One More Time

*

Hermione was shocked into silence, barely acknowledging the server as their food came. She was staring at Blaise like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. The sounds of the other diners intruded on the silence; the clinking of glass, tinks of silverware.

The silence stretched on and Blaise waited. Finally, Hermione seemed to come out of her stupor and stared at him.

“Are you crazy?!” she hissed, as though afraid the other patrons might be listening in.

“I hope not,” Blaise said calmly, though his heart was beating madly against his chest. “I want you to move in.”

“With you?” Hermione repeated, dropping her eyes to her untouched plate, her eyebrows coming together as she tried to figure out why in Merlin’s name Blaise would want her to move in with him.

“No, with my mother,” Blaise said sarcastically. “Of course with me. What do you say?”

Hermione’s eyes snapped up. “I say you’re insane,” she snapped. “I can’t move in with you. What would people say?”

Blaise had known this would come up. “We’re going to have to tell them eventually.”

“I don’t see why I have to move in, though,” Hermione said. “I’m perfectly fine in my flat.”

“Maybe now, but what about after? It’s not big enough for everything we’ll need.”

“We?” Hermione repeated. “We still haven’t discussed your capacity in raising this baby.”

“I’ve already told you, Hermione, I plan on helping, whether you like it or not.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and glared at her plate once more. She didn’t know what to say. She liked her flat, but having a bigger house for a baby would be nice. She was worried what a move to Blaise’s house would incur.

“Why should I move in?” she demanded, wanting a clear, reasonable reason.

“One, because there, we’ll have room to put everything a baby needs. Two, I have staff that can help.”

“I don’t need hel—“

“I know you don’t.” Blaise sighed. “But it’ll be nice to have them around.”

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. “Why now?”

“Why not now? There’s only four months left and there are a lot of things we haven’t done.”

“But people will know—“

“They don’t have to,” Blaise interrupted quietly. “You could keep your flat if you want, and maybe someday, go back to it, if you really wanted. You don’t have to tell anyone you’ve moved.”

“They’ll figure it out.” Hermione sighed. “Harry will, and Padma, she…”

“Padma what?” Blaise asked. He saw Hermione pushing her food around her plate, not meeting his eyes. “She what, Hermione?”

There was a second’s pause before Hermione looked up finally. “I told her.”

She watched Blaise anxiously. When he didn’t say anything for a minute, she bit her lip. “Well, she found out,” she said quickly. “I didn’t really tell her. She asked me and I couldn’t just lie to her face when she asked me. She promised she wouldn’t tell Harry, but if we move in together, he’d figure it out, I know he would. Blaise,” she said pleadingly. “Say something.”

He hadn’t said a word, but was gazing at her, an indiscernible expression on his face. He blinked as the server refilled his drink and moved away. He looked at Hermione now.

“It’s okay,” he said finally. “The more people who know, the better.”

Hermione let out a relieved sigh and actually took a bite of her food.

“You still haven’t answered me,” Blaise said quietly. “I want you to move in with me, Hermione. It’ll be easier on both of us. You won’t be so far away when you need something. I can always get out of work.”

“Your mother,” Hermione said shortly.

“What about her?”

Hermione gave him a frustrated glare because he didn’t seem to understand her. “Your mother practically lives at your house, Blaise,” she said. “Surely you’ve noticed? How would you hide this from her?”

“She hasn’t been over in a while,” Blaise said lightly.

Hermione was stunned. “Why not?”

Blaise shrugged. “Hasn’t had the inclination, I suppose.”

Hermione gave him a mistrustful look. “She’s going to find out as well, eventually. What will you tell her?”

“I’ve already told you,” Blaise sighed. “She won’t care.”

“Yes, she will,” Hermione said forcefully. “I know enough about Isabella Zabini to know that she cares very much who you take to bed.”

“Can we please not use my mother’s name and the word bed in the same sentence?”

Hermione ignored him. “My point is, she is not going to be happy, no matter how much you butter her up. I will always be the girl who ruined your future.”

“You did not,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

“She doesn’t see it that way,” Hermione said bitterly.

“Look,” Blaise said suddenly, losing some of his provincial cool. “This isn’t about my mother, it’s about us, and the baby. We have to make decisions based on that. Now, will you or won’t you move into the Manor?”

Hermione sighed and glanced at her plate again. She’d barely touched her dinner.

“I have to think about it,” she said quietly.

“Fine,” Blaise said, and they spent the rest of the meal in relative silence.

**

The next week was an agonizing wait as Blaise waited for Hermione’s response. He planned to ask her again at the doctor’s appointment next week, hoping it would be sufficient time for her to make up her mind.

He knew it was a big deal. He had known she wouldn’t like the idea at first, but if he’d gotten across enough of the benefits, she might consider it. There was one other reason he had not told her of his desire for her to move in.

After talking to Pansy, he’d determined that a straightforward semi-declaration of his feelings, or what he thought anyway, was a bad idea. Instead, he had decided that asking her to move in was the only logical progression.

If she moved in and they were together in a regular environment, Hermione might be more open to a real relationship again. He wasn’t entirely sure of her feelings at the moment and wasn’t too eager to find out. He couldn’t imagine she was really in a good place when it came to him. He had, after all, got her into this mess.

He only hoped she would see the benefits of moving to the Manor and say yes. He’d never realized how nerve-wracking it was to count on another person. He’d hardly done it when he was younger.

When he’d gone to Hogwarts, he had been a loner, for lack of a better term. He didn’t have very many close friends. Draco had been his only real acquaintance, and even then they hadn’t been good friends.

His only focus in school had been keeping his grades up and staying out of the war. He’d refused to pick sides. The strategy had worked and he had come out neutral and on top. He didn’t want to rely on someone else for his future.

All the girls he’d ever dated in school had been merely for fun. He’d never really wanted anything more than a few nights from them.

Now, though, he was counting on Hermione. He wanted her to move in, to live with him, to wake up and find her in the same house as him. The idea made his stomach squirm a bit with nerves. He’d never done anything so down-home with any girl before.

Blaise whiled away the week, nervously awaiting Friday, when he hoped Hermione would put him out of his agony with an answer. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

Friday came finally and Blaise Apparated to the Healer’s office, on time for once. He supposed making her happy by being punctual could help. Hermione was there already, as he knew she would be.

Quietly, Blaise pushed open the door, hearing the tinkle of the bell above his head. Hermione’s head turned immediately in his direction.

“You’re on time.” She sounded surprised.

“I like to surprise you,” he replied smoothly, taking the seat next to her. He glanced over. She was still wearing her coat, attempting to hide the bulge of her stomach. She was getting bigger, Blaise could tell. He wondered how much longer she would be able to hide it.

Hermione looked even more surprised at Blaise’s response and didn’t respond. Instead, she grabbed a magazine and shook it open.

Blaise glanced around carefully. A man was seated in the corner with some sort of purple spots on his face, but otherwise the waiting room was empty. Blaise leaned into Hermione.

“Hermione,” he whispered and she tilted her head up a bit from the magazine. “Have you thought anymore about what I asked you?”

Hermione didn’t appear to have heard because she was silent for a minute until, she muttered, “After the appointment.”

Blaise frowned. He didn’t want to wait until after the appointment. He could be an impatient man.

He forced himself to sit back, though, picking up a magazine and riffling through it unseeingly. It seemed like an eternity until Hermione’s name was called and they went back to see the Healer.

Hermione sat on the table again and Blaise stood by her side. Healer Robinson bustled in moments later, a cheerful smile on his face.

“Good morning, good morning!” he said happily, turning to face both of them. “How are you two today?”

Blaise glanced at Hermione. “We’re doing well, thank you.”

“Good, good,” said the Healer distractedly. He was already waving his wand over Hermione, muttering spells under his breath. “I see you’ve been taking good care of yourself, Ms. Granger.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, looking pleased. “Well, yes, I read all the pamphlets and I also bought a few books, like Pregnancy is as Pregnancy Does and Painless Pregnancy and Don’t Forget the Bottle.”

“My, we’ve got a reader here, don’t we?” Healer Robinson cried.

“Got that right,” Blaise muttered.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed and he glanced away. He hadn’t meant to do it. Instead, he added. “Hermione’s always prepared.”

“That’s good,” Healer Robinson commented, still waving his wand over Hermione. “Always good to be prepared.” He paused, lifting his wand. “You’ve reserved a space in a Hospital for the birth, yes?”

Blaise glanced at Hermione, knowing they hadn’t. “Uh…”

“No matter,” the Healer said. “There’s plenty of time, but I wouldn’t wait if I were you.”

He continued waving his wand in circles for a few more minutes until he was satisfied. He tapped a piece of paper and a report came up. He placed this in a file and turned back to Hermione and Blaise.

“Now, there’s a small matter, some people like to know, others don’t,” the Healer said.

“What?” Hermione asked nervously.

“The sex of the baby,” the Healer said. “Would you like to know?”

“Yes,” said Blaise.

“No,” said Hermione at the same time. They looked at each other.

Blaise looked at Hermione for a second, then turned to the Healer. “No, don’t tell us.”

“Alright,” Healer Robinson said, looking between them. “In that case, Ms. Granger, you are perfectly healthy. Keep doing what you’re doing and you should be perfectly fine. Owl me if you have any problems.”

“Um, Healer?” Hermione asked. “What about Apparating?”

“Oh yes,” the Healer said. “You should be okay for another month or so, but after that I would stop any travel by Apparition.”

Hermione nodded, looking worried. Blaise saw this and stepped in. “Thank you, Healer. We’ll owl if we have any questions.”

He and Hermione left the office, the tinkling door swinging shut behind them. Once outside of the office, Blaise turned to Hermione.

“Are you going to answer my question now,” he asked, “or wait until after the baby is born?”

Hermione sighed as she stopped. After a second’s pause, she looked up at him. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m still not sure why you want to do this so much, but I do admit you have a point. Being closer to you, and in a bigger house, would be much easier when we finally have this thing.” She paused and stared over his shoulder. “I guess I’m trying to say is that I will move in with you.”

There was silence after her last words. Blaise could hardly believe she had agreed.

“You will?” he asked after a moment of digesting it.

Hermione nodded, moving her eyes to him. “Yes.”

“That’s great,” he said, breaking into a smile. He moved forward only to stop, unsure what he was going to do.

Hermione was staring at him, her eyes on his and her head tilted upward to look at him. Slowly, Blaise moved forward, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

Hermione blinked in surprise but said nothing as he backed away.

“When?” he asked, as though nothing unusual had just happened.

“I…” Hermione said, feeling slightly flustered from the kiss. “Soon, I guess.”

Blaise nodded, thinking. “You won’t need too much, your clothes, other small things, your books, of course.”

Hermione said nothing, still trying to figure out what had just happened. Blaise was talking as though the moment hadn’t existed.

“What about Sunday?” Blaise asked. When Hermione didn’t respond, he asked, “Hermione?”

“What?” Hermione asked, startled out of her musings. “Y-yes, Sunday’s fine.”

“Good, I’ll see you then,” Blaise said curtly, turning and Apparating away.

Hermione was left in front of the Healer’s office, confused and unable to explain what had just happened.

*