From Venice with Love

Hermione got through the next few weeks by living in a state of denial. She tried to convince herself that the test was wrong and her doctor would tell her so. She and Draco would laugh and then never forget to use a contraceptive spell again. They didn’t talk about it either. She didn’t think he believed the test was wrong, he was just waiting for her to face it.

She boarded the Hogwarts Express to return home with a feeling of dread she tried to push away as she went on with her Head Girl duties patrolling the compartments. She stopped to talk to Harry and Ginny for awhile and felt a chill as the train chugged into London.

“Are you sure you can’t visit at all?” Ginny said as they brought their trunks onto the platform.

“No, we’ll be gone for most of the holiday. I’ll write though,” Hermione promised. She hugged Ginny, Harry and Ron and hugged Mrs. Weasley at the platform. She met her own parents at the entrance to Kings Cross, meeting Draco outside before approaching.

“Hello, dear,” her mother said, hugging her tight.

“Hello, Mum, Dad,” Hermione said, hugging her father as well.

“Draco, good to see you,” her father shook his hand and her mother hugged him.

“Hello Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger,” Draco said politely. He and her father loaded the trunks into the car and they drove to the Grangers’ house, chattering about school. It was a fairly large two story house in a good suburb of London. Hermione’s parents, both being dentists, had a nice house and fairly expensive possessions. Nothing compared to the Malfoy’s, she was sure, but they were comfortable.

“What a nice house,” Draco said, and Mrs. Granger smiled.

Hermione took him on a tour that included the kitchen, game room, study, dining room , and her room, her parents’ room and the two spare bedrooms on the second floor. Hermione’s father put her trunk in her room and Draco’s in the guestroom furthest away from hers, which Hermione found funny. They were left to unpack as Mrs. Granger fixed lunch.

Hermione was almost done unpacking when Draco came in and leaned against the doorframe. “No servants at all?” he said. “I’m sure your parents can afford it.”

“It’s not a question of affording it, we just don’t choose to have them,” Hermione said, shutting her drawer. “You’ll have to make your own bed, I’m afraid.”


Draco raised his eyebrows. “I think it’ll just stay unmade,” he said.

“Don’t act all high and mighty around my parents, please.” Hermione frowned at him.


“Of course not.” He came into the room and hugged her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” She sighed and laid her cheek on his chest. “At least after tomorrow I won’t be worried anymore.”

“Hmmm,” was all Draco said.

“Do you want me to be pregnant?” she asked suddenly.


“No, I’m just realistic. I’ve made my peace with it,” he said. “I’m stuck with you.”

“Really? Stuck with me, are you?” She smiled at him. “I think it’s more the other way around.”

“Really? You get a gorgeous husband, tons of money, what do I get? Dentists. Who is getting the better deal?”


“You are an arrogant arse,” Hermione laughed. “I’ve never actually said I’d marry you, you know.” She teased. “I’m sure there’s loads of men wanting to take me on.”

“Yes, I see the line outside,” Draco said, dryly. “I expect it will get longer the fatter you get.”

“Oh, shut up!” Hermione hit him lightly.


“Lunch!” Her mother called and laughing, they both went downstairs.

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The next day, she and Draco set off at ten in a taxi to see Hermione’s doctor. Her parents had no idea Draco was going since they were both at work, they thought he would just be watching telivision while she was gone. They got into the waiting room and Draco stared into space while Hermione flipped through a magazine.

“Hermione Granger!” called the nurse, and they both jumped. Getting up quickly, they followed her into a small room where the nurse gave Hermione a cup to take a urine sample. Once that was done, they were taken to the doctor’s office to wait. They sat in silence until the doctor came in.

“Hermione, good to see you again,” she said, shaking Hermione’s hand.

“Hello, Dr. Goodeve. This is my boyfriend, Draco.”

“Hello,” the doctor shook his hand as well.

“Well, you are here because you believe you may be pregnant, is that correct?”


Hermione nodded.

Dr. Goodeve looked in the chart. “Well Hermione, you are correct. You are definitely pregnant.”


Draco didn’t bat an eye, but Hermione looked as if she would be sick.

“Are you okay?” the doctor asked and Hermione nodded. “Good, let’s move to an exam room and see how far along you are.”

Numbly, Hermione got up and followed the doctor and Draco across the hall to an exam room where the doctor gave her a robe to put on and left the room. Still not speaking, Hermione changed into the gown and they waited in silence, Draco sitting in a chair, and Hermione perched anxiously on the exam bed.

Dr, Goodeve came back in pushing a machine. “Draco, if you could step out of the room for a moment, I’m going to do an internal exam.”

“Okay,” Draco said, walking out.

“He seems to be alright with this,” Dr, Goodeve said as she did the exam.

“He was expecting it,” Hermione said, trying to breathe. “I was the one who didn’t believe it.”

“You can sit up now,” the doctor said. “Before I let him back in, Hermione, are you sure you want this baby?”

“Want it?” Hermione repeated. “No. But I’m not going to get rid of it, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll get used to it eventually.”

“You’re sure?” Hermione nodded.”Alright then.” She let Draco back in and pulled the machine around. “The sonogram will tell us how far along you are. It’s not entirely accurate, but it will be fairly close.”

“A what?” Draco said, eyeing the machine. “Will it hurt her?”

“No,” the doctor said, getting it ready. “Draco, look at the monitor.”

Draco and Hermione both turned to the monitor and saw static along with what looked like, to Hermione to be a bean. “You see there?” the doctor pointed at a strobing dark spot. “that’s the baby’s heart. There is it’s head. It’s moving, see how it’s jumping around.”


“That’s what the baby looks like?” Draco leaned closer to the screen, fascinated. Hermione also was captivated by it’s little dance across the screen.

“Hold on,” Dr. Goodeve said freezing the screen. “According to this you are around nine weeks pregnant and you’d be due around July 8th.” She printed a picture out and gave it to Hermione. “I’ll go get your vitamins. Everything seems to be fine. I know you go to boarding school Hermione, so you’ll need to find a doctor there. You need to be monitored once a month.”

She left the room and Hermione sat up and held the picture. Draco looked at it over her shoulder. “ It isn’t moving,” he said.

“Muggle pictures don’t move,” she said quietly, still trying to let the sonogram sink in. That thing was in her, moving at this very second. She looked down at her stomach. “I’ll need to get a book,” she said.

“Isn’t that a surprise,” Draco commented.”We can stop on the way back.”

“I guess I should tell my parents.” Hermione said, still looking at the picture.

“We should wait until after Christmas,” Draco said. “Preferably until a few minutes before we leave.”

“Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a silly,” she said. “They won’t actually kill you, that would leave their grandchild fatherless.”

“That makes me feel loads better,” Draco said, nudging her.

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“The baby is an inch long,” Hermione said from her seat in her room. It was Christmas eve and they were waiting for her parents to call them to dinner.

“You said that last week,” Draco said, looking up from his Transfiguration textbook. He was laying on her bed, writing out an essay Hermione had already finished the week before.


“Yes, but this week it’s called a foetus, not an embryo.” Hermione held the book up for him to see the pictures. “See?”

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I’ll just take your word,” he said, beginning to write again.


Hermione felt a lot more comfortable with the idea of being pregnant now that she had read a few books on the matter. She bored Draco daily with new tidbits of information. Usually, he just nodded, but sometimes he would come look at what she was talking about. The first week of vacation had passed quickly. It had snowed and they took a few walks in the snow. Draco acted like Hermione might break if he was rough with her and as much as she complained, Hermione secretly loved being pampered. She still wasn’t happy about the turn of events, but she was coming to accept them.

“Dinner!” her mother called and they went downstairs. Mrs. Granger had made a wonderful dinner and Draco told her so. She beamed. “Wait until tomorrow!” she said proudly.


Afterwards, Hermione helped her mother put some trimmings on the tree and they sat in the living room by the fire, playing cards until ten when Hermione stood up and yawned. “I’m going to bed,” she said, smiling. “Good night.”

“I’ll go as well,” Draco said, getting up quickly. “Goodnight, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger.”


“Good night, Draco, Hermione. Sleep well.”

They walked upstairs and Draco left Hermione at her door. “Goodnight,” he said, kissing her softly.

“Goodnight,” Hermione said softly back. She changed into her pyjamas and laid down on her bed. She put both her hands on her still flat stomach and imagined the life in there. She wondered whether it was a boy or a girl, what colour hair it would have. She wondered if she would be a good mother, if Draco would be a good father and whether or not they would have a happy marriage. She drifted into sleep on that thought, her hands still over her stomach.