Malfoy and his Too-Big Heart
Against his better judgement, Draco decided not to pry into the conversation that Granger and Nott had just finished. Instead, Draco took a moment to watch Hermione. Her eyes were swollen, the waterline red-rimmed.
He didn’t want to assume the worst — after all, Nott left. Maybe he did have some common decency left in him.
Draco sat gingerly in the plastic seat, passing Willa over to her mother, and just watched the two of them as they interacted, which eventually led to a nap.
Draco had noticed that Granger’s vitals were unsteady after her interactions with Theo. He assumed that she was worked up, for some reason or another. He tried not to assume for the worst reasons.
While Granger slept, he took a moment to summon a mediwitch. The witch that appeared was the raven-haired, dark-skinned woman who seemed to take a little too much pleasure in holding Malfoy off when Hermione seized in front of him for the first time.
“Why is her heart rate so high?” Malfoy asked, casting a diagnostic charm in front of them. “And her temperature seems to be high–,”
“Typically,” The mediwitch said, “these are signs indicative of some sort of poisoning or venomous bite. Sometimes, they are signs of magical pregnancy–,”
“Is she pregnant?” Malfoy winced, a hand going to the back of his neck.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” The witch snapped, but then thought better of it. She was watching Willa sleeping in Granger’s arms. Something clicked behind the witch’s eyes. “I understand,” She said softly. “No, she is not pregnant, and no, it is not too early to tell. Magical pregnancies can be detected immediately upon conception–,”
Malfoy let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Willa to have a sibling, or even a half-sibling. He just wasn’t ready to let Hermione completely tie herself to Nott.
Not that he had any say in the matter.
He was also sure that even if Hermione did have a son or daughter with Nott, Draco would fall in love with the little thing. Even if it was Nott’s kid. But if that was what she wanted…and that was who she wanted…what choice did he have but to let her have him?
It had been so easy for Draco to love little Siri, and even Violet and Delphine, who were too much like their own mother for Draco to feel much warmth. He had surprised himself by his own capacity to want to fiercely protect the children that were not even his own.
It was terrifying to him – to be freefalling into fatherly love for his own daughter.
Malfoy had decided weeks ago that he wanted to make Willa his heir – he just didn’t want to trap Granger in an untenable situation. While he hadn’t forgiven her for taking his daughter from him, Malfoy felt as if he hadn’t looked hard enough for Granger after she left.
He also felt like he should have known that there was a strong chance she was pregnant, or that Willa had been born.
His mother’s bloodline carried latent seer magic. The dreams that plagued Malfoy for months after his coupling with Hermione had been troubling, to say the least.
He dreamed of a little boy, with curling hair like Hermione’s, and her own honey-soaked eyes. Malfoy assumed that it was wishful thinking on his part.
How he longed for a family of his own.
It was never really about carrying on the Malfoy legacy or even having someone to care for him as he aged. He wanted someone to give the love and affection he was starved of. How he so desperately loved. Malfoy was embarrassed by it, in typical repressed British wizard fashion.
It was why seeing Granger in the foyer of his home, holding a baby that quite resembled him, was so incredibly painful.
She had hidden from him.
And could he really blame her?
It was salt in the wound when he reconciled the words of Theo’s letter with the pair of Granger girls right in front of him. My wife and I need safe passage–
Theo had not only withheld information from him, but had well and truly lied to him.
The mediwitch interrupted Draco’s internal monologue, “Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco conveyed his confusion with a puzzled look on his face. “Yes?”
“I was saying that the cursebreakers are here,” she admonished.
Malfoy nodded solemnly, remembering the reason why he was even standing in St. Mungos in the first place. “Right-o,” He hummed. I should retire from this.
He wasn’t really sure where the thought came from. Malfoy shook his head, as if that was going to help clear his mind. He took one last look at Hermione and Willa through the observation glass and headed towards the elevator. There was a private meeting room on the fifth floor of the hospital for those who worked in magical law enforcement.
After handing the ring over to the unspeakable, a quiet man named William Dooley, Malfoy returned to Granger’s bedside. He wasn’t sure what to do about any of this.
When Lovegood returned, he excused himself for a while. He needed to think.