A Baby of Her Own

by BrigidPriska

Summary:

I quick fic about Hermione Granger deciding to become a Mum, the challenges, and surprises, she faces when things don't go exactly as planned.

I will do my best to place trigger warnings at the beginning of the chapters.

*Updates Weekly*

Also, autocorrect is my nemesis. Please forgive me.

Please enjoy some of the Easter eggs I've left from some of my favorite Dramione fics. ❤️

Notes:

Biological clock reference, Sperm bank reference

Chapter 1

Hermione was successful, driven, and accomplished by all standards. Having achieved her position as Junior Minister at a relatively young age and working closely with Kingsley to make worthwhile and needed changes to the Wizarding World she had decided to focus on her more private aspirations. Namely that of becoming a mom. She had always wanted a child and as she neared the end of her twenties she was increasingly more aware of her biological clock.

She had been dating for years since she and Ron had mutually decided to end their relationship and no one was able to intrigue her mentally in a way that she felt she needed in a life partner. Those she did admire for their brains either were already partnered or had become great friends whom she was not attracted to sexually in the least. At least through this dating process she could say she had made some wonderful friends and acquaintances.

It was then that the alarm she had set with her wand went off. She quickly shut off the shower and toweled herself off, speeding through her flat to her room to grab clothes for the monthly get together at the Burrow with all of the Weasleys. Every third Saturday, and holidays, all of the Weasleys gathered for a meal and family time. The next generation of Weasleys would bring their toy brooms and Ron, Harry, and George would mediate a mini quidditch match. It was much like she recalled bumblebee football when she was a child and her parents signed her up for one season before her total ineptitude at sports was known. She always enjoyed seeing all of the children among choruses of ‘Aunt ‘Mione’ and requests for magic or tea parties. In more recent years the gatherings were becoming more bittersweet as she craved a child of her own to bring.

She made it through the floo and into the living room of the Weasley home just in time to hear Molly call that lunch was ready. In true Molly fashion lunch was a veritable feast. The expanded table with high chairs and extra seating allowed for everyone to sit together. The mass of red hair was quite the sight given that most of the children also had it.

Arthur had been quite enamored with the Muggle invention of the table mounted high chairs that Hermione had gifted to Harry and Ginny with their first child. So much that he had procured them for each of his grandchildren and the pride exuding from him each time they were used always made Hermione smile. Though several of the children had outgrown them there seemed to always be more to fill them quickly thereafter.

Sitting at the table Hermione looked around at the family she had grown to be a part of. Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur, Harry and Ginny, Ron and Parvati, George and Angelina, Percy and Dean, and finally Charlie sitting next to Hermione at the end of the table near some of the older children who had labeled it ‘The Kid’s Side.’

The meal was, in typical Weasley fashion, loud, boisterous, and cheerful. The subsequent mini quidditch match and afternoon tea party, complete with tiaras and fancy dresses for the girls, caused Hermione's eyes to mist at several points with the anguish that she may never know the happiness of being a mom. She watched Angelina and Ginny hold their newest additions, Molly taking turns holding various toddlers on her lap in the small chair that had been conjured for their small table and tea set. The bright haired little girl sitting next to Hermione continued to refill her cup with imaginary tea every few moments, to which Hermione would obligingly take a pretend sip and compliment her on how wonderful it was, earning her giggles and cherub cheeked smiles.

Around the time Harry’s oldest son had caught the snitch in their game, and received great praise that he would follow in his father's footsteps, many of the younger children had started to become cranky and Parvati announced it was time for naps.

As they all hugged and made their way to their own homes through the floo Hermione had begun to form an idea.

Perhaps she was going about this the wrong way. Did she truly need a husband to have a child? She was successful. She made enough money to support herself and a child. She had even supported a recent project to fund a new branch of what she had learned to essentially be a sperm bank run by the Sacred 28 to ‘Preserve Their Legacy’ as their slogan claimed, by storing their genetic material in case of an untimely demise so that their line could continue. The new branch, however, would be available for all wizards and cater towards helping those who wanted children but were having trouble after the war. Of course, samples from the 28 were to be kept separately from the general population as a concession to this new branch, but it was an opportunity at least. A new floor had even been added to St. Mungo’s for The Magical Future, which hosted what equated to a fertility clinic, labor and delivery rooms, a postpartum area, and reproductive services.

She was familiar with all of this once she had been asked to investigate and present her thoughts to Kingsley before they received ministry funding for this expansion. She knew the criteria for a single parent and knew she met them. She also knew the witch who ran the program and felt confident that she would pass any tests or requests they had of her.

Hermione looked around her flat, having arrived home and prepared for bed while thinking through this potentiality. She lay under her duvet, staring at the ceiling while her mind wandered, thinking of all the possibilities. A baby of her own. Cleaning out her spare room to convert into a nursery, a beautiful wooden crib with a mobile playing a tinkling nursery rhyme. A rocking chair in the corner next to a bookshelf filled with children's books. The walls, a light blue with the ceiling enchanted to look like the sky outside the window. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she envisioned what her future could hold. A beautiful baby with wild curls and a curious mind to care for and love.

Finally closing her eyes she resigned herself to owl the clinic first thing Monday morning to schedule an appointment.

Chapter 2

Hermione received a letter later in the day on Monday at her desk at the Ministry. The owlery received it and sent it to her via paper plane, the St. Mungo’s seal, bright red against the cream parchment. She quickly opened the envelope, slipping the parchment from it and skimming the words. Traditional letterhead, customary gushing greeting she was all too familiar with, she slowed when she got to the true content of the correspondence.

We would be so happy to have you come in on Wednesday at 4:00 pm for an appointment with Healer Pippa McMillan. At that time a full examination will be performed. Instructions for diagnostic charms and spells will be given at this appointment, please bring any note taking supplies you feel are appropriate.

Hermione skimmed the remainder of the correspondence, a smile on her face. Once she had read over it again she wiggled in her seat with excitement and proceeded to clear her schedule from 3:30 until the end of the day for the coming Wednesday.

In her meetings for the remainder of the day each person remarked at how happy she seemed, even Kingsley, who was notoriously too busy to engage in more than the occasional pleasantry, noted on her changed demeanor. Hermione had decided that she would keep the details of her inquiry to herself, and though it was hard when she was so obviously brimming with excitement, she dismissed everyone's queries as to her ecstatic mood.

Once home for the evening Hermione decided to harness her excess energy to begin cleaning out the boxes that still littered her spare bedroom. Upon moving in two years before she had unpacked her books, her clothes, her kitchen and bathroom, but many of her school books and Muggle children's books had remained boxed alongside a few boxes of old clothes she had intended to donate but had never gotten around to it. She set aside the boxes of books, intending to place many of them on the bookshelf she envisioned for her child. Gathering the boxes intended for donation she shrank them and placed them into her bag to deliver to a local thrift store.

Once the room was empty, save for the books. Checking the time she determined she would have at least two hours before most stores closed. Her first stop being for the donations, and the second, a Muggle store that sold paint. She selected several swatches to take home with her as she made her way to her flat.

Sleep was hard to come by that night, the excitement keeping her awake though she managed a few hours before waking for work again the next morning. Tuesday was more of the same from her coworkers. She saw Ron and Harry in a meeting with the Auror department and Neville on a special case where he served as a consultant for a horticultural concern. Her last meeting of the day was concerning the number of muggle children who were slowly being identified as being a witch or a wizard after their records had been purged from the Ministry. She was working with a team to identify these children in hopes that they would not become obscurials. It was challenging work, however they had managed to save several children and had placed them with tutors to help them enter into school at Hogwarts.

Headmistress McGonigal had been very supportive of the program, even offering to tutor students herself to help them integrate into the school and their new magic-filled lives. Seeing the faces of the children they had already discovered, and the faces of the children they had identified as potentially magically gifted, she felt another wave of longing pass through her. The desire to have a child of her own, to teach and to love.

Tuesday evening came and Hermione found herself staring at the wall in her spare room, the paint swatches on the wall in front of her held with sticking charms while she debated the merits between Minor Blue, Skyfall, and Bluebell. She didn’t remember picking a color for any other room in her flat being this challenging. She decided to mull over the decision more later, instead picking up the book she had found in the Ministry’s library on how to enchant a ceiling. Dinner consisted of chinese delivery while she sat at her coffee table and scribbled notes on parchment on how exactly she would need to charm the ceiling to reflect the sky beyond the window.

Wednesday was a practice in tedium and impatience. Hermione felt as if she checked the clock every five minutes, convinced an hour had passed and disappointed to find she still had so much time left before her appointment. At quarter after three she finally slammed the book closed on her desk, having reread the last paragraph at least three times and still having no clue what it said, she left her office, waving a quick goodbye to her assistant and making her way to the floo that would take her to St. Mungos.

Chapter 3

Summary:

My airplane delays are to your benefit. An extra chapter dropping today.

Hermione emerged into the familiar atrium of St Mungo's and made her way to the new wing she was well familiar with given how many times she had come at Kinglsey’s behest to evaluate the progress of the new facility they were supporting. Walking up to the large reception desk she was met with a smile and handed a clipboard of parchment and asked to fill you the attached forms. The receptionist then pointed her towards a bank of chairs which served at their waiting room. The forms were, as expected, personal information including the dates of her last cycle, lists of previous injuries, previous pregnancies, etc.

Long moments after her quill had stopped scratching across the parchment Healer Macmillan came to her door and called Hermione by name, welcoming her into the spacious, well appointed, office.

“Hello Healer Macmillan.”

“Oh dear,” Healer Macmillan patted Hermione’s arm, “Please call me Pippa.”

Pippa motioned Hermione to have a seat while she took her own behind the large cherry desk in her office.

“I am so happy Hermione that you have come today.” Pippa started.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Hermione intoned.

“So, are you ready to start a new chapter in your life? You are wanting to seek out our services to start a family of your own?”

“Yes,” Hermione's voice began breathlessly, she cleared her throat before continuing. “I've always wanted to be a mum. I decided that, instead of waiting any longer, I want to have children now. I've been dating for years, thinking that I needed a husband, but I realized that I am secure in my life, my work, and I can raise and support a child on my own. This is what I want.”

Pippa smiled, genuine warmth showing across her face. “It seems you have thought through this decision. Let me explain how everything works and we can go from there.”

She waited for Hermione to nod her agreement before beginning.

“First, I will run some diagnostics to ensure that everything is in working order.” Pippa looked down at the parchment on the clipboard Hermione had handed over. “It looks like you should be just a few days after your most fertile period of the month, so we likely have about 22 days or so until your next fertile period. l will be teaching you a diagnostic charm for you to run every morning and I would like for you to record the information in this journal.” Pippa pulled a small journal out of the drawer to her left and handed it to Hermione.

“This information will help us know when your best chances of conception will be.”

Hermione nodded, following along much like she had in school, intent on absorbing every word.

“When you enter your most fertile period is when it is best to complete the insemination process. Magic can be quite challenging and we have found that the clinical environment isn't always the most conducive to conception. Because of this we will send you home with the specimen to have you self administer it.”

Hermione's brows furrowed, then one eyebrow arched as the last sentence fell from Pippa’s lips. “Self, administer?”

“Yes, yes, it is all quite easy. The specimen will be prepared for your use. We have found that being relaxed at home seems to improve magical conception. Chances seem even more improved if the witch is able to masturbate beforehand. We believe it has some effect on increasing the likelihood of implantation of the fertilized egg.”

Pippa paused, allowing Hermione a moment to think through the last bits of information shared.

After a few moments Hermione nodded, knowing her cheeks were likely flaming from the frank discussion.

“Any questions so far?”

Hermione blinked twice before responding. “No, none so far.”

“Alright. I think it is best to move to the physical exam. I see that you took an unknown curse to your abdomen during the war?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded. “Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries.”

Pippa nodded, face grim. “Let's take a look.” With a wave of her want she conjured a bed in the space between Hermione and the wall to the left of the door. Motioning for Hermione to move to the table she waited until Hermione was seated before extending the foot rest and guiding her to lie all the way back. Pippa whispered and wove her wand and a basketball sized display formed above Hermione's abdomen.

Both women's brows furrowed. Hermione had not seen this particular diagnostic and was studying it carefully, though she did not recognize all of the information. Pippa’s brows furrowed as she read the information and relayed the results to Hermione. “You have quite a bit of scar tissue. It may affect your ability to conceive. Your right ovary in particular is heavily scarred. It doesn't look like your fallopian tube is completely closed off, however it is narrowed. Your left ovary looks much better.”

Hermione slipped into a clinical headspace, listening to what was being said and boxing her emotions away until she had time later to sort them. “Okay, and what does that mean?”

Pippa turned her gaze to Hermione’s face as she spoke. “It means that I will have a potion for you to take over the next month which should help with the scar tissue. The effects of the potion will be uncomfortable, but it is important for you to continue taking it. It also means that you have one ovary that is fully functioning. You may have trouble conceiving if it is a month that you are ovulating from the right side. If so, I don't want you to be discouraged. Your chances will be much improved on the months you ovulate from the left side.” With a gentle squeeze to Hermione’s shoulder she waved away the diagnostic charm she had just used and began to conjure a new one. Explaining with soft words and slow motions how Hermione should complete this diagnostic at home and what notes she should put into the journal.

Hermione left the appointment with an armful of potions safely tucked away into her bag, a parchment filled with scribbles, and her new journal. Nervous, excited, scared, ecstatic. Too many emotions to count filled Hermione as she made her way back to her flat.

Walking in the door with her takeout container Hermione took everything with her to the kitchen table and began sorting through all of her notes and parchments from her appointment. Reviewing everything meticulously in between bites of food she took a fresh parchment and began listing her plan of action.

Daily Tasks:
-Run diagnostic charm and take notes in journal
-Morning prenatal multivitamin
-1 hour of cardio before work
-3 healthy meals per day
-1 potion before bed
-8 hours of sleep nightly

Reviewing the list she felt those were reasonable goals. She looked down at her Pad Thai and dug in with a new appreciation, this would not be on her new healthy eating plan, so she would enjoy this last little luxury while she made a grocery list of healthy ingredients to begin making her own meals.

A few hours later, as she washed her face and got ready for bed, she grabbed one of the small potion bottles she had placed in near rows in her medicine cabinet. 28 in total. The potion was a sticky purple substance that looked absolutely unappetizing. Taking a deep breath she poured it into the back of her throat and swallowed, not giving herself time to taste it.

She felt it hit her stomach with a heat that quickly suffused into her abdomen, coming to rest low in her belly. The sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant, her brows knit together while she evaluated the sensation. A gasp left her as the heat increased to the point of burning around her right ovary. Hermione clutched at her abdomen, tears falling from the corners of her eyes as she stumbled to her bed, curling into a fetal position as she passed out from the pain.

The next morning she immediately owled the office only to be reassured that it was quite normal to feel a level of discomfort with the potion and advised to stay the course to increase her chances of conception. After a mental tirade about the definition of discomfort Hermione resigned herself to the next 28 days of torture. She checked off her daily goals she had completed in her journal and began eating her healthy meals.

Chapter 4

Notes:

With the USA holiday today I am dropping this chapter a smidge early.
Happy Independence Day for those in the States. Hope you have a lovely holiday and day off.

This fic has some disappointing medical care moments as you probably saw in a previous chapter. Healthcare isn't always a great experience and not everyone is suited for the job.

We also have a little bit of sex toy shopping in this chapter

On the 23rd day the diagnostic charm showed her fertility had entered the optimal range for conception. Hermione was ecstatic to finally be at this point and to finally get a reprieve from the awful daily potions. She had read up and noted that she should not take that potion while actively trying to conceive. While effective, it was quite taxing emotionally and physically to go through the daily torture of the purple slime she had become accustomed to gagging down every evening.

Hermione promptly owled Pippa’s office and received a hasty response with a noon appointment that day. She took thirty minutes to clear an hour of her schedule for the appointment and sped through her morning tasks, anxious for the next steps in the process to begin.

Upon checking in Hermione was handed a new clipboard with parchment filled with lists and checkboxes. She skimmed the page before leaving the desk, pausing.

“What is this about?”

“Hmm?” The receptionist responded, not looking up from her paperwork.

“I don't understand, what is this?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, it is just attributes you want.”

Hermione shook her head again, “I still don't understand. Attributes for what?”

The receptionist finally looked up, giving Hermione a look as if she were daft. “You check the boxes of the attributes you would want in a father for your child. The donor nurse will review your list of preferences and try to find a donor that matches as closely as possible.” She paused for a moment, eyes wide and trained on Hermione. “Do you understand now?”

Hermione blinked heavily once, twice, then her brows furrowed. “Erm, okay. I understand.”

With that Hermione took her clipboard to a vacant seat and started reviewing.

What did one look for in the father of their child? She glanced through the physical characteristics. It seemed vain to have a checklist of physical features.

Continuing to scan she saw lists for occupation, OWL scores, NEWT scores, athletic abilities, hobbies, likes, dislikes. She could kind of understand the desire for good grades. She checked those boxes. Reading as an interest was something she should check. Athletic ability had no bearing on her choice, she quickly moved on further down the page.

Hermione was only distracted from her task by a pair of expensive dragon leather shoes clicking down the hallway towards her. She looked up the long legs, the dragon leather shoes that had distracted her, taking in the perfectly tailored suit encasing broad shoulders and a shock of white blond hair. Her eyes met and held none other than those of Draco Malfoy. Both paused for a moment before Hermione’s eyes darted back down to her lap where she tugged at her skirt. Heat settled in her cheeks as she internally chastised herself for her reaction. Hogwarts had been years ago and her teenage angst, her most private teenage crush, would not turn her back into the anxious schoolgirl she had been. By the time Hermione looked back up, her lower lip held fiercely between her teeth, Draco was already gone.

Shaking her head and going back to her list she only had a few moments more before her name was called and she was guided back to a room with plush seating and a large desk. The Healer sitting across from her was not one she knew. She handed over her clipboard and waited for it to be reviewed. The Healer tapped her index finger on her chin, seeming to be deep in thought.

“I see you didn't indicate whether you want to know the name or any identifiers of the donor?”

Hermione blinked, “No, I don't think that is necessary. I am committed to raising my child on my own and I have a great support system in place to ensure the child has positive male role models.”

“Oh dear,” the Healer leaned forward across the desk, placing her hand across it right in front of Hermione, “No judgment from me at all. I just wanted to verify. There are some donors who want to remain anonymous so being open to receiving anonymously increases the pool of potential donors. Now that that is settled, I think I have just the one! I'll be back in a moment with the supplies you will need.”

Hermione sat in the room, staring at the clipboard the Healer had left on the desk. Excitement and nervous energy coursed through her. It was going to work! This was going to happen! She was going to have a baby all of her own. Tears misted her eyes and she hastily blinked them away as she heard the door open behind her.

“Here we go.” The Healer walked in with a tray, a tube with an opaque substance on the tray, a large syringe without a needle but with a long, catheter-like stem on it, and a potion.
“This,” the healer holds up the tube, “is the semen you will be using. It is currently held under a series of strong stasis charm. Due to the volatile nature of magic, samples are typically only kept for about a year.”

“This,” the Healer holds up the syringe with the extended tip, “is how you will place the sample directly into your uterus. The tip has been charmed to slide through your cervix to deposit the sample where it needs to go.”

“And, lastly, this,” she holds up the potion, “Will increase the likelihood of conception. You may experience heightened sexual need after taking it. Which is completely normal and absolutely fine. As Healer Macmillan explained, orgasm while insemination occurs increases the likelihood of success, especially for magical pregnancies. Be sure to lie with a pillow beneath your hips so that your pelvis is raised and tilted like this,” the Healer gestures with her hands indicating the tilt, “for at least ten minutes after.”

“Do you have any questions for me dear?”

Hermione shook her head. It all seemed fairly straight forward. “How long will the sample be good for? Should I go home now or am I able to finish my workday?”

“It will be fine until tonight. Just be sure to use it all tonight so that you are well within your fertility window. You may want to take tomorrow off though. I've heard the potion can be quite a doozy.” The Healer chuckled while Hermione raised her eyebrow at her.

That was how Hermione found herself using the last few minutes of her lunch break in a Muggle sex toy shop. She had never imagined that sex toys came in so many shapes and sizes. Her eyes were veritable saucers at the selection. It seemed the sales girl finally took pity on her.

“Can I help you find something?”

Hermione's cheeks heated. “I've, um, never bought anything like this before,” she stammered.

“Ah, okay, then let me point you over here.” The sales girl waved her in the direction of a small display with devices that were about the size of her finger. “These are the best place for beginners to start. These,” she plucks a small purple device off the shelf, “are really nice. They are rechargeable and have several different settings. You turn it on with this button,” she switched it on, “and can use this button to toggle between the functions.” The change in vibrations seemed loud in the mostly quiet shop. “And it's on sale today. Really can't beat that.”
Hermione felt her face flaming. “Um, okay, I'll take that one then.”

“Great!” The shop girl quickly whisked Hermione to the check out desk. Tossing a wink and throwing a small item into Hermione's bag, “this one is on the house.” The shop girl sent Hermione on her way with her purchase, “Good Luck!”

Chapter 5

Summary:

An extra chapter this week since this one is rather short.
I love reading the comments! Thank you for them and for the Kudos! ❤️

Notes:

A little bit spicy!
AI and Masturbation in this short chapter.

Hermione stood in her bathroom slowly and methodically pulling items from the various bags and packages. She placed the fertility potion on the counter next to the drawn up sample in the special syringe. She pulled the small purple vibrator off of the charging cable thanking Godrick that she lived in a Muggle building with electricity, and placed it on her bedside table next to the small fingertip vibrator that the shop girl had gifted her.

She had put an oversized shirt on with no panties, thinking that they would likely get in the way. Reviewing her mental checklist she filled, and drank, a large glass of water. She had read the fertility potion can lead to dehydration.

The instructions stated that she should wait at least thirty minutes after drinking the potion before using the syringe. That the delay would help with the worst of the symptoms of the potion. She set a timer with her want and looked at herself in the mirror. “Well, here we go!” With a quick tug of the stopper she chugged the liquid from the vial. Once she had it down she gave herself a moment to taste it. It was shockingly delicious. She only had a moment before a throb started low in her belly and desire like she had never felt before shook her. She quickly grabbed her wand and syringe before stumbling to her bedroom. Wetness covered the tops of her thighs from the simple friction of walking, she felt swollen and sensitive. Sitting on the edge of the bed she took a deep breath, this would be okay, she would be okay. In thirty minutes it would ease. She said to herself. Thighs clenching against the need building in her channel and behind her clit.

She glanced at the vibrators on her nightstand. She had gotten them for exactly this reason. While she hadn't masturbated in quite some time, and usually did so with her shower head, she was hesitant to pick one of them up. Godrick, she thought to herself, how long had it been?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a nearly painful punch of need through her core. She scooted back on her mattress, pushing the pillows up towards the headboard in a pile to lean up against. Grabbing the vibrators she spread her legs, feeling the wetness on her skin as the cool air rushed over her. She placed the small vibe on her finger, noting the on switch but not triggering it yet. She turned the other device on. It was only about 6 inches from tip to base and about an inch and a half at its widest point. Quite manageable, she thought, given the dry spell she had been going through over the last few years. Another throb low in her belly had her holding down the on switch until it began vibrating in her hand.

She slowly used the tip to trace around her clit. She was so sensitive she nearly came from that light touch but her cunt clenched at the emptiness and demanded to be filled. She slowly worked the phallic object into her core, pressing and pulling as her body produced more lubrication. She worked the shaft until it was at just the right angle to hit that spot just inside the front wall of her cunt. Massaging the spongy tissue with the vibrating head while she flipped on the finger vibe and pressed just above her clit. Her orgasm tore through her harsh and consuming. A strangled cry escaped from her as she came.

She lay there, working to catch her breath, as the alarm she had set went off, telling her it was time to insert the syringe. A wash of nervous energy came over her as she reached for the device. It was thicker than the vibrator she had just used and the tip much sharper. Hermione quickly rearranged the pillows to sit below her hips, a towel quickly thrown over them to protect them from potential mess. Lying back with a deep breath she went about doing as she had been instructed.

Once she had depressed the plunger slowly over a count of 10 until it was fully seated she finally let herself feel. She was too focused on following the instructions before, but now, the glorious fullness of the syringe inside her was causing the heat to build again in her core. The instructions didn't say anything about immediately pulling the syringe out, and the fullness felt so good after being empty for so long. She left it, switching her finger vibe back on and stroking around her clit, imagining that it was someone else's hands on her, someone rather than something filling her. Her hips rocked towards the ceiling wanting to grind down and fill herself further. She let her mind wander into the fantasy. Long, smooth fingers stroking, rubbing at her clit, through her saturated folds. Full lips feathering along her thighs while two fingers sunk into her, rubbing against her just right, readying her for his cock. In her fantasy he would rise above her and thrust into her just as she came, keeping his thumb against her clit to prolong the pleasure. She shattered again, gasping at the white blond figure her mind had conjured as she tipped over the edge. A face she had seen earlier that day but hadn't fantasized about since her days at Hogwarts.

The heat inside her built again quickly as she removed the syringe and went back to the small vibrating wand. Her mind returned to the fantasy in an almost fever dream state that she later blamed on the fertility potion. She had masturbated until her skin was raw, her need had come in waves for the majority of the night. She realized late the next morning when she finally woke up that she had, indeed, needed to take the next day off. It would take her that long to recover and rehydrate after the experience.

Chapter 6

Notes:

Triggers: suspected pregnancy, bleeding/period/spotting, small humans

Hermione’s life returned mostly normal for the following weeks. She still maintained her healthy diet and exercise as well as a prenatal multivitamin she got from the Muggle pharmacy. As the days passed and she grew closer to the time she would normally start her period she became more nervous, anxious even. What if it didn't work? What if she did something wrong?

The magical diagnostics wouldn't show conception until closer to six weeks. She had done quite a bit of reading though and found that Muggle pregnancy tests from the pharmacy could detect as early as four weeks.

After work one day she marched to the closest pharmacy to her flat and purchased four different tests. The cashier gave her quite an odd look but proceeded to pack her purchases and send her on her way.

When Hermione arrived home she quickly tore into the packages. All said that she should use them first thing in the morning for best results. Heaving a sigh, she placed the tests in the bathroom and headed to the kitchen to begin making her meal for the evening. She glanced forlornly at the wine bottle on top of her fridge as she prepared the pasta dish she had been craving. The wine would have been lovely with it. Hopefully though, she would have several months to abstain soon. A small flutter in her belly at that thought had her gasping. Soon. Soon she would know.

The next morning Hermione woke early, excitement at finally having an answer pulled her from her bed and into the bathroom. She quickly conjured a cup with her wand to collect the necessary sample and pulled down her sleep shorts and panties. Tears pooled in her eyes as she saw the stark red blots on the gusset of her undergarment. Her heart fell as tears coursed down her cheeks. She banished the cup with a wave of her wand and grabbed the hand towel in front of her to contain her sobs.

She had herself a good cry, then slowly stood, grabbing the necessary supplies and removing her panties to soak them in the sink to remove the stain. Looking at herself in the mirror she fell back on logic for comfort.

“There is nothing wrong. Often, it takes more than one try to conceive. I have a follow up with Pippa in two weeks and we can make a plan to try again. There is no reason why I cannot have a baby.” With a final nod to herself in the mirror she went about her morning preparing a healthy breakfast and getting ready for work, resigning herself to complete her cardio after work since she was now out of time.

By the time Hermione made it home she was exhausted. Mentally and physically from pushing herself too hard all day. She was so glad it was Friday and she would have the evening to herself before a hectic day at the Borough for a birthday celebration for James. He was growing so fast! She still had no idea what to get him. He had begun to outgrow her practical gifts, now wanting things more exciting that he could play with. At six, gifts were such a challenge. She made sure to set an alarm to allow herself plenty of time to wander Diagon Alley in search of the perfect gift for her oldest nephew.

Falling into her bed after another healthy dinner and some light reading from a Muggle book called ‘What to Expect when You’re Expecting’ she noted that she was a bit nauseous. Her brow furrowed thinking through her dinner. Everything was fresh, nothing had smelled or tasted questionable. She was quickly pulled under into sleep and thought nothing more of it.

The next morning Hermione wandered her way towards Diagon Alley. It was quite odd that she had stopped bleeding nearly as suddenly as she had started. She had been lucky that her periods had never been terrible, but they were not typically so light. Giving her head a small shake she refocused on the task at hand. What to get a six year old wizard for his birthday.

She wandered the shops, looking through windows at the various items displayed. She had gone through several toy stores as well as the Wizarding Wheezes with no luck at finding anything she didn't think he would already have. Absent-mindedly she made her way towards Flourish and Blotts, still looking at the window display as she opened the door and walked into a tall wizard wearing dark robes. She backpedaled quickly, tripping over her own feet at beginning to fall, only to be caught, a hand circling her wrist and steadying her before she could embarrass herself by sprawling across the walkway.

“Granger,” the man growled, his voice low and smooth as satin. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I'm sorry, yes, I'm fine. Thank you,” Hermione stammered in embarrassment, righting herself and smoothing her blouse and skirt with shaking hands. She finally looked up once assured of her footing into grey eyes. Her eyes widened to nearly the size of dinner places as she realized who she had run into, and who had caught her. “Muh…..Malfoy?” She stammered again, this time in surprise and shock. “I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.” Long engrained manners causing the words to trip from her tongue faster than her brain was functioning.

“Yes, you should be.” Draco proceeded to step out of the doorway, holding it open for her.

Hermione watched him. Eyes narrowing and the rude response until Draco made a gesture towards the door he still held open for her. With a huff and another “Thank you” she scurried inside, pausing just inside to watch him walk away through the window.

Her brows furrowed. It wasn't the first time they had run into each other over the years. The Wizarding World was small to say the least. This time though, he was nearly polite. She rubbed her wrist where he had caught her, the skin tingling from the contact, even if brief. She wandered towards the children's books. At this point resigning herself to being boring ‘Aunt ‘Mione’ who only gets her nieces and nephews books.

The party was bittersweet and pushed all thoughts of her morning encounter from her mind. She spent the majority of the day taking care of Harry and Ginny’s youngest while they all focused on James. The newest addition to the Weasley family was only two months old and would not tolerate being set down at all. Ginny was amazing, chasing after James and his cousins so soon after having had this little one. Hermione’s heart ached at the desire for having a babe of her own, but overflowed with joy, compersion, at being this tiny human’s pillow for the day. The only time she handed the little one over was during feedings as Ginny was breast feeding.

As the night wound down Hermione found herself tucked into a chair in the corner of the living room, the infant in her arms snuggled into a deep sleep, oblivious to the chaos around them. The baby powder smell and small fingers clutching her pinkie nearly brought her to tears but she blinked quickly to fight them back. James had opened his presents and won two quidditch matches in the yard. All of the children were now piled into the floor of the living room with sticky, smiling faces as they bargained with their parents for just a few more minutes of playtime.

As all of the Weasleys started packing up their supplies, it was amazing how many things children needed. Hermione kissed the little one in her arms on the brow and passed them along to Ginny. She gave James a big hug, kneeling down to be on his level as she wished him a happy birthday and promised him some one on one time with Aunt ‘Mione to go to the Muggle zoo and see the animals. James gave her another big hug, squealing with excitement over the future trip she had just promised. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rose, ready for her own bed and a good cry before sleep. She prayed that, one day, she would have a little one of her own.

Chapter 7

Summary:

This story has taken up so much of my brain that I am several chapters ahead already. Rather than keep you all in suspense, here is another chapter for your Saturday. ❤️

Hermione sat in the waiting room of the clinic waiting for her name to be called. She had a list of questions for the Healer about her likelihood of conceiving and if there was a more reliable way to track which ovary she was ovulating from to further increase her chances on the next try. While she sat waiting a billow of robes stalked to the desk, the white blond hair unmistakable. Draco. She watched him from her seat as he slapped a piece of parchment down on the counter in front of the receptionist who seemed to be doing her best impression of a fish out of water.

“What is this?” Draco seethed.

The young witch blinked, slowly reaching for the parchment and skimming the page. “I'm sorry sir, this looks to be a letter from Gringotts. It seems congratulations are in order. Are you wanting something done with the genetic material stored now?”

A growl escaped Draco. One that Hermione felt from across the room. A slight shiver coursed down her spine at the sudden awareness of her own body surprised her.

“The problem,” Draco enunciated each word with precision, “is that this,” his finger speared the paper now back on the desk in front of him, “did not come from me.”

The receptionist shook her head slightly. “If Gringotts has record of a conception then it is true. They will sometimes even inform patients of an expected child even before we know.” A cheery smile graced her lips and she continued to speak just as Hermione’s name was called.

Draco and Hermione both startled at hearing her name. He turned to observe her as she walked to the door, one brow raised as he tracked her progress all the way past the door until it closed behind her.

Hermione’s brows furrowed at what she had heard. Perhaps Draco wasn't as much of a prude as society thought. She had read the gossip columns touting the reformed Malfoys, Draco and his mother at least. She also knew that the rags written by Skeeter frequently cast him as a chaste bachelor waiting for his one true love. It would have seemed romantic if she hadn't seen him and Pansy playing tonsil hockey regularly at Hogwarts. Also, if those articles didn't advertise him as if he were a prized stud for auction. She shook her head and drew out her parchment filled with questions.

She was led into Pippa’s office. Pippa quickly motioned for Hermione to take a seat while she rounded the desk, wand raised. Hermione raised her own hand, waving Pippa off of her diagnostic test.

“I'm not pregnant.”

Pippa’s brow furrowed. “You are certain?”

“Yes, I bled during my normal time for my monthlies.”

“Okay,” Pippa leaned against the front of her desk, eyes shrewd as they met Hermione's, “I see you have a list of questions. Let's go through those now. I do need to run some diagnostic scans though.”

Hermione nodded and began her list of questions.

“Was it normal to experience nausea with prenatal vitamins or as a long term reaction after the fertility potion?”

“How long until the heightened emotions fade after the fertility potion?”

“Is there a way to see which ovary I am ovulating from?”

“Should I expect shortened periods with these treatments?”

“Are Muggle pregnancy tests viable for magical pregnancies?”

“Whoa,” Pippa interrupted. “Okay, I want to take a quick look at something and then I promise I will answer all of these questions.”

Hermione nodded, holding her hands down to her sides as Pippa cast a diagnostic charm that she wasn't familiar with. Just as a knock sounded at the door and a frazzled receptionist entered without waiting for a response. Pippa took a moment to glance through the diagnostic, a slight nod her only expression as the receptionist asked Pippa for her help with a situation at the front desk.

Pippa turned back to Hermione, patting her hand on the arm of her chair. “Give me just a moment and I'll be right back.” A large smile gracing her face as she left the room.

Hermione took a deep breath. She took a moment to wonder what would be so important as to take Pippa from her appointment but was quickly distracted by her list of questions. Reviewing and then rereading them to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything. After several minutes of ensuring she had everything down she could think of her eyes began to wander the room. Magical photos were framed on the bookshelf picturing Pippa with a man her age and two young children at exotic places throughout the globe. Pictures in front of the Pyramids, on what looked to be the Great Wall of China, even Machu Pichu. As the minutes dragged on Hermione began to nibble at her lower lip. She could hear the occasional raised voice through the walls. Eventually curiosity got the better of her and she stood, cracking the door to the office open to better hear what was occuring down the hall.

She heard a male voice, one that sounded quite like Draco.

“Unless sex has changed an extreme amount since I learned of it in school there is no way that my hand could produce a Malfoy heir!” Rage vibrated from his voice.

“I'm sorry sir,” a young female voice responded. “Healer McClaggen is reviewing the records. We will have answers for you shortly. Please, calm down for us.”

Wrong thing to say, Hermione thought. Telling someone to calm down is never the right answer.

“Calm down? Calm down? I do not have the ability to calm down. The only source of my ‘genetic material’ that could have possibly been accessed was through the samples I am required to leave here, in this facility. The Malfoy line will not tolerate an illegitimate heir.”

Hermione heard footsteps coming from the opposite end of the hall and briefly saw Pippa cross the hallway in front of the door Hermione currently stood behind.

“Mr. Malfoy, if I could have you follow me please.”

Hermione heard a door further down the hall open and heavy footsteps follow Pippa’s softer ones before the door closed behind them. Hermione took a deep breath before easing the door closed and taking her seat again.

Chapter 8

Summary:

I've decided that I will post an update when I get to a certain number of chapters ahead. Likely this means I will be updating quite a bit more than once per week, but at least once per week is my promise.

Enjoy this chapter!

Another ten minutes passed before a soft knock on the door preceded Pippa coming back into her office. Her normally coiffed hair was a bit ruffled, as if she had been running her fingers through the previously immaculate bob.

“I am so sorry Hermione, we have made a terrible error.”

Hermione’s expression was guarded and became even tighter at the words. Sucking, and then biting at her lower lip, Hermione took a moment before responding. “What happened?”

“I would like to share that the diagnostic charm I did before leaving the room did show that you have conceived. You should be about six weeks along.”

Tears started in Hermione’s eyes and cascaded down her cheeks as she gasped, her hands moved quickly to clutch at her lower belly. “What's wrong with my baby?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Pippa soothed. “There was just a mix up of samples. It seems that the donor that you selected and the sample of another individual were accidentally mixed up in the lab. I personally reviewed the logs and we have documentation of the destruction of the sample that you were supposed to take home with you. This means that the genetic material used for your baby belongs to another person, one who did not volunteer for his, genetic material, to be utilized.”

“What does that mean? You can't take my baby. I won't let you abort it. I will take full responsibility for this child. I intended to do that all along. They don't even have to know. We don't have to tell them.” Tears tracked down Hermione's cheeks as she ended on a sob.

“I'm afraid it isn't that simple,” Pippa’s expression was grim. “If you choose to keep this child then it may be best for you to speak with the person who is the paternal portion of your child. Would you be willing to speak with him?”

“Wh…who? Who is it?”

“We've decided it would be best to keep your name, and his, confidential until you both agree to meet. I cannot apologize enough for this error. I know this places both of you in a challenging position. At this point, my hope is to find an amicable resolution.”

“I won't let you, or him, take my baby.” Fresh sobs shook Hermione’s shoulders, her tears smudging the ink on the parchment now forgotten in her lap.

“We would never take your child Hermione. Your body, and what you do, is your choice. I only wish to have you meet to discuss any further possible implications this could have for both of you, and the child.”

“Oh…okay,” Hermione sniffled. “Where do I meet him? Do I need to come back here for another appointment to meet him.”

Pippa took a deep breath. “I do want to see you again in a week. We need to go over all of the information we would normally be discussing in this visit.”

Hermione nodded, agreeing that would be best. She felt wrecked by this news.

“He is here now if you are willing to meet with him?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Now?”

“I can give you a few minutes to freshen up. My private restroom is right through this door,” Pippa motioned behind her.

Hermione nodded, feeling as though she was on autopilot as she walked around the desk and into the restroom clicking the door shut behind her and turning the cold water in the sink on full blast. She grabbed several paper towels from the dispenser next to the sink and soaked them with the cold water, holding them to her eyes, repeating the process to calm the redness and swelling that she knew was there even without looking in the mirror.

She was pregnant. One hand reached down to cup her belly. She really was going to have her own baby. At that thought a mirthless laugh escaped her. Of course it couldn't be easy. She felt that her life never was. She steeled herself for the interaction to come. Doing her best to make herself presentable before emerging from the small room and back into Pippa’s office. Softly closing the door to the water closet behind her she looked up, trying to be more careful of her footing now that she had what she had been dreaming of to protect. She raised her eyes to the chair to see that the previously empty one next to hers was now occupied. Occupied by a scowling Draco Malfoy.

“It's you.” They seemed to both speak at the same time.

The sneer in his voice was palpable while the blood drained from her face, fear reflected in the same words that came from her. She froze where she stood, her knees felt weak, and her heart hammered in her chest. She blamed the fresh tears coursing down her cheeks on the hormones coursing through her system.

Draco watched her, eyes wary, unmoving and silent as Hermione shook her head, mouth opening and closing, teeth clenched behind her plush lips. He waited a moment before finally moving, reaching to the desk to jerk tissues from the container there and hand them to her. His eyes tracked her flinch when he jerked the tissues so he slowed his movements.

“Sit, before you fall.” His voice was rough in the quiet of the room.

Hermione made her way to the chair next to him on shaky legs, seating herself and then twisting sideways to keep him in her field of vision. Her head slowly shook back and forth. “I…..What…..” she paused each time, seeming to be so lost in the chaos of her thoughts that she couldn't complete any one thought.

Draco cleared his throat and began to speak. “Gringotts informed me this morning that an account would be opened for the newest Malfoy Heir and that a sum would be transferred monthly into the account from the main Malfoy vault. Upon receiving that information I came here immediately. The only potential for an heir would be from the samples they keep here.”

“What, what?” Hermione’s mind whirled. “That can't be the only way. Surely.”

Draco sneered, derisive at the question. “Unless a child could be conceived by my hand, or down the throat of a witch, this is the only way. They fucked up, and now we need to deal with this.”

“D…Deal?” Hermione’s hand came protectively around her belly. “No!”

“Salazar, No! Do you think so lowly of me that I would even suggest that?”

“I…I don't know what to think right now.” Hermione whispered, gaze dropping while she tried to process. Her baby, HER baby. She had done so much in the last months to make this a reality, to have her chance at being a mom. This Trainwreck of a situation wasn't something she had ever envisioned or prepared for on this journey.

She barely caught the end of Draco’s words, she was so lost in her own thoughts.

“...Malfoy Heir…figure out a plan.”

Hermione met his gaze again. “I…I don't need your help. I can handle everything on my own. They can close the account at Gringotts and no one needs to know.”

“You think I would be fine with knowing I have a child and having nothing to do with them?” His voice seethed menace again.

Hermione's wide eyes met his. “I don't know. I just, you need to know that you don't have to. You have an out. This was my choice. MY baby.”

“He is my baby too!” Draco all but shouted. “This isn't what I expected today either, okay? I didn't expect to be a father when I've never even had sex before! I shouldn't have an heir! I woke up this morning to an owl stating I am going to be a father and now I have to deal with this, with you of all witches!”

Draco had stood from his seat while speaking and paced the room in front of the desk, his pant leg brushing Hermione’s leg with each pass.

Hermione’s mind went blank. Overwhelmed and distraught she slowly stood. Voice calm as she picked up her bag. “I need to go now.”

“What?” Draco stopped his pacing, watching her warily. “Granger.”

“I need to go now. Goodbye Malfoy.”

“Granger, we aren't finished” Draco called as the door shut behind Hermione and she was gone. By the time he went after her all he saw was the green glow of the floo in her wake.

Chapter 9

Hermione trudged up the steps to her flat, her purse hanging from one shoulder and a grocery bag with a pint of ice cream hanging from her hand. She fully intended to eat the entire thing tonight for dinner. She would go back to healthy tomorrow. Tonight, she was going to eat her ice cream and mull.

She dropped her purse on the entry table and made her way to her room, changed into her comfiest pajamas, grabbed a spoon from the kitchen, and settled to the floor in her living room. She peeled the lid from her ice cream and dug in, her back to the couch and her coffee table with a college lined Muggle notebook and pen in front of her, where this particular notebook lived, for exactly this purpose, processing.

She flipped to a new page and stared at it, the white paper mocking her empty brain. Snatching her spoon from the table she speared it into her ice cream, shoving a too large amount into her mouth and instantly giving herself a brain freeze. Taking a deep breath after the painful sensation she chastised herself. ‘Deep breath. It is going to be okay. I just need to figure this out….and don't give yourself another brain freeze!’

She was much more conservative with her next spoonful, and the spoonful after that. Little bites, just like she needed to take to solve this new problem, little bites. Hermione was lost in her thoughts, jotting all of the questions she needed answers to and then ideas of how to solve all of the potentialities she could think of in the coming months down in her notebook of how to handle this. She had no concept of time while she was lost in her thoughts and was surprised when she looked up at the clock and read it was 11:38 pm. She took a deep breath, stretching her back and dropping the pen from her cramping fingers when she heard tapping. She realized then that the tapping was what had disrupted her thoughts. She looked to her window. She hadn't received an owl to her apartment in years, why would….her thoughts paused as she caught a glimpse of the Great Horned Owl perched on her sill. One that she remembered from her days at Hogwarts.

Hermione rose, stiff and sore from sitting on the floor so long and hobbled to the kitchen. She grabbed a bit of meat off of the filet that was supposed to be her dinner to offer the owl in exchange for the letter currently tied to his leg. Carefully unrolling the parchment she took in the elegant script belonging to Draco Malfoy.

Ms. Granger,

We were not able to come to any conclusions during our meeting today. I believe I am correct in the assumption that we were both shocked by the news we received. Would you be available to meet to further discuss the situation we have found ourselves in? I am happy to meet in a place of your choosing.

Please send a return response with the owl.

~Malfoy

Hermione’s thoughts jumbled again. If this was the beginning of what she had read about called ‘baby brain's she was well done with it already. She ripped a page from her notebook and scrawled a response.

Yes, we should meet. Tomorrow, 6pm, at the Italian restaurant near the statue of King Charles the first.

Hermione quickly rolled the page and tied it to the owls’ foot before it took off into the night.

She picked up her ice cream carton, put the spoon in the sink and tossed the empty carton in the trash. She made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth before falling into bed. Sleep took a long time to come. Her mind reeled with all of the possibilities of the future.

When sleep finally did claim her she felt as if she had just closed her eyes when her alarm went off announcing that it was time for her to get ready for work. She struggled to roll out of bed and begin her morning routine. She spent extra minutes viewing herself in the mirror trying to see if she noticed a swell in her belly or breasts. She did note an increased tenderness and the ever present nausea which she now knew was morning sickness. She made a mental note to grab ginger candies from the Muggle pharmacy, she had read that would help.

She took her normal route to work, switching her normal morning coffee to decaf and resigning herself to missing her AM pick up from the caffeine. The day seemed to droll on forever, yet accomplish nothing. She had fuzzy recollections of her meetings and realized she would need to review the minutes again before following up. As her after work meeting loomed closer her anxiety soared. Meeting in public was a precaution she felt needed. Meeting in a Muggle restaurant adding another layer of insulation from both being seen by others of wizard kind and from any magic he could use against her.

Ten minutes before she needed to leave her desk she escaped to the bathroom. Using a quickly conjured hand towel she wet it in the sink to place against her neck to cool and calm herself. Breathing deeply, she wiped her brow, smoothed her hair, and straightened her clothing before making her way to the restaurant a short jaunt from the Ministry.

Hermione checked her watch as she neared the restaurant, noting that she was seven minutes early. She stepped inside and up the two steps to the seating area and scanned the room. Draco was easy to pick out seated in the back corner. He sat in a chair across from a booth that took up the wall, tables set at intervals allowing for parties of two or four.

He caught her eyes with his own as she approached, raising from his seat and grabbing her bag from her shoulder to place it between his chair and the wall to the side of his chair. Hermione, shocked by the gesture, allowed it. Her eyebrow quirked at the gentlemanly gesture until Draco spoke.

“That bag is too heavy for you to carry. You need to be careful.”

Hermione was immediately defensive. “It isn't that heavy. It also has been considerably lightened.” Her statement came out in a huff.

“Then it needs to be lightened further. I will fix it before we leave tonight.”

Hermione fought the instinct to roll her eyes at his behavior. She quickly slipped into the booth seat, taking a moment to look around the restaurant to assure herself that no wizard folk were there to witness, whatever this was between the two of them.

Hermione took a deep breath, ready to jump into conversation, before Draco interrupted.

“What would you recommend to eat here?”

Hermione glared at Draco. “What?”

“You suggested we eat here. I assume there is something you would recommend?”

“Um,” Hermione shook her head, “N..no, I've not been here before. It just seemed best to eat somewhere that would be more private.”

“I see, that makes sense.”

The waitress came by, asking for drinks orders at that time. They both ordered and Draco asked for a recommendation for food, accepting the suggestion without hesitation, ordering for both himself and Hermione. Everything happened so quickly Hermione hadn't even had a chance to look at the menu. She felt bulldozed already.

“Malfoy, you can't do that. What if that isn't something I can have?”

“I've been doing quite a bit of reading. Everything in that dish is fine for a pregnant woman to consume.”

Hermione gaped at the admission. “But, we both just found out. How?”

“As I am sure you are aware Malfoy Manor has one of the most well appointed libraries. There are several books on magical pregnancies that I was able to reference last night. I've been reviewing the texts since.”

Hermione paused, evaluating him. “Why?”

“If I am to be a father I need to ensure that my heir will be healthy and well cared for, have the best opportunities in life. That begins with how the mother takes care of her own health. Consider my interest in your health to be quite vested.”

“As I said before Malfoy, you don't need to care. I wanted to have a child on my own and I fully intend to. I am sorry that the clinic made a mistake, but you do not need to be concerned about my child.”

“Our child,” Draco corrected. “Whether or not I was prepared, I will be part of any child of mines’ life and ensure that they have everything they need. While neither of us chose this, I think it prudent that we make the best out of this situation.”

“But what if I don't want you in our life?”

“I could always petition for paternity of the child.” “No!” Hermione exclaimed. “This baby is mine.”

“This baby is Ours.” Draco reiterated, again. “Here is what I propose. I believe you will see that I am being quite reasonable. I would like visitation once the child is born. I would also like to have an active role in the child's life. I will provide for the best education that can be afforded. I also would like to help you during the pregnancy. I know it will be difficult."

“What on earth are you talking about Malfoy? Women have been having babies since the beginning of time. I will be just fine. As for visitation. I will consider it, but only supervised. I will not have you teaching MY child hatred and bigotry.”

“OUR child will not be raised like I was. I will never raise my voice, or a hand, with our child. They will never be taught the hatred I was growing up. I do not have room for it in my life now.” Draco's words were quiet at the end.

What did he mean by now? Hermione thought his phrasing odd and opened her mouth to ask exactly what he meant when he began speaking again.

“I also think you should read some of the books I have in my library in regards to pregnancy. Have you read anything about what to expect with a magical pregnancy? Have you made plans for a leave from work? Do you have help at home?”

Hermione became irate. Did he think she was helpless? Pregnancy wasn't a walk in the park by any means but she was fully capable of caring for herself and her baby. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind but was cut off by the waitress dropping their orders down at the table.

The steaming pasta was set in front of her, the red sauce dusted with chili flakes. As soon as the steam rose from the dish and into her face she felt the nausea roil within her belly. She promptly stood from her seat, pressing one hand to her mouth and the other against the arm of the waitress, pressing her out of the way as Hermione bolted for the bathroom. She made it just in time for the meager remains of her lunch to come up.

After heaving for nearly twenty minutes Hermione quickly made her way out of the ladies room and snuck out the back door. She forgot about her bag on the floor next to Draco. Her only goal was to avoid Draco as much as possible, and the smell of the food on the table in front of him. She would owl him tomorrow with an apology, she just couldn't deal with him right then.

Hermione’s walk home, already miserable with the taste of vomit on her tongue, became worse as the rain began. She realized at that point she had forgotten her bag when she had reached for her umbrella and discovered she had left it. Shaking her head at her own impulsiveness she rushed the last few blocks to her flat.

Later that evening the same Great Horned Owl arrived on her sill. She thought to herself, at this rate she would need to begin investing in treats for the damned thing. She knew her attitude was miserable. The nausea was awful and wearing on her. She hadn’t been able to keep down more than a few digestive biscuits all day and she was seriously withdrawing from caffeine.

Hoisting herself from her couch she wrapped the blanket she had been under around her shoulders to slide the window open and retrieve the parchment from the owls’ leg.

Granger,

As we were not able to come to an agreement regarding our situation I fully intend to retain possession of your bag until we are able to meet and discuss this further. I am able to host at Malfoy Manor tomorrow evening at Five o’clock.

~Malfoy

Hermione sneered at the missive. Absolutely not! She grabbed her pen and scribbled below his haughty demand.

Under no circumstance will I ever return to Malfoy Manor.

With that she trudged to the kitchen, grabbed the first meat she could find while nausea roiled through her causing her to gag. She quickly flung it at the owl on the sill, attached the parchment, and sent it on its way. She lay back down on the couch, muttering to herself that only she would be able to find herself in this situation, and drifted off to sleep.

She woke to tapping at her window again. Growling to herself she rose again from the couch to greet the owl who was becoming very familiar. She flung the window open and reached for his leg with far less trepidation than she normally would have.

Granger,

Fine. I will be at your flat tomorrow at Five o’clock for our discussion. How fortuitous that you left your bag and I now know your address. Also, quit feeding the owl. I promise he is well fed and your spoiling is unwarranted. Hopefully this is not an indication of how indulgent you will be with Our future child.

~Malfoy

Hermione’s blood began to boil. She reached for her pen to scrawl a scathing response only to find that the owl was gone, not waiting for her to return the note with her reply. She paced her living space, finally slamming her window closed after several long minutes.

Did he think that she did not have things to do? How dare he invade her privacy by going through her bag, didn’t he know any better? Spoil? SPOIL?! She would do what she damn well pleased, screw his opinion!

Sleep was hard for her to come by again that night. Her emotions roiled her stomach to enhance the constant nausea that she felt. At least it was a Friday night and she didn’t have to work tomorrow. After hours of tossing and turning she finally left her bed and went to the nursery.

Chapter 10

Hermione had half a mind to leave her flat for several hours that evening to avoid Malfoy. The only thing that prevented her was her conviction that he would wait until she returned, no matter the hour, and the ever present nausea. She had stomached all of two digestive biscuits, a ginger hard candy, and some ginger tea all day. This morning sickness was for the birds, she concluded again.

Brushing her teeth for the tenth time that day she smoothed her hair again and checked the clock. He should be arriving any minute. She made her way to the living room, a bit unsteady from the ongoing poor nutrition. A knock sounded so she veered for the door, opening it quickly to see Malfoy standing there. His face scowled down at her.

“You did not even check to see who was at the door before opening it and I don't see your wand in hand. You need to be more careful. It is more than just you to worry about now.” He quickly pushed into her apartment, careful not to jostle her as he passed and pulled the door from her hand, closing it and sliding the locks home. “I also noted a concerning lack of wards and protections which I will be remedying as I leave.”

Hermione blinked at him. She felt quite like she had been hit by a steamroller that she was coming to learn was Malfoy. She watched as he turned to her, finally taking her in.

“Granger, what’s wrong?”

Hermione blinked up at him before moving further into her flat, heading towards the couch in her living room. “Nothing, Malfoy,” she sighed.

“There certainly is,” he began as he followed her, standing in front of the coffee table as he addressed her, “you have dark marks under your eyes, look exhausted, and haven't begun yelling at me yet.”

Hermione released a small chuckle. Of course that would be what tipped him off, her lack of yelling. She was quite tired at this point in the evening given the poor sleep from the nights before and her body’s refusal to keep anything down.

“I'm just listening Malfoy, waiting for you to be done with your tirade.” She stifled a yawn right as she heard the kettle whistle. She began to stand to retrieve it.

Malfoy pointed at her imperiously. “Stay, I will get it.” He strode towards her kitchen without waiting to see if she obeyed and returned quickly with her teacup and saucer she had already prepared with a ginger tea bag and some honey. He carefully handed the steaming cup to her, ensuring she had a good hold on it before releasing.

“What is going on Granger?” He asked as he perched on the edge of the sofa next to her.

Hermione took a moment to inhale the steam rising from her cup, the ginger soothing the ever present nausea. “Nothing I can't handle.”

“I didn't say you can't. I just want to help if I can.”

His voice was gentle now, coaxing even. Hermione found herself answering even though she had not intended to.

“I'm not sleeping well and the morning sickness is atrocious. I'm exhausted.”

“Why aren't you able to sleep?”

Hermione huffed out a laugh that lacked any form of humor. “Oh, I don't know, probably because I found out that the fertility clinic I went to majorly fucked up and now I will have to share my child with a person I have barely been in the same room with since Hogwarts. Who is the most demanding and argumentative arsehole I know.”

“Oh, just that.”

“Just that?” Hermione raised her voice, “Just that?! Like that isn't a hell of a lot for one person to handle.”

Malfoy shook his head, lowered his elbows to his knees and allowed his head to fall to rest on his steepled fingers. “I think we can both agree that they majorly fucked up. At this point, I can't change it, so I'm trying my best to find a solution that works for both of us. Have you informed the Ministry? Do they know you may need to take time off over the coming months?”

It was Hermione's turn to shake her head. “What are you talking about Malfoy? I'll take off when the baby is born but I'll work up until then.”

Malfoy turned his head, his grey eyes boring into her honey brown. “You have no idea, do you?”

“Treating me as if I am stupid is not any way to win favors Malfoy.” Hermione’s tone began to gain her usual fire again at Malfoy’s implication.

“I think it would be best for me to lend you some of the diaries from the Manor Library. I think reading the accounts of previous pregnancies would help you understand.”

“Understand what Malfoy?” Hermione practically growled.

“The more powerful the witch, and wizard, the harder the pregnancies tend to be.” Malfoy’s gaze wavered to her now cool cup of tea.

“I think we both know that is total bullshit Malfoy. If this is just some game to insinuate yourself into my life you had better come up with another plan because this one frankly sucks. None of my friends have had any trouble with their pregnancies. I'm sure the clinic would have told me if there was going to be a problem.”

It was Malfoy’s turn to growl. “First of all, there is no plan. I just want this baby to be healthy and happy and to be part of its’ life. Secondly, none of the witches you are friends with are anywhere near as powerful as you are, nor are their husbands as powerful as I am. Lastly, the clinic couldn't even get the samples correct, do you really think they are capable of knowing the best kept secret of the pureblood lines? That the reason there are so few of us is because of the toll that pregnancy takes on the women when their children are so powerful?”

Hermione stared blankly at Malfoy for a moment. “Fine. Please send the journals. I'll read them.” She moved to take a sip of her tea, grimacing now that it was cold. Malfoy moved to take the cup from her and she jerked back, nearly spilling it down her front in the process.

“I just wanted to get you a warm up.” Malfoy gently took the cup and saucer from her hand and went into the kitchen. They both took much needed deep breaths when the other was out of eyeshot.

“Granger,” his voice came from the kitchen, “when was the last time you ate?”

Hermione’s eyes rolled at the question. “Earlier.”

“Let me rephrase, when was the last time you ate more than ginger tea and one of the digestive biscuits sitting on the counter?”

“Food has been, hard. The morning sickness has been particularly bad the last few days. It is apparently quite normal.”

Malfoy handed her cup back to her, a sour expression on his face. “When is your next appointment?”

Exhaustion was beginning to wear on Hermione and it reflected in her voice. “Wednesday, after work.”

“May I come? I have some questions I would like to ask.” Malfoy’s eyes were on hers again.

Hermione couldn't look away from him as he stared at her. “Fine.”

“Okay,” Malfoy nodded, “I will meet you there.”

Hermione nodded back, finally taking a sip of her tea. He had added the right amount of honey to it. She hummed in approval as she let it sit on her tongue.

“Gimyn,” Malfoy called out, causing Hermione’s brows to furrow in confusion before a house elf appeared before them dressed in neat slacks and a small light blue button down shirt.

“Yes, Master Malfoy?” Came the response from the small creature.

“Would you please retrieve the journals and diaries that I have set out on the table in the library? Ms. Granger will be borrowing them for a short time.”

“Of course, Master Malfoy.” As quickly as he had appeared he disappeared and reappeared again, holding a stack of seven books, bound in what looked like dragon leather. “Here they are, Sir.”

“Thank you Gimyn. This is Ms. Granger.”

The small elf bowed neatly at the waist. “It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Granger.”

Hermione knew her eyes were the size of saucers at what had just happened. “H…Hello Gimyn. Th…Thank you for bringing these.”

“Certainly Miss. Is there anything else Gimyn could do for you?”

Hermione’s eyes went to Malfoy’s for direction.

“No, thank you Gimyn. I will see you later this evening. Oh, Gimyn, if Miss Granger ever calls for you please answer her call. She is to be treated as you would my mother or myself going forward.”

“Of course, Sir.” Gimyn quickly bowed again and with a snap, disappeared.

“Wha….What was that Malfoy?”

Malfoy turned to Hermione, “That was Gimyn, one of the Malfoy house elves. He will be available to you at any time, day or night, that you may need him. You only have to call out his name and he will come to you.”

Hermione shook her head at him. “No, I understood that. I mean, he was so clean and well cared for. Dressed so well.”

“Oh, that,” Malfoy shook his head. “Yes, back when I was in school there was a little club that made me realize that not everyone in the magical world was treated as they should be.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye as they seemed to sparkle with mischief. “It took some convincing since the elves seem to think that clothes, money, and self care is beneath their total dedication to servitude, but I was finally able to sway them to believe that caring for themselves and their appearance is just as important as serving the family.” He turned to look at her fully again, “After all, you can't take care of someone else properly unless you, yourself, is well cared for. So now they have their own wardrobes, a newly added wing to the Manor, an expense account they are allowed to purchase anything they need with, as well as time to care for themselves in whatever way they see fit. Though those last two were quite the challenge to convince them of.”

Hermione’s breath left her lungs. She was shocked at what he had just said and that confession warped her brain to the point of speechlessness.

“On that note, I will take the fact that I have rendered you speechless as a success. Here is your bag,” he pulled the item from his pocket using non verbal magic to restore it to its normal size. “I did take the liberty of putting additional charms on it to lighten it for you. I also spelled it so that not just anyone can open it.” He looked at her pointedly.

“Thank you.” Hermione said with uncertainty.

“Good night Granger. Don't get up, I'll see myself out. I'm also putting wards on this flat for your protection.”

With that he stood, fluid and confident in his movements, and walked out. The locks clicked into place behind him as Hermione watched from the couch.

“That was….that was….,” Hermione shook her head, “I don't even know.”

Chapter 11

Notes:

Morning sickness, talk of termination of pregnancy/unwanted pregnancy, reference to a blood curse, feeling faint/pregnancy symptoms

The next day, after spending the first few hours on the floor of her bathroom retching into the toilet, Hermione made herself a cup of ginger tea, put two digestive biscuits in a bowl, and made her way to the couch to begin reviewing the journals Malfoy had left. She started with what looked to be the oldest, figuring that it would be best to start from the beginning.

Skimming the content for notes on pregnancies was her primary goal. She would go back through them for a more comprehensive review later as there were some interesting nuggets of information, especially if she was now going to be beholden to Malfoy in some way. The first account of pregnancy was relatively normal by her understanding.

As she finished looking through that particular journal and looked up to check the time, she realized that several hours had passed. In addition to several hours having passed. She also noted that there were still two biscuits in her bowl and that her tea was still full and still hot though she was certain she had finished them while reading.

“Gimyn,” she called.

The house elf appeared with a small crack in the air. Again he wore small slacks and a button down shirt. Today he wore a child size bow tie that matched his green eyes.

“Yes, Miss Granger,” Gimyn asked.

“Have you been refilling my cup and bowl today?”

“Yes Miss Granger. Master Malfoy has assigned Gimyn to help. Gimyn is very sorry. Did you not wish Gimyn to provide you refills? Gimyn greatly apologizes. Master has forbidden Gimyn from punishing himself without express permission. Shall Gimyn ask Master Malfoy what punishment Gimyn should give himself?”

Hermione looked at Gimyn with consternation. “No Gimyn, you do not need to be punished. I simply did not know you were doing it and did not expect it. From here on out please be sure to ask if I want something please.” Hermione paused, “and do not go in my bedroom.”

“Yes, of course Miss Granger.” Gimyn responded. “Would you like a refill on your tea and bowl?”

“No Gimyn I would not. Exactly how many times have you refilled them?”

Gimyn brought his finger to his chin. His wide eyes peered up towards the ceiling. “You've had three full cups of Tea and four digestive biscuits. It is nearly two in the afternoon. Would you like something else? I have a lovely recipe for pumpkin soup.”

The pumpkin soup did sound delicious but Hermione did not want to be someone who required looking after.

Before Hermione could respond Gimyn said, “I will need to make it for dinner tonight anyway. It would be no trouble to make extra for you. It would make me very happy to do so.”

A small smile graced Hermione's face as she looked at Gimyn and gave him her permission to bring her a small amount of soup for her to try. She knew that service was ingrained into House Elves both innately and culturally. She did not wish to upset the small elf by refusing him entirely. She did hope that her stomach would tolerate the soup though.

Gimyn disappeared again and Hermione moved to the next journal. This one described the pregnancy of Nicholas’ mother. It seemed that the family picked the name of the child before their birth if the last two journals were any indication. Perhaps they had the gender revealing spells completed to know which name to pick.

Hermione found herself staring away from the pages in thought before she shook herself and went back to the journal. The pregnancy was more challenging than the first she read about. Morning sickness started sooner and ended later than what would be expected as normal but it was mostly relegated to the mornings. It seemed that, for the most part, that pregnancy was mild from 10 am through the end of the day, the worst being from the time the mother woke until mid-morning.

Hermione tabled that journal on top of the first one she had read and moved to the second. Reviewing them much faster now that she had decided to only look for information in regards to the pregnancy.

The third journal describes the pregnancy of Lucius I. Though Hermione cringed at the name she continued to read. This mother, though nameless in the family tree, seemed to be quite a strong woman. She not only documented her daily life but her achievements and magical abilities. Once Hermione found the passages about her pregnancy she noted that this woman had had several pregnancies and experienced a severe increase in her symptoms of pregnancy. Morning sickness that plagued her throughout the day, weakness and fainting occuring in the first months of pregnancy, and food sensitivities. It also seemed that she had terminated pregnancies with female offspring, then worked to place what amounted to be a curse on the family so that marriages would only produce male heirs. Hermione’s jaw dropped in horror at the casual way the woman addressed the logic behind terminating pregnancy based on gender alone.

The woman was placed on bed rest for the last full month of pregnancy. The notes on the birth seemed rather typical. Hours of labor, a witch midwife who assisted her with what she described as a fairly normal experience.

When Hermione put the third journal on the pile of them that she had already reviewed she found tears coursing down her cheeks. The woman had seemed to have a logical approach to ensuring a male heir for her family but towards the end of her pregnancy, one that the woman had realized would be her only due to the strain it placed on her body, Hermione couldn't help but share the woman's sorrow. She had wanted those girls, had wanted all of her babies. It was the expectation that she provided a male heir that drove her to do what she did. She also worked to ensure that other women in the Malfoy line would never have to suffer as she had. Once her tears had dried and she reached for the next journal Gimyn appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Miss Granger, Gimyn has finished your dinner. It is ready. Where would you like to take your meal? Gimyn also has a fresh cup of ginger tea for you.”

Hermione startled at the interruption, unused to House Elves after so many years away from Hogwarts. Gasping and pulling her hand to her chest she took a moment to breath before responding.

“Gimyn is so sorry Miss Granger. Gimyn did not mean to startle you! That is not good! Please allow Gimyn to go to Master Malfoy for punishment!”

Hermione quickly cleared her throat. “No! No, Gimyn it is fine. It wasn't your fault, I'm just unused to having anyone here with me.” Hermione made to stand and quickly realized her legs had gone to sleep beneath her curled on the couch as she had been. She promptly fell back amongst the blanket and pillows that she had been ensconced in.

“Oh dear! Oh dear! I must get Master Malfoy!”

Before Hermione could say “No,” again Gimyn was gone. Moments later Malfoy apparated directly into Hermione’s apartment just inside the front door.

“Granger, what's wrong?” Malfoy’s face was a mixture of fear and panic as his eyes roved over her.

Gimyn appeared next to Malfoy, his voice a picture of misery as large tears coursed down his cheeks and he tugged harshly at his ears. “Gimyn scared Miss Granger and she fell! Gimyn is a terrible elf and should be punished. Poor Miss Granger! It is all Gimyn 's fault!”

Malfoy took a moment to look down, clearly exasperated by the small elf next to him. “Granger?”

“It's fine Malfoy. I'm fine. I just stood up too fast after sitting too long, that's all.”

“You haven't gotten up at all today?” Malfoy demanded over the waterworks of the House Elf beside him. “Gimyn, I need you to be quiet now.”

The House Elf snapped his fingers and rid himself of his voice. His lips still moved with self condemnation and tears still coursed down his face even though Malfoy’s words were not harsh. They could have even been considered kind with the tone he used.

Malfoy turned back to Hermione, “Why haven't you gotten up at all today?”

“I sat down on the couch after puking my guts up for most of the morning okay. I haven't felt like getting up since. I've been reading the journals, as YOU suggested. Was I supposed to schedule intervaled breaks for exercise or something?” Hermione was short tempered at his questioning and her tone conveyed her agitation.

“No, but I'm concerned that you aren't eating or drinking enough if you are spending hours without going to the kitchen or the bathroom.”

“Oh,” some of Hermione’s fire ebbed. “Well, Gimyn has been very kind today with refilling my ginger tea and biscuits.” Hermione saw Gimyn turn to her when she said his name, his large eyes blinking up at her and hanging on her words as if they were highest praise.

Malfoy looked to Gimyn. “Thank you for taking care of Granger.”

Gimyn began crying again. His mouth moved but still no noise came from him as he clutched Malfoy’s leg at the praise.

Malfoy looked back to Hermione. “You need to eat more than digestive biscuits and drink more than a few cups of ginger tea. Have you had anything else today?”

Hermione began to simmer again, her annoyance at Malfoy’s high handed dictate growing. “No, Malfoy. Gimyn was just bringing me something for dinner,” she grumbled.

Malfoy moved as if he were going to come further into Hermione's flat but found himself still held by Gimyn. “Gimyn, please go home and prepare dinner for Mother. I will be home shortly. You may speak now.”

Gimyn snapped his fingers and replied, “Gimyn will do his very best!” He quickly disappeared.

Malfoy strode the rest of the way into the living room and made for the doorway to the kitchen. He grabbed the tray with the still steaming soup and brought it to Hermione in the living room. He gently set the tray down in front of Hermione, scooting the Journals out of the way so he could set down the tray. As he moved to pick up the journals to move them to a side table Hermione leaned forward to smell the soup and promptly slammed her hand to her face, then bodily into Malfoy as she ran for the bathroom. Malfoy was still working to catch his balance as the sounds of retching filled the apartment.

Chapter 12

Notes:

Severe pregnancy symptoms

Hermione made it to the toilet just in time. She knelt before the porcelain, elbows on the seat with both hands holding her hair back on either side of her head. After what little was left in her stomach came up she was left dry heaving over the seat, tears streaming down her face when Malfoy came in trying to do something to her hand. Initially she tried to wave him off but that only seemed to help him with his goal of handing her a wet cloth. The next thing he did shocked Hermione. He gathered her hair in his hands and held it away from her face, the mass of curls pulled to the nape of her neck, safe from the mess. He was surprisingly gentle with his hands, coaxing her curls rather than trying to run his fingers through them.

She pressed the cool cloth to her forehead, cheeks, and then to her lips, taking long moments to see if she would begin again. After several minutes had passed and she thought she would be okay she flushed and turned her head slightly, voice raspy with what had just occurred, “Thank you Malfoy.”

Hermione moved to sit on the floor, her back to the side of the tub.

“What do you need?” Malfoy asked.

“Um, could you get me some mouth wash?” Hermione indicated the large blue bottle sitting on the counter next to the sink.

Malfoy quickly opened the bottle, poured into the cap, and handed it to he. Rinsing and replacing the cap when she handed it back. He watched Hermione carefully as she swished and spat the blue liquid into the toilet before flushing it again.

“I'm worried.” Malfoy said softly. “You can't keep anything down and what you do manage isn't staying down. I want to talk to the Healer about it at the appointment on Wednesday.”

Hermione nodded at him tiredly. “Okay, that's fine. I wanted to ask the same thing.”

“Will you be going to work tomorrow?”

“Yes Malfoy, I will be going to work. Many women still function while dealing with morning sickness. We just make sure to bring a toothbrush with us.” Hermione tried to chuckle at her own joke but even she heard how flat it was.

Malfoy nodded solemnly. “Okay. Well, you probably should get to bed then. If you can't eat then you should at least rest.”

With that Malfoy reached down and grabbed Hermione’s hands that had been resting on her knees. Hermione was not expecting the move and, as he pulled her up to her feet, she over balanced and fell into Malfoy. His arms quickly wrapped around her to keep her from falling while she stumbled trying to get her feet underneath her. Hermione’s hands were clutching at his shoulders, Malfoy’s clutching at her hips, before she realized how close they were. Hermione quickly stepped back, putting space between them, blushing furiously at the tiles in front of her feet.

When Hermione finally looked up at Malfoy his hands were still held up between them in a position of surrender. After a moment he finally met her eyes.

“I'm……sorry. Why don't you go to bed? I'll deal with the soup.” With that Malfoy slowly walked backwards into the hallway before turning to walk away and into the living room.

Hermione took a deep breath and moved towards the door of the bathroom. “Thank you Malfoy,” she called out from the doorway before turning the opposite way towards her bedroom. She left her door open out of habit. Crookshanks was no longer with her but she had gotten used to never closing a door. She climbed into her bed, happy that she hadn't changed out of lounge clothes today and could just sleep in them tonight. She didn't feel right changing with Malfoy in her apartment.

She pulled her covers up to her chin while she listened to dishes clanking together and water running in the kitchen. Was he washing her dishes? Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable at the prospect.

Sleep tugged at her before she could finally drag herself from the warmth and comfort of her bed. She vaguely recalled the form of Malfoy at her bedroom door with a softly uttered “Sleep well.” When she woke to her alarm the next morning.

Hermione stumbled from the bed, still feeling exhausted. She moved to the bathroom of her flat, groggy and fuzzy in the harsh light of the florescents. She took a moment to breath before she started the water for her morning shower. She continued with her normal routine, noting that she was a bit dizzy from time to time and added it to her mental checklist of things to review with Pippa.

At work Hermione took to keeping a trash can next to her desk, she didn't think she would actually make it to the break room. She was proven right when she had to use it multiple times throughout the day. She had to admit, without Gimyn 's assistance she was not consuming enough liquid throughout the day. She wasn't able to keep down what she had drank either.

Hermione had had to excuse herself from two meetings so far that morning and was dreading the next when her assistant popped her head in the door to ask a question. The tuna from the girls lunch wafted into the room, causing another bout of vomiting to begin. Only to be made worse when the girl walked further into the room in a tizzy trying to help. When Hermione was finally able to speak she practically croaked. “Get. Out. Please.” The demand did not sound at all like a request.

Long minutes later Hermione's’ stomach finally calmed and she was able to cast a scourgify up on both her mouth and the waste basket next to her. She took a deep breath and collected her notepad and pen, holding her breath as she walked past her assistant's desk and made her way to one of the appointed meeting rooms. The

She managed to make it through the day without further incident, taking time to speak with her assistant at the end of the day to explain that she was expecting and that she had noted some sensitivity to smells. Hermione indicated that the tuna appeared to be a trigger and requested the girl take her lunch to the break room rather than eating at her desk, she should be taking a break during the day anyway. Her Assistant was very kind and understanding, she easily agreed to ensuring she took her lunch away from her desk going forward.

On the walk home Hermione felt much better knowing she wouldn't have to endure the smell of tuna again. The cool air and brisk walk soothing her flushed cheeks and sour stomach as she made her way to her flat. Nothing sounded good for dinner. Hermione knew she needed to eat. She would have to try something besides the digestive biscuits tonight.

Spotting her usual grocery store on the way she ducked in, scanning the aisles for anything that looked appetizing. The only thing she found that didn't cause nausea to roil in her belly was a bag of crisps. Unhealthy, but better than nothing? She thought to herself. She quickly checked out and made her way back to her flat, happily munching on the salty treat while she walked.

Unlocking her flat she swept inside, making her way towards her bedroom. She registered the smell as she walked down the hall, before she even registered what the smell was she careened through her flat to the bedroom losing the crisps she had just consumed.

Sinking to her knees in front of the floor she realized her flat smelled of food, specifically, of fish. Gimyn appeared in the doorway only to disappear followed by a loud crack in the entry. Hermione was too busy retching to do much more than look up when Malfoy appeared in the doorway, cloth in hand, before he came to her side and pulled her hair back for her.

After a time, Hermione spoke. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. While it was nice to be taken care of, she didn't want Malfoy running every time she vomited. She wiped her face and mouth with the wet cloth before pulling away to sit back on the floor and look at Malfoy. “You don't need to come every time I'm sick. I've been dealing with this for a while now. I'm okay.”

“Gimyn came and got me. I've instructed him to remove the food and the smell from the flat.”

“Thank you. Is he still here?”

At her question Gimyn appeared in the doorway. “Yes Miss Granger, Gimyn is here. Gimyn is very sorry for upsetting Miss Granger. Master Malfoy has told Gimyn he is not allowed to punish himself.”

“No, Gimyn, do not punish yourself. This is very normal for me right now. I do want to ask that you not call Malfoy whenever I am sick though. He doesn't need to be taken away from whatever he is doing just to hold my hair.”

Gimyn looked at her with his large eyes, nodding.

Malfoy looked to Gimyn. “It's okay now, you can go home.” The way he addressed the elf was almost tender, so different from what Hermione would have expected. He then turned to Hermione. “My work can be done anytime. I don't mind being called upon if you need me Granger.”

Hermione waved her hand in the air, dismissing his offer and quickly changing the topic. “What exactly do you do, anyway Malfoy?” Her tone a bit harsher than she intended given what he had just don't for her.

“Well, Granger, it is quite funny. As much as people do not want to be affiliated with the Malfoy name, they have no problem asking for funding from the Malfoy coffers. Suffice it to say, I run an investment firm of sorts.”

Malfoy reached down, offering his hand to Hermione to help her stand. This time, when he tugged her to her feet, he was much more cautious. He also realized just how light she was which was beginning to concern him. “Have you been able to keep anything down today?”

Hermione’s expression turned sour and she practically growled at him in response.

“I will take that as a no then Granger.”

Hermione gestured for him to move out of the bathroom, and out of her way, so she could make her way to the kitchen. She went through well practiced motions of filling the kettle, setting out her cup, and doctoring it with honey and a ginger tea bag. Her movements were quick and efficient as Malfoy watched her from the doorway.

“How many of the journals have you made it through?”

“The first three.” Hermione’s growl was gone from her voice now, fatigue taking it's place.

“I reviewed them before compiling them for you. Would you like my notes on all of them? I would lend them to you.”

“I'll get through them.”

Malfoy looked at Hermione quizzically, brows furrowed.

“Look Malfoy, most people's notes are pretty terrible. It's usually easier to just read the text for me.”

Malfoy nodded as if in understanding, agreement even. It made Hermione wonder if he truly understood the frustration of trying to read through others' chicken scratch.

They stood in silence until the kettle began to whistle. Hermione went about making her tea and brushed past Malfoy to make her way to the couch. Before she sat, she turned. “You can go now, you don't need to stay. I'll be fine.”

Malfoy tipped his head. “Good evening Granger. I'll send Gimyn with my notes. If you dislike them, send them back.” With a crack he disapparated.

A few moments later Gimyn appeared at Hermione’s side with a stack of parchments. “May Gimyn please refill your tea this evening Miss Granger?”

The hope in his large eyes at being allowed to do anything for her swayed her. “Yes Gimyn, that is fine.” Hermione took the parchment from Gimyn and began looking through it quickly, convinced she would find flaws and could cast them aside. She noted that his handwriting was immaculate, far more than her own. His thoughts were complete and concise, and each page bore a timeline from conception to three months after birth. The final page a compilation of the increase of severity of symptoms as the timeline became closer to current and the working theory that as each generation procreated they chose more and more powerful partners. The theory being the stronger the magic of the child, the more challenging the pregnancies became. Hermione focused on reviewing the notes from the first pages, recounting the journals she had already finished. If this theory was accurate, this pregnancy, and the challenges, were just beginning.

Chapter 13

By Wednesday morning Hermione could definitely tell that something was wrong.

Walking into the Ministry she could feel eyes on her, following her movements as she made her way to her office. Conversation died as she walked by only to begin their tittering cadence once she was sufficiently out of earshot. At lunch both Harry and Ron barged through the door to her office in their Auror robes, each with their hair askew as if they had been running fingers through it.

Hermione quickly looked up at the commotion they made pressing in through her office door, slamming it behind them. Ron was the first to speak.

“Who is he?” Ron demanded.

“Who is who?” Hermione responded, her expression quizzical.

Harry interjected, “What Ron means to ask is, are the rumors true?”

“The rumors? What rumors?” Hermione’s right brow arched at her two best friends, and meat heads, who were making absolutely no sense.

Ron began pacing, his hands fisting his hair on either side of his head. He spoke quickly and low, Hermione imagined he was trying to talk to himself but he was still loud enough to hear. “Godric, she doesn't even know what is being said about her. She could be knocked up with any blokes spawn and she has no idea. I knew I should have set her up with Neville, or hell, even Ernie McMillan! At least they would have made an honest woman out of her.”

Hermione was done hearing Ron blathering on. “Ronald Weasley! What ARE you talking about?”

“Bloody hell Hermione? Please tell us it isn't true. Please tell us you aren't up the duff?”

“Ron, what the hell are you talking about?”

Harry watched the two as if it were a ping pong match, their words the ball, as his gaze swung from one of them to the other.

“Up the duff, eating for two, in the family way, bun in the oven, knocked up. Pregnant Hermione? Are you pregnant?” Ron yelled from across the room glaring down at Hermione as if she had gravely disappointed him.

Hermione took a deep breath to center herself before responding. “Not that it is any of your business, Ronald, the answer is yes, I am expecting.”

Ron looked at Hermione, his eyes wide as saucers and seemed to stop breathing before he tipped backwards, falling into a dead faint. Quick wand work by Hermione saved him from smacking into the floor. She gently laid him on the carpet then turned to address Harry.

“What is wrong with him?” Hermione asked with a shake of her head.

“Um, well, I think he is surprised is all.” Harry said slowly, as if speaking to a child. “I think I'm pretty surprised too.” Harry made his way and collapsed into one of the chairs in front of her desk. He pulled his glasses off, using his thumb and forefinger to punch the bridge of his nose. “Um, Hermione, please don't take this the wrong way, but, um, do you know who the father is?”

Hermione glared at her best friend, not that he saw her, he was still pinching the bridge of his nose like it would save him from this conversation. “Yes Harry, I do, though I didn't plan to.”

“Didn't plan to? Um, okay, nevermind. So, you got pregnant on purpose?” Harry had given up pinching his face and had seated his glasses back on his nose. He met Hermione's eyes now though his expression was pained.

Hermione sighed with exasperation. “Yes Harry, it was planned. I got pregnant on purpose.”

“Okay,” Harry took another deep breath. “I didn't know you were with someone, or that it was serious.”

Hermione gave her head a small shake. “I'm not, with, anyone.” She used her fingers to make air quotes around the word ‘with.’

At this Harry stood and began to pace. “That isn't any better Hermione. So you what? Just decided you wanted to get pregnant and went out to find some bloke without telling him? Does he at least know now?”

Hermione cut Harry off before he could repeat what Ron had just done. “Of course not Harry. I've wanted to have a baby for a while. I have dated and just haven't found anyone I wanted to marry or have children with. I went to the new Fertility clinic to conceive.”

Ron chose that moment to sit up, much like raising from the dead. “So you just decided to have a baby and went to the clinic? How do they even? No, I don't want to know. Nevermind. Do you at least know the bloke who is the father? Bloody hell Hermione. How do you just decide these things?”

“Ronald, that is quite enough from you.” Hermione shot a glare at him that she knew from experience would make him think twice before speaking again. “I decided I wanted to have a baby so I'm making it happen on my own. I can afford and support a baby on my own. It doesn’t make sense to wait around and hope the right guy just shows up to whisk me off my feet. Lastly, I do know who the father is. I'm not some harlot and the two of you, of all people, should know better.” She glowered at them both, giving them her most disapproving look.

Harry had paused his pacing and shook his head, eyes downcast at the floor. “We really mucked this up Hermione. I'm sorry. We just heard the rumors and we were worried about you. You know you have our support in anything you do. Any kid of yours will be our family too. It'll be good to add to the family and they'll have plenty of cousins.”

Harry tried to charm Hermione with a lopsided smile but Hermione was still irritated at her friends assuming the worst before even speaking with her.

“I just can't believe you two. The next time you hear something, why don't you just come and ask me.”

Ron interrupted, “that's exactly what we did. That's why we are here, in your office.”

“Come and ask me instead of barging in here and slinging accusations.” Hermione seethed.

Ron looked appropriately chastised at Hermione’s words. He took a moment to look down at his shoes in contrition before he began speaking again. “So, what are you going to do?”

Hermione heaved a sigh, something she was becoming much too familiar with, and good at. “What do you mean ‘what am I going to do?”

“Well,” Ron started and then paused, like he was actually thinking about what he was about to say before speaking. “Well, like, most families have someone who stays home to take care of the kids while the other person works. So, what are you going to do? What is your plan once the baby comes?”

Hermione prayed for patience. “I will utilize daycare services or a nanny while I am working. I’ll take a little bit of time off after the baby comes and then I’ll be back at work just like normal. Lots of mothers work and raise their children just fine.”

Harry nodded along, his experience in the muggle world giving him similar expectations of child rearing. Ron, however, was aghast.

“You are going to come back to work? A nanny? You’ll have someone else raise your child while you are at work every day?”

Hermione’s anger exploded. No longer simmering but fully fledged into fury. “Ronald Weasley, you get out of my office right now with your antiquated ideas of how to raise children. I don’t EVER want to hear you speak to me about raising children again!”

Ron looked at Hermione confused. “What? I’m just asking Hermione.”

“Why don’t you go and ask Parvati what she thinks about what you just asked me, hmm? See how you like sleeping on the couch for spouting such nonsense!”

Ron continued to gape at Hermione until she physically moved to push him from the office, standing at the door waiting for Harry to exit before she closed it behind them with a little more force than necessary.

Hermione settled back down to her desk and set about compiling her notes for her afternoon meeting. She had half an hour before it began and it would be her last meeting of the day, allowing her enough time to floo to her appointment with Pippa. She was anxious about the appointment, especially since her clothes were beginning to hang off of her with the weight she was losing from the intense morning sickness. Hermione gave herself a shake and went back to her notes.

Just as she was beginning to leave her office a soft knock at the door caught her attention. Before she could respond Kingsley walked into the room, speaking a soft greeting and seating himself in one of her chairs. “Good afternoon Hermione. How are you doing today? Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

Hermione looked at Kingsley quizzically. Outside of their once per week update meeting she rarely saw him, he was always busy and being pulled in many different directions during the day. “I have a meeting in just a few minutes, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, the Kensington case? I took the liberty of rescheduling it. I think this conversation is likely a bit more important.”

Hermione’s brow rose. “This conversation?”

“Um, yes.” Kingsley at least had the grace to look awkward when he said, “There is quite the rumor that you have decided to start your own family?”

“Yes,” Hermione responded, intending the response as both acknowledgement and answer.

“If that is the case, I wanted to inquire about your plans for the future?”

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding. “What do you mean Kingsley. I think we’ve known each other long enough now to speak plainly.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll speak plainly. Do you intend to resign?”

“No, of course not!” Hermione responded, hand to her chest and aghast at even the suggestion of leaving her post.

“So, it is just a rumor then.” Kingsley said it like a statement rather than a question.

“No.” Hermione responded.

It was Kingsly’s turn to give Hermione a quizzical look. “Please, explain?”

Another deep, cleansing breath for Hermione before she began the explanation she had not planned, nor really wanted to give, to her boss. “Yes, I am pregnant. I decided to have a child on my own since I am in a position financially and emotionally to raise a child on my own. I do plan to continue working up until I give birth and then I plan to return shortly after the baby is born. I believe our policies allow for twelve weeks of maternity leave. I would be happy to begin working part time from home six weeks postpartum since I know that my position is important.”

Kingsley looked at her, stunned into silence. It took him long moments before he spoke again. “Okay,” his tone was patronizing. “So, you are going to come back? And, you have thought about childcare and have a plan?”

“Yes, Kingsley, I will be back. I plan to begin interviewing for a Nanny a few months before I’m due.”

Kingsley nodded in an exaggerated fashion. “Okay. Well, I guess we will just see.”

“Kingsley, you are never one to mince words. Why are you being so odd about this?”

“Hermione, I don’t think you have realized, typically when women begin to have children they, how to say this, focus their efforts in the home rather than in an office.”

Hermione interrupted, “That is a load of codswallop. Plenty of mothers have children at home and lead rewarding professional lives.”

Kingsley raised both of his hands up in front of his chest in a universal sign of defeat. “I’m certain you will be able to handle it Hermione.” With that he stood. “Please let me know if you need anything.” He quickly exited her office, seemingly trying to put as much space between the two of them as possible.

Hermione rolled her shoulders and looked at the clock. If she didn’t leave now she was going to be late. She grabbed her bag and quickly stuffed her files into it that she would need to review tonight and walked to the floo’s, doing her best to ignore the tittering voices around her that she now knew were busy sharing rumors of her pregnancy. As she walked she racked her brain for how the news had gotten out, she hadn’t been planning to tell anyone. She quickly realized with a press of her lips and nod to herself, her assistant… They would be having words.

Chapter 14

Hermione made it into the lobby three minutes before her appointment time. As she neared the front desk she noted Malfoy sitting in the reception seats. With a small nod in his direction she proceeded to check on with the Receptionist and then moved to take a seat near Malfoy. She didn't sit next to him, but rather across from him.

“Granger?”

Hermione realized when she had sat she had closed her eyes, taking a moment to process the day she had just had and recall the questions she wanted to ask. She quickly opened them and turned her gaze to Malfoy.

“Malfoy?” Hermione intoned, her voice was tired and she disliked the look of worry that had come to Malfoy's face. She noted that he held a parchment in his hands, lists of what looked to be questions on it.

“Are you okay? Malfoy asked.

“Yes, I'm fine. It's just been a long day.” Sometimes Hermione struggles to fuse the boy she had known at Hogwarts and the man now sitting across from her. No longer was he the pompous, callous bastard, nor the exhausted, haunted shell he had been. Now he seemed comfortable in his own skin and content at least. He didn't seem happy, which she couldn't blame him for, but he didn't seem angry anymore.

Before either of them could say anything further the mediwitch called them back. She stopped them at the door, asking Hermione if she was okay with Malfoy being there.

“Yes, it is fine.” Hermione said with a quick not as she made her way through the door.

They were shown to Pippa’s office, a place Hermione was becoming more and more familiar with. Pippa sat behind her desk, glasses perched on her nose as they entered. She seemed taken aback at first that Malfoy was with her but quickly pulled on a professional mask and welcomed them both to sit.

“Hello Hermione, Mr. Malfoy. First I must ask you Hermione, are you okay with Mr. Malfoy being here with us today?”

“Yes Pippa, I gave him permission to come.”

“Very well,” Pippa gave a quick nod before shuffling the pages on her desk. “How are you feeling? You look as if you have lost weight.”

“Yes, the morning sickness is quite bad. I'm not able to keep much down because of it.

“Well, that is to be expected. How are you sleeping?”

“I haven't been sleeping well either.”

“That can be normal at this stage. It tends to improve for a while but will become difficult again towards the end. Any swelling that you have noticed or lightheadedness?”

“Oh, yes, I have been light headed a few times.”

Pippa seemed to have found the page she was looking for and began scribbling furiously across it as they spoke. She asked several more questions, assuring Hermione that everything was quite normal and not to worry.

When Hermione asked her questions she felt rather dismissed. She was surprised that so many things were waved off as normal when they seemed so extreme to her. Once Hermione's questions were dismissed Pippa turned to Malfoy.

“Any questions?”

Malfoy had an elbow balanced on the arm of his seat, his hand resting under his chin, a slim finger across his lips. He slowly straightened in his seat, pulling the parchment from his lap.

“Yes, I have several.”

Pippa nodded at Malfoy, indicating for him to begin.

“The level of morning sickness she is experiencing is extreme. We both can see that she has lost weight, even in the short time since the last appointment. Can she take a potion for nausea?”

“Well, yes, she could. It isn't something I typically prescribe.”

“And why is that?”

“Morning sickness is a normal part of pregnancy. The potion is unnecessary, expensive, and a potential waste of resources.” Pippa’s voice indicated her displeasure at being questioned.

“But a nausea potion would not be harmful, and could be very beneficial in relieving this symptom?”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, that is correct. I can write a prescription that could be taken to a potions master for fulfillment. It will be quite expensive.”

“That isn't necessary. I will ensure that she has them.”

“I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy,” Pippa grated, “this potion is best left in the hands of a Potions Master, not the average lay-wizard.”

“Then it is a good thing that I completed my potions mastery three years ago.” Malfoy's voice was icy. “Are there any other options that I can keep on hand for her? Dreamless sleep, pepper up, or draught of peace?”

Pippa pursed her lips. “As you likely know, if you actually have your potions mastery, those are all fine for a pregnant witch to consume.” Pippa pulled a parchment from a hanging folder in the desk drawer. “Here is a list of ingredients that should be avoided for the duration of the pregnancy.” Pippa handed a copy to Malfoy and Hermione.

“One more question Healer Mcmillon.”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” Pippa grimaced, her voice grating.

“Do you have experience with pregnancies of exceptional magical complication?”

“Mr. Malfoy, I have been an Obstetric Healer for my entire career, I assure you that I am quite familiar and well versed in magical pregnancy.”

“I have no doubt that you are quite capable of caring for the average magical pregnancy. I am asking how familiar you are with exceptional magical pregnancies. Ms. Granger and I were the strongest witch and wizard at our time at Hogwarts. We both scored exceptionally at our NEWTs, and both of us were performing magic far beyond our years while in school. My question, Healer McMillan, is, are you capable of caring for a pregnancy of exceptional magical potential?”

“Mr. Malfoy, I can assure you that Ms. Granger and her child are in good hands. It is Ms. Granger’s decision who she sees in regards to her, and her child's, care. If she is uncomfortable with the care I am providing I fully believe she has the ability to voice her concerns if she has any.”

With that Pippa closed the file on her desk with a quick snap of the cover and stood. “Now that that is established, Hermione, we need to perform your examination. Mr. Malfoy, you may see yourself to the lobby.”

“I will be staying.” Malfoy said sharply, meeting Pippa’s gaze.

Pippa quickly turned to Hermione. “It is your decision Hermione. Would you like for Mr. Malfoy to leave the room for your exam?”

Hermione felt that she had been far too quiet but hadn't felt at any point she had been able to interject during their verbal sparring match. Malfoy had made valid points and had potions knowledge that she did not if his claims at a potions mastery was to be believed. While his questions were a bit more pointed than she would have phrased it, Hermione was less than impressed with the reactivity of Pippa’s responses.

“He may stay.” Hermione's answer was short, succinct.

“Hermione, you do not have to let him stay. If you are uncomfortable I am happy to have him escorted to the waiting area or even out of the hospital.”

“Pippa, as you so eloquently stated, I am perfectly capable of making my thoughts and opinions known. I said, he can stay.”

With a sharp nod at Hermione Pippa conjured the exam table and motioned for Hermione to lay on the table. Magical medical assessments were much less invasive than the Muggle alternatives. Hermione reclined back on the table and Pippa waved a diagnostic charm above her, reviewing the reading and taking notes again into the file she had re-opened on her desk.

“Everything looks to be fine. Progressing as normal. You may sit up now. Any further questions?”

Hermione sat up slowly, disappointed at the lack of information that was being shared. “Is everything okay? Does everything look alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Pippa intoned with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You may make your next follow up appointment with the Receptionist.”

Hermione grabbed her bag from the floor, much lighter now than before thanks to Malfoy, and made her way to the reception desk.

The Receptionist greeted Hermione and Malfoy when they arrived back at her desk. Hermione noted with distaste the difference in the girl's behavior when addressing herself versus Malfoy. Her tone was overtly flirtatious, bordering inappropriate towards Malfoy which caused Hermione’s ire to rise. After a few moments of the inane chatter from the girl Hermione snapped.

“And when do I need to come back?”

The girl looked to Hermione almost as an afterthought, an unwanted distraction. “Hmm, let me see. You are at, seven weeks. Already a week late so early into the pregnancy. The next one would normally be at twelve weeks so, does the 16th work for you?”

“Of July?” Hermione asked, her planner out on the desk as she flipped through the pages.

“Yes, it is a twelve week appointment. That makes it July.” The girl spoke to Hermione as if she were daft. Something that grated and irritated Hermione to no end.

“Okay, later appointments are better for me.” Hermione said with a saccharine smile at the girl. She was trying to remain civil when all she truly wanted to do was scratch the girl's eyes out. Surely this increase in irritation was from the hormones. She wasn't normally this irate.

“We have a two o’clock.”

Hermione noted a meeting on her schedule that would conflict with 2pm.

“Nothing later?”

“So you don't want the two o’clock? These appointments are very important. Surely you can reschedule whatever is on your calendar to ensure the health of your child.”

Hermione saw red. She was milliseconds from throttling the girl when Malfoy gently rested his hand on her lower back. The sensation completely shocked her out of her fury, though it didn't remain banked long.

“Would you be able to look and see if there is a later availability? I'm afraid a 2 o’clock doesn't work for my schedule.” Malfoy smiled charmingly at the girl who quickly offered a 3:30 pm to accommodate his busy schedule. The girl also offered a rather barbed comment about how husbands were seldom in attendance at these appointments and often skipped them all together due to their busy schedules. She also made an exaggerated point in offering her help to Malfoy in case he needed anything at all that she could be of assistance with.

Hermione’s fury flared again at the last comment. She was about to open her mouth to give the girl a piece of her mind but that same gentle hand on her back gave her pause. She quickly tucked her planner away as Malfoy steered her out the clinic doors and onto the street as he gently guided her to her flat.

Chapter 15

Malfoy escorted Hermione to her flat. He was quiet and calm, at least on the outside, as he guided her by the small of her back. As they crossed the threshold to Hermione's flat Malfoy called out.

“Gimyn.”

The small elf appeared, trousers, a button up, but today sporting a tie with a tie clip holding it in place.

“Yes Master Malfoy?”

“Please retrieve an anti-nausea potion from my supply. Then, in twenty minutes, please bring something healthy for Ms. Granger for dinner.”

Hermione began to interrupt but before she could say anything Gimyn had disappeared, reappeared with a vial, and disappeared again.

Malfoy pressed the vial into Hermione's hand. “Please drink this. It will help.”

“Malfoy, stop.” Hermione felt like her head was spinning after the activity of the last hour and a half.

Malfoy paused before finally speaking, “I'm just trying to take care of you Hermione.”

“I appreciate that, but the high handedness is a bit much for me right now.”

Malfoy took a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh. “I'm sorry.”

The works were rough, like he didn't say them often.

“This is an anti nausea potion. I believe it will help with the nausea you have been experiencing and allow you to eat something. It is a potion I made myself so I can guarantee there are no ingredients in it on the list that Pippa provided for us.”

While Malfoy spoke Hermione had dragged her robes off, hung them by the door, and made her way to sink down on her couch.

“Okay, I will take it. I know I need to be able to eat something.” She quickly popped the cork from the vial and downed the potion.

“Thank you,” those words were just as rough coming from Malfoy as the apology. “May I make a request Granger?”

Hermione sighed, fatigue from the day weighing on her. “Ask away Malfoy.”

“Would you be willing to see a Healer Midwife that I know? She has worked with many of the pureblood families and is very familiar with pregnancies of exceptional magical difficulty.”

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Would it make you be nicer to Pippa, um Healer Mcmillon?”

“If you choose to continue to see Healer Mcmillon I promise to be polite. I worry that she doesn't have the background in pregnancies of this kind though, that is why I am asking if you would be willing to see the Healer. At my own expense of course.”

“Malfoy,” Hermione sat back and pinched the bridge of her nose, “I'm not worried about money. If it will make you feel better then fine, I'll see her. Okay?”

“Yes, thank you Granger.” The hope in his voice shone.

“Malfoy?” Hermione could feel a headache coming now that the ever present nausea was beginning to subside.

“Yes Granger?”

“You got your potions mastery?”

“Well, yes,” Malfoy answered, his tone questioning.

“Where? And why?”

“From a gentleman in France, one who had never heard my name before. No one here would take me on as a student. Why? Potions is something I have always enjoyed and been good at.”

“It was the only thing you beat me at in school,” Hermione interrupted. “Arguably due to favoritism.”

At that Malfoy chuckled. “I will stand by my skills in beating you, even if it was only once.”

Hermione found herself chuckling as well. Shaking her head at the situation she found herself in. Never would she have imagined sitting in her living room with Draco Malfoy of all people reminiscing about potions class.

Gimyn appeared with a tray of steaming broth, noodles and chunks of chicken combined together in a mouthwatering bowl. A roll glazed with honey butter sitting to the side. For the first time in days Hermione didn't feel the immediate need to rush to the bathroom at the smell of food. Gimyn set the tray down before her on the coffee table, a cloth napkin, cutlery, a glass of water and steaming cup of ginger tea were all on the tray as well.

“Thank you, Gimyn.” Hermione said almost breathless from the ravenous hunger she was now experiencing. She slid gracelessly to the floor, propping her back against the front of the couch with her legs crossed in front of her beneath the table. She looked up to see a smirk play across Malfoy’s face as she picked up her spoon.

“Let me know where and what time your Healer can see me. Afternoons are best for me with work.”

Malfoy nodded, his smirk dropping at the sudden change in topic. “She does house calls. I could have her come to the Manor one evening if you could meet her there?”

Hermione paused, soup spoon dipped into the heavenly smelling broth before her. “I, I don't know if I can go back there. Not after…” she didn't finish the thought.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. I can see if she could come here?”

“That would be okay.” Hermione nodded in agreement, her voice indicative of her distracted thoughts. “I'm usually home by 6pm.”

“I will make the arrangements then. Thank you Granger.” This time the words of appreciation were less unpracticed, less grated. Hermione could tell they were still a challenge for him though. With that, a loud crack sounded and Malfoy disappeared.

Hermione would have liked to take a moment to analyze everything that had just happened but instead fell upon the food in front of her. She thought that it was likely the best food she had ever tasted. She became full far too quickly and regretted leaving any of it uneaten.

Gimyn quickly appeared to whisk away her tray once she finished.

“Um, Gimyn,” Hermione quickly interrupted the small elf, “could the rest of that be saved for me to take for lunch tomorrow?”

Gimyn looked at her as if she had grown an extra head. “Miss Granger! Gimyn would be happy to make a fresh lunch for you tomorrow. Miss Granger does not need to eat scraps for lunch!”

Hermione’s eyes rounded at the outspoken little elf. “I would like to take the rest for lunch tomorrow. I don't like wasted food.”

“Gimyn will pack a lunch for Miss Granger for tomorrow. Gimyn would be honored to pack lunch for Miss Granger. Gimyn is so happy to see Miss Granger eating. Gimyn will make sure that Miss Granger has a nausea potion in her lunch for tomorrow as well.” With a self satisfied smile the elf disappeared, tray and all.

Hermione shook her head. She believed that she had just been steam rolled by a House Elf. Between Malfoy and Gimyn, this has been happening far too often lately.

The next day Hermione received an owl from Malfoy.

Granger,

The midwife I spoke of is available to meet tonight at your flat at 6:30 pm.

Please let me know if you are available.

-Malfoy

Hermione’s response was succinct and scrawled just below his message.

Yes, see you then.

Hermione trudged through the remainder of the day though it was made much better by her ability to keep down food and the soup that had been packed for her for lunch. Gimyn truly was spoiling her. She thought to herself, she would need to find something for him as a thank you. Perhaps more bow ties.

When she arrived home she pulled off her professional robes, leaving her modest pencil skirt and blouse on. She didn't know who was coming and she felt she would need the armor of her dress clothes. She set a kettle to boil and pulled down three teacups as well as an assortment of teas in a wooden tray from the cupboard.

By the time she had set everything on a tray and brought it to the coffee table in the living room there was a knock at the door. Hermione went to open it, this time being sure to look out the peephole to confirm it was Malfoy. He stood there with a lovely blond woman who was just a few inches shorter than he was. Hermione opened the door, welcoming them both and ushering them in. Malfoy motioned for the woman with him to enter first. Her perfectly coiffed hair and tailored clothing showing both style and an impeccable figure. Once inside, Hermione closed the door behind them and motioned for them to head into the living area.

"Hello Granger. This is Healer Greengrass.”

“Hello Ms. Granger. It is lovely to meet you. Please, call me Astoria.” With that Astoria held out her hand in a delicate, feminine version of a handshake that made Hermione feel awkward.

“Hello Astoria. Please, call me Hermione. I believe I remember you from Hogwarts. You were a few years behind us, right?”

“Yes, you have a good memory Hermione. I was a few years behind you two in school. I did stay for quite a few years once you were finished though to complete my medical training there before going to train at a hospital in France.”

Hermione smiled at her, genuinely liking the woman.

“Please, come in and have a seat. I just put the kettle on to boil. I set out an assortment of teas if you would like.” As Hermione turned to fetch the kettle from the kitchen Gimyn appeared in the doorway.

“Please, allow Gimyn to assist Ms. Granger.”

Hermione nodded at the small elf noting that he was far more pushy than she ever remembered the elves she had been around before had ever been. She made her way to the couch and sat in the opposite corner from Astoria. Malfoy had conjured a chair and sat across from them while he selected his tea and set the bag to steep.

“So, Draco tells me that you are expecting and we're hoping to speak with someone experienced in exceptionally magical pregnancies?” Astoria started. Her tone bell-like and soothing.

“Um, yes. Malfoy recommended me to you.”

“Yes, well, this area is a specialty of mine. That and breaking bloodline curses though that is another story entirely. Why don't you tell me what has happened so far.”

“Well,” Hermione started, then looked to Malfoy and blushed furiously. “Well, I have wanted children, a child, for a long time. After trying to find the right person and failing I decided that I would have one on my own. It is fairly common in the Muggle world. I do well enough to care for a child on my own, so I made an appointment with the clinic at St. Mungo's.”

Astoria nodded encouragingly. Her face never betrayed any of her emotions. She listened and encouraged Hermione to continue.

“So, I scheduled an appointment. They evaluated the scarring from an attack during the war and gave me a potion to help with the scar tissue.”

Astoria interjected at that moment. “What potion did they give you for pain in conjunction with the scar healing potion?”

“For pain?”

“Yes, the potions for healing scar tissue in reproductive organs can be quite painful. What pain relief potion did they give you?” Astoria questioned.

“They didn't give me any pain potions. I did ask them if the amount of pain I was experiencing was normal and they said it was and to stay the course.”

Astoria gasped. “I am so sorry Hermione. Those potions can be excruciating. I'm sorry you had to endure them. Were you taking them weekly or biweekly?”

“Um, they were prescribed daily.” Out of the corner of her eye she noticed movement from Malfoy. Darting her eyes to him she noted how the muscle in his jaw worked as if he were grinding his teeth.

“Do you have any extra of those potions perchance?” Malfoy gritted out.

“Yes, I believe so.” Hermione answered. Somewhat bewildered at the rage emanating from him.

“Please bring one to me?” Astoria soothed, her voice much calmer.

Hermione quickly made her way to the bathroom and back to the living room, potion in hand. Malfoy held his hand out as soon as she returned and she handed the potion to him.

“Malfoy, please be sure to give me a full description and ingredient list once you have analyzed it.”

Malfoy simply nodded at her as he pocketed the vial.

“Okay Hermione, what else did they give you?”

“Um,” at this point Hermione began glancing between Astoria and Malfoy, cheeks flaming as she remembered the effects of the fertility potion and everything she did that night, the fantasies she had had. “Well,” Hermione cleared her throat and decided to take the direct approach. “The second visit they gave me a fertility potion and a genetic sample with a self threading catheter with a syringe. They instructed me to take the potion and wait thirty minutes before inserting the sample and advised me to stay hydrated and that I would likely need to take the next day off of work.”

Before Astoria could speak Malfoy growled. “Do you have the remainder of the fertility potion they gave you?”

“Oh, no.” Hermione looked at him quizzically. “I have the empty vial but the instructions said to take the whole vial. Let me grab it.” When Hermione returned from the bathroom the second time it was to find Malfoy and Astoria in a heated whispered argument. They quickly stopped when they noted her return which put Hermione even more on edge.

“I would like to have Draco evaluate these potions that you were given. Is that okay with you Hermione?” Astoria asked calmly.

“Yes, that is fine.” Hermione agreed easily. That was a simple enough request.

“Great. Thank you. Alright, moving on, how have your symptoms been so far?”

“The morning sickness is much more manageable with Malfoy’s nausea potion. Before that I was only able to keep down digestive biscuits and ginger tea.”

Astoria nodded, a slight furrow forming between her brows.

“How long had that gone on for? The limited diet?”

“Oh, probably close to two weeks. The Healer said it was normal and they typically don’t prescribe nausea potions.” Hermione was quickly losing faith in Pippa the longer this conversation went on.

“Well, perhaps for typical pregnancies women are able to manage the morning sickness. I have found though that keeping the mother healthy by providing that potion for their comfort is far more beneficial.” Astoria explained. “Any other symptoms?”

“I am far more emotional than normal.” Hermione’s eyes jumped from Astoria to Malfoy. “Easier to anger and cry. I assumed that was just hormonal. I've also been craving crisps.”

Astoria chuckled gently.

“Hormones and cravings are quite normal and nothing to worry about. May I run a few diagnostic tests? You do not need to disrobe or anything like that. I can complete them over you clothing.”

“Okay, that is fine.” Hermione gave her permission quickly.

“Alright, if you could just lounge back for me against the couch. The first one is to review your vitamin and nutrient levels.” Astoria waved her wand before glowing letters and symbols hovered in the air above Hermione. A quick quill pen flew from Astoria 's bag on the floor next to her and began jotting down notes as Astoria spoke softly to herself. “This next charm will show your overall health.” Another wave and another set of glowing symbols and numbers appeared. After taking more notes Astoria stated, “and the last one for today. This one will show us how the baby is doing, their magical potential, and you should be able to hear their heartbeat.” One last swish and flick of her want and a loud, very fast, pulse filled the room. Tears swam in Hermione's eyes as she met Malfoy's astonished grey gaze. He had leaned forward in his chair, looking as if he would tumble out at any moment. Hermione knew she likely had a goofy smile plastered across her face in the midst of her tears. Being able to hear the heartbeat made everything so much more real. Astoria waited a few minutes to allow Hermione to bask in the sound of life growing inside of her before she gently waved away the spell and told Hermione she could sit up normally again. “Alright Hermione, first things first, I need to put you on some replenishing potions to help boost your vitamins, minerals, and nutrients that you lost. I also want you to be taking the nausea potions and eating healthy meals regularly. The good news is that the malnutrition did not affect the baby. Now, that last diagnostic I did showed that your child has a very strong magical core, which means that this pregnancy will likely be challenging in regards to your pregnancy symptoms. You should expect heightened issues with things like morning sickness, mood swings, cravings for food and sex are common, and later in the pregnancy you may need to go on bed rest. We will deal with all of these things as we get to them though, okay?”

Hermione nodded, blushing furiously at her candor in front of Malfoy, but reminding herself that Astoria was speaking in a strictly clinical manner and he was the one who wanted to be at her appointments.

“May I ask you a question, Hermione?” Astoria’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

Hermione nodded again.

“Do you know, or, would you be able to tell me who the father is? Your child will be quite the powerful witch or wizard.”

Hermione’s eyes shot to Malfoy's waiting for his response only for him to stay silent.

“It truly isn't any of my business. I was only being nosy.” Astoria quickly soothed. “Do you have any other questions for me?”

Malfoy spoke then. “Yes, what are her lifting restrictions? How many calories per day should she be consuming? How much sleep should she be getting each night? Which potions are safe? The other Healer gave me this list,” he pulled the parchment from an inside pocket, “she said to avoid each of these things. Is this list accurate and are there any others?”

Malfoy’s questions went on so Hermione took the time to sip at her ginger tea that Gimyn must have put a warming charm on. She didn't recall doctoring her cup with honey but she found it was the perfect sweetness for her already.

Chapter 16

The next two weeks were much more comfortable for Hermione. She was able to eat and drink like normal with the help of the nausea potions Gimyn delivered every day. Her flat had never been cleaner and the meals the little elf prepared were always delicious. She noted that her fatigue was increasing alongside her temper which she struggled to keep in check at times.

The first few days at work after her assistant had leaked the news had been taxing. She had had to pull the girl aside and deliver a stern lecture about privacy which included the implication that, if the girl couldn't handle discretion in matters such as these she may be better off looking for another position given the nature of things Hermione dealt with. The girl was appropriately apologetic and seemed to have discovered a filter.

Hermione hadn't heard from Malfoy except for a note with the next appointment date with Astoria. She assumed no news was good news. She didn't expect to have anyone at all during this time so having someone to sit through the appointments with was curiously enjoyable. Not that she would ever admit to it.

She had noticed that climbing the stairs to her flat, which previously had been inconsequential, was now a tiresome ordeal she did not look forward to at the end of each day. By the time she made it to the top of the stairs she would find herself winded, sometimes shaking, and occasionally lightheaded. She always composed herself before entering her flat, concerned that Gimyn would tattle on her. Hermione had read in one of the many Muggle pregnancy books she had purchased that these were all normal symptoms and to expect them.

Walking into her flat that Friday evening Hermione was exhausted. She was just over nine weeks and, while the nausea potion made a world of difference, she still had bouts of it in between doses. The fatigue was very real as well. She immediately went and found a pair of comfortable pajamas, happy to get out of her work clothes that had started to become a bit too snug. No baby bump yet, but she could certainly feel that her waistline was growing. She would have to pick up a few clothing items for the coming week, preferably with stretchy waistbands.

She had dinner at the Burrow on Sunday and no plans for her Saturday which should give her plenty of time to shop around Muggle London for clothes, as well as for some things for the nursery. She was excited at the prospects of a full day to spoil herself and her little one and couldn't break the smile from her face for the rest of the evening.

At dinner, Gimyn appeared with her potion and meal. Hermione had taken to asking the small elf questions when he would appear, which he would answer quietly before disappearing again. She never had much time with him. He seemed almost shy when asked about himself.

“How are you doing today Gimyn?” Hermione asked kindly as she slid down the front of her couch to sit before her coffee table where Gimyn had, begrudgingly, began to set her tray. He seemed to take great offence that she would not eat her meals at the small table in the kitchen.

“Gimyn is very well Miss Granger. How are you doing this evening, Miss Granger?”

“I am doing well myself. A bit tired but that is to be expected.” She smiled sweetly at the elf who, when seated as she was, was the same height.

“May Gimyn ask a question Miss Granger?”

“Of course Gimyn. Please, always feel free to ask me for anything.”

“Oh no Miss Granger. Gimyn doesn't ask for anything. Master Malfoy has been quite clear that anything Gimyn needs he is to provide. Gimyn even has a special account for his bow ties.” With that Gimyn adorably tugged at one side of the bow tie he had on that day. “Gimyn only wanted to know how Miss Granger would like her meals this weekend. Mistress Malfoy is having a ball and Gimyn is wanting to be prepared for Miss Granger.”

“Oh! A ball. That sounds very fun, but also like a lot of work.” Hermione thought out loud. “I actually plan to be out most of the weekend, Gimyn. If you could just bring the nausea potions to me for the weekend I will be fine on my own.”

Gimyn's ears drooped and tears began to fill his eyes. “Gimyn is bad. He made Miss Granger think he doesn't want to care for her.”

“Oh no! Not at all!” Hermione quickly made it to her knees and approached Gimyn, grasping the elf’s gnarled hands. “You are fine Gimyn. I was planning to go shopping tomorrow in Muggle London and on Sunday I have a family get together that I will be at almost all day. I wasn't planning to be home anyway. It is good that you brought it up, otherwise you would have been bringing me meals and I wouldn't have been here to eat them.”

“Is you sure Miss Granger?” Gimyn looked up at Hermione from under his lashes while large droplets fell from his eyes.

“Yes, I am absolutely sure Gimyn. Please bring me the potions and I will see you on Monday morning before work, okay?”

Gimyn nodded solemnly. “Yes Miss, Monday for breakfast. If you needs anything just tell for Gimyn and Gimyn will come straight away.”

“Of course. Please, no more tears Gimyn.”

Gimyn made a show of wiping his face with his sleeves and did his best to stow away his tears though his lip still quivered occasionally.

Eager to change the topic, and lift the elf's spirits, Hermione sat back down to her meal and asked the first thing she could think of. “Are you excited for the ball? Is it a lot of work for you and the other house elves?”

This this Gimyn seemed to cheer up and answered brightly. “All the House Elves are excited for the ball. This will be the first one in a long time. We is so excited it is like no work at all!”

Hermione smiled indulgently at the small elf. “What is your favorite part of a ball Gimyn?”

He put a finger to his chin as he thought. “Gimyn thinks Gimyn likes people enjoying food Gimyn and the other elves made the best.”

“I bet it is delicious!”

“Always! Gimyn was taught by the best French elves.”

“What is the ball for Gimyn?”

“Mistress Malfoy says it is to help Master Draco find a wife. Mistress says she is needing grandbabies.”

Hermione’s eyes rounded with the explanation and she nearly choked on her food. “Oh…that is….nice.”

“Gimyn must be going now Miss Granger. Gimyn will bring the potions for you and put them on the table in the kitchen.” With that the small elf disappeared.

“That's, awkward.” Hermione said to no one in particular.

Hermione struggled to sleep that night. Her dreams were becoming more and more vivid and she often found herself having nightmares of running. She was never certain if she was running to someone or away from something but she would wake up breathless and unable to fall back to sleep.

Checking the clock she noted it was still far too early, especially for a Saturday. She threw her covers to the side and made her way into the living room, dragging her book and notes for the enchanted ceiling out and began reviewing where she had left off. While she reviewed and jotted her thoughts the sky outside slowly lightened from black, to pink and from pink to a light blue with the occasional fluffy cloud.

She slowly stood, happy that she was alone today. She had opted to sleep in an oversized shirt and knickers, forgoing the shorts or pants she wore when she knew Gimyn was around. Stretching her arms above her head and rising on tiptoe she heard the crack of apparition as her mouth was open on a yawn. Hermione quickly grabbed for the hem of her shirt, jerking it down as low on her thighs as it would go as she bent at the waist. She quickly whipped her head up to see none other than Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall in her entry.

A smirk toyed at his lips as he took in her hunched form. Eyes sparkling at her attempt to maintain her modesty. “So, Granger, I hear we are going shopping?”

Hermione sputtered. “What…? Why are you…? I'm… Oh hell.” Hermione gave up trying to speak, held one finger up in his direction in the universal “wait” sign, and scurried down the hallway to her room slamming the door behind her.

Once in the relative safety of her room she lunged for her closet. Quickly grabbing an old pair of denims and another oversized T-shirt she quickly changed, noting that her denims nearly wouldn't button any longer. She had opted for the oversized shirt to help hide the fact that her hips had officially tipped into muffin top category.

She grabbed a scrunchie and quickly threw her hair into a ponytail and cast a scourgify charm on her teeth to eliminate any morning breath she still had. Be the time she felt more presentable and returned to the living room she found Malfoy holding her notepad in hand, reviewing her notes for the ceiling.

“Good morning Granger.”

“Malfoy,” she acknowledged him with a nod. “You know, you really shouldn't just apparate into someone's flat without them knowing to expect you. What if I had cursed first and asked questions later?”

“I'm sorry to break it to you Granger, your reactive skills are woefully lacking. I imagine you haven't practiced sparring since Hogwarts. Am I correct?”

Hermione’s lips pressed into a thin line. “There isn't much cause to practice sparring as a Junior Minister.”

“I would guess not. Still, it is something you should continue to practice. You never know when a quick response could come in handy.”

“I will take your suggestion under advisement,” Hermione growled out.

“This is sweet.” Malfoy held up the piece of parchment with her notes. “Are you intending this for the nursery?”

“Yes. I am.” Hermione was somewhat guarded in her response.

“I would be happy to help, if you would like that is.”

“Have you made one before?” Hermione’s tone changed, more interested now that he wasn't chastising her.

“Not yet, but I am rather good at puzzles and figuring out how to make things work. It may be a fun project, and completely illegal to have in Muggle London. What's not to enjoy?” His smirk was back and his sarcasm was thick.

Hermione's lips pursed in frustration. She knew it wasn't technically allowed but it was her flat and it wasn't like she entertained Muggles in it or anything. She wouldn't break the statute of secrecy. She shook her head at the implication.

“Why are you here Malfoy?”

“To go shopping with you, of course.”

One of Hermione’s brows rose nearly to her hairline. She was going to strangle that sweet little elf just as soon as she got her hands on him.

“Granger, breath.”

“What!” Hermione demanded.

“You were beginning to turn purple.”

“What?” Her eyebrows drew together and her brow puckered between them.

“Gimyn said you intended to go shopping in Muggle London today. Since I don't have anything to do until this evening I thought I would join you.”

“Malfoy, you don't even know what I'm going shopping for.”

“I assumed it would be for things for the nursery.”

Hermione's lips pursed again. “Well, yes. But I also need clothes. I don't need an escort.”

“Of course you don't. I would like to join you though. I could help with any heavy lifting.”

“Most stores deliver.”

“Well, then I will write down your address to keep your hand from cramping.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, the giggle that escaped immediately afterwards completely ruined the effect though.

Chapter 17

Shopping with Malfoy was a very distinct experience from any other. Not only was he interested in various Muggle inventions such as escalators and automatic doors he actually seemed interested in the various things for the baby that Hermione had listed to purchase that day. They had made their way to a home goods store that was known for having an array of nursery items. They perused the aisles looking at various cribs for the nursery and bassinets that she could keep close to her bed if necessary.

Hermione settled on a crib that was a deep walnut with a matching changing table and two half bookcases to match them both. While she wandered over to select a sage green rug for the room Malfoy disappeared. She assumed he must have gone to find a restroom, or a breather from all of the shopping. Once she settled on a rug that she felt was plush and soft enough she wandered the area until Malfoy returned, fearing he may become lost if she moved too far away.

“So, we've got a crib, a changing table, bookshelves, and I picked out this rug”, Hermione began and pointed to the rug once Malfoy returned. “Anything you think I am missing?”

“I did see you eyeing the bassinets. Did you want one for your room?”

“It seems a waste. They aren't very sturdy so I wouldn't be able to use it very long. If I need to sleep next to the baby I could always con…I mean, put a pallet down in the nursery.”

Malfoy grimaced, “okay. What other stores are on the list for today?”

“There are a few. You don't have to join me for all of them though. I would like to purchase linens for the crib, a few new work outfits, and pick up paint to begin painting the nursery.”

Malfoy's brows furrowed. “Paint? To paint the nursery?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded as she made her way to the counter oblivious to Malfoy’s confusion.

“Why?” Malfoy asked.

“I wanted to paint the room a light blue, like the sky.”

“Yes, but why are you painting it?” Malfoy asked the question just as they reached the checkout counter.

The girl at the counter smiled at them both. “It sounds like he is offering to hire a painter for you. How sweet! I just love it when couples care for each other like that! How long have you two been together?” The girl spoke as she took the slips of paper with barcodes on it for the items Hermione had selected.

“Oh! We aren’t…” Hermione began at the same time Malfoy said.

“Not very long.”

They looked at each other, Hermione chagrined and Malfoy with his all to familiar smirk.

The girl smiled at them indulgently. “Well, you are a very lucky lady.” She said with a wink at Hermione as she began to hand her the delivery form which Malfoy promptly snatched and began filling out, much to Hermione’s consternation.

“Malfoy.” Hermione said, perplexed at his behavior. By the time he has completed the form, she took the receipt, and they were walking from the store she realized she had never given the girl any kind of Muggle payment method. As she began to turn Malfoy placed an arm around her shoulders, stealing her out of the store and onto the street.

“I took care of it.” He said softly and without preamble.

“What? Malfoy! I am fully capable.” Hermione tried to stop but Malfoy’s arm around her kept propelling her forward.

“It is my pleasure to provide and I am very capable.”

Hermione managed to dig her heels in and stopped them both on the busy sidewalk. “I don't care if you are capable. I want to do this on my own. This is my choice.”

Malfoy stopped and turned to look her in the eye. “I understand. I just wanted to do something for the two of you. I have more money than I will ever use in my lifetime. Please allow me to do something.”

The look in his eyes as he spoke was earnest and seemed genuine. Hermione bit her lip, vacillating between wanting to yell or cry. Finally, she nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to quickly blink them away.

“Okay, but no more. Okay?”

Malfoy nodded.

“Okay. Thank you.” Hermione said as she peered up from under lashes that were spiked with unshed tears. At that moment Malfoy reached for her hand and brought it to tuck into his elbow as they walked. She noted how he always stood to the outside of the sidewalk closest to traffic and always took the lead at crosswalks. She could not deny the warm, cared for feeling that bloomed in her chest.

They made it to the store that sold linens and Hermione made her purchase of a sage green crib set that would match the carpet. Malfoy took the bag from the counter before Hermione could move to take it. He insisted on carrying it.

Before they began walking to the clothing store Hermione tried to convince Malfoy to leave to allow her to shop alone. When he refused she tried to say that she didn't need to go then and would go another day. Malfoy refused to take no for an answer.

“I will have you know, I have fantastic taste in women's clothes.” Malfoy said, putting on an air of flippancy and haughtiness that caused Hermione to giggle. Once achieved, a genuine smile splitting his face taking him from astonishingly handsome to drop dead gorgeous.

Hermione allowed him to steer her into a clothing store where she picked out a few items and made her way to the dressing room. Malfoy sat on a comfortable couch in the space, small private changing rooms with latching doors opened out to a mirrored gallery. He asked her to come out so he could see and, after much convincing, he managed to get her to do so. Hermione shook her head at his insistence but was finding with Malfoy it was easier to give in than fight.

After trying on two outfits that didn't fit quite right given the increasing thickness of her hips and abdomen Malfoy called out to her saying he would be right back. Hermione huffed from inside the changing room while wiggling out of the skirt she had tried on. Soon Malfoy was handing over several outfits above the door with strict instructions to try them on.

The first was an A-line dress of butter soft stretchy fabric that hugged her rib cage before flowing down to her knees. She came out of the dressing room, as he bade, and went to view herself in front of the gallery of mirrors. She did have to admit that Malfoy had a good eye for what would be flattering on her form. When she returned to the dressing room she finally began a ‘to purchase’ pile and placed it there. She tried on the next three outfits he had fetched, each fitting perfectly and flattering her figure. The added bonus was that each item had an elastic waist and or was stretchy enough that they would last her for longer than a few weeks.

Malfoy made all of the proper compliments on the outfits and seemed to be enjoying himself though Hermione knew most men would be bored to tears by now. He took all of the items from her as soon as she emerged dressed back in her street clothes and hung the rejected items on the restocking rack and carried the other items to the register.

A quick, pointed, look from Hermione and a stern, “No,” had him putting his Muggle card away so she could pay for herself. She did notice the press of his lips into a line of annoyance at her refusal to allow him to purchase anything. He took the second bag with her clothes, carrying it with the bag of linens for the crib before guiding her from the store with a hand at the small of her back.

“Last stop,” Hermione said as she stopped before a home improvement store. She pushed her way through the doors before Malfoy could maneuver himself to open them for her. That earned her a raised eyebrow and pursed lips from Malfoy. He was treating her as if she were breakable and, while it was nice, she still felt the need to prove herself as capable. She let them to the paint area and spoke with the clerk, asking for the shade of blue she had settled on and waiting for him to mix it. She watched Malfoy as he analyzed the process the mad behind the counter followed. As the man finished up, hammering the lid back in place with a rubber mallet, Malfoy seemed to find his voice.

“Is it safe for a pregnant woman to paint?” Malfoy asked the man at the counter.

“It isn't recommended. When painting the fumes can be bad if the area isn't well ventilated. Also, getting up and down off of a ladder while holding a brush or roller can be dangerous.” The man looked at both of them sternly. “I would say this is definitely your job sir. Let her rest with her feet up.” With a grimacing smile the man sent them on their way.

Hermione glared at Malfoy and turned to the aisle with painting supplies grabbing a drop cloth, paint tray, roller, sponge, brush, and tape before heading towards the front of the store. While walking she half turned her head to address Malfoy. “I am painting. I will not have anyone else in my house yet, I don't want Gimyn to do it, he already has more than enough to do, and I want it to be this shade of blue.”

Malfoy merely nodded behind her. As they stood to check out there was a stand of books near the register. She noticed Malfoy looking at them, being rather quiet but not arguing. She completed her purchases and they exited the store back onto the bustling sidewalk in the direction of her flat.

Malfoy was quiet as they walked. Their pace slow, leisurely even. “What are you doing tomorrow?” Malfoy finally spoke.

“I'll be at The Burrow for the monthly family dinner.” Hermione's answer was quiet.

Malfoy nodded. “You'll be there all day?”

“I usually floo over around 11 and we stay until the kids bedtime, so about 7:30-8 depending on how cranky they are. I usually get to spend time holding the babies while the adults entertain the older siblings. I'm sure there will be a bumblebee quidditch match in the garden.”

“Bumblebee quidditch?” Malfoy turned his head to look at her.

A large smile broke out over Hermione’s face. “Yes, it is quite adorable. They all get on their toy broomsticks and zoom around the garden playing. Harry managed to find a children's set of bludgers and quaffles and a snitch and I figured out how to charm them so they would be safe for the children to play with. I think James will be following in Harry’s footsteps.” Hermione said with a blissful smile. Her whole demeanor changed when she spoke of the children she claimed as nieces and nephews.

After a few moments Hermione glanced at the wristwatch she had conjured before leaving her flat and noted it was getting well into the afternoon. She hadn't forgotten that Malfoy had a ball to go to that evening, though she had avoided the topic all day. “We should probably be getting back. I'm sure you need to be getting home.”

“What time is it?”

“It is about two thirty.” Hermione moved her wrist to show him the watch face.

“What? How is it that late already? I should have fed you hours ago.”

A wry smile graced Hermione's face. “I'm not a cat that needs fed. I'm not hungry right now.”

“You need to eat. Eating small meals regularly throughout the day is supposed to help with the morning sickness.” Malfoy said seriously.

Hermione chuckled, “look who has been reading Muggle pregnancy books.”

Malfoy looked at her as if offended. “Of course! I need to know how to take care of you. Obviously someone needs to.” He said this as he steered her towards a cafe a few blocks from her flat.

Chapter 18

Notes:

So sorry, reposting after a quick edit. There was a bit of a whoops. Thank you to the person who caught it and commented! ❤️

Lunch was rather pleasant. Malfoy asked Hermione questions about her plans for the nursery and if she had had progress with her plans for the enchanted ceiling. He asked if she would like his help with the project and she reluctantly agreed. It would be nice to have someone to work with on the project rather than doing it all herself as she was so accustomed to.

They completed their meal and Malfoy insisted on paying. Hermione agreed begrudgingly, not used to others caring for her. Hermione was discovering that Malfoy had impeccable manners, he was quite the gentleman always opening doors for her and helping her into her seat. She couldn't remember the last time someone had done those things for her.

As they made their way to her flat Malfoy carried the bags in one hand and kept his other on the small of her back, his touch barely there but still present. Hermione wasn't sure what to make of the gesture. It seemed comforting and familiar yet strange at the same time. How could she be so acclimated to his touch when it was all still so new?

They entered her building and they began climbing the stairs to her flat. Hermione had to pause several times, she became winded easily which Malfoy found distressing. She did her best to assure him it was normal though he seemed hesitant to believe her. Once on her floor he quickly cast a non-verbal unlocking spell and ushered Hermione to the couch to rest. She sat and gathered herself while he wandered through her flat, she assumed to deposit bags in the nursery. Moments later he came with a glass of water and a stern order for her to drink it.

“I don't like that you are so easily winded and tired. I know we did a lot of walking today but the stairs worry me.”

“Malfoy, it is normal. All the books say it is to be expected.”

“Granger, this is serious. What if you are coming up the stairs alone and struggle? What if no one is around to help you if you need help?”

“I will be fine. It should get better with time.”

Malfoy looked at her with a grim expression, his lips pressed and brow furrowed.

“Fine, if it continues, I'll talk to Astoria okay? Will that make you feel better?”

“Slightly.” He responded, one eyebrow cocked.

At that Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don't you have a ball or something to get ready for?” Her flare of temper caused her to say something she hadn't intended to. Malfoy froze, his expression became hooded. It was almost a glimpse of the Malfoy she had known at Hogwarts, full of hate and intolerance.

“Yes, thank you for the reminder. I had best be going. Call for Gimyn if you need anything.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he stepped a few feet away and disapparated with a loud crack.

Tears came to Hermione’s eyes as anger welled at herself. She hadn't meant to ruin their day. She had been enjoying herself with him. That revelation alone was shocking enough, adding in the doting at the intense worry had been too much and then she had ruined their tenuous attempt at friendship by being a bitch.

Hermione set the glass down on the table and made her way to her room. She changed into a pair of sweatpants and quickly curled into her bed, tears still streamed down her cheeks and she lay there, sniffling, until she drifted off to sleep.

She woke up what felt like minutes later, her face swollen and crusty from her tears, a headache pounding in her temples and sinuses, and a bladder that felt like it was going to explode. She quickly made her way to the bathroom to relieve herself and make a cool compress for her face to try to calm her skin and sinuses.

Once she woke up enough to feel the rest of her body she realized that nausea was roiling in her belly and resting at the back of her throat. Thinking through her day she noted that she had failed to take her potions as she should have. Now, she didn't think she would be able to even stomach the potion. She stood for a few more minutes with the cool cloth to her face before laying it over the edge of the sink and making her way to the living room and collapsing onto her couch.

She dragged the blanket off the back of the couch and curled up under it. She noted the time and cast a quick non-verbal accio to bring her wand to her hand. It was close to 8:30 pm. The ball would be well underway at this point and Hermione noted an uncomfortable feeling in her chest. A tightness that felt a lot like jealousy.

With a quick flick of her wand she turned on her TV, a Muggle thing she had refused to give up once she had her own flat. While she rarely watched it she would occasionally play shows in the background if only to have noise in the flat. She quickly found a movie to get lost in.

As much as she tried to focus on the screen her thoughts kept rounding back to Malfoy and what his evening would be like. After the movie ended and she couldn't have told anyone the plot to save her life she turned the TV off with a flip of her wand and proceeded to stare at the ceiling, attempting to pull through her thoughts and feelings. After what felt like hours without success she got up and made her way back to her bed. Nausea still plagued her so she gave up any thoughts of food and hoped that tomorrow would be better.

Sleep was elusive that night. Between her emotions over Malfoy’s evening and her anxiety over sharing her news at The Burrow the next day Hermione found herself staring at her ceiling far more than actually sleeping. Getting up to get ready for the monthly family gathering was a trial in battling her exhaustion. After trying on every pair of jeans she owned she finally resigned herself to wear a pair of black yoga pants. She would need to go shopping for weekend clothes too it seemed.

Once she felt moderately presentable she made her way through the floo at to the Burrow. She was a bit early but Molly was happy to have help with the last of the food preparations. Molly was always so happy to see them all and always greeted Hermione with a hug, like she did her own children. Upon pulling back Molly made a bit of a face, one Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on.

“Have you been taking care of yourself dear?” Molly asked quietly.

“Um, yes.” Hermione’s answer was confused but honest.

“Are you sure? You look tired, like you haven't been sleeping well. And, well, forgive me but, have you put on some weight?” Molly’s questions were genuine in a motherly way.

Hermione tensed, not expecting such a direct question about her weight. Looking around she noted that they were alone. No time like the present she thought. “Well, I was going to make an announcement today anyway. Um, I'm pregnant.”

Molly’s eyes rounded in surprise. “What dear? What do you mean? Have you been seeing someone?”

“No, no, I haven't. I just….”

Molly interrupted, “Hermione Jean! Of all of my children I never thought you would be the one to have an accident!”

“No, no! Molly, this was planned.” It was Hermione's turn to be shocked. “I have always wanted a baby and I decided that since I am in a place where I could care for one on my own I would go ahead and have one.”

“I don't understand dear. What do you mean, on your own?” Molly had tears in her eyes that she was furiously blinking away.

“It is fairly common for Muggle women to have babies, children, on their own if they feel they are ready but don't have a husband. I decided that I would do the same. I went to the new clinic and selected a donor and I'm pregnant.”

Molly’s tears began to fall in earnest, she was no longer able to blink them away. “Oh, my dear. I'm going to worry but I am so happy for you. You have always been so independent. Please know that Arthur and I will always be here for you if you need anything.”

Tears had begun to fall from Hermione’s eyes as well. She sputtered but managed to get her words out. “I wanted to ask. Would you be willing to be my child's grandparents?”

Molly hugged Hermione fiercely. “Of course! Of course.” Molly was sobbing along with Hermione now as they clung to each other. That was how the rest of the family found them as they entered the kitchen.

Molly and Hermione broke apart to a chorus of questions. Harry and Ron quickly came to Hermione’s side, each reaching for her and placing their hands on her shoulders.

“What’s wrong Hermione?” Harry asked softly.

Hermione smiled through her tears. “Nothing is wrong Harry. Everything is fine.”

“Obviously not ‘Mione. You never cry. Who do I need to beat up?” Ron responded. Even after all these years he always spoke of using his fists first.

A small gaggle of children came forward, James taking the lead. “Yeah Aunt ‘Mione, who do we need to beat up?” James said this while raising his fists up like a boxer. This caused Hermione to giggle. Such a fierce protector he was growing up to be. Hermione placed her hand low on her belly, happy beyond measure that her child would grow up with such a large and caring family.

“No one my sweet James.” Hermione said while smiling down at him. “I'm just really happy right now.”

James looked at her with confusion. Not understanding at first, then nodding his head seriously as if in complete understanding. “Oh, like Mommy was when she had Albus in her tummy. It's okay Aunt ‘Mione. I understand.” James looked up at his dad, beaming at him, so proud of himself for understanding these grown up things.

“Well, that wasn't exactly how I was planning to tell everyone. I know some of you already know,” she met Harry’s and then Ron’s eyes. “For anyone who doesn't know yet, I'm pregnant.”

Hermione’s proclamation was met with a chorus of congratulations and confusion. The questions began pouring from her chosen family and she did her best to answer them. James waited patiently until he could snag Hermione’s attention.

“Aunt ‘Mione?”

“Yes sweet boy?”

“Daddy made me promise to help look out for Albus when he was in mommy’s tummy. I promise I'm gonna look after the baby in your tummy too.”

Fresh tears streaked down Hermione’s face as she crouched down to hug James to her. He hugged her back for a moment before he squirmed, ready to go off and play with his cousins.

Chapter 19

Notes:

An extra chapter in appreciation for that great catch earlier. 🙂

After the initial shock had worn off all of the women had surrounded her with well wishes, recommendations, and unsolicited advice. Much of it she let in one ear and out the other, not paying much heed to the things she already knew to expect; swollen ankles, weight gain, breast tenderness. They did share some rather funny stories though. A shower mishap that ended with Harry getting milk shot into his eye, late night cravings sending Ron out to find pickles and birthday cake during a snowstorm, tears and laughter shared with their husbands.

Listening to their stories, and their eagerness to share, was bittersweet. Each story featured both the witch in front of her and her partner. The two individuals featured having a shared adventure of parenthood. She loved her chosen family, especially since she no longer had her parents, but it was hard right at that moment when they shared their joy while simultaneously making Hermione realize what she would be missing out on as a single parent.

Ginny seemed to catch on and changed the conversation to focus more on pregnancy symptoms. “First, I'm just going to say, get as much sleep now as you can. By the time the third trimester starts it begins getting harder and harder to sleep. You'll be exhausted before the baby even comes. Second,” Ginny dropped her voice conspiratorially while she eyed the room for small ears, “you are going to have to get yourself a good vibrator. Once your hormones kick in, the cravings are insufferable! And Lastly, you know that you have all of us supporting you. If you need anything at all we are here for you. I can't wait to be an Auntie again!” Ginny hugged Hermione close while the girls around her chorused offers for help and support.

The afternoon bled into the evening while the children played. Hermione doted on her nieces and nephews throughout the evening and was sure to take her nausea potions on time, though her nausea was creeping in from time to time. When it was finally time to leave, the little ones tired and cranky, James gave her a large hug and whispered in her ear, “I love you Aunt ‘Mione.”

“I love you too, sweet boy.” Hermione managed to keep her tears at bay until he left with his parents, Albus asleep in Harry’s arms. Once they were through the floo Hermione couldn't hold back her tears so she quickly stepped through the floo and into her flat.

The first thing she noticed was that all of the windows were open and the heat of summer had made her flat sweltering. She knew she hadn't left them open when she had left. Hermione raised her wand before her, readying herself for anything as she creeped through her darkened flat. She passed through the living room without taking much in, she focused on the door down the hall with the door shut and light spilling out from underneath it, the nursery. She cast a quick non-verbal spell to open the door quietly and took in the illuminated room. On the floor there was a paint can, a paint tray, a roller and paintbrush. A book sat next to the items that looked familiar. As she continued to look around the room she saw that the walls were painted the pale blue that she had picked. Paint droplets littered the drop cloth that covered the floor, the walls were nearly completely dry. Hermione turned, flipping on lights with her wand as she went around her flat checking her bedroom, bathroom, then kitchen. When she reached the living room again she saw Malfoy on the couch. Paint smeared on his cheek, his hands, and the very Muggle coveralls he was wearing. He looked like he had slumped over after sitting down for a moment before succumbing to sleep, a plastic drop cloth between his paint splattered clothes and the couch beneath him. Hermione giggled, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hermione dimmed the lights with her wand, not wanting to wake him. She waved her wand to shut the windows and checked the thermostat to ensure that the AC would be running. She went back to the doorway of the nursery, another wave of tears falling.

“You don't like it?”

Hermione startled as she heard Malfoy address her from the end of the hallway. He walked closer as he spoke.

“I'm sorry. I went back to the store and bought the instruction book. I tried to do everything right. Do you not like the color or did I do it wrong?”

Hermione turned to Malfoy and as he came close she lunged at him, quickly surprising him and closing him into a hug, not caring that she may be getting paint on her clothes. “It's perfect,” she whispered into his shoulder.

It took Malfoy a few moments before he returned her hug, her arms had caught around his shoulders so he bent his elbows to place his hands around her waist, dropping his head to rest his nose in her curls.

After a few moments Hermione spoke again. “Thank you Malfoy.” She held him for a moment longer before stepping away. Her cheeks were wet as more tears fell and she tried to wipe her cheeks with her hands. “I'm sorry, these hormones are for the birds,” she said with a small chuckle.

“So you like it?” Malfoy asked cautiously. He seemed confused but optimistic.

“Yes, I love it. Thank you again.”

With a nod Malfoy reached forward to pull the door shut, using wandless magic to turn off the light. “You shouldn't be around the fumes. They are mostly gone but the door should probably stay shut. I'll come by tomorrow to clean up the mess once everything is dry.” Malfoy gave her a quick nod and walked towards the entryway. “Good night Granger.” With a loud crack he was gone.

Hermione stood there, confusion and surprise contorting her features. What had just happened? He had been so thoughtful to come and paint the room for her, why had he left so abruptly?

Hermione looked down at the paint that now marked her shirt and quickly spelled the mess away. Shaking her head she decided on a shower before bed. She grabbed her most recent book for sussing out how to enchant the ceiling alongside her notepad and set them on the bed, planning to distract herself until exhaustion claimed her.

Her shower turned into more of a thinking session. Why would Malfoy do something so kind and run away so quickly? Had he been in her flat all day? When had he gone back to the store to get the book? He looked so tired. How did the ball go last night?

With that last thought she quickly dropped her forehead to her palms. He had likely found some pure blood suitor last night that his mother would approve of. No wonder he ran from her, she had basically accosted him in her flat all because he painted a few walls. What was he thinking right now? Surely he thought her insane. He was only doing these things out of a misguided feeling of duty. He would never even speak to her if it weren't for the mix up at the clinic.

Anger stirred in Hermione’s chest. Anger at herself for getting so carried away and imagining something there that wasn't. She needed to get a hold of herself, she thought. She was Hermione Granger. She didn't need anyone to take care of her. She was perfectly capable of doing this on her own.

With a huff she shut the water off and dried herself a bit more vigorously than necessary. She walked to her bedroom in her towel and quickly pulled pajamas from her drawer. She would have to tell Gimyn that she wouldn't need his help anymore in the morning. She didn't need to take charity from Malfoy for something he never chose. She just hoped she could do so without breaking the small elf’s heart.

Chapter 20

Notes:

CW. Difficult pregnancy, bed rest, morning sickness, bleeding during pregnancy, infertility, near maternal mortality, fainting, fear(s)

Hermione was exhausted. Sleep was hard to come by and what little she did manage was riddled with worry and nightmares. When Gimyn arrived Monday morning she didn't have it in her to order him away. He was so happy to be back with her and had already planned meals for her for the week. Hermione acknowledged to herself that she would have to work on a divide, a plan to assuage Malfoy of his conviction that he needed to care for her and her baby, but it wasn't going to happen that morning. She was grateful to Gimyn for making sure she had her potions, snacks, and meals for her workday. He saw her off with a happy wave of his too large hand as he bustled about her kitchen.

Hermione’s new clothes were much more comfortable and, while mostly hidden beneath her robes, she enjoyed the soft fabric and stretchy material. She made her way down the stairs and into the Ministry, going at a slower pace than she would have in the past in an effort to not become too winded. The workday was much like any other and the week passed by much the same. Boring was good sometimes, Hermione thought to herself. She went to work, came home, chatted with Gimyn while she ate dinner, then worked on the spellwork for the ceiling. She had nearly figured it out, there was just one piece missing. It seemed no matter how hard she tried to suss out the missing piece it eluded her.

Thursday night she took a break from it and decided to go back to the journals that were still on loan from Malfoy. His notes were thorough but she wanted to read the women's own words. It seemed that the mother of Lucius the first has been successful with her blood curse that would cause all children to be male and the line continued with single male heirs for each successive generation. Brutus’ mother had struggled with her pregnancy. Morning sickness had plagued her through her first and part of her second trimester. Swelling and discomfort were also challenges during the third trimester of her pregnancy. She wrote of the weeks she had been relegated to bed rest after she had begun bleeding late in the pregnancy. The birth of Brutus had rendered her infertile after nearly killing her.

Reading the brutal accounts of the woman's struggle to carry her child to term and give birth to him Hermione found herself heaving in her bathroom, her dinner lost. She couldn't imagine the emotions the woman faced, the words on the page were so dry and matter of fact. Hermione found herself crying as she heaved. When her stomach finally calmed she threw herself into her bed and let exhaustion take her.

Her dreams were more nightmares as the fears of her pregnancy surfaced. What if she couldn't do this alone? What if she had to go on bed rest? What if she couldn't have any other children after this? Who would take care of her baby if something happened to her?

Friday morning she scrawled a quick note to Malfoy requesting that they meet. She handed the note to Gimyn at breakfast, asking him to deliver it for her.

“Yes, Miss, Gimyn will deliver this today! Master Malfoy has been very busy. He has not been home all week. He will be home today though and Gimyn will give him Miss Granger’s note.”

The elf had come out of his shell quite a bit and now spoke nearly non-stop. Hermione didn't mind, she enjoyed the company of her small companion, even if the weight of having to eventually turn him away hung over her. Hermione picked up the lunch that Gimyn had packed and made her way to the stairs to head to work.

Another boring day at the Ministry was a good one. Now that the newness of her pregnancy had worn off everything had gone back to normal outside of her regularly scheduled nausea potions. She hadn't been able to eat her snacks or lunch that day. Hermione noted that her nausea was returning before her next scheduled nausea potion dose but she imagined her upset stomach was likely more due to waiting to hear back from Malfoy than due to anything else.

She needed to speak with him. She had started a parchment with the list of things she wanted to ask. She needed to be sure that a future for her child would be secured in case anything ever happened to her. She knew she could always count on Harry and Ginny to take her baby in if something happened to her. She just felt this need to talk it over with Malfoy first. Almost a first right of refusal. If he wanted nothing to do with her and the baby that was just fine, it was nothing less than she had initially anticipated. Now though, that he had shown interest in her baby, she felt she had to at least ask.

Her workday ended and she tucked her parchment of questions into her bag before making her way to the elevator and then out of the Ministry. She walked to her flat, a bit more brisk than typical in her easily winded state. Mounting the stairs she didn't wait to catch her breath at the landings and instead pressed on, hoping that Gimyn would have a response from Malfoy when she arrived.

By the time she pushed the door to her flat open she knew she had made a mistake. Her breath sawed out of her lungs from the exertion and black spots crowded the edge of her vision. She had a glimpse of blond hair exiting the nursery before everything went black.

…

Hermione slowly regained consciousness. It trickled into her awareness like waking from a dream that wasn't quite ready to let go. Her vision was hazy causing her to blink several times to clear it. She was in a room she didn't recognize, the wood was dark on the posts of the bed she was laying on. The walls were a dark green that matched the bedding. When she moved her head there was sudden movement beside her. Malfoy sat next to the bed. Elbows resting on his knees, fingers propping his chin up. Lines of strain bracketed his mouth as he looked at her.

Closer to her head, to the side of the bed, she saw Astoria approach and bend over her. “See Draco, she is just fine, like I said.”

A grumble came from Malfoy, he didn't sound convinced.

“How are you feeling Hermione?” Astoria asked as she continued to assess her.

“A little fuzzy, honestly. What happened?”

“Oh, I imagine the combination of not eating enough today and running up the stairs to your flat caused you to have a bout of low blood sugar. Long story short, you fainted. You gave Draco here quite a fright.”

Hermione’s gaze shot from Astoria to Malfoy. “What? A fright?”

Malfoy’s hands came up to scrub at his face, “Yes a fright! One minute I'm cleaning up the painting mess I left and the next I see you falling through the front door in a dead faint. I was terrified Granger. I had no idea what had happened to you.” His voice rose as he spoke prompting Astoria to place her hand on his shoulder.

“It was just a bit of a fright. She is fine,” Astoria turned to meet Hermione’s gaze, “You and the baby are just fine. I do need to talk to you about eating though. Draco says you have been taking the nausea potions to manage the worst of the symptoms. How long have you been taking them for?”

“Um, a few weeks?” Hermione managed, her mouth still felt like cotton.

“They probably have been less effective recently?”

“I've been getting nauseated even with the potions. I thought it was just because of stress and worry.”

Astoria grimaced. “Unfortunately, with time, the potion becomes less effective. You develop an immunity of sorts after taking it so often for so long. You have a few weeks left before it should subside all together but in the meantime you need to make sure you are snacking throughout the day to make sure your blood sugar stays where it needs to be. How are your other symptoms?”

“Other symptoms? Um, I'm tired and am having trouble sleeping. I am having really intense dreams, nightmares really. I cry, a lot, and get angry really easily. All of those things are normal though.” Hermione responded.

“Yes, those are all normal and very expected. I have you down for a twelve week checkup in about a week. Would you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat again before I go? I think it would sooth Draco at least to hear that the baby is okay.”

Hermione nodded at Astoria, her eyes darting to Malfoy as Astoria waved her wand and a fast thumping and whooshing sound filled the room.

“See? Nothing to worry about. This little one is doing just fine. I have a feeling they are going to give their mum a run for her money though.” Astoria gave Hermione a sweet smile and a wink. “Alright you two, I'm off. Have a great weekend.” With that Astoria walked from the room.

Malfoy made no move to follow. He merely scooted to the edge of his chair and rested his elbows against the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “I'm sorry Granger.”

“What? What are you sorry for?” Hermione's voice was tired. Today has been full of too much excitement she thought.

“I know you said you didn't want to come here. I just didn't know what to do. You fainted and I needed to get you to a place where Astoria could come to see you. The wards I placed on your flat wouldn't allow her in. This was the only thing I could think of.”

A sudden stillness overcame Hermione. “Where are we Malfoy?” The shuttering of Hermione’s lashes the only movement from her.

“It was the only thing I could think to do Granger. I just needed to make sure you both were okay.”

“Where are we?” Hermione's voice shook with anger or terror she wasn't sure.

“We are in my bedroom, at the Manor.” Malfoy finally answered, pulling his head from his hands to look her in the eye. His grey eyes were clouded with worry, the brackets around his mouth deeper.

 

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to call the anger and terror coursing through her, causing her body to shake with it. She tried to be logical, understanding even, but she still felt tears coarse down her cheeks. “I would like to go home now Malfoy, please.” She was proud of the steadiness of her voice as she spoke.

“Yes, I'll take you home.”

Before Hermione could respond further Malfoy had scooped her up into his arms and, with a crack, apparated out of his home and into her entryway. He carried her to the couch and set her down gently, pulling the blanket from the back to drape across her legs. As he tucked the blanket around her he called for Gimyn, asking him to bring ginger tea and a small snack for her.

“Malfoy, I'm not made of glass. I'm okay.”

“You fainted, Hermione! Right in front of me and I was too far away to catch you. What could have happened?” His gaze dropped to her belly where the slightest curve was beginning to show between the lapels of her wizarding robes.

Hermione moved her hand instinctively to cover that small mound protectively. “We’re fine. I promise to be more careful. We are fine though.” Her tone was soothing, trying to calm the agitation in him.

Just then Gimyn appeared with a tray with ginger tea and digestive biscuits for Hermione. “Yous had Gimyn quite scared Miss. Is there anything Gimyn can get Miss?”

“No Gimyn, I'm fine.” Hermione was beginning to feel like a broken record, repeating the same thing over and over. “Malfoy, thank you for looking out for me. I know you wouldn't have taken me there unless it was an emergency. Thank you for calling Astoria to check on me.”

Malfoy didn't respond, only nodded woodenly.

“I think we should shelve the reason I asked you to come over. I think we both need some rest tonight.”

Malfoy nodded again. “Can I stay for a while please? I, I just need to assure myself you are okay.”

Hermione’s brows furrowed in consternation. “Um, I guess that is okay. For a while.”

After long moments of awkward silence Hermione switched the TV on with a wave of her wand, settling on a mindless game show to fill the silence. Malfoy seemed distracted and intrigued by the show, Hermione took that as a win. Maybe it would help him calm down after the evening's events.

It was late when Hermione woke, still laying on the couch with her feet on Malfoy’s lap, his head twisted at what must have been an uncomfortable angle as he slept on the couch next to her. Hermione carefully pulled her feet from his lap and made her way to the bathroom, the pressure on her bladder constant. When she exited the bathroom she grabbed a pillow from her bed and took it to the couch. A quiet whisper-yell for Gimyn and the little elf appeared, somewhat bleary eyed and not in his usual trousers and button down.

“I'm so sorry Gimyn. Could you help me lay him down? I promise to let you sleep in tomorrow.”

“Oh no Miss. Gimyn is always happy to help.” With a quick snap of his fingers the small elf magically situated Malfoy into a laying position on the couch, the pillow under his head and the blanket spread across him.

“Thank you Gimyn. Good night.”

“Good night Miss.”

Before Hermione could turn to head to her bedroom the little elf had disappeared, hopefully back to his bed. Hermione made her way to her own and promptly fell asleep once tucked between her sheets.

Chapter 21

Summary:

Living for comments. ❤️ Thank you all!

Hermione woke Saturday morning feeling well for the first time in ages. She had actually slept well without nightmares or vivid dreams to disturb her. She took a few moments to lay there, enjoying the warmth of her blankets and the softness of her pillows and mattress before she sat bolt upright, recalling that Malfoy was on her couch.

She threw the blanket from her legs and quietly crept down the hall, unsure if he would be awake or not yet. When she made it to the living room she saw the blanket folded and placed on the back of the couch and a note left on the pillow Malfoy had used.

 

Granger,

Thank you for allowing me to stay last night. I am sorry for falling asleep. Please send word with Gimyn when you would like to talk.

-Malfoy

 

Hermione noted that the customary smoothness of his handwriting was slightly stunted from writing with a Muggle pen rather than a quill. That observation alone caused her to smile. She couldn't quite figure Malfoy out. He seemed so worried for her, but disinterested at the same time. Perhaps it was solely because of the baby that he was concerned for her well-being. That must be it, she thought, he was simply trying to ensure the survival of his offspring. That, more than anything, convinced Hermione of what she needed to do. She would see if he was available tonight to discuss plans for if something was to happen to her.

Gimyn appeared shortly after Hermione had gotten dressed for the day. His bowtie slightly crooked. “Gimyn has breakfast for Miss Granger. Gimyn also has a new potion for Miss Granger. Master Malfoy says this will help.”

Hermione took the vial from Gimyn’s outstretched hand. It looked like the nausea potions she had been taking. Upon pulling the cork and sniffing the contents she noted that it had a much stronger smell. Throwing it back she noted that it tasted much stronger too. With a shrug she went to the kitchen, hopefully it would help. She made a mental note to thank Malfoy this evening for his thoughtfulness.

Breakfast was unhurried as she chatted with Gimyn. She apologized for the late night call, to which Gimyn refused to accept.

“Gimyn is happy to help Miss. Always happy to see Master Malfoy sleeping.”

Hermione’s brows furrowed. “Does Malfoy not sleep well?”

“Oh no’es Miss. Master Malfoy does not sleep much at all. Sometimes, when Master Malfoy does, he screams. We's can hear them all the way down in Gimyn’s rooms with the other elves.”

“That’s awful.” Hermione felt tears prick at her eyes. “I'm sorry Gimyn, I shouldn't ask such things.”

Hermione gave her head a small shake and tried to change her thoughts to something more positive. She hadn't gone into the nursery in almost a week and the furniture she had selected should be delivered on Monday. That reminded her.

“Gimyn, on Monday I am expecting several deliveries. They should bring them up to the door. Could you appear as me to the muggles and accept the deliveries? If they could put the boxes in the nursery that would be quite helpful.”

“Miss Granger wants Gimyn to appear as you?”

“Just for a moment when the delivery people are here. Is that something you can do?”

“Why yes Miss Granger, but house elves is not supposed to impersonate any of those they serve.”

“Oh, well, um, could you let me know when they are here and I could come home for it I guess. I'll just take it as my lunch break”

“No, no! Miss Granger needs to eat during her lunch break. Gimyn can do it. Gimyn will take care of this for Miss Granger.” He nodded his head so aggressively that his ears flopped against his head and face.

“Thank you Gimyn. I have one more thing to ask if you.”

“Anything Miss!”

“Could you ask Malfoy if he is available to speak this evening?”

“Of course Miss Granger.” With a soft pop Gimyn disappeared from the kitchen.

Hermione finished her tea and rinsed her cup in the sink. Her cup and saucer were the only things Gimyn hadn't already whisked away and cleaned. She made her way to the nursery, looking around at the freshly painted walls. The box of books still sat in the corner, she was excited about finally being able to put them on the shelves. To be able to get the room ready for her little one. Her hand moved down to the small mound of her belly, caressing the bump where her child grew.

Hermione wasn't sure how much time had passed while she stood there and daydreamed of what being a mother would be like. Before too long Gimyn appeared again, wringing his hands.

“Gimyn is sorry Miss. Master Malfoy cannot sees yous tonight. Master Malfoy says he already has plans.” He shrunk in on himself, as if expecting a blow.

Hermione crouched down to his level, “it's okay Gimyn.” She gave him a small smile. “I really don't want you to be afraid of me Gimyn. I promise I will never hurt you. Okay?”

Gimyn nodded, his eyes overlarge and looking at her as if she hung the moon. “Master Malfoy asks if Miss Granger can meet with him tomorrow at 11 am?”

“That would be fine Gimyn.” Hermione looked around the room again and decided she wanted to get a few more things for the room. “I'm going to be out for most of the day today. I will be home for dinner though. Will I see you this evening?”

“Of course Miss! Gimyn will be here for Miss Granger.” He nodded again vigorously.

“Thank you Gimyn, why don't you get some rest. I'll see you later.”

Hermione made her way down the hall, slipping into her shoes and grabbing her bag before she left her flat. She made her way to a local thrift store to look through the framed art, her goal to find something for the walls in the nursery. The first shop she went to didn't have anything she particularly liked, the second shop was much of the same. It wasn't until she was on her way to a third that a window display caught her eye. The shop seemed devoted to all things pink. From the street she could see a watercolor painting of a little girl in a ballerina costume, much like the ones she had worn as a child. She knew she had to have this for the nursery, a gut knowing that it was right. She made her way around the shop before making her purchase, enchanted by the small hairbows and clips. Her hand dropped to her belly again, palming the swell there. Would the blood curse affect her? She thought it only affected those who went through binding ceremonies with Malfoy men, their blood added to the wards of the estate. If this child was a boy she could always have a second and hope for a girl. Two children seemed a good number. They would always have each other, never be alone like she was without her parents. Even with her chosen family the solitude bothered her sometimes. Her thoughts swirled as she made her purchase and continued on to the last thrift shop in walking distance of her flat. Maybe she would find something there.

Hermione was happy with the last shop, finding two additional prints for the nursery, one with numbers and letters on blocks, the other with a brilliant rising sun over a green valley, the sky and scenery in a host of pastel shades. Happy with her purchases she made her way back towards her flat, stopping at a cafe on the way for a late lunch. She didn't have any extra nausea potions on her but hoped that the extra strength dose from that morning would be sufficient. She ordered a soup and half sandwich and made her way to her seat. While she waited for her food she watched our the front window. An array of people walked past, young and old, some in fine clothing and others not. She was so wrapped up in watching the foot traffic she was surprised when her food arrived. She began eating her soup mindlessly, eyes still trained on the people walking by. She reached for her sandwich, taking one bite before her stomach roiled and she had to rush from her seat and into the bathroom. She had instinctively grabbed her bag and purchases, the only good thing, she thought, as she retched into the public toilet and tried to keep her face as far away from the seat as possible.

After a time, once the heaving ebbed and she was able to clean herself up, Hermione quickly exited the cafe and continued making her way to her flat. She was exhausted and could think of nothing better than falling into her bed.

Chapter 22

Notes:

The next few chapters are going to be a bit clifty. Hang on for the ride. I'll work to update daily so you aren't left hanging for long. ❤️

CW: Masturbation, Pureblood rhetoric, fear, fatigue, heartbreak

Sleep was hard to come by again. A combination of anxiety about her meeting with Malfoy, and dread that it would go poorly, settled like an elephant on her chest. She decided she would have to ask Malfoy if his Potions Mastery covered potions safe to take during pregnancy, or ask for a way to contact Astoria directly herself. A calming drought would be quite nice right about now, she thought.

Before the pregnancy, and the ever present nausea she had been dealing with, she would have tried masturbating to help her sleep. While the last few weeks had wiped all desire from her mind and body, she wondered if it would help. Obviously there would be no potential harm to the baby, unlike with potions or Muggle sleep aids. Hermione rolled over to look in her bedside drawer, pulled out the small finger vibe and switched it on. The batteries were still good, somewhat surprising since it hasn't been charged since the night of her insemination and the marathon of masturbation. A self satisfied look crossed her face. This might work, she thought to herself.

Hermione rolled back over onto her back, still under the covers but propped up gently by her pillows. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, trying to clear the anxious thoughts from her mind and replace them with a fantasy. It has been a long time since she had had a bed partner, and never one she would have claimed to be proficient. Ron had been her first and, with the inexperience of youth, neither would have been considered good, let alone mind blowing. She had had a rather delicious one night stand with an older wizard that had insisted she call him Daddy, and while that had been a lovely foray into something rather kinky, his erectile dysfunction had proven rather unfortunate. Shaking her head she tried again to recenter her thoughts.

Clearing her mind she touched herself. Gently shaping her breasts with her hands, feeling their increasing softness and weight. She brushed her fingers over the fabric of her sleep shirt, gently grazing her sensitive nipples. They were more sensitive than before her pregnancy, almost painfully so. Reaching down beneath her shirt she snaked her hand up her belly to circle her areola, the tip of her breast puckering into a tight peak as she drew her fingers closer to it. With her other hand she petted herself over her knickers, pressing down over her clit and grinding into her hand.

She groped her own breast, thumbing over her nipple now, the slight pain of overstimulation causing her cunt to clench until it became too much and she instead kneaded the swollen flesh. After a few moments she pushed her knickers from her hips and wriggled out of them until they were lost under the covers near the foot of the bed. Hermione pulled her knees up, spreading her feet apart as she flipped on the small vibe and began circling around her clit, gathering her own wetness with each pass to glide up the side of her clit, over the hood, and back down the other side in a slow, pervasive motion. While doing so she imagined another hand on her flesh, whispering in her ear admiration of how sensitive she was, how wet. The hand at her breast became his, the finger that pressed just above her clit to the rigid tissue there was his, sliding back and forth, coaxing her to orgasm. Her fantasy man spoke to her, the voice in her head all too familiar.

“Are you going to come for me Angel? If you come for me just touching your clit I'm going to fuck you with my fingers, make you come again for me. Come so hard.”

The pace of her fingers surrounding her clit quickened. The vibe on her middle finger while her pointer and ring finger jacked either side of her clit, the vibrations passed through all three of them.

“Fuck, I'm going to come.” Hermione said out loud, she had always been an outspoken lover.

Her fantasy continued, “Come for me Angel, I want to hear you.”

Hermione cried out, quickly jerking her hand away from her cunt, suddenly oversensitive. She panted while she lay there, coming down from the explosive orgasm she had just given herself. A small smile played on her lips. She shakily removed the vibe from her hand, laying it on a tissue on the nightstand, resigning herself to deal with it in the morning. Her fatigue hit her like a force and she quickly lost herself to sleep.

She slept well for the first night in what felt like ages. Unfortunately she didn't sleep long. Just before dawn she was awake, anxiety about her meeting with Malfoy coiled in her stomach and caused her chest to ache.

Her thoughts circled. The ball, a nameless witch in his arms, one that his family would find suitable, one that would give him heirs who he would dote on and care for. Was his concern for the child she carried just a fad, just a passing infatuation? If something happened to her, if he ended up with custody of her child, would they be treated well. Her mind whirled with stipulations she would want contractually agreed to in regards to the care of her child if something were to happen to her. Even with those thoughts she kept spinning back to Malfoy, on a dancefloor with a beautiful witch in his arms. The feeling in her belly, one she didn't want to identify, brought a grimace to her face.

After nearly an hour of mulling, enough time that the sun had risen, she pulled herself from her bed. She would do more research on the ceiling, see if she could find the missing piece to her research. She situated herself in front of her coffee table in the living room, minutes later Gimyn appeared with ginger tea for her and a nausea potion.

“Is Miss Granger wanting breakfast?”

“No, thank you Gimyn. I don't think I could keep anything down right now.”

“Is the potions not helping Miss?” Gimyn had a worried look, as if he himself had committed an offense.

“No Gimyn, the potions are fine. I am just anxious about my meeting today.”

“Miss Granger’s meeting with Master Malfoy?”

“Yes Gimyn, that meeting,” Hermione's response was accompanied by a wry smile.

“Not to worry Miss. Master Malfoy has been in good spirits since the ball. Very busy and happy. Gimyn is happy to fix lunch for you both today.”

Hermione chewed at her lower lip, her worries, and that feeling in her belly from earlier coming back with gusto. “Thank you Gimyn.” Hermione did feel a bit bad about how she had just dismissed the elf, having nothing more to add to the conversation. Gimyn left for the kitchen, seemingly placing a refilling and warming charm on her tea before he went. Hermione tried to pour herself into her studying again, looking for a solution was a helpful distraction.

A time later the now familiar crack of Malfoy apparating into her apartment sounded. He came into the living room from the entryway, giving a nod to Hermione when he saw her sitting on the floor behind the coffee table.

“Granger.”

“Malfoy,” Hermione returned his nod, uncertain of how to begin she let silence fill the room.

After allowing the silence to linger perhaps too long Malfoy spoke, “there was something you wanted to talk about?”

“Um, yes, there was.” Hermione reached back to gasp the front of the couch and lever herself up onto the cushions. She scooted back into the corner and motioned for Malfoy to sit. He complied, placing himself in the opposite corner, turned partially to see her better. “I wanted to speak with you about, potentialities, and discuss plans in case something should happen. To me, that is.”

One of Malfoy’s platinum brows lifted as his eyes bore into hers. He made a small gesture with his hand for her to continue.

“I know that I've said all along that this is my child and I fully plan to care for them on my own. That hasn't changed. I do think that I, we, should discuss plans for in case something were to happen to me.”

Malfoy's brows furrowed as she spoke. “You've finished the journals then?”

It was Hermione’s turn to furrow her brows. “No, not yet.”

Malfoy’s lips pressed into a line. “Okay.” He seemed to weigh his words before speaking. “I think it is, very responsible, to plan for all eventualities. How may I help?”

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out. “What I wanted to speak with you about was in regards to custody and care of my child in case something were to happen to me. I know between the Weasleys and Harry that they would be cared for, but, l wanted to ask you if you would be interested, since you are the…father.” Hermione stuttered on the work father. She hadn't used that word yet and verbalizing it came with many complex emotions.

Malfoy's face took a stone edge. “You think I would allow someone else to raise Our child? My child? Especially if anything ever happened to you? What kind of man do you think I am Granger? That I would abandon my own flesh and blood?” Malfoy stood and began pacing, finally pausing on front of her to turn and look her in the eye. “Do you truly think so low of me?”

“No, I…” before Hermione could continue Malfoy cut in.

“No, you didn't think Granger. What in Salazar’s name would give you the impression that I am not interested?” His eyes flared with fire at Hermione.

Hermione’s ire grew. “None of this was your choice Malfoy. I don't expect you to clean up messes that you aren't responsible for.”

“Messes?” Malfoy turned back from his resumed pacing. “Did you just refer to my child, the next Malfoy and Black Heir, as ‘messes’?” Malfoy’s voice rose until it was a shout by the last word.

Hermione was on her feet now, eyes blazing and hands clenched at her sides. “You may not think of them that way, but there is no promise your future wife won't. How much would your sacred bloodlines balk at the possibility of a half breed child in their midst?”

Malfoy’s face went white, his knuckles cracked as he clenched them to his side and with a sudden crack he was gone. Hermione stood there panting, seething, angry tears streaming down her face as she fought to catch her breath.

Hermione stormed to her room, tears flowing down her cheeks as she punched her pillow until she finally collapsed onto her bed. She was so angry, but also felt so hollow. She sobbed herself to sleep and woke up late in the afternoon, a headache pounded behind her eyes and her face felt swollen. She clumsily pulled herself from the bed and made her way to the bathroom to press cold compresses to her face hoping for relief. Long moments later she exited the bathroom, making her way to the kitchen. Her stomach roiled at the idea of food but she knew she needed water. Dehydration would only make her head ache worse.

She filled a glass from the sink, throwing back the contents and refilling it again. Nausea hit her stomach at the same time the water did but she finished the second glass before setting the glass down. She made her way to the living room and collapsed down onto the couch. Gimyn appeared before her.

“Miss, may Gimyn get you dinner?”

Hermione looked at the small elf, fresh tears streaming down her face. “No Gimyn. Thank you for all of your help. You need to go home now.”

Gimyn looked at her somewhat quizzically, “Okay Miss, Gimyn sees you in the morning.”

“No Gimyn,” Hermione’s voice cracked. “I think it is best that you not come back. Please, go back home. Thank you for everything.”

Hermione looked away, afraid to see his lip quiver or tears in his overlarge eyes. A moment later he disappeared and Hermione found herself awash in another round of sobs. Uncontrollable body wracking sobs poured from her chest until she lay, a swollen, red, congested lump on her side on the couch.

Chapter 23

Hermione got herself up the next morning and did her best to charm and heal to fix the blotchy swollen mess that was her face. She had two items on her very short list of personal priorities before she would commit herself to working for the remainder of the day. The first was to find Astoria’s contact information. The second, was to cancel her appointment with Healer McMillon. After her last appointment she had come to the realization that Healer McMillon was not someone she would like to continue seeing. Between the mix up in the first place, and the seeming carelessness at suffering because treatment was inconvenient, Hermione was no longer interested in being her patient.

Hermione made her way to the Ministry, grabbing a handful of nuts from her cupboard and sorely missing Gimyn on the way. Once there she went on an excursion to the department that regulated licenses and asked for Astoria’s information. About 15 minutes later Hermione was on her way to her office to pen her notice to Healer McMillon, and pen a note to Astoria to confirm the date, time, and location of their meeting as well as a prescription and source for the extra strength nausea potions. She could not, would not, rely on Malfoy any longer.

Once those two personal items were complete Hermione threw herself into her work for the day. Without realizing it she worked well through lunch and found her stomach rebelling alongside her head. Looking at the clock she realized it was nearly four in the afternoon and she hadn't eaten or drank anything since she arrived at the ministry around 7:30 that morning. Reaching into her lower drawer on her desk she grabbed a stale granola bar she had kept in case of emergencies and, though her stomach protested, she forced herself to eat at least two bites. She hoped it would help with the dizziness and nausea, at least a little.

Hermione went back to the proposal she was reviewing in an attempt to distract herself. It worked for a few moments before she had to shove back from her desk and snatch her wastebasket from the floor, retching into it while she clutched it against her chest. She waited until the heaving had abated before casting a quick scourgify on the wastebasket and the inside of her mouth. By the time she felt well enough to stand the workday had come to an end. She hadn't seen a return note from Astoria yet that day. Hermione hoped that she would have one the next day. She really needed a new source for the nausea potions if she was going to try to eat.

On the way home she stopped into the grocery. She remembered doing this nearly every day, why did it feel so exhausting now to go about the mundane chores of life. Hermione grabbed items to make a quick dinner, uncertain of what exactly was in her fridge. Making her way back to her flat she took her time. Taking the steps one flight at a time and being mindful of her breaths as she slowly made it to her flat and began to prepare her dinner.

She found a few of the regular nausea potions in one of the cabinets in the kitchen and took one. She knew she needed to eat today. She would ration them until she heard back from Astoria.

After finishing dinner and cleaning up the kitchen Hermione was exhausted. She fell quickly into bed, only to be further exhausted by her nightmares. Running and being chased, being held down and cut into, the cruciatus. She woke gasping for breath with the echoes of her screams around her.

The next morning started much like the one before. Heading to the Ministry, a quick and easy snack for breakfast. Hermione did send an owl off to Ginny with a list of questions relating to pregnancy, side effects, and symptoms. Surely she would be a good resource given she had had two children of her own.

At lunch Hermione went out to the desk of her assistant. “Have you received any owls or letters from Astoria Greengrass?”

“What do you want with her?” The girl sounded disgusted at the mention of the Healer’s name.

“I sent her a message and I have been waiting on a response.”

“Yes, I know. I go through all of your correspondence. I just don't understand why you would want to see her. Healer McMillon worked with us and she is a great Healer.” The girl spoke with a heavy dose of disdain in her voice.

Hermione saw red. How dare this girl, who was still new, consider herself worthy, or even capable, of having an opinion about who Hermione saw as a Healer. As far as Hermione was concerned this was strike two against the girl, the next one and Hermione would be looking for a replacement, again. It wasn't that Hermione was unreasonable or mean, usually at least, she just expected assistance to actually assist her, stay out of the office gossip, and have more ambition in the workplace than just looking for a husband. It was apparently hard to find someone who fit that criteria.

With a roll of her eyes the girl spoke again. “Here, she responded, but you should probably read the paper first. I don't think you will want to see her once you see the Death Eater scum she's been associating with.”

Hermione snatched the paper and the note from the girl. “Get. Out.”

“What?” The girl had the audacity to look shocked.

“You heard me. Get out. Pack your things and go.” With that Hermione turned on her heel and made her way back to her office. Good riddance, she thought, she wasn't a good fit anyway.

Hermione sat at her desk, the Prophet in her hands as she reviewed the headline on the first page, courtesy of Skeeter, the twat.

THE MOST ELIGIBLE PUREBLOOD BACHELOR FINALLY TAKEN?

Right below there was a picture of Malfoy, standing to the side and slightly behind Astoria, his hand on her back as he guided her along.
Hermione skimmed the article, seeing reference to the ball that had been held at Malfoy Manor, including a comment from an ‘inside source’ who claimed that Astoria and Malfoy had spent nearly the entire evening together.

Hermione read the article twice before putting the paper down. A deluge of emotions bubbled within her. So many she struggled to identify each and gave up trying to do so. She just sat and stared at the wall, willing her stomach and emotions to calm. Long minutes later she reached for Astoria’s letter. It contained her prescription, directions to an apothecary that Astoria trusted, as well as her next appointment information.

Hermione tucked the response into her bag and made plans to go to the apothecary after work. She just had to get through the next few hours. No less than twenty minutes later Padma Patil came into her office after softly knocking on the door. She made herself comfortable in the chair across from Hermione’s desk that spoke of familiarity with both Hermione, and the situation.

“What did this one do this time?” Padma jerked her thumb in the direction of her nos vacant assistant’s desk.

“I gave her three chances. It was well deserved.” Hermione soothed, not answering the question.

“And what did she do?” Padma wouldn't drop it, Hermione knew this already.

With pursed lips Hermione responded, ticking the items off on her fingers as she spoke. “She spread rumors across the Ministry that I was pregnant. She withheld my personal correspondence and used discriminatory language when addressing an individual.

Padma’s head wiggled back and forth as she nodded. “Okay, that seems fair.”

Hermione all but growled. “I'm always fair!”

“No, you're not, but that is why you have me to watch your back.” Padma gave her a quick wink. “I guess I'll see if I can find another willing victim for you.” With that Padma stood fluidly and exited the room.

Hermione resigned herself to the increased workload until a replacement could be found. She went out to the desk occupied by her former assistant and, with a wave of her wand, sent the paperwork and forms to her own desk. She resigned herself to working late until a replacement was found.

Throwing herself into her work, Hermione was shocked to find that it was nearly 7:30 pm. She stood from her chair, stretching her neck, back, and shoulders. She had been so focused she hadn't even realized she had missed dinner. Quickly sorting her desk into an in progress pile and a to do pile before she slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way through the empty halls to the similarly unoccupied streets outside.

She walked briskly through Muggle London towards her flat. The hair at the back of her neck bristled and she moved faster, not liking the sensation. She surreptitiously moved her hand into the pocket of her robes, transfigured to look like an overlarge coat and wrapped her fingers around her wand. She made it to her flat, passing the grocer on the way home but not stopping. She raced up the steps, rushed into her flat and slammed the door behind her, leaning against it as her breath sawed in and out of her lungs while she did her best not to faint.

She skipped dinner that night, between her nausea and exhaustion she couldn't find the energy to make food, let alone eat it. Tumbling straight into bed she hoped she would sleep well. Unfortunately another night of vivid nightmares plagued her. Running away from something but not knowing what, only knowing that she wouldn't be able to outrun it.

Hermione woke the next day and made her way into work. She owled the apothecary Astoria suggested, sending the note from Astoria with the orders, and indicated she would come after work the next day to pick up the potions. Hermione knew it would likely take that long for the potions to be ready. She was shocked to find that they had responded before the end of the day informing her that they had the potions in stock and would be able to fulfill the request if she could come by after 6pm. Hermione set her wand to alert her at 5:45 so she would be there on time, not wanting to go another day with the pervasive nausea that she was enduring.

Hermione found herself skipping lunch, the mere thought of food causing her to heave even with the normal nausea potion she had found in her flat. She drank ginger tea again, not able to stomach even the digestive biscuits now. She left her office at 5:50 that day, apparating to the Leaky Cauldron and making her way to the apothecary on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. She noted the name of the shop, M.B. Apothecary, as she stepped inside.

She quickly completed her purchase. The shop assistant a kindly older man who checked to see if she needed anything else before she left. She slipped the two week supply of vials into her purse and hoped that the morning sickness would pass by the time she had taken the last one. Grabbing one from the bag she made her way to one of the restaurants to try to eat dinner, swallowing one of the potions she had just purchased as she walked.

She felt eyes on her, normal honestly since she was the Junior Minister. She did still like to make appearances throughout Wizarding London. Reassured that she still had a place in the larger Wizarding world. She placed her order and sipped at the water in front of her. She realized it had been a few days since she had truly been able to keep anything down again and she knew it was likely that she was looking rather haggard because of it.

She pulled a report from her bag while she waited. Pulling a pen from her bag as well to annotate the margins. Lost in her work she was oblivious to the goings on around her while she waited. Trusting in the crowd to alert her if anything of concern occured.

Finally, her food arrived. She had ordered soup and bread, thinking that it would be soothing to her stomach after having been empty for so long. She paced herself by continuing to work as she ate, finding her bowl empty by surprise while she was focused on the page in front of her.

She quickly settled her bill and tucked her work back into her bag. The hair on the back of her neck tingled as she walked towards the Leaky Cauldron to re-enter Muggle London. After several days of this she wondered if the heightened sense of awareness was due to the hormones rather than true intuition.

Hurrying back to her flat she was still on edge by the time she arrived. Hanging her dress robes and sliding out of her stretchy clothing she decided she would floo call Ginny to ask about her experience. Leaning before her floo Ginny connected nearly instantaneously.

“Hey Ginny, I had a few questions. Do you have a bit?”

“Yes! Of course!” Ginny turned, yelling at Harry in the background to watch the kids. “I'll be through the floo in just a minute.”

“Thanks Gin!” Hermione stood, stiff and a bit lightheaded with the sudden change of position. She grabbed the mantle to steady herself before making her way to the kitchen to put a kettle on for tea. Damn, she missed coffee. The thought was quick, almost like a craving, but one she wouldn't allow herself to have. Sleep was hard enough to come by without the caffeine.

True to her word, Ginny arrived minutes later, a thick book and a plate piled with chocolate chip biscuits. Hermione’s mouth watered at the sight. Not only had food been a challenge, she hadn't allowed herself something so indulgent in nearly 12 weeks.

“Oh yum.” Hermione said without realizing she had spoken.

Ginny’s grin grew wide across her face. “I knew you would need some of these!” Ginny placed the plate on the coffee table, careful to push the books and papers to the side. Next she set down the book and then moved to help Hermione bring the tray in from the kitchen.

Once settled Ginny turned to Hermione. “Alright ‘Mione what's going on?”

Once Hermione had swallowed the bite of biscuit in her mouth she began, “I keep feeling like something is going to happen, or like something is following me. I also keep having nightmares. It's almost like paranoia. Have you experienced that?”

Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, I think I can say I had something similar. Of course, with Harry home he was a bit like a security blanket. He was always there when I would get worried. I think it is normal though. Just hormones going all haywire. How is the morning sickness going? I know the last time we talked it was rather awful.”

“Erg!” Hermione brought her hand to her forehead, rubbing it harshly down her face. “It is the absolute worst! I even had to switch to a more powerful nausea potion to be able to keep anything down. I don't know how you've done it twice Ginny.”

“It wasn't as bad for me, Hermione. I've talked to Mum some and I think part of it is because of how strong you are. The other part is that the Prewitt witches are just made different. We are made to have a gaggle of kids and our bodies don't give us as much trouble as some others. I actually thought it was kind of surprising that you've been having such a hard time since you were from a Muggle family, but you are a very strong witch. Though I wouldn't think that the clinic would have…um….samples from warlocks that were so strong. I would have thought they would go with warlocks who are only moderately gifted since magical pregnancies can be so hard anyway.”

Hermione’s mouth pressed into a line. “Well, the clinic, I've discovered, leaves much to be desired.”

Concern crossed Ginny’s face. “Are you not going to go back? Have you found another healer or midwife? Mine has been great, though he is as old as dirt. He delivered me and my brothers. When he delivered Albus I thought he may fall over catching him.” Ginny let out a guffaw at her own joke.

“No thank you Ginny! I've already found a midwife. One who specializes in pregnancies of increased magical potential. I just, sometimes I feel really lost. I don't have a mum to ask questions of. I've got textbooks and guides, but I can only get so much from ink and paper.”

Ginny leaned forward, giving Hermione a pat on her arm and a warm smile. “I've got you ‘Mione. Any questions you have, I'm here for you.” Her smile was genuine as she leaned towards the table. “And,” she pulled the book she had brought onto the cushions between them, “I brought a book for you that helped me tremendously! Especially once my libido took off. Poor Harry couldn't keep up, I found some very helpful spells in here.” Ginny looked up from flipping pages to waggle her eyebrows at Hermione before looking back down at the book. Flipping forward she spoke to herself under her breath. “Morning sickness, you've got a handle on that it seems. You're what? Almost 12 weeks I think?”

“Yes,” Hermione responded while looking down at the pages, trying to skim them quickly upside down. “I'll be 12 weeks in two days. My follow up is on Friday.”

“Okay! So, you are coming into the second trimester. The morning sickness should be improving and might even go away entirely. What is going to hit next,” Ginny found the page she was looking for and stabbed at it with her finger, “the raging hormones!”

Hermione was quite confused by the amount of glee in Ginny’s expression.

“You've probably already been dealing with the mood swings, happy one minute, balling your eyes out the next, anger, etcetera. What you need to be gearing up for now is that you are going to be craving sex like crazy! So, here are a few spells that helped me when Harry couldn't keep up.” Ginny quickly spun the book to face Hermione.

Hermione’s right brow slid up her face as she refused to break eye contact with Ginny.

“Hey, I'm just trying to help.” Ginny held her hands up in between them in a universal sign of surrender. “Unless you have a man hidden away in your bedroom you are going to need this. See, this spell here, it conjures a fantasy of your choice. It's like masturbation on steroids! It feels like they are there even though they aren't. Now, of course, I almost always conjured the image of Harry…there was once when I conjured an image of Neville, because, like, have you seen how he grew up? But I felt just rubbish after and had to tell Harry after I cried for almost two days straight. He forgave me, don't get me wrong, he was pretty mad at first, but then he saw Neville in passing at the Ministry and agreed that he is quite fit. Anyway, there are a few in here that you can cast yourself pretty easily. Just know that they kind of get to the point of diminishing returns so to speak of you aren't also getting the real thing. You can only trick the brain so well for so long. Now,” Ginny flipped several pages, “here are some spells to help with swollen ankles, hair removal charms that are safe for pregnancy, you wouldn't want the baby to come out bald, um,” she continued to flip. “Oh, and the back of the book has some helpful spells for after you give birth. Mum says it is best to heal the Muggle way after having the babies so, it is going to be awful, but she says if you use a spell or charm to heal it can mess you up, down there. There are a few potions though in here that you can use as a compress to help that work wonders!”

Hermione felt overwhelmed. She blinked several times before finding her voice. “Thanks Gin. This is great! I don't know what I would do without you.”

“You would be miserable.” Ginny gave her a wink. “I did a quick copy of my book for you so this is all yours. I got my copy from Mum. These have been in the Prewitt family for generations, each adding little tricks or bits of advice as they can.”

A genuine smile crossed Hermione’s face. The gesture meant so much to her. Feeling connected to a matriarchal line after having lost her own mum in such a way. Her heart felt like it swelled in her chest and tears began tracking down her face. Ginny leaned forward to give Hermione a hug.

“Thank you Ginny,” Hermione whispered into her friend's hair. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Chapter 24

Notes:

CW: midwife visit, discussion of fetal.abnormalities, drunk draco

This evening Hermione would meet with Astoria. Since picking up the strengthened nausea potion she had been able to keep more down, though she noted it was still not as efficacious as when she had started taking it initially. She still had to eat small meals and about half the time those consisted of ginger tea and digestive biscuits. She had taken to keeping the water, tea, honey, and biscuits in her desk drawer instead of making the walk to the kitchen on her floor. The paranoia of being watched was ever present but, in her office, it eased.

She left work at a more reasonable hour that evening, tucking things she would work on over the weekend into her bag. Thinking about her weekend plans, work mostly, she realized how boring she was. Perhaps she would go and purchase the bedside bassinet she had been eyeing, perhaps putting that together would make for a project to keep herself busy.

Thinking about furniture had Hermione gasping. She had completely forgotten about the furniture delivery that had been scheduled for the past Monday. Speeding her steps she hurried to her flat, thinking of where the delivery paperwork was, she believed she had tucked it into the box of books in the nursery, and the calls she would need to make to inquire about the delivery.

Rushing up the stairs left her light headed again causing her to pause at the top of the steps, hand to her chest as she leaned back against the wall. She gasped at the sensation of a hard, warm, presence at her side but it quickly vanished as she moved away from the side of the steps. Searching the hallway she saw no one. Hermione shook her head at her own overactive imagination and opened the door to her flat, making her way to the nursery.

Opening the door to the nursery, she was met with a surprise. The furniture was there, assembled and pristine. Even the mattress was fitted with the sheets she had purchased. The books were lined up on the shelf, in alphabetical order. Hermione very quickly realized that tears were coursing down her cheeks, dropping to the sage rug beneath her feet.

A time later, before she could truly compose herself, a knock sounded at her door. Turning, she made her way to greet Astoria, waving her wand at the coffee table to conjure tea service since she hadn't had the presence of mind to prepare before she arrived given the surprise she had found.

“Hello Hermione,” Astoria greeted her by kissing either cheek as she crossed the threshold. “How are you feeling?”

Hermione, a bit taken aback by the familiarity Astoria greeted her with stammered, “I'm doing well, and yourself?”

“Oh, I've been fantastic.” Astoria followed as Hermione led her to the couch in the living room. “You on the otherhand, those dark circles and red eyes tell me ‘Well’ is an inaccurate answer. What is going on with Miss Granger?”

Astoria’s tone was light and cajoling. She was sweet and serene and a proper lady with how she held her teacup and saucer. Why wouldn't Malfoy want her? A green flame in Hermione’s chest that she had been trying her best to ignore grew.

“Oh, it has been a bit of a rough week. I'm overly emotional and not sleeping well. I didn't have access to the strengthened nausea potions and the new ones, thank you for helping me with that by the way, are helping but not as effective as they were before. The house elf that had been helping me is now back with his family, it has taken some getting used to, doing everything on my own again.”

Astoria nodded as she listened, a quill flew from her bag to take notes on parchment Hermione could see her name at the top of. “Have you been taking the nutritional potions?”

Hermione flushed, embarrassed. “I did, but I am afraid I'll need to pick those up from the apothecary as well. I have been taking my Muggle prenatal vitamins.”

Astoria nodded, no censure or chastisement in her approach. “Okay, I will be certain to get those for you.” With a quick wave of her hand the quill moved to two new, small pieces of parchment that flew from her bag, writing down Hermione’s name on the new pages. “Let's see what you need. I would like to make sure that we are only supplementing things you are deficient in. No sense in overdoing it.” A wave of her want and a diagnostic floated over Hermione. Astoria took a few quiet moments to review it before giving instructions to the quill as to what to write. “It looks like that morning sickness it taking quite the toll on you. I will recommend several potions to help. Please be sure to take a nausea potion first though so you make sure to keep the nutritional potions down. They can be costly and you won't want to waste them. They taste much worse coming back up I'm told.”

Hermione voiced understanding then waited for Astoria to guide her through the remainder of the exam.

“Alright, firstly, would you prefer for me to conjure and exam table here, or would you prefer to lay on your bed?”

Hermione thought for a moment, immediately realizing that she would much rather have the exam in her living room, the bedroom felt too intimate to have anyone other than a bed partner in. She was also certain she hadn't made her bed that morning. The idea of the put together, perfect Astoria seeing her unmade bed made Hermione give her head a quick shake. “In here please.”

“Certainly,” Astoria waved her wand and an examination table appeared between the coffee table and the fireplace, leaving several feet of clearance to either side. “Let me explain what this visit will entail before we get you up on the bed okay?” Another swish of her wand towards the table and soft sheets covered it, a pillow landing at the head. “First, I would like to run a diagnostic scan. This will ensure that the baby is developing properly and give us a true estimate of the due date. I will also look to ensure that the baby does not have any abnormalities. If something comes up there we will end that part of the exam and come back to the couch to sit and talk. Lastly, if you would like, we can determine the gender of the baby.”

Hermione nodded. So many things she hadn't even thought of. Did gender really matter? Did she want to know? Maybe she didn't, the Malfoy line always had males. It would likely be a boy and she wouldn't be surprised. It was a blood curse after all. Hermione stood, making her way to the table, Astoria followed, offering a hand for her to stabilize herself on as she climbed up to sit on the edge of the bed before laying down.

“Alright Hermione, let's get to it.” Astoria smiled down at her kindly while waving her wand in a practiced manner. Instantly the heartbeat filled the room, strong and fast. Twirling her want Astoria manipulated a conjured image of the baby, magnified greatly, above Hermione’s abdomen. “Here we go. This is your baby’s head and brain which looks lovely. Stomach, kidneys, face, and heart.” Astoria had conjured a small grape leaf that covered the genitals. A smile across her face as she pointed to it with the tip of her wand. “Hermione, would you like to know the gender?”

Tears were streaming down Hermione’s temples and into her hair at the sight of her baby. “Um, I, I don't think so. Not yet at least.”

Astoria nodded. “Sometimes it feels like that is the only true surprise in life.” Another kind smile. “Also, the baby is very healthy. No abnormalities though their magical core is quite profound. I know you had gone to the clinic. Did they tell you anything of the fathers magical background or abilities?”

At that Hermione turned away from the image before her to look at Astoria. “No, they didn't tell me anything about him.” Which was technically true, Hermione thought to herself. She wouldn't want to flat out lie to Astoria when she had already been so kind to her.

Astoria’s lips pursed. “I'm sorry Hermione. That is rather irresponsible of them to offer from people who have such extraordinary magical abilities without consideration for the witches own abilities. It will make the pregnancy harder on you.” With a wave Astoria dismissed the image hovering above Hermione and gently helped her into a seated position. “Everything looks wonderful and your due date should be towards the end of January, possibly the first week of February. Do you have any questions for me?”

Hermione cast her eyes around trying to think. Finally, her eyes landed on the Prewitt book. “Oh! Ginny gave me a copy of the Prewitt book for expecting mothers. It is a family heirloom that they pass down from generation to generation. There are a lot of spells and advice in it. Do you know anything about it?”

Astoria’s eyes sparkled and widened. “You have a copy of the Prewitt book?”

Hermione nodded, “yes, Ginny gave it to me,” as she pointed to it.

Astoria’s eyes rounded further, her mouth forming into an ‘O’. “That book is considered sacred. They only pass it along to family but it is well known, and coveted by all midwives. As much as I want to, I won't ask for a copy. I am certain that everything in there is absolutely fine.”

Warmth bloomed in Hermione’s chest at the implication that she had been given something so important, something only given to family. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “Some days I feel like a leaky faucet.”

Astoria smiled at her again. “It's normal. As much as it feels odd, it is entirely normal.”

Both women let out a small chuckle.

“Well, if you don't need anything else, I'll be on my way. Be sure to let the apothecary know you'll be needing those potions. It will take them overnight to brew them. I would like to see you in about two weeks to check your nutrition levels, is that okay?”

Once they settled on a date and time Hermione walked Astoria to the door, the table behind her vanishing, the quill and parchment tucked itself into her bag.

“If you need anything, owl or floo call. Once you are closer to your due date I will set up a charmed ring or necklace for you to summon me.”

“Thank you Astoria.” Hermione waved lightly as the witch left then turned, locked the door, and went back to the nursery. More tears falling from her eyes as she took in the room.

A knock sounded at the door a few hours later. Hermione looked at the clock, why would someone be knocking on her door at 11 o’clock at night? She unfolded herself from her place on the corner of the couch and put the Prewitt book down on the pile on the coffee table. She still had journals to read but had struggled getting through them after the last two.

Making her way to the door she clutched her wand as she looked through the peep hole to see a shock of white blond hair and black on black clothing. Malfoy. Opening the door she stood in the doorway.

“Malfoy? What are you doing here?”

“You, Miss Granger, need a keeper.” His words slurred as he stumbled against the doorframe, slid off of it and into her.

Hermione struggled to catch his much larger frame. Not bulky like Ron or Viktor but not as lanky as Harry. Lean but solid as he fell into her.

“Malfoy! Are you drunk?”

He clutched at her shoulders. “Of course not.” He defended, ending with a chuckle that could have been mistaken for a giggle.

“Oh Godric you are!” Hermione guided him through the door, shutting it and waving her wand to engage the locks as she struggled under his weight, guiding him to the couch. She practically flung him onto the cushions, struggling to maintain her balance as she stood between his legs as he sunk into the cushions.

His hands found the backs of her thighs, they were hot through the fabric, his long fingers wrapping around them indecently high as he did his best to pull her down onto the couch with himself. Hermione braced her hands, one on his shoulder and one on the back of the couch as she fought to keep her balance.

“Malfoy, what are you doing?”

“I just want to hold you Granger. Why won't you let me hold you?”

“Malfoy, you are drunk. You don't know what you are saying.” Hermione said, exasperated.

“I do too.” His voice was petulant. “I've wanted you for a very long time.”

“Now I know you are drunk Malfoy.”

“I may be drunk,” he said with a singsong voice, “but I tell no lies. Cum’ere an snuggle me Granger.” He made a grab at her hips, successfully twisting her body off balance until she landed heavily on the couch next to him. He quickly covered her body with his own, his head laying in the middle of her chest between her breasts as he trapped her legs between his own. “Mine, Granger. All mine. I'm gonna snuggle you so hard. Is so nice.” He nuzzled into her chest as he spoke. “Is right, is all right here, all mine, forever.”

Hermione waited a few minutes, intent on waiting until he passed out and making her way out from under him. Except every time she tried to move he latched onto her harder, one hand had made its way to lay gently, possessively, against the small swell of her belly.

Hermione found herself dozing as she waited, his warmth and steady breathing lulling her into sleep promising herself that, in a few more minutes, she would try again to get away.

Chapter 25

Summary:

Now that we are off of that cliffhanger, I am going to probably take a few days to bulk up on the next set of chapters before going into the new slew of chapters. I'll likely be updating daily again since we have a bit of another cliffhanger coming up.

The angst is real....and these characters seem to have it in spades.

I didn't plan for this to be a slow burn.....it's getting ready to become more smutty, I promise!

As always, Thanks for the comments and Kudos!

Hermione woke the next morning feeling far too hot and with a crick in her neck. She blinked up at the ceiling in her living room before looking down to the heated weight currently pinning her to her couch. Seeing Malfoy’s white blond hair was, at first, confusing, until the events of the night before began filtering into her brain. She moved slightly, trying to alleviate the pressure on her neck. She managed to shift her chest over slightly so that her head was twisted to hang over the side of the cushion before Malfoy’s grip on her tightened.

Unconventional, but a bit more comfortable, she thought to herself. Even with the odd position and the wizard currently using her as a body pillow, it had been the best sleep she had had in weeks. She found her hand carding through his hair. It was so soft, she kept petting his head as if he were a happy cat.

Hermione lay like that for quite some time. Listening to his slow, steady breaths. He would likely need a hangover potion. She may have one in her potion cabinet if the stasis charm on it was still good. It had been ages since she had needed one.

After a time Malfoy jerked slightly with a gasping breath. The hand that had been resting on her belly immediately going to to his forehead before he stiffened, seeming to realize that he was lounging on a person rather than a pillow. Hermione raised her head from hanging off the side of the couch to look down at him as he stirred. Slowly he raised his head before he squinted his eyes open to look at her face. He quickly dropped his head down to her chest, a low, muffled grumble vibrating against her sternum.

“Bloody hell.” His voice rough from sleep grated as the heat from his breath seeped through her shirt and into the skin of her ribcage. “Granger, are you okay?”

Hermione dropped her head back down. “Yes, Malfoy, I'm okay.”

“Good,” Malfoy nodded his head, his forehead dragging back and forth across her sternum. “Good,” a deep intake of breath before warm air blew across her ribs again. “You wouldn't happen to have a hangover potion would you?”

“I think so, if it is still good.”

Malfoy slowly moved to sit up, both hands moving to clutch at the sides of his head and cover his eyes as he made space for Hermione to rise from the couch. A low whimper came from him as she moved to stand and jostled him.

“I'll be right back.” Hermione rose from the couch carefully and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed several potions, including a potion for nausea and pain and made her way back to Malfoy. Here, take these.

Malfoy took them and downed them, one after the other. The fluidity of his motion telling her that this was something he had done before, likely many times. After downing the potions Malfoy sat back against the cushions. Giving them a moment to kick in. Hermione reached for the vials, moving to the kitchen to rinse them. As she moved to go back into the living room she found Malfoy behind her.

“I'm sorry for coming here drunk last night.” His face was morose, guarded.

Hermione turned, her back to the sink. Her kitchen was small which left them only a couple of feet apart from each other as he stood in the doorway.

“Why did you come here Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s tongue pressed under his upper lip as he sucked at his teeth. “I, I needed to make sure you were okay. I….I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Hermione nodded in an exaggerated fashion, her eyes never leaving him.

Malfoy's lips pressed together before he spoke again. “I'm sorry I got mad and just, left.”

A sharp exhale came from Hermione. “I'm sorry too. What I said wasn't helpful or kind. I'm still worried and I think it is still something we need to talk about, but yelling at you isn't an appropriate way to go about it.”

The tension in Malfoy’s shoulders melted at her admission. A genuine smile crossed his face, he was startlingly handsome when he smiled. “Alright.” A quick nod, “what do you say about getting some breakfast and we can talk?”

A grin crossed Hermione’s face. “I think that can be arranged, but only after we both change.” Hermione gestured to his wrinkled black suit and slacks. “I imagine we both look rather bedraggled. Can we meet back in the living room in fifteen?”

Another of his charming smiles before he nodded and disapparated from right in front of her.

Hermione hustled to her bedroom, quickly stripping out of her oversized shirt and sweatpants, finding a stretchy sundress with a high waist and a low hemline before moving to the bathroom to attempt to tame her curls, casting several smoothing charms on the unruly locks.

As she smoothed the last of her curls into place Malfoy appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, a broad smile across his face as he took her in. “You look lovely.”

A pretty blush spread across her cheeks. “Um, Thanks.”

She quickly turned from the mirror, glimpsing the door to the nursery, still open from the night before. “Did you, or Gimyn?” She gestured to the room.

“Gimyn informed me of your request so I came over Monday for them to be delivered. I took the liberty of putting them together after they arrived.” He looked shyly down at his black dragonhide boots, “I hope you don't mind, I was, trying to make amends by being of use.”

Hermione smiled, wet seeped from her eyes and made her lashes spiky. “Malfoy, you don't have to always be useful to prove your worth.”

This was something Hermione had picked up on. Every time he came it was to provide assistance of some kind. He could never be around just for the sake of being here. Like it was a craving to feel needed. The image of Malfoy as a people pleaser at heart was incongruous with the child Malfoy she had known in their interactions. Unfortunately it tracked with some of his behaviors with others that she had seen.

Malfoy’s brows furrowed, as if he was confused by this concept. He quickly changed the subject.

“Where would you like to go to breakfast?” He asked.

“There is a bakery near here we can go to. After, I had planned to go to the furniture store today.”

Malfoy agreed with a quick nod. He handed a nausea potion to her and walked towards the front door, opening it for her then closing and locking it behind them with wandless magic. Hermione had already started down the steps and he followed behind her. Once out on the street he moved to walk between Hermione and traffic, always so cautious of her safety.

They made their way to the bakery, ordering tea and pastries. Hermione watched Malfoy's long fingers pick at his pastry, tearing off small chunks and popping them into his mouth. They sat in a comfortable silence, much to Hermione's surprise. After most of their breakfast has been consumed Malfoy began to speak.

“May I ask you a question?”

Hermione nodded in response.

“Why did you dismiss Gimyn?” Malfoy was quiet with his question, curious rather than condescending.

“Oh, um, well, he is your house elf. It doesn't seem right to monopolize him, especially if we are on the outs. I don't like taking him away from his other duties or making him work harder to help me.”

“It isn't because you dislike him or have a distaste for house elves?”

Hermione’s eyes widened in horror. “No! Of course not! He is very dear to me.”

Malfoy nodded, as if putting the pieces of a puzzle together. “Would you be opposed to having him help you again?”

Hermione’s lips pursed. “I still stand by not wanting to monopolize him. I don't want to interfere with his duties or take him from his assignments within your home. I don't feel right doing that.”

That broad smile crossed Malfoy’s face again. “Then it's settled. Gimyn can come back to you.”

“Malfoy, you aren't listening to me at all are you?” Hermione’s works held no head alongside the censure.

“I am. The Manor has too many elves in residence. We have refused to force any of them to be rehomed and have developed a bit of an, overpopulation. They each have duties, however, there isn't much to do with just my mother and I in residence. We each have a dedicated elf and the rest tend to their assigned tasks, but even that isn't enough to keep them all busy. Mother can only rearrange the garden so often to keep them entertained. He has been truly lost without you. He had felt it a high honor that he had been assigned a person to care for all himself. He has been distraught for the past week since you sent him back thinking he had done something horrendously wrong.”

Tears pricked at Hermione’s eyes. “N…no. Not at all. I was just worried. I have been relying on him so much, and then we got into that row. I didn't want any of you to think I was taking advantage.”

“Good, it's settled.” Malfoy said with a firm nod of his head. “I will let Gimyn know when I return that he may resume his post. He will be dedicated to your care and that of the baby. He will be happy.”

Hermione tilted her head to the side, wincing slightly at the tension in her neck from her awkward sleeping position. How had she just been so thoroughly railroaded again?

At that, Malfoy stood, placed their dishes in the bin by the rubbish, and guided Hermione out with a hand on her back. “You know, Gimyn is quite taken with you. He speaks of you non-stop. I've heard the other elves are either jealous, or thoroughly put out with him because of his boasting. The first of his line to care for a Junior Minister.” Malfoy’s eyes sparkled as he glanced at her.

Hermione couldn't tell if he was being serious, or having her on. She would be happy to have Gimyn back, but needed some clarification.

“If Gimyn is coming back, does that mean he is still under the house of Malfoy? What if something happens down the road and you have your own heirs that need cared for?”

Malfoy nodded as if he expected the question. “Gimyn will be assigned to you unless you dismiss him. He will never be taken from you, or your child, unless you make that decision. Each person in my family is assigned an elf and that elf stays with them their entire lives. As I said before, we have more elves than we will ever have Malfoys. If I were to have any other children they will have their own elf to mind them.”

Hermione nodded slowly. Thinking through any loopholes or questions she may have. She discarded most and voiced one. “Does Gimyn know that you are the father?”

“Goodness no!” Malfoy exclaimed.

Hermione was shocked by his outburst, eyes wide as she turned to look at him.

“Do you know what busy bodies house elves are? If even one of them found out the entire house would know in less than thirty minutes. If you wish to keep it a secret, I advise that you not tell Gimyn.”

Hermione understood what Malfoy was saying. Though she still felt a bit hurt at his immediate dismissal. She knew she had always said this was her baby, and she wanted to care for them on her own. She guessed she hadn't realized just how much she had taken to heart the last fight they had had in which he claimed the child as his own, as if he truly wanted them.

As those thoughts crossed her mind they arrived at the posh boutique close to her flat. Walking in she moved to the area with a few stately bassinets. She selected the one that she liked most and moved to select bedding and gaze at the small clothes. Hermione found small bowties, adorable and reminded her greatly of her small house elf companion. Tears pricked her eyes as she lifted a small set and went to make her purchase at the counter.

“May I?”

Malfoy had been a shadow, following her around the store until they had reached the counter. He stepped forward with a black credit card outstretched.

“Malfoy, I can get this.”

“I know you can. I would like to get these things though.”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Malfoy.” Her tone was disapproving.

“Please, let me do this.” His grey eyes turned and met hers, pleading.

“Fine, fine.” Hermione stalked away while Malfoy made payment arrangements.

Once Malfoy rejoined her he informed her that the bassinet would be delivered later in the day and that he would stay to put it together. To which Hermione conceded without much rebuttal. As they exited the store Hermione looked over to him.

“Thank you Malfoy.”

“Certainly. It bring me joy to do these little things.”

A small smile crossed Hermione’s face. A warmth blooming in her chest from feeling cared for.

_______

Once back at the flat, Hermione sat down on the floor again, pulling her texts regarding the enchanted ceiling she had been working on. She shared with Malfoy her progress up to that point and indicated the issue she had yet to be able to overcome.

“I'll be right back.” Malfoy said right before he disapparated.

Moments later he reappeared with a stack of books in his hands.

“I think these will help.” He said as he sat the stack on the table next to them. “I'll start with this one and help.”

They both sat for hours, absorbed into the books Malfoy had brought, sharing notes and ideas as they read. Hermione occasionally reached up to run at her neck, still twinging from the poor sleep position of the night before. A few hours later Malfoy stood and stretched as a knock sounded at the door.

“I bet that is the bassinet.” He walked to the door, opening it an letting the delivery man in as of this was his flat and not Hermione’s.

One brow rose towards her hairline as she watched Malfoy show the man in with the overlarge box on a dolly and guided him to her bedroom. Minutes later Malfoy walked the delivery man back to the door, waving to wandlessly engage the locks again.

“You're comfortable.” Hermione quipped.

“Well, it isn't the first time I've taken deliveries for you.”

Hermione tilted her head to the side, wincing slightly. “Hmm, fair.” She gingerly stood and followed Malfoy to her bedroom, wand in hand to help him with putting together the bassinet.

Malfoy took the lead with unboxing and asked Hermione to sit on the bed and hand him parts. A small package of labeled screws and an instruction manual sat in front of her on the bed. Malfoy seemed happy to take direction from her has he put the piece together meticulously with his wand. Spinning the tip of it in small circles as he set the screws in place manually rather than with a faster charm that could potentially strip the screws or the wood. Hermione admired his attention to detail and conscientious approach to ensuring that the baby was safe.

Once finished Malfoy looked out the window to her bedroom. Hermione’s gaze followed and saw that the blue sky had begun to turn fiery red, orange, and pink.

“We probably should have some dinner.” Malfoy said softly.

“Yes, probably.”

Malfoy held out his hand, steadying her as she straightened her legs from the crossed position they had been in. She wobbled for a moment as the blood rushed to her toes and she felt faint. Hermione had become fairly accustomed to the sensation now and paused for a moment to let it pass. Once she did she smiled up at Malfoy.

“Anything sound good?” She asked.

Malfoy's mouth pulled to the side in thought. “I've always wanted to try Muggle pizza.”

A broad grin split Hermione's face. “I know just the place!” She grabbed his hand and led him from the room and out the front door, snatching her purse and a nausea potion from it as they hit the landing, waving at the door to lock.

_____

Once they returned from Pizza Hermione sank down onto the couch, doing her best to stretch her neck. The odd sleeping position the night before had strained the muscles. Malfoy noticed, of course.

“May I help? Do you have any pain relief salve?”

“It's okay. I just slept on it wrong.” Hermione did her best to wave him off.

“Which is my fault,” Malfoy groused. “Please, let me help. Do you have the salve?”

A soft sigh and shake of her head had Hermione flinching again. “Okay. If I have any it will be in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. On the back of the loo.” Hermione knew what he would find. A large wooden box that has been internally enlarged time and again during the war that she had still kept after all this time. Except now, it was woefully understocked. After the war Hermione had found freedom in letting some things go, the obsessive stocking and restocking of her potions had been one of them. Especially now when she no longer had easy access to a potions lab.

Malfoy returned, a half used jar of paste in his hand. “Granger, your kit is terribly sparse. When was the last time you refilled or replaced anything from it?”

Hermione shook her head and twinged again, she had known this was coming. “It's been a long time. It was one of the things I gave up obsessing over after the war.”

Malfoy nodded solemnly. “I, I understand,” his tone reflected the sudden shift in mood, he now seemed uncertain of himself.

Hermione thought quickly, attempting to recover the much happier mood they had been in previously. “Okay, how do you want me?” She asked as she conjured a hair tie and began pulling her mass of curls into a messy bun atop her head.

She looked up at Malfoy and saw the heat stirring in his eyes at her words.

Malfoy shook himself slightly. “If you sit on the floor I'll sit behind you on the couch, if that's okay?”

Hermione slid from the front of the couch and onto the floor, pressing towards the coffee table to allow him to pass behind her. As he sat, she heard him mutter a protective charm on his hands to ensure the salve touched her skin only before he unscrewed the jar and pulled out salve with his fingertips. She listened as he spread it between his hands and then his hands were on her neck. So warm and tentative at first, as if he were wary of touching her. As his fingers gently pressed into the taut muscles, kneading at them unexpectedly Hermione let out a soft noise of pleasure. His hands froze instantly and Hermione clamped her lips shut before uttering a quick “Sorry.”

“I'm not hurting you?” Malfoy had resumed rubbing at the tense muscles in her neck but much softer now.

“No, it's great, truly. Sorry, I'm…noisy.” Much more candor than she intended but his hands felt so damn good.

She noted that his hands moved from her neck to her shoulders, pressing the straps of her dress to the side but not quite off of her shoulders. Ever the gentleman, she thought.

After long minutes the pain in her neck had completely vanished. Between the salve and his warm, kneading hands she felt both comfortable and content. A yawn split her face and she tilted her head back and to the side, peaking at him from the corner of her eye.

“Thank you. That feels much better.” Her lashes lowered and raised slowly, like that of a happy cat.

“I feel like I should put you to bed.” Malfoy said, his hands still flexing on her shoulders.

“I do think I am ready for bed. Today has been wonderful, Malfoy. Thank you.”

“May I ask you something?”

Hermione’s brows furrowed. “Yes?”

“May I stay? I, promise to behave. Just, at least until you fall asleep?”

Hermione's brows furrowed further, “Okay, until I fall asleep is okay.”

Malfoy’s eyes sparkled, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. He gently stood, guiding her head so that he ensured he wouldn't accidentally knock her as he stood. Once he was standing next to her he reached out his hand to help raise her to her feet.

Hermione accepted the offered hand and made her way to her bedroom, Malfoy following close behind. “Stay here.” Hermione said without turning as she shut the door to her bedroom behind herself. She quickly changed into an oversized shirt and sleep shorts before opening the door for Malfoy.

His eyes raked over her comfortable sleeping clothes, Hermione felt a blush brighten her face as she ducked her head at his appraisal. “They're comfortable.”

Malfoy seemed to shake himself, “C’mon.” He tugged her hand until he reached the far side of the bed and pulled back the duvet. “In you go.”

A small giggle escaped Hermione. “Yes, Daddy.” As soon as the words left her mouth her eyes widened and she looked up at him with an expression close to horror.

A large smile filled his face causing his eyes to crinkle and smolder as he stared down at her and simply gestured to the bed.

“Perhaps this isn't a good idea,” Hermione said quietly.

“It's fine Granger. I won't assume anything based on your teasing. Promise.”

Hermione clumsily got onto the bed. All nerves and tensions now. Malfoy made his way to the side closest to the door before sliding onto the bed on top of the covers. Hermione still lay ramrod straight on her side.

“Come here love. I think we are both tired.” He held his arm up, an invitation for her to snuggle into him. His suit jacket had come off and he was in his black button down and slacks.

Hermione turned into him. Gingerly laying her head against his chest, careful to keep the rest of her body away. That was until he used the arm around her to pull her flush against him. The duvet cushioning their frames but she could still feel the heat coming off of him. His free hand came up to grasp hers and hold it against his chest, over his heart, as her head found the dip between his pectoral and the ball of his shoulder. It fit perfectly. Was her last thought before she drifted off to sleep, exhausted yet exhilarated from their day.

Chapter 26

Summary:

Being an adult can be so extremely ridiculous. Sometimes. I managed to give myself texting thumb and I'm now experiencing a hostage situation at the hands of a thumb splint. I promise that I will update as soon as I get more chapters posted. Apologies for any cliffhangers in the meantime.

Notes:

CW. Miscarriage, stillbirth, challenging pregnancies, masturbation

Hermione woke Sunday morning sprawled across her bed, warm and well rested. She heard soft noises coming from the kitchen and smiled. It seemed that Gimyn was back and likely enjoying himself given the light humming she could hear. She laid there for several long moments, enjoying the peace of the morning as her hand came to rest on her bump.

After a time, she pushed herself from the pillows and made her way into the kitchen to greet the elf. “Good morning Gimyn.”

Gimyn turned with a gasp, a large smile brightened his eyes. “Good morning Miss Granger! Gimyn is very happy to be back Miss! Master Malfoy explained that Gimyn hadn't done anything wrong, that it was all a misunderstanding. Thank you for having Gimyn back Miss.”

“Oh Gimyn, no, you did nothing wrong.”

“Good good Miss. Now, Miss’s potion and tea is waiting with the paper. Gimyn will has breakfast in just a minute.” With that he pressed at her with his overlarge hands, guiding her to the couch and then rushing back to the kitchen.

Hermione sat, quickly throwing back her potion and the grabbing her teacup and the paper to sit back and read. The front cover grabbed her attention.

WIZARDING WORLD’S ROYAL LOVE AFFAIR!

Hermione quickly flipped the page down to see Malfoy with Astoria leaving a boutique restaurant in wizarding London, his hand at the small of her back as he guided her down the steps. A small cut out shot to the side showed a massive diamond on the ring finger of her left hand.

A keening noise escaped Hermione and she quickly shoved her fist against her mouth. Tears tracked down her cheeks quickly. Engaged? He was engaged? How could he play with her emotions like this? Leading her on only to be out with another woman? The first story was easy enough to chalk up to Rita Skeeter's drivel, but this?

Hermione checked the publication. It was yesterday's paper, today's having not yet arrived. So he had been out with her on Friday night, the night he had come to her flat drunk.

Gimyn found her minutes later, still crying, reading and re-reading the article as if it would give her some insight.

“Miss Granger! What is wrong? What can Gimyn do?”

“Oh Gimyn.” Hermione’s voice faltered. “Nothing. No one can do anything right now.”

For a moment she thought of interrogating the elf. Was Astoria coming to the Manor? Was she why Malfoy had been too busy to see her?

She shook her head at the mere idea. She wouldn't use Gimyn that way. Tossing the paper into the fireplace she cast a quick incendio, not wanting to see the two perfectly dressed blonds on the cover any longer. Hermione moved back to the journals. The quicker she finished them the sooner she could send them back to Malfoy and be rid of the devastating stories of Malfoy women. She waved her wand to make a quick copy of the notes Malfoy had lent her and tucked them into the cover of the first journal.

Opening the account of the pregnancy of Septimus Hermione found more of the same. Challenging pregnancies that seemed to become worse with each successive generation. It seemed his mother had not been apprised of the blood curse that her mother-in-law had placed on all Malfoy women. The morning sickness was described as horrific, hormones drove her to near madness, and she had bled throughout the majority of her pregnancy. On multiple occasions she had assumed that she had lost the child only to be reassured by healers that she had not yet. She had remained on bed rest throughout the last month of pregnancy until Septimus had been born.

Hermione had read through that account rather quickly skimming the pages for anything important she may find. She moved on to the next journal immediately. The mother of Abraxas described much of the same symptoms. Reporting the use of nausea potions to be the only saving grace provided. She had had an accident at the beginning of the pregnancy involving one of the equines on the estate that had relegated her to bed rest for the remainder of the time. The birth of Abraxas rendering her infertile after the healer had to go to extreme measures to stop the blood loss after birth.

Hermione eyed the last two journals. After debating with herself for nearly an hour the merits of reading Lucius’ mother’s journal she skimmed Malfoy's notes instead and moved on to Narcissa’s account. Realizing quickly that reading a journal of someone who you actually knew, granted not well, was a much harder thing than an anonymous person's.

Narcissa's account was much less stoic than her predecessors. She included happy moments alongside the sad ones. Hermione wasn't sure what would have been worse, reviewing Lucius’ mother's account or reading Narcissa’s experience with a doting, kind, loving Lucius.

It wasn't until Hermione had gotten further into the journal that she realized that the timing was off. Narcissa and Lucius we're much too young at this point in the journal for the child to have been Draco. Narcissa wrote of a young Lucius, doting and loving, a grumbling Dragon and fierce protector. He was enraptured by her growing belly and ensuring Narcissa had everything she could possibly need. Narcissa wrote of the midwife that was attending her, a Muggle-born witch that Hermione had not heard of before. Though Narcissa struggled with all of the pregnancy symptoms the witches before her had also endured, she seemed to have a brighter outlook with Lucius caring for her. He would bring her flowers and carry her to the gazebo in the gardens for fresh air, spending all of the time he could with her. In her twentieth week she went into labor, the child was stillborn. A seemingly perfect girl that never drew breath. Narcissa kept bleeding, the midwife did all she could to heal her. She predicted that Narcissa would not be able to carry a child after because of the toll it had taken on her body.

Hermione looked up from the page as a tear landed on the aged parchment. To lose a baby, she couldn't imagine. Using a handkerchief she found next to her, and suspected Gimyn had supplied, she cleaned her face and forced herself to continue.

She read how Lucius had grown to hate Muggles and Muggle-born, blaming the midwife for the loss of the child. Narcissa was heartbroken and, while she didn't necessarily blame the midwife, her devastation at the loss was paramount in the journal. It wasn't until the Dark Lord’s uprising that she and Lucius were given new hope. A Pureblood healer in the ranks was given permission from Voldemort to help Narcissa if Lucius vowed the Malfoy name, and fortune, to the cause. Lucius, already mad with Muggle-borns and raised with Pureblood first ideology, was only too eager to agree. Narcissa was the only hope for both the Black and the Malfoy lines.

Complicated spellwork, including the use of priceless Phoenix tears, were utilized by the healer to help Narcissa conceive again. The pregnancy was hard on Narcissa, Lucius was so dedicated to his mission he rarely had time for her during her second pregnancy. She nearly died during labor. Once Draco was born, a male heir for both of their family lines, Lucius threw himself to the cause.

Hermione had given up trying to stem or catch the tears rolling down her cheeks. Narcissa’s story was wrought with emotion and played havoc with her own. After setting the journal down and taking time to simply breath in an attempt to calm her emotions, Hermione called Gimyn to her.

“Gimyn.”

“Yes Miss?” Gimyn’s too large head popped out of the kitchen, followed by his small body.

“Would you please return these to the Malfoy Library?”

“Yes, yes, of course Miss Granger.” With a quick snap the books disappeared, leaving the Prewitt text and the books for the enchanted ceiling strewn across the table.

“I think I am going to take a bath Gimyn.”

“Of course Miss.” With a quick nod Gimyn returned to the kitchen.

Hermione was lost in thought for the rest of the day on Sunday. Mostly, she mulled over the pregnancies of the Malfoy women and thought of contingency plans for her own pregnancy. She could work from home if necessary. With Gimyn, he could assist with sending missives and letters between her flat and the ministry. Having owls flying on and off her sills wasn't reasonable in Muggle London. Without an assistant she would struggle to stick to an 8-5 schedule, however if she was already working from home that wouldn't be critical.

She would be granted the ability to bring the baby to work, at least until they were toddling about. At that point she would either need to arrange for childcare or find another position. She had decided long ago that, while reform was necessary and important, she had already given so much of her life to the cause. It would be someone else's turn to take on that responsibility eventually. She wanted a fulfilled life, and work didn't take care of you when you were old. While she knew, if she didn't have children, which of her nieces and nephews would be selecting an old folks home for her, and which was likely to sneak in contraband for her, she wanted to experience having her own child, her own small family.

Her heart broke for the Malfoy women. Each with such a heavy cross to bear. While she was loathed to admit it, she could understand where a steady diet of blood purity combined with such an awful experience with a muggleborn midwife had easily turned Lucius and Narcissa to Voldemort's side. Having not even held her child yet, she couldn't imagine the grief and despair of losing one.

The next week went by in a rush. Gimyn had been packing her lunches and snacks alongside the extra strength nausea potions. Hermione did her best to keep down what she ate though even with the potions she struggled. Work had been busy and had kept her from doing much else that week besides eating, and struggling to sleep. The paranoia that she was being followed hung over her daily walks to and from work. After so many days of feeling it,she wrote off the sensation as an odd symptom from her raging hormones. Her fatigue was weighing on her. She still felt like she was being watched or followed, but she chalked it up to the fatigue weighing on her.

Tuesday she had resorted to masturbating again to try and sleep after seeing Gimyn off for the evening. She found it harder to achieve climax when she also refused to fantasize. She realized quickly that every time she imagined hands on her that they were accompanied by a white blonde head of hair.

On Wednesday frustration hit her as she wasn't able to climax at all. Using both of the toys that she had purchased only led her to intense frustration. By Thursday she pulled out the Prewitt book, desperate to dissuade the lust that was now accompanying the nausea she had been plagued with. Without a doubt, the nausea still occurred, but it seemed the conjunction of lust made it possibly more tolerable? She had at least hoped that the new urges would give her the opportunity to distract herself from constantly feeling like hurling.

The Prewitt book did have a few spells to accommodate a needy witch. It seemed they had created their own charms to create The Wizarding version of a vibrator. Much more elegantly conjured dildos than food items that may have been used by generations past. The last spell in the book for such situations conjured a phantom lover if your partner was no longer able to accommodate the increased libido. There was an annotation stating that this spell only worked during pregnancy, something to do with the hormonal fluctuations during pregnancy affecting the witch's magic. Hermione was sad to see that there wasn't much detail in the explanation. Reading over the spell it seemed you could select an individual, or, the spell would utilize your subconscious to create the figure that would most please you when cast.

Hermione sniggered as she thought of Ginny's experience with Neville using this particular spell. Well he had grown to become quite attractive. She was uncertain just how well Harry would have taken to the news given that it was either an intentional selection, or an unconscious one. She wondered which was worse for a moment.

That evening, after her new routine of seeing Gimyn off before heading to her bedroom, she again attempted to masturbate. After what felt like forever she looked over at her Muggle alarm clock, noting she had been at it for nearly an hour. Near tears with frustration she cast the spell, praying to any deity that would listen to help her get off so she could sleep.

As she turned to place her wand on the bedside table next to her she felt warm hands with long fingers skate up her ribcage along her back, a warm body pressed into her. Hermione quickly jerked to look behind her but saw nothing. Closing her eyes, the sensation of hands returned.

A quick thought crossed her mind. If she couldn't see who she conjured, then Ginny must have surely chosen intentionally….

Hermione shook her head in an attempt to remove that thought from her brain. The phantom man behind her moved in closer, his body pressed to hers, all hard muscle and fluid movement. A hand caressed down her side, dipping into the slight curve of her waist and moving to settle on her hip, gripping at it while phantom lips pressed to the sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder. The scrape of teeth had her throwing her head back into the sensation. A hand groped at her breast, the swollen, oversensitive flesh there being kneaded, her nipple was a painful peak. She swore she could feel a warm, wet tongue against her flesh, easing the ache in her nipple and then passing to caress the other one.

Hermione’s own hand slid down the swell of her belly and into her shorts, past the waistband of her knickers. Shortly after the sensation of those garments being dragged down her legs as a mouth glided over her belly and feathered kisses along her upper thighs began to overwhelm her. She spread her legs, vaguely aware of her hands on her body though they felt like her phantom fantasy spector.

A wet rasp against her clit had her crying out as a finger slid inside her, finding that rough, nerve ritch spot inside and stroking it with the tip of that finger. Within moments she was coming. Crying out from the pleasure as it finally swept over her.

Moments later, when the spell had dissipated after her climax, she pulled her fingers from beneath her shirt and between her legs. She hastily wiped them on the hand towel she had begun keeping on her nightstand and rolled over, quickly falling into oblivion.

Chapter 27

Notes:

Hold on tight, going to try to post as frequently as possible given my hand.
More angst, with a promised HEA, incoming!

The phantom partner spell became one that she used nearly nightly, always after seeing Gimyn off for the evening. She felt rested for the first time in weeks and even the pervasive nausea seemed to be more tolerable now that she wasn't also struggling with sleep deprivation. She was eating healthy meals and snacks, thanks to Gimyn. While she was working an inordinate amount of overtime, and still feeling uncomfortable on her walks home, all seemed to be going alright.

On Friday she did make certain to leave on time, she was due for her two weeks follow up with Astoria. Hermione wasn't quite sure how to feel about Astoria. By all accounts in the paper Malfoy and Astoria had been seen together on numerous occasions over the past two weeks. Exiting popular eateries and shops on Diagon Alley, attending a gala together and a charity event where Malfoy was Astoria’s escort.

Hermione couldn't truly be mad. Astoria was kind and also a Pureblood. She would make his family happy and likely give him a Pureblood heir. She didn't seem to harbor any ill will towards Malfoy because of his past, if anything she seemed very familiar to him given that she always addressed him by his first name.

Hermione shook her head. She needed to get Malfoy out of her mind. Just because he was kind to her did not mean that he was interested and any words he said while drunk should be discounted. This was all an unexpected complication in his life, something Hermione never wanted to be for anyone. He said he wanted to be involved in the baby's life and maybe that was the extent of it. Perhaps him caring for her was only a means to an end. The more her thoughts churned the more broken she felt. So many men she had dated had treated her as nothing more than a womb. She had thought by taking this journey on her own she would escape that. Tears began tracking down her face as she walked.

Hermione arrived home, thanking Gimyn from the entry for already preparing a tea tray and organizing her coffee table into a semblance of order yo give space for the tea service. She moved immediately to the bathroom to try to get her face into a semblance of order. After several cool wet cloths and a few false starts she checked the time and noted she still had nearly half an hour before Astoria would arrive. Hermione moved to her bedroom, doffing her robes and work clothes in exchange for comfortable lounge pants and an oversized shirt. As she was hanging her robes in the closet she heard a knock on the door and saw Gimyn rush to open it.

Astoria greeted the small elf with familiarity and smiled as he showed her to the couch in the living room. Hermione joined them moments later, thanking Gimyn for pouring tea for the two of them. As Hermione entered Astoria turned her attention to her.

“Good afternoon Hermione, how are you feeling?”

“I'm feeling better now than I was, physically.”

“That is great to hear,” a bright smile came to Astoria’s face. “How is the morning sickness treating you? Are the potions still helping?”

“The potions make it manageable. It is still there, but I am usually able to keep meals down with the help of the potions.” Hermione's mind moved into logical mode, pressing down her emotions.

“That is great to hear!” Astoria said with genuine cheerfulness. “Do you mind if I run a quick nutrition check?”

“No, go ahead.” Hermione noted Gimyn in the corner, seeming to take in everything that was being said.

Astoria waved her wand towards Hermione and a display of sorts appeared nearly in Hermione’s lap.

“Okay, it looks like the nutrition potions have helped with the things I was concerned about. You are showing to be a little anemic. Have you been bleeding at all?”

“No, not at all.” Hermione’s brows furrowed at the question.

“That is great. Sometimes it can be normal for iron levels to become low at this stage. I will recommend increasing red mead, leafy greens, and fruits and vegetables as tolerated. That should help keep everything moving as it should.”

Hermione nodded, not saying anything in response, just listening.

“Alright, I do want to follow up at 16 weeks just to verify that everything is progressing as it should. You have quite the impressive little one that you are currently growing. I rarely see pregnancies of this magical level. I know you said the clinic didn't give you any information in regards to the father. Is there any chance you know who he is?”

Hermione cast her eyes down towards her feet, one hand in her lap, the other resting against the small bump of her belly. After clearing her throat she spoke. “I do know who the father is. There was an error made at the clinic. The father and I were made aware of the situation but I'm not sure how involved he will want to be. I've shared with him that I intended to have this child on my own so he is not beholden to it in any way. Because of all of this, I do not feel comfortable sharing who he is.”

Astoria scrutinized Hermione for a moment. “You are referring to a major medical error Hermione. Have you reported this to anyone?”

“Um, no, I haven't. It seemed like an honest mistake and then, well, I didn't want to go back there after my last appointment. They seemed adverse to treating the morning sickness and unconcerned with the pain I was experiencing. It didn't seem like a good fit any longer.”

Astoria nodded, her lips set into a grim line. “I understand Hermione.” She laid a reassuring hand over Hermione’s. “I'm here if you decide you would like to talk about it.”

Hermione nodded, lips pursed. “Thank you Astoria.”

“Okay,” Astoria changed the topic with a bright smile. “Things to expect between now and your 16 week visit; your hormones are going to be fluctuating again, likely causing an increase in libido, tears, laughter, anger, all of those things. You may experience swelling of your belly and feet, I highly recommend getting some comfortable, stretchy clothes right now. You may even need to increase your shoe size by a bit to accommodate. Oh, and you may experience a bloody nose in the next few weeks. Typically they aren't anything to worry about but if it won't stop after several minutes please floo call me. If it becomes a problem I'll send over a potion for it. Okay?”

Hermione nodded again. “Okay, thank you Astoria.”

“Of course!” Her smile was warm and genuine. “I can't wait to see this little one! If you need anything please reach out.”

Astoria made her way to the door, Hermione escorting her the few feet to close and lock the door behind her. When Hermione turned Gimyn was no where to be found. She checked the kitchen, bathroom, and nursery without any luck. A quizzical expression passed across her face as she settled back onto the couch. Where could that little elf have gotten off to?

Gimyn returned almost an hour later with a large tray of food, far more than Hermione could eat. A large salad of leafy greens, steak, and baked asparagus. A side of fresh fruit with whipped cream sat to the side, Hermione assumed for dessert. The small elf stood to the side of the large tray after setting it down on the coffee table in front of her, a very self satisfied smile on his face.

“Goodness, Gimyn you have outdone yourself.”

The elf preened under her praise. “Gimyn is quite good at following instruction. Gimyn listened to Miss Astoria and will fix food she suggested.”

“Thank you, Gimyn.” Hermione made a show of taking a small bite of each item, remarking on how delicious each one was.

Seeing him light up at her praise was endearing and reminded her that she had a small gift for him. She knew it would be a delicate gift to bestow, house elves did not appreciate being given clothes. She would have to phrase it in a way that it did not sound as if she were gifting him clothes, rather offering something for his use.

“Gimyn, I was out shopping the other day and found the most adorable bow ties. I know Malfoy said that there are articles provided for their house elves to wear, like uniforms?”

A look of consternation crossed Gimyn's face as he nodded.

“Well, I was thinking, that maybe I could have a few items here in case you need, or want, to change while you are here? How does that sound?”

“Miss Granger, is you mad at Gimyn? Did Gimyn do something wrong?”

Hermione could tell he was doing his best not to break out in wailing sobs.

“No, not at all Gimyn. I just thought it would be nice to have some things here for you. In case you ever had to stay overnight or were called over in an emergency.”

Gimyn’s eyes widened. “Miss would allow Gimyn to care for her overnight? This brings Gimyn so much joy! Gimyn can make a place to sleep in a small cupboard! Miss won't even know Gimyn is here!” The sheer joy radiated off of the elf.

It was Hermione’s turn to widen her eyes. This was not going as planned at all. As much as she had grown to rely on his help, she didn't necessarily want a 24/7 escort. Especially given how small her flat was, and how noisy her nightly ritual to sleep had become.

“I don't like the idea of you sleeping in a cupboard. Can you continue to sleep at the Manor? At least until a space has been made for you?” Hermione wondered if she used an illegal expansion charm on her flat if she could also add soundproofing spells on her bedroom.

A smile crossed his small face. “Gimyn will do as Miss Granger commands.”

Hermione’s lips pursed. She didn't mean to command him, though, if it did allow her the space she needed to be able to get herself to sleep she would chalk it up to a necessary evil. She promptly stood, a wave of dizziness causing her to grab the arm of the couch quickly. Once reassured of her stability, she moved to her bookshelf, pulled a book that should have a room silencing charm off the shelf and searched for it.

After several hours, her eyes were too blurry to keep reading the text before her. She realized late that the original book she had selected was incorrect. Blaming baby brain she had pulled three additional texts to review. Happy to have found a project to occupy her brain for the weekend she saw Gimyn off and retired to her room.

Feeling utterly worn out Hermione changed into an oversized sleep shirt and sleep shorts, forgoing knickers since she was so often making a mess of them before falling asleep. Her head hit the pillow and she was suddenly wide awake. A low growl rumbled from her chest, annoyed at her lustful body and uncooperative brain.

Hermione worried that, at the rate she was going, she would become dependent on the Prewitt conjured lover spell and that it would stop working altogether from repeated use. A heavy sigh passed her lips as she reached for her finger vibe from the bedside drawer. She arranged the pillows behind her to lounge in the bed, fantasizing it was a body curved around her rather than fabric and stuffing.

She imagined arms wrapping around her as her own hands moved to her breasts. One hand kneading the engorged flesh of her breast and the other thumbing the sensitive peak of her nipple. Shudders of pleasure went through her body. Her breasts were so much more sensitive now. She wondered if she could come from breast play alone.

After several minutes she slid her hands down her belly to her waist and threw herself into her fantasy. She imagined her hands belonged to someone else. A voice in her ear as her imagined lover cradled her in his embrace. She raised her knees, spreading them apart and placing the soles of her feet on the mattress as she teased along the outer flesh of her pussy, slowly working in towards her clit. A quick flip of the switch on her vibe and it came to life, buzzing away from its position strapped to her finger.

She slowly circled wide around her clit, knowing if she went too quickly it would overwhelm the sensitive flesh. She gave the fantasy voice in her own head.

“Hmm, you are so wet for me love.”

Hermione mewled at the imagined words, nodding her head in response to her fantasy.

“Such a pretty little pussy. I'm going to make you come for me. Get you ready to take my cock.”

Hermione felt her inner muscles clamp down at the imagined words. Her hips thrust up into her own hands, gone in the fantasy. She felt herself come close, hovering just before the edge of orgasm, before her body refused to press over that precipice.

She tried again, imagining more dialogue from her fantasy. She tried sinking two fingers into herself, though with the swell of her belly she found she struggled to hit the right angle to curl her fingers into that inner bundle of nerves. She growled in frustration and reached for her wand, quickly casting the Prewitt spell.

As the spell took effect she could now feel the solid form of a body behind her and phantom arms wrap around her body. She settled into the conjured warmth behind her, finding the back of her head cradled perfectly into the dip between his shoulder and pec in a way that felt familiar.

“Hmm, you got yourself ready for me love?” A familiar voice sounded in her ear.

Hermione whimpered at both the words, and the familiarity of the voice.

Phantom lips kissed along her jaw and neck, one hand raising to just under her jaw to tilt her head back to give him better access. After he kissed his way back up her neck he turned her head to press kisses to her waiting lips. He started with soft pressed kisses that slowly grew into small licks and nips until she opened her mouth to him. As his tongue stroked hers the taste of green apples burst along her taste buds. She gently sucked at the tongue exploring her mouth, following it with her own in a delicate game that brought a fresh dampness between her legs and gooseflesh to her body.

She felt the hand not holding her in place slide up to her breast, kneading the flesh there, gently pinching her nipple between two long fingers each time he closed his hand. Before long Hermione was writing on the bed, her hips shifting and grinding as her conjured lover's cock grew at the small of her back.

Hermione whimpered when he came up to take a breath. “Please? I need.”

“Do you need me love? Where do you need me?”

“My pussy, I need your hands on my pussy, I need you inside of me.” Hermione did not balk at the admission.

Lips growled next to her ear. “I'll make you come love, I'll take care of you.”

His hands slid down her body to her core, taking a moment to caress the swell of her belly as he made his way between her thighs.

Another growl in her ear. “You are so wet for me love.”

Hermione couldn't restrain the sudden jump of her hips to press into his long fingered hands. He used his hand between her thighs to raise her on his chest, her head now level with his. As he settled her weight back down she found she was now sitting on his lap, his cock pressed into the crease of her ass through what felt like trousers, and her knees now resting on either side of his, opening her to him further than before.

Hermione cried out at the sudden pressure against her clit, a different kind of pleasure hit her from the press of his hand as he moved her.His mouth dropped to the, now scant, inches to where her neck and shoulder met to nip and lave at the skin there. His hands now both settled between her legs to pet around her clit and circle her opening with one long finger.

“Do you want me, love? Do you want my finger fucking inside you while I pet this pretty little clit?

A moan tore from Hermione. “Yes! Yes, please.” The last word came out in a whimper as that finger pressed inside her, curling just right to hit that nerve ridden spot inside. His other hand lay above her pussy, the fingers forming a ‘V’ to either side of her clit, gently pressed to either side and jacking at the bundle of nerves.

A cry tore from Hermione, then an incoherent stream of ‘Please’ and ‘Oh Gods.’

“Come for me Angel, let me hear you.”

The fingers tending to her redoubled their efforts until Hermione let out a cry, falling into one of the most intense orgasms of her life.

As soon as her orgasm faded the conjured lover did as well. Hermione lay panting as she came down from her orgasm. Once she recovered she promptly turned over and fell into oblivion as sleep rushed over her.

Chapter 28

Summary:

Just hang on with me. I promise everything makes way more sense by the end of chapter 31 and the angst will die down. Just gotta get there. ❤️ A bit of fluff and a tiny bit of angst with this chapter.

Writing has been going slower with the hand injury also. It gets better though! I promise!

Saturday morning Hermione was startled awake by the sound of her floo activating. Minutes later Ginny rushed into her bedroom and hurled herself at Hermione’s bed, reminiscent of their days together at Hogwarts.

“Oh my God Ginny! What are you doing?” Hermione exclaimed in surprise.

“Surprising you.” Ginny smiled sweetly from where she had wrapped herself around Hermione, the duvet between them. “How is my favorite Witch doing?”

Hermione huffed out a laugh. “I'm doing fine Ginny, though you may have just given me a heart attack! What if I'd hexed you?”

“Oh, we both know you are fine.” Ginny chuckled, “besides, when was the last time you actually drilled spells? I'm safer with you than around Harry and James. They are always playing tricks!”

While that was true, it did make Hermione grimace. She did need to practice more, especially with the little one. She had lost the aptitude for spur of the moment spell casting since the war, she rarely needed it now.

“Chin up Hermione. We have an adventure today.”

Hermione’s brows drew together, “we do?”

“Yes, we do. I am taking you out today.” Ginny stated in a voice that brooked no argument.

“And if I had plans?” Hermione scoffed.

Ginny burst into a fit of giggles. “When do you do anything other than work unless you are coming over to Mum’s for dinner? I know you Miss Granger. Up you go!” Ginny sprung from the bed, yanked down the blankets and pulled Hermione quickly to her feet.

Just as quickly as Hermione was up, she fell back onto the mattress with an, “oof.”

Ginny’s eyes rounded. “Oh Godric, are you okay?”

Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself. “I'm fine, just get lightheaded easily.”

Ginny’s look turned quizzical, “You are still getting lightheaded? How far along are you?”

Hermione had sat up slowly, looking up at Ginny standing before her. “Um, 14 weeks.”

“Isn't that late to still be having those symptoms? I don't remember dealing with that at all after 6-8 weeks with my pregnancies.”

“My midwife assured me that everything is very normal. I guess this little one,” Hermione looked down to her belly and gently patted her hand against it, “is rather remarkable magically. She says that is why I'm having such a rough go of it.”

“I'm so sorry Hermione. That must be awful. Do you have any other symptoms right now?”

“Oh Godric, the morning sickness is atrocious. Even the strengthened nausea potions have started having limited effects. The lightheadedness of course. I'm hormonal, I feel like I cry at the drop of a hat. Difficulty sleeping….and I am the absolute horniest I've ever been in my life.” Hermione ends on an embarrassed giggle.

“Ugg,” Ginny responds, “I can't imagine morning sickness lasting so long. I barely had it for two weeks with each pregnancy and swore each time I would never have another. I'm glad the midwife said everything is okay. The hormones made me a total wreck. Poor Harry couldn't do anything right. The one great thing about being pregnant is getting to have as much sex as you want without worrying about getting up the duff. Hard to worry when you already are, right?” Ginny ended with a giggle of her own.

After a moment Ginny took Hermione’s hands, urging her gently to her feet. “Alright Ma'am, off we go. Let's get you presentable. We have some shopping to do!”

Hermione smiled brightly. “Shopping? Where? What for?”

Ginny gave Hermione a side eye as she strode to Hermione’s closet. “To get you some cute maternity clothes. I saw you in your yoga pants at The Burrow. While your arse looks fabulous,” Ginny gave a saucy wink over her shoulder, “you'll need something more than yoga pants to live in on the weekends.” Ginny proceeded to tear through Hermione’s closet, throwing items out onto the bed behind her as she pulled, viewed, and seemingly discarded various items.

Hermione shook her head. “I'm going to the loo, don't destroy my bedroom too badly.”

By the time Hermione emerged, hair charmed, teeth cleaned, and bladder relieved, her bedroom was put back into order and Ginny had laid out one of the beautiful dresses that Malfoy had selected during their shopping trip.

“This is new. I love the color. I bet it looks great on you!”

“Oh, thanks, I, um, just bought it a few weeks ago.”

“Well, it is perfect for going out today but we need to get you something other than oversized shirts and yoga pants.” Ginny stood, hands on her hips as she made the proclamation. “Our first stop is going to be my absolute favorite maternity store in Muggle London, then, we will be going to Diagon Alley to get you some maternity robes for work. If you are going to keep working you will have to make sure your belly is covered by your robes at work. Wizarding folk would be scandalized to see your belly poking out through your robe.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You all can be so weird.”

“I'm not, but yes, wizards are weird, and dumb, and archaic sometimes. It's a shame we have to do so much shopping to keep them happy.” Ginny’s smile was saccharine.

“Alright, give me a minute to get dressed and then we can go.”

Ginny gave a quick bounce and rushed out the door, closing it behind her.

Several minutes later Hermione met Ginny in the living room. She had grabbed her purse with Muggle money and hung the strap across her chest. She also added some cushioning charms to her walking shoes for the day, expecting they would be doing quite a bit of walking.

“Ready?” Ginny stood at the door, hand on the knob.

“As I'll ever be.” As they left Hermione was sure to lock the door behind her and they made their way through Muggle London.

Ginny’s favorite store turned out to be a rather adorable boutique. They had ankle length dresses that would accommodate growing bellies and smart pantsuits with stretchy waist that promised to last throughout pregnancy and postpartum.

Ginny selected gobs of clothes, forcing Hermione to try them all on. Hermione noted that Malfoy had made a better shopping companion as she discarded the fourth outfit Ginny had brought her. They were obnoxiously bright and not at all to Hermione’s liking.

She finally settled on three dresses, one outfit with stretchy waisted slacks and a top with an empire waist, and a pair of denims with a stretchy waistband with another empire waisted casual top. Before they finished, Hermione stopped in the undergarment department. She was at the point where her bras no longer fit, her breasts spilling over the cups and under her armpits.

Ginny enlisted the help of the clerk to get proper sizing for Hermione and set about selecting several bra and knicker sets that were, in Hermione’s opinion, outlandish. She promptly told Ginny that as well.

“What do I need any of this fancy stuff for. No one is going to see me in any of this.”

Ginny waved off Hermione's comment. “You need it for you. I'm just gonna tell you up front. There are going to be some days when you feel like a flobberworm. On those days, you are going to need a pick me up. I promise you will thank me when that happens.” With a quick nod Ginny closed the subject.

An eye roll and heavy sigh escaped Hermione but she let the ginger terror continue on her mission. Once Ginny had selected five separate sets Hermione finally called it.

“Enough! That's enough! I don't even know if I get to keep these.” Hermione gestured towards her breasts. “I’m checking out now.” Without waiting for a response from Ginny, Hermione made her way to the register to pay for her new clothes. Ginny joined her minutes later with one more set, this one was a bra and knicker in an emerald green with black lace trim. Hermione looked over at Ginny, one brow raised.

“What? You never know. I got you a gold and blue set too.”

Hermione’s lips twitched before a one sided smirk took over her face. “No yellow?”

Ginny gasped in exaggerated horror. “Oh hell no!”

Hermione snickered. Offered up the money for her purchases, and watched as two large bags were filled with her new clothes. As she walked out the door she heard, and felt, Ginny whisper a charm to lighten the bags she was carrying to make them more manageable.

Back on the street Hermione looked down at her Muggle time piece noting they had spent several hours shopping already. It was nearly 1:30 in the afternoon. Ginny steered them towards the Leaky Cauldron as they ambled down the streets of London.

“Let's grab some lunch at one of the cafe’s yeah?”

Hermione checked her pocket to ensure she had one of her strengthened nausea potions, then agreed. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Wandering into the Leaky, through the back into Diagon Alley, Hermione was struck with nostalgia and a sharp sense of loss for her parents. She remembered them coming with her and learning all about the Wizarding world with her. She imagined the families she saw, generations of them, helping children get everything they needed for Hogwarts and was saddened to know that her child would only ever have her. No grandmother's to dote on them or grandfathers to spoil them. Molly and Arthur would, no doubt, love her child. It just wouldn't be the same though as if it were her own parents who would be solely focused on their grandchild.

Ginny turned to see tears coursing down Hermione's cheeks. She quickly conjured a handkerchief and offered it to Hermione, putting an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

“What's wrong ‘Mione? Want to talk about it?”

Hermione waved her off and shook her head. A forced laugh coming with her words. “Oh, it's just these damn hormones.” She used the kerchief to mop the tears from her face, forcing her mind to move to a different topic. “So, which cafe would you like to go to?”

Ginny gave Hermione a sympathetic smile. “Ooh, have you been to the fancy new teahouse cafe that just went in? Everyone is raving about it. It's on the way to Madame Malkin’s too.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Hermione said without much gusto but with a small smile.

The two witches made their way and were quickly seated at an outdoor table once they arrived at the restaurant. The atmosphere was charming and the sidewalk in front of the cafe had been fenced off and held small tables covered by umbrellas that were enchanted to move to always provide shade for those sitting below them. Hermione and Ginny both ordered tea, Hermione sticking with her new standby, ginger. When the cups were set on the table Hermione quickly took her potion and, once certain it would stay down, began perusing the menu.

They both studied the offerings for long moments before making their decisions. The wait staff were quick and attentive, taking their order as soon as they had decided and disappearing back into the cafe. Their mugs refilled automatically, a lovely added feature. Hermione looked to Ginny.

“How are your ankles doing Hermione?”

Hermione cocked her heat to the side, brows lowering. “What?”

“Are your ankles swelling?” Ginny made a spectacle of lifting the tablecloth to look down at Hermione’s slightly puffy ankles. “Oh, they are. Here.” Ginny made an awful racket pulling one of the metal chairs over to their table. Once she had it close enough she turned to lift Hermione’s feet up onto the seat. “There, that should help.”

Hermione was so distracted by the sound of iron grating on concrete she didn't notice who had just stepped out of the entry until Astoria called her name.

“Hermione! Oh, hello! It is so good to see you out! And look, Miss Weasley is taking great care of you.” A kind smile crossed Astoria’s face as she looked between Ginny and Hermione.

Hermione moved to get up but Astoria waved her down. “Oh no, don't get up. Keep those feet up okay? It really is good to see you out. A little sunshine is good for everyone.” Another kind smile.

At this point Hermione realized Ginny was looking between Astoria and herself with a very confused expression. “I'm sorry, Astoria, this is Ginny, Ginny, this is Astoria. She is my midwife.”

It was as if a lightbulb clicked on and Ginny's eyes brightened. “Oh goodness! Lovely to meet you.” Ginny reached out to shake Astoria's hand. Ginny’s handshake much more aggressive than the dainty resting of fingers Astoria performed. “I didn't know we had any female midwives around. I may have to reach out for you if I have another one. I swear the healer just about didn't make it through my last one. I was expecting him to fall over and his ghost to try to catch Albus as he came out.” Ginny gave a solid chuckle at her own joke.

Astoria’s light laugh was charming and adorable. “Oh, you must mean Healer Davies! He truly has been around forever. I studied under him for a time myself. Well, if you ever decide to have another feel free to owl me. I would be happy to help.” With that Astoria looked behind her at the sound of the door opening.

Hermione’s breath caught at the shock of white blond hair that emerged into the sunlight. “Muh….Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s eyes darted to meet her own. A slight, swift nod acknowledged her as his eyes quickly darten to Ginny, then to Astoria, and back to Hermione. “Granger, Weasley.” Another nod to each of them and then his hand was at Astoria’s back, guiding her away.

“Great to see you!” Astoria waved congenially behind her towards Ginny and Hermione as she walked away.

A heavy sigh left Hermione once she thought they were out of earshot. Her mind spinning.

“That was a deep sigh,” Ginny looked to Hermione, one brow raised in inquiry.

Hermione let her eyes close then opened them slowly, resetting her mind to block out the interaction in an effort to not cry. “Just tired. Hopefully lunch will help reenergize me.”

Ginny nodded skeptically at her.

_____

After lunch Hermione and Ginny make their way to Madame Malkin’s. Besides being more than a little scandalized that ‘such a fine witch as herself’ would insist on working while pregnant they were helpful in creating new garments for Hermione. She ordered three sets of robes ranging from business casual in nature to formal. After dropping a ridiculous amount of gold for the purchase Hermione was assured that her robes would be delivered via floo covered with a courtesy wrap to ensure they were not damaged by any soot. As they walked out Ginny snorted.

“I would hope something like that would be complimentary given how much you just paid!”

Hermione’s hands went to rub at her face. “I'm pregnant, not contagious!” She was grateful they had shrunk her other bags down to pocket size when they entered the Leaky so she wasn't encumbered by the additional bags.

“Alright ‘Mione, anything else you need or want to look at?”

Hermione took a deep breath, looking around at the various shops and gauging her energy level. “One quick stop into Flourish and Blotts?”

“Sure,” Ginny's smile was indulgent.

After they both perused the selections and made purchases they set out into Muggle London again. Ginny let out a breathy sigh.

“I don't even know why I bother buying books. Between the Harpy’s and the kids I barely have time to sit, let alone read.”

Hermione gave Ginny an empathetic smile. “Won't it get better as they get older? Can entertain themselves more?”

“You obviously never grew up in a house full of boys ‘Mione. I'll never know what rest is again.” Ginny chuckled. “I wouldn't trade them for the world though. They're everything y’know?”

Hermione smiled, genuine happiness crossing her features as her hand moved to rest over the swell of her belly. “I think I'm beginning to.” She smiled wistfully. “Hey, why are we heading towards your house?”

“Oh, it's closer than yours. Figured we could have some tea and you could floo home rather than walk. You are still safe to floo until about 15 weeks. Your ankles are looking rather,” Ginny looked down for emphasis, “large.” She snickered.

Hermione's lips pursed, “Well, I'd like to see your ankles after walking around all day while pregnant.”

“Are you kidding? You have. Prewitt’s are just blessed with easy pregnancies. It's a gift really.” Ginny’s grin was infectious as they made their way to Grimauld place, arm in arm.

____

Stepping into the darkened hallway of Grimauld Place, Hermione turned to the right to enter the family room. Upon turning the corner the lights flared and a group of people yelled “Surprise!” This was accompanied by several flash bangs of inside fireworks and a large banner that said ‘Congratulations!’

Hermione stuttered and gasped before collecting herself, one hand instinctively going to cover her belly and the other reaching for her holstered wand before realizing it wasn't where it should be. Glancing up she saw Ginny stepping beside her, Hermione’s wand in hand.

“I figured since we talked about your reaction skills I would keep it safe just in case you accidentally tried to hex anyone.” A large grin spread her cheeks as she offered Hermione’s wand back to her.

A chorus of “Congratulations!” came from the group before her, each pressing forward to hug her and congratulate her personally. Hermione felt tears prick her eyes and track down her cheeks.

“I can't believe it. Thank you all so much!”

Ron and Harry were the first to step forward to embrace her.

“Bloody hell Hermione, already with the water works!”

Harry conjured a quick handkerchief and handed it to her. “Congrats ‘Mione.” A warm smile on his face.

Next were Molly and Arthur, then Bill, George, Percy, Dean, and Charlie hugged her in turn and wished her congratulations. George adding a quip about being excited to teach her child about all of the best, worst tricks to play and Percy looking on disapprovingly.

It wasn't long before Percy and George began bickering.

“Don't you think your own children will be more than enough for the staff and prefects at Hogwarts to handle? You need to corrupt your nieces and nephews as well?” Percy snarked.

George shot back a snide remark about Percy not knowing what fun was unless it bit him in his overlarge nose.

After a few moments Dean steered Percy into the kitchen with promises to return with refreshments.

The women approached then, dragging Hermione in to sit on the sofa. Ginny raised her ankles to sit on the low coffee table in front of her and they all gathered around, leaning or lounging on the available furniture.

Fleur spoke first, “Con-gratu-lations Her-mi-on-e! We are zo ex-zited for you.” Her French accent was still strong after all of these years.

Angelina chirped on, “This is so exciting! All of our kids will grow up together now. They will go to school together and terrorize everyone in the castle!”

A bright grin lit Hermione’s face. “They will, won't they?”

After the women chatted for a time George came into the room carrying a large box wrapped in pastel greens and yellows. “I think it is time for ‘Mione to open her gifts!”

“Oh no! This is too much!” Hermione protested.

Parvati responded. “No, it isn't. You've always been here for us and our children. Now let us return the favor.” Her words were accompanied by a kind smile and a pat to Hermione’s hand.

More presents appeared around Hermione, her eyes growing wide at the sheer mass of boxes and bags in the growing pile next to her. Ginny grabbed a bag and handed it to her.

“Better get to opening, we have cake too for after.” George quipped.

Hermione opened present after present. Small outfits, magical rattles, pacifiers, a bouncy chair, a small rubber duck with a thermometer on the bottom. When she opened that one her eyes connected with Arthur's and they shared a smile with tear stained cheeks. He gave her a slight nod and she continued.

Most of the large boxes were boxes of diapers. Ginny interjected, “you are going to absolutely love these. I'm convinced they are the best invention muggles ever came up with. You just wrap it up and throw it away! No more washing disgusting, stained cloth diapers!”

Hermione looked around to see everyone nodding in unison. “There are so many!”

“Oh, trust us, you will go through them.” Ron said. “It's what babies are best at. Eating, and making messes.” A put upon sigh escaped him that caused everyone to chuckle.

“He’s right though. For the first bit all they do is eat, sleep, and poop.” Angelina agreed.

Fleur nodded in agreement as well.

By the end of the evening Hermione had eaten far too much sugar, was sore from all of the activity of the day, and felt exhausted. She hobbled through the floo into her flat as Harry, Ron, and George helped cart all of the gifts into the nursery and drop them inside the door.

As Harry moved to go back home through the floo, the final armload of items delivered, he stopped. “The nursery really is lovely ‘Mione. Are you doing alright, um, by yourself?”

Hermione smiled tiredly from where she lounged, resting on the sofa. Her hand moved to cup her small belly. “I am Harry, I really am.”

“Good, you deserve to be happy ‘Mione.” With a lopsided grin Harry popped back to Grimauld place through the floo.

Minutes later Gimyn appeared from the doorway of the kitchen. “Welcome home Miss!”

“Oh Gimyn! I'm sorry! I didn't tell you I would be out today.”

“Not to worry at all Miss Granger. Gimyn stayed busy all day today. Would you like Gimyn to put away everything from today?”

Hermione smiled at Gimyn, a bit sheepishly. “I would actually really appreciate that. My ankles are a bit swollen and I'm exhausted after today.”

A quick snap of Gimyn’s fingers and a pillow appeared on the coffee table before Hermione. He bustled over and lifted each of her feet and placed them on the pillow. Patting her hand that was resting on the arm of the couch Gimyn chortled, “so lovely to see you rest. Leave everything up to Gimyn!” With that the small elf disappeared.

A time later Hermione was woken by the small elf. “Miss, Miss, may Gimyn help Miss to bed?”

“Hmm, what?” Hermione blinked her eyes blearily.

“Miss, it has become quite late and Gimyn does not want Miss to have aches from sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, thank you Gimyn,” Hermione said sleepily, “I've got it.” She pulled her legs down and slowly stood from the couch, hobbling to her room on sore feet and legs. She barely managed to strip out of her clothes before falling to her mattress. Sleep claimed her just as quickly.

Chapter 29

The next morning Hermione was roused by Gimyn calling to her from her doorway. “Miss, Miss, it is time to get up to get ready for work.”

Hermione blinked open her eyes and looked blearily at the clock on her bedside table. She blinked rapidly and looked again. “Oh no! I didn't turn my alarm on last night!” Hermione flung the covers from her body and rolled to the side of the bed before realizing she was wearing nearly nothing. Her gaze darted to the doorway, relieved to find it empty. A quick flick of her wrist and the door shut before she moved to rub the sleep from her eyes. Standing slowly, she made her way to the closet and took out another long, summer dress of soft, stretchy fabric. Her robes were becoming tight and she silently thanked Ginny for taking her to get new ones.

Once Hermione was dressed and she completed her morning bathroom routine she made her way towards the front of her flat. She smelled breakfast wafting down the hallway from the kitchen and for the first time in ages it didn't make her stomach curl in on itself. She followed her nose to see what Gimyn was up to.

“Good morning Miss! Gimyn made you a spinach and feta quiche with buttered toast.” He made his announcement while setting a plate at the table with a flourish of his wrist. “Would Miss like a potion this morning?”

“This looks delicious Gimyn!”

A red flush heated the elf’s cheeks.

“I actually don't feel nauseous right now. I should probably still take it though, maybe it will make sure I don't get nauseous at all today.”

Hermione threw back the potion that appeared at her place setting at the table and dug into the food with gusto. It was probably the best quiche she had ever tasted. She made sure to tell Gimyn that who blushed brighter.

“Thank you so much Gimyn. I need to be off to work now. Have a good day!” Hermione gave him a small wave as she walked out the door, waving the locks into place behind her. A creeping sensation along the back of her neck returned as she made her way down the steps to the street which followed her all the way to the entrance to the ministry.

She made her way through the Ministry and into the elevators, stepping out onto her floor and heading towards her office as an odd metallic smell hit her and she felt her nose begin to drip. Pressing the back of her hand to her nose she looked down at it to see bright red blood, stark against her skin.

“What?” Hermione started but shut her mouth quickly as the blood hit her tongue and caused her stomach to protest. She rushed to her office and grabbed at the tissues on the corner of her desk pressing several against her nose to try and staunch the flow. She moved to lean over her trashcan to prevent the blood from dripping onto the carpet in her office.

Several long minutes passed as the blood streaming from her nostrils seemed to become worse. Remembering a trick her dad had once used she carried the waste basket with her to dig in her lower desk drawer before finally pulling out a small tampon. She used the plunger to deploy the absorbent cotton into her nose before sitting at her desk, tired already.

By her first meeting of the day her nosebleed had stopped and she was able to remove the feminine hygiene product from her nose. She sent up a silent prayer in thanks for the Muggle inventions and went about her day as normally as possible.

Lunch was plagued by nausea so she barely ate anything for the remainder of the day. Even with the potion she struggled to keep down even ginger tea and digestive biscuits. By the time she left to go home for the day she was dragging, exhausted from work and her ever present symptoms and feelings of paranoia.

Hermione collapsed onto her couch as soon as she walked in the door. Not stopping even to remove her robe or shoes. She quickly toed her shoes off though to place her feet on the cushion that was still on the coffee table.

Hermione thought she may have fallen asleep there, still in her work clothes with her bag next to her on the couch, when she smelled food being cooked in the kitchen. She slowly lowered her legs, one at a time, and gently sat up. Stretching her arms and back as she prepared to stand. Pressing into the arm of the couch with her hand she slowly rose into a standing position. She was doing her best to prevent any dizzy spells, especially with Gimyn close by. He worried so easily.

Hermione made her way to her bedroom, hanging her robes and putting her dress in the laundry hamper and exchanging them for comfortable, worn sleep shorts and shirt. Heading back to the living room she stooped to pick up her shoes and felt a trickle from her nose, the metallic smell becoming familiar. She quickly pinched at her nose to try to stop the bleeding while she raced to the bathroom. Leaning forward over the sink she continued applying pressure while using a wet cloth to clean her upper lip and chin. At least she didn't get blood on her shirt, she thought. She took a length of toilet paper, folded and rolled it into a cylinder and worked it into the nostril that blood was streaming from. She waited a moment to ensure it would hold before making her way to the kitchen.

Gimyn startled upon seeing her. “Is Miss alright? What happened?”

Hermione sat gingerly in the chair at the small two top table in her kitchen. “I'm fine Gimyn. Remember Astoria said that I may have some nosebleeds in the next few weeks. It's normal.” Hermione shrugged.

A look of consternation crossed Gimyn’s face. “Gimyn wishes Miss Granger’s pregnancy was kinder to her.”

Hermione smiled at the endearing little elf. “Some days I think so too. I'm just so happy to have a chance at being a mum though. It will all be worth it.”

Gimyn nodded and then turned back to the stove, the stool he was perched on moved between the stone and the counter next to it with his magic.

“Have you been around many babies Gimyn?”

“Oh no Miss. There are not many babies in the Malfoy lines. Only one heir per generation usually.”

“Were you there when Malfoy, um, Draco, was born, or when he was a boy?”

“Oh yes. Gimyn has been with the Malfoy family for a very long time. Gimyn remembers. Gimyn was there for Master Lucius’ birth and for Master Draco’s birth.”

Hermione grimaced at the elder Malfoy’s name. “Why do you call him Master Malfoy and not Master Draco?”

Gimyn turned to look at Hermione as if she had brain matter dripping from her ear. “It is proper to address the Lord of the Manor by their surname and Master. Gimyn always addresses Master Malfoy appropriately unless differentiating between Master Lucius or Master Draco. Master Draco is the Lord of the Manor, Master Lucius has passed the title on to Master Draco since Master Lucius will not be returning from Azkaban.”

Hermione nodded slowly, taking in the information. “I guess that makes sense.”

After a time, Hermione felt the silence needed broken. “Is there anything you are looking forward to Gimyn?”

Gimyn raised his head, eyes cast towards the ceiling. “Gimyn is excited to take care of Miss Granger and Miss Granger’s baby.” He quickly nodded at her and then turned back to the stove.

A pursed smile crossed Hermione’s face. “I'm going to go sit in the living room. Thank you Gimyn.” Hermione stood and walked the few steps to the couch, muttering a quick spell to turn on the TV and flipping channels until she found something worth watching.

Dinner accompanied by a strengthened nausea potion and an early bedtime was all Hermione wanted for the rest of the evening. The fatigue of pregnancy was greatly impacting her leisure reading time. The most frustrating thing was that, far too often, she would lay down, exhausted, and suddenly feel wide awake and horny as hell.

After nearly half an hour of trying to masturbate manually, and another half an hour of masturbating with her vibrator, she was still unable to orgasm. Reaching for her wand she quickly cast and immediately felt the weight of her conjured loved press into the bed next to her.

She set her wand onto her nightstand before rolling onto her back and then to her side until she was in full contact with the conjured form. She tilted her face to off her lips, craving the intimacy of kissing. Soft lips met hers, brushing gently against her own several times before pressing harder. A soft swipe of tongue against her lips and she opened into the kiss, tentative and gentle licks causing heat to bloom low in her belly. One hand slid beneath her, pulling her body to lean against his while his other hand tangled in the hair at the back of her neck and cradled her skull. Hermione melted, feeling small and safe and precious all at the same time. Tears sprang to her eyes, knowing that this was all an illusion.

Soft lips brushed over her lashes, brushing the tears from them. “Hush now, love. I’ve got you angel.” coaxing her head to the hollow of his throat the conjured figure pressed a thigh between hers, grasping her arse to encourage her to grind against the firm muscles there. “I want you so badly, love. Will you come for me? I want to hear you.”

Hermione felt the flush of heat hit her again low in her belly at the words and the pressure against her core. She felt his hand slide back, below her arse, to sink a long finger into her while she ground her clit into his thigh. She felt him grind up into her as well, his cock thick and long grinding up into her hip. She gasped at the feel of him.

“Please?” she moaned into the feel of him, her eyes sealed shut against the nothing she knew was there.

She felt the hand still on her arse slide up her back, fingers tangling into her hair and lifting her head in a way that an actual lover would have been able to see her face. “Please what love?”

“Mmm,” Hermione groaned at the gentle but insistent tug on her scalp, “Please, fuck me. I need…” her words trailed off as the thigh between her legs pressed tighter.

“No love, not like this.'' He quickly rolled her, pressing her into the mattress and capturing her lips again for a moment before trailing down her body, stopping to lave and suck at her nipples before making his way to her cunt. Lapping and sucking, and thrusting his tongue inside her before moving back to her clit and thrusting two fingers in before curling them up just so.

As she came close to shattering, fingers buried in her conjured lovers hair she felt his form slowly start to lose shape just as she fell over the cliff of orgasm. By the time she was in the full throes of it he had vanished.

Panting and coming back to herself, Hermione thanked all of the gods she could think of for allowing her to come before the spell wore off.

_________

The next morning Gimyn had a note sitting on the table next to her orange juice for her alongside an omelet with steak, spinach, and red peppers. If she was being honest, she was pretty tired of eating mostly steak and greens, but she wouldn’t tell the elf that, he was being so kind and following Astoria’s notes to a ‘T’ she didn’t want to dissuade his dedication lest he feel unwanted or shot down.

Picking up the parchment she quickly opened it and read Malfoy’s perfect script.

Granger,

I would like to meet with you this week to discuss a side project I have been working on. I know we also have not completed our other discussion. Please let me know a night this week that you are available.

-Malfoy

Hermione read the note twice to ensure the had not missed anything further. She realized her hope for more was foolhardy given everything that had been going on lately. He was kind and wanted to be involved in the life of his child, nothing more. She would work to remove her emotions from their interactions.

She flipped the page and summoned a muggle pen from her coffee table, responding in her own clumsy scrawl.

Malfoy,

I am available any evening this week but Thursday.

-Granger

She passed the note to Gimyn and asked him to ensure that Malfoy received it. A quick snap and the note disappeared from Gimyn’s hand and a sharp smile came to the elf’s face.

He passed Hermione a strengthened nausea potion and a glass of water, noting that it would likely make the orange juice taste bitter. “Here you are Miss. How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m well. How are you, Gimyn?” Hermione asked after she downed both bottle and glass and then sat to eat her breakfast.

“Gimyn is quite well, Miss. How did Miss sleep last night?” A sly side eye and grin accompanied the question as Hermione observed him packing up a bag with her lunch and snacks and shrink it down to pocket size for her.

Hermione’s cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red before she composed herself. “I slept fine. How are you doing with traveling back and forth? I know we talked about making a space here for you…” Hermione trailed off, looking to the elf for a response.

“Oh no! Miss is far too busy to worry about Gimyn, Gimyn is fine.” Gimyn said with a sweet smile.

“Thank you Gimyn, I appreciate your understanding. I promise I will work on it this weekend though, okay?”

Gimyn only smiled in response and went to put her lunch into her bag.

Hermione finished breakfast quickly. She grabbed her bag, wished Gimyn a good day, and made sure to lock her door behind her as she made her way to the ministry. She made a mental note to talk to Astoria about the feelings of paranoia. She had hoped that after a week or two it would wear off but at this point she thought she would like some reassurance.

Midday she received a response from Malfoy.

Granger,

Tomorrow it is. I will come to you. Gimyn and Dogan will coordinate dinner.

-Malfoy

Hermione rolled her eyes at the heavy handedness that seemed to plague Malfoy. Another nosebleed started, crimson blood dripping onto Malfoy’s perfect script. After pulling a small tampon from her lower drawer and shoving up her nose she waited for it to abate. Once she felt it was safe, she removed the, now bloodsoaked cotton and incinerated it. The last thing she needed was someone getting ahold of her blood to try and hex her or something. Taking a deep breath she returned to her work for the day, being careful not to stay too late as she didn’t relish the idea of walking home in the dark with the ever-present feeling of being followed.

Another night, another cast of the conjured lover spell to sleep. Again, the form faded just as she reached climax. Hermione made a mental note to check the book the next night to see if there was anything in it about loss of efficacy or failure after a certain number of uses.

By the next evening she was thoroughly put out with the constant nosebleeds she was getting. She had owled Astoria, questioning the frequency, but was assured that they can be normal and not to worry unless they lasted more than thirty minutes. That with the extra blood now coursing through her body, and hormones effecting her blood vessels, that nosebleeds can be common. The bright side in her symptoms was that the constant nausea was improved. She was still taking the potions, but found that she wasn’t having as much breakthrough vomiting as she had been before.

She made her way home at a reasonable hour, walking briskly as the small hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. She finally made it to her flat and quickly slammed the door behind her, engaging the locks with a quick wave of her wand. Rushing from the doorway she went straight to her bedroom, and then straight into the bathroom when she smelled the, now familiar, metallic tang and felt a telltale drip hit her upper lip.

She felt ready to scream as she grabbed a wad of toilet paper and pressed it to her nose, using her other hand to pinch just below the bridge to staunch the flow. Hot, angry tears coursed down her cheeks as she bent at the waist, head pressed against the cool mirror over the sink. She hadn’t even been home for more than five minutes before she heard a knock at the front door and Malfoy call through moments after not receiving a response.

Hermione called from the bathroom, “Gimyn, please open the door for Malfoy.” Her voice came out nasally and muffled. She heard the front door swing open and quickly closed before another knock sounded at the door of the bathroom.

“Granger, are you okay?” Malfoy’s voice came through the door.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Her voice again, nasally and muffled.

“Granger, there are droplets of blood on the floor. Open the door now.”

“I’m fine Malfoy. Please, go sit down.”

The door swung open, missing Hermione by just a few inches as Malfoy took in the state of her. His face was pale and blood smudged his fingertips, bright against his alabaster skin. “You aren’t fine,” he growled.

“Malfoy, it is just a nosebleed.” Hermione began to move her hands but the flow of blood immediately began again so she quickly moved them back.

“I see what it is. Are you okay?”

Hermione took a deep breath through her mouth, a heavy sigh leaving her. “Astoria has assured me it is completely normal. Nothing to worry about. Okay? Now, please give me a few moments to get this to stop and I’ll be out.”

Instead of doing as she asked Malfoy stepped forward and guided her to sit on the toilet. She resisted at first but then gave in, knowing at this point it would be easier to acquiesce rather than fight him. He seemed excessively concerned for her wellbeing given his involvement with another woman.

“Here.” Malfoy drew his wand and muttered a quick spell before slowly, gently, pulling her hands away from her face. He crouched before her, tilting her head slightly back to be able to look up her nostrils to ensure that the bleeding had stopped.

“While I appreciate the assist, this has to be the most unflattering position I’ve ever been in.”

Malfoy huffed out a laugh. “It looks like it has stopped.” He quickly stood, grabbed a washcloth, and wet it in the sink before returning to his position, crouched before her on the toilet. Gently, he took the cloth and wiped the blood from her lips and chin.

“Dogan,” Malfoy called over his shoulder. “Would you please remove the blood stains from the carpet? I don’t want them to become permanent.”

“Yes, Master.” A cheery elf about the same height as Gimyn said from the doorway with a slight dip to his head. This elf wore black slacks and a black button down complete with a black silk tie and silver tie clip. The few hairs on his head combed over sharply.

Hermione shook her head slightly in bewilderment at the Malfoy house elves. They truly did seem to care about their presentation. Perhaps Malfoy was onto something with finding a way around their refusal to care for anyone but their charges.

Malfoy turned back to Hermione, taking another quick look at her to ensure that the nosebleed had truly stopped, before standing and offering a hand to her. Exiting the bathroom he waited for her before attempting to guide her to the living room.

Hermione stopped at the doorway to the bathroom though. “Go ahead and sit down. I want to change. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Making her way to her bedroom once Malfoy passed she waved the door shut behind her before she pulled off the too tight robes. She hoped that the new set would arrive today so she could wear something more comfortable, and less obvious, the next day. Shucking her shoes and dress, and pulling her hair into a messy knot atop her head, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and shirt that used to be too large for her. It seemed that her breasts and belly were going to be insistent on making themselves known, she decided after changing twice with no improvement. Hermione shrugged as she made her way back to the living room, giving up on finding anything that would be loose on her.

Moving to the couch she noted the slight widening of Mafloy’s eyes as she sat against the arm opposite him. After the silence drew on for a moment longer than Hermione was comfortable with she cleared her throat.

“So, what did you want to talk about Malfoy?”

He at least had the decency to look sheepish for a moment before his cool, unaffected facade dropped back into place. Taking a deep breath he started.

“I think we should finish the conversation from the other night, hopefully in a much more, amiable approach.”

Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Regardless, I would like to be involved in our child’s life. I’m not sure what that will look like, honestly, I would be happy with any contact I could have. My childhood, when I was little, I always felt loved, cared for, special. While I know that I ended up being quite a prat from being over spoiled, my mother was the best mum any child could ask for.” He paused for a moment. “I never want my child to grow up with the hate and bigotry I was indoctrinated into. I want them to work hard and appreciate everything they have, and have every opportunity to excel.” Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose, a slight sniffle coming from him. “I want to teach him how to ride a broom and have afternoon tea with my mum.” Malfoy nodded, a tear falling to his cheek. “So, yes, Granger, I want to be involved and my involvement is not contingent on anything happening to you. Of course, if anything were to happen to you I will do everything in my power to keep him safe and happy, even if that means Sunday brunch with the Potter-Weasley contingent.” A slight smile graced his mouth. “I will also do everything, anything I can to keep you safe.”

They sat, watching each other for long minutes.

“Okay,” Hermione said, only trusting herself to say that after his emotional disclosure.

“Okay?” Malfoy parroted, not sure what exactly that meant.

“Yes, Malfoy, okay. I think, what you want, that it would be okay. I didn’t grow up with a large family. It was just me, Mum, and Dad. When I lost them,” tears began to track down Hermione’s face. “When I lost them, I lost everything. I think,” she paused to take a deep breath. “I think the more family my, erm, our child has, the better. I don’t ever want them to feel alone.”

Malfoy grimaced and attempted to blink back more tears while conjuring a handkerchief to hand to Hermione. “I think I know exactly how you feel.” a grim but hopeful smile crossed his face.

Dogan and Gimyn appeared before the coffee table together. Announcing in unison that dinner was ready causing Hermione to giggle and Malfoy to chuckle. The two were so proud of themselves, it was hard not to appreciate their dedication and excitement.

Chapter 30

Summary:

A bit more angst and fluff. I know I originally said it gets better in chapter 30, and it does, but we have some more confusion and miscommunication. I promise, we are near the end of it!

Stick with me! It will be worth it! 😘

Hermione and Malfoy made their way to the kitchen, led by the two elves fit with crisp white towels on their small forearms. A quick smile flited across Hermione’s face until she entered the kitchen. Her expression changed to a gasp of shock as she took in the ceiling spelled to a starry night sky and the fancy place setting on her bistro style table now covered by an immaculately white tablecloth.

“How?” Hermione started, but trailed off.

A bright smile crossed Malfoy’s face when she turned to look at him, questioning. “With all of the work you had already done I was able to find the missing component in the Manor’s Library. I thought it would be a fun surprise for dinner tonight, though I didn't expect it to be quite so extravagant.” He turned his head to eye the two elves preening with their accomplishment.

The two elves smiled at each other, almost as if sharing a private congratulations amongst themselves.

Gimyn stood behind one chair, waiting for Hermione to sit before he pushed it up for her.

“I think I feel underdressed.” A faltering smile accompanied the words.

Malfoy waved his hand as he also sat. “Nonsense.”

Plates with platinum silver cloches, shined to a mirror finish, appeared before them. Both Dogan and Gimyn removed the tops at the same time, releasing a waft of steam from the plates below and causing Hermione's mouth to water. Selecting her utensils she and Malfoy dug into the delicious meal, forgoing conversation for long minutes as they ate. Malfoy with meticulous table manners while Hermione, while polite, all but inhaled her food. Once she wiped her mouth with her napkin she realized this had been the first meal in ages she had consumed without the help of a potion.

Once the plates were cleared a desert of sinfully dark chocolate and berries appeared. Digging in Hermione moaned as the taste burst across her tongue. Looking up after a few moments Hermione realized that Malfoy had stilled, his eyes darting between her mouth and eyes. A deep blush came to her cheeks as she muttered a quick apology.

Malfoy seemed to shake himself before indulging in his own desert. Taking long moments between bites to enjoy the delicious confection. Gimyn and Dogan cleared places again, looking smug and happy at all they had accomplished.

“Thank you both. Everything was delicious.” Hermione gave each of them a sweet smile and each of them blushed in response.

“Yes, thank you.” Malfoy nodded in their direction as he stood from his chair. Let's move to the couch where you'll be more comfortable.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and followed Malfoy, full and satiated from their meal.

Sitting, Malfoy began speaking right away. “What I wanted to talk to you about is in regards to our experience with the clinic. I would like your permission to share our experience there with someone who is investigating what is going on there. I know you also have experiences beyond what we've shared and wanted to request, to ask your permission, to share that as well.”

Hermione's brows furrowed. “Why is the clinic being investigated?”

“Well,” Malfoy paused, as if being careful with his words. “Some things have come to light that are, not consistent with best practices. I've been informed that attempts at discussions from, concerned colleagues, have not been listened to so the consensus is that an investigation is warranted.”

Hermione’s face had taken on an air of pragmatism, if not annoyance. “Are you being intentionally obscure or…?”

Malfoy grimaced. “The amount of information I am able to disclose on the topic is limited. I was asked to see if you would be willing to share your experience.”

“Well, you've pretty much heard of everything that happened before you became involved. Lots of potions, terrible side effects, and a sample mix up. That's about it.”

Malfoy reached forward to touch Hermione’s hand, opening his mouth to speak until Hermione pulled her hand away.

“Malfoy, I hardly think this is appropriate.” Hermione’s tone was flat as she glared down at his offending appendage.

“What? Touching your hand?”

“Yes. I imagine your fiance would take exception to it. As lovely as this evening has been, I won't be the other woman.”

“My fiance? What are you talking about Granger? I'm not engaged.”

“And the giant diamond on Astoria’s finger is for show?”

A weariness came to Malfoy's eyes and his lips pursed. “Granger, you should know better than to believe the drivel that Rita Skeeter pens.”

“Then enlighten me Malfoy because right now I feel like a mouse being played with by a kneazle.”

Malfoy's lips pressed into a line. “Astoria and I are working on a report regarding our findings pertaining to the mistreatment and mismanagement that the Fertility Clinic is guilty of. Astoria has a fiance who is Muggle born. Her family doesn't approve so they are very careful, mostly staying in Muggle London. You probably even know him, it's Dennis Creevey.”

Hermione blinked at him, her eyes owlish.

A sigh left Malfoy as he continued. “Astoria and I were betrothed at a young age but I broke off the betrothal once she told me of her love for Creevey. By that time I had taken the dark mark and I cited that as the reasoning. We've been close our whole lives because of the betrothal but much more like siblings than lovers. She and I work together from time to time to research blood curses in the Malfoy Library and I help her with potions.” Malfoy’s head fell back, one hand raised to pinch the bridge of his nose between his eyes. “I can't believe you'd think so low of me.” Malfoy released his skin and slowly moved to stand. “I think it's best I go ahead and leave. I'll see you later Granger.” He walked a few paces towards the door and disapparated.

Hermione sat there blinking at the spot Malfoy had been in long minutes before. How had she gotten things so wrong? They had been having such a nice evening and she had managed to ruin it by being waspish about, what Malfoy had rightly pointed out, Rita Skeeter’s sensationalist drivel. Dropping her head into her hand she raged at herself internally. Why hadn't she just asked him instead of assuming. He kept trying, being so kind and polite, and she kept pricking at him every chance she got over misinformation and her own misgivings about him as a person. Was she really so petty to still be holding a grudge against him for the filth he spewed as a child to her. Was that part of her insistence that everything with him came with an ulterior motive? Any child indoctrinated as he was would repeat the same things they had been raised with. He had learned better and seemed to be a changed man now. Hermione found herself at the realization that she needed to learn to let go of the past more, she couldn't keep this up if they were to be amicable and show a united front for their child, whether he wanted her and their child, or just their child.

Their. Hermione’s breath rushed out in a sob. She thought of the baby, her baby, as theirs.

_________

The next morning Hermione woke up, her face swollen, red, and crusty from crying herself to sleep. Thoughts of being a spiteful, hateful witch immediately came to her mind as she moved to the bathroom to try and get her inflamed skin and eyes under control.

Looking in the mirror she paused to address herself. “Going forward, you are going to work on doing better.” A fierce nod to herself in the mirror and she went to work making herself presentable for the day.

Gimyn startled her when he appeared at her bedroom door with a large package in his hands. “Miss, this came for you this morning.”

“Thank you Gimyn.” Hermione moved to take the package from the elf, turning and setting it on her bed. Waving her wand to open the package, her new robes sprung out already on hangers with a wrinkle free charm on them, causing them to come out looking perfect. She quickly grabbed the hangers and placed the new items in her closet, grabbing the least formal robes to wear to work. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn't have to force herself into the too tight robes she had been wearing all week.

When Hermione arrived at work she realized it was Thursday. She had committed to an outing with all of her friends to announce her pregnancy. Ginny had informed her that it would be expected and had arranged the whole thing. Most of the group consisted of Gryffindors though a few Ravenclaws would join. While she was already tired just thinking about the outing she knew she would enjoy seeing everyone.

Before she set about her day, she had decided on her way into work that an apology was in order from her to Malfoy. She pulled a piece of parchment from her desk and began.

Malfoy,

I apologize for my assumptions and hostility. If you feel my account would assist in your project I will provide it.

-Granger

Hermione hoped that offering her help would provide a sort of peace offering. She quickly waved her wand to fold the parchment and directed it out of her office and to the owlery to be delivered.

She went about the remainder of her day, busy as usual and only suffered from one nosebleed as she was returning from a meeting. Hermione guessed if she had to have them at least they seemed to come at more convenient times than the morning sickness. By five o’clock Harry stood at her door.

“I have strict instructions to pry you away from your desk ‘Mione.” Harry said from the doorway.

A soft chuckle left Hermione. “Two more minutes.” She quickly finished writing a note before closing the folder of the file she was working on. “Done.” She said with a sharp nod.

Harry looked on with admiration. “I think that is the fastest I've ever seen you wrap up. Normally I need to give you several warnings.” A goofy smile crossed his face. “Good job ‘Mione. Work life balance is important.” He said with a nod.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Then I won't tell you about the reports in my bag that I'm taking home with me.”

Harry shook his head at her. “Soon you won't have time for all of that.”

A warm smile graced Hermione’s face as a hand dropped to her lower belly. “I know.”

Harry began to turn but Hermione stopped him.

“Harry, may I ask you a question?”

Harry turned, his face open and jovial. “Sure, ‘Mione, anything.”

“Do you think I am, that I, hold grudges?”

Harry’s smile turned confused as he cocked his head. “I feel like there isn't a good answer to this.”

“I promise, it isn't a trick question. I, well, I guess you could say I've been doing some soul searching and, I guess I'm just worried that I'm not giving people a fair chance because of past experiences.”

Harry moved to fully face her, coming close enough to reach out and pull her into a hug. “‘Mione, with everything you have gone through you, of all people, have a right to be more guarded. While you absolutely do not tolerate any verbal slights against anyone. Sometimes it can be harder for, people with conflicting pasts, to get to know you like I do.”

Hermione pulled back enough to look Harry in the eye. “Thank you for being honest with me Harry. I'm going to work on it.”

A sincere, but slightly dimmed, smile crossed Harry's face. “‘Course ‘Mione. Now, let's get to this party. Gin has been excited about it all week.”

Hermione took Harry’s hand and followed him through the now empty halls of the Ministry as he walked her to the entrance into the Muggle world.

“How did you know I was avoiding the floo’s and apparition now?”

“Did you forget I have kids? I know it isn't advisable after a certain point in the pregnancy. Gin also reminded me that you had just hit the cutoff date. I think it's a big part of why most witches stay home during pregnancy. Don't worry ‘Mione, I'll get you to dinner and home safe.” Another lopsided grin before the ventured out into Muggle London, heading for the Leaky.

Walking with Harry seemed to ease the tension she had been feeling on her solo walks home. He kept up casual conversation, telling stories of Albus and James’ shenanigans over the past week. The two were always into something it seemed. Once at the Leaky they quickly made their way into Diagon Alley and into a new pub space that had opened. Ginny had gotten there early to hold a table, all of the Weasleys now crowded around it with a few of her favorite Ravenclaws, Padma and Luna. She noted the group of Gryffindors at the next table, Neville, Katie, Lee, and Seamus, who Ginny had also invited.

A loud cheer sounded as Harry and Hermione joined the fray. Making their way around the table they exchanged boisterous hugs and shoulder pats. Hermione made her way to stand to one side of Ginny, Harry standing to her other side.

“Here, this one is for you. It's non-alcoholic.” Ginny pressed close to Hermione’s ear to be heard over the din of the crowded bar. “Do you want to make the announcement now? I got a drink for Harry too so we can all toast once you are ready.”

Hermione took a deep breath, not expecting to be hit with this quite so quickly after arriving. She took a moment to clear her throat. “Okay, I'll go ahead and make the announcement.”

“Hey!” Ginny’s voice rang out, loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Hermione wants to make an announcement!”

Hermione’s face turned bright red as all eyes quickly turned to her. “Um…well….You all probably have already heard, or already know if you are family, but, I'm expecting.” An awkward smile was the best she could manage. The Weasleys already knowing made it easier though she was still nervous about the reactions of her friends.

Luna was the first to break the looming silence that held for several moments after Hermione’s announcement. “Congratulations Hermione! You will be a wonderful mum!”

“Thanks Luna.” Hermione’s smile turned more genuine.

“To New Beginnings!” Harry shouted after a fierce elbow to the ribs from Ginny.

“To New Beginnings!” The cheer went up and everyone took deep drinks of their Butterbeers.

Hermione took a tentative sip of her drink, noting that the soda with cranberry was quite refreshing after subsisting on ginger tea and water most of the last few months. As the conversations around her began again her friends made their way around to wish her congratulations again and to offer well wishes.

Ginny left and returned with more drinks, another soda cranberry for Hermione and Butterbeers for the rest of them. Hermione had just placed her mouth on the straw when she felt a looming presence next to her. Turning, drink in hand, she saw the shock of white blond hair and black clothing she was becoming very familiar with. Hermione choked at the sudden surprise of seeing Malfoy hovering next to her, so close she could feel the heat coming from him as he glowered down at her.

Malfoy flicked away the liquid that Hermione had coughed onto his shoes and chest with a quick, wandless, scourgify. Giving her a moment to compose herself.

“What do you think you are doing?” He growled.

Hermione could feel Ginny stiffen behind her, and from the corner of her eye noted her friends going on alert.

“Granger, do not make me repeat myself.” Malfoy’s voice became even harsher.

“Malfoy, we, everyone met up tonight to celebrate.” Her hand dropped to the small swell of her belly, more pronounced but still hidden in her robes.

“I gathered.” His left eye began to twitch.

Harry pushed Ginny behind him and took position next to Hermione while Ron pushed to stand just across the table, hands twitching but not quite on their wants, yet.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, his Auror training showing.

“That is what I would also like to know.” Malfoy’s voice was louder, snide, but no less menacing. “Do you often encourage pregnant witches to drink, Potter?”

Harry turned a quizzical glance at Hermione, uncertain.

Ginny took the moment to lean over Hermione’s shoulder. “What’s it to you, Ferret? She can do whatever she wants!”

Malfoy's hand was a blur as it closed around the glass in Hermione’s hand as he jerked it away and vanished it in one smooth move. He was so fast that none of those standing around had even had a chance to pull their wands before the drink had disappeared.

“Wha…” Hermione had a split second to react before every Weasley’s, and Harry’s wands were out. She quickly crowded closer to Malfoy, blocking any direct lines to his person. “Malfoy, what do you think you are doing?”

“Preventing you from harming an unborn baby by drinking while pregnant.”

The three closest to her seemed to all speak at the same time.

“Bloody Hell!” Sounded from Ron.

“Back off Malfoy!” From Harry.

“Fuck off Ferret!” From Ginny.

Hermione reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, wincing at how tender it was from constantly staunching her nosebleeds. “It was a bloody soda cranberry Malfoy. Non-alcoholic. What do you take me for?” Dropping her hand she quickly turned, still using her body as a shield. “It's okay everyone. Just a misunderstanding.” She could tell that it would take more than that to calm the rage that simmered in the eyes of all of the redheads at the table. “Um, Malfoy helped me connect to a midwife after I had an issue with the clinic. He introduced me to Astoria Greengrass. He, um, saw the drink in my hand and overreacted.” She threw a glare at Malfoy over her shoulder on the last word. “Now that he knows that it was just a soda cranberry he can rest easy.” Turning sideways to look Malfoy in the eye she finished. “He was just leaving.”

The wands of her family slowly lowered as Malfoy took a step back.

“My deepest apologies Granger.” Malfoy almost managed the words without a sneer. Before he turned in a most Snape-like fashion, robes billowed behind him as he made his way from the pub.

Ginny was the first to break the silence. “What a weirdo.”

“I think it is rather sweet that he was concerned,” Luna chirped.

“Are you okay Hermione?” Harry asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, I'm alright,” she nodded slowly.

“Where does he get off doing something like that?” Ron fumed.

“It's okay,” Hermione waved a hand in front of herself dismissing the interaction. “Um, how is the Ministry Quidditch team doing?” She quickly jumped to a topic she knew would get the attention of most of the people around her. She could care less about Quidditch but knew it was a safe topic. She placed her own emotions regarding the interaction into a box, telling herself she would deal with them, and him, later.

The rest of the evening went without incident. Someone fetched another soda cranberry for Hermione which she sipped at slowly, if only for something to do with her hands. After another hour she started making her way around to begin her goodbyes. Noting that Harry and Ginny were still engrossed in conversation she assured them she would be fine getting home on her own. Her flat was only a few blocks and she would get a cab if she needed to.

Making her way out of the pub she couldn't help the prickle that hit the back of her neck. She walked quickly to the Leaky, her wand in her hand, tucked into her robes. Once she made it out into Muggle London she called a cab, not wanting the stress and anxiety of the walk home to make sleep even harder to come by.

Chapter 31

The cab pulled up to the curb before Hermione's flat. As Hermione opened the door to the crisp night air, she caught the telltale scent of blood and lunged for the door to her building. She thanked Merlin that she paid the cabby before exiting the vehicle as she rushed up the stairs, muttering a quick episkey to staunch the flow from her nose.

She had been doing her best to avoid magicing away the symptoms of pregnancy, knowing that spells that she cast that effected her body resulted in diminishing returns during pregnancy. It was an odd thing that she had read many theories on but no concrete evidence of actual cause. The leading theories were based on the magical core of the fetus interfering with the magical core of the mother and strengthening of the fetus with repeated exposure to the mother's magic. She hoped that this once wouldn't cause too many issues as she saved as much as she could for delivery. Healing charms were fine when cast by someone else, just not when she was casting them on herself.

With the spell the bleeding stopped so she slowed on the steps, taking her time as to not get winded or light headed. Once she had made it to her flat she moved to the bathroom, wetting a cloth to wipe her face before pulling off her robes and dress clothes and getting ready for bed. She had told Gimyn that morning that she was going out and to not wait for her that night. As much as she had grown to hold deep affection for the little fellow she breathed a sigh of relief at having the flat to herself for the night.

Once changed, she went straight to bed. She was exhausted from the day and wanted nothing more than to sleep. One more day until the weekend. She started slightly. When did she start counting down the days until the weekend? She had always loved her job, and working, even if she felt like she was fighting an uphill battle some days… Honestly more often than not now that people were becoming more comfortable expressing themselves since the war had ended.

She mulled over that for a moment. Debating internally whether it was truly a change in others, or a change in herself that she was seeing. After long moments her mind wandered to the encounter with Malfoy. What was he doing at the pub? He must have been mad to make such a public scene tonight. Wasn't he afraid of others finding out? He talked a great talk, but his actions were far from a public claiming in the Wizarding world. What would raising their child look like if he didn't want the public to know of their involvement? Would he simply ignore that she existed or keep their interactions tucked behind closed doors? Wanting to be involved with their child didn't necessarily mean wanting to be involved with her.

Hermione’s mind swam with these thoughts until, finally, she forced herself to stop. These questions and concerns weren't anything she could answer without talking to Malfoy about them. Rolling onto her side she tried to sleep and huffed in annoyance when her mind continued to spin with worries about the future.

After nearly an hour of trying to sleep without any success Hermione rolled over, swiped her wand from the nightstand, and cast.

She felt a presence at the foot of her bed as the blankets slowly drug down her body to expose her to the cool air in the room. Two hands gripped her ankles and pulled her, bodily, to the end of the bed. She registered the heat from her conjured lover's body against her legs as they dangled from the edge of the bed, his torso pressed between her knees. She felt long fingers burrow beneath the waistband of her shorts, slowly pulling them down her legs.

A mouth pressed to her lower belly, exposed from where her night shirt had gathered just under her breasts. “You drive me mad,” was growled against the mound of her belly as his hands continued to pull her shorts from her feet.

That growl was far too familiar and Hermione shook it from her mind as quickly as she could. She gasped as the lips moved lower to where she craved him most. A warm, wet tongue traced along her slit, slowly pressing until it rubbed against her clit. A low growl emerged from him causing vibrations to make her jerk with pleasure. A long finger pressed inside her and hooked just the right way to hit that spot inside her, rubbing against it slowly.

Her hands dug into soft hair as she pressed her hips forward into the tongue laving at her clit. A low moan escaped her.

“Yes, let me hear you.” She felt his lips graze her clit as the words growled out of him.

“Please, please, more.” Hermione breathed. Her head was thrown back and she drew her knees up so her heels rested on the edge of the mattress. She was able to grind harder into his face and finger as she felt her orgasm approaching.

Just as she became close the apparition began to fade. Losing all substance her hands fell along with the ecstacy that had been building in her core. A whimper escaped her and she lunged for the finger vibe and insertable that were now always charged and ready in her bedside table. Switching them on she reached down and teased the head through her slit, getting it sufficiently wet to begin gently thrusting it inside her cunt. Angling it just so to hit her g- spot as she flicked on the finger vibe and began circling her clit. She fantasized he was still watching her from the end of the bed. Egging her on with filthy words.

“Come for me Angel. I want to see your pussy clenching for me. I want to see how good it is going to feel when it is wrapped around my cock. I want to be inside you, fucking you. Are you going to be good for me Angel? Are you going to make yourself come?”

Her fantasy barrage of words combined with her toys and the incredible work up got her there. She curled up as the orgasm hit her core, a guttural moan escaping as she came. She quickly jerked her hands away as her core became excruciatingly sensitive.

Hermione lay panting for several minutes before she set her bed back to rights and quickly fell into sleep.

______

The next morning Hermione joined Gimyn in the kitchen. Another spinach and feta omelet with bits of steak in it on the plate in front of her. The small elf bustled about the kitchen, preparing her lunch and snacks for the day. He still packed a few nausea potions in her bag, though she had needed them less and less in the last few days. She was grateful that ordeal of her pregnancy seemed to be over.

“Gimyn?”

“Yes Miss?” Gimyn turned on the stool he was standing on at the counter. As always, dressed impeccably. Today he was sporting one of the bowties she had purchased for him which made her smile.

“Oh! I love that bowtie. It looks great on you.”

The small elf blushed heavily and tugged at it. “Thank you Miss. Gimyn quite likes this one.”

“Me too,” Hermione followed it with a kind smile. “Could I ask a favor of you?”

“Certainly miss!” He chirped.

“It is very important. I need to speak with Malfoy, Draco, tonight. Could you please ask him to come? I need to speak with him privately. Would you mind terribly staying at the Manor if he comes over tonight?”

“Of course Miss. Gimyn will tell Master Malfoy and stay at the Manor.” A quick nod before, “is there anything else Gimyn can do for Miss?”

“No Gimyn. Thank you for all of your help. I appreciate you.”

His cheeks and ears turned a brilliant red again and he turned back to his task. Hermione went back to her breakfast, finishing it before heading out to work and wishing Gimyn a good day.

She managed her workday amongst competing priorities. It seemed that, by Friday morning, everyone had found things they needed done before the weekend. By Friday afternoons everyone had left early though and rarely responded to her messages until the next week. She felt it was a successful day though and completed without a nosebleed. She would take it.

The walk home was another trial in her paranoia. This time she could swear that, not only did she have intuition of a presence, but that she felt it on more than one occasion when others tried to brush past her too closely and almost seemed repelled by an unseen force. Her eyes narrowed at the slight wavering of a form on more than one occasion in the afternoon light. Disillusionment? If Malfoy had put Gimyn up to this she would give him a piece of her mind. There was no need for the elf to expend so much energy needlessly protecting her at his Master’s orders.

When she arrived at her flat, she quickly slammed the door behind her calling for Gimyn as she made her way through the living room to the kitchen. The small elf was up to his elbows in flour.

“Have you been following me?”

His large eyes rounded upon seeing her. “Following, Miss?” Trepidation in his face.

“Yes, have you been following me to and from work Gimyn? I understand it's not your choice if you were ordered to. I just need to know if you have been following me to and from work everyday.”

Gimyn shook his head slowly, as if afraid to move. “No Miss, Gimyn has been here. Gimyn has never been out in Muggle London.”

Hermione wanted to press him but knew it would end poorly if he thought she was mad at him. “Okay, thank you for answering my question. I'm sorry I was so, abrupt, when I first walked in. I'm going to go change. Did Malfoy say if he would be coming over this evening?”

As the last words fell from her mouth a knock sounded at the front door. Hermione turned on her heel, a twinge of guilt striking her for how she had treated Gimyn, and stalked to the door to check the peephole before admitting a one Draco Malfoy to her flat.

“That was quick.” One eyebrow arched as she took in the blond standing on her doorstep.

“I was close. Gimyn said you wanted to meet?”

“Yes, I do.” Hermione turned aggressively down the hallway. Flinging her hand behind Malfoy to shut the door and engage the locks once the crossed the threshold. “I'm changing, I'll be back in a moment.”

Hermione all but stomped to her bedroom. She felt like all of the fury she had boxed up and pushed down was on the verge of escaping and she took a moment to try and calm it with deep breaths. After a full two minutes with no success she quickly jerked at her clothes, removing them hastily and grabbing joggers and a shirt to drag on. She dug her fingers into her hair, tugging it by the roots for a moment as she closed her eyes, taking another few deep breaths before rounding on the door and stomping into the living room as her fury only seemed to grow.

Malfoy’s trademark smirk caught her as she rounded the corner and that was all it took to set her off. Finger raised she came at Malfoy who was standing in front of the hearth, on the other side of the coffee table.

“First off, You can't just walk out on me every time you get upset, Malfoy. How do you expect us to ever properly deal with anything if you just disappear every time we come to a disagreement or I ask for clarification? Also, you can't just show up in front of my friend's berating me for a perceived poor decision and expect them to just be okay with it. You also need to trust me. I am an adult. I've made it this far just fine. I need you to trust that I can take care of this child. Lastly, I'm not sure what kind of watchdog you have following me around, but it ends. Today!”

Malfoy stood across the coffee table from her as she moved to stand in front of the couch. The small table a buffer of sorts. He looked down at her as if he was looking down his nose. She knew she must be a site. Her hair was certainly frizzed around her face and the comfortable clothes she had changed into stretched to accommodate the mound that was her belly.

She took a breath and when he didn't respond she continued, some of the fire vanished from her tone as it became a bit more lost. “ I think at this point it is up to you to make a decision. If you want to be involved in this child's life then I need to know and you need to show it, not just throw money at it. If you want to be involved in my life, I need to know. If you want nothing to do with me then I need to know. I can't keep doing this wishy washy bullshit. So, what do you want, Malfoy?”

He stood there, taking a deep breath before opening his mouth. “Are you quite done?”

Hermione gasped at outrage but didn't say anything.

“First, a disagreement or request for clarification are quite more mild than the arguments we have had where I have excused myself before becoming even more irate. Second, your friends are of a little consequence to me. How you explain things to them is your own decision. Thirdly, the only reason you have made it this far is through a combination of dumb luck and divine intervention as I fail to believe that only one of them could have successfully kept you alive up until now. Your blatant disregard for your own health has had me more than a little concerned on several occasions. As far as chaperoning you to and from work, daily, you are welcome.” He took a moment to evaluate the fury rolling off of her before continuing. “Now, in regard to what, I, want. I want to be involved in your life and our child's life. I would like to court you as you deserve and, hopefully, determine we are as good a match as I anticipate being, leading to you becoming the next Lady Malfoy.”

Hermione spluttered at his bold statement, taking long moments to find any words before she muttered, “I would very much like to throw something at you right now.”

“I would never throw anything at you.” Malfoy’s response was calm and clipped.

“I said that I would like to, not that I would. I'm not barbaric.” Hermione sniped back.

“So it is established then. I will begin courting you. How public, you would like to make this arrangement will be your choice.” Malfoy ended with a firm nod to his head.

Hermione let a sharp breath out of her nose before feeling the telltale trickle along her upper lip. “Damnit,” she muttered as she clutched at her nose and ran for the bathroom.

Grabbing a wad of toilet paper she pressed it to her nose as she pinched along the bridge. At this point she did it so often that the skin there was bruised and had to be charmed to hide the discoloration. She felt Malfoy come behind her, his hands on her hips as he guided her back to sit on the toilet and lean forward to prevent the blood from coating the back of her throat. A quick wandless cast from Malfoy and the small burst vessel healed. He proceeded to wet a cloth in the sink and pull the wad of paper from Hermione’s face as he gently dabbed the blood away, muttering a quick charm to heal the bruising he noted from the repeated nosebleeds.

“Is this normal Granger?” His voice was low, concerned.

“Yes, Astoria reassured me that it is completely normal. Something to do with the extra blood and thinning of the vessels during pregnancy.”

He grimaced, “how do you handle these when I’m not around?”

“Well, usually by applying pressure and staunching the flow until it stops.”

“You aren’t using healing charms because…?” His silvery grey eyes bore into hers with the question.

“As I am sure you are aware,” Hermione’s voice took on the swotty tone she often had during their years at school. “Using magic on oneself during pregnancy is a game of diminishing returns. I am reserving any and all healing spells for if, when, I truly need them. A nosebleed hardly warrants that much concern.”

Malfoy smirked at her tone until her words sunk in. “You mean you haven’t healed anything thus far?”

It was Hermione’s turn to grimace. “I did once. One hit the other night when I got out of the cab after the party…where you so rudely interrupted us to question the contents of my drink. What is wrong with you Malfoy? You don’t tell the elves because you are afraid of their gossip but then you pull something like that in front of all of my friends? Why were you even there to begin with?”

Malfoy sat back on his heels, still on the bathroom floor in front of Hermione as she sat on the closed toilet seat. “I was concerned that you didn’t want anyone to know. That is why I was being careful with the elves. As far as your friends go, what you tell them, or don’t, is your prerogative. though, if I am to court you I’m sure it will eventually come out. Unless, of course, you intend to keep me your dirty little secret. We’ve already covered the reason why I was at the pub. Someone needs to be your keeper.”

Hermione stared at him for a long moment before moving to stand, straddling awkwardly before picking up her foot to escape the bathroom, almost kicking Malfoy in the face in the process. She payed no mind though as she rubbed her face with both hands and made her way to the couch, collapsing in exhaustion even though she hadn’t been home more than an hour at that point. The sun still streamed in through the windows of her flat.

Malfoy had followed her, gracefully folding himself into the opposite corner of the couch from her. “It seems like there has been a fair amount of supposition on each of our parts. What else do you want to know Granger?” He asked as he drug a hand through his hair, toseling it in an attractive way which made Hermione feel even more unkept.

“Can I clarify some things first?”

Malfoy waved his hand between them, giving her permission.

“So, you and Astoria aren’t together. You are colleagues who help each other with work?”

“Yes.” Malfoy’s voice was clipped as his mouth and eyes tightened in reaction.

“You’ve been following me around, most specifically back and forth to work, daily?”

Malfoy nodded, a wariness now accompanying the tightness in his features.

“And, because the clinic messed up and I’m now carrying your baby you want to….court me?”

Malfoy’s lips pursed at that, accompanied by a slight shake to his head. He drew a sharp breath before opening his mouth, closing it, and then opening it again. “You may find this hard to believe, but I’ve been attracted to you for a long time Granger. I think part of the reason I was so hateful to you was because I was attracted to you. I was confused by it. I had always been taught that muggles were, less, inferior. I struggled to marry what was ingrained as part of my upbringing with the fact that this, amazingly, infuriatingly intelligent girl, who bested me in nearly every subject, interested me. I assumed, after the war, that I would be alone forever. That I would be the end of the Malfoy and Black lines. Then, when the mix up happened, and you insisted, demanded, to have this child, I think it gave me hope. Spending time with you again, it reminded me how intriguing I found you. You, how your mind works, how you approach things logically but still feel things deeply, are all things that fascinate me. Your strength is something I admire. All of that makes me want to continue getting to know you and, possibly, moving forward into an official courtship.”

“Earlier you said you want to court me, now you are saying move forward with an official courtship?” Hermione took a deep breath, feeling the heat as it built in her chest alongside her confusion at his words. “What exactly are you saying Malfoy?” she demanded.

Malfoy nodded slowly, as if realizing that his words likely were confusing for someone unfamiliar with pureblood customs. “Courting is like, dating. An official courtship, that would be more like an engagement. Many pureblood families insist on betrothals so an official courtship is typically when a gift of intent is exchanged.”

Hermione’s lips pulled tight as she nodded slowly, wrapping her head around the concept.

“So this isn’t just because of the baby and some antiquated idea that you should be with the mother of your offspring?”

Malfoy let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Much to my mother’s chagrin, I’ve given up nearly all attachment to antiquated ideals. No, Granger. My interest in you is solely for you, because of you. I think I would want to have some involvement in any child of mine’s life, but I am only interested in you because of you.”

Hermione nodded again, taking a moment to absorb all of the information. “Okay, I have one more question.”

Malfoy smirked and nodded, knowing that she likely had more than just one, or would have.

“In the clinic, you said, inferred” Hermione waved her hand in the air between the two words uncertain of the correct one. “That you were a virgin?”

Malfoy’s eyes rounded. Not expecting that question at all. Heat flooded his cheeks and he knew that they were bright red at her forward question. A slight cough escaped him when he opened his mouth before he could utter a sound. Closing his eyes and shaking his head he answered, “Yes, that is correct.”

“Why?”

Malfoy took a long moment to evaluate Hermione’s features before answering. Her eyes were wide, her features open and honest with no indication of hatred or vindication. He cleared his throat before answering.

“Pureblood families do have many antiquated ideals. One such is that if a witch is to become pregnant then the wizard will be forced to marry her. Because I was betrothed, it was, impressed upon me at a very young age, that the only fail proof way to eliminate the chance of an unwanted pregnancy was to abstain. Prevention was never an option discussed. I abstained out of duty until I broke off the betrothal to Astoria. Once our betrothal was broken I couldn’t bear the idea of being with someone who fetishized me for the mark on my arm and those who didn’t fetishize it found it so abhorrent that they refused to touch me.” Malfoy took a breath but quickly continued. “I don’t say this to gain any pity or sympathy, just answering your question.”

He seemed to look anywhere but at her once he finished speaking. Hermione reached out, grazing his hand with her own in a barely there touch.

“Does my scar offend you? Does it make you feel any of those things?” Hermione lifted her forearm, twisted to expose her inner elbow and the word still visible there. The scar still looked fresh, even after all these years.

Malfoy’s eyes found the pink letters, raising his hand so his index finger gently grazed against her skin. “No,” his voice was barely a whisper.

Hermione nodded, a tight, sad smile crossing her face as they finally met each other’s eyes.

After a moment Hermione dropped her arm, dropping the contact. “Okay, so, next thing.”

Malfoy took her que to break the sudden tension. “I thought that was your last question?” A light smirk found his mouth.

“You would never be so lucky.” Hermione met his eyes with a grin of her own. “Next thing…” She looked at him coyly with raised eyebrows. “How am I to be helping you and Astoria?”

Chapter 32

Summary:

Such wonderful smut in this chapter.

So sorry for the delay. Trying to let my hand heal has had my writing slowed quite annoyingly.

Thank you for being patient. :)

Malfoy's breath escaped him in a rush. “Well, we were planning to meet in the Manor library in the morning to work on compiling information. I think adding your account would be very helpful to include.”

“Outside of the error with the, erm….sample,” her lips twisted at the word, “what else are you referring to?”

Malfoy’s lips twisted similarly before he responded. “I think it would be best to have Astoria explain since she is a healer. I did run compositional analysis of the potions you provided and, there were some, concerns.” He nearly choked on the last word, his cheeks brightening and his eyes hardening with what Hermione thought was anger.

One of Hermione's eyebrows twitched as she went for a safer subject, not quite willing to think that she had been duped into something unsafe by a medical professional. “Is this another way you help Astoria? By analyzing potions?”

Malfoy nodded quickly, happy for the reprieve from a topic that inspired such anger. “Yes, with my Potions Mastery I do freelance work for several entities and individuals on potion analysis and anti-potion treatments.”

“Does that keep you very busy?” Hermione’s eyes became shrewd though Malfoy couldn't quite determine her intent with her line of questioning.

“It fascinates me but isn't commonly needed. I do still brew quite often for my apothecary businesses though.” Malfoy’s words were careful but clear. He obviously thought he wasn't giving any information away that was important.

“Businesses such as M.B. Apothecary?”

Malfoy’s eyes rounded as he put things together far too slowly. He folded his lips in between his teeth for a moment before answering. “Um, yes, that is one of them.” One hand moved to scratch at the back of his neck as he bowed his head, chagrined.

“Going forward, no more manipulation Malfoy. If you need something or want something, you need to come and talk to me. I think you'll find that I can be reasonable.”

A very short chuckle escaped Malfoy before he slammed a hand over his mouth. The moment earning him a glare from Hermione. He quickly tried to change the subject.

“Tomorrow,” he gave a short nod. “The Manor?”

Hermione’s lips pinched. “I'm sorry, I don't think I can. I will help with what you need from me. I just, I don't think I can go there. Not right now anyway. Besides, I'm at the point where I shouldn't floo or apparate and I am not getting on a death stick.”

Malfoy’s head twitched to the side, much like a perplexed spaniel, brows furrowed. “A, death stick?”

“Yes, a death stick. I recall you are quite fond of them and I'm letting you know now, it's not going to happen.” Hermione’s words were decisive.

A very uncultured guffaw escaped Malfoy. “You mean, a broom?”

Hermione’s glare came again. “Yes, that's what I said, a death stick.”

Malfoy shook his head. At least there was one thing he didn't have to worry about. If she never flew on a broom, he wouldn't have to worry about her falling.

“What if we brought the books here? Gimyn and Dogan would be happy to transport any texts we need. That is, if you don't mind us taking over your living room for the day.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course. I'll let Astoria know to meet here tomorrow. We can work on everything together.”

Hermione gave her head a small nod. “Okay, I think. I think I would like that.” She turned her face to Malfoy with a smile.

Malfoy glanced at the changing sky outside the window. “I had best be going. I will see you in the morning. 9’o’clock?”

Hermione allowed a soft smile to grace her lips as he stood from his seat on the couch. “Yes, 9 should be fine.”

Malfoy moved around the coffee table to the floo, turning just before stepping into the flames to see Hermione pull the blanket from the back of the couch and over her legs that she tucked beneath her.

“Granger?”

Hermione looked up from the book she had picked up from the side table next to the couch. “Yes?”

“I’m here if you need anything. Please, don’t hesitate to call me, for anything.” He looked over to her, head slightly downcast as his silver eyes peered through his impossibly long lashes.

An odd twist came to Hermione’s mouth at the request. A very unconvincing, “sure,” escaped her lips.

 

—--

She sat and read a non-research, non-work related text for a bit over an hour before beginning to feel rather restless. Gimyn had appeared shortly after Malfoy left, busily bustling about the kitchen while humming a tune known only to him. Hermione fetched her wand, having left it in the other room in her haste and fury. Giving herself a self depreciating smile and eye roll she went about tidying the space and configuring her coffee table into a table better fit for studying. It was a bit of a snug fit in her small flat but by shrinking her couch and configuring her kitchen chairs into something a bit more comfortable and fitting for the table. Gimyn, of course, offered his rebuttal at her work, citing that it was more appropriate of his duties than for Hermione to do such things herself. She had to tiptoe, gently around the elf’s ego to ensure that he did not feel put out of a task. She assured him that she was merely needing something to do, she was becoming too stiff and agitated by sitting around. Gimyn finally conceded when Hermione offered that she would greatly appreciate his help moving texts from the Malfoy library since she could not travel there herself. He was elated at a special task just for him and promised to do his best when he served her dinner, conceding to eat with her after much convincing on her part.

After dinner Hermione excused herself to indulge in a bath. She missed the scalding baths she had enjoyed in the past, however the Muggle book on pregnancy had discouraged such luxuries for the safety of the child. She took her book with her, hoping to settle her agitation with bubbles, candles, a charm to keep her bathwater at the right temperature and a romance. This one, in particular, had come highly recommended. A dashing hero and smart, sassy heroine working together in secret to take down an evil dictator and his army of followers. The heroine, a seemingly purchased sex slave, worked to liberate her friends alongside a man who had loved her for years. She rather enjoyed the plot as well as the predicaments the two found themselves in time and again as they worked together to make their charade as convincing as possible.

After a time she found herself horribly aroused but also dozing. Pulling the plug she rose from the bathwater before quickly spraying the bubbles from her skin with the showerhead. Watching the bubbles circle the drain she lowered the detachable head, switching the settings with her thumb to a steady stream as she angled it towards her needy clit. Careful to keep the stream on the tissue surrounding her sensitive bud she rolled her hips into the pressure, feeling it build slowly in her core. Godrick she was so horny. While she has always thought her sex drive was average, pregnancy apparently had driven her sex mad. Her ongoing dry spell doing nothing to help the situation, she was certain.

Using the fingers of her unoccupied hand she pressed them into the flesh of her mons in a V shape, using the digits to pull apart her outer lips, exposing the pink inner flesh to the spray. A soft cry escaped her that she quickly sealed her mouth around, not wanting to alert her small elf companion to what she was doing.

That thought came like a douse of cold water as she realized that Gimyn was likely still there and her rising orgasm quickly died. Huffing in frustration she quickly turned off the water and grabbed a towel to blot herself dry. A sour look met her when she flipped on the light and met her gaze in the mirror. Pink cheeks, swollen lips from nibbling at them with her teeth, and a wholly unsatisfied scowl completed her post-bath attempt at relaxation. Shaking her head at herself, a gesture she was doing far too often, she quickly washed her face and applied moisturizer before putting an oversized shirt on and wrapping herself up in the fluffy robe that hung on the back of her bathroom door.

Looking into the living room she noted stacks of tomes on the configured table in the living room. Gimyn quickly appeared with another stack.

“Oh goodness Gimyn! There are so many!”

“Yes Miss!” Gimyn’s eyes sparkled. “Master Malfoy has pulled many. These are the texts Gimyn, Dogan, and Master Malfoy believes to be most beneficial for tomorrow.”

Hermione nodded, her eyes wide at the towers of books. “Great job Gimyn. I am going to go to bed. Do you have much more to bring?”

“Oh noes Miss. This is the last. Good night Miss. Gimyn is off to bed. Gimyn will have breakfast ready for Miss in the morning. Would Miss like to have Gimyn wake her up at any particular time?”

“Thank you Gimyn but I will set an alarm. Malfoy and Astoria will be here at 9. If you would be able to have tea and some snacks available I would appreciate it. Goodnight Gimyn.”

“Goodnight Miss!”

Gimyn quickly disappeared, leaving Hermione to retreat to her bedroom. Pushing the door up she pulled her robe from her shoulders and hung it on the hook behind her door before turning down the covers and climbing into her bed. The fan above her head spun, offering a delightfully cool breeze against her skin as she registered the tingling between her legs and the heaviness of her breasts that hadn’t entirely eased from her failed attempt at pleasuring herself in the shower.

Tired, irritated, and horny, she quickly pulled both of the toys from her side table and slid down the bed. The sheets grabbed at the back of her oversized shirt, causing it to ride up to just below her breasts. She quickly rose, dragging it from her head and arms and tossing it to the floor. Irritation removing any sense of propriety. She would sleep naked tonight if only she could achieve an orgasm, and the deep sleep she knew would follow.

She began teasing her breasts, pinching lightly at her now excruciatingly sensitive nipples and kneading the swollen flesh before skating one hand down over the swell of her belly to trace idly over the flesh between her legs. A quick twitch of her finger had the small vibrator engaging, causing her to gasp at the sudden intensity of sensation that circled her clit. Rolling her hips she grabbed the small insertable and flipped on the vibrations as she teased the opening of her cunt with small circles. She worked to build her pleasure slowly, hoping that with patience her body would achieve orgasm tonight.

After what felt like forever, and having to remove the vibrators several times due to losing sensation from the excess of them before beginning again, Hermione huffed out in frustration. Rolling to her side and snatching her wand in apparent frustration she quickly cast the lovers charm. Magic be damned she needed to come.

She instantly felt hands part her thighs and a very familiar voice croon, “hmm, my Angel is so needy tonight. Already dripping for me. Have you already made yourself come Angel?”

“Nooo!” Hermione’s voice came out a frustrated moan. “Please, please. I need to come. I can’t.” She was surprised to find tears had began to leak from the corners of her eyes as her body trembled in frustration.

Lips quickly pressed to the tears. “Oh, Princess, I have you. Let me take care of you.” The penetrating vibrator in her cunt clicked back on, angling to press against the front wall of her sex and rub against the needy spot inside her while she felt the weight of her phantom lover move to press between her legs. A soft tongue lapped at her smooth flesh, circling her clit and teasing, causing her to cry out. A soft mouth slanting over her flesh, sucking while his lips massaged the swollen tissue beneath her clit, allowing his tongue to focus on the little bud. Hermione cried out, loud and with such force her abdominals drew her chest up off of the bed, curling against the sudden onslaught and intense pleasure that wracked her flesh. She was getting close, so close. Just as she reached the precipice she felt a sharp jolt not unlike a 9 volt battery against a tongue, and her conjured lover was no more. Her vibrating toys had also stopped working, seemingly fried by the sudden backlash of magic. Realizing what happened Hermione cried out in frustration and anger, throwing the vibrators towards the door, causing them to shatter on the ground before it. She snatched the pillow next to her, clutching it to her face as she screamed then began to sob in earnest. She had been so close, just a few more moments…

Before she had time to react she heard a loud crack and her door flew back to bang against the wall. “What happened?”

Hermione threw the pillow from her face, snatching her wand before quickly realizing that Malfoy stood, wand drawn, in the doorway of her room. His boots crunched on broken plastic as his eyes cast quickly around the room then settled on her, taking in her disheveled, naked form on the bed before looking down at the floor and noting the broken plastic and batteries that crunched beneath his boots. He raised his head to look back at Hermione just in time to find a pillow flying towards his face.

It bounced off of him, landing over the debris on the floor, just a few feet from a discarded shirt. Hermione was quickly grabbing the sheet to her chest before turning her blazing eyes to Malfoy.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” She seethed.

At the same time Malfoy spoke, “Are you okay?”

They spoke again at the same time.

“I was fine until you barged into my room.”

“Gimyn alerted me that something was wrong.”

Both of their eyes narrowed on the other. Both opened their mouths to speak again. This time, Malfoy smartly stopped before they spoke at the same time again.

“Gimyn is at the Manor.”

“Yes, he is now. I told him to stay after he alerted me that something was wrong.”

“No, Gimyn is staying at the Manor. I don’t have a place for him here yet. I asked him to stay there until I had a place for him.”

Malfoy’s trademark smirk graced his too handsome face. “What exactly did he say when you asked him to stay at the Manor?”

Fury still burned in Hermione’s eyes though they calmed a bit as she thought back to the conversation with the small elf. “Something like, ‘As Miss Commands.’”

Malfoy’s smirk turned into a full on smile. “Except you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” The anger in Hermione’s voice had only ebbed slightly.

“Command. You didn’t command him. He has been staying here for weeks now.”

“What?” Hermione’s voice was shrill with something Malfoy couldn’t quite figure out if his face was anything to go by.

“The House Elves are essentially free and will do what they see fit unless given a specific command. You didn’t command him. He has been doing as he sees fit.”

Hermione dropped her head into her hands. “Oh no, Oh no, Oh no.” Her voice was muffled and what could be seen of her face was red in embarrassment.

Malfoy stepped forward, the crunch of ruined plastic beneath his boots had her looking up at him again, noting the green quidditch jersey he wore over black briefs and hastily shoved into boots that weren’t tied. She watched him as he made his way to sit, facing her, at the end of the bed.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft, cajoling even.

“I’m never going to be able to look at, or speak with him again.” Her voice was despondent.

“Why, Granger?”

“Because…I…well….I haven’t been good at using silencing charms.” Her cheeks flared red again, feeling neon in the darkness of her bedroom.

“Silencing….oh, Oh!” Malfoy seemed to be picking up on her meaning very slowly. In his defence he looked like he had just been woken up. “Um, the House Elves don’t, um, well, I’m sure they’ve heard, well, let’s just say, it doesn’t seem to bother them.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she raised her head to gape at him. “Oh God.” An awkward, embarrassed giggle escaped her. “He,” She cleared her throat to try to hide her hysterical giggles. “He, called you here? Because he heard something?”

Malfoy’s hand raised to rub at the back of his neck. “He said that you sounded….distressed.”

“Oh God,” another round of hysterical laughter escaped Hermione. She huffed as she fell back onto her pillow, quickly snatching at the sheet to ensure it covered her breasts. “Distressed?”

“Are you, Okay Granger?”

“No, I’m quite not.” She said between the hands that had crept up to cover her face again, the sheet fiercely clenched between her arms and her torso.

“Would you please tell me what is wrong?”

Hermione pulled her hands down and thrust them to the bed, thumping them against the mattress. Tears glittered along her lashes and streaks of wet ran down her temples to her hair.

“What’s wrong.” Hermione’s voice took on a lost quality. “What’s wrong is that my little elf spy called you in here after I had a spectacular tantrum because I broke my sex toys in a fit of rage after failing to orgasm for the third time in one evening. All I want is some bloody sleep.” Her eyes gazed blankly at the ceiling, refusing to meet his gaze after everything that had just been shared between the two of them in the span of the past few minutes.

Malfoy nodded, the motion caught at the periphery of her vision. The sound of his tongue sucking at his teeth was loud in the dark of her bedroom. “Has your, nightly ritual, been to masturbate?”

Hermione’s cheeks blazed in the darkness. Her face turning pitiful, as if admitting this was something shameful. “Yes.”

Malfoy nodded again. “I offered to help, anything you need. May I help you Hermione?”

Hermione’s head popped up from her pillow, her eyes wide again as she met his grey ones. “Help?” She all but squeaked.

Malfoy moved, slow and deliberate, as he pressed his weight to his hands that now rested on either side of her outstretched calves. “Help. You need to sleep. I can help you sleep.”

“Godric, you can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.” His voice was soft, a low grumble cajoling her into agreement. “Let me take care of you?” He continued to move up the bed, his hands having moved to either side of her hips now.

Hermione pressed up to her elbows, keeping the sheet taught against her chest. “You can’t possibly…” She was caught by surprise as his lips pressed to hers. So familiar and yet new. Soft and warm, pressing firmly to her lips before he nipped at her full lower lip.

“I can. Please, let me.” His voice was a whisper before pressing back to her lips. A low moan escaped Hermione as her arms moved and her fingers twisted into the short hair at the nape of his neck. His body pressed down into hers as she arched into him, the friction against her nipples causing her to gasp, allowing his tongue to explore into her mouth.

A low growl escaped him as his tongue found hers, rubbing gently against hers, curling and pressing. Her hips lifted, trying to find pressure. He slid one of his legs between hers, allowing her to find friction on his thigh as he held himself with one arm and used his available hand to slide against her scalp and pull her further into his kiss. He rubbed his thigh between hers in opposition to her grinding. A small whimper escaping her throat as he broke the kiss.

“Please, please.” Hermione ground against him, her eyes squeezed shut as she threw her head back on the pillow giving his mouth access to her neck. He took full advantage, kissing a trail along her jaw and down the side of her neck, nipping gently where her neck met her shoulder as she turned her face to give him better access, another moan, louder this time, escaping her.

He kissed along her collar bone, sliding down her body, taking the sheet with him, to bury his face between her breasts. A whimper escaped Hermione at the loss of friction between her thighs.

“Don’t leave me, please. Don’t leave me wanting. Please Draco.”

His hips jolted at the sound of his name on her lips, driving his rigid cock into her hip. “Never love, I’ll never leave you wanting.” The words were muttered against her breast just before he took the sensitive peak into his mouth.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as she cried out, back arching to press harder against his lashing tongue. One of her legs rose beneath the sheet and her ankle rose to dig into his arse as she tried to find friction against her clit. Another whimper escaped her as he moved to her other breast, lavishing the same treatment to that one as his hand found the swollen globe he had just abandoned and kneaded the softness there.

A low keening sound escaped Hermione as she found purchase along his hip bone to grind against her needy cunt, dampness seeping through the sheet and into the waistband of his briefs as she tried to find relief.

Releasing her breast he whispered reassurances against her soft flesh, making his way down her belly. “I’ve got you Angel. I’ll take care of you. It's okay Love.” His lips pressed tenderly into the soft swell of her belly as he continued to drag the sheet down as he made his way between her legs. He grasped the leg still wrapped around him and pulled it over his shoulder, opening her to him as he pressed the flat of his tongue against her outer lips, pressing until her folds parted for him and permitted him to leave at her wet, pink flesh.

Gently circling her clit he was careful not to touch it directly until she was clutching at his hair and driving her hips up to his face. Only then did he coax a finger into her weeping cunt and press his lips to either side of her clit, sucking and laving at the flesh until she was crying out loudly, falling apart in his arms.

He quickly banished the mess from his boxers, having ground himself to his own release while bringing her to her own, before crawling up the bed to hold her close to his chest, petting her sweetly as her breaths calmed and she burrowed into his shoulder.

A barely audible, “Thank you,” was pressed into his jersey as he felt her relax into sleep.

Chapter 33

Summary:

A bit of fluff but progression. <3

Hermione woke to Gimyn’s quick wrap at her door frame as he called out to her.

“Miss! Miss needs to wake up now. Gimyn waited to wake you, waiting on your alarm, but Miss Astoria and Master Draco will be here very soon.” His voice held alarm that immediately roused Hermione from her deep sleep.

“What? What time is it?” Hermione’s words came out in a sleepy slur of syllables.

“Miss, they will be here in thirty minutes! Miss must hurry and get up!”

Hermione sat up, grasping at her sheets at the last minute as she felt them sliding down her bare chest. “I'm up, I'm up.” She muttered as she wiped sleep from her eyes and wandlessly closed her door at Gimyn’s retreating form.

Hermione rose, grabbing for her robe and a change of clothes before gasping as something sharp bit into her foot. Raising it while clutching her dresser for balance she found a small, sharp, shard of plastic had caught the skin of her toe. Brows furrowed she took a moment, trying to think of what it was from. Her brain was still fogged with sleep, causing her to gasp as the night before came back to her. Her eyes darted quickly to her bed, noting the rumpled sheets on both sides of the mattress. She quickly plucked the shard from her toe, quickly pinching at the small cut to slow the bleeding while her mind swirled around the memory of Draco Malfoy in her bed the night before.

Minutes ticked by and another quick rap against the door had her moving as Gimyn called out again. “Miss, is there anything Gimyn can do to help? If Miss would allow Gimyn would happily tidy her room so Miss may get ready for her guests?”

“No!” Hermione shouted through the door before thinking of her tone. “No Gimyn! That won't be necessary. I'll be out in a minute.”

Hermione quickly cast her wand about making her bed, cleaning the floors, and tidying before turning to the mirror to quickly cast cleaning charms on her teeth, hair, skin, and to smooth her curls into something resembling a style rather than the bed head she had been sporting moments before.

Throwing on one of her few semi-casual dresses she opened her door just at Gimyn made to knock again.

“Oh good! Miss needs to eat her breakfast. Come! Come!” The small elf took her hand and quickly led her to the kitchen. A large glass with juice accompanied a spinach omelet. Gimyn looked on with a smile as Hermione thanked him, he nodded and continued bustling around the small kitchen, pulling glazed buns from the oven and placing them on a tray that he quickly floated out to the living room.

Hermione tucked into her meal and had just rinsed and placed her dishes in the sink when the floo roared to life, admitting Malfoy accompanied by Astoria. The later came forward pressing kisses to the air next to Hermione’s cheeks and giving her a gentle hug. Astoria’s eyes danced as she leaned back, seeming to take Hermione in.

“You are looking marvelous, Hermione.” A sincere smile crossed Astoria’s face causing Hermione to blush.

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled back a bit shyly. “I have the best Midwife. She takes very good care of me.”

At that Astoria's chime-like laugh burst forth, brightening the room before she spotted Gimyn. “Gimyn! So good to see you! Have you been taking good care of our girl?”

Gimyn bowed low, his nose nearly brushing the floor. “Of course Miss Astoria! Only the best for my Miss!”

“Wonderful! Thank you Gimyn! Do I smell your famous sticky buns?” Astoria stepped forward, engaging with the House Elf and leaving Malfoy and Hermione standing together near the hearth.

Hermione’s eyes darted to his and then down to his feet, uncertain what to say. After long moments of silence she settled on, “Good morning, Malfoy.”

A sly smirk crossed his face as she glanced up, noticing the rueful twist to his lips. “Good morning, Granger.”

Hermione’s eyes round as she meets his gaze again, her breath stalling in her lungs as his growling voice does sinful things to her as she recalled his voice from the night before. Her lips dropping open to form a small ‘o’ of surprise at his proximity as the smell of his cologne wafts in her direction.

Malfoy takes a step towards her, hand rising to graze along her upper arm, mouth close to her ear as he whispers, “Breath, Granger.”

Giving her head a small shake Hermione comes back to herself, putting distance between herself and Malfoy as she turned to Astoria and Gimyn who was busy levitating platters of baked goods to the large table taking up most of her living room. Astoria stood, sharp eyes taking in the interaction between Malfoy and Hermione with a smirk of her own across her features.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat as she cleared her throat. “So,” Hermione knew her nerves were showing as her tongue darted out to graze her lower lip before she tugged it between her teeth. “What are we researching today?”

Asotria’s smirk bloomed into a full smile, striking Hermione at what a kind witch she was. “Well, Hermione, I do have some questions for you. I wanted to clarify some things as well as see if you had kept any of your written instructions from the clinic?”

Hermione’s chin tilted as her brows gently drew down together. “Well, yes. I have to say I am a bit of a pack rat when it comes to documents and forms.” Turning she moved to one of the many book cases that lined her living space and pulled a folder from the corner of one shelf. “Here, these are all of the forms I’ve received. I thought it best to keep it handy in case anything was needed.” Hermione handed the folder over to Astoria who moved to sit at the table, flipping open the cardstock cover.

Gimyn appeared with tea service at that time, levitating cups and saucers to each setting. Hermione moved to sit across from Astoria, Draco being so kind as to press her chair forward in a strikingly gentlemanly fashion. Hermione found a steaming cup of sweetened ginger tea before her while Astoria and Malfoy had their own cups of black tea. Small plates appeared beside each of them, leaving space for tomes or papers in front of them. Light pastries floated to the plates alongside cloth napkins to wipe fingers before touching the pages before them.

Glancing towards the other side of the table Hermione took in Gimyn, broad smile gracing his wrinkled face, proud of his achievements.

“Thank you Gimyn,” She gave him a sincere smile. “Everything looks lovely. I appreciate you taking such great care of us.”

Hermione noted the heavy blush that began to stain his cheeks as he bowed and gave her a sharp nod before turning on his heel and making this way to the kitchen.

“He is quite taken with you.” Astoria said gently.

“He is wonderful. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

Astoria looked up, catching Hermione’s eyes through her lashes. “I think you would find that he feels much the same way.”

Hermione’s expression became quizzical as she looked back at Astoria but was quickly distracted as Malfoy changed the subject, pulling out a folder that had been shrunken down to pocket size before resizing it and opening it before him.

“Granger, I wanted to share the analysis of the potions that you gave me, that you had received from the clinic.” Malfoy passed a quickly made copy of the folder over to Hermione as he set one to the side of the folder Astoria was pouring over.
“This is the analysis of the potion given to you for the, internal, scar tissue. As you can see, this potion was quite complex and contained an extensive number of ingredients.” He paused for a moment, allowing Hermione to read over the exhaustive list of ingredients written in Malfoy’s neat script on the page.

“Why….Some of these don’t make sense, why would half of these be in this potion?”

“I had the same question. Some of the items in this specific potion are questionable in their use for this purpose. Others are quite dangerous and leave concerns for adrenal damage or harm to the kidneys or the liver when consumed in the quantities that you were prescribed. The next page I’ve listed each ingredient, their safe dosing intervals, and then the dose at which they were in the potion. Some items looked to be fillers only, with little to no benefit. Other items look to be substitutes for more expensive, more appropriate, ingredients.”

Malfoy looked up to take in Hermione’s face. She knew what he would see. Her face had drained of color, mouth dropping as she looked between him and the page. Even with her NEWT level of potion knowledge she knew that what was described in neat print before her was dangerous. Hermione was brought back to the moment by a soft hand, Astoria’s, laying over here on the table.

“Hermione, I know this is a lot. If it is too much, you don’t have to be involved. I just, I thought you should know. I have checked you over thoroughly since receiving Draco’s notes before our last appointment. You are okay, but I don’t want anything like this to happen to anyone else if we can prevent it.”

Hermione’s eyes found Astoria’s as she spoke. She pulled her lips together and nodded in agreement at Astoria’s words.

“Why? Why would they do this?”

Astoria’s lips pursed before she continued. “Some healers are so focused on the end result they take little consideration for the side effects of the process. It is possible that there was an issue with the supplier as well if the Healer isn’t brewing things themselves or using a reputable apothecary.”

“Do you know where the potions came from?” Hermione turned the question sharply to Malfoy.

“Not yet. We are searching for proof, though it seems that it may be from a family member of the main healer rather than a professional apothecary.”

Hermione nodded slowly. “What else?”

It was Malfoy’s turn to grimace. “It seems that the other potion given to you, the fertility potion, was also questionable with potential side effects.”

Hermione was flipping through the pages in the folder before her, landing on a long list of ingredients, many of which caused Hermione’s brows to rise up her forehead. “Why would they give this to me?” Tears began to shimmer in her eyes as she looked up first to Malfoy, then to Astoria.

Astoria took the moment to explain. “As I said before, some people are looking for results rather than risks. This potion,” Astoria gestured at the page before Hermione, “when given properly, increases the chance of conception by about 60%.”

Hermione nodded slowly while reviewing the list again, noting several ingredients that were cause for alarm. “And the risk of permanent infertility at the doses I received?”

Astoria’s lips pursed again, a grimace coming to her face. “At the dose you were prescribed, about 50%.”

At Astoria’s words tears began to fall down Hermione’s cheeks. Gimyn appeared next to her, offering a kerchief, one with Malfoy’s initials in the corner, to her. His large eyes were fierce upon Malfoy and Astoria.

“It is not good for Gimyn’s Miss to be upset.” He admonished Malfoy and Astoria sternly as his gnarled hand patted against Hermione’s shoulder.

A small smile graced Hermione’s face as she took in her fierce protector. “It’s okay Gimyn. I needed to know. It is just, upsetting is all. To know these risks after the fact.”

Gimyn nodded along with her words as if in deep understanding as he soothed her with gentle shoulder pats. “Is there anything Gimyn can get for Miss?”

“No Gimyn, thank you.” Another small, sad smile for the small elf as she nodded at him reassuringly.

With a sharp look at Malfoy and Astoria, Gimyn began to turn away before turning back, “Gimyn will be just in the other room Miss. Please call for Gimyn if Miss needs anything.”

Hermione nodded, the three of them remaining silent until Gimyn passed the threshold of the kitchen.

Hermione turned to take in Malfoy’s rounded eyes and shocked expression. “I think I was just told off by a House Elf.”

Astoria broke into soft chuckles. “I think we both were. Circe bless whoever tries to harm you Hermione. You have one fierce protector.”

Hermione smiled as her tears dried on her cheeks and they turned back to their work. “Okay, I think I understand. So, what exactly are we looking for in all of these books?”

Chapter 34

Summary:

Fluffy goodness

Malfoy waved his wand at the stack of books closest to them and deposited the first two before himself and Hermione. Careful not to set them atop either plates or the folder that was still open before her. The book that settled before her was a heavy text on different potion ingredients and their safe range of administration.

“It would be very helpful to have you notate the safe ranges of doses of the potion ingredients that you were given as well as the name of the text, the author, and the page that the information was found on. This will be included as a reference in our final report. We would like to have up to three references for each ingredient as we have found that some texts have discrepancies between the exact dosage calculations, though they should not be heinously different. I will be going through potion books regarding the combination of ingredients. From what I recall of your notes I think that we have a similar note taking style which will be helpful in compiling the final reports.” As Malfoy spoke his eyes focused on her hands, still clutching at the pages with the potion analysis that he had written out. He seemed wary, hesitant even.

Hermione nodded, quickly setting the list of ingredients to one side of her place at the table as she dragged the large tome in front of her. She quickly accio’ed her notebook and Muggle pen before listing the first ingredient. “I can do that,” the only words she shared before filling the large book open.

Astoria seemed lost in her own world reviewing the thick folder that Hermione had handed to her with the medical records from the clinic. Hermione had asked for a full disclosure of reports when she had decided to no longer seek treatment there which contained a surprising amount of documentation that she had not yet dug all the way through herself.

Hours passed and Gimyn came in with sandwiches for them all. Their cups never went empty, constantly refilled magically by the small elf. Several hours into the afternoon Hermione leaned back from the third text she was referencing to arch her back into a stretch. They each had a pile of discarded texts beside them, occasionally referencing back to one they thought they had finished with. Astoria stifled a yawn at the same time as Hermione moved, catching each other they shared a smile.

“Hermione?” Astoria started.

“Hmm?” Hermione’s pen was back in her hand, tip held to her lips as she glanced between the page and Astoria.

“Would you like to take a bit of a break? I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

“Oh, um, yes, that is fine.” Hermione quickly set her pen down, a bit embarrassed to have been caught with it in her mouth. She knew it was a rather disgusting habit but it was one she had never had any luck breaking.

“Are you, okay with Malfoy being here for my questions? They may be a bit personal but I think they are relevant to our case.” Astoria’s voice was reserved as she asked.

Hermione’s brows furrowed as she looked between Malfoy and Astoria, for former still had his head bowed to his paper but was looking up at them through his lashes, following their words like a table game as they spoke. “I think that is okay. He is aware of everything anyway. I know we have spoken of this while he was there before.”

“Some of the questions I have aren’t things we have discussed before. Some of my questions are regarding more details. I just want to be sure you are comfortable with discussing everything in detail.”

Hermione’s lips twisted into a perplexed smile. “If it will help with your case I’ll answer anything you ask. You will be reviewing the information anyway,” the last bit she directed at Malfoy. “I don’t see any reason to be shy at this point.” Hermione ended with a self depreciating shrug.

Astoria nodded and pulled a parchment from the pile before her with a long list of questions on the page.

“For your first appointment, what all did that entail?”

“Did they complete a physical exam? Not just a magical exam, but a manual physical exam?”

“Did they discuss your concerns about infertility?”

“How did they explain the infertility issues they spoke with you about to you?”

“Can you repeat exactly how they instructed you to take the first potion? The one they said was for the scar tissue?”

“What were your symptoms the first time you took that specific potion?”

“I recall you saying you contacted the office after the first dose, what was their response to your concerns? Do you remember who you spoke with? Their credentials?”

“How many nights did you take that potion?”

 

“Were they subsequent nights?”

“What was your pain level when you took the potions on a scale of 1-10?”

“Did they prescribe any pain relief for you to take on the evenings you took the potion?”

“Did they perform an exam after you took the potions for the scar tissue? Was it just a magical exam or a manual physical exam also?”

“What were the verbal instructions they gave you for the fertility potion?”

“What was the exact dosage they prescribed for the fertility potion?”

“Did they inquire as to if you had a partner or companion to assist you with the side effects of the fertility potion or the process of insemination?”

“Did they give you any additional potions for the side effects of the fertility potion?”

“How soon did they follow up with you after you took the fertility potion?”

“When did they check for conception?”

“What were their instructions once they determined you had conceived?”

“Is there anything else you can think of that I should know, or that you think I should know?”

Astoria jotted notes as Hermione answered her questions. Her handwriting was flawless, smooth across the parchment next to the questions she had prepared.

“There is one last thing that I think we should discuss,” Astoria began.

Hermione gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.

“I would like to present your experience as part of our complaint to the Wizengamot. I am afraid that having you involved beyond research would potentially signify a conflict of interest as our primary account of concern. Would you be comfortable with restricting your assistance to research, like we did today, only?”

Hermione’s brows furrowed. She didn’t realize how much she had enjoyed having a reason to research until that moment, when the opportunity to make a difference was being taken away from her. She knew that Astoria’s point was clear and valid. It would look poorly for her to be a driving force behind the complaint and concerns brought forward mostly because she was a former patient but also because she was one of the supporters of the clinic initially.

Lips pursed Hermione responded. “I understand. I will keep my involvement to research with you only. I will not speak of this to anyone outside of the two of you. I want you to be successful.”

“Thank you for your understanding.” Astoria reached forward and placed her hand over Hermione’s.

Gimyn chose that moment to step from the kitchen. “Would Master Draco, Miss Astoria, and Miss like dinner now?”

Hermione took the quick moment the distraction provided to run a finger beneath her eye as she felt a drop of moisture bead on her lashes. Her raging hormones made her want to cry more simply because they were illogical when she understood the root cause of the decisions. As much as she tried to pretend she was unbothered, she knew Astoria had caught her when she turned a reassuring smile her way.

“Yes, Gimyn, I think that is a great idea. Would you please assist Dogan with taking the books we have already reviewed back to the Manor? We will keep the ones we haven't yet read here until they've been reviewed.”

Gimyn bowed deeply, “Certainly Master Draco.” With a snap of his overlong fingers Gimyn, and the piles of books, quickly vanished.

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Looking over to Malfoy for the first time in what felt like ages having studiously avoided his gaze for the last few hours. He offered a small smile to her, one that spoke of understanding and maybe remorse? Perhaps that wasn't right. Shaking her head she moved to push her chair back. “I'll be right back. I swear my bladder is shrinking.”

Hermione said the last part as she was walking away. Somewhat surprised by Astoria’s light giggle and assurance that the experience is entirely normal.

When Gimyn returned he had Dogan with him and the two elves quickly had dinner served. A delicious meal that Hermione decided she would never even try to recreate. She was lucky to have someone that took such great care of her. Gimyn and Dogan refused to join them at the table, much to Hermione's chagrin.

Once dinner was over Astoria began asking Hermione questions. “How have you been feeling lately? Has the nausea improved?”

“Oh, yes. It has quite a bit. I rarely need to take the potions anymore.”

“Wonderful, that is great to hear. You are looking much better too. How have you been sleeping?”

At this question Hermione felt her cheeks heat, eyes darting to Malfoy who avoided her gaze in favor of staring at the wood grain of the table.

“Um, alright. Sometimes it is hard to fall asleep. I, um, was using a spell from the Prewitt book that was helping but it has been becoming less effective, um, over time.”

Astoria nodded, an apologetic smile gracing her expression. “Unfortunately that is also normal. Sleep can be hard between hormones and trying to get comfortable. Now, I think it is about time for your check up anyway. Would you be okay to do so now, since I'm here?”

Hermione's eyes darted between Malfoy and Astoria. “Um, yes, that is fine.” Somehow the intimacy of the night before made Hermione feel far more exposed now as Astoria pulled her wand out from her sleeve.

“Are you okay to lay on the couch or would you prefer to lay on your bed? We could move to your room if you would be more comfortable?” Astoria’s last words were accompanied by a glace between the blond still studying the wood grain and Hermione.

“H…here is fine. I'm sorry, it's just taking me a minute to switch gears.” Hermione rose from her chair somewhat awkwardly and moved to the couch.

“Please lie back for me.”

Hermione’s brows furrowed. This was different than before. She knew Astoria must have picked up on her confusion because she quickly supplied and explanation.

“I know we are a smidge early for your 16 week check but it should be fine to go ahead and do so. I want to do a few scans to make sure that everything is coming along as it should and it is easier to do so with you lying down so I can pull a direct projection right above your belly rather than further away in front of you like I do when you are seated.”

Hermione nodded in understanding, the wrinkle between her eyes smoothing.

“Also,” Astoria continued, “this is the best way if you don't want to know the gender. The little grape leaf I conjure takes a moment to apply to the projection and I don't want to break any great surprises for you.” Astoria gave a little wink to Hermione at the last bit.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?” Hermione eased herself back onto the cushions, using a throw pillow for her head as she stretched her legs out towards the opposite arm of the couch.

“Nothing at all, just lay still please.” Astoria’s wand swayed in the air and a sudden whooshing sound filled the room as a smile crossed her face.

Behind Astoria, Hermione caught Malfoy’s sudden jerk of movement as his head whipped up, is silver grey eyes flashing to meet hers as the sound of their baby’s heartbeat filled the flat.

Chapter 35

Summary:

My hand is finally healed enough to allow me to type on a keyboard! YAY!
Thank you for your patience while I recover(ed). Here is a bit of a longer chapter for your patience. Lemony goodness to come in future chapters, promise!

Astoria’s gaze darted between the two, taking in their enraptured expressions at the sound of the heartbeat before gently clearing her throat. “I have a question for the two of you.” Her soft voice broke through the trance that Hermione had found herself in staring into Malfoy’s grey eyes.

Hermione snapped her gaze to Astoria, a blush staining her cheeks. “Yes?”

Astoria turned just enough to face both Draco and Hermione. “I don’t know your reasons for keeping secrets, they are your own, and if you don’t want anyone to know I will keep this to myself, but I need to know to best treat Hermione and the baby.”

Malfoy blew out a deep breath, a heavy sigh that made Hermione’s gaze dart to him before moving back to Astoria.

“Is Draco the father?”

Hermione knew that she blanched, her gaze darted back to Malfoy who had turned to face her, waiting for her response.

Turning back to Astoria Hermione opened her mouth and closed it several times before finding her voice, a sharp breath escaping her. “Yes, he is.”

She felt another sigh escape Malfoy as a wave of trepidation crashed over her. She darted her gaze back to him and caught his smile before he passed his hand over his face and returned to observing Astoria.

“Did you…Well, I know you said that they mistakenly gave you the wrong sample. Is that true? I know the fertility potion can be very potent and the pheromones that are released by the female who takes it are quite, stimulating to others…”

“No!” Hermione noted Malfoy jump at her exclamation and quickly spoke to clarify. “Malfoy had no idea until I came in for my first follow up after the insemination. Neither of us knew about the error until he came in to question the clinic and I was there for my appointment at the same time and they found the error.”

Hermione looked to Malfoy, noting the brackets creasing his cheeks around his mouth before he opened his mouth to speak. “Astoria, there is no chance that Granger and I did anything to complicate the case. I am still adherent to Pureblood ideology regarding chastity.”

At that Hermione saw Astoria’s eyes widen into something resembling saucers. It was Astoria’s turn to react, “wha….What? Truly Draco?”

“Yes, truly. You may check if you need to.”

“But, purity culture is antiquated, even by Pureblood standards.”

Malfoy’s eyes grew hard as one of his bright brows raised. “You know my family as well as I do. Antiquated is their thing.”

Astoria broke out into a smile, a slight giggle coming from behind the delicate hand that came to cover her mouth. After a moment she began, “I’m sorry Draco, you are too right. I forget some of the old traditions that some of the families observe.”

Hermione’s gaze darted between the two, Astoria's eyes mirthful while the brackets to either side of Malfoy’s mouth deepened. After a long moment she cleared her throat, wanting to break the awkward silence they had fallen into.

“Now that you know, does this change anything? With the pregnancy that is.”

Astoria swung her gaze back to Hermione before dropping her hand and resuming her professional facial expression. “It doesn't change anything, per day, however, it helps me to prepare. You are both very gifted magically, which explains why this pregnancy has been so challenging.” Shifting her gaze back to Malfoy, Astoria’s next question was directed towards him. “What will be important to know will be historical information on Malfoy pregnancies, any family curses, or complications that you know of.”

At the question Hermione shifted into a sitting position, standing and moving to her bookcase to retrieve the file of notes she had compiled as well as Malfoy’s notes from the journals. “Here, I think these will help you.” Hermione made quick copies with a wave of her wand and handed the folder to Astoria.

Astoria flipped the folder open, glancing at the neat script on the pages before setting the folder on the table and turning back to Hermione. “Thank you, this will be helpful. Now, for the next part. Please, lie back down, I will cast the projection spell but don’t look until I tell you it is okay. We don’t want to ruin any surprises.” Again, Astoria’s eyes shined with mirth as she perched on the edge of the couch, next to Hermione’s knee.

As Astoria cast the spell Hermione’s gaze followed Malfoy as he rose from his chair and moved around the table, stopping at the arm of the couch where Hermione’s feet rested. He reached out his hands tentatively before wrapping them around her stocking clad feet, gently pressing into the arches and which caused a small gasp to escape from Hermione. Out of her peripheral, Hermione noted Astoria’s quick glance at the noise but she quickly went back to spinning the image before her this way and that with her wand, inspecting what Hermione had not allowed herself to focus on until she was given permission.

After long moments of holding Malfoy’s gaze Astoria finally gave them permission to look at the projected image hovering over her abdomen. A small human, so incredibly small, floated in the air above her belly. Hermione felt tears well and fall down the sides of her face as she took in the image of the life that was growing inside of her.

“They’re…..they’re so perfect.” Small fingers clenched and toes flexed and she could just make out the small movement of the eyes beneath their eyelids. Hermione’s eyes darted from the projection to Malfoy who stood opposite her, eyes looking definitively wet though no tears fell as he worked to blink them away.

Moments passed as the two of them gazed at the tiny babe in awe before Astoria began speaking again.

“Everything looks just as it should, they are progressing perfectly. There are a few more things I would like to check, including both your and Draco’s blood type, if that is okay? It requires a small blood sample if that is okay?”

Hermione barely heard Astoria but nodded, holding her arm out instinctively, used to the Muggle way blood was taken.

“Oh no, I just need a drop. A small prick of the finger will suffice.” Astoria conjured two small needles with another flick of her wand and made quick work of procuring her samples from both Malfoy and Hermione. Catching the droplets on clean sheets of paper Astoria quickly healed the small pricks before moving to the table to cast her various diagnostics upon the samples, leaving Hermione and Malfoy with the projection still fluttering in the air.

When Astoria turned back to them Hermione reluctantly pulled her gaze away from the image before her, waiting for her to speak.

“Everything looks good. You both have positive blood types which is good. You have good immunity to common illnesses and your nutrients levels are great. All in all, everything looks wonderful.” Astoria’s soothing smile was back in place as she relayed the result before glancing to Malfoy, who was still held in rapt attention by the babe before him. “Are you ready Draco?”

Malfoy jerked at the sound of his name as if he had been struck. “Um, Yes. I’m good.” His hand moved to rub at the back of his neck in an uncharacteristic sign of his uncertainty.

Astoria’s responding smile was that of an endeared friend as she waved away the projection before them. “Do you have any questions for me Hermione?”

Hermione pursed her lips as she wracked her brain “Nothing that I can think of right now.”

With a smile and a nod Astoria turned her attention back to Malfoy. “Now, since I now know that you are the father Draco, I think that we should observe the same stipulations regarding the case. I am happy to have both of you help with research, however, I think it is most appropriate to ask another family to support the case. Perhaps Nott? Also, I would like for you to submit to an examination to confirm your virginity with another healer so that the record shows this and there can be no accusation of tampering with the case on our part. Would you do this Draco?”

Hermione watched as Malfoy’s lips pressed into a hard line, his left eye twitching slightly at the request before he spoke.

“If it will help the case then I will.”

“Thank you Draco. I’ll send an owl over later with appointment information. Should I send it to the Manor or…” Astoria left her words to hang in the air, not finishing her sentence.

“Please send the owl here.”

Astoria’s face broke out into a wide grin but she only nodded in response. “Well, thank you both for your help. I will be off now. I will send the owl.” Astoria reached for Hermione’s hand and gently tugged her into a seated position before pressing a kiss to her cheek, then to Malfoy’s before seeing herself out the floo.

Hermione turned to Malfoy. “That exit was, abrupt.”

“Oh, she got what she wanted and didn’t want me to change my mind.” Malfoy moved as he spoke, sinking down onto the couch next to Hermione, close enough that their thighs pressed against each other.

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat at the contact. She was uncertain what to do. Last night was…amazing, fantastic…but in the light of day she found herself uncertain and anxious.

Malfoy moved just as she opened her mouth to speak, her words lodged in her throat, waiting to see what he would do. She was surprised when he waved his wand, dismissing the table and piles of books before them to leave her living space back to it’s normal condition before he turned to face her, his knee still pressed into her thigh.

“We need to talk,” Malfoy all but growled.

Hermione nodded at him, keeping her lips pressed together, one hand splayed over the swell of her belly beneath the jumper she wore. She knew her eyes were wide as she took him in. Gently tousled white blond hair and silver grey eyes that seemed to take in everything about her. He was silent for long moments, as if he was waiting for her to speak first. She continued to wait. She had learned the art of patience over the years, even if it was tedious at the best of times. As the quiet drew on one of Hermione's brows rose in silent question.

A heavy sigh heaved at Malfoy’s chest before he opened his mouth again to speak. “About last night…” His lips pressed together for a moment before he continued. “I fear I may have overstepped and wish to apologize if my forwardness was unwanted…”

Hermione quickly waved a hand between them, cutting Malfoy off before he could continue. “Really Malfoy, do you think I am not entirely capable of saying ‘No’ if I so choose? Truly, I should be thanking you for the best nights sleep I’ve had in quite some time.”

It was Malfoy’s turn for his eyes to round in surprise before a gloating smirk crossed his mouth, stretching his too full lower lip up in a way that was distracting at such close range. “The best nights sleep?”

Hermione felt her eyes roll out of instinct at his cocky assuredness. “Yes Malfoy, don’t let it go to your head.”

“It is certainly too late for that request Granger. I am quite curious though, what are your thoughts on my continued assistance in this, hardship you are experiencing?”

“Are you trying to get into my bed Malfoy?”

“Back into your bed? Yes, I am.”

Hermione paused for a moment, noting that her lack of immediate response caused a guarded hardening of his eyes as she peered into them. “I have one condition.”

Malfoy’s head gave a small shake as his eyes narrowed. “And that would be?”

“Call me Hermione. Please.” The last word was added, almost as an afterthought.

“I believe I can accommodate that request. Any other stipulations witch?” His smirk had returned in full force.

An answering smirk graced Hermione’s face. “Kiss me Draco.”

He lunged, is action aggressive with a sweet dichotomy of how his hands gently wrapped around her neck and threaded into the hair at her nape as he pressed his lips to hers. His kisses were firm as he kept his lips soft, his teeth came to nip at her lower lip before he laved with his tongue, easing the sting. Hermione’s opened her lips as she gasped, granting him access to her mouth, their tongues rasping along each others as they explored. A low growl escaped Draco as Hermione arched into him, pressing her swollen breasts into his chest as he moved, one leg coming between her thighs, giving her pressure to grind against as she undulated her hips beneath him.

One of his hands slid down from her hair, his other tugging gently at her curls until she arched her neck, giving him access to the flesh below her ear and causing her to moan out as his lips and teeth and tongue played the sensitive skin there. He made short work of slicing his hand down her side, grazing the swell of her breast and belly as he made his way to the hem of her jumper, craving her soft skin against his fingertips. Just as his hand grasped and moulded her breast an insistent tap came to the window, startling both of them and causing them to jerk away from each other like two teenagers caught snogging.

A short huff of laughter escaped Hermione as she registered an owl sitting at her window. She turned to regard Draco, his lips kiss swollen and his eyes holding a feral passion she was sad to lose with the inconvenient owl. “That is probably for you.”

He grumbled, adorably, and Hermione fought back a laugh but knew her mirth showed in her eyes as he scowled at her before getting up. Quickly making his way to the window he snagged the letter from the owl and ripped it open, reading the missive in quick scans of his grey eyes. Once finished, he looked back to Hermione, who’s brow was raised in question.

His lips pursed in obvious annoyance. “Astoria wishes us a good night, has scheduled my appointment for first thing Monday morning, and would like to remind me that I will need to remain chaste until that time to ensure my status is confirmed.”

A small, tinkling giggle escaped Hermione.

“This isn’t funny Granger.”

“It is kind of funny.”

“I’ve been cock blocked from my baby momma by my formerly betrothed. I fail to see humor in this situation.”

Another snicker escaped Hermione though she tried to stifle it with a hand over her mouth. He gazed back at her, his expression dead-pan at her mirth, his eye may have even twitched once or twice as she worked to compose herself.

“What ever shall we do to entertain ourselves Draco?” Another giggle escaped her at his sour expression.

“You should stop laughing at me witch. Just because I can’t bed you properly doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy other things. Or would you prefer to try and help yourself off to sleep on your own?”

Hermione lost her smile and her lips formed into an exaggerated pout. “You wouldn’t?”

“I certainly will if you keep laughing at me.”

A quick grin crossed Hermione’s face before she schooled her features into a more neutral and curious expression. “What exactly does the examination cover in regards to virginity?”

Malfoy moved to stand before her. “Pureblood purity culture, for men at least, is solely focused on sex that could produce an heir.”

Hermione’s single brow rose again. “You mean that, for men, virginity is solely based on penis in vagina sex?”

Draco nodded, an annoyed tilt accompanied his response. “Yes, that would be correct.”

“You know that is ridiculous, right?”

A full on grimace overtook his face. “Oh, I am very aware.”

Hermione’s face split into a cheshire’s smile, “However, that still leaves quite a bit on the table.”

Draco’s lips stretched to mirror Hermione’s own expression. “That it does, that it does.” The words were accompanied by a hand, offered to Hermione to tug her to her feet. He turned and let her to her own bedroom, kicking the door shut as they passed and turning back to her as they reached the side of her bed before he took her lips in another smoldering kiss.