Becoming

When Draco next awoke, the sun was shining through the sashed windows of Hermione's bedroom. Hermione herself was still tucked tightly against his chest.

She must have felt him stir behind her, as she immediately reached for his left hand. He gripped her fingers briefly in acknowledgement, and allowed her to drag his hand across her hips and pull it flat against the curve of her belly. She pressed his hand firmly into her skin, and Draco tensed in anticipation.

After several seconds of bated breath, there was a flutter of movement under his palm. Draco huffed out a small laugh and buried his face into the crook of Hermione's neck. He grinned against her skin, and he heard a breathy giggle. She guided his palm to a different spot after a moment, and under his fingertips, he felt a definite thump.

Draco pressed a soft kiss to the bare skin of Hermione's neck. "This is the greatest gift," he found himself whispering against her flesh.

She tensed minutely, and Draco froze. He could feel the tendrils of panic and guilt sneaking their way into the edges of his thoughts. That was definitely an overstep.

After a long moment, Hermione broke the silence. "I’m glad you feel that way."

With some difficulty, Hermione shifted in his arms until she could bring her face around toward his. Draco allowed himself to study her face. She looked much better after the additional sleep, though there were still dark shadows under her eyes. Draco bent his head forward and placed a gentle kiss against her forehead.

"How're you feeling this morning?"

She hummed and gave him a quick smile. "Better. Thank you again."

"You don't need to thank me, Granger.”

“I’m going to anyway,” she stated as she began to sit up. “Now, get up. I’m taking you to my favourite cafe for brunch.”

“Yes. ma’am,” Draco drawled back with a smirk.

They made it to the cafe a little after ten. Draco had been, admittedly, a bit handsy when he had watched Hermione dress that morning. She had struggled a bit getting into her maternity denims, but they hugged her bum and legs so beautifully that he hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. She had gone full casual for the day in her denims and Muggle top. The jumper she wore was a muted olive green, and there were cutout details along the shoulders and arms that let Hermione’s tattoos peek through just a bit. Draco felt certain she had put the top on just to tease him with the inked flesh.

Hermione’s hair was flopped over her shoulder in a thick, loose braid, and she surveyed him in the sitting room as they tucked their feet into shoes – a low black boot for Draco and a scuffed pair of trainers for Hermione.

“Muggle clothes suit you,” she said aloud.

Draco did own an assortment of Muggle clothes nowadays, and in many ways preferred them, he supposed. He really only wore traditional robes for meetings, but most of his Muggle clothing tended toward more conservative and office-wear. When he had picked out clothes the night prior, he had opted for a pair of closely tailored black denims and a modern grey and white jumper since he hadn’t known what the day held for them and didn’t want to seem overdressed in his standard choices.

“Thanks,” Draco responded as he helped her into her blue woollen coat. “So, where’s this cafe?”

“In the West End. But there’s an Apparition point nearby, so we’ll only need to walk about half a mile.”

The chill of the November air was refreshing as it hit his cheeks. The confidence Hermione had in her navigation of the Muggle city was enthralling. She seemed to enjoy the bustle of the city as they walked down the pavement in her neighbourhood, nodding to people in anonymous greeting as they passed.

The Apparition point she used was three blocks east of her flat, tucked in an alley behind some tall, narrow row houses. In the small area spelled to repel Muggles and hidden from sight by strategic awnings, Hermione held his hand tightly in hers as she prepared to side-along him to their next stop. She flashed him a brilliant smile as she sucked in a breath, and then the squeeze of Apparition sucked them away.

The Apparition point they landed in wasn't altogether different than the one they left, but as they exited the alleyway, shaking the discomfort of Apparition from their heads, Draco saw the street where they emerged was quite different.

The shops were more colourful here, a bit more cramped width-wise and stretched taller, and the street was positively bustling for the time of day. They walked a handful of blocks before Hermione pointed out their destination -- a black awning stretched over a smattering of outdoor tables, with a few patrons queuing at the door.

"We might have to wait a few minutes, but we'll likely be able to snag an outdoor table if that works for you. They've got heaters set up." Hermione pointed out the odd metal pillars scattered amongst the tables. Indeed, the patrons seemed to be enjoying their coffee and food with little regard to the bite in the November air.

Draco nodded his assent as they joined the queue. Before long, they neared the doors, and Hermione snagged a menu for him to peruse.

"It's a bit informal, but the food is exceptional. We'll place our order at the till and they'll bring it out to us," Hermione explained.

Draco scanned the menu, impressed by the selection. There was your standard English breakfast fare, of course, but also an assortment of French pastry, and dishes Draco had never heard of before. He narrowed his choices down as they neared the front of the queue, and asked Hermione what her favourite dish was.

She grinned. "Hard question. I imagine it depends on the day I'm having. The menu changes seasonally, as well. But they make a fabulous poached egg, and their polenta is delicious."

After placing their orders at the busy till (Draco's heart had thrilled at the broad, appreciative smile Hermione had cast his way after he had attempted to pay for their meals, though she had won out with a firm reminder that she was treating him) they managed to snatch up a table outside as other patrons vacated. As it was a clear-your-own table kind of place, they only had to brush a few crumbs from the iron surface as they waited.

Draco was surprised by how well the Muggle heaters were warding off the chill around them, and he eyed them curiously.

"I think these ones might be gas, but they make electric ones, too," offered Hermione as noted his curiosity. "They're quite popular this time of year, before it gets too cold and they close off the outdoor seating."

Draco nodded as he surveyed their space. "Do you come here frequently?"

Hermione hummed an affirmative. "Though not as often as of late. I'm just as likely to order something to carry out and eat in my office. I used to have Ben swing by for coffee every once in a while when we've got a busy morning scheduled."

As if on cue, a server approached and dropped off their drinks order. Draco had ordered himself a latte at Hermione's urging ("Their espresso is quite good.") and he was pleasantly surprised at the beauty of the drink before him. The foam was dense, as it should be, with a tight spiral design from the milk and a dusting of cinnamon across the top. His first sip was accompanied by a surprised raise of his eyebrows and a smirk from Hermione. It was rich, caramelised, and the cinnamon was the perfect touch.

"Told you so," Hermione teased. She absentmindedly stirred some cream into her own drink -- decaffeinated coffee. Her first sip left a wistful expression on her face, and Draco returned his own smirk with a snort of amusement.

"I miss the real thing," Hermione lamented. "There's just something missing with decaf."

"Would you prefer some tea?"

"No, no. I've spent the last decade starting my mornings with coffee. The smell and taste are comforting, if nothing else. I've been allowed some caffeine, but not after my last appointment."

"It's not very good for blood pressure," Draco acknowledged, eyeing the bundled-up witch in front of him.

"Yes. But it will be quite worth the sacrifice," Hermione replied. She smoothed her hands down over the front of her coat affectionately.

Draco smiled softly at her as she took another sip of coffee.

With some hesitancy, he broached a concern. "Are you handling everything alright?"

Hermione lifted an eyebrow at him. "How do you mean?"

"You - you haven't seemed to be particularly, ehm, enthusiastic about having a baby."

Hermione let out a long breath and scanned the tables around them. Draco opened his mouth to backtrack, suddenly regretting his words at her apparent upset, but Hermione cut him off.

"Not everyone dreams of being a parent. I certainly didn't. I never particularly wanted my own children."

"But you seem to love kids."

"I do," she conceded. "I adore them, and they are some of the best parts of my life. But it wasn't always that way. I was terrified when I held Teddy for the first time. And James was premature and so sick when he was young. It took me a few years to be comfortable with actual babies. I love spending time with them, and making those connections when they're young. I think children should have adults in their lives who don't have to share attention with their own children, I guess. It's a different perspective, and it's important that children experience that type of relationship, especially the kids in my life because they have so many siblings and cousins. I love the role I play as Auntie Mia. I get to celebrate all the little and big moments. I have connections with the kids in ways they don't have with their own parents, and that's important for them. They get one-on-one time with me, where they don’t have to compete for attention. I just never felt comfortable with the idea of being a parent myself, and had written it off as anything to consider because I didn't think it would ever be physically possible, even if my heart had been set on it. I believe I will do well at it, but it wasn't something I desired out of life or need to feel fulfilled."

"And now?"

Hermione shrugged. "Fundamentally, things haven't changed for me. I now love Sage fiercely, with all of my heart," Hermione said, pressing a hand to her belly subconsciously. "With all the odds, the fact that she's here has to mean something – I know too much about magic to think it's a coincidence she survived this long with the physical barriers. But it's not as if I was happy to get the news, all circumstances considered. I won't pretend I was. But I also wasn't completely devastated. Five years ago, I would have been. But I'm in a place in my life, while it's not particularly convenient to have a child, it's not the end of the world. She'll be surrounded by love, and I know that whatever failings I may have in my life, she won't be one of them."

"I think you'll make a great mother," Draco admitted.

"And I'll strive to be," Hermione shrugged. "My ambivalence about my own parenthood in general doesn't mean I won't excel at it. I just approach it differently, I guess."

"I wanted so badly to be a father," Draco admitted earnestly.

"Why?"

"I'm not even sure. Obviously, there was the expectation that I provide a Malfoy heir -- that was shoved down my throat from a young age. But as an adult, I was just excited by the idea of being a parent. And for a number of years, I didn't think it would happen. We had Healers in and out because of Astoria's sickness, but even before it started manifesting in late stages, there were miscarriages. Several." Draco took another sip of his cooling latte, centering himself.

"It was years before we hit on the right potions to help with her sickness and stabilise her enough to try again. She wanted to be a parent just as badly as I did, so it was worth the pain, and the wait. Eight years of it."

Silence fell, and Hermione stretched her hand across the table toward him. He caught her fingers in his own, squeezing gently.

"We didn't know what it would do to her, with the sickness, but we had a guess. It was a decision only she could make, and Astoria felt it was worth the risk. And she got almost three years with him."

"That doesn't seem like enough," Hermione said softly, a crack in her voice.

"It wasn't. But it was more than either of us had dreamed of, because she almost died right after. Now, I get to live out my dream by being his father. And it's more than I could have ever hoped for. I want to make sure he has the opportunity to live a life he'll be proud of. That's all I've ever wanted for him." The confession left Draco a bit winded.

"You're doing an excellent job at that, Draco." Hermione squeezed his hand.

Before he could respond, they were interrupted by an employee dropping their food off at their table. The moment for confessions broken, he thanked the employee as they scuttled away. Draco offered Hermione a crooked grin.

"This looks delicious."

Hermione returned his smile, albeit a little sadly. "They really do a phenomenal brunch here. I hope you like that polenta -- it was one of my favourites."

"Was?" Draco queried. The polenta hash was filled with charred sprouts, mushrooms, and pancetta.

"I can't stomach the pancetta anymore. And it doesn't taste quite as good if you ask them to leave it off."

Hermione tucked into her own meal enthusiastically -- poached eggs on a bed of wilted rocket, and a spicy roast pepper sauce. She had a thick piece of toasted sourdough bread that looked exceptionally fluffy.

Having never had polenta before, Draco wasn't sure what to expect. Hermione had explained to him what it was, and she was right that it was a great base for the other flavours. It was really quite good, though the texture was unusual, and he told her so.

Hermione flashed a grin at him, and they ate in relative silence for the next few minutes.

When Draco had eaten nearly all of his breakfast (the plate was surprisingly generous, and he found himself filling up quickly) he spoke again. "Do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

Hermione nibbled on the edge of her toast. "I'm heading to the Potters' house after this. It's nearly Lily's birthday, and it's time I tell them about Sage."

"How old is she?" Draco asked after the youngest Potter child.

"She'll be seven next week." Hermione put down her toast and brushed the crumbs from her fingers.

"Their eldest is at Hogwarts already, right?"

"James is in third year, and Al's in second."

"Both Gryffindors, I assume," Draco drawled with a smirk.

Hermione smirked right back. "James is. Al's in Slytherin."

"Come again?"

Hermione grinned, her eyes twinkling. She waved her hand carelessly, and Draco felt the tingle of a muffling spell fall over them (Statute of Secrecy and all that, he supposed). "You heard me."

"A Potter in Slytherin?"

"He's a quiet kid, with a self-preservation streak a mile wide."

"Bit of a shock to them, I suppose."

Hermione shrugged. "Harry shares custody of Teddy with your aunt Andi, since she's not doing that well, and Teddy's in Ravenclaw. They don't really care as long as the kids are making friends. One of Al's older cousins is in Slytherin, too."

Draco raised an eyebrow. He knew the only cousins the Potter children had would be Weasleys.

"Bill and Fleur's eldest, Victoire. She's a prefect this year. And honestly, the Weasley kids are all over the place with their sortings. I've heard that was the case for a lot of kids in the last few years. Their parents -- our generation -- are putting less pressure on them to be in a certain house. And schools like Padma's are breaking down the barriers with younger kids, so there's not as much tension between houses anymore. A lot of kids know each other before they ever step foot in the halls of Hogwarts, and it crosses over House lines."

With Scorpius still being so young, he hadn't given much thought to the changes that must be going on at Hogwarts. "I'm impressed."

"With Harry or Hogwarts?" Hermione teased.

"Both," Draco admitted begrudgingly. "And with the Weasley family, I suppose. They were always very militantly Gryffindor."

"Not much different from your family and Slytherin," Hermione remarked drily. There was amusement in her eyes though. "There's a Weasley or two in every house now. Ginny's never really cared for house divides apart from on the Quidditch pitch. She knew Al would be in Slytherin before they even got his letter. And McGonagall has been very supportive with inter-house unity events. They mix up all the classes now with students from all houses, and sixth and seventh years have their own dorms where they all live in a larger group together."

"Really?" Draco was astounded by this news.

Hermione simply nodded. "It apparently worked rather well in the years after the war, when they had all the people who decided to repeat the year or who came back after a gap. She apparently housed all the rising seventh years and the returning students in their own tower. I'm not privy to her reasoning, but it worked. They kept it up and now the sixth years have their own space, and seventh years do too. They also do inter-house study periods, which have helped the younger students."

"You didn't return, right?"

"No, Hermione sighed. "I sat my NEWTs at the beginning of July. I wanted to be able to enrol at Oxford for the fall with an age cohort that made sense. I turned nineteen that September."

"All O's, I assume."

"Mostly. I'd been out of practice with Potions. But I still scraped an E without much revision, given I had nowhere to practice brewing that summer."

"Impressive."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I only sat the basics. I didn't bother with Ancient Runes or Astronomy, in the end. I'd already decided I'd be doing the dual law program at Oxford by the time we finished the restorations at Hogwarts. The University for Magical Studies shares its campus, you know. They've got a few different law tracks there. The most popular program is always international law, but they have a newer track -- an intense program that includes coursework in both magical law and Muggle, through Oxford. It's modelled after the one in Bruges."

"I've heard it's a difficult program."

"It is. It's generally a four year program, sometimes five depending on your internship placement."

"Where did you do yours?"

"I did two. One semester as a court stenographer for the lower house of the Wizengamot, and the next at a firm here in London."

"Of course you did," Draco chuckled. "I bet you finished early, too."

"Yes." Hermione's look was challenging. "But only because I tested out of the preparatory courses. There's usually a full year of coursework on non-magical integration and Muggle studies, and introductory law classes. I didn't have to do those integration courses and jumped right into the meat of it."

"I'd expect no less." Hermione's answering grin made him smile, as well.

"You didn't return to Hogwarts, either." It was a statement, not a question.

Draco shook his head. "I did not. But you know I sat my NEWTs."

"And?"

"All O's, of course. I did my Potions Mastery in France, though."

"Why France?"

"It was easier than being a Malfoy here," Draco shrugged. "It was hard enough after the trial, and I didn't want the same treatment during my mastery -- placements are difficult to find even in good circumstances. Astoria and I both spoke French. The wedding was in the middle of my program, and we just stayed in France until my mother died."

"Where in France?"

"The Mastery institute is in Paris, but we stayed in the wizarding quarter in Grenoble."

"Grenoble?"

"In the Dauphine region, yes. Astoria liked the terraced gardens. We looked into a handful of places, and even stayed in Paris for a few weeks, where I had a flat, but she liked it best. With the Floo, it didn't matter where we stayed, so we leased a house there after the wedding. We only came back because my mother died and I had to take over everything here."

"I'm sure that was a beautiful place to live."

"Quite picturesque," Draco said with a fond smile. "Most of France is, really."

"I went skiing in Chamonix a couple of times with my parents, but I've not seen much of France."

Draco was surprised by that admission. "Skiing? You, Granger?"

Hermione's wry smile returned. "I wasn't very good at it, I'll admit. It was just nice to spend time with them. Things were hard once I left for Hogwarts."

Draco waited for her to continue. Hermione drained the last of her coffee before she spoke again.

"Magic was a rift between us. The more I got pulled in here, the less I belonged in the Muggle world. I no longer had anything in common with other children my age. We weren't learning the same things, didn't have the same types of experiences. It was isolating. My parents didn't understand, either. And it got harder and harder each year. Skiing was something we could do together and magic didn't matter anymore."

Draco was quiet as Hermione talked, because he knew the part he had played in making sure she felt that same alienation at Hogwarts.

"Did you have a good relationship with them after the war?" Draco asked, hesitantly.

"They've been dead for many years," Hermione said quietly, smoothing down the front of her coat again.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Hermione only nodded, watching passers-by and not making eye contact. After several moments, she spoke again.

"It has been twelve years. I think I'm at peace with my actions finally."

Draco looked at her quizzically in response to the statement. Hermione only shook her head minutely -- she was done with this conversation. Draco took the hint and drained the last sip of his latte.

The tables around them had started to empty, and the queue had died down. Draco's watch showed that it was just past noon. He stretched a leg out under the table and nudged Hermione's foot with his own.

Hermione brought her attention back to him with a small smile.

"What time do you need to be at Potter's?"

Hermione checked her own watch. "Before one. They're having a small party for Lily later on and I'd like to see them first."

The implication of Hermione sharing her pregnancy lingered in the air between them.

"I don't think I'll be telling everyone all the details today, but I'm playing it by ear. I just want to tell Harry and Ginny before the party."

"You tell who you need to, Granger. We've got five days till it goes public -- until then, anything that gets out will just be rumours. I'll be informing the elder Greengrasses today, though I spoke with Daphne yesterday."

"Oh?"

Draco toyed with the idea of sharing Astoria's vision, but decided it wasn't the time or place. "She's in full support. She thinks Scorpius will be very happy, and that's what matters to her. She's prepared to speak to her parents on our behalf, if necessary."

Hermione nodded, relief flooding her face. "Do you still want me over to tell Scorpius this evening?"

"I think that would be best. It will be a long week for him at school, and he might need some time to process everything."

"What time? The party should be over by five -- Ginny hates having to feed the whole family at their house and she always makes everyone leave before dinner."

Draco found his own lips quirked in amusement, mirroring Hermione's grin.

"Around then is fine. If you want to bring the statement for the Prophet with you, I'll make sure it gets to them Thursday evening for their Friday printing."

"Who's your contact there?" Curiosity laced Hermione's question.

"Padma's contact, actually. Her sister is an editor for the society pages."

"So that's what Parvati's up to nowadays," Hermione snorted indelicately.

"Not a fan, I take it?" Draco laughed.

"I lived with her for six years -- she was a Gryffindor. We didn't really get on. You think we can trust her to print our statement as we write it?"

"Padma will make sure of it. They're close as adults, I understand, and they have a good rapport. And Padma has already said she'll remind her of your reputation for winning lawsuits against the Prophet."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I imagine it might take a quote or two from Theo and Padma to satisfy her, but they're prepared to do that for us. Considering they're our press cover story, I think that would be a good idea in any case."

"True," Hermione pondered. "Though with Theo's open disdain for the press it might seem suspicious."

Draco shrugged a shoulder. "Padma's got a good head for this, they'll work out the best course of action."

Hermione checked her watch and worked her way to a standing position. Draco hurriedly did the same, extending an arm to offer balance. Hermione smiled at him and dropped the muffliato with a wave of her hand.

"May I walk you back?"

Hermione nodded, and the two of them gathered their plates and mugs to deposit in the bus-bin beside the building. Once they started off back down the street, Draco tugged Hermione's hand into his own, lacing their cold fingers together.

Hermione leaned into him, their shoulders brushing, as they made their way to the Apparition point. The silence was companionable, but loaded with nerves as Hermione prepared herself for the conversation ahead of her. Draco knew it wouldn't be easy, and he wouldn't blame them for being angry at Draco himself. He worried for Hermione's sake.

When they neared the alleyway that housed the Apparition point, Draco tugged on their joined hands to bring her to a stop. He searched her eyes for a moment.

"I'll see you around five, then? Scorp will be happy to cook for you again -- Sundays are spaghetti nights. But I'll leave my Floo open if you need to come over sooner." If things don't go well. Draco didn't need to say it, but he knew she understood. "I'm picking Scorp up at four, but that won't take long. Come through whenever you want to."

Hermione smiled her thanks, and leaned up on her toes to kiss him gently. He returned the kiss with as much restraint as he could on a public street. As she pulled back, Draco's hands travelled from her waist to press gently against her belly.

"I'll see you both soon," he promised.

Another peck on his lips, and Hermione turned the corner into the alley. With a faint pop, she was gone. Draco followed her path after a long moment.