Chapter Text
The Australian sun dipped low on the horizon, bleeding soft purples and aching pinks across the sky. It was the kind of beauty that demanded reverence, but to Hermione, it felt like the world was trying to comfort her, and failing. The warm haze that shimmered over the ocean could not touch the cold grief that settled deep in her chest.
She sat quietly in the sand, barefoot and still, as if moving too quickly might shatter what fragile calm she had left. Her hand rested on the swell of her belly, instinctively protective, as if shielding the tiny life growing within from the storm of memories swirling in her head.
This had become her sanctuary, the sunset, sand, and silence. Every evening since arriving in Australia, she returned to this exact spot. But the peace she hoped to find still eluded her, always just out of reach.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to another shoreline, long ago where she would hold hands with a boy who was lost to her now, a boy with platinum blonde hair and silver eyes. They would lie next to each other on the rocky edge of the Black Lake, telling stories and talking about the stars in the sky. The water had always been colder there, less forgiving, but it was where she had felt the safest… with him.
Draco Malfoy.
She hadn’t said his name aloud in weeks, and yet it was always there, lingering beneath every breath. Her first love. Her first heartbreak. And now, her soon to be born child’s absent father.
He had made it clear, cruelly, unmistakably clear, that he wanted nothing to do with her.
If only he knew…
She had tried to talk to him about it. She remembered that day with sickening clarity. The hopeful weight in her chest after taking her last N.E.W.T., the way her feet had flown through the corridors of Hogwarts in search of him, her heart thrumming with anticipation, nerves, and joy.
But she had found him in the eighth year common room and he hadn’t been alone.
Draco’s arms were wrapped around Astoria Greengrass in an embrace so intimate it knocked the breath from Hermione’s lungs. For a long moment, the world tilted. She could hear her own heartbeat roaring in her ears.
Hermione didn’t really know the 7th year girl, only that she was the slightly younger sister of Daphne who had become a close friend to Hermione earlier that year.
What followed tore her in two.
Draco looked up, eyes wide as he spotted Hermione, before smirking and leaning down to kiss Astoria deeply in front of her. Hermione couldn’t see Astoria’s reaction. She could tell that the girl didn’t lean into Draco’s kiss, but she didn’t stop him either. Draco’s hands gripped Astoria’s waist. A waist that would remain so thin compared to her own, which would soon grow to accommodate their baby.
Hermione couldn't move. Couldn’t breathe. The betrayal was so sharp, so sudden, it nearly doubled her over. She felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart, the pain was so visceral that she nearly doubled over.
Hermione and Draco’s relationship hadn’t been a secret. Everyone had known about them, even Astoria. So why was this happening? How long had this been going on?
“Draco?” Her voice trembled, cracked wide open. She leant on the doorway to stand herself up.
Astoria turned, guilt blazing across her face. “Hermione, I promise, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Draco said flatly, his voice like ice. Like a stranger’s.
Astoria looked at him in horror. “Don’t do this, Draco.”
“Leave, Tori,” he said, brushing her off with a calculated coldness. “I’ll find you soon.” He paused, as if preparing to hurt her even more. “Darling.”
Hermione’s eyes closed. The endearment slicing her like a knife.
She continued standing there, frozen, desperately hoping this was just a nightmare.
But it wasn’t. She opened her eyes to see Astoria slipping past her with a mournful look. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” she whispered before the door clicked shut behind her.
And then it was just the two of them. Or at least, what was left of them.
“What the fuck, Draco?” Hermione's voice quivered. The pain morphing into a fury barely holding back her heartbreak.
“You had to know this wouldn’t last,” he said, each word a dagger, his voice detached. “You and I were… convenient. A good story. But that’s all it was.”
“Convenient?” Her voice shattered. “We were making plans. You said we’d go to Australia together. You held me at night and talked about names, about futures. Why are you Occluding? What are you hiding from me?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at her like she was a memory already fading. Then he stepped forward, studied her face as though trying to memorize it, or forget it.
“You’re nothing but a Mudblood,” he said, and she saw something in him flinch, almost imperceptibly. “A brilliant one, yes. But never enough for a Malfoy. You thought you deserved me? That we could be together? Don’t be daft, Mudblood. I used you to fix my reputation and you played your part beautifully. Now I’ve got what I need. I’m done.”
Each word was a punch to her gut. She could barely stay upright. Her heart flayed.
“This isn’t you. This isn’t you, Draco,” she whispered, tears streaming freely now. “Please. What happened? Did your father…?”
“Enough!” he roared, and the sound of it made her shiver in fear. This wasn’t the boy she loved. He had never raised his voice to her before.
“This is who I am. I just hid it well. Maybe you’re not the brightest witch of your age after all,” he sneered.
Her heart screamed. “You’re lying. You are lying. What about Narcissa? She supported us! She loved me! Was that all a lie too?”
He hesitated. Just for a moment. The crack in his mask flickered.
But then, “Tomorrow, we leave Hogwarts. And I never want to see you again. I’m marrying Astoria. We’ve had a betrothal agreement in place for years, she agreed to wait until I could restore my name by being with you. She’s the witch I was meant to be with. The one I want to be with. A true witch.”
Hermione’s stomach turned. “But blood purity doesn’t matter to you. You said you never believed it.You said she was like your sister. You said—” She broke off, sobbing. “Why are you doing this? Why are you lying to me?”
“I’m not lying, Mudblood!” he spat, voice trembling. “Take the fucking hint. I don’t want you. I never did. Get out.”
She stared at him, the boy she had loved, the man who had once bled for her, held her through nightmares, kissed her like she was air itself. Gone. Erased.
“But Draco, I’m pre—”
“Not another word. I don’t fucking care.”
And that was the last straw.
Her magic crackled around her, wild and angry. Her hair sparked like lightning. A mirror near the fireplace shattered, echoing the sound of her breaking heart.
“You fucking coward,” Hermione hissed. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing. Pretending to be this bigoted asshole but I know that’s not you. You’re just a fucking coward who won’t stand up to his daddy who is in PRISON and can’t do a fucking thing to you.”
She was shaking now, rage and grief and love all warring inside her as she continued, her voice like venom, “You know what? Fine. Marry Astoria. Enjoy a loveless marriage with a girl you see as your little sister. You will never see me or your unborn child again.”
His face turned to stone. But something in his voice cracked.
“What? You're lying. Deceitful little...That can’t be true!”
Hermione didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The pain would swallow her whole if she said it again.
If he didn’t believe her? So be it.
She turned, her vision blurred, heart pounding as she fled from the only boy she had ever truly loved. Whatever they had was now lost. But she would not lose herself. Or her child.
“What are you thinking about, princess?”
The low, familiar voice stirred Hermione from her thoughts. She turned her head slightly to find Theodore Nott beside her, his long legs stretched out in the sand, his bright blue eyes fixed on her with quiet concern. There was always something steady about him, like the world could be falling apart, and Theo would still be there, calm in the wreckage.
He hadn’t returned to Hogwarts after the war. Instead, he’d disappeared from the UK entirely, choosing the distant warmth of Australia and a fresh start at their wizarding academy. Hermione had reached out the day she arrived, without hesitation, without a second thought.
They had history. Quiet, hidden history.
They’d first spoken during her fourth year, when he’d found her crying alone outside the Yule Ball. He’d sat beside her then, just like this, and simply listened. That moment had carved out a strange, quiet space between them, one that, over time, grew into something steady and unspoken.
Only Harry and Ron ever knew the full truth of how deep that friendship ran. But Theo had always been someone she could rely on. And now, he was here.
“I found out the baby’s gender today,” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.
He stilled for a beat, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. “Tell me, please?”
There was something about his voice, soft as honey, slow and patient, like he’d wait all night if he had to.
“It’s a boy,” she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. “A healthy baby boy with an incredibly powerful magical signature.”
Theo let out a soft snort. “Considering who his parents are, I’d be worried if he wasn’t .”
She tried to laugh, but the sob slipped out before she could stop it.
“Hey, hey…” he whispered, turning to face her more fully. His hand cupped her chin, coaxing her to look at him. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless. I didn’t mean to bring him up.”
Hermione swallowed hard, the ache in her chest pressing into her ribs. “It’s not your fault. I just… I thought I could be getting over what happened. But every time I feel him kick, I think about who’s missing.”
“You’re not alone, princess,” he said gently. “You’ve got me. You’ve got Harry, Ron, Ginny. And a whole damn crew of Slytherins who are more protective over you than they’ll admit. Daph, Pans, Blaise, they ask about you constantly.”
She shook her head. “I can’t face them. Not when I know they went to his wedding. I get it, I do, but it still hurts too much.”
“They understand,” Theo replied softly. “They don’t blame you for needing space.”
Hermione hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “He sent another letter today. And another check.”
Theo’s jaw tensed. “Did you read it?”
She shook her head again. “No. I sent it back unopened. I don’t want his money. I’m not some inconvenience to be paid off. He made his choice. I don’t need anything from him.”
He watched her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “You’re right. You’re not some secret shame he can just buy away. You’re Hermione Granger . The brightest witch of our age, single-handedly dragging this world forward even when it doesn’t deserve you.”
Her lips trembled. “I can’t keep doing this, Theo. The healers are already worried about my blood pressure. I feel like I’m carrying the weight of everything.”
“You don’t have to carry it alone,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you. Always.”
A long silence stretched between them, only the sound of waves crashing gently against the shore breaking the stillness.
“I assume you’ve spoken to him?” she asked after a beat, though her voice was careful, guarded.
Theo leaned back on his elbows. “Actually, no. Haven’t spoken a word to him. I don’t think he’s too pleased that I’m here with you.”
She snorted softly. “I doubt he even knows. We kept our friendship under wraps pretty well.”
Theo tilted his head, a sly smile on his lips. “He knew. He always knew.”
She frowned. “How?”
“He used to watch you,” Theo said simply. “Had it bad, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He’d get pissed when he saw us talking. Cornered me once, fifth year. Asked what was going on between us. I deflected and asked why he cared so much. He didn’t answer. But after that, things changed.”
Hermione looked at him, stunned. “I never knew.”
“You weren’t supposed to.” He shrugged. “That was the whole point, right? Keep everything quiet, hidden, unspoken. It was the only way any of us survived.”
“I’m sorry, Theo,” she said quietly.
“It’s not your fault,” he said with a faint smile. “You’re worth it.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she dropped her gaze to the horizon, watching the last sliver of sun dip below the ocean’s edge. The sky still held its soft colors, like a promise that tomorrow would come.
Since she’d arrived, Theo had taken her in, no questions, no conditions. His flat had become her safe place. She had her own bedroom, a quiet space where she could breathe, sleep, and study. With perfect N.E.W.T.s under her belt, she’d started her Healing mastery at her own pace.
Australia’s wizarding laws were more progressive, kinder in the ways she needed most. Here, she wasn’t a scandal. She was a woman. A mother. A healer. She could take her time with her mastery while raising her child.
She turned her face toward Theo’s shoulder again, letting herself rest, just for a moment.