We Can Work It Out

It was February 8, 2008 and twenty-seven year old Hermione Granger found herself unable to look away from the display in the shop window across from the Greek deli where she ate her lunch every Tuesday. Maybe it was the fact that she’d just been to three baby showers in the past month or maybe it was watching Lavender Weasley fill out with Ron’s first born, but something in the shop window at Matilda’s Nursery pulled at her like a siren. The storefront beckoned and called to her, luring her with soft knitted booties meant to go over tiny feet.

“Honestly, Granger, are you even listening to me?” an annoyed voice drawled from the seat across from hers.

“What? I’m sorry, Malfoy, what were you saying?” Hermione turned and faced her co-worker, the man she shared an office with and tried to discern what he’d been saying.

“Humph, I was talking about Shinnston’s reports but if you would rather daydream about dirty nappies and clothes covered in spit-up, then be my guest.” The pale blonde man took another bite out of his gyro and stuck his nose up in the opposite direction and it was all Hermione could do to not laugh at him. Even though he looked every inch the intimidating male, she knew that the spoiled eleven year old boy she first met could reappear at the drop of a hat. He only let certain people see that side of him and she was one of about three. It didn’t matter that he’d been talking about work, he’d have been this ruffled if she ignored him while he was talking about lint on his shirt.

The two had worked together for almost eight years and Hermione felt that they operated like fraternal twins. They were the judicial advocates for Hogwarts in the Ministry of Magic and Hermione was a member of the wizengamot. Together, they maintained the safety, integrity and standards of their alma mater and supervised a staff of about eight. They often spoke in unison, finished each other’s sentences and behaved like a cultured Fred and George Weasley. Christine Dover, the youngest member of their staff referred to them as ‘Mum and Dad Education’. This did not please Draco one bit. Christine was no beauty by anybody’s standards, but he couldn’t take the blow to his ego that an eighteen year old referred to him as ‘Dad’ and not in the bedroom sense.

“What about them? I thought they were on time for once,” she stirred her salad looking for any tomatoes she might have missed.

“They were on time, but he left out the statistics about first year transfiguration. If we’re going to judge the effectiveness of Loony Lovegood’s new learning method, we need the scores of both Transfiguration and Charms to judge the results. Why are you still looking at that awful store?” he demanded and this time she did laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You are. You would think that I was making moon eyes at a minor while we were in an office meeting and not having lunch at Acropolis. I’m listening, I promise and once we get back I’ll make sure that Shinnston gets me the rest of the statistics. Now why are you so offended that I’m window shopping?”

“I’m offended because you are having lunch with me. Most women I take to lunch unnerve me with how much they stare at me, not that I can blame them.”

“Malfoy, I eat lunch with you four days a week at minimum. I’m well aware of what you look like. Besides, I can listen to you while I look at other things.”

“But why look at a baby shop? Babies are they only reason you would stare into that place and since you’ve already attended your quota of baby showers this season, I thought you would be well rid of the things. They’re screaming, squirming, pooping machines. Dear Lord, you’re not up the duff are you?” He seemed genuinely appalled that she would allow something like that to happen.

“No,” she said quietly, thinking of Ron. “Do you really hate babies that much?”

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t see what the fuss is all about. They’re alright once they get older and can go to the loo on their own.” Draco looked away uncomfortably and was about to roll his sleeve up due to the overly warm heating charm in the restaurant, but stopped and merely readjusted his cufflinks.

Hermione knew what he had been about to reveal. In the place where the Dark Mark had once been imprinted on his skin there was now a raised, purplish-red scar that looked as if he’d been burned. Only she herself, Harry and Blaise Zabini ever saw it. Even when he slept with random women, which he did quite often, he always made sure to cast a disillusionment charm over the flesh. Doing so now in the over-heated restaurant would draw too much attention to a painful memory.

“Well, I think they’re lovely. I think Harry and Ginny are very fortunate to be expecting a third.”

“This is about Weasley, isn’t it?” he said. Damn him. He always could read her a little too well. She looked at him and nodded. “You do realize that if he had stayed with you, you would have had the most horrendous looking babies in the entire world, don’t you? They would have had poofy, red, curly hair and been gangly like house-elves and you would have spent all your time chasing after them because there would have been too many to count.”

She grinned, “I do know contraceptive charms and besides, I think curly red hair on a little girl would be beautiful.”

“With the Weasleys, though you would have to go through seven boys just to get your little girl and I have a strong suspicion that weasel sperm is impervious to contraceptive charms and potions. How else do you explain the way they breed? Besides, you are doing far better and greater things with your life than that Violet girl, or whatever her name is.” He got up and out of habit, paid their bill, glaring at the proprietor as he stared at Hermione in her proper, but curve hugging dress.

“Her name is Lavender. You should remember, the two of you slept together at Hogwarts.” Hermione gave the young Greek wizard a flirtatious smile just to annoy Draco.

“No we didn’t. She started that rumor and at the time it behooved me not to deny it. Now however, I can openly claim that I have no idea what the slag looks like naked.”

“Well, there has to be an exception to every rule.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Granger?” They began their walk back to the phone booth that would take them to the Ministry.

“I just mean that you aren’t very picky when it comes to bed partners.”

“You’re one to talk! Besides the weasel, who was the last steady boyfriend you had? Your bi-monthly trips to Bulgaria do not count.”

Hermione blushed. “Still, at least I can still claim quality over quantity. I don’t see any of them again because our job is very demanding and it wouldn’t be fair to start a relationship with someone who came in second.” They were in the ministry now and making their way towards the office.

“This is what I was talking about. You and I are career people. We don’t do nappies and finding bottles and sleepless nights. What we do makes a difference in the world. For the first time in ages, Hogwarts is being run with complete efficiency and the only reason the Ministry is involved is because the school board created our office. Instead of hindering the teachers, we help them. You want to give all that up because you’re jealous of a tart who is going to get fat and saggy.” He took off his cloak and sat at his desk in his corner of the room.

“I never said I would give this up, I just think that maybe having something other than my job might be nice.” Draco just stared at her incredulously before starting to work. Hermione grinned at his blonde head fondly and began making corrections to Shinnston’s report.

As she made the proper notations to her writings for Shinnston, she looked over at the man who she spent most of her time with now. When he’d come to the Order, bleeding and asking for sanctuary, she had been one of the few to approach him outside of official meetings. Most people ignored him or were outright contempt filled at his presence. During those times, she realized how very similar they were. They were both hard-working, dedicated and almost blindly loyal to those they loved. They were different enough that they still argued, but after being in the Order together, they had a grudging respect that had turned into genuine admiration for another. Each one valued the other’s opinion.

After the fall of Voldemort, they had gone their separate ways and Hermione believed that she would never see him again. She’d been surprised when he showed up in her department and even more shocked to discover that he was her new partner. Over the years, their friendship grew. They worked diligently together to make certain that Hogwarts would never be under the same corruption it was when they were in school and they dedicated themselves to ensuring that the very best of curriculums was taught at their beloved school.

Hermione thought of how much more prominent in her life he was than Ron or Harry now. Like with most friendships, the Golden Trio had grown apart over the years. Unfortunately, Hermione and Ron’s romance had been a casualty of that trick of fate. She and Ron had been together from the age of seventeen until she turned twenty-four and she had gone through her life expecting things to stay that way. That is until one day she was walking back from eating lunch with Draco and spotted Ron with Lavender Brown in a very romantic restaurant holding hands and looking very much more than friendly. When she confronted him about it, he had told her the truth and they had broken up. No fighting, no tears, no hexing, just a simple division of their possessions. Molly and Arthur had been aghast and even got Ron to get rid of Lavender for a moment to attempt a reunion. Hermione had not been interested, choosing instead to forgo Sunday dinners at the Burrow so that the discomfort of having both Ron’s ex and his wife in the same room wouldn’t have to be endured.

Ginny had opted to go to Hermione’s side when it happened, foregoing the weekly meals as well. She kept it up until she got pregnant and the twins she now had took up most of her time. Harry had stayed out of the mess as much as he could and Hermione still saw him and Ginny at least three times a month, along with their children. Mrs. Weasley often asked her around for tea and Hermione found she couldn’t say no. Her own parents were gone and it was comforting to be around Molly when she missed her own mother so much. However, she no longer felt that sense of belonging at the Burrow.

The only place that felt right anymore was her office with Draco. The two had developed an unorthodox friendship and Hermione knew that she was one of the few people he had in his support system. His mother was dead and his father had been kissed, so that meant he was an orphan as well. Even though Harry had cleared him of all charges, Draco still had to fight for any position in the ministry. His motives were constantly questioned as were his abilities. It seemed that years of Lucius buying favors had finally caught up and no one believed a Malfoy capable of anything other than spending money. He worked constantly to prove himself and to get past the prejudice of past mistakes and his parentage. She supposed that that was the reason they got on so well, despite their differences.

He had been correct that she hadn’t had a steady boyfriend for quite sometime, but she also hadn’t been without a lover, either. She didn’t consider it wrong to enjoy sex as long as both partners were quite aware of the circumstances. It wasn’t her fault that she had a busy career and so far no man had made her want to trade that lifestyle for one at home with him. Her trips to Bulgaria were not necessarily the booty-call trips that Draco thought they were. Yes, she and Viktor had once been lovers, but they had always been friends first and foremost. Besides, Viktor had finally come out with his boyfriend and Hermione’s trips were more like the girl-talk sessions she used to enjoy with Ginny. Viktor and Alexei often tried to fix her up with their teammates, but Hermione wouldn’t have it. She was devoted to her career, but she was still a family girl at heart. She didn’t want to completely drop her career, but she did want to cut back her hours and spend time with a man she loved and their children, playing scrabble or wizard’s chess or going out to eat and then helping her child pick out a book at Flourish and Blott’s. That didn’t seem to be a feasible option, though, because so far no one she met made her feel at home the way Ron and Harry had and no one intrigued her enough to put aside the work she did with Draco.

Looking at the man in her thoughts she smiled to herself. She’d always had to feel needed and since Ron and Harry no longer needed her, she was free to take on a very needy Draco. He had innumerable one night stands, but since she and Ron had split, Hermione was always on his arm at ministry functions and dinners. Whenever he got too pissed to aparate home, it was Hermione that the bartender would floo. If he needed new clothes, he dragged her with him and made her sit for hours while he tried things on and twisted in the mirror. When he’d gotten very sick from food poisoning, Hermione discovered that she was his emergency contact. She had gone to pick him up and the hospital released him into her care and she then discovered that she was the only one besides himself that the wards at Malfoy Manor were set to recognize. She had stayed with him for two days until he got better.

Even though she was essentially his mother, this did not mean that their relationship was all sunshine and roses. They still argued about everything from house elf rights to her taste in men to her sense of fashion. He constantly picked at her and almost everyone she chose to spend time with and her heartache over Ron almost gave him apoplexy whenever it inconveniently surfaced. He was a source of comfort for her, but he was snarky comfort and Hermione liked it that way. He didn’t treat her like a boring bookworm or a delicate flower. She spent almost everyday with him.

It was the fact that she spent everyday with her co-worker that got her thinking. Her flat was cozy but lonely and she was beginning to wonder if anyone other than Ginny, Harry and Draco would ever see the inside of it. Her work was fulfilling for her, but that was all there was to her life. Looking around her office again she wondered if this was *it*. Was this really all her life would amount to? When she died, her belongings would be put into a box and handed over to one of three aforementioned people or put up for auction or placed in a museum.

She should be happy. She was a walking legend and her work did matter, the way Draco said it did, but she wanted more. She wanted to be a mother. She’d always thought that she would have at least two by now. All she had was Draco and her ‘staff children’. She sat there looking at the grown man across from her, grumbling about somebody’s report having jelly on it and realized without a doubt that she wanted a child.

Having her course made clear to her, she thrust aside Shinnston’s corrected reports and began making lists of ways that she could make this happen. She was ahead of her work schedule as usual so she could use this time to make up various plans and find the flaws with each one, giving her the best course of action. Hermione Granger was going to get pregnant.

A/N- Hey guys! Yes, I'm starting another story, but I haven't forgotten about Sold or Midnight. I found this on my old computer and decided to post it. Please review and I hope all is well with everyone!