I will love with you with all of my heart," she softly promised. "I will protect you from any harm. I promise, Rose. I promise you."