An Unexpected guest at Nott Manor
It had been a busy day, delegating the work out to the rest of the team but Hermione had faith in Theo, he had been her right hand man this entire year and while at first she had been dubious about how serious he was, at the heart of it he cared about magical creatures and she knew he would look after the department. Hermione glanced at the clock, it was just after three and usually she would be here till all hours but she knew she wanted to get home and that Theo would forgive her for skipping out on their dinner. Waving her wand, she sent a note to his desk excusing herself and apologising.
Hermione reached the atrium, which was still bustling with people going about their day but thankfully no one stopped her as she reached her floo. The floo network roared to life, emerald flames licking at Hermione’s heels as she stepped into the fireplace. “Weasley Cottage” she calls, her voice echoing slightly in the small, enclosed space. The flames swirled, momentarily engulfing her before spitting her out onto the hearth rug in the living room of her and Ron’s home. She stumbled slightly, before steadying herself on the mantle. The last few weeks at the Ministry had been a whirlwind of paperwork and goodbyes, and all she craved was a warm bath and a quiet evening in with Ron.
“Ron?” she called, she wasn’t sure if he would be back yet from Harry’s, but she toed off her shoes, leaving them by the door. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the ministry and she relished the silence for a moment. “Ron, I’m home” she called again, a hint of weariness in her voice. Still no answer. Heading towards the kitchen, she considered stepping back into the floo and heading to catch up with Harry and Ginny herself, she had missed them both but her body was tired, and she knew Ginny was likely to pop over in the morning for breakfast.
Hermione pulled off her robes, dropping them onto the sofa, when a sound stopped her in her tracks. A soft moan, followed by a whispered giggle. The sound was coming from the spare bedroom, the one they used for guests, or more accurately, the one that had become a dumping ground for Ron’s quidditch equipment. Hermione’s heart began to pound in her chest, was someone here? She heard the sound again, followed by a loud moan and Ron’s name being called out. Her heart dropped, realising now what it was. She knew what she was about to walk in to, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to turn away. It was like a car crash – horrific, unavoidable. She took a hesitant step forward, then another. The moans and giggles grew louder, her hand trembled as she reached for the handle, taking a deep breath, she pushed it open.
The scene that greeted her was like a punch to the gut. Ron, her Ron, her husband, was tangled in the sheets of the spare bed with Lavender fucking Brown. Ron’s eyes were closed, his face flushed. They were so engrossed in each other that they didn’t even notice the door opening, he hadn’t even the decency to put a muffliato spell on the room, so sure that no one would ever catch him.
Hermione stood frozen, her mind reeling. Her hands reached instinctively for her bump as the world seemed to tilt on its axis the familiar comfort of her home shattering. The carefully constructed life she had built with Ron, crumbling before her.
She didn’t scream, or cry. Hermione just stood there, watching them, waiting on them to notice her. Her heartbeat was so loud, how was it not getting their attention, how had they not stopped. Slowly, she turned and walked away, she didn’t even put her shoes back on, just stumbled into the Floo once again with tears in her eyes, but where to go? She only had the Weasleys, and Harry but she wasn’t ready to face them yet, to tell them what she had seen. Hermione knew, with a chilling certainty that her life would never be the same again as she called out “Nott Manor” and let the flames of the floo whisk her away from it all.
The furious green of the flames mirrored the tempest raging inside Hermione, how dare he, how dare that rat cheat on her and with Lavender Brown of all people, her heart shattered into a million pieces as she stumbled out onto the hearth rug, the familiar chill of the place a stark contrast to the burning humiliation still fresh in her mind. Ron, with Lavender, the image would be forever seared into her brain, a cruel, vivid tape that played on repeat.
She didn’t even register her surroundings at first, her mind still replaying the scene in the spare room, she knew that Theo wouldn’t be here but his house-elf Marge would be, and all she really wanted was somewhere to lie down and cry. It was then she heard a cool, drawling voice cut through her turmoil “Granger?”
Hermione blinked, her vision still blurry with unshed tears. Standing in front of her, in just a black shirt, tailored trousers and bare feet with his arms crossed, as Draco Malfoy. Of all the people… Her hand instinctively went to her swollen belly, a protective gesture, She felt vulnerable here, and the last person she wanted to see right now was Malfoy. “Malfoy” she managed, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, I know Theo’s likely still at the office but I just needed somewhere to go and this was the only place I could think of” her words falling out of her in one breath, rushing to get the words out before she burst into tears.
“I should probably go” she stammered, turning to step back into the fireplace when a hand reached out to grab her elbow “Granger,” Malfoy said, he didn’t move closer, but she turned to look at him, “You clearly aren’t okay, and Nott wouldn’t want you going anywhere else, I’m sure he’ll back soon, you know he doesn’t like to work past four pm, a slight smirk on his face”.
He was right, of course. Hermione was exhausted both emotional and physically. The thought of going anywhere else, to anyone else felt unbearable and she really didn’t want to be alone right now, not with the replay of Ron on top of Lavender burnt on her brain. “I…” she began, but the words caught in her throat, so she nodded instead, letting Malfoy lead her out of the fireplace and to the large emerald green armchair situated beside it.
Malfoy inclined his head slightly “I’m the last person you want to be with right now Granger, but I can see something is wrong, so how about we just both sit here for a minute and I’ll let Nott know to come home urgently”, his gaze flicked to her stomach “you need somewhere safe.” Hermione hesitated, she was conflicted, trusting Malfoy felt insane but she didn’t know what other options she had and deep down, a small, desperate part of her knew he was right. She needed somewhere safe.
"Stay," he instructed, I'll be back in a moment."
Hermione sank back into the chair, closing her eyes, relief washing over her aching body. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remove the images from her mind, wondering if she could obliviate herself so she never had to see it again but she definitely didn’t want to forget what an absolute bastard Ron was.
Malfoy arrived back a few moments later, a small house-elf with enormous bat-like ears in tow “Marge” he said his tone surprisingly gentle, “this is Mistress Granger, she’ll be staying with us tonight, can you see she has everything she needs?” his eyes flicking to Hermione’s stomach again “and that she remains comfortable, please”.
Marge bobbed her head, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Yes, Master Draco, Marge will take good care of Mistress Granger and the baby. "Marge makes the best tea and has the fluffiest towels."
Hermione tuned out the house-elf’s excited chatter, her mind still reeling. She couldn’t believe she was here in Nott Manor, being looked after by a bloody house-elf, while Malfoy scribbled furiously on a piece of parchment on the small armoire beside them, sealing it with a flick of his wand and summoning an owl to send it off. “I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can manage”.
Hermione nodded “thank you”, when she suddenly felt a sharp, unfamiliar twinge in her lower abdomen. She winced, her hand going to her stomach again.
Malfoy glanced at her, his brow furrowed with concern “are you alright, do you need a doctor?”
"Just a twinge," Hermione murmured, trying to downplay it. She’d been having Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks, nothing to worry about. This was probably just another one. But as she sat there, the twinges became more frequent, more intense. She started timing them in her head, a cold dread creeping up her spine. They were coming closer and closer together.
Another sharp pain ripped through her, stronger this time, making her gasp. She gripped the arms of the chair, her knuckles turning white.
"Granger?" Malfoy's voice was sharp, laced with urgency. He knelt beside her, his grey eyes searching hers. "What's wrong?"
Hermione couldn't speak. She just stared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and realisation. The Braxton Hicks contractions had stopped weeks ago. These… these were different. These were real.
"The… the baby," she finally managed to gasp, her voice trembling. "I think… I think I'm in labour."
Malfoy’s expression changed instantly, his usual cool detachment vanishing, replaced by something that looked an awful lot like panic. If she wasn’t in excruciating pain right now, Hermione would be laughing at how she had finally broken his cool demeanour. He stood up abruptly, his gaze darting around the room as if he were searching for something.
"Marge!" he barked, his voice ringing with authority. "Get some hot water! Towels! And… and tell Nott to hurry! Tell him… tell him it’s an emergency!" The small house-elf who had been making tea, dropped the teapot with a clatter “Oh, Master Draco, not to worry, Marge knows what to do, yes she does, she’s been delivering the Nott babies for a long time now” she disappeared with a flurry of popping noises.
Malfoy turned back to Hermione, his face pale. "Granger," he said, his voice surprisingly calm, "just breathe. We'll… we'll figure this out." Hermione looked at him “we?” funny I don’t see you currently crying in pain, ready to pop a human child out of their vagina Malfoy," she screamed at him as the contractions grew intense. “I need you to get in touch with Hannah Abbot, she’s our doctor, she’s meant to be here and I’m not meant to be giving birth in the middle of the foyer of Nott fucking manor!”
Her face was flushed and she moved to get off the seat “where do you think you are going Granger, sit back down immediately” Malfoys face was ashen white, the panic evident in his voice as he watched her struggle to remove her trousers “why are you taking your clothes off, have you lost your mind?” Hermione stopped to stare at him “Oh, I’m sorry and just how do you think babies are delivered Malfoy? A magic stork? I need to remove my clothes, so how about instead of watching you help me get these blasted trousers off.”