Mrs Malfoy

A/N: Oh gosh, the comments are so appreciated. I don’t think I’ve ever written a story this quickly before and I’m doing it because you all are so wonderful and make me so happy. :D

Draco_Lover—All I’ll say is soon. ;)

This chapter should make a lot of people happy (I hope).

~Charlie

Chapter 5

‘Draco!’ It was a sudden exclamation that came from her mouth, not intentionally, and not consciously, as she came to. Her eyes were still closed but she felt a hand wrapped around hers and knew that it was his.

‘I’m right here, love,’ he said. She sighed happily.

‘What happened?’ she asked softly, her head hurt.

‘You smacked your head pretty hard on the pavement outside your mum’s,’ he said. ‘It’s all healed up now, but they’re still running tests to see if it’ll have permanent effects.’

She opened her eyes and saw that she was in a hospital room. She was lying back on a bed with white starched sheets over her. Her mother was on one side of her, smiling down at her in a sad sort of way, and Draco was on the other side, looking concerned. There was a Medi-witch bustling around the room.

‘Lasting effects?’ she asked.

‘They’re not sure if it’ll make you stop losing your memory, or if it’ll maybe make it worse, or if it won’t change anything at all.’

‘I dearly hope that it’s the former.’

‘As do I, Hermione,’ Draco said. ‘It would make things so much easier.’ He paused. ‘Do you still not remember everything?’ It was with hesitancy that he asked this.

She shook her head slightly. ‘No, I don’t. I just remember Ron being a cheating bastard, and how we sort of got together, and…and my father.’

Draco kissed her forehead. ‘You’ll remember, trust me, you’ll remember.’

Tears glistened in Hermione’s eyes at his show of compassion. ‘I really hope so,’ she said. ‘Because I think I’m falling for you.’

He laughed shortly. ‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’

‘I’m not sure yet,’ she said with a slight smile.

‘Okay, Mrs Malfoy, can you please lift your shirt for me?’ The Medi-witch said, walking over to her and pulling the sheet down.

Hermione looked at the Medi-witch in confusion. ‘Why?’

‘To see if the foetus was harmed,’ the witch said.

Hermione’s head snapped to look at Malfoy. ‘I’m pregnant!?’

‘Fourteen weeks,’ he said with mirth in his eyes.

She pulled up her shirt and looked again at her tummy. She had noticed that it was a bit bigger, but she thought that it was just because she ate more. And…and the being sick—was that…had that been morning sickness? Was that why Malfoy was so ready with the hair clip and the toothbrush? ‘You impregnated me?’ she accused Malfoy.

He laughed. ‘You were very willing at the time, Hermione.’

‘But—but I…how could I not remember—how could I not realise that I was pregnant?’

‘There he is,’ the Medi-witch said as she performed the diagnostic spell. There was a tiny little outline of a baby hovering over Hermione’s tummy.

‘He?’ Hermione asked.

‘You’re having a boy, yes,’ the Medi-witch said. ‘And he’s perfectly healthy.’

‘Oh, Godric,’ Hermione said, her head hitting the pillows. ‘Oh, Merlin, I’m going to be a mot—’

She stopped and closed her eyes suddenly as the scene that she had dreamt that morning came flashing into her vision. Only this time it was not soundless and colourless. This time it was in technicolour and surround sound.

She was jumping on the huge mahogany bed in hers and Malfoy’s room. She was laughing and smiling and saying ‘Draco, Draco, Draco,’ over and over again. And Malfoy—Draco, was standing at the side of the bed watching her with amusement. He was smiling at her childishness.

Then he grabbed her ankles as she got too close so that she fell lying across the bed. And he moved up her body so that he was over her as he had been earlier that day when telling her about how he had convinced her to have sex with him as revenge to Ron.

And then he kissed her softly and as he pulled away he said, ‘we’re having another baby,’ in a happy voice. Hermione smiled largely and kissed him back.

Her eyes shot open. We’re having another baby.

Another baby.

Another baby.

‘I’m already a mother,’ Hermione voiced her epiphany. ‘Oh, Gods, Malfoy, I’m already a mother, aren’t I?’

He smiled softly. ‘Yes.’

Hermione felt tears spring up again and felt as though she was crying far too much that day. ‘Please, Draco, please tell me about him or her or them, please.’

He held her hand and smiled. ‘She,’ he said. ‘We have a daughter.’

‘Rose?’ she asked.

‘Rose,’ he confirmed.

‘Actually, it’s Narcissa Rose,’ Hermione’s mother said from her other side. ‘We all said that it sounded better than “Rose Narcissa” but everyone still calls her Rose.’

‘What does she look like?’ Hermione asked.

‘Just like you,’ Draco said. ‘She’s a blonde, but apart from that she’s your clone.’

‘How old is she?’

‘She just turned three.’

‘Where is she?’

‘She’s with my parents. They were watching her for a couple days anyway. We can go over there when you get out of here so you can see her.’

‘Oh, Godric,’ Hermione cried. ‘How could I not remember that? It’s bad enough that the man I thought I loved I now hate, and the man I thought I hated I now love, and I’m married and my father is gone, and I’m a dentist. But this…how could I forget being pregnant? How could I forget giving birth? How could I forget that I have a child?’

‘I know that I’ve never said it before, Hermione, but you have to know that I love you. I love you so fucking much.’

‘That’s good, Draco,’ she said with tears in her eyes. ‘Because we’re having a baby.’

‘You forget everything, Hermione,’ Draco said sadly.

Hermione looked into his face. His gorgeous face. He was older now, more mature. He definitely wasn’t the conniving little ferret that he had been in school. He had obviously still been when he had convinced her to shag him, but somehow in the years since then, he had changed. He had become this man.

And he loved her. He had to love her to do this every time she lost her memory. To take her around to her friends and her mother. To put up with her wanting to hex him and blame him for ruining her life. To still love her when she hated him.

She pulled her hand from his and he looked up at her. She put the now released hand to the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers. Their lips met softly, yet urgently. His lips were soft against hers, melding against them as if they were meant to be together. It was not like the urgent kisses that they had shared earlier, but a kiss that showed her how much he loved her and not just how much he desired her.

His lips moved away from hers and he breathed softly against her lips. ‘I love you,’ he said and nibbled her lower lip gently.

‘I’m pretty sure I love you, too,’ she murmured.

He smiled and kissed her again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Draco held Hermione’s hand as they walked together up the steps of a small house. It was apparently where Draco’s parents had been living since the war was over. They wanted to get away from life and death and mostly Death Eaters who were angry at Mrs Malfoy betraying the Dark Lord.

Hermione didn’t know why, but she was afraid. The elder Malfoys had never liked her, and she had never enjoyed seeing them. They had been cold and callous and mean and evil all of the years that she had known them. Of course, Draco had also been that way as well…

Malfoy opened the door and called: ‘Hiya, everyone!’

Hermione was still standing outside when she heard a bright voice say ‘Daddy!’ and little footsteps run towards the door. Draco bent down and picked up the little girl and Hermione saw blond curls flying everywhere.

Draco settled the girl onto his left hip and walked into the house. He turned around. ‘Coming in, love?’

‘Mummy!’ the little girl, Rose, smiled happily from her perch on her father’s hip.

Hermione felt her eyes tearing up once again as she followed Draco into his parents’ house. They walked into the lounge where Mr Malfoy was sitting back in an armchair, reading the evening Prophet, and Mrs Malfoy was sitting comfortably on a blanket on the floor that was covered in dolls and stuffed unicorns.

‘Mother, father,’ Draco said somewhat formally.

‘Draco, dear,’ Mrs Malfoy said with a smile. ‘I thought you were picking her up tomorrow?’

‘We are,’ Draco said. ‘Hermione’s had another relapse.’

Mr Malfoy put down his newspaper, stood up and walked over to Hermione. He towered over her by five or six inches as he looked down at her. Finally, he put out his hand. ‘Lucius Malfoy.’

She took his hand gingerly. ‘Yes, I know.’

‘I thought that perhaps you had in your head that I was “Mr Malfoy,”’ he commented. ‘Please, Hermione, call me Lucius.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can do that.’

He smirked. Gods that smirk must be genetic. ‘Try.’ He went back to sit in his chair by the fireplace, a small smile gracing his aristocratic features.

Draco smiled and nudged Hermione. ‘You’re the one that finally broke him, you know? He would never let you call him Lucius before.’

‘It’s Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger.’

‘I’m going to be your daughter-in-law in twenty-four hours! It’s Lucius!’

‘I’m Narcissa,’ Draco’s mother said from the floor. ‘I would get up, but it was a lot of effort to get down here in the first place.’

Hermione smiled and took a deep breath. ‘Narcissa.’ She turned to Mr Malfoy. ‘Lucius.’ She sighed. ‘Merlin, that’s weird.’

Draco laughed. ‘And this is Rose.’

Rose was currently poking her father in the chin, but she looked up when she heard her name. ‘Nacissa Wose Mafoy!’

Tears streamed down Hermione’s cheeks as she gently touched her daughter’s face. She ran a hand through her shining curls and smiled. Draco was wrong, Rose was not her clone. She had the same curls, but they were blond and softer than Hermione’s coarse ones. Rose had also inherited her father’s sharp facial features, though the roundness of Hermione’s made them even out somewhat. Hermione wasn’t narcissistic—she was probably one of the most modest people to roam this earth—but she thought that she and Draco had made one of the most beautiful children that she had ever seen.

‘You’re beautiful,’ Hermione told her daughter.

Rose smiled a big smile and then went back to poking Draco in the chin.