We Can Work It Out

It was June 20th, the longest day of the year and the ministry was having each department host a simple soiree in honor of it being officially summer. Hermione was now three months pregnant and Draco wondered if she would ever again enjoy the smell of coffee, fish, onions, quill ink or cloves. If Christine didn’t stop trying to feed her that accursed tabouleh salad he was going to throw her out with the enormous pile of used napkins Tim Shinnston was accumulating as he ate his way through an entire tray of mince pies. He was attempting to keep the office as tidy as possible because while their staff was brilliant, they were also incredibly messy.

“Seriously, Mum, tabouleh is practically the perfect food for pregnant women. It has iron, fiber, vitamin A, C, and D and it’s so easy to make! Just try some!” Hermione gagged as the scent hit her nostrils.

“Dover! Get that away from her before she gets sick! Onions make her ill and the pattern on what I’m supposing is your dress is probably making her sea sick.” Draco strode over to Hermione and pulled her away from Christine and her purple paisley striped dress. “Shinnston, if you are going to hog all the mince pies your mother made for the office, don’t even think of calling in sick tomorrow. No human being should devour that much yeast in one week, never mind one setting.”

Tim merely shrugged and moved on to fill up a plate with cucumber sandwiches and cranberry salad. Christine, who was wearing what looked like a flamenco dress that had been the secret love child of a pinstripe suit and a sofa from the 1970’s, quickly removed the dish she had brought to their little office party from under Hermione’s nose. As she twisted to put the dish on the table Hermione had set up she lost her footing and dropped the entire contents onto Gavin Dorsey, their geneticist. Dorsey let out a hoarse squeak and ran from the room to immediately scrub any possible germs from his person.

“Oops! Sorry, Dorsey,” Christine called as she tried to right herself. Tim momentarily quit eating to help her up.

“That’s quite a flower you’ve got there, Dover,” he said, spraying flaky crumbs all over her dress.

“Thank you! It’s an erect heliconia stricta orange. My dad sent it back from his and mum’s trip Hawaii.”

As their staff children chatted, Draco pulled Hermione to a corner that was thankfully scent free and let her sag against him. Her face was slightly flushed and he knew she’d been close to vomiting. Her face was buried in his neck and she inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent. He rubbed small circles on her back and kissed her temple soothingly.

“Remind me again why we work here,” he mused.

“Because our work matters and because you didn’t want to be anymore involved in Malfoy industries than you had to,” came Hermione’s muffled reply. She was wearing a very fetching red muggle sundress and the cork heeled sandals she wore brought her to just under his eye level. They were the kind that tied around the ankles and he wondered if she would be agreeable to buying a pair like that in black to match the black silk negligee he’d bought her from La Perla. They would look especially gorgeous thrown up in the air over his shoulder as he pounded into her.

Clearing his thoughts he looked at the vastly different array of food laid out on the table. Instead of normal picnic food it looked like a diversity committee represented by dishes from each member’s culture. There was Christine’s tabouleh and stuffed grape leaves, Tim Shinnston’s mince pies and shortbread, Dorsey’s bangers and mash, a plate of sushi from Yuta, their linguistic specialist, an assortment of olives and cheeses from Jeremy Privet their child psychologist and a plate of chicken vindaloo from Babak, the school’s accountant. The fried chicken, finger sandwiches, lemonade, salads and crisps had all been supplied by Hermione.

“Sometimes I think that our department is actually a psychology experiment to see how we react in stressful situations,” Draco mused out loud. “There is no way Dorsey was hired based on his interviewing charms.” Draco watched the strange little man pluck a hair from Christine’s head as he emerged from sanitizing himself in his office. He placed the hair in a tiny plastic bag. “Some days I’m certain that we’re all going to wake up chained to the wall in his basement so that he can isolate our genes and create a super antibiotic to protect himself from Shinnston’s germs.”

Hermione leaned back in the circle of his arms and laughed up at him. “That’s not fair. He is absolutely brilliant, you know. He actually was able to locate the magical gene and see how it develops. He’s trying to figure out a way to help determine early on whether or not a child has the predisposition to become an animagus. That way we can start training much earlier and registration won’t be such an ordeal. Besides, his fears that someone will steal his work are not entirely unfounded, you know. There were several break-ins at his former lab and he lost a lot of important data.”

“Yes, but the data he lost was also pertaining to cross breeding unicorns and Abraxan horses and thestrals. I have a feeling that it was a good thing that data got lost, unless of course you think a gigantic scaly virgin detector with a penchant for raw meat is a good thing to have running around.” Hermione giggled again and his heart fluttered as she looked up at him adoringly. “Why can’t we just leave them to it and go home?”

“Because if we did, Christine would try to be helpful and ultimately end up setting the office on fire,” she responded rubbing her slightly swollen belly.

“All the more reason we should leave now,” he grumbled.

“Besides,” she continued, “Harry and Ginny promised they’d stop by and I don’t want to miss them or subject Ginny to Dorsey’s hero worship of her status as the inventor of the bat bogey hex.”

As if on cue, the Potters and Luna Lovegood wandered into their department. Ginny was by now eight and a half months pregnant and looked ready to pop. Harry, who was still in awe of his pregnant wife, ambled in front of her, removing any potential obstacle from her path. Luna followed behind them, carrying a pot of what looked like swamp weeds cooked in fish oil. Draco instinctively stiffened at the presence of so many members of the D.A. in the same room. True they were all on civil terms, but he still felt like an outsider whenever her school friends showed up. They had a bond he would never be a part of and it made him slightly envious.

“Look at you! You’ve got the cutest little baby bump, ‘Mione!” Ginny had to move her belly to the side in order to properly hug the other woman.

“I’m so glad you made it! Welcome to our little family. Please have something to eat. I can’t vouch for the mince pies or the grape leaves, but everything else is edible and wonderful,” Hermione said, playing hostess. “What did you bring, Luna?”

“Oh, it’s my famous plimpies and gillyweed stew. Daddy and his colleagues absolutely adore it and it has lots of fiber and anti-oxidants and vitamin B which helps with learning and memory, so I thought it would be appropriate.” She held the bubbling substance out and Draco thought he might be ill.

“That actually smells delicious! Could I have a bowl?” Ginny was apparently having odd cravings because the stew smelled like chicken soup made by mer-people.

“There are some bowls and spoons over there next to the lemonade carafes,” Hermione helpfully pointed out. “You can put the soup on the table over there.” She, Harry and Draco had all turned as green as the Slytherin common room rug and Draco knew she was just trying to get it as far away from her as possible. Ginny followed behind her, practically salivating and he saw Tim Shinnston sniff hopefully at the substance in the pot.

“Sweet Merlin, Potter! You’ll traipse half way across the country to save people you don’t even know from dark wizards, but you won’t cross a room to save your wife from the certain doom waiting in that cook pot?” Draco was incredulous. He monitored everything Hermione ate in fear that she would eat undercooked meat or spoiled chicken or anything that might make her sick during her pregnancy. He knew it was obsessive, but he wanted her pregnancy to go smoothly and he wanted their baby to be healthy.

“I learned a long time ago that Ginny will do what she wants when she wants. I’ve also learned to call it ‘intractable spirit’ and not mulish stubbornness,” he smiled before addressing Hermione. “I no longer share a residence with you, so I don’t have to worry about my health when I say you haven’t changed a bit in your Gryffindor stereotype of attacking a goal with reckless abandon and obstinately seeing it through to the end.”

Harry was staring directly at Hermione and although his tone was teasing, his eyes were serious. Grudgingly, Draco took that as his cue to leave. He knew that Potter and Hermione had never even been the slightest bit romantically involved, but he was still jealous of the easy familial intimacy they had with one another. The only person he had that with was Hermione herself and he was currently not speaking to the only other person he’d ever considered a friend. He busied himself talking to Willis and Shamblin, two other members of his staff whilst keeping an ear on the conversation his love interest was having with her best friend.

“If you’re talking about my pregnancy I wasn’t reckless about this at all, Harry James Potter,” she said and The-Boy-Who-Lived had the grace to look admonished. “This is something I’ve wanted for a very long time. I got tired of waiting on Mr. Right.”

“Tired of waiting? For crying out loud, ‘Mione, you’re not even thirty yet. Stop making it sound like you’re a dried up old maid. Witches aren’t like muggles; they live much longer and are fertile for long after most muggle women go through menopause.”

“So you think I’m being irresponsible?” she said, her voice low and cheeks red. “You think I just woke up one day, was lonely or wanted to get back at Ron and decided that I would get pregnant?”

“No, that’s not it. I just think you should have done this the normal way. Not because I think it’s immoral, but because I think you’ve sold yourself short. There are a ton of quality blokes out there and you deserve a partner, Hermione. You deserve to have a baby because you and the father are in love. You should have someone who feels the way I do about Ginny obsessing over your health and worrying about names and education and proper ways to discipline said child with you.”

“I’ve got Draco, Harry.” Even though she said it confidently, Draco felt a twinge of hurt because something about the way she presented herself wasn’t secure.

“That’s not what I mean. I know the two of you have a strong friendship, but Hermione, I feel like you’ve given up on your love life and I want to see you happy and fulfilled.” Draco wanted to punch Potter right in his bespectacled face.

“Harry, I haven’t given up on love. I’m very open to the idea of falling in love and believe me, I haven’t exactly been chaste in the years since Ron and I split up. I just didn’t find the right guy in what I felt was an appropriate time. I did research and discovered that the earlier I had my first child, the better off not only that baby, but all future babies would be. I didn’t just do this for health reasons. I’ve wanted to have a baby for the past eight years and this year I felt that want turn into an urgent need. It feels right. I originally was going to be artificially inseminated but when that avenue was closed to me and I couldn’t have an anonymous donor and had to interview candidates personally, I admit I rethought what I was doing. I’m really happy with my situation right now, though. I’m really, really happy to be having a baby with Draco. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Harry sighed. “I guess I just feel a little slighted that I found out about all of this in a Rita Skeeter article. I feel like if you felt this empty I should have seen it and done something about it. I feel like we’ve neglected you. I mean, there was a time when I thought it would be you, me and Ron against the world for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh Harry, you’ll always be family to me. You’re right that we grew apart, but that’s natural. You and Ginny have your lives and Ron and Lavender have theirs, but we’re all still very best of friends. Besides, now that we all have children we’ll see each other more often for play dates. I think it would be wonderful to have all three of us together again and to be able to watch our children play together. How is Lavender after giving birth? I bet Ron’s in a tither with his new little girl.”

Harry looked away uncomfortably. “Actually, I need to talk to you about that at a later date. Some things came up. Ron heard about you choosing Malfoy as first your ‘agony aunt’ as Skeeter put it and then to father your child and he’s been a bit off. Not mad, just off. He’d like to see you soon.” He paused and then said, “I don’t think he and Lavender are quite as perfect a match as she tells everyone they are.”

Hermione smiled. “Nobody is as good of a match as Lavender makes them out to be. She’s just a gushy, romantic person who embellishes on everything she talks about.”

“True. Also, I know you’re probably putting the dating aspect of your life on hold right now, but I have a friend in the auror department I’d like you to meet. He’s an unspeakable named Aidan O’Shaughnessy. He was about four years ahead of us in school and he was in Slytherin, but he’s very cerebral and I think you and he would get along beautifully.” Harry looked at her as if he expected her to jump at the news and Draco excused himself from his employees to make his way back over to the two former Gryffindors. He’d wanted to punch Potter before and now he wanted to mangle him. True, they hadn’t advertised to the entire wizarding world that they were sleeping together, but they weren’t keeping it under wraps either.

“I appreciate your offer and your concern, Harry, but I’m perfectly happy with my current situation and you are correct. I am not looking for anyone to date in the slightest at the moment.” Hermione smiled at Harry before giving him a sisterly hug. She told Potter she wasn’t looking for a date, but she didn’t inform him that they were sleeping together either. He didn't know how to take that.

“Love,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist possessively, “Shamblin’s wife made a strawberry pie just for us. Do you want a piece?” He tried to sound casual, but he knew she saw the look in his eye because she blushed slightly and looked contrite.

“I’d love a piece. Why don’t I get us both one? Harry, why don’t you see if Ginny and Luna want some dessert?” Potter left and Draco was on the edge of informing her that they were in fact a couple and she needed to tell everyone she knew when his day got much worse.

“Dear Lord, they told me this was a quirky department, but Luna Lovegood and Gavin Dorsey? How much quirk can you stand, Draco?” Blaise Zabini strolled into his office, bold as brass looking absolutely murderously attractive in a linen suit.

Draco gritted his teeth and growled, “What do you want, Zabini?” His arms reflexively pulled Hermione closer. He looked like a petulant and spoiled, greedy child, but he didn’t care.

“This is the department of education, isn’t it? I was told by the Headmistress of Hogwarts if I wanted to sell textbooks from my publishing company to Hogwarts that I had to discuss it with the two of you.” He reached over and picked up a stuffed grape leaf and popped it into his mouth. “Mm, that’s divine. Did you make that, Hermione?”

“No, Christine Dover, one of our research and developers did. I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ll be changing the curriculum. We’re slowly integrating a new learning method that doesn’t rely quite so heavily on traditional texts. Luna Lovegood developed it and we’ve been trying it out with good results.” Hermione didn’t move or try to disengage herself from the circle of his arms and he was glad. The dress she was wearing was wonderful because he got to see her curves on display, but so did everyone else.

“Really? Well why don’t you get Looney in here and we can talk shop. I’m fairly certain the traditional method outlined in the texts I’m selling will prove to be a lot more reliable than hers.” He flashed that smile that got him past so many secretaries and so many favors from women and a few men. Draco wouldn’t have minded it if it had been a natural smile, but he knew it was practiced because he’d been there in fourth year when Zabini had spent hours practicing it in the mirror. It galled him to watch the smug arse-face use it on his lover.

Hermione moved to collect Luna and Draco felt a stab of triumph when he saw her roll her eyes. That left him alone with the traitor however. All around him, his employees were enjoying their day of fun, but all Draco could hear was the pumping of angry blood in his veins.

“I didn’t know you owned a publishing company, Zabini, or that you were so well versed in educational teaching methods,” Draco said frostily. He knew he had the glacial stare of his father at the moment because Zabini shrank back marginally.

“I do own a publishing company. However, I could care less about selling Hogwarts textbooks. It’s a side venture that turns a small but reliable prophet every year. I was more interested in getting to see you since you haven’t flooed or owled me in over three months. I understand congratulations are in order.” Blaise once again had that Cheshire cat grin that Draco was learning to hate. It said that he knew something everyone else didn’t. “I didn’t think you would summon up the balls.”

“What the fuck are you getting at?”

“You’ve had ample opportunities to make a move over the years and you never did. She decides she wants to have a baby and instead of offering your services right away, you go to some sperm bank with her and suffer in quiet. That plan gets nixed and you are presented with a golden opportunity to proposition her and instead you sit on the side-lines while every dried up, insipid blow-hard in London comes up with more stones than you could ever arsed to find and propositions the woman you love. She wasn’t going to actually let any of them get their naughty bits near hers, but except for Dean Thomas, they all wanted to and you were going to let them. I sent in my own because A, my mother insisted that I try for it because she has this yearning for intelligent grandchildren and B, because I knew you wouldn’t do anything about your sorry situation unless you got righteously angry. I was right, so I think you should show me a little gratitude.” Blaise crossed his arms over his chest and looked casually confident in his own brilliance.

“You manipulative little cunt,” Draco whispered, “So all of that was a lie? You wouldn’t have really gone through with it?”

“No. The only part of that situation that was a lie was the fact that I would have had no remorse about shagging her. You know I’ve always found her to be quite alluring and honestly, if it weren’t for you I would have shagged her senseless years ago. I do think she’s excellent mother material and mummy dearest is quite adamant that I provide her with a grandchild imminently and if you hadn’t gotten yourself sorted, I would have had a time explaining to both of them why you and I were no longer friends. I would have tried to goad you into doing it one more time, though. I meant it when I said she deserved better than that tragic hero character you had created for yourself. As if the mere presence of you in her love life would send her into blackened despair. You really do give yourself too much credit. I’m very certain that any mess you got her into, she would be able to get herself out of.”

“If you thought I was so pathetic, why did you even bother setting this up?”

“Because that caricature you had painted of yourself didn’t deserve her, but you did. You were correct that I didn’t care for her. I probably should, but I don’t. I can’t stand to see good commodities go to waste though and I knew that the person you were when you were with her was more than good enough for her and exactly what she needed. Besides Potter and the Weasleys you are the only one who truly understands and appreciates her and doesn't have this fantasy ideal of she should be. Just because you have this unhealthy ability to deny yourself happiness doesn’t mean she should suffer as well.”

Draco assessed the man in front of him. He knew that Blaise was intelligent, but he never knew he was this deep or that he even cared enough about him and Hermione to push them towards each other. He still didn’t think he was totally correct about him deserving Hermione, but he was right in that he certainly did love and desire her to the point of obsession. He chewed one of Christine’s grape leaves thoughtfully and watched as Hermione extracted Luna from a conversation with Gavin Dorsey and steered her towards Blaise and himself.

“Hullo,” Blaise purred as he appraised the woman in front of him. Draco’s jaw almost dropped to the floor when he heard the sexual tone his on-again friend had adopted. There was no possible way Blaise was interested in Looney Lovegood. Her blonde hair was long and uncontrollable, like Hermione’s, but Draco felt that Hermione’s hair had an earthy, wanton thing going for it while Luna looked like she had just rolled out of bed. She was wearing bright blue robes cut in a V-neck and lots of clangy silver jewelry. He often wondered if the hospital had made a mistake and Luna was actually Professor Trelawney’s love child with Aberforth Dumbledore.

“Hello, Hermione tells me you want to talk about educational methods of learning in early childhood.” Luna was completely unaffected and unaware of Blaise’s charm.

“Actually, I came to talk about textbooks. They tell me you don’t use them,” Blaise said as Draco watched him go through all the poses of his I’m-totally-listening-to everything-you-have-to say-aren’t-I-wonderful? ruse to get into a bird’s knickers.

“Oh, I use them, but I think they should be supplemental to the actual learning process. I was interning with Newt Scamander in Italy and trying to come up with a syllabus for my Care of Magical Creatures course when I stumbled onto the Montessori learning method and decided to apply it to magical learning. It worked with my primary school students in Sicily and so I decided to develop it further.”

“You interned with Newt Scamander? You got into his program?” Blaise actually was interested now. Magical creatures had been a special interest hobby of his for quite awhile and while he didn’t pursue it academically, he did dabble in it as a side project.

“Yes, I was his apprentice for two years. I did my research on minotaurs and Pegasus horses. I was published twice in Magical Geographic.” Draco was impressed. He’d always assumed that Luna was off her rocker but it appeared she was a legitimate naturalist.

“Have you thought about publishing your findings in a more profitable sense? The last time a Care for Magical Creatures book was published was when I was in my third year at Hogwarts. If you aren’t doing anything right now, maybe we could discuss printing one. I’ve got reservations at Le Fontaine in half an hour. Maybe we could outline something over drinks beforehand.” Blaise was genuinely intrigued by the woman, so Draco hoped he didn’t mess it up by sleeping with her before he got his text published.

“I suppose I could. ‘Mione, would you mind returning the pot when you’re done?” she asked, referencing the plimpie stew she brought.

“Absolutely, Luna. Blaise,” Hermione began warningly, “be certain you treat her fairly during your dealings with the book.” Her words had multiple meanings as she glared at the Italian man.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving her unsatisfied,” he said with a cock-sure grin and the two of them apparated away.

Draco made it through the rest of the day without incident. The Potters stayed behind to help clean up and Tim Shinnston helped Christine Dover get Gavin Dorsey out of his lab and back to his cave of a flat in Leeds. He and Hermione apparated back to the manor where they shared a shower and made love to one another under the running water.

It wasn’t until later, when they were cuddled up on the couch, he watching the financial report on BBC news and she looking at swatches of colour for the nursery, that he said what had been on his mind all day.

“Hermione,” he started.

“Hm?” she responded, deep in the world of Peter Rabbit and colour schemes.

“While we’re…doing this…there shouldn’t be anybody else.” His heart thudded as he stared at the bland faced newscaster talking about the stockmarket. She momentarily looked up before going back to what she was doing, never leaving her position of leaning against his chest with his hand resting on her hip.

“Okay,” she said without fuss and he cursed himself for being a coward.

A/N- Hello, my dears! Sorry this got posted late, but I wanted to get this chapter out there. I wonder if anyone made a connection between Harry's friend and one of Dr. Feldman's donors. If not, that's okay. I hope this story is still to everyone's liking. There are still a few kinks to work out in the plot, a few hurdles they have to get over. Also, we will be seeing Luna and Blaise again, don't worry! Thank you to everyone who reviews!
Cheers!
G.C.