We Can Work It Out

Hermione waited anxiously as she watched her bodily fluids move up the indicator on the pregnancy test stick and saw two lines appear. She was sitting in a petrol station loo outside of Brighton and finding out if she was pregnant. There was a knock on the door.

“What did that one say?” Draco’s annoyed voice came through the door. Hermione looked at the other five positive tests sitting in a clear plastic bag.

“It’s another positive,” she said as she opened the door. Draco looked startlingly handsome in a charcoal grey muggle sweater and fawn colored trousers.

“Well, then I’d say we’re definitely pregnant.” He was caught off guard when she squealed and launched herself at him, hanging off of his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist. He wrapped his arms around her, however, and put his chin on her head. “Can we go eat now? I’m starving and I’ve been driving around all morning watching you drink far more tea and Fantna than any human being should consume so that you could pee on six different sticks.”

“Yes, we can go eat, and it’s Fanta,” she said as she hopped off of him and pulled him back to his BMW. He got the two of them in his silver car and drove towards Brighton Beach and a little diner she knew about that was near the pier.

As they walked in the door of the restaurant, she thought about how she had gotten pregnant, something she had avoided thinking about until now.

~~~ FLASHBACK~~~

“You’re certain that you want to do this? There will be no going back after this. We’ll always have to acknowledge that we’ve had sex.” Hermione stood in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor in a plum dress that draped around her curves, holding a vial of fertility potion. It was March now and according to her calculations, she was ovulating.

“This is what you would have done with Blaise,” Draco said, defiance in his voice.

“No, I wouldn’t have.” She tried to assure him. She was nervous and not because she was hoping to get pregnant.

“Either way, what he said was true. Your baby shouldn’t be a test tube baby. He’ll be heir to the Malfoy fortune as well. I want this to occur in his ancestral home as old fashioned and unnecessary as it may seem.” His grey eyes held hers for a few moments before darting away. Hermione had never seen him so unsure of himself.

“Okay then,” she said. She uncorked the vial and downed the potion and waited for him to make a move. Her brain kept nagging her that this was an awful idea, but something in her made her ignore the over active organ in her head. She had never seen him as sexual before, but she was now forced to acknowledge that he was an incredibly fit male specimen.

Draco stared at her a moment before finally stepping forwards and kissing her. It was soft, sweet, unsure and something else she couldn’t name. She kissed him back and when he lightly touched her lips with his tongue, she opened and allowed him to explore her fully. He tasted like cinnamon and cloves and the feel of him was at once exotic and familiar. She moved her arms up instinctively around his neck and played with the fine hair on the base of his neck. He hadn’t had a haircut in a while so she could thread her fingers through it and have the ends still pouring across the back of her hands like silk.

He apparently enjoyed that quite a bit because he almost savagely pulled her to him and pressed himself against her as if he was on fire and she was a body of water. His arms were wrapped around her and his hands moved over her body, drawing moisture and heat to her core. Her eyes were closed because they were still kissing and that made her doubly aware of his erection pressing into her stomach. He was impossibly hard and it felt like a steel rod. She waited for some feeling of awkwardness, a feeling of incest maybe, but it never came. Maybe he was just that skilled. He’d certainly had enough practice with enough different women to be considered an expert.

He walked her towards the bed until her legs hit the back of it. It was high enough off the ground and she was short enough that it hit her thighs rather than her knees. As soon as it did, he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. They were bright and shining, his pupils dilated so that the mercury silver of his irises was only a thin band. She wanted to speak, but couldn’t find any words as he deftly undid the buttons on the back of her dress, sliding his large hands over the newly exposed skin before pulling the dress from her and letting it fall to the floor. She decided that if it was time for her to be undressed, he should be as well.

She skillfully removed his shirt. Most of the men she slept with were the kind to wear button-up shirts, so she was quite practiced at making them disappear. She pulled it out of his trousers and over his head, revealing his toned torso. His skin was pale and overly taut in some places, but he was beautiful. She had seen him countless times, but it had always been in a clinical, detached mode. She let her fingers run over his torso, making the skin jump and goose bumps appear. No wonder he slept with so many women, she thought. Only a few touches and he was ready to go.

Hermione kicked her shoes off and then slid backwards onto the bed before moving to her knees. In this position she was at eye level with him and the buttoned fly of his trousers was at easy access. She trailed her hands along his hip bones at the waist band, sliding her fingers back around and digging her nails just slightly into his porcelain skin. He hissed and crushed her to him as his lips sought out her neck. They latched onto her pulse point and Hermione’s thoughts went spinning out of control. She needed him to stop, it was killing her. She would kill him if he did stop.

“Merlin, Draco, I never knew you had this in you,” she was breathing heavily as she unfastened his trousers. She expected him to smirk, but when she looked in his eyes she could only see an intensity of emotion. He seemed almost angry.

Draco tore the black lace bra from her body and took one of her pert, heavy breasts into his mouth, suckling and worrying the bud of her nipple furiously as she moaned out loud. He massaged the other into a peak before covering that one with his mouth. His arms coiled around her and he picked her up, falling on top of her as he did so, making the bed shake underneath them.

It was like being attacked. His hands and arms were everywhere; stroking, touching, squeezing every bit of flesh he came across. He slid her knickers off her legs and kissed his way back up to her face, nuzzling and moaning as he did.

“God and goddess, you have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? You have no idea how good you feel, how good you smell.” Every word was accentuated with a kiss, a lick or a suck on various parts of her body and Hermione was heady with the feeling of being worshipped. Everything felt frenzied, yet almost ritual. It reminded her of the Beltane rites she had witnessed but never participated in. When his tongue touched her entrance, she decided that if the old religion worshipped the goddess and sacred feminine like this, she would become a devout member. She whimpered and gasped as Draco seemed intent on sucking every last drop of aroused moisture from between her legs. She came with a throaty scream and continued to kiss and lick at her core, soothing the flesh with kitten licks fluttery kisses while she drifted back to reality.

At last he pulled her up and knelt on the bed. He picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Hermione looked down at his erection jutting confidently out from a thatch of dark blonde hair between his legs. ‘Perfect’ was the only word she could use to describe it. It certainly wasn’t the thickest or the longest she’d ever come across, but he certainly wasn’t small either. The head was perfectly tapered and looked like a carving. The pulsing vein on the underside called to her and so she wrapped her hand around him and gave a few firm, experimental pumps. He closed his eyes and she explored the silky texture some more before she was thrown on her back without warning. With a growl he was between her legs and she could feel his manhood pressing tantalizingly at her entrance, teasing and flirting with her opening.

“Is this what you want?” he asked and for once she couldn’t read the expression on his face. His eyes were the color of storm clouds and looked just as volatile. His jawline was set and Hermione could scarcely breathe. Why had she never noticed him before? It was the slight tremble of his chin and the quick look to the scar on his left forearm that alerted her to the fact that he was unsure of himself, that he was actually nervous about her.

She picked up his arm and ran her tongue over the length of what used to be the brand of the darkest wizard in Europe. She then placed soft, open mouthed kisses over the entire burned area as she nuzzled her face against his limb.

“I want YOU to give me a baby, Draco. I want to have YOUR baby.” As soon as she said the words, Hermione knew they were true. Draco never looked away from her, but pushed slowly forwards, filling her body, stretching her opening and making her feel complete. When he was fully sheathed inside of her, he let out the breath she hadn’t even known he was holding and she smiled up at him like a fool. Before she could stop herself, she said, “I love that I’m doing this with you.”


~~~ END FLASHBACK~~~

As they ate in the diner, Hermione half-listened as Draco fussed over his eggs and sausages and the fact that they were getting stared at because of his car. He thought the reason they were getting stared at was because they could tell he wasn’t muggle and he kept asking her if he was dressed appropriately. The BMW model he was driving was one of only twelve in existence and wreaked of wealth. Hermione tried relating it to being in a village that had only Cleansweep racing brooms and flying in on a Firebolt. He continued to fuss and fidget.

As he did, Hermione noticed that his eyes were practically glowing and though his face was schooled into an aristocratic mask of mild interest his cheeks were slightly pink, meaning he was excited. It was only three weeks since they’d gone through it, but it felt as if they had weathered three years of bonding in that time. She’d stayed about three quarters of her nights at the manor since the conception and even though they always slept in the same bed, they hadn’t had sex at all. They had cuddled in front of the telly, slept wrapped around each other and there had even been a lot more of chaste, friendly kisses on the cheeks, nose and forehead, but nothing more than what they had done before. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something felt different and it felt good.

She knew it was her own rule that they were not to sleep together after she got pregnant, but she was suddenly plagued with thoughts of ‘what if?’. She knew that Draco loved her as a friend and something more, but could they ever love each other in a romantic way? Was she only feeling this way because he was the father of her baby? Draco had never been in a committed monogamous relationship since she had known him. It would make no sense for him to start one with her after years of platonic friendship, but she sometimes felt as if she were in a relationship with him now. One in which they did not shag and did not look at each other’s naughty bits under any circumstance. What did it mean? Was he feeling any of this as well? He was more open with his affection and he certainly got put out whenever she insisted on sleeping in her own flat, but he also seemed to be avoiding the topic of the mind-blowing shagging they had done that evening and the following morning.

“Hermione, are you listening to me?” That was another thing: since they’d slept together, they’d used their first names when addressing each other. It wasn’t a huge change, but to Hermione it seemed to be a very big deal.

“I’m sorry, I just spaced out for a few seconds. It’s been an exciting morning and I’m a little overwhelmed. What were you saying?” She grinned at him and he reached out and touched her face.

“You’re not feeling faint are you? I’ve read that that can come with morning sickness. Eat your eggs, you need the protein. Maybe you need to lie down for awhile. I can get us a room over at one of the inns. There’s nothing spectacular here, but they are what you would call shabby chic and I can get you one that has a view of the ocean from the bed. Maybe there’s a doctor in town who can take a look at you.”

“Don’t be silly, Draco. I’m just a little tired and it’s nothing a little bit of coffee can’t fix. Ouch!” When she reached for the carafe the waiter had placed on the end of their table Draco slapped her hand away and poured all the liquid into his own cup, downing it.

“No! No more coffee, no more lattes and no more of those fizzy cola drinks. I can’t let you get high blood pressure or miscarry and I won’t let my son have an undescended testicle or a heart attack in the womb. You may still have your morning tea, but after that nothing but herbal tea, juices and water.”

“Oh, may I?” Hermione asked sarcastically. “Seriously, Draco, I’ve read up on this as well and one cup of coffee won’t harm our baby. Also, I am not made out of glass so while I appreciate your concern, I don’t need you to treat me like an invalid. My mother and all of her sisters and my grandmother all had a very easy time with pregnancy. I’ll be fine.”

“My mother had four miscarriages before me and my younger brother was still born. It nearly destroyed her and I won’t let that happen to you. You have no idea what it’s like to watch someone go through that and I don’t know if I could bear having that happen with you and my own child.” He looked so determined she couldn’t help but smile. She remembered the magazines from Dr. Feldman’s office and decided that she could give up caffeine if it made him feel better. She had forgotten that child bearing for most pure blooded families was a time of more fearful anticipation rather than joyful anticipation.

“Fine, no caffeine but in lieu of that, I now demand that you buy me pastries from Francois’ bakery whenever I ask for them and there will be no snide comments on how fat they’ll make me.” Francois Micheaux was a master baker that used only the finest organic ingredients for his sinfully delightful baked goods and Draco despised going into his girly little shop because it reminded him so much of Madame Puddifoot’s. He often refused to set foot in the shop even though he passed it every morning on the way to work, telling Hermione that he was saving her from having an ass as fat Professor Sprout’s when she got older.

“Ugh, you horrid little swindler. Fine, I’ll do it, but hopefully your cravings will lean more to the salty side and I can buy you a salt lick.”

My aunt had cravings for salt, but my mother had an oral fixation and my father went nuts keeping her in supply of cherry lollies.”

“Hm, hopefully we can combine the two. I’ve got something you can suck on for your oral fixation that’s got a salty surprise at the end,” he said and Hermione gaped at him as he smirked at her.

“Draco Malfoy! You cheeky little bugger!” She couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. Besides, it would be a healthy shot of protein every morning.” He met her shocked gaze, but turned to the side and she saw a faint blush on his pale skin. Was he flirting with her? She didn’t know how to take that so she ignored it for the time being.

“What did you even want to talk to me about in the first place?” She reached over to where he had taken out a fountain pen and begun writing several lists out on the paper place mat.

“We need to start shopping. Babies require a lot of accessories according to what I’ve read and we’ll need to set up the nursery at the manor since I was the last child who lived in it and the décor is quite dated. Also, you’ll be needing a whole new wardrobe. I need to have the elves come up with a prenatal diet and we’ll also need to set up space in our office for a cot as I suspect you’ll want to get back to work as soon as possible and you won’t want to leave our son at home. We have the rest of the day, so if you aren’t tired I think that maybe we could look at some of the shops here before we go home. You are staying again tonight, aren’t you?” Draco Malfoy was farther ahead in the planning of their baby than she was.

Hermione had to pinch herself as she shook her head yes. This was exactly what she would have wanted for her child and what she expected from a father, but she couldn’t wrap her brain around the fact that Draco Malfoy was the father in question. He was excited about their baby, planning for its arrival and flirting with her as he invited her to stay the night in his home, yet again. At some point she would analyze every last little detail and nuance of the past three weeks, but for now, she just wanted to enjoy the day that she found out she was pregnant. She wanted to wander through the boutiques and pick out layettes and bonnets and keepsake boxes that would be used by her baby and not be sent off to some other friend or acquaintance. Tomorrow she would think of reasons as to why she was playing house with Draco and why it felt so right.

a/n- Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! At the end of this story I will thank you all personally. Thank you also for your patience. My life has been very hectic and I wish I could do nothing but write fan fiction, however, I do need to eat.  Your reviews are my ambrosia! Cheers!